It was a normal pregnancy; nothing out of the ordinary. Quad marker and diabetes tests were great, the heartbeat was strong, the baby was moving fine. I was full-term and the Doctor assured us that there was nothing to fear. Yet, less than ten minutes after she was born, our newest daughter was taken from my arms and rushed out of the delivery room. The nurses who had been administering their regular newborn tests explained that she had to be whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit because her blood sugar was dangerously low.
Naturally, my husband and I freaked out. She is the youngest of our five children and nothing like that had ever happened to us before. He rushed after them, checking on our newest daughter to make sure she was okay and in good hands. I was numb, left to answer the questions of the medical professionals around me. It felt like I was swimming in a giant blur. Every person in the room seemed to be moving fast yet talking slower than usual. My body, mind and soul were filled with conflicting emotions. The happiness and relief that normally comes after giving birth were gobbled up by shock, confusion, helplessness, anger, and despair. Anxiety intruded into the core of my being and threatened to burrow a home in my brain.
People came and left, leaving wisps of reassurance in the air. A friendly-faced nurse entered, assisted me in a wheelchair and pushed me into…
