Think happy thoughts...

Wave after wave of contractions washed over me. In between faded cold moments on the stretcher, the blinding pain radiating from my pregnant belly pulled me back into the present in a violent scream. As my whole body arched against the restrains tying me down onto the stretcher, I remember vaguely being impressed at my body's strength and mobility despite being so swollen with pregnancy. I was going into labor; a part of me was very excited about the thought. Today is going to be my son's birthday. But...is he still alive? Oh God, please let him still be alive!--Another wave of pain.--I think the EMT next to me was stroking my arm and holding my hand. "Have you felt the baby kick since this all started?" she asked me, practically reading my mind. I desperately tried to focus in on my stomach. C'mon, Hayden. Give mommy a sign. Kick me now, please! Nothing. I looked at the EMT through watery eyes. "I don't know." I admitted. "I thought I felt him move earlier, but right now...."--Another wave of pain.--"...it's hard for me to tell with all these contractions!" The EMT gave me a grave nod. I remember secretly being angry at her for not giving me a more comforting response. But considering my past experience with bad news in regards to pregnancy and loss, I'm not sure I would've appreciated false hope either.

No matter how hard I try, I honestly don't remember much more of the ambulance ride. With all my blood loss, it is very possible I was fading in and out of consciousness. My doctor later said there was a good chance I was awake for it all but that I was suffering from slight memory loss as a result of the anesthesia they gave me before surgery and the trauma I went through. From what I can remember, the ride felt like it was maybe five minutes long at best. One second we were leaving my neighborhood, and the next, after several seemingly endless questions and contractions along the way, we were pulling into the hospital.

"We are here." they announced as they pulled me, stretcher and all, out of the ambulance.
"Already?" I chuckled.--I felt vaguely embarrassed for laughing. Clearly it was neither the time nor the place. But I couldn't help it. I needed something to smile about, if even for a brief and ridiculous moment.--Maybe they were walking quickly, or maybe they were jogging. It felt like we came flying through the hallways to the OR. As we burst through the front doors I remember seeing another pregnant couple standing nearby as we entered. In a flash, I could see the look of terror on the poor woman's face. Here she was, probably there to deliver her baby, and in comes me: a pregnant woman, covered in blood, screaming and arching in pain, as a group of EMTs rush me off. The woman protectively held her belly as if to thwart off whatever evil came with my presence. I wanted to shout out words of reassurance to her, to let her know my situation was unique and wouldn't befall on her and her baby. (It's almost impossible to think that, I was inches away from dying and here I was feeling guilty for scaring the other moms in the lobby.) But before I could even muster a weak attempt at a reassuring smile, I was already back in the OR.

I couldn't tell you what the room looked like. All I could see was an endless hive of faceless doctors and nurses swarming around me. Heating blankets were draped over me, bright lights flooded my vision, and there were questions. So many questions. Do you have any allergies? How far along are you? You had a cerclage removed today? Why did you have a cerclage put in place? How far along was the pregnancy when you had the cerclage put in? Who is your normal doctor? How old are you?.... My head was swimming. Seven, eight...ten different masked faces asking me questions all at once. I struggled to answer them, struggled to hear them, struggled not to give in to the desperate need for sleep and the overwhelming pain that surged through me. So many questions! How am I supposed to answer them when they are all talking to me at once? I looked down at all the needles and wires being plugged into my skin. They apologized for the pain it caused me, but I had felt nothing. Should I have felt something? "We are able to get a strong heartbeat from your baby, so he is doing fine." someone informed me. "But he will have to come out as soon as possible." I nodded in agreement. Thank God Hayden is okay! He is alive! He's going to be okay! I was overcome with relief.

"Okay Ma'am, we need to see how dilated you are," a faceless figure hovered around my legs as several of her masked helpers pulled my pants off. I winced in embarrassment as they stripped me of my underwear. I could feel the weighted resistance of the blood soaked material as they slid it down my legs. I looked away, feeling vulnerable and ashamed. Don't be embarrassed. They are doctors. This is their job. You've had lots of doctors look down there during pregnancy. They have to do this. It's for the baby. As they spread my legs, there was no hesitation as the doctor thrust her hand inside me. It was the worst pain I had felt yet. Rejecting the presence of her hand pushing deeper and deeper into my loins, my entire body arched off of the bed as I let out a shrill scream, tears pouring down the sides of my face, pooling into my ears. Her expression was one of determination and frustration. "I can't feel how dilated you are. There is too much clotting getting in the way." As I lay there trembling all over, I asked her in a feeble voice, "will I be able to deliver my baby vaginally? I really wanted to try for a VBAC." Her gaze never left my genitals. "There is no way to tell how dilated you are. I can try and check once more, but with the amount of blood loss going on here, I don't think it will be possible." Before I could consent to it, she was already thrusting her hand back inside me, deeper than before as she pressed down on my pelvic bone, causing more pain that even before. Again I screamed aloud, pleading for her to stop as several doctors tried to hold my body still. As I was being violated and restrained, the masked woman sat there shaking her head. "This will have to be done via cesarean." My breath came in as sharp gasps as I tried to calm down the searing pain that was left radiating through my body. My dreams of having a vaginal delivery, all the hard work and research I had put in to ensuring a VBAC went out the window. But in that moment, I didn't care. I was going to do whatever was necessary to save my baby. "Okay," I choked out. I realized then that a nurse was holding my hand. I looked at her through all the chaos around me. "It'll be okay, sweetie." She assured me. "You and your baby are going to be just fine." All I could do was nod but I was so grateful for at least one human among all of the faceless masks. But the moment of connection was briefly swept away as another masked man came hovering into view. "Okay." he said, "We will be doing this by cesarean section and we have to do it now."

I didn't panic when I had blood pouring down my legs. I was calm when I said goodbye to my husband and my son. I never once feared for my life on the way to the hospital and even when I arrived at the OR. But with this one word: "now," panic set in.

"Now? As in right now?" I asked him.
"Yes."
"But my husband was following the ambulance. He should be here any second. Can't we wait for him to be here?"
The masked man looked impatient. "No." he warned. "And because you have lost so much blood, we have to put you to sleep for the procedure."
I was consumed with fear now. "Knock me out? You mean, I won't be awake for it?"
He nodded gravely.
"No! No, I have to be awake for the birth of my son! Please don't put me to sleep! Please!" Tears silently fell without me blinking. My eyes frantically darted around in desperation, searching for some answers.
The masked man's expression softened in sympathy. "You've lost too much blood. At this point, we can't give you anything for the pain because you simply don't have enough blood in you for it to work. The only way we can spare you from feeling it all is by putting you to sleep for the surgery. And it has to happen right now." His last words were stern.
"But my husband! I need him to be here!"
He shook his head again. "Is your other child with him?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Than he cannot come back here until someone else can come watch your child."
In that moment I was mad that Andy was with Joe. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. I was supposed to go into labor and Andy was supposed to be with his grandparents when it happened. I felt bad for being mad about Andy's presence because I wanted so desperately to be with him. But I needed my husband there with me. I needed him to hold my hand as I drifted to sleep so I would know everything would be okay.
The doctor walked away to prep for the surgery leaving me to cry out my protests into the nothingness between us. "Please! Don't do this! Can't we give my husband at least another minute? I don't want to be alone!..." I looked from face to face for an answer as I whispered to myself, "I don't want to be alone." But I was left with the cold reality: I was about to be put under for surgery and I had no loved ones there to support me. I still had no idea why I was bleeding out. And I was about to miss the birth of my son.

The masked man returned with an oxygen mask and placed it over my face. "This is going to help you go to sleep. I want you to take deep breaths and think happy thoughts." he instructed. Okay...think happy thoughts...Joe. I'm in Joe's arms. He is holding me and dancing with me.... I started to feel my body relax. Everything will be okay. I will wake up and see my new baby and Andy and Joe...Joe...you are my happy thought. I love you Joebear!.... My body felt fuzzy and heavy. Okay it's happening now. I'm going to go to sleep.

But I didn't go to sleep.

A sudden weight was crushing down on my chest and panic set in. I couldn't breath. My eyes darted up to the doctor as I began to claw at the mask. "I can't..." I tried to take a breath but failed. "I..." Pointing at the mask, I struggled to tell the doctor that I couldn't breath, but he just smiled and nodded. "It's okay." he assured me as several doctors pinned me down. I thrashed as hard as I could against them, trying to pull off the mask, their fingers digging into my skin as they held me against the bed. Oh God! I can't breath! Why can't I breath? Am I having a reaction to the sedation? I can't breath! Why won't they help me? Why don't they understand? Oh God, I have to breath!....I can't...I need to....oh God!...What if I die?...Am I dying?....Is this what dying feels like?....I need to breath!....

And suddenly the whole world went dark.