I have to document the month of December some how. How do I even begin to start really? Do I remember it all? Not really. Truthfully. But, I know it started out with the Dr. telling me I needed to take it easy and go on bedrest for a while. All while my pregnant body was around 35 weeks pregnant with my son. I started to slow down. I remember going to the gym with my daughter, thinking to myself…I am crazy for even taking her here, but I didn’t want to miss a beat with her and deep down inside me, I had this feeling she might get dissappointed with her mommy. After this gym class was my Drs. appointment and it all went downhill from there.
So instead of boring myself with the not so interesting details of what I did while on bed rest, it is better for me focus on how much I struggled with people helping me! Goodness. Why is it that us as women have a hard time accepting help. I am sure there are some women who don’t mind it. I am convinced those are the women that have the love language of service. Not me. I hated being served. I hated the fact that someone had to come help me with Paige every day. She is a very easy kid, in my opinion to take care of, but it killed me every time she would say “Mama” and point to where she wanted to go. For those of you that don’t know my daughter very well…she is a “go, go, go” girl. Basically, me. She can’t sit still, she wants new things, she does NOT like being confined to any one location for any length of time. Although, home is her safe haven, she really doesn’t like being there for any length of time. So…although, the girl was never deprived, the fact that we were in one location all the time, with someone else taking care of her, but me across the room or upstairs, was very frustrating for her. Probably more frustrating for me than her.
Soon after this bedrest phase I was put in the hospital for evaluation. Mostly my blood pressure spiking and these massive migrane headaches that did nothing but linger and put me in bed with no light, no noise, no nothing! And…they came on with no warning, and almost instantaneous. Instead of labor…I had headaches! And, no medication would kill it! They finally found some medication that would work for me, but that only lasted a little while. It did help keep my blood pressure down I remember.
I went back the following week for an evaluation and my blood pressure was up again…not within totally dangerous mode, which is typically an immediate delivery or c-section, but more on the border-line nervous side, that my Dr. was afraid, if it went downhill, it would go down hill fast. So after an exam with my perinatologist, who gave the OK for an early delivery, my Dr. scheduled my delivery. I remember hearing the process. Put me in on Thursday, give me something to thin out my cervix a bit. I was only 1cm dialated, so I needed some help. He decided on no pitocin, as he wanted to see if that “help” would do the trick. And…it did. My contractions became more, and more intense slowly through the night. I was still doing ok. Blood pressure was good. Heartbeat of the baby was great. I knew though that at 5am if I had not progressed or dialated on my own they were going to give me a low dose of pitocin. And…it so happened that 5am approached and they did have to do that.
But…you see, I am a smart yet admittingly selfish woman, who decided that pain was not in the cards for me, so I asked for my epidural before they put me on pitocin. You see, after having a couple of babies, and truthfully even small pains…I am convinced that pain medications are meant to be used! There are those tough women who don’t use them, but I am not one of them. I am under the school of thought that you get it BEFORE you even feel pain. So, that is what I did. Dr. came and broke my bag of water around 6am and we would see how long I progressed.
There are two distinct moments that I remember in the delivery room. One when I looked over at my husband and it dawned on me that he had been sleeping soundly since 10pm that night! He never sleeps soundly. And, he was sleeping through everything. The second distinct moment was in the early morning…around 4am when they were going to give me the epidural we took bets on when I would deliver. My guess was “exactly the same time when Paige was born”. I told them, it wouldn’t be long. They laughed or thought I was WAY off or maybe they just thought the drugs were kicking in.
And…as the story continues I was dialated around 10am at 4cm. My epidural slipped soon after – and I was asking my nurse why I was feeling so much pain! I gripped the bed rail to its death! I’m surprised it is still there. 20 minutes later, 4 pushes, and tons of people involved, he was born! 12/18/2009! The son that I had dreamed about for 2 years, was here! As I pushed, I cried, especially as I watched him exit my body through a mirror that was held up so that I could see the miracle of birth that God graciously gives us. It was a beautiful sight. One that I will never forget. As the head slowly came out and I was pushing, I was overwhelmed with hormones and emotions that are so deep I could never write them down. But…I knew at that moment that I loved this human being more than I loved myself. Then, they put him on my chest, I held him close, stroked his back, heard his cry, watched his expressions, and then they carried him off to get clean, weighed and measured.
I finally go to hold my boy…grunting – they got him naked and put him on me to regulate his body – they then gave him a bath – he started to calm down – they handed him off to me, then to my husband, then to my mother and then to my step-dad – then we noticed his face turning blue! They called in NICU – evaluated him, put him on oxygen and then whisped him away! I don’t remember much after this except that I expected him to have a low surfactant due to his age. So, I didn’t think too much of it. I was surprisingly calm.
That night I stayed in the recovery room by myself . Wayne was staying with Paige that evening. I just needed sleep, so I knew it would be best for Paige to see her Daddy and for me to be in the hospital resting. The following morning early…I get a call from the NICU with news that my son’s lung collappsed and they needed to do a procedure on him. I mean, when the Dr. actually comes in to talk to you..I thought my son died that night, and I wasn’t there beside him! Thankfully, he was alive, but in critical condition. They called me after the procedure and I waited for Wayne to get to the hospital and we went together to see him immediately following the procedure. He was in the back of the NICU – which I don’t know how other NICU are setup, but this one is setup to where if you are in the back…you are VERY critical and the more you move up, the less critical you are. You can’t really touch the babies because stimulation made the respitory rate go up, which the goal was for it to go down. We just stood there and watched! It sucked.
I’ll be honest here and say that after I left that first time, I felt as if it was my fault he was in there! I mean, if I was able to hold off several more days of pregnancy…if only. We will never know, but I felt like a bad mother! The worse kind. The kind of mother that puts their kids in harms way! The only thing I could do to help his little body was pump milk so that when he was able to eat, he could have the collostrum that helps build his immune system. So, that is what I did. While Wayne took care of our daughter at home, I was at the hospital pumping and delivering the only thing I could do to help him.
Zach was in the NICU for 8 days. A miraculous recovery! They told me 14! After chest tubes, feeding tubes, all kinds of monitors, he turned out just great! His lungs are great! We picked him up one day after Christmas and it just so happened that day, kids were allowed in the hospital floors. So, we brought Paige up to meet her brother!
He is home now…lungs working GREAT! Too much sometimes! 
But, more than ever do I appreciate the talent that God gives people. Besides answered prayers. Here was my life lesson throughout this process. God instills in us these talents, gifts, whatever you want to call them, and unless you are using them, they are useless! And, I realized, the fact that they are using them (whether to serve God or not) they are doing what they were created to do! Now, I might could be a little introspective here, but I am not going to go that route, because I haven’t really had time to think through my talents and where I could be using them in this world. But…it does point to my learning process in this.
I am ever so grateful my son is home and safe! I’ll write how things are going in another journal! But, he was our extra present under the tree this Christmas! And…that has been my December!
