I don’t think that I will ever forget the words that came out of Nicole’s mouth: “That’s it, you’re done.”
Nicole was the wonderful ultrasound tech that I had been consistently bothering for a few days. I was 36 weeks and 2 days pregnant and for the last month I had had major problems with low fluid levels around the baby to the point where my doctor had decided to send me to the hospital twice a week for fluid measurements and monitoring. That particular day, a Thursday, November 17, 2016, I just had a feeling that something was going to be different. I went to the hospital, was hooked up to the baby monitor for an hour and over that time I slowly realized that my little boy wasn’t as active as he usually was. The head nurse, Julie, came in and looked at my readings and as she did so, I told her that I thought my fluid levels had dropped more. She shook her head and told me to go and see Nicole for my ultrasound. It took Nicole all of two minutes to confirm what I had already thought- my fluid levels were nearly non-existent and because of that, my son’s activity level had also dropped drastically.
I immediately texted my fiancé and told me to take our oldest son to my parent’s house and that he needed to get down to the hospital now. By the time he got there, the decision had been made by my doctor and the high risk pregnancy doctor that when the next operating room was available, I was having my son via c-section. It would be my second c-section and at that point with the potential danger to the baby I was ready for that type of delivery.
The decision to deliver me that day was made at 10AM, by 12:50pm my beautiful little boy was born as his Daddy smiled proudly and Mommy cried with happiness. He instantly cried which was a huge relief to Mommy and Daddy and was immediately surrounded by the NICU team which had been called due to the fact that he was still 5 days short of being considered full term. As I strained to hear what the doctors were saying, I heard one of the nurses ask if he was going to be taken to the NICU to which the doctor shook his head yes. I knew this was a possibility but my heart still ached. I had just carried this little person inside of me for 9 months- I wanted to hold him. If I could just hold him I knew he would be okay- right? My common sense suddenly kicked in and I told myself this is what I prepared for- he needed to go and get strong and better. A million more thoughts raced through my mind at that point and the realization that due to the fact that he was going to the NICU, I would not be able to hold him until at least tomorrow as I would not be allowed to get out of bed until that point. I cried more. Twenty minutes later, as my doctor was still working to finish my surgery, they took my 5lb, 15oz, 17 ¾ inch little boy away.
As a parent and as a person, this was one of the hardest moments in my life. My oldest son had been taken to the NICU roughly twelve hours after he was born for low blood sugar. It scared me but it prepared me to deal with this second round of NICU turmoil. This time around was different though- my youngest had had problems breathing when he was born to the point where he was blue. I couldn’t physically be there for him and with him as I could with my oldest. It hurt physically and emotionally more than I could explain. To compound things, there had been complications with my c-section. Due to a large amount of scar tissue from my first c-section, I had bled more than I should have during surgery to the point where my temperature dropped to 96.7. The nurses piled 7 warm blankets on top of me and my doctor was about a half hour away from giving me a blood transfusion.
As I sit here reflecting on November 17, three weeks have now gone by. My oldest son is playing with a new motorcycle toy that his father got for him and as I type this I am rocking my youngest son to sleep with my foot. I am a lucky mother, my youngest spent 6 days in the NICU learning to breath and eat and came home the day before Thanksgiving. People say that mothers are innately strong without knowing it. The short answer? When you become a mother- a REAL mother- your kids matter to you more than anything else. They are your strength and they are your reason for life. You fight to make yourself better for them. The experience I had with both of my pregnancies I will never ever forget. They shaped me to make me not only the mother I am but the person that I am and for that I am thankful.
