A feeling of dread consumed me as I walked to room 418. I took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the door before quietly stepping into the patient's room.There, laying in the middle of the bed was a young African American woman. Besides the swell of her belly, she was tiny. In greetings, she mustered a small smile that never reached her eyes, then slowly turned her blank gaze back to the window. My heart melted. After I completed my assessment, I offered the patient pain medication which she willingly accepted. Within minutes the 2mg Stadol and 25mg Phenergan sent the patient into a deep sleep. I wondered if she dreamed everything was ok. She stayed that way for the next hour and a half until she woke with the urge to push. She was fully dilated and ready to deliver. The doctor was notified to come for delivery.As the minutes ticked by, it became painfully clear that the doctor would not make it in time for the delivery. I called another nurse into the room to help. She assisted with the delivery of the baby. In a gush of fluid, the baby laid lifeless on the bed. There was no wailing or hands thrown into the air. Nothing. I intently looked the baby over....he was perfect.I was jarred back to reality with the voice of the other nurse instructing me to take the baby. My heart sank the minute I lifted the baby and felt his heaviness. He was completely limp. His lifeless arms fell to his sides. As I laid the baby down, I told myself to "keep it in, to just PLEASE keep it in". Now was not the time to cry.I turned to look back at the mother. She was once again asleep. No doubt dreaming it was all a dream. Oh, how I wanted to vigorously dry the baby and flick his perfect little feet to stir him to live, but I didn't. Instead, I cautiously patted dry the baby.How could it be? He was perfect. His perfect little nose. His perfect lips. His perfect fingers. His perfect toes. I banded him and gently did his footprints. I put on his hat and wrapped him snuggly in the baby blankets. I left the baby in the open crib and turned to observe the mother still sleeping.As I quietly straightened the room, I would periodically look towards the baby in the open crib. It looked like the blanket was slightly moving. Is his chest rising and falling? After several times of looking.... really looking. I leaned down towards the baby so I could be sure of what I was seeing. There was nothing. Alas, no matter how much I willed the baby to breathe, it was not going to happen. He was gone. I knew I could not hold it in any longer.I quickly went to the restroom in the room where I broke down in tears. I don't know why, but I didn't want anyone to know I had cried. I quickly pulled myself together before exiting the restroom. The mother was still asleep.When the mother awoke, I expected her to sob uncontrollably, but she didn't. She remained as before with quiet acceptance. Tears silently fell down her face as she held her baby and looked at him. What dreams did she have for this baby boy? Oh the heartache of a mother who has lost a child is unbearable to watch.She held her baby for hours before giving him one final kiss. She quietly handed her perfect baby to me.I went to pathology. As I waited for another nurse to prepare the baby's resting spot before being taken to the morgue, I held him as I would any newborn and unconsciously swayed side to side. The perfect baby with the blue lips was wrapped and placed with the tech.After the mother was transferred to postpartum, I learned where her strength came from. She stated that "God needed him...he had a reason."It's been months. I don't remember his name, but I remember his face. Quite frankly, I don't believe I will ever forget the perfect baby born asleep. Down Vote Up Vote × About rjglbws 10 Posts Share this post