by Tara Emmett

Created on: July 08, 2010

So I used to keep a journal. All through school and even high school. I kept a pregnancy journal even...but my last entry in it was made in the hospital while I was in labor and it says, "The next time I write in here I'm going to be a mommy". But I never wrote in it again. Why? Well, I think it had a lot to do with I wasn't prepared for what happened at Lillian's birth.

 When preparing for a child you are only told all the happy good stuff that's going to happen after the pain. "The dad will cut the cord then the doctor will suction the mucus and hand you your beautiful perfect child". Well...they really need to educate on what to do and how to act when something does go wrong.
Lillian was born April 3rd at 10:25pm after 17 hours of labor. She was helped out by the doctor using a suction vacuum because her heart rate was dropping fast. When she came out she was blue, the cord was wrapped around her neck so tight, 3 times in fact that the doctor had to act fast...Lillian wasn't breathing, crying, and she was blue and choking. Thankfully I had the best doctor there, she acted so fast I didn't even know what was going on, she cut the cord off then told me something like "She's going to be just fine were just gonna take her over here and get her cleaned up and stimulate her"...she still didn't cry. I started to freak out of course, but was paralyzed to the bed from the epidural.

 It seemed like forever.....they were doing all kinds of stuff to her and I thought at the time my baby was going to die. No one had prepared me for this! I got to hold her for about 20 seconds before she was rushed to the nursery ICU and I was left in the room to get stitched up. I was so upset...beside myself thinking "If I'd only pushed harder and gotten her out sooner she would be okay right now".

 One of her lungs was partially collapsed and I didn't get to hold my daughter for 18 long hours. That night while she was hooked up to tubes and monitors, I was in a lonely hospital room with my fiance and no child. They finally got her stabilized and the doctor thought since I was so upset it would be a good thing to put me in a wheelchair and take me to the nursery to see her, at least touch her through the little holes in the case she was in.

 But I was in shock. I just sat there staring at the little baby...at the time not even wanting to call her "my" baby. I'm ashamed of this now, but I remember clearly what was going through my head, "Don't touch her, she might

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