Chapter 3 - The Cold Room
The ceilingof the DeliverySuitefeltterrifyinglywhite.Everyfixturehadthe sharp,unsympatheticgleamof stainlesssteel,smellingstronglyof chlorhexidineandwarmedblankets.Two nurseswerealreadycuttingmy tightsawaywithtraumashears,theirfaceshidingbehindclearplasticsplashguards.
“Fetalheartrateone-ten,”onecalledout,pressingthe ultrasonicroounderhardagainstmy lowerbelly.The rhythmicwhoosh-whoosh-whooshwastooslow,stumblinglikeatiredrunner.“Decelsnoted.She’sin distress,Alvarez.”
“Let’sprepareforan emergencysection,”Alvarezsaid,his fingersslippingdeepintomy pelvisfor the exam.He cursedsoftlyunderhis breath.“No time.She’sfullydilated.Completeeffacement.The headis at plus-two.Maggie,lookat me.”
I pulledmy chinup.My wholeframefeltwrackedby tremors;my teethclickedtogetherwithsuchviolencethe nursehadto slipa rubbergauzebetweenthem.“I’mhere,”I whispered.
“You’renotgettingan epidural.There’sno timeto placethe line.Thisbabyhaswrappedthe cordor she’spinchedagainstthe pelvicbrim.Youhaveto pushherout onthe nextwave,or I amtakingherout withthe knife.Do youhearme?”
I nodded.I didn'tthinkaboutDaniel.I didn'tthinkaboutthe manor,the diningtable,the ringlyingbesidethe pie,or the girlwiththe orchidfingerswhowantedmy crownmolding.I narrowedthe entirescopeof the universeto the spacethreeincheswidebetweenmy pelvicbones.
The painreturned,nota wave,buta continentcrashinginto a coastline.
“Push!”
I pulledmy chinintomy sternum,grabbedthe metalhand-grips,andpushedwiththe ancient,ungovernabledriveof awomanwhoknowsshe is fightingfor a survivorthat Danielcouldneverunderstand.The worldturnedcrimsonaroundthe edgesof my vision.The monitorsshrieked.The nurses’handswerewarm,heavyironsacrossmy shins.
“Headis out!Rest,Maggie,rest—don’tpush!”
A breath.Onesearing,torturousinhalationof sterileoxygen.
“Shoulders!Now,pushagain!”
Witha long,tearingcrythat draggedfromthe pit of my stomach,I emptiedmyself.Therewasasudden,shockingreleaseof pressure,followedby the wet,slipperyslapof fleshagainstglovedhands.
Thensilence.
The roomwentdead.No cry.Onlythe humof the suctionmachineandthe softshuck-shuckof the glovedfingersworkingfeverishlyat the warmerbehindmy head.
“Alvarez?”I whispered.The tremblinghadtakenmy chin.“Alvarez,please.”
“Workingonher,Maggie.Giveusaminute.Meconiumpresent.Clearingthe airway.”
Thirtysecondsfeltlikethirtyyearsspentwanderingin a winterswamp.I watchedthe reflectionin the convexmirroron the wall:threegreen-cladfiguressurroundingaflesh-coloredformno largerthana rabbit,littlepurplishfeetcurledtight,a tinychestnotmoving.Thencamea thincat-likewhimper.
Thenanothersharp,raspingyelp.
Thentheroar—thin,furious,indignant—of a seven-week-earlyhumanbeingdemandinghertitletothe air.
“Wehavecrying,”the pediatricnurseannounced,her voiceliftingwithsudden,unbearabletriumph.“Apgarissix,goingto eight.She’sfout pounds,twoounces.She’sa scrapper,Maggie.”
Theywrappedherin threelayersof foil-linedflannelandbroughtthe bundledfacecloseto my cheekbeforethe transportincubatorarrived.Shewasred,greasywithvernix,her eyespinchedshutagainstthe harshlights,buthersmallfistwashittingthe aircountlessmilesperhour.I pressedmy split,bloodylipto the hotcurveof herforehead.
“Hernameis Clara,”I whisperedinto the flannel.“ClaraHollis.NotDaniel’sname.Harold’smother’sname.”
“Clara,”the nurserepeated,jottingit on the plasticident-bandaroundthe tiny,translucentankle.“She’sgoingstraightto the NICU,Maggie.Sheneedsseventy-twohoursof CPAPto keeptheselungsexpanded.Yourest.Youdidit.”
Theywheeledthe incubatorout the doubledoors.Throughtherectangularwindow,foran instant,I sawthe blurrinessof the hallway.
Danielwasthere.
May you like
He wasleaningagainstthe nursingstationcounter,wavinga goldpenat a securitysupervisorwhoheldbothhandsupin a pacifyinggesture.Behindhim,seatedononeof the orangevinylhallwaychairs,washis mother.Rosemaryhadn'twaitedforDaniel’scar;shehadsomehowcalleda cab.Her oldcoatwasbuttonedcrookedly,her hairwildfromthe rain,butshewaseatinga smallrollshe musthavebroughtfromthe Thanksgivingtable,staringat herdaughter-in-law'sdoorwiththe stony,forbiddingdignityof a marblemonument.
I closedmy eyes.The warmblanketspulledovermy chestsmelledof bleach.My leftfourthfingerachedwherethe platinumhadbeenwrenchedaway.I hadneverfeltsocompletelyempty,yetsocleanly,irrevocablysettled.
