“What do you mean?”
“They said they’re taking her by ambulance to OHSU and that they needed to take some blood from her. They took her from me.” Just then, I heard my baby cry from down the hall. It wasn’t a hungry cry or a sleepy cry—both of which I was familiar with. This cry was something else entirely. It was painful. Something inside of me snapped and I ran out of the room towards the sound of her screams. When I reached the room she was in, I stopped outside of it, looking through the window, allowing me to see something I would never wish on another mother.
My baby was lying on a table, surrounded by nurses and doctors, some of which were holding down her arms and her legs. One woman was holding what looked like a warm compress on her hands, while another woman was trying to find a vein in Mattie’s foot.
My mouth gaped open again, but this time the sobs came from me uninhibited, as I watched Mattie struggle against them. “Porter,” I cried. “Our baby.”
“I’m coming to you, just hang on.”
“No,” I said shaking my head. They’re taking her to OHSU. Meet us there.”
“Ella,” he said angrily, but I knew he wasn’t angry with me, he was angry because he wasn’t with me, wasn’t with Mattie.
“Porter, by the time you get here we’ll be gone. I need you to be at the hospital. Please.” I heard him sigh and then I heard what I thought was him hitting his hand against his steering wheel.
“I hate that hospital,” he said quietly. My heart broke a little for him then too.
“I know, Babe. I know. Please though, meet us there?”
“I’m on my way.”
“I love you.”
“I love you both. Keep me updated if anything happens.”
“I will. Drive safely.”
I hung up the phone and returned my attention to Mattie, still crying, still struggling against the nurses. She was a tiny little fighter at nearly three weeks old. One of the nurses looked up and saw me through the window. She said something to another nurse and then came out into the hallway.
“Are you the mother?”
“Yes,” I replied, not taking my eyes off of Mattie.
“Do you want to come with me to get a glass of water?”
My head snapped in her direction, immediately put on guard by her request.
“No. I’m fine right here.”
“I know it’s hard to watch, Sweetie. Let’s just take a walk.” She put her hand on my arm, gently trying to lead me away from the window, but I wouldn’t budge.
“Your baby is fine,” she said, trying to placate me.
“Her name is Mattie.”
“Mattie is a strong little baby. Most babies that we see come here in her condition don’t fight us at all. It’s a good sign that she’s crying. I know it hurts your heart, but it’s a good sign.”
I felt more tears welling up in my eyes at her words. Again, she placed her hand on my shoulder gently and turned me so my back was to the window. I allowed her to turn me, but wasn’t going to move away from the window. The nurse then put her arms around me and started whispering in my ear.
“You have to be strong for her, Momma. If you’re upset, it upsets her. I know it’s scary right now, but trust that the doctor knows best how to take care of her and be strong for your baby.” She pulled away and gave me a small smile. “I’m going to go get you some water.”
I stood there as she walked away from me, watching her disappear down the hallway. I wondered if she had any children. I wondered how she would be reacting if it were her baby being poked and prodded in that examination room. I knew she was just trying to get me to calm down, but there was a smug part of me that gloried in the idea that very few people could truly understand what I was going through in that moment, and I’d be damned if someone was going to tell me how to react.
I turned back to the window, and saw that the nurses were trying now to get a needle into her hands where there’d been warmers on them. I made an instant decision and pushed the door open, walking past all the nurses and doctors and made my way to stand closest to Mattie’s head.
I started by gently smoothing the baby-fine hair on her head and whispering to her.
“Mommy’s here, Baby. I’m here, Sweetie.” Mattie calmed almost immediately at my words, only letting out slight whimpers. I kept my voice soft and soothing, trying not to cry as I told her how much her daddy and I loved her. I just wanted her to know I was there. She hadn’t been out of my sight since the moment she was born and I didn’t feel like now, of all times, was when we should be separated. I watched the nurses give me strange looks, as if I’d crashed their party, but I didn’t care. She was my baby and I was going to be with her, wherever she was.
For nearly ten more excruciating minutes I watched as the nurses failed miserably at trying to find one of her veins. She’d been poked in every available part of her body.
“Should we try the frontal vein?” One of the nurses asked the doctor. Before she could answer I interjected.