Post by Kathleen Conway on Dec 6, 2021 17:44:24 GMT
The maternity ward of Sunrise Children’s Hospital was the only sensible choice for the Conways. Local and more importantly, the place boasted a well received reputation as the premier neonatal care unit in Las Vegas.
It was just after half seven in the morning on Monday, December 6th. It had been a long and difficult labour, compounded by the fact that there was a considerable gap between Kathy’s second and third child. She was an older mother to a newborn because of certain career decisions that she wasn’t proud of upon reflection.
She shouldn’t have waited so long between babies, it would have saved hearing from all the doctors and nurses about the litany of potential complications and risks having a third child eleven years apart from her second could bring, especially in her early forties.
Anybody who thought each subsequent pregnancy got easier because now you knew what to expect was either blissfully ignorant or hopelessly optimistic. The anxieties never disappeared, at best they were replaced with all new ones. Indeed, it was the culmination of these brand new worries and concerns that had justified not letting the public in on this pregnancy. Only close friends and family knew, and even then mostly only because they had happened to drop by over the last nine months.
There were no social media announcements, no press releases, nothing.
Just in case something went wrong. It would be too awkward and painful to deal with on a public scale, never mind a private one.
Jake squeezed her hand at her side, like always. Her dependable rock, he had stepped up even more since the passing of her father eighteen months ago. It brought tears to her eyes to think this would be the first grandchild he wouldn’t be here for. She took deep breaths, her grip on her husband growing ever tighter as the nurses instructed her to push.
“I love you, you got this baby,” said Jake, kissing her hand as the pain started to rip and burn through her.
Was it always this painful, or was her memory playing tricks on her?
This baby was already twenty four hours later than expected and consequently this was the longest she’d ever been in labour. She wanted it to be over now and the baby had other, more stubborn ideas it seemed, making her wait.
Just as stubborn as your father, Kathy thought as she took rapid shallow breaths between whimpers, moans and screams. Tears stinging hot against her eyes. She barely heard the nurse register that the baby was crowning.
“Come on Mama, push. Almost there, that’s it!”
What the hell do you think I’m trying to do?! She thought, but she bit her tongue, or more accurately the inside of her cheek, not that she felt it.
Slow, deep breaths, a first big push and it felt like she was on fire. The second big push and it felt easier, maybe because the first had prepped her expectations for the pain and discomfort. The third big push was the easiest so far, and as she relaxed, at the fourth, she felt the baby almost slide out of her.
A few moments to catch her breath followed, and then she registered the concern through bleary eyes on her husband.
There were no cries.
Why weren’t there cries?
There should be cries!
The doctors and nurses looked at each other, their masks giving away nothing.
What the hell was happening? Is there something wrong with my baby?
Tell me!
She found it hard to stop her mind immediately catastrophizing the situation, until one of the doctors held her baby up a little, tapping it lightly on the back.
The wail was like music to Kathy’s ears, her baby was crying.
Her baby was alive, breathing!
The Conways smiled at each other, breathing a synchronised sigh of relief as the nurse gave a thumbs up and her eyes were smiling.
Thank you, God…
“Congratulations, Mom and Dad, it’s a boy!” The doctor announced, pulling his mask down and smiling.
“A boy!” The Conways exclaimed in breathless unison.
Kathy pulled her husband down into a deep kiss, an arm around his neck.
A son, just like they had always wanted and dreamed about…
Miracles did happen, ‘‘twas the season, after all.
It was just after half seven in the morning on Monday, December 6th. It had been a long and difficult labour, compounded by the fact that there was a considerable gap between Kathy’s second and third child. She was an older mother to a newborn because of certain career decisions that she wasn’t proud of upon reflection.
She shouldn’t have waited so long between babies, it would have saved hearing from all the doctors and nurses about the litany of potential complications and risks having a third child eleven years apart from her second could bring, especially in her early forties.
Anybody who thought each subsequent pregnancy got easier because now you knew what to expect was either blissfully ignorant or hopelessly optimistic. The anxieties never disappeared, at best they were replaced with all new ones. Indeed, it was the culmination of these brand new worries and concerns that had justified not letting the public in on this pregnancy. Only close friends and family knew, and even then mostly only because they had happened to drop by over the last nine months.
There were no social media announcements, no press releases, nothing.
Just in case something went wrong. It would be too awkward and painful to deal with on a public scale, never mind a private one.
Jake squeezed her hand at her side, like always. Her dependable rock, he had stepped up even more since the passing of her father eighteen months ago. It brought tears to her eyes to think this would be the first grandchild he wouldn’t be here for. She took deep breaths, her grip on her husband growing ever tighter as the nurses instructed her to push.
“I love you, you got this baby,” said Jake, kissing her hand as the pain started to rip and burn through her.
Was it always this painful, or was her memory playing tricks on her?
This baby was already twenty four hours later than expected and consequently this was the longest she’d ever been in labour. She wanted it to be over now and the baby had other, more stubborn ideas it seemed, making her wait.
Just as stubborn as your father, Kathy thought as she took rapid shallow breaths between whimpers, moans and screams. Tears stinging hot against her eyes. She barely heard the nurse register that the baby was crowning.
“Come on Mama, push. Almost there, that’s it!”
What the hell do you think I’m trying to do?! She thought, but she bit her tongue, or more accurately the inside of her cheek, not that she felt it.
Slow, deep breaths, a first big push and it felt like she was on fire. The second big push and it felt easier, maybe because the first had prepped her expectations for the pain and discomfort. The third big push was the easiest so far, and as she relaxed, at the fourth, she felt the baby almost slide out of her.
A few moments to catch her breath followed, and then she registered the concern through bleary eyes on her husband.
There were no cries.
Why weren’t there cries?
There should be cries!
The doctors and nurses looked at each other, their masks giving away nothing.
What the hell was happening? Is there something wrong with my baby?
Tell me!
She found it hard to stop her mind immediately catastrophizing the situation, until one of the doctors held her baby up a little, tapping it lightly on the back.
The wail was like music to Kathy’s ears, her baby was crying.
Her baby was alive, breathing!
The Conways smiled at each other, breathing a synchronised sigh of relief as the nurse gave a thumbs up and her eyes were smiling.
Thank you, God…
“Congratulations, Mom and Dad, it’s a boy!” The doctor announced, pulling his mask down and smiling.
“A boy!” The Conways exclaimed in breathless unison.
Kathy pulled her husband down into a deep kiss, an arm around his neck.
A son, just like they had always wanted and dreamed about…
Miracles did happen, ‘‘twas the season, after all.