After his intense and insane birth, I was on the bed at the birthing center with my sweet Liam, just nursing him and talking with Bryce. The hard part was over! Now we could take a breath and enjoy our new little one. After a couple of minutes, the midwives came back in to do Liam’s newborn examination. They handed us a menu of lunch options and I think I settled on a teriyaki chicken bowl. The menus were soon forgotten, however, as we watched the midwives examine Liam at the foot of the bed. He was bleeding a bit from his umbilical cord (they ended up clamping it three different times) and his heart rate and oxygen levels weren’t where they should be. I could tell that the midwives were getting a little concerned. They must have checked his heart rate a dozen times–checking and double checking the numbers they were getting. They got out a tiny oxygen mask and held it up to his sweet face. He was right there at the foot of our bed, but I felt like he was miles away and I was completely helpless. Then a midwife came in and asked me what hospital was covered by our insurance and I knew this meant that we were probably going to need to transfer my sweet baby. Cue first cry session since the birth (and I’d already done a lot of crying during the birth). This was not what was supposed to happen. Tears ran down my face as I got him into his going home outfit that we had packed. Except he wasn’t going home at all.
One of the student midwives, not LDS but very compassionate and aware of our beliefs, asked if we’d like to give him a blessing. We did and then Bryce left with my baby and two midwives–one on oxygen duty, one on heart rate duty. And here’s where I became really grateful that I had chosen an unmedicated birth, even if it was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Because I wasn’t numbed, and because I hadn’t torn at all during the birth, I was able to get some clothes on and ride to the hospital with another midwife (and my placenta riding in the backseat). Less than two hours after the birth and I was up and about and, physically, feeling all right. But emotionally I was totally empty. Something was wrong with my baby and I didn’t know what it was and he wasn’t in my arms and I was heart broken.
We got to the NICU, got checked in (with lots of nurses shocked that I had just given birth and was standing there doing the mandatory 5 minute hand washing that you have to do when you enter the NICU), and I joined Bryce and the baby in an isolation room. They drew lots of blood from his poor feet, preparing for every test under the sun to be done. I was so exhausted–in body and mind–but Liam seemed to be doing all right. His oxygen levels were okay and his heart rate, though a bit irregular, wasn’t too worrisome. After several hours, we were told that he seemed fine, but that they’d like to keep him at the hospital for the usual 2 days (like most other babies born in a hospital) just to make sure. Luckily, we could room-in with him in a room set a bit apart from the rest of the NICU. The room had a big bed, a bathroom with a shower, and Liam could be in there and still be monitored by the nurses (he had leads on his body to monitor heart rate, oxygen levels, and breathing rate) and we were happy to have that option. It felt like everything was going to be fine and I was happy.
Just a couple hours after his birth, after they were done pricking his heels twenty too many times.
My little sweetheart.
Over the course of the next two days, we watched news coverage of the Boston Marathon bombing and ensuing man-hunt and of the explosion at the Texas fertilizer plant–chaos seemed to dominate the news, but it was peaceful and quiet in our little room in the corner of the NICU. And then Liam’s heart rate started worrying the hospital staff. It would fall really low (for a newborn) and then go back up. He seemed fine, but the concern was that there was something wrong with his heart. Cue crying session number two. What if something was wrong with his heart? What if this tiny little love ended up needing surgery? We were on a roller coaster of emotional highs and lows and we had just dived down again.
Bryce feeding Liam in our room. We nursed from the start, but they wanted to supplement with formula until my milk came in because his blood sugar levels were low.
They performed a 12 lead EKG on the baby and sent the results up to a pediatric cardiologist at Primary Children’s Hospital in Salt Lake City. While we waited to hear back from her, we watched as they did an ultrasound of Liam’s heart. The technician was very nice and took the time to explain what we were seeing–all the little nooks and crannies of the heart. So many places where the tiniest defect could mean big trouble. But at the end of the exam, the technician told us that he hadn’t seen anything to worry about. Of course, his wasn’t the official word, but he was experienced and we trusted his opinion. As it turns out, he was right. Liam’s heart looked structurally sound and the cardiologist sent back her analysis saying that she wasn’t worried about the electrical side of his heart, either. So, he was okay. And I was okay. And we could go home on Friday.
Stay tuned for the final installment…
