Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Five Turns Around the Sun (now with pictures!)
Five years ago today, Papa and I woke at 5:30 am. We were scheduled to be at the Washington County Hospital in Washington, PA to induce labor. My blood pressure had been running really high for quite some time, so it was evident that you needed a little help in coming out. We arrived at the hospital just before 7 am and by 7:30 I was hooked up to pitocin. Nurses flitted in and out, which we thought was normal. Around 9:30, though, they shared with us that this was not normal. Your heart rate was very concerning and we needed to stop the labor and go in for a "very quick" c-section. We were scared. The nurses told us it was fine, probably just a reaction to the pitocin. I hyperventilated a bit, but had a nurse that grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me in the eye, and breathed with me while the anesthetist found the needed spot for the spinal. At 10:30 am on April 27, you were born. Amazing, beautiful, a gift from God.
Papa got to hold you for a bit before they wisked you away to clean you up. For reasons we are still not sure of, I did not get to hold you again until 6pm that night. Papa went out to the nurses and demanded you be brought back to us. Good ol' Papa:) You nursed well and everyone cuddled with you and cooed at you. Around 9pm, you were still sleepy, but I attempted to wake you to have you nurse again. You would latch on, but then promptly fall asleep. A nurse happened by and started "helping" me. Soon, she called in for assistance. Two nurses sat by my side, telling me to move this way, hold you a different way, watch that I didn't smother you, poke you to keep you awake . . . and on and on for three hours. At midnight, me in tears, we decided to supplement with a bottle. The nurses took you to the nursery for shift change and to try a bottle. Exhausted, Papa and I fell asleep.
At 1 am, I was awakened by a doctor. He came in to inform us that your heart rate was extremely high and you were not responding to the normal methods to get the rate to come down. They needed to life-flight you to Children's Hospital of Pittsburgh. We stayed as close to you as they would let us (me in a bed, Papa standing) for the next 15 minutes until the helicopter arrived. The nurses snapped a polariod of you before you were taken "just in case."
Papa left with Judga to go be with you at the hospital and Nana came up to be with me. We learned around 5:30 on April 28 that you were going to live, indeed thrive, with the right combination of medications and/or a simple surgery. There were still many questions, but much relief at hearing this. I wouldn't make it up to see you until April 30 as I was recovering from the c-section. Papa and you bonded over those three days as he held you (when he was allowed), talked to you, and read to you.
Five years later, you still keep us on our toes. You are a light in our lives. You love playing superheros (you are Spiderman or, your own invention, Super Kid and you designate Fish to be The Hulk), running, drawing, and playing Redwall. You would rather be outside playing than inside most of the time (unless drawing is involved!). You have an endless supply of questions. You hate to be interrupted. You love your brother and sister (and say so very often). You love Pre-K, Sunday School, YoungLives, and Thursday morning Bible study. Many people asked you as your birthday approached what you wanted. You always had the same answer, "Well, whatever I get!" My sweet, sweet boy. I cannot remember what life was like before you came to be. I love you, my five year old. You are my most favorite Treefrog.
Pictures (in order): 18 months, 2 years, 4 years, 2 years with baby brother Fish, just after "The Fall" 4 years old, today with his birthday pancake