The bright circles hovered overhead. Large monitors sat waiting. A nurse stood, organizing metal instruments on a blue fabric covered table. Shivers, uncontrollable and strong, coursed through me as I climbed the step stool to take my place on the small operating table. My arms, splayed out on boards, make my delivery table a horizontal cross. My husband, holding tight to Cam and charged to document everything, is seated to my left. We are separated by physical boundaries in a room closing in on us as we wait. My heart slows, beats skip.
Soon… She will be born soon.
A cry began, muffled, garbled. Then a ferocious wail – and she is pulled free.
Welcomed, sweet little one, hears the camera click, sees the piercing lights, and feels the chills of sterilized air. My husband declares “RiAnne Elizabeth Denise” and Cinco officially slips away to become much more.