The amazing human being and its wondrous abilities: I truly believe that the female body has an instinctual ability to forget the pain and overall discomfort of childbirth. If we didn't have this "forget" instinct then we would never have more children and the human population would dwindle down to nothing. However, the forget instinct immediately shuts off when labor begins and memories of contractions and pain rush back. But at that point, it's too late. Don't worry the instinct immediately resets when you catch your first glimpse of that baby and you fall in love all over again.
My induction was scheduled for 9am Saturday and for some reason my mind just assumed a baby would magically appear at 9am. I had completely forgotten that I had to actually push her out. So with the aid of pitocin and a foley ball (not explaining that one to save myself from having to relive it.), I began labor. I opted for an epidural because I didn't want my body to go through that pain and stress of labor. Yeah...well......it didn't work. Well that's a half truth. Half of it did. This is the third time I have had an epidural work on only one side of my body. Kudos to the anesthesiologists who tried everything in their power to help me but this is just me and my weird spine. So my right side was loving life while my left side was in utter hell.
And baby took her sweet-ass time. All of my family was kind of under the impression that this would be a fast delivery, but baby girl Raney decided to stroll into the party late and that's just what she did. Around 8pm she decided it was go time and let me just say, she may have been the smallest baby I have delivered, but oh dear god, was she the most painful. Luckily delivery was fast but afterward an emotional roller coaster ensued.
My room was filled with 8 staff members: three for my delivery and 5 to take care of Sam. When she came out my husband and I were pleasantly surprised at her size. We both assumed she'd be smaller than she was. And she looked good and she sounded good, but then they immediately grabbed her to examine her and I was left with a hormone surge and absolute fear of what could be wrong. I watched from my bed and had to keep peeking around doctors and nurses to catch a glimpse of her. All I could see was her belly working hard to get breaths in. I don't want to ever relive that feeling. I got to hold her for one more minute before they took her to the NICU. It seemed like an eternity until I was ready to be moved to my own room. Hormones and exhaustion were taking over but there was a big feeling of relief when I was told I was going back to the floor I was on after my surgery. The women's floor at HUP (UPenn) is amazing. They are not just nurses but they are therapists, educators, friends, comic relief and so on. As devastating as my last stay was, I was extremely comforted by these special women and it was nice to know I'd be seeing familiar faces. As soon as they wheeled me in I saw my favorite nurse Kate and knew I'd be in good hands as usual.
Billy (my husband. Not sure if I've given him a name in this blog yet. We will call him "Billy" because that is his name) wheeled me to the NICU and that's when I saw Sam. She was in an isolette (incubator) hooked up to a lot of shit and taking pretty labored breaths. And that's when it all hit me. I have cancer and I just had a baby, a preemie nonetheless, and how on Earth could life be this unfair? And did I do the right thing? Did I wait long enough to have her? Should I have just said fuck it and had a full term baby? Was I being selfish about my own health and in return, had I sacrificed her health? Mostly, I kept thinking over and over again, "this is so unfair".
Sam had fluid in her lungs and there was debate about putting her on a ventilator but they would play the wait and see game because honestly that's all you can do with a preemie. However, by next morning she only needed a C-Pap machine to help her breathe. Not long after she graduated to a nasal cannula for oxygen and as I write this she is in an open air bassinet with no breathing assistance.
Sam is doing great for a 34 week old. She's had jaundice and some low blood sugar and low calcium but at a week old, her main issue is learning to feed and not puking it up. She is being fed fortified breastmilk through a nasal feeding tube. It's hard pumping for a baby that you don't get to actually breastfeed. I never breast-fed my other children and I had heard about how stressful it could be, especially knowing how beneficial it can be to a preemie. The adage "don't go crying over spilled milk" is wrong! I completely broke down when some milk leaked onto me instead of pumping into the bottle.
Next week will be the last week I can give Sam my milk and that brings me to the other side of having her early: my treatment. I will save that for another post. Right now this is about the brand new baby I am madly in love with. So proud of her progress she's made this week. I was prepared for a graver situation. Plus, the NICU staff is amazing. I feel completely at home when I am there with her.
Chopped in half: Having children in 2 different states is not an easy thing. And yes, my kids are older and pretty self-sufficient at 11 and 12, but it doesn't mean they don't need me. Our lives have been completely flipped upside down and all we crave is normalcy, but right now it's impossible. My kids also struggle with having a new sister that they can't even visit. I am completely emotionally spent when it comes to this. All I want is to be with little Sam and hold her and try to get her to feed and just smell her little head. I could hold her all day. I've already held my pee in way too long and forgone a meal here and there just to have extra time with her (Don't lecture me! I have since been good and I have been eating, although I do it pretty damn quickly in order to get back to her). During the week my time is limited with her because we have to get the kids off to school and then have to be back in time for when they get off the bus. And yes, we do have help and people to stay with them but again, we want normalcy for them so we try to be there. And I want to be with them. I miss them when I am in Philly and I miss Sam when I am home. It sucks.
Definition of a man: I just have one more thing to say tonight. My husband is the greatest person I know. Tears are starting to flow just at the thought of him. He does everything. No, seriously, EVERYTHING. There are the everyday tasks of getting kids off to school, food shopping, cleaning, cooking, etc. It's all on him now. That doesn't factor in the constant driving to Penn for my doctor visits and now to see the baby. It's an annoying-ass drive to Philly and he has to do it every single day. Oh yeah, and he is also my emotional support through all of this. He is able to get me through every crying spell or temper tantrum I have and now with having Sam, there is a buttload of them (buttload is an actual unit of measure. Look it up.). He is also my comic relief. No one is funnier than him. No one. He was the cause of numerous pee accidents during this pregnancy. Anywho, he is beyond selfless. Yesterday he kept the kids busy in Philly so I could have time with Sam and then today he dropped me off again to see her and then took the kids to their soccer games. I cried when he dropped me off because I knew he would not get to see Sam today and he kept saying that she needed to be with me more than anyone else. I tried to agree with him but deep down I know he is just like me and wants nothing more than to have that baby in his arms. (Side note: Years ago when I asked Billy what he wanted to do with his life his answer was to be a Dad.) I cannot imagine going through this with anyone else. I know right now he is sacrificing his own health at times to put me first and it sucks. He is tired on so many levels but still makes sure I am taken care of. Oh did I happen to mention that he is a kick-ass dad too? Well, he is. I love him. I truly do.
Holy crap, this be crazy long. Signing off for now. I have to go share pics of Sam and pics of her poop. Yes it's weird, but I'm even proud of her poops and today was a monumental one. I will only share non-poop pics with you guys. I promise.