Arc of the Poet, Part 13: Fame and Fortune

. . .

Waking up at a total loss
For where I was… slowly came awake.
Day had begun, I told myself,
Quite unaware of the day’s high stake.

John O’Groats, right on Pico Ave.,
I ate with Ted – a nice breakfast spot.
LA was totally soaking in –
I’d had good times these two days, I thought.

Morning meeting at The Village failed
To gel – although it was cool to tour.
Walking into KLCS,
Friend Brenda’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

Flying, racing up freeway ramps,
My Sebring – burgandy – made it fun
Prowling into parking lots
At Staples Center – or in the sun.

SIGGRAPH clogged all convention halls;
I searched my way through them for discreet.
Angus met me by chance – by fate?
I wonder, watching the scenes repeat.

Passing badge off to Ted in show’s
High-def HQ, the time dawned on me;
Wending way back to Sebring’s space
I panicked over how late I’d be!

LAX isn’t very close
To where I sat at fifteen ‘til two.
Getting onto that plane at three
Absorbed my thoughts; worried, off I flew.

Knifing back to the rental drop
I didn’t make any driving friends.
Pulling in – there were scores of cars
Awaiting checkers to check them in!

Glancing down at my watch again
I saw I’d thirty-nine minutes more;
Giving up, just about, I saw
The checker wave me on through his door.

On the shuttle bus, wondered why
I’d been so panicked about the flight;
I might miss it, I had no doubt,
But if I did, it was still all right.

Only twenty more minutes stood
Until my flight would be underway.
Stepping into the Delta line,
A supervisor’s help saved the day.

In my seat, calm, onboard the plane,
I called my wife just to let her know.
What a relief, we laughed aloud,
And counted hours still left to go.

Though I spoke with a gentleman
Across America, with no break,
Names are absent from memories.
He made me laugh; helped me stay awake.

Also, checking by cell phone from
Atlanta, Beth and I spoke of him.
Sounding sleepy, relaxed and fine,
The LA trip seemed a winning whim.

Seated for the trip’s last flight,
Another guy landed in my row,
We just talked the whole trip away.
His name? It slipped my mind, too, you know?

Back in Greensboro right at one,
I walked alone through the parking lot.
Aimed for home, our Acord woke up;
I paid for parking… and out we shot.

Blackness paved all the space around
The road, I found, as I made my way.
Skirting Winston and Salem fast,
The darkness stuck to this brand new day.

Music carried me over roads
That turned and rose inside ink-thick mists.
Lights showed up in the rearview, too,
To heighten drama of highway’s twists.

LA, distant by now, it seemed
A glowing gem in my darkened mind.
Feeling thrilled to have slipped away…
A victory of a sacred kind.

Climbing finally past Deep Gap,
I knew I’d sleep in my bed that night;
Knew I’d witness my daughter’s birth;
I knew that things would now be all right.

Driving back across Boone, alone,
It felt so great to be almost there.
Turns led straight back to Rocky Creek;
I got the mail — and inhaled the air!

Windows fell as I rolled by creek,
So joyous journey was ending here.
Fifty-eight after two a.m.,
I felt a tickle inside my ear.

Nearly home – the darn cell phone rang!
I answered, “Hello?” “Where are you?” came
Beth. I told her, “Almost there.” “Good,
My water broke.” I forgot my name…

Also everything else just then.
“We need to go to Lenoir right now.”
Swerving, missing the tree ahead,
I gulped, “I’m almost there. Coming!” (Wow!)

Beth had spent the last hour or more
Preparing us by arranging gear,
Packing truck with our babe supplies,
And pressing phone, dialed-out, to ear.

Calls to Delta confirmed my plane,
She’d just not gotten me through my phone,
So she kept on arranging stuff
And calling, otherwise here alone.

Ann and Chuck – also Grace and Claire –
Were with our grandfolks Dan and Lil,
In Wisconsin there, don’t you know?
My wife alone sat upon our hill.

Calmly, doing all she could do,
She thus stood by… or she paced around.
Though contractions she did not feel,
She knew our time was still counting down.

Bradley Method’s the class we took
Through Julie; made us a birthing plan!
At the time – about three fifteen –
That plan was how I was able to stand,

Move around, gather up some things
With real and practical use and get
Them and me buckled into truck –
Plus Beth’s composure, I can’t forget.

Soon enough, we were on our way
On down the mountain – back on the road!
Caldwell’s hospital beckoned us…
Through thirty miles more of twists we rode.

Time slipped by on that early morn,
We made our way through the misty dark.
Deer were walking along the road
That led, at last, to our place to park.

Weeks before we had toured the floor
Of Caldwell Hospital’s birthing ward;
Who’d have thought we’d arrive so soon?
Though Beth was sleepy, excitement soared.

Still, her water had broken, but
She wasn’t feeling contractions strong.
Settling into our room we got
To hear Amelia’s soft heartbeat song.

Learning from the admitting nurse
She wasn’t dilated much by then,
Beth prepared for a long, tough bout…
And wished she’d feel the real pains begin.

Julie’s class once more gave me fuel;
We started walking around the floor.
Timing pains as the minutes passed
Until, at last, I could go no more.

Sleep demanded I soon relent—
I made my bed in the sleeper chair.
Beth walked on as I sank to sleep;
My dreams were like some surreal nightmare.

Hearing voices, I stirred awake.
A hand extended my way and shook;
Dr. Yun was a nice young guy,
I noticed, watching the care he took

Speaking gently as ultra sound
Scanned Beth. Imagine the shock we felt
Seeing what he then found: “The head.”
Our expectations, just then, did melt.

For, you see, this position’s called
A breech, and even in that spent state,
Quickly senses became awake—
I found my feet and rejoined my mate.

Holding hands, we heard Dr. Yun
Explain that really we had no choice—
Beth would feel, he assured, no pain—
And soon we’d hear our Amelia’s voice.

Having never expected this
It felt as though our whole world was gone;
This was our “worst scenario”—
At least that’s what our first thoughts were on.

Doctors came, midwives, nurses, too—
The operation room was abuzz.
Beth was wheeled in, then given meds,
While I scrubbed up like a doctor does.

Somewhere through these activities,
I think we saw things would be okay.
Fate had thrown us an awesome curve—
But still, it was our Amelia’s day!

All the staff were true gifts from God—
We couldn’t want more or better care.
Bets were off on the costs we’d face—
And yet, we counted our blessings there.

When I walked into surgery,
I saw Beth’s face—and she looked quite calm.
Coming near, she looked up at me—
Just on the verge of becoming Mom.

“This is just so surreal,” she said—
I laughed—and peered up and over drape
Right there—out came our baby then—
With cord wrapped twice round her neck, like tape.

Then our grumpy newborn was brought
Where we could see, at last: What a sight!
All we’d done as a couple had
Paid off: Amelia May was all right.

Then they asked me to bring our girl
Toward the nursery right away.
Beth said “go,” so off we went:
Me, in my scrubs, and Amelia May.

Hitting the doors, I saw Ginny there,
Her gaze was full on the little one.
“That the Darnell girl?” came her voice—
“It is,” I said, to recognition none.

“I’m the Grandma,” she proudly said,
Just focused in on her third grandkid.
“I’m the Dad,” I then gushed her way,
At last she saw me—and laugh we did.

In the nursery, some tests were run,
It broke me in on a lot to come:
Nurses poked, then they prodded more,
I stared them down, feeling mad and dumb.

Ginny helped so by being there;
Her fingertip in Amelia’s hand
Made her granddaughter lots more calm,
And, for her son-in-law, helped him stand.

Seizing moment, I hit our room,
And called my mom to give her our news.
She was shocked – but stuck to her plans,
And said she’d leave after that night’s snooze.

After calling my other folks,
I aimed the camera – improv time!
Documenting Amelia’s birth
Though in my plans – had not been divine.

Sorta scary my form appears
Within that videotaped report,
Trying gracefully to announce
Our daughter’s here – and she’s fine, in short….

Taping that, back to nursery
I ran, with camera in my hand,
Through the glass I was motioned back
Inside — and there with Grandma, scanned.

So upset, but so quick to calm,
Our little one had her video shot.
Now shaking less, she tried to look,
But clearly, eyedrops used hurt a lot.

At this time, while we stood in watch,
Our Beth was wheeled back into our suite.
Soon I went back to let her know
These tests would soon all be done/complete.

Now is when our nurse Crystal comes
To mind—amazing the care she gave,
From delivery room until
We left; so kind, calming, strong and sage.

Footage tells the full story here:
When Crystal pushed our new baby through
Doorway into our room to give,
At last, the mother her babe, I knew

Something special had blessed this day.
My wife just bawled for a bit before
Crystal managed to pass across
The baby – then she just cried some more.

Nothing ever will ever touch
That perfect happiness; like a toy
We’d loved and lost — but then found again;
The definition of overjoy.

Grandma Ginny and Grandpa Bill
Made sure that mother and babe were fine,
Then they headed home, giving us
Darnells some make-new-acquaintance time.

Crystal also was there to make
Us very comfy, so blessed we were
Then and there. When the girls kicked back,
I forced a move off my derriere.

Beth was hip to my getaway
For rest — and then to send email out
Sharing news of our baby girl.
I kissed them both, then I headed out.

Being honest, that drive is not
A memory I can recollect;
Getting home on that afternoon,
Emotions hit I did not expect.

After showering, I’d unpacked,
Was stretching out for a few hours’ nap,
Thinking then about Beth and child,
Was overwhelmed with a sobbing snap.

Found the phone and then called my wife,
Related missing her, being sick,
Gushing pride in our child and her,
plus saying, “Know I’ll be back real quick.”

Sleep was quickly upon me then,
Arriving fast… as night seized the day.
Soon, a stirring of things to do
Awoke and put me upon my way.

First, to office to pull some still
JPEGs from video footage shot,
Post them onto the web and write
A note announcing news on our tot.

Emails went out at half-past eight:
I sent out sixty, all still archived,
Quite triumphantly telling all
Amelia May had today arrived.

Also, pointing them to the site
To see first shots of her and request
Birthday messages back from them,
To show our girl how she’s truly blessed.

Packing up, grabbed my laptop, then
I loaded up and took off again.
Super tired-out and mostly wrecked,
My mind was teeming with spirit kin.

I had triggered a lot of vibes
In sending all of those emails out;
Uncle Scott, had been spreading word
All day and night, too, as I found out.

Granny Bea, Uncle Charlie, John,
Aunt Dean, my Grandpas, other uncles, aunts,
Friends and cousins who passed away
Were all in mind in a joyful dance.

Tears were running, but on I drove,
The road in darkness and fog obscured;
Lucky me, a car’s taillights showed
My path to steer… and so, reassured.

After passing that highway’s worst,
Arriving into Lenoir’s town light,
Guiding taillights just disappeared;
I’m sure my shepherds were there that night.

Somewhere during that drive I thought
Of this – a poem on Amelia’s day…
Starting out with me, unaware,
And ending in such a special way.

Beth was holding her, swaddled tight,
At nine fifteen, when I made it back.
Nothing possibly could have made
Me any happier than seeing that.

Hugs and kisses so freely flowed…
I laid in bed with them, holding tight.
Telling Beth of the pictures sent,
I got my laptop and showed the site.

Then, the emails began to hit,
And I, again, was just overwrought.
My experience was no help
In dealing with those outpoured thoughts.

Reading notes from my mom, and Bart,
Lemays, Miss Cleff, then the Bakers and more,
Rendered speechless this normal ham,
I balled and blubbered as never before.

Soon, composure was all around,
Until a nurse came to take the girl;
Seeking to bathe her, then weigh her in,
Our flat refusal made that nurse’s hair curl.

Online love kept on pouring in,
We relished words from the Jenners plus
Zobrists… then Uncle Tommy’s laughs
And Uncle Scott’s note were priceless to us.

August 16 would see us there,
In learning mode on so many things:
Nursing, dealing with Beth’s vast pain,
the baby’s choking and Martha’s “wings”…

Gramma Lila’s arrival, too,
At end of day, when we’d all head for
Temporary place we then called home
‘Til ours was done: Ann and Chuck’s ground floor.

That night, too, Ann and Chuck would meet
Their niece… but since this poem’s about
Birthday girls’ very first day, we’ll stop
When lights in room 366 went out.