This precious boy was a long time coming. Hubby and I had been married 12 years when we finally conceived our little miracle. I did everything that I was supposed to during my pregnancy, I stayed away from all the mercury and chemicals possible, daddy always changed the litter box, we went on daily walks, etc. I guess I should mention that I have type II diabetes, but was religious about keeping it under tight control. (In fact, the doctor said my A1C was a little too low at one point.) I enjoyed every well-earned flutter and kick, his hiccups made me giggle. Bedtime was when he got really active. I’d lay on my side with hubby’s hand resting on my belly and the boy would kick at daddy & do cartwheels for our amusement.
At 38 weeks, full term but two weeks before the due date, my water broke. We headed to UofM hospital and they immediately started a pitocen drip to get things moving along. What a happy, exciting time! About seventeen hours later, baby started showing signs of distress; with each contraction his heart rate would drop. They had me try different positions to relieve pressure on the cord, because they were guessing it was being compressed. By nineteen hours they were talking C-section to a very disappointed first-time mom. The alarm bells on the monitors had been going off for a couple of hours, but the boy’s heart rate was getting lower with each contraction. The third time it dropped into the 80’s (normal is around 120,) the nurse said “that’s it, call the doctor.” But the doctor was in the door frame already, “Let’s go” he said. So they kicked off the brakes and wheeled the whole bed down to the operating room. I remember at one point someone saying, “let’s not run, somebody’s going to get hurt.” I was completely panicked and sobbed all the way to the O.R. A masked face bent over mine and said, “it’s ok honey, we do this all the time. You’re going to be just fine.” It wasn’t me I was worried about! You see, when they kicked off the brakes and started wheeling me out and running me down the hall, they had forgotten to explain to me that they were removing the monitor from my baby’s scalp. The last thing I saw as they wheeled me out was his heart monitor going flatline.
I awoke groggy and on morphine and they immediately placed a bundle of swaddled baby into my arms. I regret now that I was too stoned to cry, because he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen! I know all parents feel that way about their child, but seriously, I had geared myself up for a purplish, wrinkled, vernix covered, wailing creature. I guess I missed that part. He was my gorgeous, pink, chubby cheeked little cherub. The tearstained hubby recorded our first meeting, I laugh now because you can see how out-of-it I was as I picked through layer after layer of swaddling blankets to see his body and count fingers and toes. After a while, hubby and mom told me that baby boy had managed to get his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck 3 times during his nightly acrobatics.
Our new baby boy was so calm and quiet all day (he was born at 8AM,) occasionally letting out a cute little squeak or yawn, causing his visitors to go, “awwwwww!” It was about 2AM when we first heard the piercing, hawk-like cry. Hubby and I looked at each other and said, “THAT just came out of our tiny baby?” After trying to console the screeching baby for a while, the nurses wheeled him out of our room & kept him at their station, where I’m completely positive they fed him bottles and gave him a pacifier against my wishes, hahaha! This would be my only night of respite for the next three months. Our baby had colic.