Michael had stayed at my apartment that night, so we got in the car and met the family over at the hospital. Sarah had progressed well, but wasn't really "there" yet, so they decided to give her an epidural for the pain. The doctors assured us that it would most likely slow down her labor, so Mom, Dad, Michael and I went back to Sarah and Andy's apartment to have lunch (reubens, since it was the day after St. Patrick's Day), and would wait for the call to come back.
Well, it turns out that the epidural had the opposite effect than expected, because Sarah dilated to something around 8 within about a 1/2 hour. We all frantically and excitedly packed up the reubens, then jumped in the van to go back to the hospital (I specifically remember my mom passing all kinds of cars on the way, and I told her "Mom! This isn't a 2-lane road!" She promptly replied, "It is now!"). We got to the hospital and everyone was getting ready to go. The nurses tried to shoo me out of the room, saying only my mom and Andy could stay, to which Sarah said "She stays, too!" Don't mess with a lady in labor!
After that point, everything just went fast. I remember standing in the back of the room taking pictures, feeling very excited to be watching such a miracle. At one point, however, the doctor realized that the baby's umbilical cord was wrapped around it's neck (we didn't know she was a girl yet), so she really encouraged Sarah to push hard to get the baby out (things had already gone so fast that the doctor didn't even have time to fully prepare herself to "catch," saying "well, I guess I've done this before without a chair..." Reassuring...). That's when I remember my mom reaching over to me and lightly pushing the camera down. It only took two pushes to get the baby out, at which point we heard "It's a girl!" Momentarily, it was really really exciting! However, not long after that, you could see the looks on people's faces. The doctor laid Elizabeth on Sarah's tummy, and Sarah said, "what's wrong with her face?" That's when more and more people started to come into the room, and Mom and I were pushed farther and farther back into the corner of the room. None of us were sure of what exactly was happening, except that it wasn't normal. You could tell the doctor and nurses knew what was up. There were just so many people in that tiny room, tending to this tiny little baby. But by that point, we all knew, too. Nobody said anything, but we all just knew. This little baby has Down Syndrome. My mom and I were squeezing eachother's hands, and tears started flowing, because it was such a shock, but at the same time there were 5 bajillion other emotions going through everyone's heads. I remember getting the "go ahead" to go over to the warmer and see her, and... sigh. She was so traumatized from her fast birth that she just looked so swollen. And huge! Remember, Elizabeth was almost 9 lbs, with a FULL head of dark brown hair, so looking at her for the first time elicited a reaction I just never expected to have. I stood there looking down at this baby thinking, "we will love her no matter what," trying to eek out a reassuring smile to Sarah out of the tears that were flowing down my cheeks.
It was then that we knew Sarah wasn't okay. She had just delivered her placenta, and when I looked over at her, she was gray. Purely colorless. I knew the "smile" she gave back at me was not right. I stepped back over towards my mom, and we just stood there, watching. There was so much commotion. I think the doctor said something like, "let's just head over to surgery to get a better look at things." I don't even remember what was going on, except that within probably 3 minutes, my mom and I were the only people in the room. The only THINGS in the room. They had wheeled out Sarah in her bed, Elizabeth in the warmer, and all the nurses, doctor, and Andy were gone. We literally were standing there in the middle of an empty room.
We managed to leave the room, and I specifically remember each of us standing on either side of the doorway, just collecting our individual thoughts. After a few minutes, we walked down to the waiting room where Michael and Dad were waiting. I've never seen them jump up so fast. They knew by our faces that something wasn't right, so we tried as best we could to explain that a.) It's a girl!... and b.) they had taken Sarah to surgery because she was losing a lot of blood. We all huddled together, and then my mom said, "and the baby probably has Down Syndrome." We all cried. Together. I don't think I've ever felt closer to my family than I did in that one moment.
After we collected ourselves, we went over towards the nursery. Really, Elizabeth was completely healthy and fine. And again, huge. They put her directly under the window so we could see her, and there was this moppy-headed, long, chubby newborn (next to the most petite, blond little newborn I've seen). But she was just alone. They wouldn't let any of us hold her, touch her, be close to her... and we had no idea what was going on with Sarah. We started making phone calls to family, and after some time (2 1/2 hours), we think the nurses were starting to be more sympathetic to the situation, because they were almost going to let one of us in to hold Elizabeth and bond with her, as is so important with brand new babies. It was then that Sarah was wheeled back into the area. We literally had gotten NO updates on what had been going on, so we were thrilled (for lack of a better word) to see her.
Well, it turns out, Sarah tore so badly with Elizabeth coming out so fast that she lost 3 liters of blood (almost half of what is in an adult body at one time). Hence the gray color... The doctor knew she needed more light to be able to fix her, but didn't expect to see such a dire situation when she got her into the operating room. The only reason Andy had been in there with them in the first place is because the doctor only expected to do a few stitches and be done. Apparently she said to Andy: "Do you guys pray?" to which Andy replied yes, and she said, "You may want to begin praying." God. The implications of that must have been so much for Andy to handle. I remember him saying that he thought he was going to lose everything that day. Sarah, Elizabeth, everything.
The next few days were marked with more tears, questions, blood transfusions, worries about Sarah as she recovered... And family. I've never seen my extended family jump into action like I did that day. By the end of the first day, Nancy, Jim, Emily, Allison, Amy, Grandma P., Grandpa E., Mary and Mike and Nancy Harrison were there. So much support. Allison handled me, while Emily and Amy helped Sarah. It was a true test of love.
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6 years ago. I can't believe it's been six years since our lives all changed. I thought I would lose my sister and my best friend that day. But I didn't, and not only did I not lose my sister, but we all gained an angel in our lives. Elizabeth has taught us love, strength, patience, tolerance... but most of all she's just been another addition to the family. Just another crazy egg in the carton! And she was darn good practice for me and Skip to learn how to raise a baby. She was Skip's favorite napping partner for a few years there :).
We all have events and things that happen in our lives that mark transitions, sometimes abrupt, and I think a lot of us mark that day as a life-altering day in our memories. We've learned in a matter of hours that life is precious, and not to take things for granted. I wish a wonderful 6th birthday to our Queen Elizabeth Grace, and a lifetime of happiness for her and all those who meet her. To my sister, I love you, and am so proud of how you have grown as a mother, wife, sister, daughter and friend over the past 6 years.
