I’m sitting on the operating table with my legs dangling over the edge, hugging both a pillow and a nurse I met an hour ago.
Stay super still now. Just a pinch. It’s going to sting. The anesthesiologist is messing with my spine. I’m in my head. Words of encouragement are coming at me from three different people at once. I can do hard things. I think. Suddenly, I am very nervous. Breathe. Remember to breathe.
Babies his gestational age don’t come out breathing. The nurse in the E.R. told me the week before. She didn’t know my medical history. She changed her tune when she found out. Better out than in. She said trying to save face.
Now they are laying me back and covering my view with the paper cloth. Jason is there now. Oxygen and a can you feel that? I’m pinching you very hard. And we are holding hands, trying to focus on each other instead of everything else. He is breathing hard. Are you okay? I think he may pass out. We can do hard things. This is the last time we have to do this. The last time.
They are talking on the other side of the paper. There is pressure but not pain. They are tugging and sucking and moving everything around. Are you okay? I can do hard things.
I am vomiting. It’s from them moving everything the anesthesiologist says. Are you ready? He is pulling at the clamps. He is pulling the paper down. Are you ready? And I hear it. He is screaming! You have to breathe to scream! Hello! Hello! I say I love you!
This is the last time we have to do this. We can do hard things. And now I can breathe again.
William Jay- born Friday, May 6th at 8:01 a.m. – screaming