I won’t sugarcoat this blog post… July 18 was easily the most emotionally turbulent and significant day of my life. It was my first day back to work after my week long work trip to Ohio and I had my ultrasound scheduled for the afternoon. At work I busied myself with action plans and motivational games for my staff; I had shielded myself from thinking about my afternoon ultrasound and that anything could be wrong with my baby.
When I got to the ultrasound everything seemed to be going okay. The tech performing the ultrasound would not divulge anything she saw that could pose a problem, but left the room after 20 minutes saying she was going to grab the doctor. I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t even tell you what the doctor said when he came into the room– I know that he talked for about 5 minutes, but all I heard was, “… baby isn’t moving… baby hasn’t grown… potential brain damage… need to have the baby now..” Luckily Tomis had called his work and said he would be a little late to come with me to the appointment as I immediately started to cry. I didn’t know if my baby was okay, and I was not ready to be a mommy right at that moment.
Tomis and I headed straight to the hospital and I was admitted for a C-Section. Tomis and I both called work, and then I called my parents. Moosh and Doodle were there within minutes of me being put in a hospital gown and hooked up to a drip. It wasn’t too long before it was time to be rolled into surgery. I was scared… not of the surgery but for my baby and for what I would do once he was out. I hadn’t even washed his clothes or blankets, put away his presents, built his bassinet– NOTHING was in place. I was supposed to have 5 weeks left. I had a bad reaction to some anti-nausea medicine they gave me as well; one of the rare side effects is anxiety, and the attack I suffered just made all those thoughts a million times louder in my head.
After about half an hour of surgery, I heard my baby cry for the first time. It was strong and loud, and the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. Tomis was at my head talking to the whole time, and we both shed a tear when we saw our baby. He was tiny and beautiful at 4 lbs 5 oz, 18 inches in length. With him being so little he was scooted off to the NICU immediately and I was sewn up and taken to my recovery room. I was so drugged I can’t remember the exact sequence of events, but at some point I was rolled into my recovery room, and at another point I was rolled into the NICU to see my baby. It was there that I got to hold him for the first time. I can’t describe the emotions I felt at that point but I am sure I cried. I was holding my and Tomis’s creation, and he needed me; at that moment I knew I needed him too. I have never felt love so overwhelming.
I spent a week at the hospital. I saw Ryker as often as I could but I tried to be mindful of my recovery as well. I won’t lie though, the relief that my son was alive and here made me less inclined to sleep and more inclined to cuddle him for hours on end.
So here are some pictures from that week… Ryker has slept for the past hour as I wrote this post, but I can sense that time of quiet is coming to a close so I have to wrap it up…