Should have started this sooner

Blogging has been a 21st century hit that we never got into.  Time always seems to be an issue.  I look at things now and realize I need to take some time to myself.  A 5 month old baby made us realize how much we enjoy our time alone.  Max is wonderful and I would spend all my time with him if I could.  I wouldn't trade him for the world.  But to stay sane, we need moments of alone time.  While it seems cliche to say that life completely changes when you have a baby, you don't really understand what those words mean until it actually happens.  I must say we are lucky.  He is an extremely easy baby.  But getting to this point was not as easy as we thought.  I think I may have started this blog in hopes it will be therapeutic, because the events leading up to his birth and the aftermath were not easy.  Nevertheless, we are blessed.

I think about those weeks leading up to Max's birth and the weeks after he came into this world more frequently than many realize.  I haven't talked about it much because I don't think I ever wanted to relive them.  I would talk about bits and pieces here and there, but I've never really talked about the events in their entirety.  Honestly, I've been too scared.  This past week it hit me.  Maybe PMS brought it on...who knows.  But I knew this day would come.  The day where I look back and truly realize the danger I was in, the danger Max was in, and the things that I missed out on because of it. 

28 Weeks:  Like any expectant mother, I had my gestational diabetes test.  Negative. 

32 weeks:  Baby was measuring bigger than he should be.  Doc decided to have me take the gestational diabetes test again.  Positive.  Horribly positive.  It was a complete 180 from my last test.  My legs started to swell as many pregnant women experience, and I was becoming uncomfortable. 

33 Weeks 5 days (May 27th):  I attend my gestational diabetes class at the Oxboro clinic in Bloomington.  I wasn't feeling right.  Something was wrong.  I managed to pull through the class, but still was not feeling right.  My blood pressure had been 140-150/80 at my last appointment, so not too terribly high, but they were keeping an eye on it.  I have NEVER had high blood pressure in my life.  Just off a hunch, I asked the lady to take my blood pressure.  174/90.  Shit.  Needless to say she sent me straight upstairs to the clinic where my doctor was.  The fit me into his schedule immediately.  He barely got in the room and said "I'm sending you to the hospital."    What?!  "You are severely pre-eclamptic and we need to keep you on bed rest."  I had already been on bedrest for the previous two weeks, but apparently didn't realize how serious this was. 

Dr. Beard wouldn't let me drive.  I called Chris balling.  I was scared.  Terrified.  All I could do was cry.  Chris picked me up from the clinic and we made our way to the hospital.  They kept me overnight for observation.
33 Weeks 6 days (May 28th):  The next day they advised me the baby is fine, but my health was deteriorating.  I was spilling proteins at 10+ and you're not supposed to spill more than a trace.   I begged them to let me go home for the night.  After much discussion, they said I could, but they first gave me a betamethasone shot to help develope the baby's lungs faster.  They advised me to come back tomorrow morning to receive the second one. 

34 Weeks (May 29th):  Back to the hospital at 11 am for my second Betamethasone shot.  With both my Mom and Chris at my side, I was told I wasn't leaving the hospital.  In fact, I was staying until the baby was born.  Had an ultrasound to see what is going on with baby.  He's fine, but they wanted to do a bio scan or something like that to be sure.  Everything turned out normal.  The neonatologist from the NICU comes to our room.  At this point, I'm not sure what to think.  He tells us about the major risks with a pre-term baby, including, but not limited to, not breathing on his own, multiple organ failures, including his heart, and the worst:  death.  I've never heard such heart wrenching words in my life.  I've carried this baby for 34 weeks and I'm not about to lose him now.  The neonatologist left the room, Chris walked to my bedside, wrapped me in his arms, and we both fell apart. 

34 Weeks 1 Day (May 30th):  I was informed they were going to start induction that night.  With a dose of cervidil overnight, they would start the pitocin the next morning. 

34 Weeks 2 Days (May 31st - Memorial Day):  My blood pressure was still up so they started me on a saline IV and put me on a Magnesium Sulfate drip.  Because my blood pressure was so high, I was at risk for a having a stroke and/or seizures.  The Mag Sulfate helps prevent this from happening.  Pitocin started right at 10 am and after 8 hours, I still wasn't contracting.  Unfortunately, Pitocin and Mag Sulfate counteract each other and anyone who has been on it before will tell you it's not pleasent.  They decide to hold off on more cervidil and pitocin to see what happens.

34 Weeks 4 Days (June 2):  2-3 Centimeters dialated in the morning so they inserted another cervidil that night .  It was extremely painful because it causes all the tissue to be extremely sensitive.  They do an ultrasound to make sure the baby's head is down.  According to my blood tests, my platelets were dropping, so they advise me that if I want an epidural, they need to insert the catheter now before my platelets get too low and I'm unable to clot.  It certainly was uncomfortable, especially because I had a tube taped up my back to my shoulder.

34 Weeks 5 Days (June 3rd):  Pitocin all day, but no progression.  9:45 pm: Dr. Beard comes into my room and states that I am progressing too slowly and the only cure for pre-eclampsia is delivery.  So after a week in the hospital, I'm heading to the operating room.  I vaguelly remember Chris getting into scrubs and me being rolled down.

10:00 pm:  I'm in the OR being prepped for surgery.  Chris is not yet with me.  They get me positioned and start giving me the meds through my epidural catheter.  I start to feel my legs get warm.  Not long after, Chris walks in and sits by my head, holding my hand.  I don't think I was coherent enough to be scared.  The next thing I remember was screaming.  Not the baby.  Me.  The anaesthesiologist tried giving me some kind of gas to help calm me down, but then they realized I was feeling everything. 

June 4th  12:50am:   I woke up in the ICU.  They had to completely knock me out.  The nurses are still working on me, and without going into details, causing much pain.  What an unpleasent feeling.  Mom had gone home to sleep and Chris was in the room with me. I don't remember much, just waking up and seeing the clock read 10 to 1.

6:00 am:  I slowly wake up and look to my right.  My wonderful husband is snoring away in one of those folding hospital chairs.  A nurse comes in asking if I'm ok.  I haven't been awake long enough to assess that.  I'm alive, so yeah, I'm ok.  But I haven't even seen my son yet and he was born 7 and a half hours ago.  That's when I looked to my left and there was a picture of him taped on my bed rail.  Eyes open, looking around.  Tears fell down my cheek.  My little baby boy was here.  Chris proceeded to tell me he's in the NICU and doing very well.  He's still sluggish from the Mag Sulfate and the gestational diabetes, and he has an IV for antibiotics in case of infection.  I wasn't quite able to get out of bed and see him yet, but soon.  I got out of bed to eat breakfast around 7:30 and continued to rest.  

I get to this point in the story and start sobbing.  While I knew I was ok and he was ok, I hate that I didn't get to see him when he was first born.  I didn't get to hold him, kiss him, cuddle him.  He's been separated from me for the last 12 hours.  I would soon get to meet that precious little boy in the picture.