"The goal is to keep her alive today...maybe fold some laundry" - Victoria Marie Summerlin

"It's okay," I whispered as I stroked my wife's hair. "Now you can just sit back and let them take over. I'm proud of you," I smiled. Victoria let out a breath, then nodded. A woman in baby blue scrubs and a matching hairnet walked into our labor and delivery room."We can't take all the pain away," She said. What a *****, I think (insert your favorite five letter word of vulgarity, I'd share mine but I'd like this post to be as PG as possible.)***We'd come as a precaution...just to make sure everything was okay with Victoria and the baby. Our nurse Misty ran a test. It was negative. The baby wouldn't be coming today.We still have time,I thought. I remember asking my wife what we should get for lunch afterwards. Misty came back. "So turns out there was some confusion with the test result. You're having your baby today," Misty said. Victoria's amniotic sac had ruptured. Victoria's mouth drops into an excited smile. Huh? I thought. Misty wheeled Victoria into a labor and delivery room. She was put on an IV. Our doctor came and told us the game plan. First on the agenda 'pitocin.' A red flag went up. I looked to my wife. She nodded her head as our doctor spoke. Her eyes were locked and attentive. They were also wide."I've heard bad things about pitocin," I said, voicing my wife's unsaid concerns. The doctor nodded. She explained that under normal circumstances she wouldn't utilize the drug, but under these circumstances it was necessary to jump start Victoria's contractions as the risk for infection was high due to the ruptured amniotic sac. "We're starting the dose at two milliliters," she said. "A normal hospital would generally start the drip in the fifty milliliter range. We don't want to do that, we just want to give her body a soft nudge in the right direction," She explained. I looked to Victoria. Her eyes had normalized. I nodded. They started the drip.It started small, as did Victoria's contractions. The drip was gradually increased, but never going above eighteen milliliters. Somewhere in between Victoria had opted for an epidural. I stood in front of her, holding her focus and bracing her as she fought through the pain of its insertion. She could no longer eat or drink for the remainder of her labor. Her only relief were the spoonfuls of ice chips that I fed her throughout the night.After some time had passed our doctor returned. She stopped the pitocin drip, and to inserted a balloon catheter, another technique that would hopefully prompt my wife's cervix to dilate further pushing its two centimeters gradually to four. Hours went by. Our obstetrician went home. A new doctor came in to take her place. A brusque woman with what may have been a Russian accent. This new doctor removed the balloon. We'd made it to five centimeters...halfway there.A few hours later the Victoria's water was forcibly burst. Gushes of water and blood. Victoria couldn't see from her position high on the bed. I was glad for it. She laughed, not having the words to describe the feeling. Her contractions worsened and continued to do so."I don't know how much longer I can do this," Victoria said to me several hours later.***That was twenty seven hours ago. After twenty seven hours of continuous non stop pain, thirst, hunger and total lack of sleep the Russian doctor returned telling us that a C-section was the only way forward. Victoria's eyes widened. The grip she held around my hand tightened and her lips pursed into a tight line. The Russian doctor exited.Victoria began to shake. Her lip picked up a slight tremble. "It's okay," I said stroking her hair. After a few moments her tremble subsided. Her shaking disappeared. She let out a long calming breath, locked eyes with me and nodded. Then in came the witch of an anesthesiologist and broke my wife's calm. The anesthesiologist described our 'pain management options' and described what my wife could 'expect to feel.' I thought she'd be made to feel nothing. My wife's wide eyes confirmed this was what she'd expected as well. However, that wasn't the case. She'd feel 'pressure' and lots of it. Admittedly this wasn't the worst thing in the world. Especially considering what all was about to happen, and what that would most likely feel like.Nevertheless...choosing your first words to be "we can't take away all the pain," to an already terrified soon to be mother awaiting major surgery was crappy bed side manner if I'd ever seen it. Her instructions to me began equally as brusque, but something in my sleep deprived eyes must have changed her tone. While noticed, the damage to my wife's calm had been done. It was damaged further when they wheeled her away and told me to wait for ten minutes...someone would come for me when they were ready.At this point it was debatable whose calm was more rattled. I stood alone in a now empty hospital room. I dawned my own pair of baby blue scrubs, matching hair net and booties. I pulled my surgical mask down below my chin. Then I waited. I moved from one end of the room to the other. I repeated this process once, twice, and after what must have been fifteen years of pacing the anesthesiologist returned."You ready to be a dad?" She chirped. Maybe, I thought. I nodded my head. "Well follow me," she began walking down the familiar hallway towards Victoria's operating room. "Do you know what you're having?" The woman asked. "We don't," I responded. The fact did nothing to calm my heart, but replaced some of the festering fear with genuine excitement."Oh really?! I love that!" The woman exclaimed. "Do you have any bets going?" she asked. "We do actually. I think it's a boy, my wife thinks it's a boy too but she's hoping for a girl. If it's a boy I decide where we eat on our next dinner date, and if it's a girl my wife decides," I relay as we turn the corner. Despite going through two tours of the hospital and spending several hours wandering the halls, I had not been allowed in this particular part of the hospital. Two double doors rested on both the right and left side. The two on the right were open."My money is on boy," the woman said placing her bet. Her imaginary prize being a local steakhouse. We walked through the double doors. We entered a large operating room. Six or seven doctors and nurses surrounded a large metal table. A long blue surgical curtain hung from two poles on either side. I spotted my wife on the left side of the curtain. She was laying on the table, the curtain rested on her neck, obscuring her view of the rest of the room. "Let's sit by your wife," the anesthesiologist said.The two of us made our way to my wife's head. I pulled up a stool and sat next to her. Her eyes were wet at the corners. Her eyes met mine. They were wider then I'd ever seen them. She remained silent."It's okay," I said stroking her cheek. I looked slightly to my right. My wife's arms were extended and strapped down on either side of her, like a chrome crucifix. I heard a pop. I turned in the direction of the sound but realize it was just my knuckles popping as they made an involuntary fist."Okay, we're going to start," the anesthesiologist said."Okay," Victoria's voice broke. From my place by her side I can see the tops of the doctors and nurses begin to move. I turn to Victoria. He face contorts in confused discomfort. She remains silent. "You're going to feel like a grown man is sitting on your chest," the anesthesiologist informs us. Victoria nods. I see two women suddenly rise above the rest. Their arms begin pulsing frantically up and down, and side to side. "It hurts!" Victoria gasped. Her eyes wince shut. Her strapped down arms clench into fists but remain fixed to the chrome. I feel my shoulders tense. I look towards the anesthesiologist. She's standing...just standing. I hear another familiar pop as both my hands tighten. Then I hear a baby's cry."Oh!" Victoria gasps. Her eyes shimmer as she listens. "What is it?" Victoria asks. I can't see from my seated position. "Go on take a look daddy," the anesthesiologist prompts. I stand. Peering over the light blue curtain a see a baby hovering over a literal pool of blood. I focus on the baby, struggling to find the identifying gender markers."What is it?" Victoria asks again. "I can't tell," I say cocking my head. The woman holding the baby moves her closer to me, bringing the screaming infant to our side of the curtain. "Well," the woman holding the baby says. She angles the baby for me to see."It's a girl," I say."June," Victoria whispered before closing her eyes and falling asleep. ***The next three nights at the hospital went by fast. Between learning essential parenting skills like: changing diapers, swaddling, giving sponge baths and learning proper feeding techniques, I also looked after Victoria, whom in addition to having a C-section, also had adverse effects to the morphine.Ultimately, these effects manifested themselves as light hallucinations, lasting for just shy of a twenty four hour period. Thankfully, the hallucinations were a welcomed addition to the attending nursing staff. Humor was found in many of the following statements uttered by my wife while recovering from the morphine:1. Victoria: "Do you think they'll stop her?" Nurse: "Who?"Victoria: "We're having a fundraiser at our school to support this to foundation. We're selling lemonade. I just want to make sure they wont stop June from selling."Nurse: (Looks to me and back to Victoria confused) I think she'll be okay."2. Nurse: "So how are y'all doing?"Victoria: "I'm doing good. I'm four centimeters dilated. I'm getting induced in the morning."Victoria's Mom: "Victoria, you already had the baby, she's right there (she points to June in my arms). Victoria: "I know." (Victoria turns back to the nurse.) "I'm getting induced in the morning."3.Victoria: "So how do ......................................" (She looks at me) "What do you think?"Me: "How do what?"Victoria: "Oh my! Was I not saying anything?"4.Victoria: "When foontill krite bine the hamster?"Victoria's Mom: "What?"Victoria: "Uhg you're worse than Davis,"Eventually the effects wore off. We entered the hospital Friday afternoon, we were discharged Tuesday afternoon. Our first night at home was both exhausting and relieving. Exhausting for all the stereotypical reasons that newborns are exhausting, and relieving in the sense that we were finally home. That made it better. Wednesday morning Victoria and I sat on the couch. She looked at me and said:"The goal today is to keep her alive...maybe fold some laundry."Mind blowing Side note! In the kindle version of 'If Only' is available for just .99 all week. Click below to get your copy if you have not already done so!