Pink clouds. Well, gray clouds with pink light reflected onto them. That's what I saw when I let the news sink in that this birth was not going to be the way that I'd planned. I'd read the book Mothering Multiples in which they give the statistic that 50% of twin births are cesarean, but being the optimist, I was hopeful I wouldn't be that 1 in 2.
Tears came welling up, but these clouds were the sign from God that though there were dusky clouds in the sky, that wasn't the only thing to see. Though this medical intervention was necessary and my natural birth was no longer a viable option, the rose-colored light was visible and beaming with warmth.
In that moment I was alone in the room taking in this jilting news that was already foreshadowed in triage. Addison had left to get dinner as this was his chance to eat before "go time." These fluffy clouds of dark and light were reassuring me that there was a chance to find hope in hardship.
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