And the only way to get the baby out was an emergency C-section.
I got on the bed and straddled her body.
Come on, Sarah. Come on, Sarah.
One of the nurses handed me a bag-valve mask, and after I pulled the oxygen from Sarah’s nose, my shaking hands hooked the mask to Sarah’s mouth. Once the seal was tight, I followed the count of chest compressions, followed by two breaths.
Come on, Sarah. Come on, Sarah.
Your little boy is going to be born soon, you cannot leave him.
I checked for a pulse. “I’m losing her!”
“Get the crash cart,” I heard.
I lifted her half shirt, and when I was handed the paddles of the defibrillator, I set them on her chest. “Clear!” The shock entered her body, and I could feel it under my knees as I knelt on the bed.
Everyone watched the heart rate monitor. When there was no change, the doctor yelled, “Again!”
“Clear!” I shouted.
Sarah, come back to me.
Sarah, please.
Saaarah!
“We need to take her to the OR now!” the doctor announced. “Emily, restart chest compressions!”
The nurses, along with the doctor, were pushing the bed out of the room. I felt the movement, but the only thing I was looking at was Sarah’s face, the color of her skin, waiting for a sign that she was coming back to life.
Sarah, you can do this.
Sarah, you’ve got to fight.
Sarah, you cannot leave . . .
At the door that led to the hallway of the OR, another team was waiting, each of them dressed in surgical scrubs. As they took over, the emergency response team backed away, one helping me off the bed, while someone else took over the compressions and air flow.
I stood at the entrance of the hall as they wheeled Sarah through, watching them run her to the OR until the door fully closed, cutting off my view.
Vanessa, another RN in my unit, put her arm around my shoulders. “The first AFE I’ve ever seen. Thank God. I hope I never see one again.”
Heaviness.
That was what I felt.
In my chest, neck, behind my eyes.
The heaviness Sarah had described and it was now mine.
My toes were cramping, my knees wanting to buckle.
“She’s not going to make it, is she?” I held my chest as I spoke.
Vanessa shook her head. “I don’t think so, no.”
I knew that . . . I just needed . . .
