Friday morning at 5:00a.m. we went in for our scheduled baby surgery. I couldn’t believe the difference from an emergency c-section- The staff was so laid back, we actually filled out paperwork before the birth, and I met the Anesthesiologist and OR Nurses before I was sitting in the operating room. When the Anesthesiologist tried to “review” what would take place, I plugged my ears and said “Don’t tell me anything!” As I became more and more nervous, I voiced that I missed my rushed, no-time-to-think-about-details emergency we had with our previous boys.
Brett kindly reminded me that this time we were trauma-free and could just enjoy this baby...
The surgery went well and they pulled the baby out with seemingly no problems. He had a really strong cry for about 2 seconds, then stopped abruptly. The nurse held him up to me as she whisked him away and Brett jumped up to follow.
I stayed behind to be put back together. When my cute nurse came back in to ask me how I was doing, I could see something was wrong by the look in her eyes. “What’s going on? Is the baby ok?”
I started freaking out a little when she answered, “Um… he’s just having a hard time breathing- but they’ll help him out, it’ll be all right.” She smiled and I started freaking out a lot.
“Well, whatever is happening out there, I’ll be devastated if he doesn’t live!” I exclaimed rather loudly. (I know, a little over the top! I blame it on the drugs and the fact that I was sitting there helpless with my guts cut open).
My doctor, who was in an in-depth conversation about kidney stones, stopped short. (Yes, even though you’re numb to pain , you can still feel pressure.) “What in the world? What are you talking about, Sarah?”
“Nobody will tell me what’s happening, so I’m just saying…” I replied as the nurse cut in.
“Oh, they’re just giving him some oxygen.” My doctor proceeded to tell me he had a strong cry at first, so he’d be fine, then resumed talking about kidney stones.
After they finished stitching me up, they rolled me into the recovery room. Brett came in and stated “They were just doing CPR on him and now they’re taking him to the NICU.”
WHAT? My only full-term baby ever, who was supposed to be the healthiest of all was headed to the NICU? I sat there in shock.
Brett was obviously worried about me, but I sent him back over to see what was going on. He kept asking the nurses if the baby was okay and they were very vague with him. When he asked if it was serious, one nurse replied, "Yeah, it was pretty serious there for a minute."
I can't even begin to say how thankful I am to the nurses who went right to work on resuscitating him. I thank the Lord for those four women who I've never seen that saved my baby's life...
Needless to say, we had a rough start with this little guy. Friday was a long day. They kindly rolled me past him on the way to my recovery room, then told me that was all I'd be seeing until I could stand up and get myself into a wheelchair.
Poor Brett was back and forth all day, trying to keep me calm, and trying to figure out everything that was going on with the baby. Finally, at 6:00 that evening, Brett wheeled me down to the NICU to see my sweet little boy!
At first, we couldn't touch him because he was sleeping. It was heartbreaking to see him all hooked up to the little machines, unable to breathe on his own. When we went back at 8:00 (the NICU is closed from 6:30-8- you can imagine who was always waiting at the door, promptly at 8) we were finally able to hold him!
The nurse told us he'd be much more likely to get out of the NICU if he could get off the oxygen and breathe on his own. I told him to "get breathing for me," and then we left.
The nurse told me later that within minutes his little hands reached up, grabbed his oxygen tube, and pulled it out! She couldn't believe it and said that "if he can pull out his own oxygen he must not need it." From that point on, they nicknamed him "Thor" and he's been breathing on his own ever since :)
We spent the rest of the weekend visiting him as they continued to monitor his breathing. We would find ourselves starting to complain about how annoying all the wires and cords were, but then, all we'd have to do was look around and see "true" NICU babies and their parents, and our hearts were grateful we at least had an end in sight. Finally, Monday came and he was released to "room in" with me for the night.
The boys were so excited! They had been waiting all weekend to see him. (Friday morning they woke my parents up at 4:15 a.m. asking, "Has the baby come out yet?" They were then devastated to find out kids were not allowed in the NICU).
It was a happy moment when they could finally meet him.
And a very happy moment for all of us when we were able to take him home Tuesday morning.
Now, the challenge is to protect him from his well-meaning older brother...
I've learned a lot from this experience. Mainly, I'm regretful for all the protesting my heart has been full of since December. (Believe me, I'll NEVER whine about the opportunity and gift of a healthy baby again- girl or boy...) And maybe now I'll stop trying to control what is out of my hands- Thank Heavens this baby didn't come early like he was "supposed to!"
Most of all, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for all my guys. I'm thankful my Heavenly Father knows better than I about what's best for me. Look at those faces! Who could ask for anything more?
