PUSHING TIME!

Before I was given the green light to push, the doctors broke down my new delivery plan. They shared that in the operating room, I would only be able to have one person by my side. So I had to tell my mom that she would need to stay behind until Caliyah arrived. They explained that pushing could take hours so that I would start in my room, and once I got to the point that she was close to arriving that they would stop me and roll me into the operating room. They gave me a heads up that the OR was sterile, bright lights, and cold, so I wouldn't be in shock when I entered. They gave my husband and mom scrubs that they would need to wear, and we mentally prepared for what we saw as the final lap of the day.

The pushing began in my room, and my husband was right by my side, holding my hand. For the first few pushes, I was coached by my doctor; she told me to push from deep in my belly. Trying to push when you are entirely numb from the waist down is harder than it sounds. I would push and focus on specific areas until they said, yes, that is! Push just like that last one. So we started with a deep breath and push for the count of 10 and then one big breath, another push holding for 5 seconds. Fifteen minutes in and the doctor called another doctor in the room to see my progress. I assumed they just wanted to check her head and see if she was overstressed. The new doctor with a surprised look said I need you to stop pushing. We need to get the team ready; you are ready to go to the OR; your daughter looks like she will be here soon.

I think we were all in shock. Rome put on his scrubs, and we took a moment to take in the fact this was it. Even though they had already described the room, the brightest, and lack of warmth hit me hard. The room I was in for the last 24 hours was comfortable, I had my humidifier going with my essential oils, the blinds open so I could see Husky Stadium. I felt so disconnected from this new room. The team of 10 doctors poured into the room, but I tried my best to keep my eyes locked on Rome. No matter how different my birth plan was going, my one constant was that Rome was right by my side.

So he did what he does best, turned into the DJ and started our playlist, but the slow jams I originally picked was not right for the mood. So Rome acted quickly and queued up some hype music. 50 cent "in da club" was an OR favorite, the doctors loved it, and it was an excellent pushing song. Luckily, Caliyah had multiple soft spots on her head, which it was allowed her head to move through my pelvis so smoothly. At one point, the doctor asked if I wanted to see my delivery, and I gave a hard pass to having a mirror being held up while I was pushing. After the second time of her asking if I wanted to feel her head, I finally said yes. All I felt was hair, and goodness did she come out with a head full of hair.

Thirty minutes after entering the operating room, Caliyah Joy Johnson arrived at 3:49 pm, weight 6 lbs 3 oz and she was CRYING. I was overwhelmed with joy because her crying was a great sign; she laid on my stomach for 20 seconds as I looked her up down and talked to her. I think I was in such awe that I didn't notice she stopped crying, they rushed my husband to cut her umbilical cord, and then off to a separate room she went to get worked on.

SEPARATION

I laid on that table as they worked on me, and all I could do is keep my eyes locked on Caliyah's room. Her room was the size of a closet that was attached to mine and about 12 feet away from my bed. All of a sudden, I realized I couldn't hear her crying, and I saw doctors coming in and out of the room but I still couldn’t hear her. I was so out of it that I didn't realize how long the doctors were working on me until I heard one say, "she's losing a lot of blood guys." I quickly snapped out of it and put the focus on me. My uterus wasn't shrinking as fast as they wanted it to, and all of my placentae wasn't making its way out as they wanted. I lost a liter of blood and had one too many hands inside of me.

Twenty minutes after arrival, Rome finally came out, and his eyes said it all. He said she's not breathing well on her own, they had to intubate her, and they had a hard time doing it. I looked at him harder, and it's like he knew what I was asking, he said, and it's pretty clear she has one of the syndromes just not sure which one. They quickly strolled her to me before they took her to the NICU. My emotions were all over the place. Tears came down as it was so hard to see her intubated and the next second it was a smile because my Cali Joy was finally here and she had already defeated so many odds.

As they rolled her to the NICU, they pushed me to my room. The next time I would see her, and Rome would be 6 hours later before they took the ambulance to Seattle Children's Hospital. Our communication was all via text for the next few hours. The doctors gave me medicine to help slow down the bleeding and came into the room every 15 minutes pushing hard on my stomach and checking the position of my uterus. Those next few hours were a blur. My parents came back to the room to console me, but all I could focus on was my phone and waiting to hear updates. I thought my delivery would be the hardest part, but I soon learned that the next 18 hours after her arrival would be more complicated than birth.