the big day
So we returned to the Birth Center the next night at @ 3 am. Kristina was having serious contractions and vomiting a little, probably from the morphine. But once we got there the contractions again seemed to die down. after a few hours the midwife Karen gave her some herbal drink that helped get the contractions going again. The pains were coming faster and faster and it seemed like we were getting there. But Kristina was dead tired, exhausted after 30 plus hours of pushing and pain with little to no sleep. Karen noted that the baby's heartrate was dipping during the contractions. We decided that we had better go to the hospital, just to be safe. I was scared. Really scared. All kinds of thoughts were going through my mind as I tried not to cry or look too scared, for Kristina's sake, I wanted to be strong and not frighten her. A bunch of paramedics burst into the room and started getting Kristina onto a rolling stretcher for the short ride across the street to TMC Hospital. Once we got there the doctors started explaining what might happen if we needed to do a caesarean, about the different anasthetics they might have to use etc. Then the midwife checking inside Kristina for the baby's head position called out, "Prolapse!" and all hell broke loose. Apparently that's doctor-lingo for, "the umbilical cord is coming down the birth canal ahead of the baby and there's a danger that it will squeeze off the baby's oxygen supply- so we have to do a C-section NOW!" They started wheeling Kristina's hospital bed at top speed to the operating room, I mean literally running with it, like on those hospital TV shows. I was really scared now. I could barely see Kristina with all the doctors and nurses surrounding her. I chased after them as fast as I could, all the way to the door of the operating room, which I couldn't enter.
It was all over quickly. I had been outside worrying myself sick, and imagining all sorts of grisly scenarios in my head (most involved lots of blood and flatlining heart monitors) for only a few minutes when Karen came out and informed me that everything was fine and that the baby boy was OK. I nearly wept with relief. Then, a few moments later, a nurse brought my son out to me. He was wide-eyed and alert looking, warm, and kind of wet looking. There was still a little blood on him. It was a little overwhelming. The whole day had been such an emotional rollercoaster. Troy was beautiful- in a wrinkled sort of way; he looked kind of like a little old man. He was looking all around him.
