Most people can look at Wesley now and see a chubby, smiling, blue eyed, healthy baby boy. Most people have absolutely no idea what he went though for the first months of life. I am glad that he has recovered so, so fast and that he really has no outward signs of his premature delivery except for a few little scars on his belly button. However, I will always remember. I will always have those memories near my heart. I wanted to write down some of my feelings about that experience. It might be a little long, and a little personal, but I wanted to share my story. I will divide it into a few parts so it is not one really long post. If you dont want to read it, that is ok...but some might need to hear it. Maybe some have, or will go though a similar situation. Either way, I wanted to write down my feeling as I look back on the experience a year later. Sorry about any misspellings/ grammar errors and such.
I woke up at 3am on March 19th feeling really wet. Not thinking anything of it, I go to the bathroom and discover a lot of blood and clear fluid. My heart starts pounding. Thinking the worst at first, I suddenly panic thinking my baby just died. What is going on? My mind was not in a birthing mind set yet. I was only 34 weeks. I still had 6 more weeks, right?? He wasn't moving... why wasn't he moving???? From the time I found out I was pregnant, I had imagined the moment that I would have to tell Jason that it was time to go to the hospital to have a baby. I pictured smiles and excitement as he jumps out of bed, grabbing our bag, and heading out the door as I breath though contractions. Well...things never go the way we imagine, but I didn't think it would be like this. I remember standing next to Jason's side of the bed. I remember thinking...this isn't how it is supposed to go. I was so scared, I could barly utter the words "Jason...we need to go to the hospital." I didn't have a thing packed. My camera batteries were not even charged.
Driving there, my mind was racing. I held my belly tight. I didn't want to stop being pregnant yet. I must admit...I did get a few seconds of excitement when I realized I was going to have my baby. There really was no turning back. I walked into the ER, and was clueless as to where to go. I didn't really read up on where I was supposed to go yet. A security guard pointed us the way, and Jason and I made the silent, long walk to the elevators. The old elevators wobbled and shook to the 3rd floor. Who would have known that I would end up riding those old scary elevators numerous times every day for the next month.
The doctors looked at me, confirmed my water brook, and spent hours deliberating what to do. Induce, or let me go natural?? Around 1pm they finally decided to induce. The doctors didn't seem too worried which calmed my fears. Maybe they were too relaxed about it. My doctor actually told me Wesley would probably go in the NICU for a day or so, and come home with me. Therefore, I was 99% sure that he would be healthy and would come home with me.
Flash forward...at 3:52 am Wesley Hunter was born weighing 5lbs, and was 18 inches long. A big baby for being early. His weight just kind of confirmed what I already "knew"... that he was going to come home with me. There were extra nurses and doctors in the room to check him out and take him to the NICU. They let me hold him for 30 seconds or so. I had no problem giving him to the NICU, because I knew he was going to come back.
I tried to rest, but that didn't work out so well. Jason went home to get some sleep, and to try to let me sleep. The next few hours was really a blur. The doctors called every now and then to give me updates. Then, the call came that I didn't want to receive. I was alone in the room. I dont remember when the call came, but I will always remember what the doctor said. She called my room from the NICU. In a very consoling voice, yet trying to be professional, she told me my son's condition worsened really fast. She told me that he was really sick, and had to be placed on a ventilator because he was having a hard time breathing on his own. She said his little body was trying to revert to the way conditions were in the uterus, and that his blood pressure was dropping. I'm not sure exactly what else she said because my mind started spinning. Tears welled up in my eyes. I was always the strong one. I hated crying, but its all I could do. When she hung up, I knew I needed to call Jason. He answered and asked how I was. All I could say was "you need to come back" in a wobbly, blubbering, holding back tears kind of voice. I started to cry. As Oprah once put it...I dont have a cute, soft cry. It is an ugly teary, loud cry that I can't even talk through. I hate when people see my cry. All I could say was "he isn't doing well" and he asked a few more questions, but I couldn't talk by then.
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