Kiara's Birth Story Part III

This is the last part of Kiara's birth story. It's a little painful so don't feel like you have to read it.

Here are links to Part I and Part II in case you missed them.

Part III

They rolled me into surgery and I told myself it would be okay. The room was bright and filled with people. I moved from the bed to the table. They were surprised I could still move so much. Yeah, the epidural had worn off.

They laid me out like I was on a cross, drew up a blue curtain, and prepped me for surgery. The anesthesiologists added an additional dose of pain meds. Cold numbness returned. I stared at the bright white ceiling and thought of my baby girl. She would be here soon. I would finally meet her. An anesthesiologist pricked me with a pin to help determine if I was numb enough. I guess I was numb enough. David came in and they started.

I felt the tugging of my body against knife. I tried not to think about my body flayed open, and waited as David held my shoulder. I could both feel and not feel what was happening and then there was a cry and. She was here. I turned to my left where a nurse held a bloody, screaming baby. “She’s beautiful,” David said, but I wasn’t sure.

Then the baby was gone, but the pain was there, a growing, burning ache. David went to cut the cord and be with our baby.

One of the anesthesiologists told me congratulations. I nodded. I just wanted it to be over.

“What’s wrong?” she asked and I shook my head. I had no words for the pain I was feeling. The doctor was hard at work. It felt like he was vacuuming my insides. I couldn’t breathe, and then I asked, “How much pain am I supposed to be feeling?” The anesthesiologist paused for a moment. “What do you feel?” I described the tugging and pulling going on below my abdomen and the room went quiet. “We’ll give you another dose.”

David was with the baby. The doctor worked in silence. My body turned cold. I couldn’t stop my arms from shaking. The baby wailed. The pain persisted and the tears came. The burning pulling and tugging of my body against the doctor’s strokes was too much. “We’re almost done,” he said.

David was there with our crying little girl and an eternity later, they finished. Weeks later, David told me he thought was going to lose me on the table, but I never thought I would die. I just lay there, quivering, until someone crossed my arms on my chest. That’s when I started to breathe again. I stopped shivering and they rolled me into recovery. I held my gorgeous newborn daughter to my chest. She was here, crying but healthy. We were okay. 

Kiara Harper Nakada-Gantt April 1, 2012 12:34 am 7 lbs. 8 oz.