35 mm Joy

I'm now two weeks into my OB-GYN rotation.

When I was helping with my first delivery of this rotation, I realized that I hadn't been in a birth since the beginning of third year of med school. So as I stood and watched a sweet, young Hispanic woman labor through incredible pain, and then produce a lovely (albeit slightly grey and wrinkled) baby, I was unprepared for the tears that would well up while watching she and her mother cry. It was such a powerful moment when that baby was delivered and took its first breath. Now, after many more deliveries, some of that initial awe and wonder has diminished. I wish I could get it back, because as I stood there and witnessed that birth, I could feel holiness in the process.

Most of the patients that we deliver are 'clinic patients'. As in, 'free clinic' patients. These are patients who are: often young, mostly hispanic, and thrilled to be in a hospital at all. Many of the mothers are unmarried, but there are a significant number who have supportive boyfriends or husbands with them during their births. Some of these couples are so precious, I want to squeeze their little cheeks.

The men/boys who are present, are generally very anxious about their partner's wellfare. "Is she okay? Is she okay?" they ask over and over. Then, when the baby is born, the smile that breaks out over their faces is one of child-like joy and excitement. They look as though NOTHING could ever be as exciting as this moment! They stay with their wife for a little while and then rush over to the baby in the warmer like a kid on Christmas Day. An old 35 mm camera is pulled out from their back pocket and they start taking pictures of the baby incessantly. Their cameras look so archaic to my 'newest tech toy' trained eye, that the sweetness of it touches a cord. They turn and smile broadly back at their loved one before rounding again to take portraits of the tiny one. It is such a beautiful sight.

I want to take that young 19 year old boyfriend who looks thrilled to be a father and say, "I really, really hope this all works out. I hope you still look at your girlfriend this way in 10 years, and 10 more after that. I hope that the realities of dirty diapers, and bills, and obligations don't make you forget this moment and how happy you were to be this little family." I wish there were a prescription I could write for that.

In the meantime, I'll just soak up the happiness that seems to radiate from these births, and pray that it sticks to their hearts forever the way it sticks to mine while I'm there.