The Birth of my son. It’s very early in the morning but I’m going to keep this short. On valentine’s day, I went into labor. My baby had only had the pleasure of growing for a little over 28 weeks, I still had a cerclage stitch in place to keep him in so delivering him was not the plan. It was too early for him to come and I was in danger of serious harm. Regardless, by the afternoon of February 14th 2020, I was in active labor. The next morning, the stitch was removed. The plan was to try and stall labor for a just a while longer to give Rowan some time to develop his lungs. Two days of steroid shots would help mature his lungs quickly and magnesium would help keep his brain stable. We took all of the precautions we that we could.
Sunday morning my water broke but for some reason the test that they ran to determine that came back negative for amniotic fluid. In the meantime, my contractions had returned and with every one, Rowan’s heart rate dropped. My nurse pushed for the doctors to give me an ultrasound and the results confirmed that there hadn’t been any fluids around the baby for hours. Very quickly they noticed that my heart rate was increasing and so was Rowan’s. I had developed an infection because I had went too long without having amniotic fluid. I started running a temperature suddenly and at this point, both Rowan and I were in danger of dying. I was rushed in for an emergency c-section and on Sunday, February 16th 2020 at 11:01 PM, Rowan was born a very little 2lbs 10oz.
I am scared. Having a baby that little and one hooked up to so many tubes and machines is terrifying and heartbreaking. My body is in agony from surgery, an infection, anemia, preeclampsia, pumping milk under such circumstances and just the fact that I can’t tend to my baby but today I am grateful.
I have a living, breathing child right now. I’m his mama. His first looks were at his papa. His lungs were weak but in his first breaths he cried to let us know that he had arrived. He fights the nurses at the NICU when they have to take his blood. He tries to take his breathing mask off all of the time. His papa can calm him down when he’s fussy. He has a head full of hair and an army of people that already love him dearly. I’m more grateful than my heart can take.
We have a long way to go. Please keep my baby in your prayers. Please help me keep the strength make it through this trying time.