The two doctors working on me resumed their conversation. I felt tugging and pulling and pressure and more tugging and pulling. Next I heard a flood of water fall on the floor. Followed by another gush of water and a third gush of water. "What the heck? I've never felt that before".
It became so quiet in that room you could have cut it with a knife. Nothing happened! Still nothing happened! There was supposed to be the sound of a baby crying her way into the world. But nothing! What's wrong, I said? ----- What's wrong? ----- What's wrong? ----- The anesthesiologist speaks up. Everything's fine, he says! I'm thinking, "nice try guys". My voice raises and my blood pressure spikes. The only one that has said anything is patting me on the shoulder, calm down, calm down. "NO, NOW WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY BABY," I said. Very calmly the assistant surgeon said, "Everything is not fine. Your baby is in trouble". Dr. Barton turns quickly and hands my new daughter over to the pediatrition. Who imediately lays her on a bed under warm lights and installs a respirater in her lungs. He adjusts the oxygen to 100% and he adjusts the breaths to 100%. MEANING, she's alive, with the help of the machine.