Your Birth Day
There is no way to truly explain the bond between a mother and her child my boy. But I always knew about you. I knew I was destined for you. I knew we were waiting on you to complete our family.
I always knew you would come early. Even before your diagnosis. Mama knew. I said, “it’s a boy, he’ll be early, and he’s going to make quite an entrance”. I just knew. I was in tune with you from the very beginning.
The day you were born was a Sunday. April 19, 2015, at 4:56pm. The doctors had given us a goal, to try and make it to 38 or 39 weeks…I knew there was no way we were making that. I knew you had different plans.
At the appointments in the week leading up to your arrival, I had been contracting, quite a lot. Some I felt, and some I had no clue about. It was getting harder and harder to move around, get comfortable, or even walk at times.
I kept joking that I was more uncomfortable this pregnancy than I was carrying your brothers at the same time!
Come to find out, that was because of the polyhydramnios. That means that you had an excessive amount of amniotic fluid that was surrounding you. This only occurs in about 1 % of pregnancies. 1 %. It didn’t harm you, but it sure made me uncomfortable! This was happening because of your bowel obstruction. You were swallowing the amniotic fluid like you were supposed to, but because part of your bowel didn’t develop, the fluid wasn’t able to move through and out of you. Therefore, my body continued to make more.
I had already been sleeping on the couch for a couple of weeks. I couldn’t get comfortable in bed, and needed a lot of pillows for support. I was also snoring and keeping Daddy awake! So the couch was the place for me.
The night before you were born was a rough one. I was awakened a couple of times by some pretty strong contractions that had me gripping the back of the couch and breathing heavily through them. Grammy was sleeping over at that point too, but I didn’t want to wake anyone up with a false alarm, so I just tried to continue to sleep. We had already had a false alarm the day before, and didn’t want to set everyone into a panic thinking we needed to head into Boston in the middle of the night.
In the morning when everyone was up, I made sure I was drinking plenty of water, had something to eat, and tried walking around…but nothing was making those contractions go away. Daddy went to play soccer, and Grammy went grocery shopping. So there I was, in labor, at home alone with your two brothers.
I tried calling Daddy, but he didn’t answer, and I didn’t want Grammy to leave a grocery cart full of groceries in the middle of the store, so I decided to wait until someone got home to help make the call of what to do.
I decided to call labor and delivery at Tufts and get the doctors opinion. When I had to stop talking to the doctor, so I could breathe through the contractions, she told me that I needed to make my way into see them.
Daddy came home, exhausted, and did not want to drive back into Boston, but I think he took one look at me, and knew we had to go.
The car ride, all 60 minutes of it was not fun. The contractions were 5 minutes apart, you were doing flips and I was doing all I could to deal with the pain. Daddy was trying to make jokes, which helped a little bit…but all I wanted him to do was drive faster.
When we arrived at the hospital, I couldn’t walk, so Daddy pushed me in the wheel chair. I remember rolling into L&D, and the nurses took one look at me and said, “oh hunny, I don’t need a monitor on you, you’re in labor”.
Once they hooked me up to the monitor, my contractions were quite intense, and you were still moving all over the place…which was great!...it just didn’t feel so great.
They checked me, and I was already 4-5 centimeters dilated, so this was it. Even though I knew you were coming early all along, when the moment was staring me in the face…I was in a state of disbelief. I had waited so long, so long, to meet you, to see you, to touch you, and kiss you…and now that the moment was here…I couldn’t believe it.
I decided to have a c-section for your birth. The doctors were still trying to get me to change my mind, but I stuck with the c-section because I didn’t want anymore trauma to your belly. I knew the NICU team would be there no matter what, but I didn’t want to add possible complications to your birth.
The wait until your arrival was torture. I wanted to hear you cry. I wanted to see that face. I wanted to (hopefully) touch you, and kiss you, and tell you to be strong, and that everything was going to be okay. But…I wanted you to stay inside me. I didn’t want you to come out. Out meant unknown. For you and for me. Out meant pain and surgery, and scary. But you were coming....
At 4:56pm, the doctor pulled you from your comfort, your safe, your home for the last 8 months. They said, “you were right Mom, it’s a boy”! You didn’t cry. There was no sound. They said you were beautiful. There was no crying. They said you were doing well. There was no crying. They said your color was good. There was no crying. They said the NICU team was with you…there was no crying. It felt like an eternity. I started to cry…and so did you.
The first time I heard you cry is a moment I will never forget…
They called Daddy over, and told him what they were doing. Because of our meeting with the NICU team the week before, he was prepared for the tube down your throat that was suctioning out dark, dark bile. But you really were doing well. You were 4 weeks early, and were born with a significant birth defect, but you were breathing on your own, and had APGAR scores of 9. You were amazing in every way.
They carried you all swaddled up over to me. No incubator! You were in the nurses arms, and she brought you right to my face.. The tears are flowing now remembering one of the most precious moments of my life; the moment I saw your face. The moment I touched your head, the moment my tears ran onto your face. Tears of happy, tears of scared, tears of relief, tears for the unknown. We stayed face to face for a couple of minutes. I told you how much I loved you, and that I was going to be with you every step of the way. I told you that you needed to be strong, and that I knew you would be.
The nurses then took you away…
There was no snuggling you. There was no cuddling. There was an ache in my heart.
I was in recovery, and started telling the world of your arrival. Zachary James, born at 4:56pm, weighing 7lbs. 12ozs. at 4 weeks early.
Grammy and Nana came to see me and Daddy in recovery, and then Daddy took them to go meet you.
When was it my turn? Those couple of hours that I had to wait to meet you were some of the hardest I had known…little did I know that the hardest times of my life were yet to come.
Daddy came back, and then the nurse said she would bring me to the NICU before bringing me upstairs to the mother/infant unit.
We entered the NICU, and they pushed my bed as close to yours as they could. I could barely reach your foot. I was able to grab your toes. The nurses assured me that you were doing very well considering everything stacked against you, and that the surgeons agreed you were doing well enough to wait on surgery until the following day.
I was pushed away and settled in my room…without you. I knew you were in the best hands…they just weren’t mine.
I thought of you with every thought, and called throughout the night. I thought of how scared you must have been. I wondered if you were wondering where I was. And that broke my heart. All I wanted to do was hold you…I hadn’t held you ye.t.
Your birth day was one of the best days of my life. You arrived, you were “okay”, you completed our family. With so much uncertainty of our future, the miracle of you brought so much more love into our hearts.
There is no way to truly explain the bond between a mother and her child my boy. But I always knew about you. I knew I was destined for you. I knew we were waiting on you to complete our family.
I always knew you would come early. Even before your diagnosis. Mama knew. I said, “it’s a boy, he’ll be early, and he’s going to make quite an entrance”. I just knew. I was in tune with you from the very beginning.
The day you were born was a Sunday. April 19, 2015, at 4:56pm. The doctors had given us a goal, to try and make it to 38 or 39 weeks…I knew there was no way we were making that. I knew you had different plans.
At the appointments in the week leading up to your arrival, I had been contracting, quite a lot. Some I felt, and some I had no clue about. It was getting harder and harder to move around, get comfortable, or even walk at times.
I kept joking that I was more uncomfortable this pregnancy than I was carrying your brothers at the same time!
Come to find out, that was because of the polyhydramnios. That means that you had an excessive amount of amniotic fluid that was surrounding you. This only occurs in about 1 % of pregnancies. 1 %. It didn’t harm you, but it sure made me uncomfortable! This was happening because of your bowel obstruction. You were swallowing the amniotic fluid like you were supposed to, but because part of your bowel didn’t develop, the fluid wasn’t able to move through and out of you. Therefore, my body continued to make more.
I had already been sleeping on the couch for a couple of weeks. I couldn’t get comfortable in bed, and needed a lot of pillows for support. I was also snoring and keeping Daddy awake! So the couch was the place for me.
The night before you were born was a rough one. I was awakened a couple of times by some pretty strong contractions that had me gripping the back of the couch and breathing heavily through them. Grammy was sleeping over at that point too, but I didn’t want to wake anyone up with a false alarm, so I just tried to continue to sleep. We had already had a false alarm the day before, and didn’t want to set everyone into a panic thinking we needed to head into Boston in the middle of the night.
In the morning when everyone was up, I made sure I was drinking plenty of water, had something to eat, and tried walking around…but nothing was making those contractions go away. Daddy went to play soccer, and Grammy went grocery shopping. So there I was, in labor, at home alone with your two brothers.
I tried calling Daddy, but he didn’t answer, and I didn’t want Grammy to leave a grocery cart full of groceries in the middle of the store, so I decided to wait until someone got home to help make the call of what to do.
I decided to call labor and delivery at Tufts and get the doctors opinion. When I had to stop talking to the doctor, so I could breathe through the contractions, she told me that I needed to make my way into see them.
Daddy came home, exhausted, and did not want to drive back into Boston, but I think he took one look at me, and knew we had to go.
The car ride, all 60 minutes of it was not fun. The contractions were 5 minutes apart, you were doing flips and I was doing all I could to deal with the pain. Daddy was trying to make jokes, which helped a little bit…but all I wanted him to do was drive faster.
When we arrived at the hospital, I couldn’t walk, so Daddy pushed me in the wheel chair. I remember rolling into L&D, and the nurses took one look at me and said, “oh hunny, I don’t need a monitor on you, you’re in labor”.
Once they hooked me up to the monitor, my contractions were quite intense, and you were still moving all over the place…which was great!...it just didn’t feel so great.
They checked me, and I was already 4-5 centimeters dilated, so this was it. Even though I knew you were coming early all along, when the moment was staring me in the face…I was in a state of disbelief. I had waited so long, so long, to meet you, to see you, to touch you, and kiss you…and now that the moment was here…I couldn’t believe it.
I decided to have a c-section for your birth. The doctors were still trying to get me to change my mind, but I stuck with the c-section because I didn’t want anymore trauma to your belly. I knew the NICU team would be there no matter what, but I didn’t want to add possible complications to your birth.
The wait until your arrival was torture. I wanted to hear you cry. I wanted to see that face. I wanted to (hopefully) touch you, and kiss you, and tell you to be strong, and that everything was going to be okay. But…I wanted you to stay inside me. I didn’t want you to come out. Out meant unknown. For you and for me. Out meant pain and surgery, and scary. But you were coming....
At 4:56pm, the doctor pulled you from your comfort, your safe, your home for the last 8 months. They said, “you were right Mom, it’s a boy”! You didn’t cry. There was no sound. They said you were beautiful. There was no crying. They said you were doing well. There was no crying. They said your color was good. There was no crying. They said the NICU team was with you…there was no crying. It felt like an eternity. I started to cry…and so did you.
The first time I heard you cry is a moment I will never forget…
They called Daddy over, and told him what they were doing. Because of our meeting with the NICU team the week before, he was prepared for the tube down your throat that was suctioning out dark, dark bile. But you really were doing well. You were 4 weeks early, and were born with a significant birth defect, but you were breathing on your own, and had APGAR scores of 9. You were amazing in every way.
They carried you all swaddled up over to me. No incubator! You were in the nurses arms, and she brought you right to my face.. The tears are flowing now remembering one of the most precious moments of my life; the moment I saw your face. The moment I touched your head, the moment my tears ran onto your face. Tears of happy, tears of scared, tears of relief, tears for the unknown. We stayed face to face for a couple of minutes. I told you how much I loved you, and that I was going to be with you every step of the way. I told you that you needed to be strong, and that I knew you would be.
The nurses then took you away…
There was no snuggling you. There was no cuddling. There was an ache in my heart.
I was in recovery, and started telling the world of your arrival. Zachary James, born at 4:56pm, weighing 7lbs. 12ozs. at 4 weeks early.
Grammy and Nana came to see me and Daddy in recovery, and then Daddy took them to go meet you.
When was it my turn? Those couple of hours that I had to wait to meet you were some of the hardest I had known…little did I know that the hardest times of my life were yet to come.
Daddy came back, and then the nurse said she would bring me to the NICU before bringing me upstairs to the mother/infant unit.
We entered the NICU, and they pushed my bed as close to yours as they could. I could barely reach your foot. I was able to grab your toes. The nurses assured me that you were doing very well considering everything stacked against you, and that the surgeons agreed you were doing well enough to wait on surgery until the following day.
I was pushed away and settled in my room…without you. I knew you were in the best hands…they just weren’t mine.
I thought of you with every thought, and called throughout the night. I thought of how scared you must have been. I wondered if you were wondering where I was. And that broke my heart. All I wanted to do was hold you…I hadn’t held you ye.t.
Your birth day was one of the best days of my life. You arrived, you were “okay”, you completed our family. With so much uncertainty of our future, the miracle of you brought so much more love into our hearts.