Our due date was the 16th of March. Our scheduled C-section was the 12th of March. We had plenty of time. I kept thinking: "Oh, I should start packing our bags.....but what would we wear/use in the mean time?!" "I should take another pregnancy picture so I can see how big I am getting....but I'll do it closer to the c-section date."
We didn't get closer to the c-section date. Luckily I did follow some impressions, like..."hmmm...this contraction feels a little different than usual, maybe I'm in labor. Nah...but I'll time it anyway." When I realized that my contractions were 2 minutes apart, I started to think I needed to get to the hospital.
The problem was, we were delivering at the U: 45 minutes away with no traffic. I still didn't think I was that close...after all, for Evelyn's labor my contractions were two minutes apart, and I was only dialated to 2! I figured things were just getting started.
I have discovered that my pain tolerance has increased tremendously through 11 years. I was chill and laughing with Michael all the way to the hospital. No running of stop lights and parking in ambulance only parking like last time.
When we got inside they were ready for us (Michael had called ahead.) They checked me and I was at a 7 and moving so fast they whipped into emergency mode: baby was still breach! A couple minutes later, I was being wheeled into the Operating room. I was a little befuddled: I was going to have the baby that night?!
They started the c-section before Michael was in the room: he was taking selfies of himself in scrubs.
When he walked in, all I could exclaim was, "Don't look! They've already started!" I knew if he caught even a glimpse, I would have to endure the rest of the c-section with him passed out beside me.
He didn't look, and was able to sit right by my head. I've never had a c-section before, so I can't compare, but they seemed like they had to wrestle that baby out of me! I kept telling Michael, "They are jiggling all my insides, clear to my heart!" He was watching the curtain shake so violently he could picture a velocirapter peforming the surgery.
Before we could think, we heard the doctors announce: "Here's a foot!" He always was determined to show up breach! "Here's another leg! There's an arm: another arm! And the head!"
My baby was born!
No cry.
A doctor shouted out, "15 seconds: no cry!"
Michael started worrying. They told us we had a boy, and he asked, "is he ok? Why isn't he crying?"
The doctor assured him he was crying. He had just already been passed through the window into the NICU. He was being stabilized because the cyst on his spine had ruptured in spite of their large incision to prevent it.
We hadn't seen our baby! This is where my pity party started. I was so loopy from the spinal, that I almost missed what happened next, but luckily, I heard Michael confess to the anesthesiologist that he wasn't feeling very well. I called out, "He's going to faint!" The anesthesiologist was so good and professional about it that I was able to not jump off the operating table to rescue my husband. I guess what caused him to pass out is the sound of the stapler as they sealed up the incision on top of them lowering the curtain and seeing all the fluids surrounding me. One of his first thoughts was, "Oh dear, that incision is way bigger than what Pamela explained: she is going to freak out!"
I didn't get to see Timothy for 3 hours. Michael was able to go back and see him once he was stabilized and give him a blessing. He took lots of pictures so that I could at least know what he looked like.
Announcing Timothy Michael Adams
Born March 5th at 12:25 AM
Weight: 6 lbs 12.3 ou.
Height: 18 1/4"
Here is Timothy's cute little clubbed feet! I love them so much!
They had to immediately start him on antibiotics since his spinal cord was exposed. His back was open 6 centimeters, which doesn't sound like much, but on a tiny little baby was a very big deal. I won't post pictures of the cyst here, they are pretty graphic.
They scheduled his back surgery for that afternoon. Before he went in, I had enough time to show I could get in a wheelchair, and nothing was going to stop me from seeing Timothy this time. I got to spend about 15 minutes holding his hand and gazing at his sweet perfect little face.
Timothy clung back to me. I never wanted to let him go. The surgery lasted 4 hours. They had to carefully separate the spinal cord from some tissue it had stuck to, then close up the spine. Then the Neurosurgeon reported back to us that so far the surgery was going well. The next few hours would be done by a plastic surgeon who had to cover the wound with four layers of muscle and skin. It was the really delicate work, and can be very tricky if there isn't enough skin. It went well, but the skin was very tight, so the plastic surgeon said absolutely no pressure on that part of the back for 6 weeks.
Timothy is still under heavy sedation. They kept him out for almost 24 hours after his surgery to reduce his pain. The black marks on his back were places that they were planning on slicing to get his back to stretch better: they would have left them open wounds to just heal on their own. I am so grateful he didn't have to have that done!
This was my first chance to hold my baby. It was day three. It was very awkward to support him without touching the incision site. Especially with my arthritis. I felt like he was so delicate and fragile! He was so tiny! I adored getting to hold him!
Here is Michael with Timothy. He is so courageous. There is nothing that man wouldn't do for his son. Where I have been cautious and wanting to watch, Michael has jumped in and been willing to pick him up, burp him, feed him, change his diaper: he's totally interested in being there for every step of Timothy's care. I have never met a better Daddy.
There is something so special about having a child who needs this kind of help. I have to trust so much more: Trust the Lord, first and foremost. Trust the doctors who do such delicate, invasive work on such a tiny new life. Trust the nurses who care for him 24 hours a day when I can only see him 30 minutes or so because of my recovery. Trust in my husband and his strength and optimism. And trust in myself, that I can do this: I can watch my darling baby suffer. I can accept that there is nothing I can do, but love him with all my heart and soul and pray with all the energy of my heart for him. I don't think I ever knew what that phrase meant before. I can trust that I am capable: the Lord wanted this for us, and it is going to be a marvelous blessing. I know it. Its not just something you say to make people think you're handling things well: I have literally felt the Lord calm the storm. I have felt him pacify the sailor. I know that things are going to be just right for us.
Lastly, I am learning to trust Timothy. He isn't the delicate little porcelain doll that I first thought. He is a determined, strong spirit who already has conquered harder things than most people ever experience. He's not even on pain medication most the time anymore! He is happy, and sweet. He loves life, and helps people see beauty around them, even in imperfect, difficult things. Even the nurses, who are around these amazing little spirits everyday find themselves drawn again and again back to Timothy. They just rave about his sweetness and gentle spirit and his perfect little flawed body. There is something so pure about someone who is so accepting of such difficult circumstances.
Mosiah 3:19
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