Column Favorites (from Charlotte Parent)

Teeny Tiny Baby

On January 10^th, 2006, Matt and I woke up to a very big surprise. My water broke and I was only thirty weeks pregnant. At first, I attempted to convince us that it simply could not be happening, but a quick call to my doctor had us racing into the office. The news was not good and we were sent to CMC. Josh, it seemed, was coming ahead of schedule.

But he did not arrive. I waited in a tiny room for nine days. It was nine days of relying on my parents, my friends and Matt to run my life and care for Ryan. Our lives revolved around shuffling him to and from and who could pick him up. I could not see him every day. The nursery was not even started. We were not ready for the little man who seemed very ready to meet us.

Matt brought Chinese food to the hospital to celebrate our nine year dating anniversary on the 18^th. I was going crazy in my tiny room. I was unable to get up and walk around for fear of sending me into labor. The doctors and nurses were assuring me that since I was not in active labor, it would be weeks until Josh would arrive. As Matt left to pick up Ryan, I felt a small and sudden pain in my side. I was in labor.

Joshua was born via c-section at 2:13 the morning of the 19^th. His body was thirty-one weeks and five days old. He weighed four pounds and three ounces and true to my words of warning to my OB, he arrived screaming his head off. There was no rush of NICU team. He was breathing. He was tiny, but seemingly fine.

My mom and Matt went down to the NICU. I stayed in recovery and when they returned, their faces told me all I needed to know. I listened as they explained that he was put on a ventilator to help him breathe and that they were watching his dangerously low blood pressure. I heard the words and saw their faces, but the only thing I cared about was getting to my child.

The nurses told me to rest, but when the NICU opened at 7:30, you better believe that I braved the forty-five minutes of pain it took to get me in a wheelchair. I wanted to see my son. I scrubbed in. I put a gown on. I was wheeled into a place I would know forwards in backwards in the coming days. I entered the NICU.

I should have been scared, but I was not. I had plenty of experience with tiny babies and I knew what I would see. Josh was in a warming bed with tubes and wires running all over him. He was tiny and precious. I watched as the monitors showed his heart rate, his breathing and his pulse oxygenation. I watched his tiny chest go up and down.

The next few days were a blur of pumping breast milk, scrubbing in and sitting next to Josh. On the second day, we were able to hold him, though the moving of wires and tubes was difficult. He moved quickly from ventilator to C-PAP to oxygen. He progressed beautifully. We had an amazing nurse who I instantly loved. Leaving him with her, knowing that she would be for him what I would be, is the only way that I was mentally able to be discharged.

To look back at our lives then, it is impossible to believe that I faced each day. I would wake Ryan up, pack his stuff, Josh’s milk and my stuff into bags. I would drop Ryan off at school, go to CMC for a few hours, pick Ryan up and come home. Were it not for the amazing friends that I have who brought me dinners each night, we would have starved. After dinner, we would drop Ryan off with my parents and head back up to CMC to see Josh. We did this every single day for thirty-three days.

That month was the most chaotic of my life, but it taught me so much about myself. I learned to rely on other people. I learned what my breaking point truly is. I saw the best come out in those around me, especially Matt. We watched as our tiny son learned to drink milk and thrive on his own. His battle made all of our efforts seem so small.

We were truly lucky to have friends in the NICU to go through the ordeal with. The things that happened to us, the things that we saw, were extremely hard. A baby died one night in the NICU while we were all there. Getting through that was hard enough and we were so glad to have a couple who we could talk to about what we were feeling.

On February 22^nd, we took Josh home. It was scary. In the NICU, he would stop breathing. I was sure that he would stop at home, so I had to sleep with my hand on his chest. I was sure that I would feel him stop if he did, but that never happened. He just grew into a butterball and filled our lives with joy.

There will never come a January where I don’t think back to those long days in the NICU. I can still see myself sitting in the rocker next to his isolet, watching the numbers on the monitors. I can still see him swimming in the preemie clothes that our friends gave us. To see him now, you would never know how hard his little life once was and how lucky we were back then. We only see how lucky we are now.