You may think that I am being a little bit dramatic here but actually the opposite is true.
Let me explain.
A little more than 2 years ago I was Laboring away on that arduous task of Delivery that all of us are a result of in one way or another. Although easier than my first delivery, little Griffin still managed to enter the world with a bit of excitement and theatricality. He continues to enter and exit a room the same way. Sigh. I am getting off subject…
Back to that day in March 2008.
My sweet Griffin came out blue and with his cord wrapped around his neck. The team in the hospital was great. From my point of view, there was a flurry of activity- but all I really remember is that there was no cry and he hadn’t been handed right to me as D had been when she was born. Instead, he was lying on a table with a bunch of people searching for and passing items back and forth. A NICU team had been called down. And there was still no cry. I have no idea how long it was. It could have been mere seconds or perhaps minutes. It felt like forever. My husband started to made a move toward the table because it wasn’t going fast enough. He was going to jump in. It was then I felt a real pang of fear. I was taking my cues from him and seeing him worried was what made the moment most scary. But… At the head of that table holding my little blue son was someone who authoritatively put their hand up and signaled my husband to back down. She took control of the situation, calmly intubating little Griffin and getting the team to work together efficiently.
Soon after came the little cry.
Then the bigger cry.
Then my cry.
If memory serves there was a bit of crying from Griffin those first few months. You would never know it now looking at him now but he didn’t allow us a full night’s sleep for almost 2 years. Likely just to make up for not crying during those first moments of life.
In the first few months, along with some other family medical dramas, a move to a different state and managing 2 little ones, the memory of those first few minutes of Griffin’s arrival sort of faded from my consciousness.
Flash forward to a day in July 2010.
I am photographing a lovely family with a 9 month old that I knew from the days of fraternizing with the UMass Medical people. And as I am driving home from my session, I realize this is the woman that saved my sons life by taking quiet calm control of a situation and doing her job with efficiency and grace. It is hard to explain how I separated my memory of K from that NICU fellow in the room… but I think I can blame the epidural and lack of sleep during the next 2 years.
Anyhow. K, I thank you for what you did that day and what you do every day. I am sure countless families count you among their blessings. And so would my son, if I could only get him off the garage…*

*just kidding… he is only just in the plotting stages of actually getting up there- he hasn’t quite figured it out yet. Good thing we have an ER doc in the neighborhood, just in case.

This entry was posted on Monday, August 2nd, 2010 at 3:39 pm and is filed under Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.