March is here! With March comes Frankie's birthday, my birthday, Springtime, Daylight Savings Time, and this year we get to add one more special day. Jesse's turning 1...Thank Goodness!
I never wrote down what happened to Jesse, but I really want to remember it, because even though it was almost tragic, I became a better mom and person because of it.
Before I even went into labor with Jesse, my friend, Alisa O. made me a CD with the song, "Little Wonders" on it. This song quickly became our Jesse's song especially for the line that says, "In the end, we will only just remember how it FEELS. I may not remember every detail about that horrific month (March, 2008), but I will ALWAYS remember how it felt and still feels!
So Jesse (if you ever read this), here's your birth story:
It was Easter, 2008. We were living in Ventura and had been up here for 3 months. We didn't have any friendships established yet, and I was worried who would take care of Bo and Frankie when Pat & I had to run to the hospital in the middle of the night. So, I knew Mary (your grandma) would be in town for the weekend and I was 38 weeks along. I had discussed my concern with my doctor and she said you were full term and it was completely safe for us to "move labor along." I went in for my 38 week appointment on Friday and she stripped my membranes. I went home, packed a bag, and went for a walk with Bo & Frankie. I also ate spicy food and drank a glass of wine to get that labor going!
By Easter Sunday nothing had happened. My doctor said drinking 3 tablespoons of Castor Oil was perfectly safe for inducing labor, so that night I drank it. Still, nothing happened! By this point I should have known that it just wasn't your time to come, but I was so preoccupied with it being convenient for everyone involved ie. Mary being close, Pat being off work, I forgot to just let God and Mother Nature take control. I even remember making a comment that I will never forget and always regret. Someone said, "Too bad you have no control over when a baby comes." I replied, "Sure I do, I just drink Castor Oil and take a little bit of the God out of it!"
The next night I drank Castor Oil again! (Side note, that stuff is disgusting and if you ever drive drunk you will find out exactly how nasty it is because I will pour an entire bottle down your throat) Anyway, I went in to labor that night. We got to the hospital about 7:30pm and I was dilated 5cm. I thought this was strange, because usually I dilate much faster. The doctor let me labor on my own for a while, and then broke my water because I wasn't dilating anymore. She (the Doctor) also gave me Pitocin, which helps induce labor, and 45 minutes later I pushed your little head right out as the doctor came running in eating half a sandwich.
One of the nurses quickly cut your cord and I turned to Pat and said, "Why didn't they let you cut the cord?" He didn't answer and his eyes were fixed on Sarah, the nurse that would ultimately save your life for the time being. Sarah said, "you guys this baby's not breathing".
From that point all I saw were the backs of about 6 sets of scrubs while the nurses administered CPR and my husbands face fixed in a way I will never forget and never want to see him looking like again! Pat was saying, "His name's Jesse, call him Jesse", as he yelled to you to please take a breath! I think I just screamed.
After roughly 1 minute you took a breath and cried! They whisked you away to an incubator where you would spend the first entire month of your life. Medically, you were diagnosed with underdeveloped lungs. Translation, you were taken out of my womb too early. Your body was big, but your organs weren't ripe.
All we knew at this point was that our perfect pregnancy that would surely lead to our perfect labor, birth and oh so perfect baby was not so perfect. Our little wonder was sick. Very sick. I asked Dr. Schick (God bless this man!) exactly how bad our little guy was. He said, "Well look around, your baby is in the direct middle of the room for instant access to him. I go to him first every time I enter the room. The worst case baby goes to this position. When I go to your baby last, it means he's in the best shape."
They continued giving you steroids for your lungs and heart, but you just weren't improving the way they expected. Your little body was so poked and prodded with IV lines that they had to put one in your head. Your little lungs just couldn't work hard enough to oxygenize your entire body. The next step was intubation, or a respirator.
I had only seen the big noisy respirators in the movies or Grey's Anatomy and the only people that put on those things were the really old or really sick. Basically they had one foot in the grave. I kept thinking this was the last step before the Doctor walks in and says, "Mrs. Jamison, would you like to hold your son before you pull his plug out?" I know I'm morbid, but these were my immediate thoughts when told about this God-awful machine!
Turns out, this horrifying machine saved your life and answered my prayers. Sometimes babies just need to rest to let everything develop and work. This was the case. With the respirator giving you breath, you were able to relax and let those organs grow. Sure we weren't out of the woods, but we were on our way!
I think you were about a week on the respirator when the Doc said it was time to try breathing on your own. Everything seems to move in slow motion in the NICU. I think you struggled for about 3 days trying to get your vitals where they wanted them, but it felt like forever! We just sat beside your bed watching the white machine with all the red numbers on it trying to will it to say the right numbers so that you could be released to come home to us.
Finally, everything stabilized! Hallelujah! I don't even remember the exact date that we brought you home. I just know that everything in the world felt right that day.
The old saying, "everything happens for a reason" rings so true to me. I've always been a hasty, instant gratification, impatient type person. I grew so much as a person and as a mother that day. I'm not as selfish anymore. Sure I try to have balance in my life, but I don't go around moping all day about not having "me time". The greatest "me time" I can ever ask for is when my adorable little men gather around me and say, read this book to ME, mommy hold ME, or play with ME, mommy. I realize that although we're an extremely lucky family, it could be taken away in the blink of an eye.
That day I learned to slow down and enjoy all the little memories and the little wonders unfolding right before my eyes. Jesse, I will always love you with all my heart. No matter how big you are, you will always be my littlest man! Happy Birthday!
