AT 19 YEARS OLD, MY MIND REELING, I tossed and turned and kicked off the covers. I struggled to get out of bed; for the fifth time that night, I floundered toward the bathroom.
“Where are you going now?” Donny demanded.
I turned the bathroom light on. “Need to go again, Donny.”
“Didn’t you just go?”
“I’m feeling a lot of pressure in my bladder.” How I wished to erase the sneer from his face. “Didn’t mean to wake . . . ”
He responded by sucking air through his teeth and then flipped over, turning his back to me.
Unable to get proper rest, I had started cramping at 3:30 that morning. Around midday, the cramps grew stronger. By 3 p.m., the pain had become agonizing, but still irregular, followed by spotting. The instant Donny walked in from work, I said, “It’s time.”
We arrived at Rosewood General. An attendant assisted me into a wheelchair. When I sat down, my water broke, so much for dignity.
Once I was in my room, the nurse examined me. She discovered I was already dilated to six. This meant I was in the second stage of labor. Glancing down at my belly, I found the shape oddly lopsided, oval, no longer round. Much to my dismay, after the nurse’s probing, she mentioned in a concerned voice that she felt a foot.
The doctor ordered an emergency X-ray. Apparently, at the last moment, my baby had turned and remained in a breech position. The X-ray also revealed that the umbilical cord had wrapped around the neck. The medical staff prepped me and gave me an epidural. They then confirmed that I needed to have a Cesarean. This time, Donny remained in the waiting room.
During the birthing process, even though I was awake, I felt nothing from the waist down. I concentrated on trying to relax and comprehend what the doctors and nurses were discussing. A large blue drape blocked my view of the entire birthing process.
I couldn’t keep my upper body from shaking. Even my teeth chattered, and the uncontrollable tremors caused my shoulders to ache, as if ready to fall off. Petrifying thoughts raced through my mind. I feared something was terribly wrong. When I heard someone say, “Here she comes,” the “she” rang loud in my mind: another girl.
But why won’t she cry?
Time stopped. I prayed. Felt like forever.
At last, wails from strong lungs pierced the room. My doctor smiled and held my six- pound- four-ounce baby. “It’s a girl.”
I reached out for her, anxious to see if she was all right. She looks so small, red, and wrinkled, unlike Anna Marie when she was born. And she had one purple arm!
An excerpt from “Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace”
Life sometimes will throw you a curve. Ever experienced the feeling of being out of control? How about the fear of the unknown and the what-ifs? Although this was my second child, the entire process was different than with the birth of my firstborn. I was not prepared. I lacked the moral support of my former husband. All my family members lived out of state. Most of the time, I felt alone and inept in my role. But I learned to be an overcomer. And if I can make it, so can you! Want to know more about my journey? You can read all about it in my memoir,
"Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace".
From Heart to Heritage
Reflections From the Heart 