the telling heart

Sometimes at night, when I rock Jalen to sleep, I often think about the day he was born. It was like something out of an Edgar Allen Poe story. I recall spending hours sitting in this calm before the storm, trying unsuccessfully to get some sleep. And the deafening beat of Jalen's heart filled the room through the heart monitor machine--it sounded like a freight train slowly gaining speed (or slowing down). Cho, cho, cho, cho... cho....... cho......... cho..................... cho! Every now and then, his heartbeat would slow down to almost nothing and that's when I would stop breathing for a few seconds, but then a nurse would come dashing through the door to move Eumi into a different position to stimulate the baby.
Fast forward about twenty hours later and Jalen popped out with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck and meconium in his lungs. After he was freed from the cord, they got him to his station and the nurses proceeded to bang on his chest and shove tubes up and down his throat to get him to breathe. I stood by Eumi's side, caressing her face and wiping away her sweat as she was falling in and out of consciousness. Because I continued to block her view of the baby, Eumi started to ask randomly about Jalen and I told her how great he was doing and how beautiful he was. This would make her smile and laugh. Meanwhile, as she continued to bleed, the doctors, anxious to stitch her up, hovered around her waiting for the placenta to come out, which seemed to take forever.
All drama aside though, it was an extraordinary experience. I can't honestly say that I would want to go through another one like that again. But I remind myself to never forget that day, especially when Jalen acts up. Sometimes, at about 4AM, when I'm trying to rock Jalen back to sleep, I touch his face and I think about that day.