Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Not compatible with life

The door to my room slammed open and the nurse came running in "put that baby to breast! his blood sugars are not compatible with life!"

Even in my lack of sleep  and extreme levels of pain, I got it. My son was dying.

She helped me unwrap him and rouse his groggy little body awake enough to latch on my breast.

"So you know what is happening, we have a call in to the doctor, once we get orders he will be heading to the NICU, they will just come in and take him, be prepared."

Prepared? Woman I have spent my life believing a lie told to me as a child that I would never have children. To have this neon blond baby even the 12 hours I have is more then ever dreamed possible. I haven't slept in two days because I keep waiting for him to die or just to awaken and find this all a cruel dream.

"Keep him awake" she said flicking his feet.

As I switched him to the other breast, my tired mind paused to burp him. Forgetting the life/death struggle going on.

She came back in "PUT HIM BACK TO BREAST!" She roughly rubbed him sternum to rouse him. "Their on their way. Say goodbye now."

Say goodbye? I haven't even said hello to him yet.

...and he was gone from my arms. Passed with great swiftness from nurse to nurse to incubater and so many hands reaching for him his little body disappeared from site.

The whirling hive of nurses left and the door quietly clicked shut.

I stared at it while that evil voice echoed in my head. "YOU WILL NEVER HAVE CHILDREN."

I got up, grabbed my cane  and forced my nonresponsive pelvis and back to come with me to the sink. I brushed my hair and stared at the beyond exhausted woman in the mirror. We should pack and go home. my heart said.

Corey came and stood behind me, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. Our son is dying and I can't comfort him. There is thick layer of dissociation going on mixed in with the exhaustion/fatigue of giving birth. I just want to go home and hide under the covers. He turns me to face him and wraps his arms around me.

He always knows just what to say to me.


I had wanted to have JUR at home to prevent the hospital bill. We were still trying to pay off all the debt I brought into our marriage. I had worked right up until the day they induced me. And I was due back in a few days. The only reason I didn't try a home birth was the doctor was not convinced I could have him vaginally with my messed up pelvis. Plus they though he had a goiter from the anti thyroid medication I was on.

"He would have died if we had him at home" I heard myself say. "he would have died because of stupid money!"

He held me tighter and tighter till the tears came, and we waited for word that our son was alive.

I was planning his funeral, when the call came.

"Your son is hungry" said the voice on the line.

"He is alive then?" I asked.

"Oh honey! I apologies that no one has updated you sooner, yes he is alive and doing great, his blood sugar is up and he is a hungry little man."

I put on my robe and Corey and I made our way down slowly to the NICU. I hung my cane on the edge of the wash basin as I scrubbed. 

Once done a nurse came for us. She paused in the door way looking from my dark hair to Corey's dark hair. "You're the parents of that blondie?!" she asked. 

We nodded  and she opened the door to the NICU and my ears were met with the beautiful sound of JUR screaming for a boob.

Once he was in my arms and latched on, JUR grabbed my finger and held on tight as if to say, I'm coming home with you mama.

I am coming home with you and Dad.

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