Martia’ Holloway
October 31, 2011
Nonfiction I
Essay #6
Pure white walls, a very well waxed floor, two chairs, a bed, one window, one small television mounted on the wall, and about six people standing around. As one lay in the bed, eating crushed ice in a very cold room. There was a mother, a father, a first cousin, a “baby daddy,” a daughter, and a sister. I know it was February 18, 2003 at 2:35 in the afternoon. I can remember this, because I was there and I remember. I can recall this.
The daughter lay in the bed with so much pain in her eyes, and every few minutes she would move and squirm around saying, “Mommy, I can’t do this it hurts so badly.” The mommy would reply, “You have to do this, we’re all here for you. The baby is coming whether you’re ready or not.” The baby daddy stood alongside the bed of his baby mother, not really knowing how to sooth her or even how to be a father. I was there too; I was the sister who I spoke about in the beginning. I was about seventeen years old and I wanted to know everything about having a baby and seeing my niece come into the world.
I didn’t stand alongside the bed; I paced the room asking my sister, “Are you okay? Does it hurt? Can you feel anything? What’s the ice for?” I continued to ask for the next few hours, because I didn’t know a woman could lie in a bed, eating crushed ice, and being mean to everyone just because she chose to have a baby. I was inquisitive and I was soon, no more like later about to find out. It quickly went from 2:38 in the afternoon to 5:00 in the evening. The cousin was restless, the father was scared, and the baby daddy was lost.
A nurse would often come into the room, pull back the blue curtain, ask everyone to leave but my mother, the baby daddy, and myself. I guess because we were the ones who would be staying for the actual birth of the baby. The nurse, in her plastic shoes, and light blue smocks reached into the drawer for a glove. She would ask the baby mother a series of questions, way more complicated than the ones I asked. With that gloved hand, she put a clear cream on and shoved her hand right in my sister’s virgin. “You’re dilated about four centimeters.” I don’t remember the exact measurements, because I’ve never been any good at math.
2:38 pm, 5:00 pm, and now 7:00 pm and still no baby in sight. The mother sat in the chair, the cousin in the waiting room with his friend who arrived to keep him company, the baby daddy sat in another chair that he drug over to left side of the bed. The father sat on the heater in the labor and delivery room, the sister (myself) still pacing. Still wondering, “What the hell was taking so long and what in the hell is an epidural?” The daughter sat up, bent over, and held on to the arm of her baby daddy as the nurse inserted the needle. Whatever that shit was, the daughter turned into someone very heavy medicated in about thirty minutes or what seemed like thirty minutes to me.
7:00 pm, 8:00 pm, 9:00 pm, 10:00 pm and still nothing. We were all restless and I had asked the same questions about a million times, but my sister just kept giving me the evil eye. The nurse came in about one hundred times and each time she violated my sister. Finally the nurse said, “You are dilated ten centimeters.” Everyone jumped up, rearranged their seats, and prepared themselves. I didn’t I continued to pace the room until I realized something big was about to happen. I looked up at the clock which had just struck midnight. The nurse cleared the room except for; me, the mother, and the baby daddy. My father said, “Got to go, I can’t stand this.”
The doctor came into the room and gave out orders as if he had been the one waiting for hours. The baby daddy and a nurse held my sisters legs back, I stood right in front of the hole waiting to see what was going to happen and what was going to come out. My sister began to push and push and push. Until finally I could see a head I yelled out over top of others screaming, “You can do this.” But, I had the best view so I yelled, “Kara I can see the head, omg!” Just as I said that the doctor reached for the emergency button. He said the baby was in distress.
I watched as they twisted and turned the head of the baby and her blood pressure dropped, the umbilical cord was around her neck. Once they pulled her out she wasn’t crying or moving. Then eventually she cried. They took her away instantly, washed her, and dressed her in the hospital fashion baby attire and handed her off. Pierce Deas was born at 4:38 am on February 19, 2003.
I know it seems like I skipped a whole piece of information and why the baby was in distress? I don’t know though, because no one said anything to us they just moved around quickly. The doctor and nurses only interacted with each other and finally a baby came out.
All I know is now I see why my mom says, “I brought you into this world and I will take you out.” She probably had to lie in a bed, eating crushed ice, and being mean.
