The Birth of My Son

Many of us, when we become pregnant, start imagining. What kind of mother we will be, what our new life will look like with the tiny human. But before that, maybe we picture what the delivery experience will be like. In movies, they set the scene with a woman screaming in pain and out pops a baby. But it is so much more than that. It is an experience that we will never forget, it is when we meet the most important person in our life, it is when we become a mother.

So, we plan.

Everyone is different. Whether you want a water birth, a birth center, a hospital, with an epidural, without, a vaginal birth, or C-section. There is no wrong way, but we plan the best way for ourselves. We dream about it, we get excited. So, what happens when nothing goes as planned?

As soon as I became pregnant I began planning my birth experience. After watching countless labor vlogs, I had the perfect picture in my mind of how I wanted to deliver my so into the world. With my husband by my side, and calm music with low lighting, I would push my son out into a warm inviting world. The next hour of his life would be spent skin to skin, and maybe even breastfeeding.

However, that is not at all what happened. At about 31 weeks I went in for a normal checkup, but my blood pressure was high and there was protein in my urine. I knew what that meant but I was sent to a lab for more testing. On Wednesday I went in for testing and by Friday I got the call. I had preeclampsia. A dangerous condition that can cause high blood pressure, kidney and liver failure, and in severe cases seizure, stroke, or death.

On Friday I was told to be on strict bed rest and I was told to come in Monday for a stress test. Some other appointments were made as they wanted to see me twice a week now. So, I thought that would be it. Bed rest and doctors appointments until I was ready to deliver and everything would be fine.

On Sunday I had my husband pack the hospital bag. I honestly did not think we would need it for two months, but I wanted to get it done. By the next day, Monday, I went in for my stress test. They put monitors on my belly to monitor mine and the baby's heart rate. After about twenty minutes the doctor came in. She explained to me that my blood pressure was too high and that I needed to go to the hospital. The doctors voice was warm and reassuring but it didn't stop the panic. I called my husband immediately and told him to grab the hospital bag and come to the hospital right away.

I floated out of the doctors office and to the hospital. I breathlessly told the check in people why I was there. The man that wheeled me to the labor and delivery floor asked how I was doing. I said something along the line of "it could be better". A very friendly nurse met us on the labor floor, I felt like I was going to throw up.

Within the next half hour I was in a room with about five nurses. Putting in my IV, taking my blood pressure, putting in a catheter, and holding my hand through the pain. The IV they put in was giving me magnesium to lower my blood pressure. It made me feel out of it, and like my limbs weighed 100 pounds each. Finally, my husband arrived and we spent the next hours holding hands. My blood pressure was automatically checked by the machine every 20 minutes or so. It would beep to let the nurses know it was high. My urine was collected and my blood was taken every 6 hours. I got 2 shots of steroids 12 hours apart, to help my sons lungs develop a bit more.

By the next day we were told a cesarean section was scheduled for 5pm. At just 32 weeks pregnant I was going to deliver my son via emergency c-section. I was terrified. I never even thought that a c-section would be a possibility. The thought of being cut open was something I was very afraid of. I even asked if they could just knock me out when they did it, but it would be too dangerous to the baby. Someone had said something like "But then you won't be able to see your baby"....

Before the surgery my husband dressed in scrubs, making jokes that he should take his clothes off and just wear the very see through scrubs. Some jokes to ease the worry. At this point we had not cried, the full weight of everything had not hit us yet. Throughout the day, the surgery team and NICU team came in to discuss what would happen, but the magnesium messed with my head and I couldn't focus. Finally the time came and they rolled me to the surgery room. The lights were bright, and my husband had to wait outside until they numbed me. I was laid down and a sheet was put up so I couldn't see my stomach. My arms were strapped down. A nurse stayed by my head to tell me everything that was happening. Three minutes after I received the spinal tap the doctor made a cut. Once they knew I couldn't feel anything they allowed my husband in the room.

There was some pulling and tugging but I did not feel anything else. I didn't feel my son come into the world, I didn't hear him cry. I don't remember how much time passed but they got him out and over to the NICU team. I couldn't see him. I only felt numb.

The NICU team worked fast and they, along with my husband, went with our son back to the NICU. They stapled me up and rolled me back to my room. My husband went back and forth from me to our son. I couldn't go and see him for a few days because my blood pressure was still too high. The reality of everything still had not set in.

Finally I was able to go see him, but we could not hold him yet due to the feeding tube in his bellybutton. He was so tiny, 3 pounds 15 ounces. He did immediately hold my finger in his hand, and finally I cried. He was so tiny, and wrinkled, he seemed so fragile, I was out of my element. We didn't know how to treat our own son, my husband described it as if we were on vacation and going to see some kind of attraction. Our little son, hooked up to tubes and wires, in an incubator, which we called his space ship. We spent the next few days going back and forth from the recovery room to the NICU.

But eventually we had to go home. We had to go home without our baby. It was hard leaving our baby at the hospital the hardest thing we have ever had to do. The next 31 days we were back and forth to the hospital. I spent hours at the hospital, and when I went home I would just cry. There were a lot of ups and downs. He would be taken off oxygen but then have to be put back on. The feeding tube was taken out at one point and had to be put back in. There were x-rays and IVs among other things. We were told sometimes it would be two steps forward and one step back. We had to teach him how to drink from a bottle, he had to learn to breath on his own, and he had to gain weight.

Finally, the day came that we were able to bring him home. 31 days old and 4 pounds 12 ounces. That night I did not sleep at all. He babbled nonsense at me almost like he was trying to tell me about his time away. I was and am so grateful for my son. I am grateful for the wonderful doctors and nurses that saved our lives. But over the next couple months I was filled with grief. I found it hard to see other people pregnant and have healthy babies. My birth experience was obviously nothing like what I had planned along with everything else. And though I am over the moon to have my son, I grieve the experience that I missed. I know other people have had it worse, so much worse, but that doesn't make me feel better. But that is okay.

We as mothers might plan our birth experience. And if it does not go as planned, it is okay. It is okay to feel jealous of other women's experience. It is okay to grieve. What should have been one of the happiest days of my husband and I's life, turned out to be one of the scariest. We went through something traumatic, and I know others have as well. That is why I want mothers to know its okay to be grateful for your child and upset about how your experience went at the same time. It is okay.