This column is a continuation of last week’s column. If you haven’t read that, you will want to do so now. Again, if you have a weak stomach and a vivid imagination, or problems watching ER and CSI, just put the paper down now and walk away. I may not spell out the worst, but if you read between the lines, it’s in there.
5:20 AM (continued)
Just as the rookie was asking for more detail on our location, the firemen burst in the door. The rookie had filled them in on what to expect. Their voices conveyed calm and organization, but their faces told a different story — one of urgency and pressure under the circumstances.
5:22 AM
Fireman Kully, kneeling on the floor at Holly’s feet, was the team leader and was yelling out, “We have a breach . . .”, followed by numerous other instructions and contingencies each time another fireman walked in the door. There were no less than five firemen, but I think seven in total. Some of them were in the apartment, some running up and down the stairs with equipment, and others were standing by in the rescue vehicles outside. And don’t forget our Greek poser, Officer Wayne.
Kully was going to be responsible for delivering the baby. Knowing now what he knew he was facing then, I’m betting he would rather have entered a burning building than work that grim delivery that day.
5:25 AM
Little did Holly and I know, firemen Joel and Kyle were setting up a resuscitation station in the hallway. Joel and Kyle knew the baby wouldn’t be born alive. They were prepared technically, but they would never say they were really ready. And who could be? They were going to be handed a person who had already been lost, and use every skill they had to entice two tiny lungs and a heart into trying one more time. And all of this with the parents about two feet away, behind a wall, waiting.
What life needs here is a pause button. You know, for some Frosted Flakes, or maybe to change careers or something.
5:29 AM
Somehow, with the baby totally jammed, Kully was able to get the legs down. This was critical for obvious reasons. With Kully’s extra care and skill, and the baby’s bones being so pliable, the tiny leg bones simply bent just enough to curl down.
After this, the baby was yet stuck at the ribs, and later freed. Beyond that, the baby was hung up on its own arms/shoulders, then again later on its own chin. Everything was backwards and hence, nothing came easy.
5:34 AM
The baby was out with one last effort from all involved, mostly Holly. I was focused on Holly and didn’t even look at the baby. Kully had quickly cut the cord and handed the baby to Joel and Kyle. No one in the bathroom could see anything in the hallway. Joel and Kyle were very busy. Kully was assuring us and instructing Holly to relax and rest a bit.
5:38 AM
It took Holly about three minutes to catch her breath, and start thinking clearly. It was then that she started to get very panicked. I was confused as to why, but Holly knew. She knew that she should be hearing cries from that child. She knew something was wrong. I hadn’t even thought of that. It hadn’t occurred to me that the head count in the apartment had increased by one. Since I hadn’t seen the baby outside of Holly, it didn’t occur to me to be worrying about it, out in the world now. A mother’s instinct is not long suppressed by exhaustion.
Kully tried to calm Holly down. Holly started to weep through these three words, “Where’s my baby?” She just repeated those words, over and over.
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| 5:39 AM
I heard some shuffling in the hallway, along with some precise words to coordinate efforts. This had gone on for six minutes.
5:40 AM
Holly started trying to get up, and was only pacified when Kully turned to us holding up someone so small, it didn’t even seem real. We heard a couple weak squeaks and gurgle/cough noise, and then Kully said, “It’s a girl, and we gotta get her on her way. I wanted you to see her. She’s gonna be fine.” Then she was gone even faster than she had arrived.
The weight being lifted off of the collective shoulders in that apartment was actually audible.
6:00 AM
Holly and I departed in the second ambulance. The hospital relayed a positive update about the baby to our driver, who gave us the news. Positive news . . . so nice to have positive news.
6:15 AM
We arrived at the hospital and the staff had these “wonder” looks on their faces, sort of half smiling and half wanting to see the crazed people who did this.
I didn’t fully understand the magnitude of how risky this was until I saw the firemen huddled in a debriefing outside Holly’s recovery room. I walked up to them and listened. From what I could hear, only one had ever assisted with a delivery. No one had participated in a breach of any kind. They had just been a part of something that no amount of training could fully account for. All were thrilled, but there was something more to their bond. It was as if this would be one of the great moments of their careers, and maybe their lives. And they did it together.
We later learned that this crew came to us at the end of a 24-hour shift that had started with tragedy. At 5:00 AM, January 11th, they were called to a terrible car accident on I-35W, where a young father could not be saved, despite their best efforts. As anyone would be, they were crushed throughout the day thinking about a widow and small children having part of their lives ripped away.
Autumn Grace was born at the end of that 24-hour shift in utmost contrast to its beginning, on January 12, 2000. Weighing in at 4.5 pounds, she has been perfect from day one, and a bright spot in our lives. She was the first of two born that year.
We cannot properly thank everyone involved, including Officer Wayne, whom I picked on unfairly in this writing. He did his job, is a nice person, and was there for us in case we needed him. Still, there is money to be made replicating his profile as a yard fountain.
Thanks to all of the skilled members of the Burnsville Fire Department, especially the three front men, Kully, Joel and Kyle. Some very humble fellows; I’m not sure how they can do such work, day in and day out.
We visit the fire department in Burnsville multiple times each year if we can, bringing updated pictures and our thanks.
In her first five years, Autumn “Grace” has gotten stuck behind at least four different pieces of furniture. Her hair has been caught in toys, doors and the vacuum cleaner (makes quite a burning smell). Though we think of her as a gift from God, the “serial victim” option WAS included in the package. Amen.
That’s my report from the “Big City”.
Brian in the Big City
Employee #0090698
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