My Daughter's Birth

Today is my daughter’s birthday. The above photo was taken three years ago on this date in Boston. Sam is now one year away from officially becoming a paleontologist, so this is a fitting photo of her.

Twenty-three years ago this wonderful girl came into the world and forever changed my life. She wasn’t due until July 3rd, but she made an early entrance due to complications I will now tell you about.

On the afternoon of June 21st, 1999, I was lying on the couch reading a book. I felt a little uncomfortable because of my huge belly, so I decided to get up. As I shifted my weight to stand, I felt a sharp internal sensation and then I peed my pants.

At least, that’s what I initially thought had happened. What really happened was that my water had broken.

With my first-born, Trevor, the doctor had broken it to help speed things along — it didn’t work at all, but that’s a story for his birthday — so when my water broke on this date, I didn’t realize at first that that’s what it was. I was pissed at myself for pissing my pants, but when I went to the bathroom, I suddenly realized the truth.

So, I called my then, now ex, husband to let him know what had happened and that he should come home. While I waited for him, I also called my doctor to let him know.

Back to Trevor for a moment: he was born by c-section over 24 hours after I went into labor with him. His labor had been extremely slow, so I assumed the same would happen in the current situation. Thus, I didn’t rush off to the hospital.

In fact, I was still at home waiting for my “husband” to finish cleaning up from his construction job, so we could head to the hospital when my doctor called me to ask why I wasn’t at the hospital yet because he was now there waiting for me. I remember laughing a bit because my contractions were light and far apart, so I wasn’t worried too much. Plus, the hospital was only minutes away.

We were soon on our way, though, and after setting me up in a room and checking me over, the doctor agreed that it would most likely be a long while before I’d be delivering. He’d been adamant that I should try a natural delivery even though my first child had been delivered by c-section. I was young and healthy, so he saw no reason I shouldn’t try for a natural birth, no matter how long it might take.

The doctor went home to his house that was also only minutes away from the hospital, promising to be back as soon as the nurse informed him that it was about time to deliver the baby. I settled in for a long night of slowly increasing contractions, and my “husband” promptly fell asleep in the chair at my bedside.

The nurse came in from time to time to check on me. I was making very slow progress, just as had happened with Trevor, but I was making progress.

Around 3:00 a.m., the ex got up to use the bathroom, which was located a little ways beyond my door, and the nurse was down the hall at her desk. A few minutes after being left completely alone, I had a massive contraction, and the machine monitoring the baby’s heartbeat immediately flatlined.

I looked for the cord with the call button on it only to find that the stupid nurse had wrapped it around something that was far beyond my reach, so I started yelling for help. I was literally yelling, “Help! Help!” Then, I started screaming for my ex.

By then, the contraction had ended and the heart monitor had started beeping again, but I felt like I might have a heart attack at any moment. Finally, my ex came flying into the room, still trying to get his jeans pulled completely up because my scream had caught him in the middle of taking a dump.

Still no nurse, though.

I told him what had happened and that he needed to get the nurse. I know he really wanted to go finish that dump, but he did go get the nurse first.

Once she arrived and heard what had happened, she said that the monitor probably just slipped a little since the contractions were strengthening. She repositioned it and waited with me until the next contraction hit.

The same thing happened, and no matter how she repositioned the monitor, the baby’s heartbeat still didn’t register.

I was in full-blown panic mode at this point.

The nurse left to call the doctor and then returned to reposition me before the next contraction hit to see if that would help things.

It didn’t.

Like I said, the doctor was only minutes away, and he soon arrived. First, they lessened and then eliminated all the pain medication, thinking that might be causing problems with the baby. Thus, I got to feel the full force of the contractions very soon, as they were increasing not only in magnitude but also in timing.

They kept repositioning me and the doctor tried to reposition the baby, too, but nothing seemed to be working, and by now, fully in pain and worried sick about my baby, let’s just say that I was going out of my mind. Anyone who has seen me when anxiety takes over knows that it wasn’t a pretty sight.

Finally, at about 5:00 a.m. — I don’t recall exactly because I had other things on my mind — the doctor said he needed to do an emergency c-section because the baby was clearly in distress. I was, too, you can bet your ass.

They wheeled me in and prepped me and got another doctor there to assist. Good thing about small towns is that the doctors are all minutes away.

Once they’d opened me and ascertained that the baby was fine, they did allow the ex to come in, but he had to stand by my head. His main job actually was to try to keep me calm. The only thing I remember him saying to me was, “I can see through your skin,” at the sight of my skin stretched out tightly above me. I’m not sure how helpful that was.

I felt a lot of tugging, and it was taking much longer to get the baby out than it had with Trevor, so I asked what was happening. The doctor finally told me that the umbilical cord was wrapped tightly twice around the baby’s throat and they were being cautious as they unwrapped it.

Thus, the reason her heartbeats essentially stopped with each hard contraction.

Once they’d untangled her, they took her out and checked her over. She was fine. Thank goodness. I could breathe again.

Then, something I distinctly recall not happening with Trevor, smoke started billowing from behind the part that was draped. “Uh, what’s going on?” I asked. The doctor said that I had some fibrous growths, so they were just burning them off while they were in there.

All righty. Thanks for asking. Doctors. Good grief.

So, a little after 6:00 a.m. on June 22nd, my daughter was born. Today may be her birthday, but every day since then has been a gift for me. I love you, Sam.

The following poems were all inspired by her. If you are not a paid subscriber, please consider becoming one to access them and the other exclusive content I share only with paid subscribers. Thanks. Have a great day. Happy birthday again to my daughter.

Tammy Marshall