In the Beginning...

The most miraculous day of our lives happened on a cold day in December 2010--I went into labor with my first child. After laboring at home for the first 5 centimeters, I finally arrive at the hospital ready for my epidural. I remember the excitement and adrenaline that I had to finally be in the labor and delivery room. I also remember my body trembling and feeling embarrassed that I couldn't control my shaking. (I asked the nurses if it was normal, and apparently it is--whew). After listening to the instructions to push, I pushed through three contractions with all my might. I finally was told, "He's here, he's here" and they threw my little bundle of joy on my stomach. All I was thinking was, "he's gray, why is he gray?" and all I could say was, "ahh, ahh, ahh". For once in my life, I was literally speechless.

The speechlessness was soon to be followed by complete obliviousness and then later, numbness. You see, when W was born (at 40 weeks), I thought everything was normal in my L & D room. However, by the time I was pushing, I had about seven medical staff members by my side--two OB doctors, two delivery nurses, a neonatal doctor, a neonatal nurse practitioner,and a neonatal nurse. Based on data received on the fetal monitors, they knew something was up, but we were all surprised to find out what it was. My little one was born on his due date and weighed 4 lbs, 12 oz. Shortly after the speechlessness, I remember someone saying that he's not crying the way he should be, so they wanted to do some tests in the NICU. I remember a nurse holding him up to take a picture of him before they took him away from me. 

 
As they took him away, my husband and friend followed them to the NICU. While alone, I quickly grabbed my husband's laptop and uploaded a picture to facebook--I couldn't resist. I was on cloud nine and still shaking with excitement that I had a baby! I was so giddy and happy that I made it through labor and delivery! When my friend came back, she explained in the most assuring way she could that W was having tests done and they stuck and IV in through his umbilical cord. Agreeing with her that this was what was best for him, I was still grinning from ear to ear that I had a baby, even though this baby was not in my arms nor healthy. Still oblivious to the fact that this experience was not the "norm" for a newborn baby, our stuff was gathered and I was wheeled into the NICU to meet my husband and see my son.

While in the NICU, the transition from obliviousness to numbness hit me when a doctor dressed in the full gown get-up approached me and said, "I'm sorry, we cannot let you see your son until he is stabilized." With my husband and friend by my side, I "listened" to this doctor explain things regarding my son. However, to this day, all I can remember from this conversation was that she was wearing glasses with thick purple frames. Words flew out of her mouth and landed somewhere other than my ears.

Still blank and numb, they wheeled me into my postpartum room, taught me how to pump, and told me and my husband to "get some rest". Ha. I think I stared into the darkness for about three and a half hours wondering, hoping, praying for my baby to be okay.

Finally, at four in the morning (four hours after delivery), a NICU nurse came into the room and said, "We finally have your son stabilized and you can see him now. However, you cannot touch or hold him. And, just to warn you, he is connected to a lot of machines and wires."

I fly out of bed and grab my husband. We follow the nurse to the NICU and we finally see our son. She was right, he was connected to a lot of machines, but I looked completely past that and only saw my tiny little miracle--and he was alive!