The Breath of Life

   "I c-c-c-can't stop shaking." "Oh, that is normal," he said as he looked down at me before he peered back over the blue medical sheet in front of my face. I couldn't. I just couldn't stop the incessant shaking. The moment of welcoming my son had played out in my head everyday for the last 10 months, and I promise, this was NOT it.

  We arrived 30 hours prior, and my utopistic idea of induction had not come true. 

  "There are only a few reasons we would revert to a cesarean section... 1. He is under stress. 2. I am under stress. 3. He isn't progressing after some time, but chances are we won't get there." 

  So, after 22 hours of quite intense labor, I found myself being prepped for a c-section. I'll be the first to admit, my words of, "We will do what we have to do to have a healthy baby," seemed so far gone now. I wasn't sure emotionally how I had gotten this far, or even how I would get further.

  "We are gonna do the c-section." It was one of many first lines, on the phone, I had with mother since 530 PM the previous evening. "Okay, baby." And once she called me her baby...the subtle tear rolled down my eye. I just wanted to be a baby again. I didn't want to do this. I was so tired. My body was done. "It will be over soon when you do the c-section, and you will get to hold your precious son." Her tears dried mine quite quickly. Had to put on the front, although she knew it was just that, that I was okay.

  And now, I held my arms out to my side, one grasping white boy's hand and the other gripping as hard as possible to my Memento Mori rosary. How odd in that moment...not a one person in the room was concerned for the outcome of what was about to take place, but I had a searing feeling of ending. But what was ending? I mean...my non-parenthood, yes. But..my life? No. Not yet. Couldn't be. I had a son to raise.

  Memento Mori: remember death. Baby Owen's rosary from a dear friend. But, why would we desire, while welcoming the most precious gift of life, to remember our death. Because we are life and we all die. Morbid much, Aly? No. Hopeful. 

  The beads rattled as my teeth chattered. I was shaking so violently, I was convinced I would shake off the table. My life had 1 meaning in that moment: get through this...bring Owen into the world. "Come on, Aly, you have to do this. For your son." And as the lights blinded me, some random song blared in the background, and the pressure beyond the blue veil surmounted anything I had experienced, I started to chatter the only words I could think, "Eternal Father, I offer You the body and the blood, soul and divinity..." I sang the parts of the Divine mercy Chaplet that came to mind. 

  "He's out!" I heard no scream. I heard no crying. I received short glances from the anesthesiologist as he was explaining what was going on. 

  "For the sake of his sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world." I was singing as loud as my chatter would allow and most certainly off key. But, it was my only comfort. "What was going on? Why wasn't he crying? Was everything ok?" 

  "He looked quite stunned when they took him out and they are sucking the fluid out of his lungs and nose," the doctor said as he glanced down and back up." 

  I still heard nothing...blank nothing. Pressure. Burnt flesh..." She is bleeding a lot, but she will be okay. Get her the meds. Press and count. 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5. I have no idea what they were counting. They were looking for something in my stomach. I think? 

  Still nothing. Blank nothing. I couldn't think of the last stanza. What was the last stanza? I rubbed the rosary as fiercely as I could. I started over. No, I had to remember the last stanza. I wasn't going to end here. I had to carry on. For my son...

WAILING!! CRYING!! My son...was ok. "Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, have mercy on us and on the whole world." 

  All was ok. All was well...

  And now, I lay here propped up with him suckling on my breast, tired beyond belief, his dad fast asleep, and I lift his head to smell his breath. The breath of life. The moment before anything has passed through his lips, and I am grateful...and I start to sing to him, "Eternal Father, I offer you, the body and the blood..."

  Today...God granted us our most precious gift. Owen Hayes Garner. Born at 1034 PM, 8.6lb, 19 3/4" and just perfect. Welcome son. Through all of it...you brought me through. You brought us through. All of us. You brought 2020 into perfect perspective. And I love you. So very much.