Hallelujah by Rufus Wainwright on Grooveshark

It was the night before Halloween and William and I were downstairs watching the Red Wings game when we heard Wyatt yell from upstairs. I went up and peeked into his room and saw that he was genuinely upset, assuming that he had a nightmare I scooped him up and took him into my room and put him in bed under the covers. I laid down beside him with my Snoogle pregnancy pillow and started to rub his back. He babbled in the sweetest, softest, little voice and I remember really appreciating that special moment between the two of us – one of the last special moments we’d have together before Levi was born.

After five minutes of babbles and whispers I felt a gush.. down there. I yelled down to William that my water had broke and tried to make it to the bathroom as fast as possible. My water had only partially broke when I had Wyatt so I really had no idea how MUCH “water” there was to break. But holy cow – it was a lot. William kept telling me it was time to go – and I kept telling him that I couldn’t because the water was still coming!

Eventually, I changed my clothes (only to have them get soaked in 5 seconds), grabbed my purse, and headed out the door with William and Wyatt. It was almost midnight and we were loading into the car when I finally realized that we’d be having a Halloween baby.

I was excited that Levi was coming but I was also terrified because I knew that the plan was to have  a c-section to avoid complications. It’s all I could think about on the drive to my father-in-laws house. We pulled up and dropped off Wyatt and I immediately became emotional. It was hard to think about being away from him for the night – because I had been with him every night since he was born. I knew things were changing and it was happening too fast for me to handle. And in what felt like a mere moment we were driving away from Wyatt and on our way to the hospital.

My husband dropped me off at the Emergency Room entrance while he parked the car and a man (named James) met me at the door with a wheelchair. I guess when you see a woman that pregnant come into the ER after midnight you just assume she is in labor. I remember the man being very nice as he ran/walked me in the wheelchair down to labor and delivery. I remember telling him that he didn’t have to go so fast and that I wasn’t in pain – so he slowed down and we continued to talk – the end of the conversation was him telling William and I that it was his birthday too.

We got to labor and delivery, checked in and waited for about 15 minutes before a nurse finally came to take us to our room. Once we got there another nurse came to put in my IV. This nurse was the only person I semi-yelled at that night. She kept poking me with that darn needle, once putting it through my vein, and it took her about 4 or 5 tries (with lots of wiggling) before she finally got my IV in. At some point during all of this I thought she said “Oh, it’s not so bad,” in which I responded “Oh, yeah! Can you feel it?!” William had later told me that she was actually giving me some kind of compliment but I misheard her.

After the IV was in, the doctor at the ER came in and introduced himself – we talked about the c-section and he checked to see where I was in labor. I wasn’t dilated much – he said maybe 1cm and I wasn’t having major contractions. He told me within 45 minutes they’d be taking me back to the operating room and prepping me for surgery. It all felt so fast. He also told me that they had tried, but no one could get a hold of my doctor, so he would be the one doing the surgery along with another doctor. The other (female) doctor came in and introduced herself just a few minutes later – she went over some of the details of the surgery.

Before we knew it they were coming to get me for surgery. They gave William an outfit to put over his clothes and we were on our way. They wheeled me down the hallway and I remember telling everyone how nervous I was. In fact, I’m pretty sure I told each individual person that I met that night how nervous I was. Once we got to the operating room they made William stay outside until I was prepped and ready to go. He bent down and kissed me and smiled – I felt like crying.

The room was white and very bright. There were lights everywhere, a bed that looked more like a table in the middle, and a few tables on the right had side with various silver tools laid out over blue cloths. They wheeled my bed right up beside the table in the center of the room and helped me transition to sit on the table. Soon the bed was gone and I was being asked to sit with my legs hanging over the side of the table so I could get my spinal tap. A nurse came and stood in front of me, holding my hands. Throughout the whole thing I kept asking her if it was over. They had numbed the area but I could still feel an intense amount of pressure in my spine, and I could feel him pushing the needle further and further into my back as I hunched over squeezing this poor woman’s hands. I later apologized to her for the squeezing.

As soon as the spinal tap was in I was told to lay down immediately. Within a few seconds my whole lower half was completely numb and I was fumbling to lay down. Everything from under my breasts to the tip of my toes was nonexistent to me. It was such a strange feeling. I must have asked for William 10 times before he finally was brought in. But once I saw him, and he was holding my hand I was instantly put at ease. The spinal tap made me really nauseous – really, really, nauseous. But soon they were telling us it was time to start and the nausea got replaced with excitement/fear. I remember feeling pressure on my stomach, lots of pressure, but no pain. Within a few minutes they told me that they were about to bring the baby out and a minute later we heard Levi’s small voice for the first time. William looked as they brought him back to check him out and clean him up a bit. I’m not sure how long it was before I actually saw him – but it felt like forever.

I was lying on the table in the middle of the bright white room and all I wanted to do was see my baby. They were in the process of stitching and stapling up the three layers that were just cut through and it still felt like someone was sitting on my stomach. I listened to the nurses talk about Levi and a pediatrician came over to tell William and I that the baby looked great! William caught glimpses of Levi as they walked past with him and he kept telling me how adorable he was. Then they said they were going to weigh him and William went to snap a photo for me. Yup, the first time that I saw Levi was on my husbands telephone screen.

Finally, they brought him over and I was able to see his sweet face. He was absolutely stunning – and looked SO much like Wyatt when he was first born. I knew they’d look a little alike because they were brothers but HOLY COW they really looked alike. I kissed his little head as William held him with a proud expression melted across his face. It was a good moment, one that I’ll always remember.

And it’s amazing to think that this little being – our small Levi – had made it.
That the doctors who told us he wouldn’t make it were wrong.
That our sadness and my depression from months earlier –
had disappeared and we were now basking in the light of this blessed sweet baby.

And now when I see him,
when I hold him,
I feel complete.
Like I was always meant to have him and he was always meant to be with us.
We are so incredibly lucky and I will never, ever, forget that.