I returned home tonight to an exasperated household. My roommate described the scene I had just missed: a young woman gave birth in our foyer. Ambulances couldn't reach her in the snow, but several policemen and firemen arrived on the scene though they proved be of little help. They were ill-prepared for the details of labor, and were hesitant to even touch the baby. They banged on our door and demanded towels, sponges, and blankets. My roommate called her father, a former EMT, and tried to relay his guidance. They cut the umbilical cord with the bourbon-soaked scissors she passed them.
Nobody had seen this woman before. We don't know where she lives or how long she was walking before she collapsed in our building. The woman was quiet during the whole process. She seemed to be in serious shock.
The maelstrom of events makes me stop and ponder: it's been one hell of a 24 hours. A disastrous blizzard left buses and cars strewn in the roads and Christmas just ended. The mountains of snow are beautiful yet eerie. 3 buses are parked in the middle of Dean street and more cars are askew in major arteries around Brooklyn. The whole scene recalls an apocalypse.
The police returned to thank my roommate for her help and to say the baby didn't make it. They said the girl was only 22.
May you and your family be safe and healthy this holiday season.
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