A Path to Life
August 27, 2009 is a date that I will
always remember. It was one of those days that you can talk about
years later and still picture it in your mind as if it were
yesterday. In fact, even as I am writing this story I can’t help
but to replay the events in my mind from start to finish as if I
were watching a movie. If a person were to recap their life in
death, this would certainly be the type of day they would reflect
upon first. At the time, I was completely unaware that it would
turn out to be one of the most important days of my life.
My story starts out on an ordinary day much like any other. I rolled out of bed cursing the sun for rising as I headed out of my room towards the kitchen. When I arrived in the kitchen my wife was already there cooking breakfast. While we were eating, a discussion arose about what we needed to get accomplished for the day. This conversation would soon prove meaningless as nothing on our agenda would take place. When our meal was through it was on to business as usual. My wife headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth and I went to get a towel before jumping into the shower. By now it was around 11 am and since it was my day off, I was looking forward to a nice long, hot shower. The kind of shower that just relaxes you and makes the troubles of the week just melt away. Pleased with the thought of the relaxation that was soon to occur I walked back to the bathroom. Upon my arrival I could see my wife with her back pressed against the counter and crouched over a bit as if she was in pain. I was immediately washed over by an overwhelming mixture of excitement and concern.
If you haven’t guessed by now, the most important detail I left out is that she was nine months pregnant! She was already one day past her due date and until now, there were no signs saying the baby was on its way anytime soon. She told me not to worry, that it was just normal cramps from the morning sickness. I didn’t buy that for a second so, I casually glanced at the clock and suggested that I should wait at least ten minutes before I began showering just in case. After five minutes passed by she was feeling her “cramps” again. Even though this was completely out of the ordinary, she remained in denial. When her first excruciatingly painful contraction came four minutes later, she finally believed what I had been trying to tell her. Fortunately, we were very well prepared already and the hospital was only one mile from our house. I got her situated into the car, making sure she was as comfortable as possible and then we headed out. Shortly after arriving to the hospital the real fun began.
My wife is a very strong woman and despite the intense pain from the contractions that were now three minutes apart, she refused to use a wheel chair. In order for you to fully appreciate that statement, I will pause and paint you a picture of what that journey entailed. The main lobby was a very large, open room approximately the width and length of a professional football field. Since going up the stairs to the third floor was out of the question, we had to take the elevators which were located about 70 yards from the entrance. Once we left the elevator on the third floor there was still a labyrinth of hallways to navigate for around another 30 – 40 yards in length. Then we had to check in and wait for a nurse to come assist us in a room with no seating. I use the word “room” loosely because it was essentially a hallway with a counter in the wall.
After she ran that gauntlet and jumped through all the hoops, the nurse finally came and led her to a little examination room. We were brought to this room for a last minute ultrasound to make sure the baby was properly positioned in the womb. Unfortunately, the baby had turned and was now in a breeched position. This was not only a safety concern but a big disappointment because my wife wanted to do a natural birth without the use of pain killers. With her contractions down to one minute intervals, there was no chance to discuss options because the baby was coming whether we were ready or not. After a very brief consultation on the procedures to come, they took her away to prepare her for the emergency cesarean section.
While she was being sedated, I was taken into another room to get scrubbed up and changed into sterilized gowns. When I was ready to go, I was escorted to another section of the hospital that was off limits to anyone who wasn’t a patient or staff member. I was left in a cold, uninviting hallway that was the epitome of what you would expect a hospital to look like. The ceiling, walls and floor that may have been white at some point, were now a dingy yellowish eggshell color. On the floor was thousands of faded scuff marks varying in size and shape that had been collected over many years. At the end of the hallway, there was a little blue plastic chair with silver legs that looked as if it had been borrowed from a nearby school many years ago and never returned. Behind this chair, which was to be my only companion for what seemed like an eternity, was a great big set of double doors that had a very unfashionable pastel green trim.
During my trial of patience, the only contact I had with someone other then my friend the blue chair, was the occasional nurse that would quickly move down the hallway and disappear through the big double doors. Finally, as I was hanging on to the edges of sanity I saw a nurse that was dressed slightly different from the others. Along with the light turquoise colored scrubs all of the nurses wore, she had a dark blue elastic cap on her head, booties covering her shoes and a large paper mask that covered everything from her chin to the middle of her nose. She stepped out slowly from the doorway and signaled for me to follow her. As I stood up to follow her I found myself hesitating for a moment as a feeling of excitement and nervousness took control of me. While she led me to the room where my wife was awaiting her surgery, I pondered over the thought that these were the last steps I would take as a young man and the first steps on my path to becoming a father.
Walking into the room, I saw my wife strapped to a table in a position similar to a crucifixion with a big blue curtain separating her face and arms from the rest of her body. Each arm was strapped down to the table with a large Velcro strap prohibiting any type of movement. Her eyes were slightly glazed over indicating that she was heavily sedated and not completely coherent. It was a very eerie sight to say the least. The room itself looked like a scene straight out of a horror film. Large machines were scattered about the room, each making its own distinctive sounds matched with blinking lights and visual displays. Several masked doctors were hovering over her body with a myriad of ominous looking tools by their side. You could tell with just a glance the majority of these tools were used for cutting away flesh. Scurrying about the room were masked nurses wearing light blue uniforms that were in strong contrast to the dark blue theme of the sterilized linens and curtains. They moved back and forth to the various machines holding notepads and methodically taking notes as they moved along. To say that it wasn’t quite what I expected would be an understatement.
To avoid ending up with multiple patients, the doctors told me that they don’t like people watching the surgery. They realized right away that I had no intentions of listening to them so, against their wishes, I watched as they performed the operation. They started by making an incision about eight inches long and it seemed hard to believe that my daughter would be pulled out of such a small cut. After only a few minutes the lead doctor paused to explain to my wife that she would feel some pressure as he worked the baby out of her womb. I remember thinking about how odd that statement sounded considering how sedated she was. At the exact moment he finished his sentence, he excitedly muttered the word “Whoa!” followed by a somewhat shocked “Congratulations, it’s a girl!” At 3:50 in the afternoon my daughter, Melissa Tiffany Walker was born!
During all of the excitement the baby had turned herself around to the position she should have been in from the beginning. This left the doctor a little shocked because the baby came out without any push or hesitation. Thankfully, she was born a very healthy baby weighing seven pounds two ounces and nineteen inches in length. Watching my daughter coming into the world is not a sight I will ever forget. I imagine you’re starting to think to yourself about how lovely a story this has been. If the story were to end here that would be a good conclusion and was precisely what we were thinking at the time. Little did we know that the events to follow would lead our story down a darker path filled with all sorts of drama, anger and confusion. I will leave you hanging there and save the rest as a story for another day.
My story starts out on an ordinary day much like any other. I rolled out of bed cursing the sun for rising as I headed out of my room towards the kitchen. When I arrived in the kitchen my wife was already there cooking breakfast. While we were eating, a discussion arose about what we needed to get accomplished for the day. This conversation would soon prove meaningless as nothing on our agenda would take place. When our meal was through it was on to business as usual. My wife headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth and I went to get a towel before jumping into the shower. By now it was around 11 am and since it was my day off, I was looking forward to a nice long, hot shower. The kind of shower that just relaxes you and makes the troubles of the week just melt away. Pleased with the thought of the relaxation that was soon to occur I walked back to the bathroom. Upon my arrival I could see my wife with her back pressed against the counter and crouched over a bit as if she was in pain. I was immediately washed over by an overwhelming mixture of excitement and concern.
If you haven’t guessed by now, the most important detail I left out is that she was nine months pregnant! She was already one day past her due date and until now, there were no signs saying the baby was on its way anytime soon. She told me not to worry, that it was just normal cramps from the morning sickness. I didn’t buy that for a second so, I casually glanced at the clock and suggested that I should wait at least ten minutes before I began showering just in case. After five minutes passed by she was feeling her “cramps” again. Even though this was completely out of the ordinary, she remained in denial. When her first excruciatingly painful contraction came four minutes later, she finally believed what I had been trying to tell her. Fortunately, we were very well prepared already and the hospital was only one mile from our house. I got her situated into the car, making sure she was as comfortable as possible and then we headed out. Shortly after arriving to the hospital the real fun began.
My wife is a very strong woman and despite the intense pain from the contractions that were now three minutes apart, she refused to use a wheel chair. In order for you to fully appreciate that statement, I will pause and paint you a picture of what that journey entailed. The main lobby was a very large, open room approximately the width and length of a professional football field. Since going up the stairs to the third floor was out of the question, we had to take the elevators which were located about 70 yards from the entrance. Once we left the elevator on the third floor there was still a labyrinth of hallways to navigate for around another 30 – 40 yards in length. Then we had to check in and wait for a nurse to come assist us in a room with no seating. I use the word “room” loosely because it was essentially a hallway with a counter in the wall.
After she ran that gauntlet and jumped through all the hoops, the nurse finally came and led her to a little examination room. We were brought to this room for a last minute ultrasound to make sure the baby was properly positioned in the womb. Unfortunately, the baby had turned and was now in a breeched position. This was not only a safety concern but a big disappointment because my wife wanted to do a natural birth without the use of pain killers. With her contractions down to one minute intervals, there was no chance to discuss options because the baby was coming whether we were ready or not. After a very brief consultation on the procedures to come, they took her away to prepare her for the emergency cesarean section.
While she was being sedated, I was taken into another room to get scrubbed up and changed into sterilized gowns. When I was ready to go, I was escorted to another section of the hospital that was off limits to anyone who wasn’t a patient or staff member. I was left in a cold, uninviting hallway that was the epitome of what you would expect a hospital to look like. The ceiling, walls and floor that may have been white at some point, were now a dingy yellowish eggshell color. On the floor was thousands of faded scuff marks varying in size and shape that had been collected over many years. At the end of the hallway, there was a little blue plastic chair with silver legs that looked as if it had been borrowed from a nearby school many years ago and never returned. Behind this chair, which was to be my only companion for what seemed like an eternity, was a great big set of double doors that had a very unfashionable pastel green trim.
During my trial of patience, the only contact I had with someone other then my friend the blue chair, was the occasional nurse that would quickly move down the hallway and disappear through the big double doors. Finally, as I was hanging on to the edges of sanity I saw a nurse that was dressed slightly different from the others. Along with the light turquoise colored scrubs all of the nurses wore, she had a dark blue elastic cap on her head, booties covering her shoes and a large paper mask that covered everything from her chin to the middle of her nose. She stepped out slowly from the doorway and signaled for me to follow her. As I stood up to follow her I found myself hesitating for a moment as a feeling of excitement and nervousness took control of me. While she led me to the room where my wife was awaiting her surgery, I pondered over the thought that these were the last steps I would take as a young man and the first steps on my path to becoming a father.
Walking into the room, I saw my wife strapped to a table in a position similar to a crucifixion with a big blue curtain separating her face and arms from the rest of her body. Each arm was strapped down to the table with a large Velcro strap prohibiting any type of movement. Her eyes were slightly glazed over indicating that she was heavily sedated and not completely coherent. It was a very eerie sight to say the least. The room itself looked like a scene straight out of a horror film. Large machines were scattered about the room, each making its own distinctive sounds matched with blinking lights and visual displays. Several masked doctors were hovering over her body with a myriad of ominous looking tools by their side. You could tell with just a glance the majority of these tools were used for cutting away flesh. Scurrying about the room were masked nurses wearing light blue uniforms that were in strong contrast to the dark blue theme of the sterilized linens and curtains. They moved back and forth to the various machines holding notepads and methodically taking notes as they moved along. To say that it wasn’t quite what I expected would be an understatement.
To avoid ending up with multiple patients, the doctors told me that they don’t like people watching the surgery. They realized right away that I had no intentions of listening to them so, against their wishes, I watched as they performed the operation. They started by making an incision about eight inches long and it seemed hard to believe that my daughter would be pulled out of such a small cut. After only a few minutes the lead doctor paused to explain to my wife that she would feel some pressure as he worked the baby out of her womb. I remember thinking about how odd that statement sounded considering how sedated she was. At the exact moment he finished his sentence, he excitedly muttered the word “Whoa!” followed by a somewhat shocked “Congratulations, it’s a girl!” At 3:50 in the afternoon my daughter, Melissa Tiffany Walker was born!
During all of the excitement the baby had turned herself around to the position she should have been in from the beginning. This left the doctor a little shocked because the baby came out without any push or hesitation. Thankfully, she was born a very healthy baby weighing seven pounds two ounces and nineteen inches in length. Watching my daughter coming into the world is not a sight I will ever forget. I imagine you’re starting to think to yourself about how lovely a story this has been. If the story were to end here that would be a good conclusion and was precisely what we were thinking at the time. Little did we know that the events to follow would lead our story down a darker path filled with all sorts of drama, anger and confusion. I will leave you hanging there and save the rest as a story for another day.
0 Comments
Click here to sign up now.