I lay there looking up at the ceiling, praying. It's as if it happened yesterday. The memories are so vivid. I remember the bright lights, the bed, the NICU team around the warmer to my left ready to act once Faith was delivered. You can hear my heart rate in the background almost trying to lure me out of the haze I was in. It's faint and almost brings a little bit of calm to me. Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.
The nurse behind me asks how I'm doing. They start talking to me now. I'm sure my blood pressure is rising at this point. They are trying to keep me as calm as can be.
There was lots of tugging. They tell me she is almost out. The doctor says the umbilical cord is wrapped around her neck twice. She's out.
Scott is videotaping. They bring her over to the warmer. I look over as they walk by with her. She is tiny and limp. Scott stops videotaping as they start working on her.
I close my eyes so tight and start praying. Please, please let me hold her before she dies. Let me hear her cry. Please God, if only for a little while. Please.
All of those fears of raising a child with special needs, they vanish. I don't care what I have to do but I will do it. I love her.
It was an intense few minutes that seemed like an eternity. All was quiet. The only noise was the NICU doctor saying, 'come on baby'.
I hear a muffled cry. A MUFFLED CRY is still a CRY! I hear another one, this time louder than the first.
I close my eyes, again. This time to thank God for letting her cry, for letting me hear her voice.
Tears continue to roll down my face. 3 lbs 9.8 oz. 15 1/2 inches long. So tiny, but not the 2 lbs they said she was the day before!
They finish putting me "back together" and for the first time before leaving the operating room, they let me hold her. She is the only child I was able to hold in the operating room. I am so thankful for that time. I am able to kiss her and tell her how much mommy loves her and how proud I am of her for fighting.
They tell me that they can hear a murmur when listening to her heart but her color is good, and she has a cleft palate and asked if I knew about that (we didn't). She is currently on a little bit of oxygen but say it might just be a transitional thing.
They take her back and put her in the warmer so she can travel to the NICU. I tell Scott not to worry about me. I tell him to go with Faith and make sure he goes out and tells the family she is okay.
I leave the operating room and travel to the recovery room with a sense of peace. I was cautiously optimistic. For some reason, deep down inside, I knew she was going to be okay. At least for now.
It would be another two hours before traveling to see her again.
The doctors say she will die shortly after birth. Prove the doctors wrong, my little one. Prove them wrong. Mommy is routing for you! You are already my little miracle baby. I love you so much!
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