Journal writings about my youngest son's journey with spina bifida |
The nurse told me to wait. "Don't push," she instructed and left the room to call the doctor. I moaned and twisted on the hospital bed and tried to follow her instructions. Within minutes, the doctors, the nurses, and the neonatal team from the NICU were all in the room. I don't remember the doctor telling me to push. When I try to recall those moments, all I can see are the incubator and the neonatal nurses standing beside it, waiting. It felt like their team took up the whole room, although they only numbered four, and they were off to the corner. I pushed four times and felt his little body escape from mine. They put him on my chest and I began to rub him with the blankets. A nurse reached in and gently grabbed my hand. "Be careful of his back," she said. I would have thought that would have devastated me. That it would have ruined the moment. But it didn't. It registered and I carefully rubbed his arms, his legs, his head. I felt his soft skin and looked at his squished-up eyes. He squirmed and stretched. And moved his legs. Moved his legs. Oh, God. God, thank you! Tears were running down my face and I could see that he was perfect. A perfect baby. My perfect baby. And, for a moment, it felt like it was just he and I in the room. But, they had to take him. They came in and murmured comfortingly to me. They oooh-ed and ahhhh-ed over how cute he was. They assured me they would take good care of him. And then they took him. They brought him over the incubator and laid him on his stomach. I couldn't see what they were looking at, but they studied his back, carefully, pointing something out to my husband. Then, they wrapped him up. Closed the incubator. And took him away. I was alone. The doctors had finished taking care of me. The nurse checked my vitals and smiled, sympathetically. "He's getting the best care," she said. "I'll let you know the minute I hear something." She patted my hand and waited for me to let her know I would be okay. I felt like they had ripped out my heart. Somehow, I managed to look at her and nod, slowly. She understood that that was as much as I could give her. So, she left to keep working. And I layed in the bed and sobbed. Alone. |