No one knows exactly how long he was in distress for, his tiny heart rate only 64 for an indeterminate amount of time.
A doctor performed an episiotomy to help. It didn't.
She says, "we have to use a vacuum." It slipped off three times, the maximum *safe* tries.
She urged more doctors, "get her to OR, we need to do an emergency c-section."
Halfway through the door, trying to start anesthesia, my IV had come out. Two nurses at my sides both searching for a new vein, a couple unsuccessful tries each before getting a new line started.
With some sort of panic response, I gave it my all. Two nurses at my sides pulling my knees up and hips open.
His umbilical cord was around his neck, somewhat common and generally carrying no lasting effects. But he was already oxygen deprived, heart rate almost half of what the threshold is said to be.
They quickly untangled him within my last saving push to find his shoulder stuck, dystocia, an upwards of a small 3% chance.
Two nurses at my sides pushing down on my stomach, attempting to manually rotate his fragile body. The doctor with her hand within my womb, to reposition his arm and maneuver him out.
They grabbed him firm and pulled him side-to-side to get him free.
All halfway through the OR door. All unmedicated.
As they repaired the incision they had made at the beginning, the new tear that had occured in our emergency, he was immediately cut from the cord that had tethered us for 38 weeks, taken to an adjacent room to start his breathing and evaluate his condition.
But I could here him crying.
Screaming as I asked everyone in the room if he was okay.
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We were monitored 60 hours, extensive checks and tests and measures.
My partner saw it all, was there. The psychological toll had him sleeping almost the full holding time.
Three separate nurses came though at intervals, gently debriefing me of the events, the risks, what they're watching for within our small boy.
But we eventually made it home with no concerns, recovered just as well as if his delivery had been quick and smooth.
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It took another twelve hours, showered and settled in, for my body to calm and process what we'd been through.
I've been caught crying, tears falling from my face to the top of his tiny head as I hold him close and count his breaths.
Traumatic yet worth it, I am so overwhelmingly happy he is here and okay.
He is here and healthy and perfect.
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Born at 12:01 am on July 8th,
Weighing 7 lbs 10 oz, measuring 21.25" long..
