​

​

​

​

​

​

I don’t know what I want to do more:

​

​

CRY

​

​

PUKE

​

​

Or RUN clear out of this hospital.

​

Clearly the latter of the three is not a feasible option. Still, I would rather be anywhere but here right now. This pregnancy has been nothing but a rollercoaster from day one and I’m honestly just ready to get off this ride.

​

If freaking out over an imminent emergency c-section isn’t enough to worry about, now the doctors are telling me that I have 30 seconds maximum to make a monumental decision between having my mom or my child’s father in the delivery room with me.  Seriously, I’m only eighteen people. I still spend hours deciding on who I want to be friends with and which current rap artist I like more for crying out loud - - you know... . the little not-so-significant debates.

​

How am I supposed to decide which person will be with me during my c-section under such immense pressure, short notice, and little time?

​

I’ve never had stitches in my life let alone been under the knife. Now in the midst of my first major surgery, I have to try to calm down enough to make such a huge decision.  I know that I need someone by my side during this operation that’ll keep me from going into full fledged panic mode. I need warm words of comfort such as, “you’re going to get through this Meisha.”  I need someone to hold my hand through this life-changing event. I know that everything I need, only my mom can provide yet I dread taking the moment away from my unborn son’s dad, too.

​

Meisha why do you care so much about his feelings? Where has his care been during your entire pregnancy - -nine months of feeling emotionally neglected and socially isolated? He has missed doctor appointment after appointment. He missed the childbirth classes, WIC appointment, and everything in between.  You sacrificed most of your teenage freedoms during your high school senior year just to prepare to be the best mom you could be. Oh, but what did he do? He spent his time having so much fun that he didn’t even graduate high school. Yes, this is his child too but do you think he will help you feel secure during this c-section operation? Think about it. I get it. Your big heart is the reason you consider everyone else’s feelings before your own. Yes, your mom will be pissed if she’s not chosen because she’s supported you the most. Yes, your child’s father will be devastated because this is his first born. Guess what? To hell with pleasing everyone! Who will help you relax enough to have a safe delivery for baby Santana. Santana is priority.

​

I looked over at my child’s father. His eyes said it all. They pleaded to come back to the delivery room with me. My eyes wondered over to mom who was visibly geared up and ready to be by my side. She was waiting on me to give her “the go.”

​

Why do I have to make this decision?

​

Before I could spend one more second dwelling on a decision doctors swarmed in to prep me for surgery. Long needles began to be inserted everywhere: my back, my arms, and my hands.  In less than 5 minutes, I felt like a paralyzed push pin doll.

​

“Now be careful not to move at all,” the doctor’s calmly demanded as they prepped me for an epidural, a spinal procedure that delivers anesthetic or painkilling drugs to the nerves that convey pain a spinal procedure that delivers anesthetic or painkilling drugs to the nerves that convey pain a spinal procedure that delivers anesthetic or painkilling drugs to the nerves that convey pain a spinal procedure that delivers anesthetic or painkilling drugs to the nerves that convey pains spinal procedure that delivers anesthetic or painkilling drugs to the nerves that convey pain. So many mothers had warned me against getting an epidural. They shared horror stories of ongoing back problems, spinal headaches said to be worse than labor, and more all because of the epidural.

​

Thing is, I had no time to worry about the painful consequences of an epidural.  With a c-section an epidural is mandatory. Immediately following the epidural procedure, the doctors rushed me to the operating room. 

I felt the effects of all of the injected drugs almost immediately.

​

I became woozy.

​

​

My vision started to blur.

​

​

Drained emotionally and physically, I decided to close my eyes.

​

​

By the time the doctors wheeled me to the operating room, I regained enough strength to open up my eyes. In an instant I realized that I had not explicitly stated who I wanted to come back to support me during this operation. The moment had been too chaotic.

​

I was startled by the sound of a voice.

​

“It’s okay Meisha. I’m here with you. You’re going to be okay”

​

I looked up and saw…