My eyes snapped open, "MAAAX!"
He rushed right over to me, "What?! What is it?!"
"My water just broke!"
For a second, there was panic in his eyes. But when he saw me reacting negatively to it, he masked it. "Okay. Stay here for right now. I'll get everything into the car and start it, call the OB while I'm doing it, and I'll come back up to get you, alright?"
I nodded quickly, but silently. I was freaking out. I'm gonna have a baby. I'm gonna be a mom! Those were the two thoughts that continuously ran through my head as I sat there terrified.
I counted the seconds it took Max to do what he said until he made it back to me. "You ready to get up?" I only stared at him, I couldn't force any words out. He took that as a yes anyway and slowly helped me up.
Max supported me as we made our way down the stairs, but I had to stop midway for a couple minutes when a contraction started and all I could do was lean on Max and groan in pain. After it passed, we continued our way down the stairs and to the car. He helped me in and rushed to the driver's side of the car.
A few minutes into the drive, another contraction hit, I reacted with a groan, similarly to how I did on the stairs at home, "You okay?" Max asked.
"No. Keep driving," I told him, my eyes closed. I was focused on getting through the pain.
Max spoke again, "seven minutes."
"What?"
"It was seven minutes between the stairs and just now."
"Oh good! You're keeping track!" I meant it seriously, at least I thought I did. However, the way it came out sounded sarcastic.
Even after the pain passed, I kept my eyes closed. I was exhausted and trying not to let the panic consume me at the same time. I was consciously making sure to take deep, even breaths and was repeating the words you can do this in my head, though I wasn't sure I believed it. Every minute or so I could feel Max glancing at me, "Max, if you don't keep your eyes on the road and drive like you usually do, I swear to God I'm going to kill you."
Max was a good driver, he just drove fast. At the moment though, it felt like he was barely driving the speed limit. I knew if he kept glancing at me, he would eventually get distracted and something bad could happen. The goal was to get to the hospital as quickly as possible without getting in a car accident and being injured.
It was a twenty minute drive to the hospital, but it felt like so much longer than that. I was falling asleep as we made our way there. I think my brain and body were so tired from all the stress I was under. The baby didn't seem to want me to rest though because the minute I fell asleep, another contraction hit. They didn't even last a minute, but it was nowhere close to feeling pleasant. The pain was extremely similar, if not identical, to what I thought were intensified Braxton Hicks contractions I felt the earlier in the day; those had seemed more noticeable and didn't go away as quickly if I moved. Maybe what I started feeling were real contractions, and I just didn't know.
This time, Max grabbed my hand to show his support and continued driving. I held tightly to him as I waited for the pain to subside. When it did, Max didn't say anything.
I loosened my grip on his hand, then asked "how long this time?"
"Still seven minutes." He replied shortly. His hand left mine only for a few seconds to turn the music on, then he returned it. My song was playing and I hummed along. In the middle of the second time it played, the pain started again. I made a sound of discomfort and gripped Max's hand a little tighter until it went away again.
"Six." Max said, "we should be there in a couple minutes."
As we were heading into the hospital, another contraction hit, causing me to stop in my tracks. This one lasted longer, not by much but I had been counting the seconds they lasted; it had been a whole minute.
When I was able to move again, I heard Max's voice say, "six minutes." By the time I had gotten a room and machines all hooked up to me, I was having another one.
It took five hours for the amount of time the contractions lasted to increase. The last couple of hours after that were the worst. I don't even think from that point on I was completely present.
Childbirth was a pain that I did not think I could ever go through again. Everything was excruciating and in my head it was all so chaotic. So many people were talking: one was yelling, other voices mumbled loud enough for me to hear, there was one that was a frantic kind of calm.
"Push!" A voice shouted.
"1, 2, 3, 4..." Another counted.
"You can do this," from the frantic yet calm voice.
"Again!"
"1, 2, 3..."
"You're so so strong!"
The voices all jumbled together as if they were all happening at the same time, the pain that ripped through me didn't cease and I was still trying not to panic as the sweat matted my hair to my head and dripped down my neck. I just wanted to scream from frustration and pain. There were several times that I did.
"You're doing amazing."
"Another, Wren!"
"2, 3, 4, 5..."
"One more!"
"1, 2, 3, 4..."
"You got this, Wren!"
Then everything stopped.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
There was a second where everything was calm. The pain I'd been in for hours had significantly lessened, the voices stopped, and I felt like I could breathe again. For a split second.
Until I realized there was no crying infant.
Then everything hit me like a ton of bricks.
I tried to focus on the voices of the doctors and nurses, but only got snippets at a time.
"Time... 21:47:13."
"Umbilical cord... neck."
"70 seconds."
"Not breathing."
"Mom... distress... rate... spiking."
I could feel my throat closing up. I may not have heard every single word they said, but I knew what was happening. I had read about it, if a baby wasn't breathing at birth within the first three minutes that passed they could have severe brain damage, after six minutes the baby was declared brain dead.
No.
No!
NO!
It began to get difficult to breathe, I could feel the hot tears trickling down my face, and the panic set in. I'm going to lose her. I didn't even have her yet.
"85 seconds." Just then they had finished unwrapping the cord from her neck. My vision started to go in and out, but I tried to maintain focus on the images of medical personnel across the room.
The panic got worse. Like always, I couldn't feel my fingers or my hands. I couldn't catch my breath, like there wasn't enough oxygen in the air. But in the moment I didn't care. All I cared about was if my baby girl was breathing or not.
She's gonna die! She's dying!
I cried out from the heartbreak I was feeling amongst the panic. The ache in my chest was so intense, I barely noticed that someone had placed an oxygen mask over my face. When did that happen?
"102 seconds."
I wanted to scream. I had lied before. This pain was worse than that of giving birth. She was dying and I couldn't help her. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't even keep her safe in my own body.
The only thing that mattered to me in those moments was what those doctors were doing to save her. I heard murmurs between them, most likely not wanting to put me under more stress. One of them moved and I caught a glimpse of a small mask like mine over the shape of her face before they moved back. They were trying to help her figure out how to breathe on her own and I kept glancing between them and the clock obsessively.
"120," I muttered under my breath. Please, please! She's the only thing I've got left. Waterfalls of tears were flowing down my face, don't take her from me too. My heart broke more and more at each second that passed.
At 169 seconds, a cry came from her mouth and I couldn't have been more relieved. I knew there was a very high chance that there would be complications, but it calmed me to know that none of them were going to be life-threatening or shortening.
The doctors made sure her breathing was stable before weighing and measuring her. I couldn't take my eyes off of the spot where I knew she was. All I wanted was to hold her in my arms.
It was about an hour before they brought her over to me, but it seemed like a lifetime. I was just itching to have her in my arms. When she was given to me, I finally felt like I could relax. Tears continued to flow from my eyes, but out of relief this time.
It was almost like a dream; I couldn't believe she was there in my arms. I held her head steady on my chest and leaned down to gently place so many kisses all around her small face. "I can't believe you're here," I whispered to no one in particular.
"You're very brave." Max told me. I looked over to him to see an expression of awe on his face. He reached up to wipe the tears off of mine, then reached for my hand, "and I'm so extremely proud of you."
The smile that lit up my face couldn't have been gotten bigger than it was in that moment, "thank you." I looked back towards my baby girl and I fell so deeply in love with her, more so than anybody else. She had about half an inch of dark hair on her head and was sound asleep. Her small, round face was all scrunched up and her mouth was slightly open.
As I was admiring her, Max softly asked, "so? What's her name?"
I didn't look up towards him to give him my answer. I knew what it was from the second I had her in my arms, "Callie. Callie Rae."
"Callie Rae Matthews; welcome to the world." He said. It was such a cliché moment, but I loved every second of it.
The next few days before we were discharged were spent learning how to breastfeed Callie, getting her screening done, and trying to adjust.
After finding out that I was going to have Callie and deciding I was going to keep her, I had made sure to look up all the different ways that mothers connected with their newborns and bonded with them. Breastfeeding was one of the most common. From the moment I had finished reading up on how fulfilling it felt to feed your child from your own body, I knew that I wanted to do it. But from what I read, I knew for some people it was difficult.
I turned out to be one of those people who had a hard time with it. I had the worst time getting her to latch on and keeping her in a comfortable position. Callie's mouth had to be a certain way and her chin had to be pushed up against me and her nose had to be away from me so she could breathe. It was hard to find a way to position her comfortably so she could get fed properly. Every time I had trouble with it and I'd get so upset that I'd cry out of frustration at myself. It was so difficult on me because she needed to be fed every couple of hours and every time it would go the same way.
The nurses were really sweet and patient with me even when I got upset. They never once got frustrated or raised their voice; they were always calm and ready to help me when I needed it. They would tell me that it just takes some getting used to, and they were right. A few hours before we left for home, I finally got Callie to latch on without any trouble. I was so relieved that I could do it on my own, I finally felt like I was ready to leave.
Callie had failed the hearing part of her screening, but other than that the rest of the information I got about her health was fine and normal. The doctor said that the failing of the hearing screening didn't necessarily mean that she had hearing loss, but she needed to have a full hearing test before she was three months old. Since then I'd been mentally preparing myself for the news that she did have some hearing loss due to the complications when she was born.
The doctors had told me that the umbilical cord had been wrapped around Callie's neck when she was born. They didn't know at what point that it happened, but that her heartbeat had been very weak and she wasn't breathing on her own. That's why they monitored her so closely the first several hours after she was born. They warned me that even though nothing besides her hearing came up on her screening, it didn't mean there wouldn't be any other complications as she grew older. It was difficult to hear all that, knowing that she had only been a few minutes old at the time and already gone through something so traumatic and potentially life changing was so emotionally draining.
Other than that, it hadn't been too difficult adjusting to having Callie around. I was hardly getting any sleep before anyway, so I was used to it. If anything, the hardest part to adjust to was moving around. The things you don't see or hear about when you're younger about having a baby is that sometimes it literally stretches you out too far that things rip and stitches have to be put in. That is what happened to me. So getting around was quite uncomfortable. That was it though, I was doing just fine otherwise.
Outside of sleeping, I never took my eyes off of her. I was in such a state of admiration and disbelief that she was finally here and all mine. I didn't want her to leave my sight. She was the one thing I had been fighting for and now that I could see her and hold her, I was going to fight everything ten times harder.
I was signing the discharge paperwork while Max was pulling the car around. I quickly scribbled my signature anywhere they wanted because I was just ready to take Callie home. I could've been signing my life away, but I didn't care. I was eager to get out of there.
Max drove extremely carefully the entire way home, glancing at us in the rear view mirror every couple of minutes. It didn't bother me in the slightest, however I chose to tease him about it. Softly caressing Callie's cheek, I cooed at her, "I think Uncle Maxie's worried about you back here. But he should be keeping his eyes on the road now, shouldn't he?" I smirked. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him shake his head at me then focus his attention back on the road.
My heart swelled with joy when she opened her eyes as we pulled into the driveway, "you knew we were home, didn't you? How are you so smart already?!" Callie slept a lot. So whenever she opened her eyes, there was this warmth that flowed through my body at being able to see her beautiful blues. Just like mine.
Max helped me out of the car and I made my way around to grab Callie. I cradled her in my arms as I made my way into the house. Max following closely behind with the bag that we had brought with us to the hospital. I was taking my time making my way upstairs, mostly because I was still in pain, but also because it was so calming to walk around with her in my arms. I didn't ever want to put her down.
After making it upstairs, I sat down on the couch holding Callie in front of me, simply staring at her as she slept. I had taken dozens of pictures of her already, but needed to memorize every single detail I could about her. From her small, flat nose to the curve of her ears, I wanted to be able to always remember what she looked like when she was this small.
I wasn't shocked when she started fussing, it had been a couple hours since she was last fed, so I knew her tummy was ready for more. I began to get anxious about whether I could do it by myself or not, but I had no choice other than to take a deep breath and follow the steps as I was advised. I struggled at first to get in a comfortable position but I when I found it, I relaxed as Callie latched on without any trouble.
Most of my day continued like that: studying, feeding, and changing Callie. I didn't mind though. She was my world now. Max made sure I had everything I needed and that I ate and took care of myself throughout the day. I think he was worried that I'd get too lost or caught up in Callie to take care of myself.
I was walking around the house, rocking Callie as she slept when Max suggested I take a shower and relax, "no way, Maxie. This is the most relaxed I've been in such a long time."
"I know, Wren. I know. But you still need to take care of yourself and you need a shower. Clean yourself up and take a minute for you and breathe. I'll hold Callie and make sure she doesn't change in the slightest." Max held his arms out for her and I reluctantly handed her over.
It was the quickest shower I had ever taken in my life. I would've been proud of myself if I hadn't been so focused on getting Callie back in my arms. I walked back into the living room ready to trade places with Max, but upon watching him with her I decided a few more minutes wouldn't hurt.
Max was cradling Callie in one arm while the other was placed lightly on her chest and her hand was grasping onto his index finger. I watched on as a tear escaped from his eye, but he didn't bother to move to catch it. I made my way over, sat next to him, and swiped the tears away. "She's so precious," he said softly, not wanting to wake her. He looked up towards me, "I cannot wait to have my own."
I smiled at the thought, "you would make the most amazing dad."
He thanked me and handed her back over. A few minutes later, Max went to bed. I couldn't find it in me to get any sleep. Callie would only wake me up every couple hours anyway. Now that she was here, I didn't want to risk waking up terrified because of the nightmares anymore.
The next week was spent extremely similar to the first day at home. I followed the same routine every day. Kept an eye on Callie, fed her, changed her, and calmed her when she was fussy. We had an appointment with the pediatrician the third day we were home. While there I filled out a family history form to the best of my abilities; I didn't know anything about Xavier's family and, quite frankly, didn't want to find out. So I just left that part blank insisting that the "father" didn't want anything to do with me or her and I had no contact.
We talked about Callie's development and how she was doing in all aspects. I had mentioned her failing the hearing screening and the doctor recommended an audiologist to make an appointment with before she's one month old and told me what to be more aware of to see if her hearing was an issue. Then they did a full physical and answered all the questions I had for them.
By the time we got home, I was exhausted. I made sure Callie was fed, then lay down with her on the bed to finally get some rest. Even if it was only for a couple hours.
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Hey there!
Ya girl didn't feel like waiting to upload, so here it is! This chapter is 3,507 words. I hope you liked it!!
TM