The Day You Were Born

It has now been a whole year since our little man was born. Wow. I can’t believe the days, weeks and months have passed so fast. I often think back to that day – to those days leading up to that day. As it happened before Rachel was born, I got put on bed rest again towards the end of my pregnancy b/c of my blood pressure. I had family here to help me (and Rachel) the week before he was born. Michael was out of town for the weekend. Everything was going fine. Michael came home on Monday night. We finally decided on the name for little man on Wednesday (just in the nick of time, I’d say!). We were still telling Rachel we didn’t know exactly when her little brother would be born – just that it would be soon.

Saturday morning we woke up early – my blood pressure was the highest it had been. That day I was exactly 37 weeks. We called the on-call midwife and she said to head on to the hospital to be monitored. If it went down, they’d send me home…If not, we’d have a baby today. WHAT? Seriously? We kicked it into high gear. Michael called his parents early and woke them up – so they could head on over and keep Rachel for us. I woke Rachel up and tried my best to explain to her what was going on…which freaked her out a little. She wanted to come with me (as she always does). We were pretty sure they would get my BP down and we’d be back home. It took a couple of hours for us to finally get out of the house – we had to hurriedly pack – just in case we ended up staying. I left my baby girl that morning just as I did every day – as if it was any other day and that I would be back or see her in a little bit.

We got to the hospital and they hooked me up to everything and began monitoring me. Of course my BP was fine by then… Michael and I spent the whole day in the little room by ourselves watching TV and the monitors. We kept waiting on them to tell us we could go home. I was starving (knowing there was the possibility of having a c-section that day (I already knew it would be a c-section), they wouldn’t let me eat anything at all – only ice chips). I was uncomfortable – 37 weeks pregnant and in a hospital bed all day long. We were antsy – just trying to reach family members and keep them informed. We kept telling my dad that we thought we’d be going home so he didn’t need to get on the road. Michael’s parents had taken Rachel over to their house by now so that she could take a nap. They didn’t stop by the hospital – no one thought there was a need to.

We eventually found out that I was having contractions (seems like it would be obvious, huh?)… they weren’t strong contractions and combine that with the fact that I’ve never labored before, I didn’t know that’s what I was feeling. But contractions they were. And they were regular. Every 3ish minutes. They tried to stop them with something in an IV… We still thought we’d be heading out that night.

At about 4:00 (maybe 4:30), the midwife and the on-call doctor came in and talked to us. They said that I was a ticking time bomb and since I had reached 37 weeks, they would just go ahead and do it that evening – otherwise I’d probably be back the next day or the next. That was it. I was going to have a baby that evening. The surgery was scheduled for 5:30. Seriously - in an hour!?! I was so emotional. We were in serious go mode at that point. Calling my dad and saying “LEAVE NOW!” and calling everyone else in the family. Rachel was still napping at that time and there was no way they would be able to get to the hospital in time to see us before the surgery. And it would be a couple of hours after the surgery before anyone else would be able to see the baby so there was no sense in the in-town family heading over just yet. Emotions were running high. Nurses and hospital staff were in and out of the room – prepping me for surgery, giving me the epidural (Whoa! That’s a story in itself!), and all of that.

Looking back on it all, I so wish I could have handled that day differently – if nothing else than for Rachel. I know she doesn’t think anything about it, but I do. I wish I could have spent more time with her that day. I wish I could have given her one last hug and kiss and let her know that her brother was about to be born. I wish it could have been different. I know we didn’t know ahead of time and we did what we could and that she doesn’t think like that or remember it like that… But still – I do.

Back to the story…

When the anesthesiologist was giving me the epidural, he kept asking if I could feel any pain. At one point I did and tried to explain it to him. So, they did a couple of things and gave me a little bit more – as it turns out, we believe they gave me 1.5 the dosage as normal. Eventually it was go time. I was prepped and ready. Michael was suited up. We began the journey through the hospital halls to the OR. Something felt weird to me. I was lying flat (as I was already numb) – and I couldn’t swallow right. I kept trying and it just didn’t feel right. I mentioned it to the lady that was walking with me – the one that would be sitting up by my head the whole time. She said that was normal and not to worry about it. I tried…really I tried not to worry about it. They get me into the OR and hoist me over to the table (again, I can’t move if I tried). They are starting to get me set up for it all and I’m starting to freak out. I can’t swallow. I’m lying flat on my back and I can’t swallow – my saliva gets half way down the back of my throat and I can’t make it go the rest of the way down. I keep trying and nothing. I keep telling the lady – “I can’t swallow”…here’s a little of our conversation:

Me: I can’t swallow…I can’t get it all the way down.

Her: It’s okay. You are fine. Your oxygen level is fine and the fact that you are talking to me tells me you are okay.

Me: But I can’t swallow, something is wrong.

Her: Try to calm down and relax – you are okay. Nothing is wrong. I know it’s weird but it’s okay.

Me: (Really panicking by this point) But I CAN’T SWALLOW! I want to throw up.

Her: It’s okay – let me know if you really need to.

Me: I want to swallow. I want to throw up. I want to go to sleep.

Her: Okay, go to sleep, that will be fine.

Me: But what if something happens while I’m asleep?!?

Her: What is going to happen will happen if you’re asleep or not…

Me: But I can’t go to sleep if something happens I would miss it. I really need to swallow…(this continued on for what seemed to me like a long time…)

Then, magically Michael appeared beside me. They brought him in earlier than normal b/c of me panicking. He started talking to me and with me talking to him I stopped trying to swallow as much. Then I could tell they were getting close to the baby being out so I was paying attention to that… then I tried to swallow and it barely worked. Then he was out! Jackson was born! They carried him over and put him under the lamp and did their normal stuff. Michael walked over and was involved in it. I was watching from the table while they put me back together. Michael brought our tightly swaddled little baby over to me so I could see his sweet little face. We took our first picture together. Then Michael left with the nurse and Jackson and I continued to lay there on my back…just thinking about it all. I had a new baby boy. Wow! It had all happened so fast.

I get to recovery and everything was pretty much as it should be. They were watching Jackson b/c his cry wasn’t as strong as it should be at first, but she was able to get a few loud ones out of him as she gave him his bath. I was still flat on my back and numb as could be. Every once in a while, the nurse would come over and check on me. She’d ask if I could move my toes – nope. Not at all. I couldn’t hold Jackson b/c I was still lying flat and wasn’t sure of my arms even. I just watched. A couple of times, the nurse would come over and move my legs. All of a sudden I would see a leg folded up beside me – I swear it was like a prosthetic leg had been placed there b/c I had no feeling at all of my leg being moved up. So weird! We are there for an hour or so – maybe longer than that. Other families are coming and leaving to go to their own rooms. At one point, when everyone else has gone, I hear the nurse in the recovery room call someone on the phone and ask if it’s okay that she release me – even though I haven’t even started to get the feeling back in my legs. Thankfully whoever it was said that was okay. I could go up to my room. I still couldn’t even feel my toes. Remember the epidural they gave me? The 1.5 dose that I got? I’m pretty sure that caused all of this – the not being able to swallow, the numbness for hours later…

So, we headed up to our room. Again, I’m rolling through the hospital hallways flat on my back. Still haven’t held my new baby. They get me hoisted into my bed in the new (tiny) room. But something isn’t right with the bed. All I wanted to do was be able to sit up a little bit so I wasn’t staring at the ceiling. The bed wouldn’t sit up at all. I was still forced to lie like that. They were working on it though. All of our family had been at the hospital for a while by now. It was at least 9:00 at night. Rachel is usually in bed asleep by this point. Michael and I really wanted her to be the first one to see Jackson – her new baby brother. So she gets brought in our room, goes over to the bench and sits down with Michael and sees her new brother for the first time...with just the four of us in there. That was nice and sweet. I tried my best to get pictures of that – from lying on my back. Then the rush of people started coming in – in and out of this tiny room. Thank goodness for all of our family though b/c of instead of just finding me a new bed, they found me a new room! A corner room – much bigger than the first. (And this was the same room that Toni Braxton had stayed in when she delivered her baby! Who knew?) (Oh, and if you’re curious as to what Toni Braxton sings, just ask Constance…she can sing it for you! Ha!!) They get us switched to the new room and the new bed works! Praise the Lord!! I can now sit up in my bed. And guess what? I can just barely start to feel and wiggle a couple of toes!!! Yay! Over the next hour or two, the feeling in my legs came back. I finally got to hold my new, sweet, precious baby boy. Rachel wanted to sit with me in my bed and that was just fine. My baby girl had just become a big sister. After 10:00 the family started to leave and I got to try nursing him for the first time. He was so sweet.

Michael and I had learned the hard way when Rachel was born and we thought we needed to keep her in the room with us all night long. Not so much this time around. We did everything we needed to do and then let the wonderful nurses take him to the nursery for the night. And we slept. All night long (or as much as you can with nurses having to take your blood pressure and temperature and give you pain meds throughout the night). And we got him back first thing in the morning. My nurse came in very early the next morning and helped me get up for the very first time – oh the pain… but I did it. And it got easier from there.

Rachel came to visit us in the hospital each day (we were there for 4 days). She loved seeing her brother and sitting with mommy. She is a mommy’s girl – always has been. And she’s a great big sister – so motherly.

Even though the day Jackson was born wasn’t what we expected or when we expected or how we expected it to go, it went. It happened. There’s nothing that we can change. I cannot believe that was a whole year ago and that my sweet 8 lb. 6 oz. baby (at 3 weeks early!) is now about 25 pounds, almost walking, getting into everything, has the cutest curly hair and is so strong! I love you, Jackson, with all of my heart. I can’t wait to see what the next years bring.