6.02.2011

The Story of a Birth. 5, and final.

Once it begins, the pushing lasts for about an hour. Jon stands on Erin's right, the grandmothers-to-be on her left. I am down at her legs, front and center with camera around my neck. Erin pushes as instructed by a nurse with a blond bob and a positive attitude. She coaches Erin through, counts out each push -- each mountain she climbs -- and tells her when to relax. In between, Erin cracks jokes and the mood in the room is remarkably light. Excitement is building; the is air electric and fuzzy. It's late morning and the world is awake and it's time. There are a total of 13 people in the room. Midwife, doctor, nurses, nursing students who are there to observe their first delivery. I know there is music, but I am not conscious of it.

I watch only the opening, mesmerized as something takes shape. The nurse's hands work to help the baby out. Push. That's it. You're doing great. Push. There is a sliver of something solid and dark. Push. They're holding Erin's legs up and she throws every ounce of strength she has against the pressure, strength and power she has been cultivating and storing up her entire life for this exact moment. Push. The head appears and I see her smashed red face and I float up out of my body and hover there above it all, suspended in disbelief.

Time stands still and yet moves faster than seems possible. In an instant this baby emerges and is there among us, a living human being with breath and a voice. A voice we all hear and recognize as a sound we weren't sure would ever exist. A voice that will one day become defined and intentional. That will be loud and carry love and hate and every kind of emotion through the air and into the world.

The baby is outside of her, and Erin lets out a wail, a great crying release. She sobs freely and throws herself back onto the bed. Jon cuts the umbilical cord but I don't see it. I see only the blood that splatters on his glasses, face and neck. The baby is carried to the warmer and fiddled with. Jon goes to Erin then goes to the baby then goes to Erin. He is shaking and has no control over his face. Erin laughs when she sees the blood all over him, and asks that he not get any on her pillow. He doesn't even seem to hear her and just burrows into her neck with some desperation. I have never seen him such a wreck. Standing there next to his wife, he removes his glasses and wipes them clean on his shirt, and it is an image I don't think I will ever forget.

Oh, and the name. Erin asks if we want to hear it. "Alice Aurelia," we hear her say. Two perfect little words we've been waiting an eternity for.

Alice Aurelia.

Alice Aurelia.

Alice Aurelia.

She is here. And now, like magic, we all know a new kind of love.

~

Photos by Erin Senge at Alice's 1st birthday party. See more here.

8 comments:

  1. Loved reading this, Shannon! What a gift for your sister. And that is a darn cute niece you have!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Yep, there are definitely a build-up of tears right now but trying to hold them in because I am at work and my co-worker will think I'm crazy!

    Amazing, Shannon - truly. You have a gift for words and descriptions and suspense, and with those things you convey so much heart. Erin is lucky to have a sister with such a keen memory and voice.

    This was an incredibly engaging series to read. Thank you for sharing it with us!

    ReplyDelete
  3. I don't know if I'm more emotional today, but I'm near tears. If I was alone in my room I'd be crying. Yet, I'm at work so I'm keeping it together.

    Absolutely beautiful. The whole thing. So glad you shared with us.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Awe, Shannon...What a loving gift you have written. It's so beautiful and touching. Love you, Kathy

    ReplyDelete
  5. Thank you to all who have read the story in its entirety or in pieces. I am truly so touched by all your kind words! A birth is no easy thing to describe, so I hope I was able to come close. Love you, lovely readers.

    ReplyDelete
  6. It still makes me tear up a little. Thank you for your support that day, and always. I couldn't have done it without you there.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Shannon! This was so beautiful... you've had me tuned in for days. You truly have a way with words. I am a pregnant emotional mess sitting on my couch reading this haha.

    ReplyDelete
  8. i sure wish you had been there to write my first birth down. :-)

    ReplyDelete