One thing that they don't talk about in "What to Expect When Expecting" is all of the heartache that you feel when parenting. When your child gets their heart broken. Or when they are trying to navigate middle school. When they are little and they scrape their knee.
It's awful. The first time that happens, you realize that you are not in control. You show your children, and try to make them believe that you are, in fact, in control. All parents know we are not. Not even a little bit. We struggle and try to gain and keep control while molding our children into good humans but it's a challenge.
Prior to having my first child, I made myself promises. We all do. I will NOT yell at my children like my parents did. My children will know that they can talk to me about anything. We all have these big plans, right? Our child is going to be a genius. They will lead many. The day that I found out I was pregnant with Noah, the joy was unreal. I walked around knowing that we had made a little human. That human was growing in me. My goodness he wore me out. I was exhausted all the time. I would take fifteen minute naps at work and wake up like I had slept for three hours.
On May 18th, I woke up at 2:30am and felt strange. I felt like maybe I had to use the bathroom. I wondered into the bathroom and as soon as I sat down, a gallon (I exaggerate, I think) of water fell into the toilet. I yelled, "Ken.... it's time." He ran into the bathroom. "Are you sure?" I looked at him and said, "Well, a ton of water just errupted into the toilet so I am going to say yes." It was like that scene in Tommy Boy. I would like wings. The fryers are not on, I can't get you wings. But, are you sure? Let me check.... pause for effect.... yep I'm sure.
We drove to the hospital and the realization hit us. "Do you realize that in a couple of hours, we are going to be parents?"
As we were checking in the first contraction hit. I realized at that moment this was gonna hurt. What had I done? I remember being on my first roller coaster and being so excited and nervous. As I started to go over the crest I thought, what the hell am I doing? This is scary. THAT, that is what I felt when that first contraction hit. LET ME OFF THIS RIDE. I CHANGED MY MIND.
As hours went by, the contractions just kept coming but no movement. I walked in the hall and when a contraction hit, I leaned against the wall and thought, I'm not gonna make it. It's funny looking back now, but at the time, it hurt so bad. Someone once told me that it was like the worst gas pains you could ever think of. Remember that pain, now multiply that by 20. Um, bitch, say what?!?!
I was given Petocin to help move things along. My doctor came in and said, "Hi there. I wanted to talk to you. My partners father died two days ago and I have been on call since. I can deliver your baby but I wanted to give you the option to use the mid-wives." I thought to myself, nice mid-wives or a doctor dead on his feet. "The mid-wives are fine. I'm sure everything will be ok. Get some rest!"
When it came time to push I pushed. And pushed. And pushed. Two and a half hours later the mid-wife realized there was a problem. The baby just wasn't coming out. I was given an option. "We can either vacuum him out or do an emergency C-Section." I'm going to pause right here. She should have never given me a choice. I, of course, chose the vacuum. I was going to deliver this baby if it killed me. Little did I know that I was gambling with not just my life, but Noah's as well.
She vacuumed him out and he was white. When I say white, I mean like paper white. His eyes were glassy. I was so in love and so happy. I was also exhausted and not thinking straight. The NICU doctor came in and took one look at Noah and gave the mid-wife a tongue lashing in front of Ken and I. The nurse asked us if we wanted to hold him. I loved on him and then handed him to Ken. The nurse was pacing by him waiting for Noah. Ken turned to the nurse, "Do you need to take him? If you do, please take him." Ken knew. I didn't.
The nurses and the NICU doctor rushed him out. Within a minute, we went from twenty people in the delivery room to Ken, myself and the nurse. It was painfully quiet. She started to push on my belly to get the bleeding to stop. It wouldn't. Ken asked, "Is that normal? That's a lot of blood." She looked at him and said, "No, it's not, She is hemorrhaging."
Ken got white as a ghost. The nurse told him to sit down and put his head between his knees. At the time I thought, "Why is he going to pass out? I'm the one that delivered the baby." Little did I know that the realization was hitting him that he might lose us both. Once the nurse was able to get the bleeding to stop she said she would wheel us to our room. As we went down the hall she said, "Would you like to see your baby?" We both smiled and said, "YES!" As the NICU doors opened I saw a group of hospital workers surrounding a bed. One of them ran to the door and yelled at the nurse, "They cannot be in here right now." Rather forcefully the doors were shut. It was then that I realized that my baby was not ok.
She wheeled us into our room and left. Now it was just Ken and I. I looked at him and said, "I think we should pray." Pray we did. With all of our being.
Noah's arm was up near his neck the entire time that I was trying to deliver him. Each time I pushed, his little head rammed into my pelvic bone. He had swallowed meconium and had sustained head trauma. Weeks later I received an explanation of benefits in the mail that detailed what they were doing. Noah had redlined and they were resuscitating him. Neonatal resuscitation, is what was written. I paused and thanked the Lord that He saved my baby.
The following day I still had not seen him. I wanted to see my baby. My mom and dad came to visit. They brought my niece to the hospital with them. Let me just say, when someone isn't sure that their child is going to live, bringing a baby with you, even one that I loved so much, is not a good idea. At that moment a doctor came in. I remember it vividly. "I need to prepare you. If your baby lives (IF?!?!?!?!), he will more than likely be severely handicapped." She shared this information like she was ordering pizza. Pepperoni and extra cheese, your son might need lifetime support.
My parents made a quick exit and Ken and I were once again alone.
Noah made it through. God healed him and the NICU doctor said that he was a miracle. My baby is now 21 years old. I wish I could say that the challenges stopped there. But they don't. The worry never goes away. The love grows and grows and each time Noah leaves, I pray that God protects him. I've heard it like this, you have your heart but when you have a child, your heart is no longer in your body. They are walking around and you are forever tethered to them.
I'm here to tell you this, every single day is worth it.
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