Angels in the Hallway

They were everywhere. The Angels that is. They were by her side when her water broke at home, leaving her in that state of euphoria, that soon…she would be holding this little new soul in her arms. The angels were with her in the halls, when she walked through the first stages of labour. I felt their presence…they were holding her hand as she doubled over in pain as the contractions grew in strength. They whispered to her that all would be okay. I know this. She was calm. She was listening. The angels walked with me…and my husband …as we walked the halls in the middle of the night….staying close by…with nothing for reassurance other than our undying faith. She would be okay. They stayed with her the entire night…they were by her side in the birthing room for those long hours. They returned with her and watched over her and the new babe, rejoicing in the union, removing all the doubt…and blessing her with this miracle….of birth. Thank you once again…dear Angels…for everything.



The Difference a Day Makes

We arrived breathless at the hospital in mid afternoon. Baby ‘O’ was on the way. The hospital was bustling with activity…but labour and delivery was quiet…except for our daughter…the sole mom-to-be in their care.

Labour pains had started...and were still manageable….at this point. We walked the halls with her. People walked past us or stood off to one side watching the entourage. My daughter dressed in hospital blues, hair in ponytail and pushing the IV pump with dutiful husband pushing the pole for her so she could stop periodically and ‘breathe’ through the contractions. Nannie and Grampie followed close behind…overseeing everything…like there was something we could actually do. We offer our gift…of personal presence…as at this time it is all we have to offer.

Time progresses…rapidly for the birthing Mom…remarking how fast the previous 2 hours flew by. Dilation continued….as did the labour pains. Hours later (it doesn’t really matter how many), decisions were made…by the attending nurses and physician that a pain block was probably a good thing. This little Mom could only stand so much ….for so long….and she was already getting tired….with a long journey ahead of her yet. Unfortunately the pain block relaxed her and the babe slowing labour down. The decision to step up the game with an induced labour began. I can’t really remember what was going through my mind…all I knew….was I wanted to take the pain away. A Mom forever, I never want to see my children in pain. My own memories of labour came back to me ….swiftly…and I felt every contraction. The only difference was, my daughter was having 15 times the amount of labour I had… nobody should have to work that hard!

Ten hours later, I looked up at the clock for the billionth time…it was 4 AM. I got up from the hard plastic covered chair in the ‘waiting room’ and crossed the hall into the birthing room. The lights were low and my daughter was on her side….limp and flushed in the cheeks. Husband is still at her side…holding her hand. Worry and concern etched deeply in his eyes. I usher him out to give his eyes a rest…his contacts are out now and he can barely see. Reluctantly he gave up his seat at her side and I sit close by. The baby’s heartbeat is still strong and beating rythmatically on the monitor. The ticker tape grinds out the report of the duration of contractions and baby’s heart response. She is trying to rest…as I am sure she instinctively knows she needs all her strength for later…to push…and hoping this will be sooner than later.

Husband returns…can’t sleep or rest – not much wonder. He resumes his place at her side. The nurses patter around, checking this…taking notes on their charts…and are speaking in hushed tones. My daughter is their only patient…and so she is getting their undivided attention.

My skin starts to itch…fatigue is setting in. I left the birthing room to walk the halls …just to keep awake. I have never walked the halls in a hospital in the middle of the night. It was both eerie and soothing at the same time. Lights were low and there wasn’t a sound except for the droning of the ice machine kicking in making the ice my daughter craved. I am numb. I cannot believe she has been in labour this long. My brain is no longer functioning; I am walking like a zombie. I return to the waiting room, and smile to myself to see the ‘Grampie’ trying to sleep… on this small chair…with his gloves on. The room has cooled down and he is searching for warmth.

At the 15 hour mark, the nurses announce that the dilation has reached 9.5! This is good news. Doctor is summoned and in a matter of minutes we are all called into the birthing room. A decision needs to be made…our daughter is in trouble…and potentially the babe as well. Seems the contractions have not pushed the baby down far enough for birth and to safeguard both baby and mother, a caesarian birth is recommended. Tears flow from her eyes, she is terrified. Naturally so. After processing this information, both mommie and daddie-to-be agree. The ‘OR’ on-call team is summoned and it will be a matter of minutes now. She has been prepped and ready…and the knowledge that this will soon be over both relieves and terrifies her. I kiss her on the cheek…reassuring her that we will be right here and we will see her ‘soon’. The bed rolls away. My heart feels like an iron anvil in my chest.

I can still see him…the new daddy walking toward us…holding a small white bundle….with a teenie little forehead peeking out the top. His eyes are smiling above the surgical mask. I thought I would burst at the seams….the hall seemed so long. He finally meets us and through the mask says “I would like you to meet ‘Emerson’!" I am speechless! The beautiful little boy is scrunching up his eyes and there is a baby frown knitting his forehead…the lights are so bright. Finally, I could squeak out….he is BEAUTIFUL!

On Monday morning, at 6:33 AM, on the 28th of March, 2011 our little grandson, Emerson Alexander Fee, was born.