Motherhood crept up on me one sunny May day. I was just shy of 32 weeks and walked out of teaching my 4th period class when something felt quite different. I waited an hour or so, thinking the odd feeling of pressure would just go away. Finally by the end of the school day I decided to call my husband and head for the hospital. I remember us joking during the car ride saying we were going to be parents today. Little did we know, we were right!
We arrived at the hospital, a little embarrassed that this was a total false alarm, thinking it was no big deal really. I was hooked up to a machine that monitored both myself and the little one. About an hour in the action began! Out of nowhere my son’s heart rate dropped. The first time he recovered on his own, however the second time it got scary and the doctors knew it was time to do something. Considering I had no drugs at this point, I was quickly put under and the next thing I knew, I woke up and they told me I had a son….and he was ALIVE. This was officially the “shock of my life”. How could this happen so quickly?
Instantly a doctor from the NICU came in the recovery room and talked to us about our son. She explained that he was stable but had a very long way to go. I can honestly say I was scared of what I was going to see the first time I laid eyes on my son. I just pictured this feeble, skeleton looking thing, but to my surprise his body looked completely normal. He was quite big really, considering how early he came weighing 4lbs. 14oz. What made the view so scary was the fact that he was in a small plastic rectangular box (incubator) with a large mask covering his face and cocooned in a web of tubes and wires that were monitoring and assisting his every breath.
The next four days were complete torture because I wasn’t able to have the privilege or feel the joy of holding my baby. He couldn’t be taken out of the incubator and wore the large mask which hid his cute little face. It made me appreciate that moment of cradling him in my arms so much after waiting so long to hold my baby.
The next day was the hardest day thus far…the day I was released from the hospital. I had to leave my baby there with the nurses and doctors. I didn’t get to get to bundle him up and take him home for the big home welcoming. During this time I began to journal. A co-worker of mine suggested it to me because she had been through this very experience of having to leave her baby in the hospital. Each day from here on out I vowed to write in my journal every single detail from every visit with my baby. Sometimes I even used it as a diary for my own thoughts just to get things out.
Throughout this marathon event there were many ups and downs. I can remember being excited when he wouldn’t have a heart rate drop for 6 hours or stop breathing after a bottle. Those little things that we take for granted were the things that I worried myself to death over for months. I can remember that sick feeling I would get when I would call the NICU in the middle of the night to check on him…in hopes that all was well (as well as it could be). I thought I was going to go crazy before he’d get out of that incubator, my child could not hold his temperature. He was in the incubator and had the feeding tube in for an entire month, which seemed like years.
After a grueling month and a half, daily trips back and forth to the hospital, and a bazillion journal entries later my baby finally got to come home.
Welcome home Kaz Preston Clay! He came home on a monitor because of frequent apnea and heart rate drops, and yes it went off many, many times. Every day was a challenge (especially those feedings every 3 hours) because of his pre-maturity, needing to stick to a schedule is more important than ever. On a positive note, the NICU helped with that because they had him on a schedule from day one and now we just had to follow it. Looking beyond the schedule those same nurses in the NICU were my friends, probably my only friends. If I wasn’t talking to a family member, updating them about Kaz’s current status, I was talking to the wonderful nurses in the NICU.
The NICU was literally my life for a month and a half. I spent every morning and afternoon, even some nights there during this season of my life. I am so thankful for the great care and keeping that Kaz received throughout his stay and more importantly thankful for God’s hand, helping to heal him and see me through this storm in our life.
Pro-Journal!
I can look back, reading the pages in my journal with thankfulness and continued faith. I see God’s work in every step of the way that my son progressed and how every bit unfolded with life at the end, which can only point to faith, hope, and love that I hold dear.
