Dinosaur Train

Oliver is obsessed with the TV show, Dinosaur Train. He watches it almost every day (yes, we are horrible parents and let him watch TV almost every day. It's one of the privileges he can lose when he acts up, though, so there are many TV-free days in his life). Dinosaur Train is that rare children's television show that is actually educational (I think that stems from it being a Jim Henson production - it was created by a few of his kids) and entertaining for both kids and parents. Oliver has learned so much watching this show. He can name ten or so different types of dinosaurs. He can tell you the difference between herbivores and carnivores and he knows that T. Rex eats carrion (and that carrion means dead meat). And because it's a Jim Henson production there are some really awesome songs. Including this one:

First Week at Home in Pictures

Got milk?

One benefit to a week long stay in the NICU and an early start to pumping? Having over 100 ounces of milk in the freezer by the two week mark. This picture represents many nights out in my future (and less stress for me when Henry starts day care).

Side By Side

I'm starting to think Brian and I created the same kid twice. For your consideration, Oliver on the left and Henry on the right (both at two-ish weeks):

Two Week Wellness Visit

Ann and I took Henry in for his two week wellness visit yesterday. This is already his third visit to his pediatrician since he was discharged last Tuesday. He went once for a check up the day after he was discharged and then back for a weight check on Friday of last week to make sure he was putting on weight (and not still losing weight as had been the case).

Here are his two week stats:

Weight: 6 pounds, 4.8 ounces (5th percentile)
Height: 19 1/2 inches (10th percentile)

He's a tiny little peanut (such a change from his brother who always tipped the scales at around the 75th percentile and was over 9 pounds by the time he was two weeks old). Since his first check up with our pediatrician he has averaged a weight gain of one ounce a day. That is a good weight gain but the doctor says they really like to see babies back at their birth weight by the two week mark so his weight is still a concern. He's also still a little yellow from jaundice. So, although his next wellness visit technically shouldn't be until he's two months old (which will be on big brother's four-year birthday), Dr. Sharp would like to see him back in two weeks for another weight check and to make sure he's gotten rid of that yellow tinge to his skin.

Tuesdays With Henry - Week Two

Henry's second week was his first week at home (a fact that has me constantly trying to remember how old he is. That first week in the hospital is such a blur). Since he was in the NICU we didn't get to introduce him to as many friends and family members as we wanted to during his first week so this week was marked by lots and lots of visitors and it was great.

I don't want to jinx myself but, so far, Henry has proven to be a very laid back baby. He only cries when he's hungry (or occasionally when we change his diaper and he gets cold) and even when he's crying it doesn't last long. He's having more and more awake and alert periods every day. When I'm done feeding him he'll spend almost an hour just staring at me. It's awesome. He's not the best sleeper but he's not the worst. He sleeps for three hours in a row during the day and only two hours at night. But he doesn't struggle to go back to sleep at night (in fact, I can finish feeding him, swaddle him, and put him in his bassinet while he's still awake and he'll go to sleep. I'm wondering if this is due to his time in the NICU. He couldn't be rocked to sleep for that first week so maybe he got used to doing it himself?). The first couple of nights he was out of the NICU he struggled with the dark and the quiet and was up every hour or so but he seems to have gotten used to the fact that when we sleep at night at home that there aren't florescent lights shining in his eyes, nurses gabbing away, or monitors alarming every other minute. But he can still do his day naps through all sorts of distractions - music playing, dogs barking, Oliver being Oliver, etc.

He has also really come around on his eating. He's waking up hungry and chowing down like a champ. We kept the rented scale for a week to watch his intake and he's now getting over two ounces at each feeding which is perfect for his needs. I am still pumping to keep my supply up but we aren't supplementing with bottles anymore since he's filling himself up by nursing. This has all been quite a relief for me. I was terrified that since we didn't get started nursing until he was four days old, that it might not work out for us (so many birth and pregnancy books can really freak you out with their insistence that the baby needs to be put to the breast as soon as he pops out in order to establish a strong breastfeeding relationship) but we seem to have turned a corner and I'm hopeful that we will have a long and successful nursing relationship.

Here are the pictures from this week. I still haven't found a time to take these that he's willing to open his eyes. Maybe next week?

Oliver the Big Brother

Oliver has shown an equal measure of love towards and genuine disinterest in Henry since he got home. This has proven to be a perfect combination. Oliver will come home from school, check in on "Baby Henry" and then go off to do his own thing. He likes to help me out when I am nursing Henry (brings me water, etc.) and is really interested in the whole breast feeding thing (my favorite moment so far has been Oliver asking me: "Can I make milk out of mines (meaning his nipples), too?"). He tells Henry he loves him and asks to give him kisses but for the most part he leaves the baby alone.

He's only really be interested in holding Henry the first day he was home. So, we got him set up on the couch, put Henry is his arms, and took a few pictures. After a few minutes, Oliver looked at me and said: "I'm done. Can I have your iPad instead?"

We haven't really dealt with any jealousy issues yet. He seems to understand that when it's time for me to feed Henry, that I have to do it right then - that Henry can't wait. But we are dealing with the residual stress of what our lives have been like for the last three months. I knew that my hospital stays were difficult on Oliver but it's only been since I've been home that I realize how difficult. From time to time, he will say things like: "When you go back to the hospital, I will miss you." And I realize that he's not entirely confident that the difficulties are behind us. So, I'm trying to find ways of assuring him that I'm not going back to the hospital without making him any promises I can't keep and without making him think it was Henry's fault that I was there in the first place. This last piece has been especially difficult since it's hard not to say: "Now that the baby's out, I don't need to go back to the hospital." Every day he seems a little more confident that I'm here to stay.

A Thank You (Part One)

Post by Brian

It’s been documented here, we had a tough pregnancy, and there are a few things I wanted to say, and a few people I wanted to thank. This will take two parts. The second part is aimed at the countless helpers who softened our hardship, and the first part is aimed at one person.

I’ve never once worried about my wife. It sounds terrible to say, but anyone who knows her knows why. Elizabeth is the epitome of competence, she doesn’t need anyone to worry about her. It’s wasted energy, and she hates waste. She’s been asked to handle tough times in her life, and she’s handled them with something that resembles grace, but angrier. Over the past 4 months, she dealt with bleeding, bed rest, and the constant weight of having a small child in her belly that was having a very tough time. She didn’t blink. Everyday she got up, put one foot in front of the other, laughed, cried, yelled, and nurtured. She didn’t always do these things with a smile, but she always did them as Elizabeth. I simply can’t get enough of this woman. 

Most of you reading this know us, and you also know that I don’t tell Elizabeth how I feel on Facebook, or publicly at all. Most of the time we play the role of the self-deprecating, old married couple, poking at each other, making jokes at the other’s expense. We don’t take things too seriously. But driving to the hospital, watching Elizabeth unsuccessfully attempting to will Henry to kick her, knowing that things were bad, but not knowing how bad, I almost panicked. Then I remembered who I am married to, and a calm came over me. This is Elizabeth, after all, and whatever happens, we will do the things that need to be done. My wife later remarked how calm she thought I was, and she was right, but I’m not sure she ever knew why. 

She did all the things that needed to be done. After a few more blips on the radar, we are home with a new baby boy, and Elizabeth will be running Town Lake before we know it. We’ll forget the heaviness we felt over the past 4 months, and we’ll mostly remember when we acted with compassion and bravery. I’ll forget that I worried about Henry all the time, worried about Oliver all the time, worried about the house, the dogs, my job, car, waist line, book group, politics, college, and fantasy football, but I never worried about Elizabeth.

Thank you, Elizabeth. I love you.

Sleepy Henry

We took Henry to the doctor for his follow up yesterday. The NICU doctor wanted him to get a weight check and a bilirubin level check to make sure he's gaining weight and that his bili level isn't rebounding too high. Unfortunately, he's not gaining weight at this point. In fact, he lost about an ounce since he left the hospital. His bili levels were slightly higher than they were when he was discharged but not so high that the doctor thought they warranted further treatment.

The bigger concern is his continued weight loss. All babies lose weight after they are born but they don't like to see a baby lose more than ten percent of his birth weight and Henry is coming really close to that threshold. So, after the doctor's appointment, we decided to go down to Special Addition (a maternity and nursing boutique here in town) because I knew they had scales that we could use to see how he's been doing while he's nursing. 

We got down there and weighed Henry and then I nursed him for about thirty minutes and then we weighed him again. The scale told us he only took in .6 ounces of breast milk during that time. A baby Henry's size and age needs at least 16 ounces a day to thrive. Henry eats eight times a day so, if that was a typical nursing session, then he's only been getting around five ounces a day. We decided to rent a scale so we could track his intake from home and make sure he's getting enough.

We brought the scale home and I've been weighing him at each feeding to see what he's getting at each feeding and the numbers haven't been good. He'll nurse for twenty minutes or so and the most he's gotten in one feeding is 1.2 ounces. Part of the problem is that he is just so sleepy. Every time I go to nurse him (and I've been having to wake him up every three hours to do so), this is what I deal with:

He can't stay awake long enough to get a good feeding. Jaundice can make baby's sleepy but he can't flush the jaundice unless he eats and he can't eat unless he gets more energy. It's a vicious cycle. So, I've made the executive decision to start supplementing his nursing with bottles of breast milk (I'm still pumping and have tons of milk in the freezer and fridge). I feel like if we can get him to eat more, then he might perk up a bit and be more interested eating. With Oliver I was terrified of introducing the bottle this early but I feel like it's the best thing for Henry right now. I feel like priority number one is getting more food in him and priority number two is getting him back on the breast if he ends up having troubles nursing because of the bottles.

So far it seems to be working. I wake him up, weigh him, nurse him, weigh him again, and then give him a bottle to bring his total intake at that feeding up to two ounces, and then I pump. It's an exhausting schedule for me since it means that each feeding takes over an hour but I know it's what's best for Henry. He hasn't had any problems at this point going from breast to bottle and back again (although he certainly does suck those bottles dry quickly) so maybe we will just end up with the benefits of putting some weight on him and won't have to face any struggles with nipple confusion/preference, etc. Fingers crossed.

Tuesdays With Henry - Week One (Homecoming Edition)

You may remember the insane project I took on during Oliver's first year of life - Sundays With Oliver. I took a picture of him with the same stuffed dog on every Sunday of his first year (he was born on a Sunday). As soon as I got pregnant people started asking me if I would be doing this again with the next one. Although keeping up with the project with Oliver proved to be rather difficult as he got older (and more mobile), I love looking at the results and am determined that Henry will have the same documentation of his first year. I decided to use the same stuffed dog so that we could go back and compare Henry's pictures to Oliver's.

So, here it is, the first edition of Tuesdays With Henry. The first week of Henry's life was one of the most difficult weeks of my life. For a time there we didn't think we would have him home with us in time for his one week birthday. But he made great (and fast) improvements in the NICU and after a successful night of rooming in, we got to bring him home with us today. We are so grateful to have our whole family under the same roof. It feels amazing.

Here are the pictures for the first week:

First Day in the NICU

Since we delivered Henry at practically 37 weeks (or full term) - seriously, he was only twelve hours shy of that mark when he was born - a stay in the NICU was the furthest thing from my mind when he was born. I felt like we'd been so fortunate not to deliver him at 26 weeks and again at 34 weeks. I naively thought 37 weeks was the best case scenario and we'd be taking our little guy home with us when I was discharged and everything would be fine. So, to say I wasn't prepared for him to end up in the NICU would be a massive understatement.

After my visit with Henry in my postpartum room, two nurses? doctors? - I'm not really sure - came from the NICU to take him upstairs. I was so upset and so scared as they wheeled him out. Brian went up to the NICU with them so he could see them get him settled in and I don't even vaguely remember what I did in the meantime although pictures seem to indicate that I watched Dinosaur Train with Oliver on my iPad.

A few hours later my anesthesia had worn off enough for me to try to get up if I felt up to it. I did, of course, since I knew that the sooner I got up the sooner I could see Henry again. I got up and walked to the bathroom and back. A few hours after that I was ready to get up and head to the NICU (in a wheelchair, obviously. At Seton the postpartum rooms are on the second floor of one wing and the NICU is on the eighth floor of another. Some really poor planning. And, of course, my room what the furthest from the NICU. I think that was because they wanted to put me as far away from rooms with babies in them).

They wheeled me up to the unit and Brian walked me through the steps of getting into the unit. You get a passcode you have to give them every time in order to buzzed into the unit. Then you have to go straight to the sinks and wash and sanitize your hands like you're scrubbing in for surgery basically. The unit is made up of six bays that hold eight babies each - four on either side of a middle aisle. Each baby's area has a curtain that can be pulled for privacy but for the most part it is all open. Henry was in bay five - the first baby on the left of the bay.

We got up to his bedside and I sat there and cried looking at him hooked up to the oxygen. At this point he had a cannula in his nose and they were trying to push room air into him (that is, they were pushing 21% oxygen and trying not to have to push a higher percentage). But he was breathing pretty rapidly. I seem to remember that they let me try nursing on that first visit (in subsequent visits I wasn't allowed to nurse him as his respiratory rate was much too high but I can't remember if I was allowed to try during the first or second visit). He wasn't too interested in nursing so I just held him for a bit and cried. A doctor came and talked to us about his treatment and said that they were going to try to keep pushing the oxygen through the cannula in his nose but that if he continued to struggle to breathe they would put him on a CPAP. They also had started an IV so they could push some antibiotics in. They weren't sure if his struggles were from an infection at that point so they wanted to push the antibiotics just in case (they were waiting on test results to see if there was an infection present). I asked the doctor how long he thought Henry would be there and he said that it could be anywhere from a few days to a few weeks.

All I could think as the doctor explained to me how hard it was for Henry to breathe was how much I had wanted us to do the c section that day and how horrible I felt because he obviously wasn't ready. The only thing that kept me from completely blaming myself for his stay in the NICU is the conversation I had with Dr. Reich at my bedside earlier that morning. When I had asked her if my anxiety could have a say in whether we delivered Henry that day or not and she said no. If not for that no I'm not sure I would have been able to stop myself for feeling fully responsible for his struggles and time in the NICU. Besides, during all of those anxious days after my second bleed, I had told Brian repeatedly that I was ready for someone else to be able to take care of Henry - that I couldn't handle the burden of being solely responsible for his well being anymore - and that was exactly what I had now... an army of nurses and doctors to take over where I had left off.

I made that first visit to the NICU a short one since I was still feeling the effects of my surgery. I headed back to my room and began my rigorous pumping schedule - pumping every three hours during the day and four hours at night (so, I was a pretty lucky new mom and got to sleep four hour stretches for the first nights of his life).

Henry's Birth Story: Part Three

My time in recovery came to an end and I was moved to my postpartum room. On my way, Analisa stopped my bed at the window of the transition nursery and I got to stare at Henry for a bit. They had tried taking him off of the oxygen hood at that point but he was still struggling to breathe. The nurse in the nursery held him up so I could get a better look at him and then we continued on to my room (I somehow scored the biggest postpartum room in the hospital. Analisa told me it was the room that L&D nurses requested when they delivered. It was huge).

I met my postpartum nurse and she got me set up with a breast pump since I still hadn't gotten to try nursing. I pumped for a bit (and was shocked to actually get some colostrum) and then sat and waited. After awhile, Dr. Grady came in with Henry and I finally got to hold him for the first time. Leigh told me that she'd like to give Brian and I some privacy but that she had to observe Henry when he was with me to make sure he wasn't in any distress. I could have cared less if she or five hundred other people had been in the room.

The way she managed to get him out of the transition nursery and into my room before his move to the NICU was she wrote an order for skin to skin contact. Sometimes baby's that are struggling to breathe can improve by being put on their mother's chest skin to skin. Something about the mother's breathing helping to regulate the baby's. So, we unswaddled him down to his diaper and tucked him into my hospital gown. I can't even begin to describe how amazing it felt to finally have his little body in my arms and against my chest.

After a few minutes my mom arrived with Oliver (she had driven in from Midland and picked him up from school on her way into town). So, I got to see Oliver see his little brother for the first time (I was afraid the timing wasn't going to work out and that he was going to see Henry in the transition nursery and I would miss the moment). Oliver came in and was so excited to see his baby brother. He looked at the baby, looked at me, looked at my open gown, and said: "Mommy, why are you so naked?" It was the perfect reaction.

An hour later the time I had been dreading came. It was time for Henry's move to the NICU. He was still grunting and breathing shallowly and rapidly so he needed the extra attention. Handing him over to the two people who came to wheel him up there was the hardest thing I think I've ever done. It killed me to say good-bye and to not be able to go with him.

After they left I spent some time visiting with Oliver and my mother but my mind was upstairs with Henry. I was determined to get up there to see him as soon as I could but considering I still couldn't move my legs I had to wait for awhile. 

This pretty much brings his birth story to an end. At the very least it closes the birth chapter and opens the chapter of his stay in the NICU. This obviously wasn't the birth I had imagined for Henry or myself. Like I said in the previous post, I'm struggling with the vocabulary of having a c section. Did I give birth? Or was he just delivered? It's hard to think of myself as the one doing any acting in this whole scenario since all I did was lay there. But it's our birth story no matter what words I use to describe it. It was one of the most joyous and difficult days of my life and it set me off on a week long challenge of living with a baby in the NICU. 

Henry's Birth Story: Part Two

While we were waiting for noon to roll around my nurse went about getting everything and everyone ready for the surgery. I had planned on talking to Dr. Reich about what would happen at a c-section at my appointment on Wednesday so I had no idea what to expect. The nurse went through what would happen step by step and although a lot of it sounded scary it really helped to put my mind at ease to have her describe the room and what would happen. The anesthesiologist came and talked to me about the type of anesthesia I would have and what I could expect it to feel like before, during, and after the surgery. They gave Brian a really styling outfit and me a lovely hat and we waited.

(Side note: People have asked what's going on in this picture. Unfortunately, I have no idea.)

Before the surgery I had to have an IV of fluids and one of antibiotics so my nurse got those started. Labor and Delivery was super busy that day (and stayed that way through our entire hospital stay) so the nurse that had started getting me ready for the surgery didn't end up being my nurse for the rest of the day. My new nurse was named Analisa and she was amazing. She had a personality that I immediately clicked with and she kept me calm and smiling and laughing up until we went to the OR and even through into recovery.

Dr. Reich came in about ten minutes before go time and talked a little more about the procedure. I had been curious about what she would do about my placenta. Did she cut through it or have to do a higher incision since my placenta was in front and low lying? She said that they always tried to cut low enough to miss the placenta but that they could safely go through it if they needed to. 

We finished up some last minute details and then it was time to head to the OR. Brian followed my wheelchair down the hall but he had to sit outside of the actual OR while they got my anesthesia started and prepped me for surgery. As I've mentioned before, I've never actually had surgery so my only experience with ORs is from TV and the movies. And it seems to me that in those mediums the OR is always a dimly lit room which I guess looks good on TV but is pretty impractical (I mean, you want the doctor to be able to actually see what they are cutting, right?). But, anyway, that's what I knew of ORs so I was surprised to be wheeled into a screaming bright, freezing room. 

There were eight to ten people already in the room getting ready and they immediately started introducing themselves to me and asking me a billion questions. Within minutes of being helped on to the table, four or five people were coming at me from all angles, attaching wires, checking IVs, telling me how to curve my back for the spinal, etc. and I was instantly overwhelmed. I was sitting up on the table, facing a bright white wall and my L&D nurse, Analisa, and I was scared. I couldn't curve my back the right way, I couldn't understand what they were asking me to do with my arms. I was just overwhelmed. Dr. Reich had come in by that point and instantly recognized that I was feeling anxious and scared. She came around to my side of the table, stood in front of me, and started asking me about my tattoos. I told her about each one and we talked a little about my studies in South Asia. Just the act of talking about something calmed me down and the spinal was in and I was lying down on the table in no time. 

They finished prepping me, set up a drape at my chest level, and then someone called for Brian to come in. I was still so nervous and had the chills so they covered up my chest with a warm blanket. Brian came in and sat down by my head. When he sat down, someone popped over the drape and introduced herself as Dr. Grady, the pediatrician who would be attending Henry's birth. I immediately recognized her as a friend of Kelly's and said: "You're Leigh!" She looked surprised and I explained that we were really good friends with Dauphin and Kelly. She said: "Y'all are Oliver's parents? I've heard so much about that kid!" It felt so good to know that I was in Dr. Reich's hands and Henry was in Dr. Grady's. These are the exact people we would have chosen to attend his birth if we'd had the option.

Then it was time for the procedure to start. I told Brian: "Talk to me." He said: "About what?" And I said: "Anything." I needed to concentrate on something other than what was happening behind the drape. Dr. Reich had started the surgery and I could catch small pieces of her speaking to the person assisting her with the procedure and I didn't want to hear about the cutting, or going through layers of muscles, or the "uterine incision." I just wanted Brian to distract me until Henry was out. So, Brian talked. And talked. And talked. And kept my mind off of the tugging and pressure I was feeling while Dr. Reich worked her way down to Henry.

Brian talked the whole time but the thing I remember most is him asking me to help him with the lyrics to the Herman's Hermits song, "I'm Henry the VIII." So, while our son was being delivered Brian and I were reciting (almost as a chant): I'm Henry the eighth, I am. Henry the eighth, I am, I am. I got married to the widow next door. She'd been married seven times before. And everyone was a Henry (Henry!). She wouldn't have a Willie or a Sam. I'm her eighth old man, I'm Henry. I'm Henry the eighth, I am." I'm sure Dr. Reich thought we were crazy if she could hear us. 

The surgery up until the time they got Henry out seemed to take forever but Brian ensures me it was really quick. I couldn't feel any pain but I could feel lots of pulling and tugging. Finally they got to the part where they were going to take Henry out of my uterus (is it obvious that I'm really struggling with the vocabulary of this whole thing? It's hard for me to describe his birth as something that I did and not something that was done to me and to him). There was a ton of pressure and then there was a loud cry. I remember staring into Brian's eyes and we both immediately teared up. He was out and he was screaming! 

They held him up so I could seem him and then he and Brian went over to the warmer and scale to check him over. He gave a few strong cries but then got relatively quiet. They weighed him, dried him off and swaddled him and then brought him over to me so I could see him again. I spent a few minutes gazing at him (it's a really weird angle to see your child from) and then it was time for him to go to the transition nursery. 

I don't remember at that point if I was told (or if they even knew) that he was having trouble breathing. The whole timeline of the rest of the day is a little hazy for me. But Brian went with him to the nursery and Dr. Reich set about stitching me back up. I remember very little about that part except her saying that my abs were really difficult to get through and that she could tell that I was an athlete. I also asked her what happened with my placenta and she said they ended up having to go through it because it was so low they couldn't get low enough to cut around it. So, it seems my low lying placenta was, in fact, a previa and I wasn't going to have a vaginal birth either way.

When they were done with me they wheeled me to recovery where I was started on a pitocin drip (that would last for the next 24 hours) and where my L&D nurse massaged my stomach every fifteen minutes to get my uterus to contract. Even with the spinal that HURT. I kept telling her that she used to be my favorite person but that we weren't friends anymore. Everyone (the crowd included Ann, Richard, Liz, and Gianna at this point) was out at the transition nursery watching Henry get checked out and I think that I was still ignorant at this point that he was having problems.

Brian had my phone so I was pretty cut off from what was happening. After awhile Ann came in and checked in on me. And then Richard. And then Liz. And then Brian. I'm sure by this point I had been told that he was struggling but I honestly have no idea when I was told or who told me. I do remember Dr. Grady coming in at some point late in my time in recovery and explaining to me that Henry was "grunting"and breathing really quickly. She told me that when babies are born vaginally, the act of pushing them through the birth canal clears the amniotic fluid out of their lungs. Because Henry didn't experience that (and didn't even experience the contractions of active labor) he had a bunch of fluid in his lungs and that was causing him to struggle to breathe. They had him on an oxygen hood to see if they could regulate his breathing but at this point he needed to stay in the transition nursery so they could keep an eye on him. (Usually the baby is brought to the mother in recovery so they can start to bond, nurse, etc. There was another couple in recovery at the same time as me and I remember how my heart broke when I heard the sound of their baby crying as the mother finally got a chance to hold her daughter. A chance I still hadn't had).

She also told me that babies only get six hours in the transition nursery and then they have to be discharged either to the mother's postpartum room or to the NICU. I do remember this was the first time anyone had said "NICU" to me. She told me she would give him every minute of those six hours to see if he would improve but she wanted me to be prepared in case he did need a stay in the NICU. I immediately broke down - I was so tired and so upset. I mean, we were twelve hours shy of full term, how could we be talking about the NICU? And I hadn't even held him yet. Dr. Grady listened to be bawl and then made me a promise. She promised me he wouldn't go to the NICU before I could get a chance to hold him. She looked me straight in the eye and said: "You will hold him before he goes to the NICU if he has to go. I will bring him to you myself." That put me more at ease although I was still really upset.

To be continued...

Henry's Birth Story: Part One

Ann arrived in Austin on Monday afternoon. I was so relieved to have her in town and to know that we would have someone staying with us from here on out. I knew nights would be much easier on me knowing that she was down the hall and that Brian and I could leave at a moment's notice if we needed to. I went to bed Monday night around ten feeling much calmer than in the past weeks although I was slightly unsettled by the number of contractions I had been feeling that evening.

Around midnight Brian came to bed. I got up to go to the bathroom and immediately started to bleed again. And this time it was more than the two times before. Brian went and told his mom we were leaving for the hospital and I stayed in the bathroom waiting for the bleeding to stop enough to get in the car. It wasn't really slowing down so we got in the car anyway. I called the doctor while Brian drove us speedily but safely to the hospital. I felt Henry moving around during our drive but I didn't let that stop me from telling Brian to run every red light he saw. All I could think while we were driving was: We are going to meet our baby today. Dr. Reich had already said that if I came in bleeding after 36 weeks she'd do the c section. I was 36 weeks and 6 days. Only one day short of being considered full term.

We got to the hospital and went up to Labor and Delivery. They got us on the monitors right away and Henry's heart rate was strong and steady. I was having numerous contractions, however. The doctor on call asked the nurse to check my cervix. She tried but it was so high she couldn't even find it (a good sign that I wasn't going into active labor). I stabilized after about fifteen or twenty minutes at the hospital so the on call nurse decided to let Dr. Reich make the call about whether or not to perform the c section that day. The on call doctor felt more comfortable letting my doctor who knows my whole case history decide. I was grateful that I would be under Dr. Reich's care but I was so frustrated by the thought of waiting another six hours to know what would be happening. My anxiety reached its peak during that wait. I was determined to convince Dr. Reich to just deliver him. I couldn't take the waiting anymore.

Around 6:30 or so, Henry's heart rate dropped (what they call a "variable") and stayed low for a few minutes. That drop was enough to convince the on call doctor that a c section was probably the most likely outcome for us that day. So, on that news I sent Brian home to pack a bag of clothes, etc. while I waited for Dr. Reich to come in. In the meantime, my nurse set about getting everything ready in case we did end up in surgery.

Dr. Reich came in around eight Tuesday morning and checked out the monitoring history including the variable. She thought the variable was concerning but he had recovered from it really quickly. While she was looking over everything I asked her what she thought we would do. She said she wasn't sure at that point. I asked her if my anxiety could get a vote on our plan and she looked at me and said: "No, it can't." At that moment I was so disappointed that she wouldn't take my mental wellbeing into account but she explained that she had to do what was best for Henry and that if we could keep him in safely that we should do that. She was going to consult with the perinatologist and get their opinion about whether it was safe to proceed with the c section or if we should wait. So, I continued to wait (not so patiently). I felt that by putting off delivering him we were just sitting around waiting for it to become an emergency situation. Everyone kept telling me we weren't delivering because he "wasn't in any distress" which translated in my mind to: "We are going to wait to deliver him until he's in distress." I was so frustrated.

About an hour later I started to experience some fresh bleeding. It was nowhere near what I had experienced the night before but it was the first time in all of this that I had started to bleed again so soon. Not long after that the nurse came back and told me that Dr. Reich had decided to do the c-section that day - at noon. Apparently the perinatologist thought it was the best way to proceed and the fact that I had started bleeding again meant that the safest plan of action was to deliver him as soon as possible. We scheduled the surgery for 11:30 AM. So, we had a bit more of a wait but I felt calmer knowing we would meet Henry soon.

To Be Continued...

Introducing...

Henry Charles Contine
Born February 12, 2013 at 36 weeks and 6 days gestation via c-section
6 pounds, 8 ounces
19 inches
Absolutely beautiful.