Little Baby

Last year, today was actually a Thursday. Isn't it funny what stick with you days, weeks, or months later? Last year, I went to bed and felt really crummy - it was like I had the headache from hell and my whole body just felt wrong. I was 37 weeks pregnant.

As anyone that knows me personally, or through this blog, knows that The Dude was born at 33 weeks. Little baby was our happy accident, and we did everything within medicine to keep that damn baby in. Starting at 20 weeks, I went in for weekly progesterone shots. Starting at 33 weeks, I went in twice a week for Non-stress tests and ultra sounds. My blood pressure has always been my undoing during pregnancy, and this last one was no different... this last pregnancy saw numbers that I had never seen before. Numbers that were uncomfortable at best, and down right scary at the worse.

The Friday I went in for one of two of my nonstress tests, my blood pressure was 160/100. I woke up feeling like I had a hang over, and I knew that once I went in for that NST I would not be leaving. Sure enough, the moment my first number popped up my regular nurse turned white, and excused herself. I called my husband and told him the baby was going to have to come out and to get all the things ready. Like a champ, he obeyed and asked no questions. As I am a model patient, I obeyed my doctor and stayed. I had Sass and Dude with me. They handled it with grace and asked no questions.

An induction from zero is awful, time consuming, and exhausting. People want to know how you are, your nurses fret over you, and your husband hovers in the most adorable way. This is doubly so when you are pre-eclamptic and look like death. The Captain and I waited for seemed like forever... Finally the time came for them to break my water, and wouldn't you know Little Baby's damn cord fell out first. This is called prolapsed cord, and happens 1 to every 300 births - what luck we have, right? Basically the only thing to do is go in immediately, emergency c-section. There is no time for an epidural, there is no time to call anyone, there is only time to get to surgery so the baby does not die. I kissed The Captain, and said, "Call our moms..."

....

I remember being cold. So very cold. My doctor, who is a brilliant man, and my nurse, also utterly brilliant, were busy, busy bees. The person that calmed me was my anesthesiologist - he had these calm, but crisp, eyes over a masked mouth and nose. He made me smile. I can't remember his name. He told me that the one Pringle I confessed to eating would surely not harm me or the baby, and that he promised I would wake up. Promised He said, "Let's count to three together." I said, "Let me take a deep breath first."

1
2
3

...

I had a bad dream while I was asleep. Some people think that when you get wheeled into an emergency c-section, you get to be awake for the cutting and for the baby coming out. That's not actually true. A real emergency c-section means you are going to sleep... like, take a deep breath and count. I dreamed The Dude got hurt and no one was around to help him. When I actually woke up, I tried to sit up and my anesthesiologist and two nurses had to hold me down so I didn't pop any staples. I kept saying, "The baby, the baby..." Everyone tried to assure me Little Baby was fine, and I was trying to tell everyone it wasn't THAT baby I was worried about.

In ICU, I had another fabulous nurse. She said I wouldn't remember her, but I do. She was sweet, and had soft words for me. She told me I would get to see my baby as soon as I would let her give me morphine for the pain. I said I didn't want the morphine because I didn't want to be an addict. She said that because I said that meant that I could have it and it would be okay. I believed her.

Finally, FINALLY, I got to meet Little Baby.

So, so worth the wait. He was a whooping five pounds. 

As The Captain and I were basking in sweet, new, little baby glow, yet another utterly insane thing happened to me. We were well within the "good" time frame, and I started to hemorrhage. As high as my blood pressure was before delivery, it dipped just as low during this episode. I literally saw stars, and remember begging The Captain to please call the nurse. I don't really remember much of this, but I do know it hurt. My belly hurt... even after a c-section they had to massage my belly to try and help. It was awful, and they still couldn't get the bleeding to stop. I remember my nurse saying that this was the last thing to try before I had to go back to surgery... she gave me a shot. I don't know what it was, I don't care what it is called, I don't care what the lasting effects are. I stopped bleeding.

...

 It took another three days for the doctors to even entertain the idea of releasing me. I had to beg and plead and promise and plead and then beg once more. I had to accept a straight Iron transfusion and eat ALL the food. Finally, I got to go home. HOME!!! This last year has been mostly a year of survival for me, and it would not have been possible without a lot of love from my dear, dear, wonderful, spectacular friends, and the most heaven sent husband. 

I love this baby with all my heart. And maybe, because we both almost died, I love him the most. He is the last baby we get to have, because the doctors don't think I would survive another delivery. Birthday's are always so emotional for me, and this is no exception. So here is what I have to say to our sweet Little Baby.

Dearest Robert,

You are joy. You are hope. You are loved. Every hug, every kiss, and every coo melts our hearts. We love that you are brave, messy, but quiet. Your exuberance for living is contagious and on days your bubba is being insane, we need you. In one short year, you have made this family complete. You made us see that until you came blazing into life, we were missing something. It is my great and immense pleasure to get to be your Momma. Please keep enjoying life, learn to stick up to bubba, and keeps that cute growl.

Always your biggest fan,

Momma

  

Happy Birthday, Robert Henry.