The Birth

Written by: Janette Fisher

The way the nurse looked at me, told me
That something wasn’t quite right
It’s why I‘d gone to the surgery that day
I’d been feeling nauseous all night,
The nurse called the doctor, who came to say
“We’re going to start you off, right away.”

They told me I had pre-eclampsia
A condition both dangerous and rare
But not to worry, that my baby and I,
Would receive the best of care
They put me to bed, and told me to rest
Then every five minutes, took a blood pressure test

The doc gave me a valium injection
To bring my blood pressure down,
Ten minutes later he came back again
The smile on his face, replaced by a frown
“I’m sorry Janette - your blood pressure’s too high
If we don’t operate right this minute – you’ll die!”

They gave me the anaesthetic,
As they wheeled me down corridors grey
And as we approached the theatre doors,
I could feel myself drifting away
The last thing I remember, before slumber serene
Was the theatre staff, standing there, all dressed in green

When I eventually came round, when I finally awoke
Hooked to monitors, drugged, feeling sore
I received such a shock, I shot up in bed
Pulling all the drips down to the floor,
The doctors and nurses then came rushing in
To find out, what caused the alarm bells to ring

They told me I’d been in a coma
For two weeks, I’d been out of this world
That the op had gone well, and I now
Was the mum, of a beautiful, baby girl
She was doing quite well, though still a bit weak,
I was totally too dumbfounded to speak!

Two weeks of my life are now missing,
Absent time, I shall never recall
But if not for those doctors and nurses
I would never have been here at all,
For my life, and that of my daughter they saved
And for that I’ll be grateful, to the end of my days.

©  Janette Fisher – April 1983
This poem was written after the birth of my first daughter who is now 27