This entry is being written to the best of my ability from memory 7 days later, as well as from a and a few scant notes I had taken that day.
My boys arrived last night. I can’t believe they are here. I only saw them for a few moments last night, and I saw no more than their eyes and noses. I did not know their birth weights until several hours later, and still don’t know how long they are. I keep forgetting to ask.
Calista is off with Bob and Cody and I hope she’s ok. Bob and Cody have a daughter Calista’s age, and a son who is about 18 months old. Hopefully, they will have fun and Calista will manage until we figure out what is going on.
I made some calls last night in my morphine-induced state. I am certain I must have talked to my mom — in fact, I think I learned their birth weights from my doctor as I was on the phone with mom. I talked to Lindsay, who actually did not believe me when I said they boys were born. I had called her from my cell and she missed my call. I had left a message, but she didn’t listen to it before she called back, so she had no idea.
I learned last night that morphine — when given with (or is it via?) a spinal –makes you very itchy. My head and face itchy like crazy and they’ve been giving me Benadryl for it. My face is dry and scratched from clawing at it all night.
Skip came by at 9 am this morning before going to Seattle. He brought me things from home. I have pictures of the boys on my laptop that I look at over and over. I don’t know who is who in the pictures. Skip has told me that the picture of him with a baby is he and Nate.
I got an update from the NICU in Seattle after Skip started driving down there. The boys are doing well. Ace is off of the ventilator and on to CPAP, and Nate was being a little lazy with his breathing and still on his ventilator, but they hope to move him to CPAP soon.
I started pumping breast milk at 10 am, hoping to get my supply to come in and get some milk down to the boys. I was given the option to be discharged today (3 days earlier than a normal post c-section discharge) so I could go be with the boys, but there’s still quite a bit of pain and as much as I am aching to go meet my boys and be with them, I know I need to stay here and get better before I can go.
Cody brought Calista to visit me today. She didn’t know that the babies were born yet. I told her when she arrived and showed her pictures. She was so excited she left the room to tell Jenna. I tihnk Cody said that Calista told Jenna, “My babies are here! I’m a big sister!”
She came back a while later and we talked. It is so good to see her and know she is doing all right — especially after the paramedics and commotion at the house last night. My baby girl is now the big sister.
Tegan, Skip’s boss and our friend, stopped by to pick up a prescription for me that I will need when I leave. We visited for a while. It’s nice to have more company while things are still so confusing.
I spent my day pumping every three hours, answering phone calls, and taking pain medications. I’ve tried to stand three times now, and it’s not going so well. The pain is excruciating when I try to stand upright. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
Our neighbor and friend, Tammy, stopped by the house for me and brought some other things, like my breast pump and some other medications that I had at home and will need when I leave. She stayed with me for a little bit and then had to go. The visit was nice. She’s so kind.
The most recent update I had from Skip today was that Ace is off of CPAP and breathing room air. He’s gotten to hold him, and Ace had his first cry when Skip held him. Skip said his cry is small.
Nate is off of his ventilator and on CPAP now. He’s a little behind Ace in progress, but they are both doing really well and we hope that the progress continues. The pediatrician from Bellingham stopped by the hospital in Seattle and she said she thinks they’ll be back in Bellingham to complete their nursery care in just a couple of weeks. It seems like it might be a quick trip through the NICU, but even a few weeks feels like forever. I remind myself that the first few days are when things are the most uncertain, and though the progress today was good, we can have a setback at any time. I want to be optimistic, but realistic as well.
I am lonely at St. Joe’s. I miss Skip and am worried about how Calista is doing. I am worried about the babies and continue to study the pictures Skip gave to me. I know that the baby in the picture with Skip is Nate, and by studying the placement of the monitors on the baby in the picture, I am able to slowly figure out who is who in many of the other pictures. In pictures taken before they had any monitors on them, I don’t know which of my babies I am looking at. It’s frustrating to me. I hope to see them soon.
The Special Mother
Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressure and a couple by habit. This year thousands of mothers will give birth to a premature baby. Did you ever wonder how mothers of preemies are chosen?
Somehow, I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting His instrument for propagation with great care and deliberation. As He observes, He instructs His angels to make notes in a great ledger.
“Armstrong, Beth, son, patron saint, Matthew”
“Forrest, Marjorie, daughter, patron saint, Cecilia”
“Rutledge, Carrie, twins, patron saint, give her Gerard, he’s used to profanity”
Finally, He passes a name to an angel and smiles, “Give her a premature baby”. The angel is curious, “Why this one, God? She is so happy.” “Exactly,” smiles God, “could I give a premature baby to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel.” “But, does she have patience?” asks the angel. “I don’t want her to have too much patience, or she will drown in the sea of self pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she’ll handle it.”
“I watched her today, she has that sense of self and independence that are so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I’m going to give her has his own world. She has to make it live in her world and that’s not going to be easy.”
“But Lord, I don’t think she even believes in you.” God smiles, “No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect, she has just enough selfishness.” The angels gasps, “Selfishness; is that a virtue?” God nods, “If she can’t separate herself from the child occasionally, she’ll never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child who comes in a less than perfect way. She doesn’t realize it yet, but she is to be envied.”
“She will never take for granted a spoken word. She will never consider a step ordinary. When her child says, “Mommy” for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it. When she describes a tree or sunset to her blind child, she will see it as few people ever see my creations.”
“I will permit her to see clearly the things I see; ignorance, cruelty, prejudice, and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life, because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side.” “And about her patron saint,” asks the angel, pen poised in mid air. God smiles, “a mirror will suffice.”