R's Birth Story

In the days and hours leading up to R's birth, I grew more and more nervous. 

I didn't feel really and truly safe until Wednesday morning, when I was strapped up to monitors and baby's heartbeat was providing the background noise to my nervous energy as the nurses prepped me for surgery. Up until that moment, I remained scared something would happen to her at the very last minute. Even up until the night before, I continued to send my nightly bedtime dispatches to her: "hang in there with me baby girl! only 1 more day left!"

There was still a lot to know: whether she'd be healthy, how much her condition would affect her, how long she would be hospitalized.

But, for that moment, getting prepped by friendly nurses was distracting me from worrying much beyond the present moment. One scary thing at a time.

The first scary thing was getting my IV.  I hate IVs and all my recent ones have been in the back of my right hand.  This one was placed in my left wrist and once it was in, it was awesome.

surgical cap in hand - almost "go time"!

M in his "zoot suit"

I met the OB who was performing the surgery.  We talked about baby's position, and the doc got an ultrasound machine to confirm.  He said he didn't think he'd have to do any special or extra incision - that a normal transverse incision should work just fine.  

The next scary thing was getting the spinal.  The nurse who was going to be there for my surgery and recovery wheeled me to the OR.  When she pressed that button and the OR door opened, I saw the overhead surgical lights, tons of medical equipment, and a scrub tech.  My anxiety went through the roof and my lower jaw started to shake.  The room was seriously serious, and seriously cold!

They had me straddle the operating table like I was on a horse and the kindly male anesthesiology tech held me in a hunched position while the anesthesiologist poked my back twice.  Once the warm sensation hit my toes, I felt much calmer.  "Spinals really are easier and better than epidurals!" I thought.  They laid me back and brought M in.  The feeling they warned me about - like someone was sitting on my chest - was immediately there.  I tried to remember I could breathe deeply, even if it felt like I couldn't.  Still, my voice took on a wheezy quality.  M came in the room and put his cold hands on my forehead, which felt really good and comforting.  (We were both really nervous, but could only voice it to each other afterwards.)

I waded through a strange zone of surreality as I was cut, suctioned, poked and tugged on.  I was there, but not there - sort of like playing Telephone - listening for the doc and nurses to call out their reports: "fluid is clear!" "pressure is good!" and so forth.  All of the sudden, some of the pressure on my chest lightened.

And then, the best sound in the whole entire world: R's cry.  It was strong!  And hearty!  Tears of absolute relief flooded my own eyes and salt rivulets ran down toward my ears.  I knew then she would be ok.  I saw as they lifted her up on their way past me.  She was tiny!  (C was 8.5 lbs; A was 7.6 lbs; R was only 5.9 lbs!) My hearing shifted focus and I began listening very closely to what was going on to my left, rather than what was happening below my waist.

The neonatologist - a female Asian doctor who immediately struck me as a straight talker - was at my head within minutes, telling me baby R was crying well and that if we can get her eating, she might be able to be in NICU only a short time, that she seems fine in every other way other than the expected contractures in her limbs. 

And then, she was there for me to touch and see and kiss.

I got a few more kisses in before they took her away again.  Then, I closed my eyes and rested while they finished sewing me back up. 

In recovery, I heard a new momma with her new baby immediately across from me.  In the haze of fatigue and drugs, I would hear that baby cry and my mind would panic "my baby! my baby!" and I kept telling myself, "She's here.  She's safe! She's here. She's safe."  I prayed prayers of gratitude for the blessing of having a healthy baby girl, of having prayers of faith uttered by myself and others be answered so generously.

Then, I started to try to move my legs.  They were like stone.  I wanted them to move, was willing them to move and they would not move.  So different from an epidural. Let it be said that I don't ever want to have a spinal injury!  But those moments in recovery have made me understand what it must be like for our girl.  It is very frustrating to not be able to move your body the way you want to!

Wednesday was dedicated mostly to recovery, and a quick visit upstairs to visit my baby.  Thursday was visitors, then IV removal, a shower, and getting over to NICU to see my girl.  I first saw the neonatologist, who said that several tests still needed to be cleared, and explained what would happen next.  I saw the hospital caseworker, the neurosurgeon, the physical therapist.  I was told about state programs, I saw a few of the 212 images they took of her head and was told she was fine neurologically, and we were shown how to do some stretches and given a car bed to take her home in.

I was so very grateful for visitors who came to see me at the hospital.  It was a lonely prospect to have just had a baby and not have her there with me, and to have M's time dedicated to caring for our boys and providing as much normalcy for them as possible at home.  And when I felt the loneliest - on Thursday night, after M and the kids left and I was in too much pain to get back to my girl by myself - I sent out text messages from the confines of my bed.

I rectified my loneliness by spending all of Friday morning holding, feeding and changing my baby girl by her NICU bedside.  In the "quiet" of those hours, I had several more opportunities to feel supremely grateful.  One of those was when I heard a momma across the way feeding her baby through a g-tube as I fed my baby by bottle.  That was a very distinct possibility for us and I felt very grateful that we were not on that path, but my heart broke for that momma.

On Saturday, we got to come home!  We got discharged pretty much simultaneously, and visiting family drove us home while M finished purchasing a minivan that could accommodate a car bed, a convertible car seat and a booster seat.  In those first few moments and days at home, I would just stand there, looking over this baby girl in awe and say to M, "I am so grateful.  I am so grateful!"

And so we all are.  (C keeps thanking me for his baby sister and both C and A kiss her every chance they get!)

~Nichole