A Front Porch Entrance: The Birth of my Belle Part 12

“There’s the head,” Cherie observed. I looked down; everything was moving too fast to distinguish a head. Katherine cried out again and gave a powerful push. The baby shot out. The torpid shaped little body looked strangely un-human. Katherine’s entire body sagged. Cherie lifted up the tiny little bundle and handed the baby to Katherine to be held. The baby whimpered.

“I’m going inside to get the precept cart,” Cherie announced. We were alone again on the porch. I stared down at my wife holding my second child in her arms. We didn’t even know the gender. The baby looked a pale blue and wet. I wondered if it was breathing. Cherie returned to cut the chord. “We don’t even know the gender,” I said. She said, “I already felt (the gender).” I asked, “Is it a boy?” She said, “Do you want to know?” My statement now seemed silly as we stood on the porch. I hesitated, “Sure.” Cherie examined the baby, “You have a girl.”

Another car pulled up. I saw Suz coming up the steps. Cherie began to cut the chord. Cherie turned to Suz who was now standing on the porch and ordered her inside to strip the bed. Katherine was to be moved inside. Cherie tried to move the baby, but the chord was caught in the blanket wrapped around the baby. She worked some more and then turned to hand me the baby. I stood there clutching my newborn daughter. I took a closer look. Her eyes were closed. Her entire body was blue and her little face was a dark purple. She was not moving and I again wondered if she was breathing. Everyone was now inside and I followed them in holding my precious cargo determined to give her back to Cherie so that she could work on the baby.

Katherine was climbing into the massive king bed assisted by Cherie as I entered the room. I stood there in the middle of the room holding the baby. Cherie came to me and took the baby saying that she needed to be warmed. I watched as she carried her over to the giant armoire which contained the resuscitation unit. At that point, I looked down and saw blood all over my white t-shirt from the severed umbilical chord.

Cherie flicked on the heat lamps and began to snake a small tube with a suction bulb on the end into the baby's mouth. I assumed that she was clearing any fluid out of the baby’s airway. Again, I wondered if she had been breathing. It had been several minutes since birth and I was concerned. Thoughts of close friends who have had trouble with their daughters nagged in the back of my mind. The baby began to cry and kick her legs. I breathed a sigh of relief and moved over to Katherine's side as she lay in the bed. “Way to go, babe! You did it! We have a little girl . . . a little girl . . .”