Birth of Aquila Jade Paparella- (written to my baby girl) Dec 19th 2009
Day of the 18th- overdue and hurting..had so many rounds of “false” labor. Take castor oil. Get the runs, but no labor. Still, I feel like you will be born tomorrow. Saturday...Saturday's child works hard for a living. I lay out the waterproof mat on my bed.
Midnight- wake up..why?? then GUSH..soak the waterproof pad. Giddy inside. You are coming today! I put on a pad and pull out the laptop..excitement...internet...contractions here and there.
4am- decide to sleep since they aren't getting stronger. Sleep till 6. get up and go on about my day.
11am- contractions have become regular. Gabe calls Yoshimi, the hair braider. . Amy comes to be my support, my friend..
Yoshimi braids my hair while I bounce on the birth ball. She pauses her braiding for me to moan through the surges.
(here is where I lose track of time- you are born at 5:26pm)
My hair is braided and I call Faith (midwife) to tell her I NEED to get in my tub-this hurts! I get in tub- bring more hot water-this is cold!..laboring...Call Katie Jo (photographer) and Faith, both will come in one hour...this is getting heavy..my back hurts so bad- did she turn posterior??
Faith comes, Katie Jo comes. Faith says that your heart rate is too high, baby girl...180... I check myself and can barely feel cervix.
Laboring...can't.keep.voice.low..feeling pushy at the end of each one. I pass three chunks of bloody mucus. Faith wants to check me- only 5-6- WHAT?! I can't do this. They (contractions/monsters?) are coming so strong, so close together...HOW can this not be doing anything??
They say I have to get out. my temp is too high. Baby, you need to cool off. Hopefully to lower your heart rate. Out I go, SO COLD out here. Dribbling, little gushes of blood. Worry.. I WANT AN Epidural... how can I make it that far??THEY won't stop holding me in vice grips, won't let go...
She checks me again-no change- your heart rate has dropped-160- they are glad...i am so scared... like a trapped animal I cry out from my eyes- to Gabe-to Faith- to Amy. I can't do this, I keep saying that. Moaning is screaming now. NO!>>>
We will go to the hospital..dressing. From room, down hall, down stairs- so many contractions. Two steps...stop scream...two steps...stop scream...downstairs, my children are watching TV.
outside-cold, bright, sunny...neighbor's children playing.
NO, not a contraction in front of them. Trying to hide inside Amy's car door. But... “i have to poop” they are laughing- that's the baby! I don't want to deliver in the driveway so back inside we run. pain has stopped, but I feel you right there, on the brink.I head strait for the white couch. “Kiryn, OFF!” I shout. The children are herded upstairs by Bethany. I climb up, facing the back of the couch. You are crowning. I support with my left hand, and cup your growing head with my right. So slippery, hot.wet... you drop into my hands like to heavy, wet blobs. You fall to the couch. I hear Faith yelling (wait, Faith does not yell??), “pick her up!”
I do, I pick you up, but say “i can't any farther, her cord is too short” I look at your face. Blood is running from your nose. Your eyes are closed. No movement. Faith is sucking blood from your mouth with hers. She yells “get me my bulb syringe!” I try to wipe the blood from you nose, rub your back...
I sit down next to you, legs spread, you laying limp and white in between. They (faith, Amy) are working on you. CPR, chest compressions (looks like the doll from CPR class two months before) ...DeLee. I am sobbing, rubbing your feet. So long ago Faith called out, “someone call 911!”. such a limp foot... I touch the cord to see if it is pulsing. It is cold, collapsed...time has no meaning when a baby is silent..
CRY , baby, CRY! Sobbing..EMS flood the room, all around my baby. Faith says, “is that your placenta?” I am moaning, contracting. I think it is...but, no it is a clot, the same size ..then more smaller balls of blood. Another contraction...placenta...GUSH
Me, asking Faith, “is there any way she could live?”
….............................. “she's not going to make it”
I know it's true , baby, I know it. But, still they are working. They are taking you away from me, loading you up, headed for the children's hospital.
I never see you warm again. They are loading me up. BLOOD everywhere, soaking, standing, staining....you were born in a river of blood, baby girl....
