Five years ago today, my little angel arrived and changed my life for the better ever since. I was elated, a new role as a parent, though I admit I was clueless. I had rarely held newborns and had changed a diaper maybe once or twice. I read all the popular baby books and the baby’s room was ready & waiting.
During my 8 month prenatal visit, my O.B. asked me how long I’d been having Braxton-Hicks. I replied, “I haven’t had any yet.” She looked at me and with all seriousness said, “You’re having one now.” Oh. That frequent, rock-hard tightening of my stomach was a practice contraction? Yep, I was completely naïve to the whole realm of pregnancy. I didn’t want to know the gender of the baby until “it” was born, but I also had a problem with referring to the baby as “it.” I don’t remember exactly how the name “Bean” came about, but it stuck and she introduces herself today as such.
My pregnancy had gone rather well, no complications & only minor discomfort from heartburn, sleepless nights, temporary carpal tunnel and cankles. Hmmm…not much has changed. I had no idea what was in store. The morning of July 7th, I woke up & something just felt different. I can’t explain it in words, but I was at peace and remember thinking, today’s the day Bean will be here. This was the calm before the storm.
I had my weekly appointment with the O.B. that morning. Derek & I were carpooling to work as there was only an hour difference in our shift schedules. He kept my hospital bag in the patrol car, just in case. We went to the doctor’s office before work. After the exam, she said everything looked well and wouldn’t be surprised to see me again that night. This baby was on the way. I wasn’t having major contractions, so she told me to go home and take it easy. I asked if I could just go to work instead. She laughed and said, “Sure, if you want to.” I didn’t want to waste my maternity leave when I just sat on my ass at work anyway, and it was only a few blocks from the hospital.
Following the appointment, I walked across the street to Einstein’s on 500 East for a Tasty Turkey sandwich on a sunflower bagel and Odwalla lemonade (I passed on the grotesquely large dill pickle). I can remember exactly what I ate for lunch five years ago, but not what I had for breakfast yesterday (thank you Ambien!) Then I walked to work. My shift began at 2:00 and usually ended at 11:15 p.m. I made it to 10:45. The contractions had become too painful to sit still. I called Derek (his patrol shift ended at midnight-thirty & he notified his Sergeant that he needed to leave. He picked me up from the station and we went to the hospital.
My O.B. was the on-call that night and just happened to already be there. She did a quick exam and as she started to leave, my water broke. She walked back to me and noted the presence of meconium. The NICU was advised so they would be present for immediate suction of the baby’s lungs upon delivery. That’s what would happen in a perfect world.
You’re probably familiar with my tolerance to pain. I welcomed an epidural and can’t imagine labor without one. It was so effective that I was able to sleep throughout most of the night. I can’t say the same for Derek. My room faced the “U” on the mountainside and I watched the sunrise that morning. As the contractions became closer together my doctor and nurses gathered in my room. Derek was instructed by my doctor to call the NICU and tell the nurses to “get in here now!” as they had not responded to her previous requests. After 11 hours of labor, Bean couldn’t wait any longer. At 9:58 a.m. she was finally here. My doctor did the best she could, but the NICU nurses were too late. Riley (Bean’s a baby girl!) had aspirated meconium. She was cleaned up, bundled, and handed to me. Of course she was beautiful beyond words.
As I held her I noticed Riley’s fingers were turning blue. I held an oxygen mask to her for awhile, but the nurses needed to take her to the NICU. She was having difficulty breathing on her own. Her little body was working so hard at fighting off infection in her lungs that it would sometimes forget to breathe. Throughout the day, Derek would give me frequent updates on her progress. Despite all the efforts made, she would stay the next week in the NICU to be monitored and treated with antibiotics. Having experienced an ideal pregnancy, I was not prepared for the reality that things could go wrong during or after delivery. I was devastated.
Following my discharge, the hospital allowed me to stay there for the remainder of the week at a minimal cost. This allowed me to be with Riley as much as possible. Derek would arrive at the hospital first thing in the morning and didn’t leave until late at night, sometimes after her 1:00 a.m. feeding. At night, the nurses would call my room as soon as she woke up to be fed. I’d go quickly, just short of running, down the hallway to the NICU, scrub in, and try to get situated in a rocking chair. I hated hearing her scream as she waited for me. There was little to no privacy and being a first-time mom, I was awkward and clumsy as hell when it came to nursing her. However, after having a handful of strangers gawking at you below the 50-yard line just days before, for the moment you sort of don’t care.
The night before she was released, she was able to breathe on her own. One nurse was shocked by my patience as I sat with a sleeping Riley in lap and using a Q-tip, slowly worked baby oil under the sticky tape on her cheeks that held her cannula (the small tube that delivered oxygen to her through her nose) in place. I couldn’t imagine ripping them off like a Band-Aid from her delicate new skin.
As with so many of life’s lessons, this too was bittersweet. I learned a lot during that week, albeit the longest week of my life. Nurses taught me things that were not in books. I cried as hard as Riley did when the doctor had to relocate her I.V. I’ll never forget the nurse (not one of Riley’s) that told me I was starting a bad habit by sitting in the rocking chair, long into the night, and holding her while she slept. Seriously? She had to be kidding. I couldn’t stop staring this perfect being and was enthralled by every little movement she made. Bad habit or not, I didn’t want to leave her.
You can imagine the delight in being able to take her home. Riley was healthy and thriving. The wait lasted all morning before she was finally discharged. This was the middle of July and a summer I’ll never forget. Daylilies in bloom, hummingbirds & thunderstorms to be watched from the balcony to ease colic, a month later Katrina wreaked havoc and death would knock on my Dad’s door, only for him to say, “I’m a little busy right now, you’ll have to come another day.
It’s no secret, I’ve always been proud of my little Bean. From the start, she’s been feisty, stubborn, very independent, and strong willed. Sound familiar? She’s also quick to forgive, tender-hearted, and the most loving little creature I know. I still have a lot to learn from Riley.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
