Everything Happens For a Reason...Straight Up

Since I did not just give birth to one child, I feel I should share the birth of my second miracle magic baby. Zachary. Zachary David. His birth was just as eventful.

I think I am just an "eventful" person. I don't think I can do anything without a twist.

Back in 1989 I broke my tailbone. At work. Our safe was in the back room. It was an ornery old safe. Never opened on the first try. That day was no different. So I had the bright idea to sit down. I pulled up a roll up chair, on the tile floor. Went to scoot it up , closer to the safe, the chair came back out from under me. And the rest is without need of an actual description.

Now, although you may think that is the funny part, and I concede that it was, it was not THE funny part. I didn't know at first that I have broken my tail bone. I just know it hurts, like crazy hurts. At the end of the day, I can barely walk. I'm leaving to go home, step off the curb, and go down. I drove myself to the hospital. Now, you have NO idea how much attention a broken tail bone receives. It is UNREAL what an attraction I became. Like a circus act. They wheel me to X-Ray. People, professional people, walking by snickering, whispering.

Finally, I'm in a cubical. One of those that separates you and the other unfortunate patient. With a curtain. The only privacy is if the wind does not blow. Other than that, your world IS their world. The doctor on duty comes in, tells me what the X-Rays have determined. It was indeed broke, not much to be done for that. A lot of lying around, and not on my backside. He tells me I can get dressed and leaves out.

It's quiet. Very quiet. Mainly, because I am trying to decide how in the heck I'm going to get back off of that bed alone. All of a sudden, I hear this sweet old voice coming from around the curtain. "Honey, did I hear that doctor say, you broke your tail bone"? I get very still, but breathe deep, because I am ALWAYS respectful of sweet old voices, and said "yes ma'am." And it begins. She began to tell me her story.

She says she is 85 years old. When she was 16 years old, she was pushing her baby sister in a swing. Someone called her name, she looked back, and before she could turn back around, the swing and all it's force hit her and pushed her down. Hard. She broke her tail bone. Yes, indeed. My 85 year old, sweet stranger/neighbor, on the other side of the curtain, ALSO broke HER tail bone.

Now you tell me. Really. Honestly. How many people have you ever known to break their tail bone? And what are the chances, that I would break mine, and get put next to another person, and 85 year old sweet person, that broke hers as well. And had a story. So, when I say, I am an "eventful" person. I just dang well am. Don't question it.

So, now that I have gone all the way around the world, let me tell you the first story. The one that started with the birth of my second miracle magic baby. Zachary. My second child was also anxious to see the world. Now that I am older, I have often wondered if it had something to do with me? Both of my children trying to  "escape" so early. My Zachary tried to join all of us about four months too early. And he was then, as he is now, not one to be told no.

I was about five months pregnant, when I began to have the most horrible pains. Pains that felt very closely related to labor pains. But there was no way they could be labor pains. Something was so terribly wrong. Someone from work drove me to the hospital. The pain was so intense, I could not even sit up. I get there, they admit me, and strap me down. Immediately the hook-ups begin. I am in full blown labor. My mother arrives and she is standing next to me. The whole time. Though I confess, the first hour or so was a blur. They are sticking me here, sticking me there. Trying to get the labor pains stopped. It is no where near time for this baby to be born. He is not fully developed, he is not ready. Well, Zachary thought he was ready. And he was not being deterred, one little bit.  Now, I could call him Zachary, because at this point, Josh and I had already named him. I knew I was having a boy, he knew he was going to be a brother and that was the name we chose.

We are three hours into this process. Nothing is working. I can see the worried looks on the faces that surround me. Including my mother. A very young vampire tech comes in. Now, I am not a good stick. People who are not "good sticks" know what this term means. My veins are deep and they roll. Rarely does anyone get me on the first try. I have been stuck as many as five or sick times before they strike gold. I knew this, I knew this alone was about to unfold as a drama. My mother did not. I had told her before. But you really just can't relate, until you see it. See it happening to your daughter or someone you love.

Now, all this time, all of these other things are going on and my mother is standing calmly at my side. Because that is my mother. She is a rock. My mother is from Phenix City, Alabama. She is an original Steel Magnolia. I remember few times in my life that she even raised her voice. This day did not change that.

The young little tech began. She was feeling, rubbing, trying to find something to connect to. She could not. She tried the other arm. Same process, only this time, she thinks she has..found a vein. She begins to plunge the needle in..wiggles it around..digs around. Finds nothing. She repeats this process and is on her third try. My sweet, calm mother, gently placed her hand on the young girls arm, and said with her sweet Alabama drawl,  "Honey, you will not stick her again. You are going to need to go find someone else. Someone else who knows what they are doing..please." She gently released the girls arm, looked at me, and just as calmly as if she was saying what a pretty day it was outside, she said "It's going to be alright honey, she's going to get someone else now".

It took a full seven hours that day to get the labor stopped. But they did. It was like a miracle within itself. I was given pills. Pills that I must take every day until the scheduled birth. Whew, problem solved.

Not quite. In my 7th month of pregnancy, they discover, through a sonogram, that Zachary has not turned. He is standing straight up. This is not good. Mid way through my 7th month, my doctor's decide, he must be turned. Manually. Now, lest you have never known anyone who had this done, let me tell you how that works. Its like...reaching your hand as deep into your body as you can, grabbing ahold of your kidney, and moving it to the other side of your body. Yes. That's right. That JUST about describes it. Try it. Right now. Stop reading this and try it. Are you done? Breathe deep, it's alright, I knew you couldn't do it.

Well, to manually turn a baby, this is what they do. They again, hook you up to all kinds of monitors, and sonogram machines. So they can know, and see, if your baby goes into DISTRESS while they are doing this..manually.  Now, that I am older, again, I should have known, when they used the word DISTRESS in their explanation during the "hook-up", I should have been more alarmed. Alarmed enough to say not no, but HELL NO.

So, they have me hooked up, and all of a sudden, all of these children in white suits start piling up in my room. Against the back wall. They are students. One of the doctor's about to perform this deal asks me do I mind. Well, I dang well did, but I was nice and said, of course not. Well,  had I known what was about to happen, I would have allowed NO witnesses to this horror show. One doctor stood on one side, one on the other, one took a knee, one took a shoulder. Now, when I say this, I hope you understand. I am not talking about MY knee and MY shoulder. Oh no..my baby. They were about to dig into my body, take his limbs, use them for leverage, and TURN him around. INSIDE of my body. I thought I was going to come apart..at the seams. Literally. I was screaming. I was again, using words neither Jesus nor my sweet, southern Alabama, Mother would have been proud of.

They tried three different times. Finally, they come to their senses, and decide, this is just not working. No kidding folks. The children in white coats on the back wall are all now pale and sweating. They want out. They are praying to be dismissed. Class is over.

My surgery, my second birth is scheduled. For March 6th, 1995. Zachary is still standing, he is not moving. It has been settled, a C-Section is going to be required. That day is here, we are ready. And as was suggested after my first birth, a saddle block is performed. They have injected my spine with the stuff they tell you may paralyze you if you move during the process. They insist you sign a paper, that states, it is not their fault, if you move and paralyze yourself during this process. Right before they inject you, as you are lying on your side the best you can, with a barrel on your belly. You must sign this paper. You are about to give birth, what are you going to say..NO??!!!

Zachary was born. I could hear whispers off to the side. He's not breathing, they are saying. I don't hear crying or screaming. I'm trying to come off of the table. My legs are not cooperating. They are dead to me. Suddenly, I hear it. My heart is beating so fast, I think it is going to explode. But I hear my baby scream and I hear the whispers of relief across the room. It all settles down, and I am asking. What was going on? Why was he not breathing? They tell me, the cord, the umbilical cord, was wrapped around his neck and under his left arm, three times.

There was a reason my baby was standing up, there was a reason he would not turn. I have told and will always tell, anyone I  know who is pregnant, that may have this problem, my story. Leave it alone. There is a reason for everything. I believe there was just enough slack in that cord, that Zachary was able to continue to live on the inside, standing up. Had they continued to try and turn him, with the cord twisted as it was, they may have very well choked him to death. I believe that with all my heart.

Everything happens for a reason. Zachary is irrefutably the second hero in my life. The good Lord knew, I would never make it when my Josh grew up and left home. I would need another child. The timing between the two births, is almost exactly nine years. Zachary is my laughter and my sunshine, on bad, rainy days. My second miracle magic baby came into this world standing straight up. And he has not..stopped...yet.

copyright © 2011 Michelle Mount Mims