We had done it. We had our baby boy.
And with that, the adrenaline was still pumping. Joe was over photographing Owen and bringing the news to the expectant family in the waiting room.We had kicked everyone out, even my dear mommy, because I didn't want them to have to worry while labor was not going so well. I was cracking jokes with the nurses saying I earned me a Sonic drink for sure, so on and so forth.
Then, the bottom fell out. While my doctor was finishing up with me, I began to shake uncontrollably. I was told this was normal, but it didn't feel normal. I began to get freezing cold chills. I swear I asked them to turn up the temperature, but I don't think anyone heard me. I did not feel good.
As the nurses brought back Owen, Joe and family also came. While some Oooed and Aaahhed over our newest family member, my mom and dad and Joe came right over to me. You see, I matched my sheets. I was white as a ghost. I felt horrible. I had lost a lot of blood and fluid.
I was down for the count.
Usually they move you to a postpartum room after about an hour of delivery. I got special permission to camp out for several hours. So while my family continued to look after Owen, I continued to try to feel better. I was offered several times to take a blood transfusion, but decided we'd wing it and just stick with the extra fluids at this point. Around shift change that night, I was finally rolled down IN THE BED to my postpartum room. They do not do this, you either walk or take a wheel chair. See, told you I had issues.
That night, we had Owen room in with us. I was told not to get up under any circumstances, and I received a nifty "fall risk" hospital bracelet. Joe and I were a bundle of nerves. He got up every 2 hrs or so to change O'Bear's diapers and hand him to me to 'try' to feed. It was a long night, with my nurses coming in to check on me, Owen's nurse to check on him...all the while still feeling puny and Joe exhausted.
But we made it to the morning. A hearing test tech came down to escort Owen back to the nursery for his morning assessment by the nurses and to receive his hearing test. So we said so long to the little man, and waited for family to arrive.
After a little over an hour, we were still missing our little guy. As we didn't know what all they did, we gave them a bit of time, but now, as first-time parents we were beginning to freak out. So, diligent daddy went to go check on our kiddo.
He returned without Owen.
Where was my baby?
Joe informed me that they were running some tests, including a chest x-ray because they believe he had ingested some fluid and was causing an infection and irregular breathing. My heart sank.
When he returned to check on him. They had taken him to the NICU. They had taken my baby away and we didn't even get to give him a kiss.
Thus began a very long week. Joe checked on Owen regularly. I was still very weak and couldn't quite make it yet. When I finally got to see my son, I cried.
Here was my tiny baby hooked up to an IV with a splint on his little arm to hold it in place. An oxygen tube in his nose. Tiny sunglasses velcroed to his head. Sensor wires all over his little chest and foot and swaddled in an incubator with bilirubin lights under and above.
I felt like I had failed my child. Not only did he have a slight infection due to fluid, he also had a very high bilirubin/jaundice levels, which can have very adverse effects if not regulated.
We visited by the hospital's lactation consultant, which I had a total melt down with. Because why did I need a lactation consultant, they stole my baby! (or so I felt.) She put me on a regimen of pumping because I didn't have Owen to stimulate my milk. Also, not good for the self esteem. Awesome Joe had the responsibility of running down any colostrum/milk I had to the NICU for Owen, since they were giving him formula in the meantime. Again, I felt like a failure. My 'breast milk only' baby was on formula, in the NICU and had been given a pacifier to boot.
Over the next few days, his levels increased, decreased and began to level out. We were called down about every 2.5 hrs to try and nurse, and the walk from one side of the building to the other was horrendous.
I had brought my cute pjs, robe and slippers. I was so prepared. But did I care, nope. I lived in that awesome hospital gown. I was barely able to put my slippers on. The best thing was when I finally was able to take a shower. I had never felt worse physically or mentally. (I never put on pants until we left!)
We learned that our little dude was getting better. They transitioned him out the the total-cover incubator to an open one. We lost several wires, the IV and the oxygen. Now we were just on one bili light (still wit the little sunglasses stuck to his head) and hoping for release.
We were informed Thursday evening that it looked like he could be released on Friday. We were sooo happy. So, we decided to spend the night hotel-style at the hospital, since I was officially released on Thursday. This was the best night so far. Since I was no longer under hospital care, we only had the NICU nurse's call to come nurse, not EVERYONE ELSE and their DOG waking us up too.
Friday arrived with an early wake-up call from Owen's pedi. She was ready to do his circumcision. Ugh, felt like a bad parent for putting this on our little dude, but we did, and he did great, not even much crying at all!
Owen's NICU doctor arrived shortly later and said he had passed and could go home. After waiting some more for the final sign-off we were finally able to take our little guy HOME.
We were so happy. Parents Oooed and Aaahhed over him again. But that night was the worst night I had ever had in my life. Owen cried and cried. He was always hungry. I was still so tired, exhausted and sore. I cried and cried and cried. If it weren't for Joe and my mom, I don't know what I would have done.
We had an early AM appointment with the pediatrician to check his bilirubin levels again. And it was so early and so nerve-wracking driving with a newborn! Eeekk! Our dear, sweet pedi asked how we were and I lost it. I was not good. Not good at all. My baby was still sick, my emotions were whack, my body beaten. God blessed us with good friends who referred us to their awesome friend, our pedi. She assured us and comforted us and wasn't offended by my crazy emotions.
Over the next week, Owen and I made a trip back to the hospital every day but one either for him or me. His levels were checked and rechecked. I was checked by my doctor who still wanted to give me a transfusion and wanted to make sure I wasn't having a breakdown. We were close, but did not go over the edge!
We also experienced nursing issues. He just wouldn't do it. I was so frustrated. So we gave bottles, again something every breastfeeding mother frowns upon. So we made an appointment with the lactation department (which was an act of congress for some dumb reason), and were able to work out our issues. I was so happy. It was still hard, but we were managing!
Over the next few weeks, I struggled with physical pain, emotional issues and this new baby hanging around my house. I didn't know if I liked him. He cried ALL THE TIME. I was constantly feeding him ...40 mins ever 2 hours was like I was constantly chained to him. But thanks to help from my wonderful, loving husband, awesome mom and a devoted puppy that followed me no matter the hour, I was beginning to heal.
We definitely had a hard road up to this point, but every day, I learn to love this guy a little more. It is still the hardest, scariest, most constant thing I have ever had to do. Some days I still want to run away, but at least now I want to come back
Owen, you are a blessing. I am so glad you are here. I look forward to every day with you. You are the best!
Love,
Your mom
