waiting room

I’ve been in a hospital now three times since Oscars birth. Every time it has been so very different. But this time has it’s been whole new experience and the experience keeps shifting every time I pop back into the waiting room.

I’m photographing my dear friends birth of her second daughter. A planned c-section means you basically wait and just keep getting bumped and bumped (or so I’ve learned), and as Zoe currently naps, her husband at her side, I wait in the tiny waiting room with a revolving door of other people & their stories.

The first time I waited in here, it was just me. Then her doula joined me. I’d spent time with her before at another birth almost six years ago. We dived into our lives and what we’ve been up to in the past couple of years. Before we knew it my birth came up in conversation. With tears in both our eyes, she rested her hand on mine and said, “I’m sorry you had that experience”.

I think I learn more and more each passing day that there is a lot of trauma in births. We hope it wasn’t so, but there is. My friend, the reason I’m here, had that sort of tale with her first born. And, we were all hoping that this birth would be different. So far, it positively was, minus the waiting portion of the day.

My second experience in the waiting room three hours since I was in here last has unlike the first. The room was already filled with people when I sat down. There was a grandma, daughter and granddaughter to my left who were giggling about the cookies the little girl was eating while her aunt and her grandmother chatted about the energy drink her son in law had just left to hold on to while he checked on his wife and new baby. And, on my right, at the end of the room was a family, what looked like the grandparents and their son in law; the dad of a new baby.

Then two new sets of grandparents with two eager granddaughters waiting to meet their sister joined us all sitting directly across from me.

My friends c-section has been bumped by all these families, as all were emergencies that came in while we waited. I wonder how much the families waiting know about the emergency part. Everyone in the waiting room here have the excited-cant-wait-to-meet-the-new-baby energy, while I know in bay two, my friend waits quietly with her husband, insanely hungry after having had her last meal be over 15 hrs ago, wondering when it’s all going to happen and saddened by the time moving later and later; which means her first born has to wait until tomorrow to meet her new sister when she finally arrives.

“They just tell us when and where, and we do whatever they say”, chuckles one of the happy grandparents to the other set. Then a little more sarcastic voice says a few minutes later, “ You got the girls, we get to watch the dog, I guess I know where we rank”. A uncomfortable chuckles emerges and I don’t make eye contact with any of them.

Then they are suddenly interrupted by a dad in scrubs who joins the group. His daughters get so excited seeing him and start squealing, “can we come in, can we come in??”. You can tell he’s flustered. Words don’t come quick. Finally, he motions them to come out of the tiny waiting room into the hallway, which is basically the same room. He finally says to them, “your mom’s a little emotional right now, she’s really happy, she’s just emotional, ok, she’s just crying because she’s emotional but remember she’s happy”. He tries to explain to his daughters who don’t understand really what he is saying because they only know excitement in meeting their new sister. They are too young to know the complexities in what happens with births- I mean I only really understood it.

He goes on to explain to his daughters how the baby can’t be touched. Then explains to his parents and his in laws, who I can only imagine who are starting to understand that things aren’t going as they had hoped, that the baby is having trouble regulating temperature as he says. I lose sight and sound as they start to walk into the medical area. I wonder all about their situation. My heart twists in my chest.

It’s so interesting how this waiting room holds all sort of emotions, all sorts of experiences and feelings. For me, for any mother, father, grandparent; I’m sure the feelings of their experiences and those close to them having gone through a birth are just flooding back. For me, it is. But I’m also wondering about all the others around me, and about Zoe.

And so, I wait. I wait eagerly and patiently until it’s time for us to meet Zoe’s sweet little girl. And hope that everything is peaceful, gentle and something that leaves us all a little happier, or a lot happier.