This is the second part of OBrother’s birth story. You can find the first part here.
The staff got me turned around in the bed and put him on my chest right away. I don’t remember anyone being too alarmist about it, but I do remember that something wasn’t right. OBrother was on my chest, we were rubbing him, trying to get him to cry, to wake up, to breathe.
After a few minutes? seconds? moments? of no change in OBrother, my midwife said three words in a row I’ll always remember:
“He’s still very blue and floppy, let’s get him over where we can wake him up a bit.”
With some urgency in her voice, she had DanO cut the umbilical cord. She acknowledged that our birth plan included our desire to leave the cord attached for a bit so that OBrother could get all that good cord blood, but that this was just not an option at this point.
I don’t know how routine this is, and I know my mother’s heart was never too worried (probably because my midwife and the nursing staff never seemed too worried), but there’s nothing ok with not being able to hold my baby for those moments.
Again, time is so strange when world changing things are happening. I have no idea how long the nurses had him over there – just 10 feet and 300 miles away from me. It was probably less than a couple minutes before he was back in my arms, pink, open-eyed, and perfectly perfect.
From there it was everything it should have been. We put him back on my chest and let him try to latch and nurse (human instincts are so amazing). We called him Isaac. We kissed him. We talked about how much he looked like OBoy. We said that it was wonderful to meet him.
And we told him how much we love him.
Because we do.