When I saw you and Sofia in the hospital parking lot you looked so excited, so unafraid. You’d brought pizza and watermelon. I stepped in and out of the motion sensor, letting the glass doors open and close. I started crying as soon as you saw me.
The birth, which everyone said would be nothing like the movies, was exactly like the movies. Mom dropped me and Stacy outside of Urgent Care at 12:30 AM. Inside, Stacy told the nurse, He’s coming now. The contractions left her speechless, with little break in between. I texted Mom from the observation room at 12:44 AM, This is going to happen real fast. The baby’s heart rate was of great concern and the number of staff surrounding Stacy multiplied. I didn’t know if Stacy or the baby were in grave danger, but the possibility of a calamitous outcome cast a shadow over those minutes. Suddenly, I was clutching pieces of her discarded clothing in my arms, running behind the gurney towards the delivery room. Stacy was eerily quiet; still wearing her green tank top, eyes closed. When we rounded the final corner, our doctor was waiting for us. He pointed at me with recognition. Moments later, there was Sid, chalky white and bloody red, squirming alive on Stacy’s chest.
Mom was in the short-term parking lot facetiming you when I sent her a photograph at 12:58 AM. Oh my docking god, Mom texted back. That was harrowing, I wrote. Oh my god! Is she okay? Is Sid? Are you? In the months leading up to the birth, she’d asked if she could be with us in the delivery room, but we’d told her no. Kris Jenner always gets to be in the delivery room, she complained. Even though she wasn’t in the room, her presence ended up being necessary. I’d practiced driving in anticipation of Sid’s due date but when the moment came for me to become a mom, it turned out that I needed my mom. She was our first visitor shortly after 2 AM. She brought levity and our suitcases.
He pooped, a nurse told me after checking Sid’s vitals. I didn’t expect to be called upon to parent so soon after his arrival.