The Rest of the (Birth) Story

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

Moving and Cooing

Here's a little glimpse into the wake-hours of our little Owen.

He is a big fan of cooing over that oh-so-handsome kiddo in the mirror. We're also crazy busy kicking our legs and swinging our arms.

Owen rolled over again, twice. But by the time I tried to get it on video again, he decided he was done and started crying. So, we'll try again another day.

Owen's Firsts - 3

Tummy Time!

During our daily sessions of Tummy Time, Owen has officially turned from his tummy to his back this week -- several times in a row, mind you.

Yes, that's right, not only is he handsome, he is a mover! =)

Way to go Owie-bear!

One-Month Check-up

We had our one-month check-up yesterday. It wasn't as eventful weather-wise as our first trip, but prior to leaving we had a hectic feeding, peed on Owen and Mommy, had a diaper blow-out, dog didn't want to stay in the back yard.

One day we'll just hop in the car and make it down the road easy-peasy, right?

So, our stats!

Weight - 11 lbs 9 oz (75% percentile)

Length - 23 inches (80% percentile)

Head - 39.37 cm (60% percentile)

We are trying a baby heartburn medication to see if that will help us be a little happier after feedings. Dr. Megan says that he should grow out of it, but since he's been so unsettled, we'll give it a go. So far, Owen seems a bit more happy this morning after getting a dose last night and this morning, and we'll hope the trend continues with or without the medicine.

In addition we still have a bit of baby acne hanging around so we're trying some lotion and hydrocortisone to clear it up.

But overall we are doing good, getting big and growing strong! Way to go Owen!!

Documented!

I'm going to try and take a picture of Owen with a few of his stuffed animals each month to show his progress as he gets HUGE! He'll really hate this when he's 16, but he'll just have to deal!

Here's my favs from Month One!

A Month Ago...

A month ago today I became a mommy. Joe became a dad. Parents became grandparents. Sisters became aunts. And Ryker got the shaft, I mean, became a big brother.

Last month, on a Monday night at 8 p.m., Joe and I made the trek up to LCMC to have our little guy. We went in the night before to be induced. You see, our doctor told us our little guy was not so little, and in the best interest of his mommy, it might be a good idea to come in early. So we complied.

That day, my folks made it in, and I enjoyed a last meal with Mom, Dad and Holly at Johnny Carinos, because I had to stop eating at TWO P.M.! (we won't get into how evil I think that is.) So, Joe and I arrive at the hospital promptly at 8, because we're working on this on-time thing. Funny thing is, not everyone else was. They said, relax it'll be a minute, we've had some emergency cases come in. Well, 30 minutes later we're still waiting, so we go get Joe some Chic-fil-A. We arrive back, ummm, we're still not ready, but you can go wait in your room. Ummm, ok. So about an HOUR AND A HALF later, our nurse finally comes around to get this show started.

I was given a tiny little pill (that did not seem so tiny) to get things rolling along. I also opted for the Ambien sleep aid, as I knew they were going to be waking me up at all hours to check my progress and what-not. So before we drifted off to sleep, Joe also began a list of baby names. Nope, still didn't have one picked out! We got it fairly well narrowed down and figured we work on it some more the next day and decide when we saw him.

I was woken up several times through the night, but thanks to my handy dandy iPod and awesome drugs, it wasn't that big of a deal. At around 4:30 Tuesday morning, I had a weird feeling, called the nurse, and yep, my water broke. (Funny thing, my prego friend Lydia had gotten up around then and said a little prayer for us at about that exact time.) From there, the real fun began. I was given pitocin to help speed the process along. My ambien was nice during the night, as it did let me get some sleep, but then the pain began. It wasn't too unbearable at first, so I opted for the IV pain meds. BAD IDEA. Whatever that stuff was, it threw me for a loop. I was having conversations in my head between me and Joe. But the funny thing was, I wasn't that whacked out that I knew I was doing it, and kept commenting to Joe, "I didn't really say that to you, did I?"

Then, it started not getting so fun, so I did what any self-respecting woman would do and opted for the epidural. I figured moaning "I don't know what to do" and hitting my husband wasn't the best course for the rest of the day, so bring on the drugs. This amazingly helped a lot. The quick-talking anesthesiologist was super quick, and the smiles returned. We were progressing amazingly fast. Nurses and doctor were hedging their bets that we would deliver early afternoon. Joe called his parents at work and told them to hurry on down.

NOTE--When doctors and nurses get excited about your progress and start telling you how great everything is going and how fast it's going to go -- tell them to STOP TALKING.

You guessed it. Everything came to a halt. We hit nine centimeters and decided to camp out. Then the epidural decided to stop working and a horrible pain I have never known settled in my back and around my sides. The nice anesthesiologist came back to help, hit me with a second dose, and sadly it did NOTHING. I was then informed we were not making any progress still and that if we wanted to have this baby naturally, we'd have to PUSH PAST part of my cervix that didn't want to fully soften and excuse itself out of the way. ALL THIS while experiencing horrible pain, screaming my lovely mantra of "I DON"T KNOW WHAT TO DO," hitting Joe again and staring at the stupid bathroom door handle.

So, we pushed, and pushed and pushed. I was informed several times I wasn't pushing well enough or correctly. Well, excuse me! I'm doing the best I can!!!!! Then the whispering started. When doctors and nurses start to whisper and a whole troop of like 10 other nurses come in and start prepping stuff, you know either you or your kiddo might be in trouble. I did not want my baby to be in trouble, and I did not want a c-section at this point. I didn't even think I could make it through the pain to get to the point of having a c-section the pain was so intense.

So, Joe and I buckled down. I was going to get this kid out. I just remember they kept saying they could see his head, and I kept wondering why it was still taking so dang long! But it came down to a good last 3 or 4 pushes and this weirdest whoosh of a feeling happened and there was a baby.

A BABY! My Baby! Our baby!

Our Owen! I looked at our squishy red and white little guy and knew his name was Owen. Joe agreed, and I told him to choose his middle name, and he chose Daniel.

Owen Daniel O'Brien was born June 15, 2010 at 3:05 in the afternoon. He weighed 9 pounds and 4 ounces and was 20 inches long. He was here. We both were. And God is good.


(There's more to the story to be written, but this, I think you would agree, is the highlight. And can we say yahoo for adrenaline and a bad memory for helping me forget most of what really happened!)

Unfair

Riddle me this...

How is a two-week old baby who has only really seen the sun through windows more tan than I am? How is this fair? How does this help my self-esteem?

Also, along those same lines, are you born with freckles or do you acquire them? Joe and I have a pretty fair amount of freckles, but I've yet to find any on Mr. Owen. Just one of those random things.