tennyson's birth story: Chapter 3
As I lay in bed, cuddling and nursing my new baby, the midwives checked his heartbeat, rate of breathing, etc. I tried calling my mom numerous times, as she shuts her phone off at night, and Steven was cleaning up the room and getting things back in order. I finally got my mom on the phone, probably just before 6am.
"Can you hear that?" I asked. Tennyson was angrily crying at being weighed and measured.
My mom gasped. "What did you do?! I just talked to you!" And she had, just 7 hours earlier. She had seen that I had tried to call around five, so when I finally did talk to her she thought I was going to tell her I was in labour. We laughed and talked for a few minutes, and then she assured me she'd try and leave work early to come see the baby. After I hung up he phone, my midwife Natalie regretfully informed me that we needed to go to the hospital. They had been monitoring Tennyson for a few hours now, and had noticed that his rate of breathing was well above the normal range, and it didn't appear to be slowing. This isn't what I wanted to hear. My fingers had been crossed that once he rested for a while after being born he'd stop doing this. Unfortunately, it wasn't the case.
Natalie called for an ambulance to come and transfer us to the hospital. Although she insisted that it was a non-emergent transfer, our quiet little street was awakened that morning at around 7am by the sounds of the sirens of an ambulance and a firetruck. We could hear them in the distance, and we all looked at each other thinking, "I bet that's our firetruck." Minutes later, the firemen and paramedics were at our door, intercepted by Natalie who told them again that it wasn't an emergency and that we'd be down in a minute. I think one of the paramedics may have come up to check on us anyway.
I diapered my baby and squashed him into a newborn sleeper that didn't really fit and made my way to the ambulance. His first ride in a vehicle!
At the hospital we were immediately ushered into a room with an x-ray machine where they stripped our new baby out of his sleeper and laid him on a table to take x-rays. The whole time I was thinking "this shouldn't be happening, we should be at home cuddled up in our big fluffy bed watching our new baby sleep in our arms." So as Steven was still out filling out paperwork, Tennyson and I were together but apart in a big bright sterile room, both crying. It turned out to be such a long morning. In the past few hours, I had labored and delivered, watched my hubby clean the room, driven to the hospital via ambulance and now I was sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the corner of the room while a small group of medical professionals x-rayed, hooked up wires to, and tired to figure out what was wrong with my son.
His exam revealed no heart or lung defects. I'm not sure if they knew that right away or a little later. From this room he was transferred down to NICU for further monitoring. they started him on antibiotics in case there was an infection. I stayed upstairs, hanging out in a wheel chair while my midwife went to admit me. she promised that as soon as she was done we'd go down to be with my baby. I waited, and waited, and waited. I started to get upset, knowing full well that I could just walk down there myself if I knew where it was.
*****
The chaos was over. The midwife had gone, I was admitted, Tennyson was resting comfortably in NICU, oblivious of the monitors he was attached to. When I saw some of the other babies in there, all sick and tiny and pale, and wearing more wires than mine, I was thankful. Thankful that he was okay. He was big and chubby and pink and snoring away in his incubator. Steven's dad and my mom each came that evening to see their first grandson. Despite not being able to hold him I think they still showed just the right of grandparently love and "awww's" at seeing the newest member of their families. He was awfully cute after all.
Steven went home later to be with Jordan, and my mom and I sat with Tennyson, watching him sleep, laughing at his chubby thighs, figuring out who he looked like, being thankful that he looked so healthy, and hoping that nothing was seriously wrong with him.
They never did find out why he breathed so hard and heavy. It's never slowed him down any!
Two days later we took our little bundle home.
Two years later he's larger than life, as goofy as can be, smart, cuddly, a temperamental two-year-old who continues to steal our hearts!
Happy (belated) Birthday Tennyson!
"Can you hear that?" I asked. Tennyson was angrily crying at being weighed and measured.
My mom gasped. "What did you do?! I just talked to you!" And she had, just 7 hours earlier. She had seen that I had tried to call around five, so when I finally did talk to her she thought I was going to tell her I was in labour. We laughed and talked for a few minutes, and then she assured me she'd try and leave work early to come see the baby. After I hung up he phone, my midwife Natalie regretfully informed me that we needed to go to the hospital. They had been monitoring Tennyson for a few hours now, and had noticed that his rate of breathing was well above the normal range, and it didn't appear to be slowing. This isn't what I wanted to hear. My fingers had been crossed that once he rested for a while after being born he'd stop doing this. Unfortunately, it wasn't the case.
Natalie called for an ambulance to come and transfer us to the hospital. Although she insisted that it was a non-emergent transfer, our quiet little street was awakened that morning at around 7am by the sounds of the sirens of an ambulance and a firetruck. We could hear them in the distance, and we all looked at each other thinking, "I bet that's our firetruck." Minutes later, the firemen and paramedics were at our door, intercepted by Natalie who told them again that it wasn't an emergency and that we'd be down in a minute. I think one of the paramedics may have come up to check on us anyway.
I diapered my baby and squashed him into a newborn sleeper that didn't really fit and made my way to the ambulance. His first ride in a vehicle!
At the hospital we were immediately ushered into a room with an x-ray machine where they stripped our new baby out of his sleeper and laid him on a table to take x-rays. The whole time I was thinking "this shouldn't be happening, we should be at home cuddled up in our big fluffy bed watching our new baby sleep in our arms." So as Steven was still out filling out paperwork, Tennyson and I were together but apart in a big bright sterile room, both crying. It turned out to be such a long morning. In the past few hours, I had labored and delivered, watched my hubby clean the room, driven to the hospital via ambulance and now I was sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the corner of the room while a small group of medical professionals x-rayed, hooked up wires to, and tired to figure out what was wrong with my son.
His exam revealed no heart or lung defects. I'm not sure if they knew that right away or a little later. From this room he was transferred down to NICU for further monitoring. they started him on antibiotics in case there was an infection. I stayed upstairs, hanging out in a wheel chair while my midwife went to admit me. she promised that as soon as she was done we'd go down to be with my baby. I waited, and waited, and waited. I started to get upset, knowing full well that I could just walk down there myself if I knew where it was.
*****
The chaos was over. The midwife had gone, I was admitted, Tennyson was resting comfortably in NICU, oblivious of the monitors he was attached to. When I saw some of the other babies in there, all sick and tiny and pale, and wearing more wires than mine, I was thankful. Thankful that he was okay. He was big and chubby and pink and snoring away in his incubator. Steven's dad and my mom each came that evening to see their first grandson. Despite not being able to hold him I think they still showed just the right of grandparently love and "awww's" at seeing the newest member of their families. He was awfully cute after all.
Steven went home later to be with Jordan, and my mom and I sat with Tennyson, watching him sleep, laughing at his chubby thighs, figuring out who he looked like, being thankful that he looked so healthy, and hoping that nothing was seriously wrong with him.
They never did find out why he breathed so hard and heavy. It's never slowed him down any!
Two days later we took our little bundle home.
Two years later he's larger than life, as goofy as can be, smart, cuddly, a temperamental two-year-old who continues to steal our hearts!
Happy (belated) Birthday Tennyson!
Comments
(I've been eagerly anticipating Chapter 3 you know... This morning I actually said out loud, to my empty apartment, "Oh! There it is!")
Actually, I got so used to it that when I had Mitchell it kind of made me paranoid because his room was so quiet! Again, I'd pester him a little from time to time to make sure he was still wiggly!