Essay about Loops: Debut Albums and Best Effort

Submitted By jhague07
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Notebooks for Aleigha The time had finally come for me to give birth to my daughter as my husband drove me to the hospital. Up until this point, and through most of the delivery, everything went according to plan. After what seemed like forever my daughter was born and my heart jumped the first time I ever heard her cry. However, I went from ecstatic to terrified in a matter of seconds as the medical team began moving frantically focusing their attention on my baby girl. I laid there helplessly asking everyone, “What is wrong?” Unfortunately, that question fell on deaf ears. My feeling was reassured when I looked over at my husband and saw the same look in his eyes that were in mine; complete fear. Moments after my daughter was born, she was rushed from the room before I ever had a chance to hold her. After the frantic staff carried her out the room, my husband, doctor, and nurse remained with me. I asked the nurse again, “What is wrong?” Finally, the doctor turned to me and said, “There were complications with the amniotic sac. It is likely that your daughter has an infection. She also had a bowel movement, and we fear that she swallowed some of it.” Exhausted and broken down, I sobbed uncontrollably fearing something was wrong. In spite of my family’s best effort, I felt secluded and alone. All I could do is stew in my own thoughts. The next day I was told I could go see her in the NICU. I hurried down the hall and pushed into the room to try to find her. My heart dropped when I saw her in the incubator. She looked so fragile and more important, she looked so alone. I fought the tears of joy for seeing my daughter, and the fear that something was wrong, and I went sat beside her and held her tiny hand for the first time. I then started to pick her up, and then a nurse jolted towards me and said, “No, no! Don’t pick her up!” I then saw all the tubes running out of her small body, and instantly broke down in tears. The next day I was discharged from the hospital and I had to do the hardest thing I could ever imagine; leave the hospital without her. When I got home I sat on my frameless bed and couldn’t help but replay the previous forty eighth hours of my life. Although, I lived on the hopes that all the pain I felt would be eased over time, I needed her to know what I was feeling at this moment. I knew I lost a special bond with her that I could never get back because I wasn’t the first person she saw when she opened her eyes, the first to feed her, burp her, or change her. Because of me losing out on those special moments, I felt like I lost a part of my
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