“We’ll have to put you to sleep.”
I remember the mask going over my face, and then nothing.
I heard the words “fetal distress” and “slowed heartbeat”. No time to wait, they said. No time to wait.
It was Christmas Eve. An epidural wasn’t going to be enough. I already had two epidurals, and I hadn’t planned on a single one, but what do they say about our best-laid plans?
I hear the words “emergency C-section” and “general anesthesia”. Many people dressed in scrubs surrounded me and shuffled around the room. As I think back, I hear the popping of gloves snapping snugly over hands, and the clink of metal.
My eyes follow the flurry of movement across the room. Sounds are muffled. “Do you have any questions?”
I could barely speak. I don’t know what to ask. Besides, I was afraid of the answers.
“Don’t be afraid.”
How, exactly, do I breathe now?
Read the rest of my post published today at The Mudroom.