Ready or not: here I come

The next morning I told Zane it was silly for him to miss work just to watch me lay there for three days, so off he went. I spent the morning having a stress test done. I needed to use the bathroom but they said it would be easier to get the pictures if my bladder was full so they asked me to wait.

Upstairs, the nurse finished the ultra sound, said the doctor wanted to see me, and left the room. A half an hour later another nurse entered, did the same test, said she wanted the doctors opinion, and left. I laid there for over an hour- still having to pee. Finally, another nurse came through the door in a panic. "Oh there you are! We've been searching the entire hospital for you."

What? They lost me?! No wonder I had been left there so long. I asked the nurse why the first two nurses didn't tell her where I was and she said, "Oh, they're both at lunch." Again, What!?! They just went to lunch and left me there?! I was extremely irritated.

Back in my room, I laid there for another two hours. Great, I thought, I've been forgotten again. Finally, my doctor showed up with the results. He explained that the baby had stopped getting any nutrients and had actually lost weight from the ultra sound performed two days before. They needed to take him immediately so that he could continue to grow.

"I know this isn't what you had in mind, but we did give you both the steroid shots which will help with his lungs. We have every reason to believe everything else is developed and should be just fine." He said that the baby didn't seem to be under too much distress so they were going to induce me and just watch his levels. He explained that I needed to be mentally prepared for a c-section since it was very likely that labor would be too much for the baby to handle.

Up to this point I hadn't been really impressed with the man. He didn't necessarily do anything wrong, I just didn't love the guy. He was distant and I felt like I was just a number. As he told me the test results, that changed. He sat with me, he held my hand, and he let me cry.

A specialist from the NICU came in and talked about what to expect with a preemie baby. My mind was reeling. A week ago I had thought I still had nearly two months till baby. Three weeks, two days, now. Each time the news came I had to completely readjust my mindset. I was terrified; I felt completely unprepared.

As the nurse talked about the possibilities of his lungs collapsing, his eyes being damaged by the oxygen he would need, his small size (3 lbs. 5 oz), and other trials that I would need to be prepared for, I just cried. She asked if I was okay and if I had questions. I remember looking at her like those where the silliest questions in the world. What choice did I have? I had to be okay. What questions should I ask? I was still trying to process what was happening- my baby was coming and neither of us was ready for it.

I kept thinking of my mom telling me how she regretted not holding my older brother when he was born. She had said that the nurses had been so insistent on caring for him that he was gone before she got to hold him. This was my biggest fear. If my baby was going to die, I wanted to hold him first. I wanted to bond with my baby before he was gone. The nurse assured me that they would definitely hand him to me first if that’s what I wanted. She urged me to speak up and not be afraid to tell the doctors and nurses what I wanted.

I called Zane and told him we were having the baby. They expected that since my body wasn't ready to have the baby I would be in labor a long time. The doctor said that the earliest he expected me to deliver was the next morning. They started me on some pill that was supposed to soften the cervix and Zane called all of the family members to let them know baby was on his way.

Karen and the cop were there within a couple of hours. Mike and Tammie left immediately. Mom wanted to be able to stay and help out for a few days so she ran around convincing her professors to let her miss a week of classes. She didn't make it on the road until about 6 pm.

Meanwhile, I was reacting extremely well to the medication and was experiencing labor. I thought I still had at least a month so I hadn't taken any birthing classes and had absolutely no idea what to expect. I started freaking out and called my sister Lacie to have her walk me through it. I wanted to know what I was in for and knew she wouldn't sugar coat anything.

As the pain progressed I wanted my mom. I kept calling and calling, but her phone was at home and she was still on campus. I could tell that I was moving a lot faster than they had told me I would and I started to worry that she wouldn’t make it in time.

Around six another doctor came in and explained that the baby was in distress and they were going to do an emergency c-section. My doctor had gone home thinking it would be morning before I delivered so we had to wait for him to get back. No one had even checked me so I finally said something. He was shocked at how well I had progressed in just the four hours since receiving the pill, but said I was still too tight and the baby needed to come fast.

The c-section was awful. My body was so cold and I couldn't stop shaking. Zane was so cute to sit and hold my hand. I begged him to keep talking to keep my mind busy. It was so hard to just lay there and feel helpless- I wanted to be doing something, anything. I kept thrashing my head back and forth.

Cute Zane just kept talking. At one point I realized he was talking about finances and insurance and I wanted to get mad at him for thinking of those at a time like this. But then it hit me: he didn't know what to talk about either. I had asked him to keep talking so he was saying whatever came to mind.

The doctors acted so casual, discussing their weekend plans as they worked. I listened, glad for something to focus on and think about. Every once in awhile they would say something related to the surgery like, "Oh wow, look how thin the cervix is. Those pills worked really fast," or, "Sara, I think I broke the staple gun. Can you find me a new one?"

Each time my mind would go crazy and I'd think something like, "Oh my gosh, they're stapling me?!" The worst was when blood would splatter on the curtain in front of my face. Poor Zane; I bet that was hard for him too. Doctors: if you are going to leave patients conscious during such a mentally traumatic experience, the least you can do is give them a math problem or riddle to solve so their mind is busy.

I’ve always hated the feeling of being numb and the spinal block was the pits. Whenever I’ve been numbed at the doctor’s office, it takes forever to kick in. They usually have to give me five shots and then they still start drilling before I’m completely numb. I was terrified that my body would react similar and I would feel it when they started cutting. Luckily the only thing I could feel was my skin being tugged. It was all a mentally exhausting experience.

When the baby was taken out they told Zane to stand up so he could see the baby as it was whisked away. Zane said, “Weird. He looks like a shriveled little blueberry.” The doctors then all commented on how good it was that he cried when they cleaned out his throat and that he had lots of energy (flinging his arms). I thought of my concern to hold him before they took him away, but I was in such anxiety that I didn’t want to hold him when I was feeling like that. For a moment, I wasn’t sure what to do. Then suddenly, I knew it was okay. I could let him go and everything would be okay. I felt so calm and peaceful.

As soon as the surgery was over they wheeled me back in to my room. Mom still wasn’t there. My Aunt Calleen had come. I had tons of energy and we all laughed and told stories about how men and women are so different. I was so glad they were all there. I felt so overcome with gratitude for the people that loved me enough to drop everything and be there- for me.They then wheeled my bed into the NICU and I was able to see my baby for the first time, but I couldn’t touch him. He was covered in so many tubes and wires I couldn’t even tell what he looked like.

They moved me to a room upstairs where I would stay for the next four days and I fell right to sleep. I woke up when mom came in the room around eleven, hugged her, cried and told her how scared I had been without her there, and then fell back to sleep.