I could not breathe, things did not feel right. Scared, I knew I had to get to the hospital.
The hospitals shocking bright lights at 12 am were an intruder. I remember panic from those around me, still not sure myself what was wrong. This was my first pregnancy, everything was so foreign to me.
Surrounded by nurses, doctors, invasive needles and drugs running through my system I had never experienced before. My husband by my side, assuring me all was going to be okay,
when both of us really did not know that for sure. I was 27 weeks, not quite to my 3rd trimester and all I knew was that I couldn't breathe and they kept administering more drugs to my system that seemed to help slightly, but never quite the solution.
" We must send her to Johns Hopkins, they can handle the situation better there."
What situation I thought to myself. At this point I was so drugged up with magnesium, I really wasn't very coherent of much that was going on.
The trip in the ambulance seemed forever, rolled out of the back and pushed down a very dingy dark hallway.
Where was Bruce? Although he had told me he was going to follow, I didn't remember, I was so out of it. Through some doors, more intrusive bright lights, more nurses, more doctors, no one telling me clearly what was going on, but I felt the urgency around me. Monitors everywhere to check the baby's heartbeat, more needles and now a massive headache because I had lost my glasses somewhere along the way.
Alone for while, Bruce finally came through the door and eventually my family, I could see from the look in their eyes that things did not look good. It was a nightmare, I didn't feel like myself, the headache grew worse and the continual interruptions made it worse. I tried to sleep, but there was no rest in this situation.
For what seemed like eternity, I lay in misery, not knowing what would happen next.
He walked through the door, a young guy, to deliver the news that they had to deliver the baby for the safety of both of us. My mom started to ask him all the questions I wanted to but could not formulate. My thought was,
How can I push, I am so weak and tired?
I was wheeled off to an even brighter room for the epidural, so thankful that I now found Bruce by my side once again. Not knowing what lay ahead or what the next three months would be, I fell asleep on the table.
Waking up, the room was dark, although not completely. Curtains surrounded me and I was alone. There was an absence of life inside of me, I had no idea what was going on.
Was my baby okay? Where was Bruce, my mom? I lay there for what seemed like forever, finally hearing voices, my hopes rose and I looked toward the curtain, waiting it for it to open and see my baby. The curtain did not move, in fact I quickly put together that it was a local news crew interviewing a mom who had just given birth to triplets.
Darkness and sadness enveloped my spirit and I went out again. Finally, Bruce came, a forced smile on his face, I knew that it was for my benefit, but things were not good. Over the next several hours I was in and out of consciousnesses, still no sign of my baby.
Once out of recovery and in another room, Bruce told me that our baby had to go to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit and they were taking care of him there.
What does he look like? Is he okay?
Days passed, finally starting to feel a bit like myself, our parents had gone home, I then realized that everyone had seen my baby before me. This crushed me, it had been well over 24 hours and I had yet to see my baby.
Finally, I was able to get out of bed into a wheel chair, Bruce pushed me down the hallway to the N.I.C.U. Anxiously waiting to see my son.
Will he have hair? How big will he be?
What I saw next, I was not prepared for. There was my baby just over 1 pound, no hair, skin transparent, needles in his skin, wires everywhere, his heart was beating so fast. I just sat there, in complete shock. This was not the way things were to be. I could only sit for so long so Bruce slowly wheeled me back. Crushed, at what was supposed to be a joyous event, now was the tiny life of my baby hanging on for life and me
not knowing if he would live another day.
The next 3 months were a blur. Hours at the hospital, a roller coaster of news from the nurses and doctors, still not knowing if our baby would see another day. Christmas came and what we hoped for, our baby home with us, was shattered. I didn't even want to have Christmas. Each day was a blur, thousands of people praying world-wide for our baby we found out later.
The day finally came January 9th, when we brought our 4 pound son home from the hospital, a true miracle of life, an experience that I will never forget.
THAT is what makes me so grateful each day that I am still carrying my second child and believe that this delivery will be completely different and that joyful experience that I missed 5 years ago.
