I still have a little catching up to do to save prosperity. This one tells of how Max and Manu made it into the world via a sharp knife, a slick doctor, and a spinal tapped, ultra frightened girl.


Do Elephants howl?
Do Elephants howl?

Here at the hospital while on bed rest, Pierre and I press our ears against the walls — listening to the women in the other rooms as they go into labor and eventually give birth. We’re stiff with rapture, like kids seeing a full-frontal naked person for the first time, or a game show contestant freaking in anticipation over whats behind door #3. We are experiencing our own lives, our own pasts through the women. It’s how we all entered this world. Through the greatest canal… The grandest right-of-passage of all.

Portal from another World
Portal from another World

The primal, the very animal howl from the women is unlike any call or cry I have ever heard, and from the deepest, most primal space it triggers in me that ancestral attachment. It fails to temp me into a drug-free birth however — the vicarious ease drop is enough. It’s a beautiful sound.

I’ve loved my 18 days on bed rest and me & the twins are super at 27 1/2 weeks. The doctors are talking about releasing me this weekend, saying they see no reason why I cant spend the remainder of my pregnancy at home.

Pius the teenage pope
Pius the teenage pope

The problem is, I dont want to go!
Here, my pals come visit me, Pierre comes each and every night to visit with Pius, my Whippet. Yes, CPMC even allows your dog to come and stay with you while you’re locked up. I coax Pius in bed with me, but Pierre ends that immediately. “Dont take advantage of a hospital letting your dog in by letting him climb in the sheets with you”. No fun those French.

Other reasons I like it here: I dont have to do remedial labor like cooking or cleaning, and I like having people from all backgrounds of education, ethnicity and experience to talk to, and most of all, I like being cared for by people here because in the real world, it’s difficult for me to ask others for help. Here, it’s safe. So, a few days before I am set to leave for home, I get my wish to stay.

The following morning I have my first contraction, and within 2 hours it is all over, or rather, it all is just beginning…

I have my first contraction at 7:30am, then at 8:30 then 9:00, then every 20, 15, 10 minutes. The nurses, 2 doctors and the pre-term delivery team run around my bedside in cool pandemonium.

Erma Vep says,
Erma Vep says,”Give me drugs!”

The contractions send me to the roof. “What the hell was that!?” I shriek as they grow in pain.
A pain much more severe than when I fell over a cliff on my motorcycle, than when I hit a fence with my face while jumping horses, more so than when I intentionally lit my skin with red hot metal. None of these come close to the pain of a contraction. I’ve heard men tell that the passing of boulder size gall stones through their eurethra comes close. So they say…

I yell to everyone, that women who choose to go through hours of labor are crazy! One nurse humorously agrees with me. I’ve never felt anything like it. I grab the bedpost, bury my head and wail. Shit. Budda. Breathe. Finally Paulette, a favorite nurse has me by the shoulders saying firmly, “Look at me. Breathe. You’re okay. You are going to deliver 2 beautiful children. We will take care of you. I’m here for you, look at my face.”
That was it. A connection to someone and I broke down crying.

Meanwhile the doctor is trying to get me undressed. She grabs me, forces my clothing off, demanding I cooperate. Her grounded firmness tempers me, an animal under duress being commanded by it’s owner.

At 9:50am I’m on the gurney, rushing to the delivery room. When there I’m told my spinal tap will hurt alot. They plunge it in, and I say, “Is that it?” After them contractions nothing was painful.

Dr Huh, my OBY and woman delivering my twins, said to me before she cut my abdomen, “Its going to feel like I am sitting a heavy bag on your stomach, and that I am rooting around in it for something. I’ll talk you through it. Try and relax.”

It did feel just like that, and I imagined them peeling back all the muscle, searching for Baby A, then Baby B. Pulling them out through a tiny incision and handing them over to the special group of strangers in the corner in blue sterile suits. I must have been in shock. It all went so well. I knew the kiddos had left me. They were being attended to in the corner by the doctors. I could feel Dr Huh putting me back together and I asked at the end to watch her sew me up and damn, she let me! How cool is that? There was so much blood, and I was super bloated like that cat I found washed up on the beach a few years back.

The twins had flown the nest. I could hear their cries off to one side, so faint, so small as they took them off to the ER. No romantic interlude for us, no insta-bonding, no eye candy reward in my arms. Just their cries disappearing through the corridor.

A Spork
A Spork

I was able to see each one for a split second before they were rushed to the NICU (Neo-natal intens. care unit) but I felt nothing. I was numb. Where was Pierre? What just happened?? Actually, we’d agreed Pierre wouldn’t be in the room since he faints at blood. Also, I would have totally fed off his nervous anticipation and so I was glad to be alone with the experience.

Afterwards though, he was the only one I wanted to see! He was outside and we rested in a waiting area until the doctor came to take us to see our new family. Max and Emmanuelle. They were like tiny baby birds lying in an incubation nest. Breathing 1000 times per second, absolutely no fat on their bodies under a glaring bright yellow lamp.

I didnt think about if they’d live or not, or complications. We were just all together in the room, my family, and for that moment it’s all that mattered.

A most perfect pair
What gives life?

You’ll never be alone
You’ll never be alone


Tags: | |