My baby, the last of seven children, is getting married today in Calgary, Alberta. Where has the time gone? I remember wanting that one more child, being surprised when I knew he was to be, and grateful for this third miracle baby. I had had a tubal reversal, after ten and a half years, and had a baby a year. Here was another new miracle. A Mother knows when there are more babies to come.
Jordan was born 8 weeks early. I was doing a Women’s Workshop in Calgary and felt a sharp tugging pain. I went to a friend’s house to rest before the two hour drive home. I slept for a short time and woke up needing to push. Frantically we rushed to the Foothill’s Hospital, with me riding on the palms of my hands so no bump would cause me to push. Arriving at the hospital, I was hooked up, in the emergency ward, to the monitors and was told I was not having contractions, that my bladder was full and I was merely feeling pressure. My body disagreed. A mother knows.
They admitted me, because I was frantic and, I believe, to appease me. The movement from the gurney to the bed in the maternity ward immediately caused a wetness from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head. I was told that my bladder should be relieved and the pressure should go. To which, I offered the thought that I had never wet myself to my head before. Immediately, I felt a little blurb and shouted at the nurse. She was put out butt she checked and immediately said, “I will be right back. I am going to call the resident.” She left me alone, wondering if I had had a baby and if I should do something for it because there was no noise. A million thoughts raced through my mind before the resident ran in. Absolutely no pain, just an overwhelming need to push and an overriding need not to have this baby this early took over. I told them my last baby took twenty minutes to be born and I knew what transition felt like.
The resident lifted the blanket, trying to calm me down by saying he was going to relieve my bladder. Upon the same moment, he shouted at the nurse to get the Intensive Care Delivery Room and Staff ready. The nurse told me to “Huff” and not bear down. I huffed alrighty! “Huff” became something else as I began a mantra: I told you I was having this baby and now I am not going to have this baby because you said I wasn’t having a baby so I am not having this baby because….” All the way down the corridor to the birthing room. They continued to tell me to huff. I continued to blather and was carefully slid on to the birthing table. At which point, the Dr. told me I could bear down. I refused, saying I was not having this baby because they said I wasn’t. (shock does incredible things to the mind.) He told me I had no choice, and I felt him apply pressure and “bloop” baby was born.
Absolute panic for the seconds it takes to know your newborn has not breathed, took over. I begged them to make him cry. They explained he was too weak. Finally they lifted into a care bassinette and there were many working on him. I felt as if I were floating over above the baby. They finally brought him over to me for a moment to ease my panic. He was struggling to breath, this little orange haired baby and I begged them to take him and help him. I was told he weighed just under three pounds and that, because they had not given me the shot that developed his lungs prior to birth, he was struggling. Had they only believed me…a mother knows.
In the meantime the Doctor who was in charge of me began fussing with me and telling the nurse to come back because I was hemorrhaging badly and had gone into shock. There was a long period of time that I was on the table with the sound of metal clanking, the sound of my baby being taken into another area, and the feeling that I wanted to float along with him.
The next thing I knew, it was late in the night and I awakened to an anxious feeling that I needed to see my baby. I rang the bell and told the nurse I needed to see my baby. She went out and checked and they came with a stretcher to take me down to the High Priority Neonatal Nursery. Just as they got me on to the stretcher, a nurse came in and said that I needed to sign some papers because my baby needed surgery immediately. A mother knows. A mother knows.
They wheeled the stretcher into a small room where lights were high and nurses were in constant movement. The beeps and whirs, the sense of angst in the room was palpable. The nurse in charge was surprised to see me so quickly and I told her I had awakened with a feeling of urgency. She said, “A mother knows!”
For three weeks, I visited my baby, first in the High Priority Intensive Neonatal Ward, then Medium Priority Intensive Neonatal Ward, and each visit, a bassinette was missing, a mother grieving, more mother’s pacing the halls, a baby dark and gone in a bassinette in the hall. I was haunted and all I could think of was getting my baby moved down to the hospital near home. He needed to be home and safe and I was not leaving the baby there without me. A mother knows.
It did not take long for my baby to thrive, partly through my prayer and fierce willing he should live. .. mostly, a miracle. A mother knows.
Jordan has always been a gentle spirit and he has this glow about him, of goodness and an angelic quality. I have missed a great many of his important moments, but I was there for his most important moment and have considered him a great blessing to the world. Today he becomes a blessing to his new wife, and she to him. A Mother knows.
Tags: Journal Blog by Shewolf
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