Happy Birthday Brett

For the next two weeks everything was wonderful.  We had lots of visitors and so many wonderful gifts.  He was outfitted like no one would believe!  To say this baby was a blessing would be an understatement.  

In his third week we noticed he wasn't eating, feverish and just fussy.  We called the doctor, made and appointment and took him in.  When his pediatrician came in she examined him thoroughly and then took our breath away by telling us she was sending him to the hospital.  What!?   She told us to go straight there.  When we arrived they were waiting for us in the NICU.  Seems the fetal monitor that had saved his life, had also caused an infection.  Since his birth the lymph nodes had taken care of this infection and now, they were overloaded and they were infected.  

Once again my baby was fighting for his life.  This was all too much.  He was put on an IV - and for me to hold him the nurse had to lay him on a pillow and hand him to me so I would not interfere with the lines.

Overwhelmed and scared we stayed in that room right by the nurses station for a week.  He was monitored around the clock.  We barely left his side.  Family would relieve us but I was afraid to go too far.  

Then, to our joy and relief he improved.  He fought and won, yet again.  Everyone said, "God has a plan for this baby,"  He pediatrician told me later that she didn't want to let on how very sick he was.  Once again we got to take our baby home.  This time it was for keeps.

He has a scar on the back of his head from that monitor.  When he was small other children would ask him about it and it really bothered him.  Finally, I told him to tell them it was a battle scar.  It truly was.  It is ironic, had it not been for the monitor when I was in labor he would have died and because of the monitor after he was born he almost died.  It really is proof that he was in the fight of his life.

We never looked back after that.  We have had more fun with him than words can express.  It was always the three of us - him, his dad and me.  Beach trips, Disney, parties, cruises, coached by his dad in sports, pets, accomplishments, awards, friends, first truck, first love to true love, first house, wedding.  It has been quite a ride watching him grow into the man he is now.

My son, is the best of me.  He grew up with a kind heart and a gentle spirit.  He always seemed like an old soul.  People would stop me just to talk to him wherever we went when he was little.  He respects people, he works hard at everything he does.  This son of mine who was spared twice has given our family a life of happiness, laughter, silliness, memories and love.

He is the handsome, strong man in the photo with me.  Happy Birthday Brett.  "I'll love you forever.

"We have a son."

It wasn't the belt.  That became alarmingly evident after a few minutes with the internal fetal monitor in place.  My baby's heart beats were almost imperceptible after each contraction.  They would drop dangerously low and not come back up as high or as quickly as they wanted.  After eight and a half hours of labor I wasn't going to be delivering my baby on my own.  They had to move fast to save him.

If people were bees and that room a hive you could picture what happened next.  Someone went to the door and yelled out "I need a C team stat."  Someone else shoved a paper under my nose for me to sign - to this day I wonder what that signature looked like.  Since I was pretty loopy at the time.  They hurried my husband out and saying we have to do a c-section and you can't go.  All the while nurses were putting blood pressure cuffs on me, hooking up new IVs and moving me to a gurney and moving me out.

I am told that from the second they asked for a C team until my baby was delivered a grand total of nine minutes elapsed.  Nine minutes.  Minutes that could have turned out so differently. 

There is a movie with Kevin Bacon and Elizabeth McGovern entitled "She's Having a Baby".  There is a part where they are in the hospital getting ready to welcome their new baby, she is in labor, he is in his cute little scrubs and all is well with the world, until something goes wrong and it is like watching us on the screen.  My husband cannot watch that part of the movie without getting upset.  He says it hits too close to home.  He said he sat in that waiting room not knowing what the outcome would be.

So, at 8:59 am on that Wednesday morning, after the hours of labor our baby came into this world and I missed it.

The next thing I remember was my husband standing over me in a recovery room and saying "We have a son."  A son.  Really?  Since for some reason I thought I had a girl.  I kept thinking poor thing, he is so confused!  But no, we did have a son.  A wonderful, beautiful, perfectly healthy although small son.  Since he was early he weighed just under 6 lbs.  But he was here, he was safe.  He made it through all the trauma and delivery. 

We were told the placenta had separated during my labor and he was smothering.  He was fighting to breathe and for every heart beat.  I often think how glad I am that I didn't take the heavy drugs for pain or have the epidural.  

But, thanks to the quick work of the doctor and those wonderful nurses I had him.  My easy, normal pregnancy had turned into something else.  It was not the plan, but it was God's plan and we had a little boy to hold and love.

I wasn't a Christian when all this happened.  I attended church, always had.  But I had never given my heart to Jesus.  After I was saved I could see the hand of God on my little one that night.  I had held off taking anything for pain, I had refused the epidural.  If he had the drugs in him from me taking them he would have been lethargic and would not have fought so hard.  The right people we there at just the right minute when it became critical.  Otherwise our story would not end as it did.

We along with his grandparents celebrated his arrival.  I had to stay in the hospital longer than expected because of minor complications with me.  But one week later we took him home.  Home to his Peter Rabbit nursery.  Home to his own bed.  Home to meet friends and other family members.  Home so we could love him and watch him grow. Home.

"She is making progress"

So after our little drive to the hospital and the check in process, they placed us in a little room in the L&D.  It had a door that opened to the main hallway and a door that opened to a back hallway for privacy.  After I was outfitted with my lovely hospital gown and examined by a nurse I was told to go in the back hall and walk to get my labor started.  Not even a twinge at this point.  So we started walking.  We walked and walked, soon some pains were evident but they were in my lower back.  I would go back to the room occasionally for a rest, never on the bed, just leaning on it to relieve my back.   My husband would rub my back and after a breather off we would go again. We had done all the natural childbirth classes and I was determined to do this without drugs.  I could say idiot again.

We would take our breaks, or they would check me and say keep walking and we did.  Not sure of the time but way up in the morning they said I had progressed enough that I could get in the bed.  That almost sounds like good news.  But OMG!  I had back labor and it was vicious.  It eventually made its way ALL the way around and let me tell you there weren't any doubts then!

We did this for hours.  My husband on one side of me holding my hand, a young nurses aide on the other side of me holding my hand, and me with a big monitor belt across me in the middle of the bed.  I am sure it was a sight.  He told me later he thought I would break all the bones in his hand and wasn't sure how that girl stood it like she did.  I hope nothing was mangled in her hand!  But when one of those pains hit I didn't care what I was breaking.  Still no drugs.

The nurses made their appearance every now and then to check on things and would say "you are making progress".  One could only hope so!  They finally must have realized that we actually were going to have a baby that day, so they let my husband change into his cute little scrubs.  He was excited and nervous, I was exhausted.  One of the nurse told me I needed to let them give me something to take the edge off.  No epidural was my reply and she said, "No epidural".  They gave me something in an IV.  I still hurt like crazy, but it didn't seem quite as horrible each time that pain shot through me!

My OB came in to see how I was and he was told "she is making progress" - Ha.  He read the little tape coming from the monitor which was strapped on me.  Patted my shoulder and left.  Ok.  I don't need your help anyway, I got this.  For all I knew he was checking his stock reports on a ticker.

Sometime later he came in rather a hurry and said, we need to take the monitor off and use an internal fetal monitor.  Why?  What's happening?  Those questions rolled around in my head but I am not sure if I asked them.  Maybe my husband did.  I do remember hearing an answer as they made the change.  The baby's heart rate isn't coming back up like it should  after each contraction.  We need the fetal monitor to get a more accurate reading.  Oh, nothing is wrong, good.  It is just that clunky belt I am wearing.

Waiting for a little one, Pt. 2

It has always been funny to me that sometimes I cannot remember why I walked into a room and what I was doing, yet things from so long ago seem as fresh in my memory as the day it happened.

May 24, 1983 I worked all day, it was a Tuesday.  I drove home from work finished up some yard work - just pulled a few weeds while sitting on the ground.  Couldn't muster up more than that since I was very pregnant.  My husband drove up from his job and asked me what in the world I was doing.  Seemed pretty obvious to me.  So at his rather strong suggestion I went inside.  For dinner I cooked spaghetti, salad and rolls.  Later that night I made chocolate chip cookies.  

Our washer and dryer was on the basement level of our house and we also had a den down there, which we had finished ourselves and if I do say so looked pretty good.  While I waddled up and down the steps washing towels and such, my husband sat in the floor of that den surrounded by change and sorting out the quarters for all the names on our list who wanted to be called the minute we had news.  Remember this was thirty years ago - no cell phones to be had.  So every call would be from a pay phone and he wanted to make sure he had plenty of ammunition.

The moon was almost full.  It would be completely full on May 26.  While standing in front of the washer putting in yet another load, there it was.  My water broke.  I calmly walked around the corner to tell my husband and he said, "does this mean we are going to the hospital?"  To which I said, "nah, I haven't even had a pain!"  Idiot.  About an hour went by and nothing had happened but he was panicky so I called the doctor's service and he called me right back.  I told him what had happened and he told me I needed to go to the hospital.  My response was "Now?"  He said, "Yes, now."  Again, idiot.  Well, this was my first time having a baby, so what did I know?

I changed into a clean shirt and jeans.  We got my bag which was packed and ready to go.  We got our little item that was to be my focus point during labor.  We closed the door to our house and buckled up in our Nissan 200SX and drove to Northside Hospital which was about a forty five minute drive, normally.  I don't think it took him that long.  It was about 11 pm. and I remember what a clear and beautiful night it was. I was calm, still had not even had a twinge. I know we talked on that ride, but could not tell you anything we said because in truth I was a million miles away.  The thought that was going through my mind was things will never be the same again!

To be continued...



 

Waiting on a little one...

My son is about to be 30 years old.  There are many birthday milestones in your child's life that really touch your heart as a mom.  Some being their first birthday, the 5th, 13th, 16th, 18th, 21st.  At each one of these your child moves to another phase in their life.  No longer an infant, first grade, teenager, driver's license, graduation, adulthood.  But 30!  It just doesn't seem like that is possible.

June 10 was the date he was due, but he had other ideas.  So, May 25 is his birthday.  Ten days from today.  I want to share a little about the time I was waiting for him and then a little about my son and I will do that over the next few blogs.

We were married for nine years before he was born.  It was our choice to wait, we enjoyed the time as a couple, but there came that time when we decided we both wanted a child.  The day I went to the doctor to confirm what I already knew I called my husband and asked him to meet me for lunch.  Now, I worked about 30 miles from him but could not wait until that night.  It was great!  He didn't even know I had gone to the doctor!  I will never forget his reaction.  I was blessed with a pretty normal pregnancy.  I had the sickness - at night.  I had a great job and worked everyday.  Of course the backaches and the kicks and heartburn were there - but I loved them.  Every symptom meant I was carrying my new son or daughter (I never had a test to tell me which it was).  Everyone had their own guesses and that was fun.

Decorating the nursery was a joy!  I had so many beautiful things thanks to lots of family and friends who were just as excited as we were.  The room was done in Beatrix Potter's Peter Rabbit and friends.  My favorite being Jemimah Puddleduck.  I had all the little clothes, blankets, bedding all washed and folded and waiting.  It was an amazing time in my life.  It is funny how things like a song can take you right back to a time in your life.  To this day when I hear "Thank God for Kids" or "Danny's Song" I think about my pregnancy and how much I loved that little one I was carrying.  

By late May I knew I would never make it to June 10.  I kept telling my husband and my mom this baby is coming sooner than they think!  I had the bursts of energy.  I worked in the yard, I pulled weeds, I cooked and cleaned and worked every day.  The night of May 24 it was different and deep down I felt it would be just a short time before we met our little one...

...to be continued.

 

Honor Thy Mother

Mother's Day is tomorrow.  What other day brings forth so many emotions?  It is a day set aside to honor you mother.

Scripture says Honor Thy Mother everyday.  Not everyone gets that.  I am blessed to have my mother and mother-in-law still in my life.  I hope that I honor them as they deserve.  I have a son that loves me and a daughter by marriage!  They are joys in my life.

Many women in my life have been like a mother to me.  From my first Sunday School teachers who read stories of Jesus and his disciples and taught us to love one another, to my school teachers.  My first, third and fifth grade teachers were wonderful women who I remember with fondness so many years later.  During my fifth grade year we moved to a new town and new home and it made me sad to leave the teacher I loved.

In our new community I met the girls who would be my life long friends.  We had so much fun together, having grand sleepovers, watching movies, riding our bicycles, sharing meals at each others house.  I came to love their moms - the ladies who drove us around, planned our parties, made our snacks, worked in the gardens and cooked fabulous home grown vegetables.  We knew if our own mom wasn't around, there was always a mom close by.  I hope they feel the same about my mom.

After I became a mom and my son has his own friends I was blessed to be one of the moms I just described.  There was always a time that little boys were running in and out of my house!   I was one of the neighborhood moms and it was great.  Then I was a school mom, a team mom, a Sunday school mom, a Care Group Mom.  It was wonderful.

Along the way I had women in my life that continued to be moms to me.. high school teachers, women I worked with, ladies from our church that were blessings in my life.  They mentored me, taught me, prayed for me, strengthened me and loved me.  They were the best moms!

Here's the thing though.  Looking back on all these women in my life, some were not blessed with children of their own.  They were not called mom, mama, mother.  Some of the teachers I had were single, some of the ladies in church did not have children, some had lost children.  I realize it didn't matter.  These women had love to give, wisdom to share, lessons to teach if anyone would listen.  These women were moms to so many.

So today I am wishing all the ladies in my life "Happy Mother's Day".  The ones with children, the ones who never had children, the ones who lost children, the ones who still hope for that child...You are all important, you are all loved, you are all treasures. If you have such women in your life be thankful, take a moment to remember them.  I will do the same.