I've decided to start a small blog. After Cam arrived six weeks early out of the clear blue sky, I figured that this would be a fun way to keep our long distance friends and family updated on our little bear's progress and document little bits of our crazy new life to look back on.
For those of you who still aren't quite sure why he came early...Here's the scoop for anyone that cares to read a long-winded birth story: Cameron was due on May 7th. Thus, in late March we figured that we still had six weeks to finish arranging his room, wash pint sized clothes and enjoy sleeping through the night with just Jackson to bug us in the wee hours. We were wrong.
Up until the third week of March, I had an incredibly easy pregnancy. No morning sickness, no crazy big belly, no major complaints besides a little heartburn and an achy back. However, without warning I began to have an odd pain that wrapped around my chest, accompanied by an intense stabbing between my shoulder blades and swelling all over my body. For two days, I thought that perhaps this was just part of being pregnant. Pregnant ladies swell up, right? No big deal.
On Friday night, Luke came home to find me in a pair of my sweats, his sweatshirt and hunched over the sink looking like a child bearing hobo. I began to think that perhaps something wasn't quite right. Luke, however, was sure something wasn't right. He urged me to call my cousin, who has two great little men and is my local authority on mommy questions. Much to my dismay, when I did call her, she told me to check my blood pressure...Pronto. She had the same symptoms...Just before they induced her first pregnancy. Still, I thought it was probably just coincidence. I was NOT having a baby yet. Thank you for asking.
Within an hour we checked my blood pressure and SaveMart, CVS and finally bought our own blood pressure monitor. All of which clearly stated that my blood pressure was in the neighborhood of 200/120. Bummer. I finally called the doctor on call from my midwife's practice and went to labor and delivery to "get checked out" upon his recommendation.
Within ten minutes of walking through the door of the hospital that we had intended to finally get around to touring the following week, I was wearing a God awful gown and having vials of blood drawn to see just what was going on. Then the nurse dropped a major bomb: if the tests came back "wacky," as she said, the only cure for what appeared to be pre-eclampsia was to have a baby. I was sure they wouldn't be wacky, because I was NOT having a baby yet. Sure as poop, they were "wacky." By 11 o'clock, we were frantically calling our parents and I was wheeled into a room with two large spot lights aimed at my lady parts. Change in plans: I WAS having a baby. Sometime soon. Just 3 hours ago I was trying to figure out what kind of ice cream I wanted on my hot fudge sundae.
Multiple needle sticks, unpleasant pokes and prods and 18 hours later the real bummer of back labor began. I don't recall much besides an intense burning, aching, awful pain piercing my back, and being stuck in that darn bed. Due to my high blood pressure, a wacky medication they were pumping in me, and a catheter I was confined to my bed. You know how all those pregnancy books say to "try sitting on a birthing ball," or "walk the halls," "take a shower." Someone should have prepared me for the lack of options involved when you're confined to your bed. I opted for ice and my Mama rubbing my back until her hands ached.
After another 6 hours of that crap and labor not progressing, I decided that perhaps a C-section didn't sound so bad anymore when my doctor encouraged the option 24 hours after we had arrived. My blood pressure wasn't getting any better and the baby and I would be better off with him out in the world. Without consulting my husband, or my mom, I said "yes" to the c-section on the phone with my doctor and hung up realizing maybe I should have solicited some advice. It turns out my first decision using my new found mother's intuition was a good one.
We new ahead of time that due to Cam's gestational age - 34 weeks exactly - that he would be taken to the Intensive Care Nursery immediately after he was born and stay there for at least a week. Knowing ahead of time allowed us to be (kind of) emotionally prepared for the rigors of having a baby, seeing him for 30 seconds, and watching him be whisked away to a place that was never in our birth plans. "Babies in intensive care." Nope. Didn't see that one in any of the books I read either.
Within 30 minutes of the decision to have a C-section, Luke was sitting near my head as we waited to hear our baby cry for the first time. After minutes of chit chat, the man who nearly pukes at the mere mention of blood, looked over the curtain placed at my chest as soon as we heard the first cry from our Cameron. We were amazed to hear how loud those tiny lungs were and after taking pictures of Cam being cleaned up and weighed, Luke came back to my head to update me on how cute the little guy was. Minutes later, a nurse delivered a tiny bundle of blankets and a beanie to Luke's hands where I told our son hello for the first time and kissed him on the cheek before he was quickly taken to the ICN.
As I got stitched up, Luke followed Cam to the ICN to keep up on his progress. After I was put back together again, my mom and Luke took turns updating me on the features and health of our little bear. I was simply relieved that he was here and breathing. When the doc gave me clearance to leave recovery, my big hospital bed was wheeled through the halls and through the doors to a dimly lit, quiet room filled with incubators. With a little finesse, the nurses wheeled my bed directly next to Cam's incubator where Luke and my mom were waiting.
They say that your baby gets used to your voice while it's in the womb. I didn't know if "they" were full of poop until I said hello to Cam again and he turned his tiny head in my direction and struggled to focus. There was no doubt that he knew me. That was my boy, and I was proud to be his Mama.
Cameron Howard Lyda - March 26, 2011 - 4 lbs. 11 oz. - 17 inches long - 6 weeks premature
