Monday, February 1, 2010

My Daughter



Casey Collett Geilmann - Born October 14, 1978 at the Cottonwood Hospital, located in Murry Utah. Her delivering doctor was Dr. Richard Barton assisted by Dr. Clark with the receiving pediatrician being Dr. Hightower.

"Her Daddy and Dr. Clark gave her a name and a blessing. Her
Daddy blessed her to be healed and to live."


As I lay in the Labor room at Cottonwood Hospital on October 14, 1978, I closed my eyes, trying to get a grip on myself. I was thinking about the long last 9 months up to this moment. This pregnancy was so hard. This baby is small, but full term. I, on the other hand was HUGE. Big enough to deliver triplets, and being a small baby, there was great concern.

I remember thinking, Cindy, you can't let anyone know that you are frightened. You've got to keep your feelings to yourself. You know how things turn out to be ok and you realize that you were being crazy for a moment? It didn't work, I kept shaking and was very nervous, plus I couldn't breathe. My doctor kept coming in and out, checking me, saying, "somethings wrong, we need to be prepared". Oh great!

Everything started to be different from that moment on. I had had two C-sections before and this just didn't feel right. Several nurses started coming in and out. I realized that one was too nervous so she'd go out and another one would come in, then another one. Nobody was talking to me. As I felt their hesitation my, fear began to grow. They kept coming, in and out, in and out. 8 of them to be exact. Now I realize that they just wanted to see my big 45 centimeter belly. How rude!

Ok, I was finally ready. I was wheeled into the operating room. I have never felt so alone and frightened as I did that moment, being rolled down the corridor. As I was lifted onto the operating table, WOW, did I start to panic. I couldn't breathe so I was tipped to the right side and a pillow was put under my stomach to hold it up. I remember thinking, why are there two doctors here and why aren't they saying anything to me. They were talking about some ball game.

The anesthesiologist began administering the epidural. He looked at me and (in a kind voice) said, you've got to calm down. "CALM DOWN!" I wanted to scream, run away, forget it, anything but calm down, and nobody is helping here. I was scared I felt trapped, by myself, in a bad situation. Never in my life had I felt so desperate for help. And the only ones that could have helped me were talking about the basketball game.

In fact, the words "help me" were coming (very softly) from my lips. The anesthesiologist responded, "what did you say"? "What did you say"?

I was crying, I was shaking, I was sick, but I couldn't let my doctors know of my weakness. Where in the world did I learn that? One good thing that I did know how to do -- was -- pray. "Please Father in Heaven, I need help, please help me in this situation". Almost instantly A warm feeling came into my hand, a calmness overtook my body, and there was an aura of tenderness around me. I knew then, that I wasn't alone. We could proceed.