Little Angel

“ I need everybody to get out,” I said, as I fought against the pain of another contraction. They were growing in intensity; each time the wave of pain came I thought for sure it was going to be the worst. I was wrong every single time. My eyes were squeezed shut, but I heard the whispers and footsteps of my relatives leaving my small labor & delivery room. My husband Fernando stood beside me, holding my hand, or rather, allowing me to squeeze his hand to the rhythm of my pain. My mother stood at my other side, whispering encouragements into my ear. I could barely hear her as I focused on keeping my breathing even. Slow, deep breaths in through my nose, even breaths out through my mouth. My nurse came in to check on me.

“It hurts… really, really bad. Where’s the doctor?”

“He’s in another delivery, he’ll be here soon to check in on you.”

“I feel like I need to push. Why do I feel like I have to push already?” I asked, a bit frantically. “What’s taking the doctor so long?”

My nurse put on a pair of latex gloves with a snap, and pulled back my stiff bed sheets to check my progress. Less than half an hour ago, at seven centimeters dilated, she had told me it would be about an hour per centimeter from then on; three more hours of pain left.

Without any hint of emotion, she took the gloves off just as quickly as she had put them on, and with an “I’ll be right back,” she was out the door. What seemed like seconds later, a flood of nurses entered my room.

I squeezed my eyes shut once again, I could feel the next contraction coming along, they were just seconds apart now.  I heard a commotion going on around me, and opened my eyes in surprise. My dimly lit room had been transformed. One nurse had rolled in a small table of surgical instruments, which was now positioned near the bottom of my bed. The large floodlights above my head were turned on now, and I had to blink a few eyes for my eyes to adjust to the brightly lit room. Another nurse was typing something into the computer by my bedside while checking my IV line and the fetal heart monitor I had strapped onto my swollen belly. My nurse threw back my bed sheets once again, and spoke to me calmly while lifting my legs into the wide stirrups at the base of my bed.

“It looks like you’re fully dilated, that’s why you feel like pushing. If you need to push, go ahead and bear down. The doctor will be here soon.”

There was no time for me to freak out, because the next contraction came without warning. This time, the pressure was overwhelming, and I reluctantly gave in to it with a push. Where was my doctor?!

Moments later, he came rushing in, sliding his hands into the gloves my nurse had waiting for him.

“Okay, we’re all ready here,” he said. “Keep your breathing even, and whenever you feel the need to push, go ahead and push as hard as you can. The baby is already crowning, I can see the top of his head.”

The pain I felt from the next contraction made me hold my breath, but I quickly inhaled a deep breath through my nose. When I exhaled, I pushed against the stirrups as hard as I could, gritting my teeth and squeezing Fernando’s hand at the same time.

“Oh Lauri, Lauri! His little head! I can see his little head!,” my mom cried out from behind her camcorder.

“Okay, reach down and touch your baby’s head, he’s right there,” my doctor said.

At this point, I started to panic. I was having a baby. I was having a BABY. In a few moments, I would have a BABY in my arms. And I was only 20 years old.

“Look at me,” Fernando said. “Look into my eyes, relax. Breathe.” He breathed with me as the next contraction came.

“One more big push, Laura,” the doctor said. “He’s right here.”

And I did just that. Next thing I knew, I felt a huge release of pressure, and I felt the baby slide out of the birth canal. Silence, then the beautiful sound of my son’s cries. “ Time of birth, 7:48 PM,” my doctor called out to the nurse.

I watched in complete shock as the doctor quickly wiped my baby off, and placed him on my chest. That’s when the tears began. I looked over at Fernando, and he was already a waterfall.

Our little angel was finally here.

Then the nurse took him to get him cleaned up, measured, and weighed. I knew it was only going to take a few minutes, but I couldn’t wait to hold him again. As she laid him on the newborn weighing table, the door of my hospital room opened, and I saw the anxious faces of my friends and family. The nurse held up my still-crying son as I saw about a million cameras and phones waived in the air taking pictures. With all the flash going off, you would have thought it was the paparazzi. After a few moments, she asked them to wait in the waiting room, and closed the door to give us some privacy. “ Seven pounds, fifteen ounces,  and nineteen centimeters in length,” she told us.  She finished prepping my baby, and laid him in my arms.

I started caressing my baby’s face and hushing him, and within a few moments his crying stopped. Then, he opened his eyes, and looked right at me.

“ Oh Lulu, he knows you, he knows you!” my mom said emotionally, having switched from her camcorder to a camera.

The baby blinked his eyes a few times, getting adjusted to the light after so many months in darkness. He looked around, as if he were taking everything in, although I know he could see nothing but a blur. He opened his little mouth, and closed it. Then opened it again, then closed it. Each little movement he made was amazing to me, and I watched him, still crying all the while. His head was covered in a generic pink and blue striped hospital beanie, light brown, fuzzy brown hair peeking out by his tiny ears. His eyes were a deep, dark indigo, his nose a perfect little button. His lips were perfectly shaped and plump. I laughed, looks like he got his mom’s lips. His fingers and toes were tiny, I slipped my pinky into his tiny fragile hand and, to my surprise, he squeezed it. He was absolutely beautiful. Absolutely perfect.

I passed the baby to his daddy, and watched as Fernando’s wide arms rocked the baby. His eyes were red, his nose runny, but he looked so beautiful carrying our son. They looked so beautiful together.

It wasn’t long before the nurse came back and whisked the baby away to the nursery for shots and tests. I was sad to see him go, but delighted with the fact I could now refresh myself. Sixteen hours of labor had taken its toll on me; my once-braided hair was now partially loose, strands of hair falling messily around my shoulders and sticking to the sweat on my face.

My nurse helped me up from my bed, and grabbed my arms to help me stand. The epidural had numbed my legs, so I walked shakily, leaning on her for support. She sat me down on the bench in my shower, and turned on the hot water. A shower had never felt so good. She helped me into my freshly-made bed, and I collapsed into my clean, crisp sheets, waiting till the time came to hold my baby again.

“You can breastfeed him now, if you’d like,” the nurse said, placing the little bundle in my arms. He latched on right away, and as he drank, Fernando and I watched him in silence. It had all happened so quickly, I had been pregnant for ten months total, but no length of time could have prepared us for this. To be honest, I don’t think we REALLY believed that my pregnancy would result in a baby, I guess we just thought I would just be pregnant for the rest of my life. But here he was, living proof that pregnancy does indeed lead to a child in the end.

What felt like thousands of pictures were taken, and everyone wanted a turn to hold little Ryan. I reluctantly gave him away, and watched as he was passed from person to person, aching to hold him once again.

Three days later, I signed my discharge papers and was wheeled out of the hospital, cradling Ryan in my arms.  I couldn’t help but smile as I felt the stares of everyone around me; I knew exactly what they were thinking.  She looks so young!

And I WAS young. I was a married 20 year old with a newborn.  Most girls my age were Juniors in college, searching for jobs related to their careers. Then here I was, well on the road to adulthood, but without a clue of what to make of my life. .. until baby Ryan came along and changed my whole world.

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