February 5 to February 12 – a mere week in the course of a lifetime, but one of the most surreal and important weeks of my life. This is a week that to this day defines me, family and love. As noted in the last segment, my mother had entered what we believed to be her final coma on February 5. One day after my 35 birthday and one week before my daughter’s scheduled arrival. The six days in between passed in a whirlwind of hospital visits, child care, work and life. Thank God for my amazing husband who regularly stepped in to take over and to offer me unlimited time at the hospital. The night of February 11 found me sitting in a hospital room talking to my unconscious mother about the child I wanted more than anything for her to meet. I cannot remember if my mother was still in a deep coma or semi-conscious, but either way she was not fully in the present. I stayed until early evening and headed home to prepare for the coming day and the birth of my last child and only daughter. The weirdest part was that mom and I would be in the same hospital a few floors apart both as patients one awaiting life, the other death. It was something I could not fully wrap  my brain around.

I was admitted to the hospital at 8 a.m. on the 12th of February and my water was broken for me soon afterwards. Based on the boy’s deliveries, we fully expected to hold Abby (my mom’s choice of name) by noon. Abby had other ideas. Despite my water being broken nothing happened. My husband and I played round after round of canasta, bridge, pitch and pinochle. We walked the hospital halls, we shared stories we simply enjoyed being together. It wasn’t until around 4 in the afternoon that I finally had my first contraction. Back labor – BLECH!!!!! The doctors and nurses, all fully aware of the drama unfolding with my mom a few floors away – were extremely accommodating and worked hard to assure I felt little pain. Having had all three boys naturally, I was insistent that I experience Abby the same way. The nurses, being much smarter than me, convinced me that an epidural might make my already exhausted body and spirit able to handle the coming birth with more aplomb. In the time it took me to think about it, it became an impossibility as my contractions got closer and closer together and I dilated rapidly. Before I knew it, mirrors were in place and I was watching my daughter emerge into the world. She was born at 4:53 p.m. It was almost an out of body experience it all happened so rapidly and my emotions were in such turmoil, but what made it even more surreal was the next hour.

My perfectly formed, amazingly healthy daughter was now in my arms. She had been cleaned up, wrapped lovingly and was now comfortably splayed on my chest with my husband laying beside us – it was such an amazing feeling to have this life here and as far as I knew mom was still breathing a few floors over my head. In rapid succession relatives started to arrive. My dad, sister and brother among the first to arrive they didn’t come in with news that mom had passed. They simply came in to experience the joy of the birth. I took this as a good sign. As time passed, family and friends started to trickle out to head home and my husband decided to leave me to rest for a bit while he went home to collect our sons. While he was gone, my nurse came in to check on me and to chat for a bit. She wanted to make sure I was holding up okay and wondered if I would like to go upstairs to see my mom. As she and I were talking, the phone rang. The nurse answered as I couldn’t reach the line without disturbing the baby. With tears in her eyes she handed me the phone. This is what I heard from a voice that sounded like a stage whisper:

“Faithy?”

“Yes,” I answered incredulously as only two people in the world called me by this nickname.

“It’s mommy,” she said. “I just called to welcome Abigail and tell you I loved you.”

I nearly fainted from shock. Here was a woman knocking on death’s door hours ago calling me and making rationale sense. How could this be? What happened? The doctors and nurses from both floors were astounded. Many crying and others jumping with joy. I felt like we had been touched by the hand of God and Abigail was going to be offered the gift of knowing her grandmother. How amazing!