The night sky of my universe became starless. All I could do was to try and anchor myself from the oxytocin high and call out for her spirit to assure her that whatever her soul mission on Earth was, we’d be there.
Weirdly, I felt calm. I had a sense that nothing would go wrong. It can’t, we just had a blissed-out birth. While these thoughts rushed through me, we constantly tried to make Arna breathe. I was talking to her, promising all that could come to my mind.
They pushed the ressuss table beside me. My universe narrowed down. All I could absorb from my environment was how much I loved that purple, little limp body. I tried to channel these feelings towards her, to make sure she would be OK!
The seconds slowed.
It had been six minutes (three from the cord cutting). It felt like the longest six minutes of my life. Meanwhile, Anne and the team did what they needed to do. She was constantly informing me in a calm voice of what was happening. I could hear her saying that she couldn’t find the airway for some reason.
It was so surreal, like I was watching it from the outside.
I only realised I was holding my breath, when I heard Anne say “She is breathing! She is finally breathing!” I heard a big sigh rumble out of my chest. Anne wrapped her up, and placed her in my arms. She was beautiful, and pink, and I will never forget how she grabbed my little finger.
Anne suggested we take Arna to hospital for further observation to see if they could find out why she stopped breathing.
So close to a different outcome.
We stayed in the special care unit for three days. They did test after test on Arna, but could not find anything. I had her on me all day and night, except when I had to go to the bathroom. I watched her slowly fall asleep on me. I felt her little body rise and fall with every little breath she took.
Then it sunk in…how lucky we were. How close we were to living a completely different story. Love and gratitude took over my soul, and the tears ran down my cheeks uncontrollably. We were so close to losing her. Two minutes more and she could have had serious complications and brain damage. There is no day, especially around her milestones and birthdays, that I don’t think how special it is to have her with us. She is the cheekiest, kindest, most spirited ‘pixie fairy’ I’ve ever met. We are truly blessed.
PS: It wasn’t until Arna was eight-months old that we got some answers as to what happened at birth – but that is another story I will share in the future.
Thank you so much to Marta for sharing her birth story with us, and to the wonderful photographer Marijke de Jong for her beautiful photographs. If you would like to share your own story, please get in touch.