Curiosity Severely Bruised The Cat

My brother-in-law passed out. Faceplanted on the delivery room floor. The nurses dragged him to the hallway and left him there, bleeding. At least until the happy event was complete.

Me? I was tough. Muy macho. My heart rate barely climbed over its steady walking pace. I held my wife’s hand, rubbed her head and breathed in sync until the doctor’s miracle drugs kicked in.

Then I looked over the white sheet. I had to. Nurse Blonde warned me. Might as well have been a double dog dare. And while it didn’t kill me, curiosity did indeed severely bruise this cat. The effects we delayed of course, me being far too intensely tough to show any fear during the moment itself. Three or four months after my son was born, I woke up flooding in sweat unable to breathe. Images of spleens and intestines spread out on my wife’s opened stomach drifting across the backs of my eyes.

Gross.

The difference between natural birth and cesarean is rather drastic.
The former requires that the small human child emerge from a hole in the mother’s body evolved for that purpose. It’s messy and from what I’ve been told, extremely painful. Any high school Sex Ed class will tell you. The latter however, requires an entirely new emergency exit be sliced into the body. And darn, wouldn’t you know it? There are pieces and parts that must be removed in order for the doctor to reach in and gain access to the baby. Those parts need to be gently placed down someplace in order to be Tetris’d back into position when the delivery is complete. Apparently that is what the white sheet barrier is hung high to cover up. No expecting parents want to see that stuff. Right?

Apparently Nurse Blonde’s warning wasn’t detailed enough for my adrenaline charged holy crap we’re having a baby RIGHT NOW brain. Of course I looked. Why wouldn’t I look? My child was arriving. I wanted to see him be born. The greatest moment of my life. Then there was the blood and the pulsing and the skin and the guts and the ugh.

I love my wife. I love her more than anything else in the world. I love every part of her. Every cell and molecule that makes her is adored and cherished by me. But at that moment, I learned something very important. The parts of her inside the skin? Yeah. They’re so much better when they stay there.

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  • reply Mike Squatrito ,

    You’re a better man that I. Alex! And to think, you write horror and a C-Section caused you to wake up in a cold sweat!

    • reply Sara Hutchings-Schwartz ,

      Alex, thank you for this, I dig it and understand.Having lived through and accidently seeing my own emergency c-section, I can tell you being disemboweled under duress is highly traumatizing. At least in a work of horror you can fight back, and the good guys don’t generally sedate and then slice you open. lol

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