A Letter To My Son On Mother’s Day

1

Hi sweet baby boy,

I have so many thoughts and feelings about you and this special day that I’m not sure where to even start. First off, you should know that Mother’s Day 2015 will always be one of the most special days of my life and here is why….

When you were just about four weeks along in my tummy, we had a big scare.

One night as I was getting ready for bed I began to feel shooting pain in my body and knew something wasn’t right. I called the Doctor and the nurse on the phone told me I needed to come into the ER right away. This was not what I wanted to hear or where I wanted to go. The timing of all of this sucked since this was occurring on August 20th, the day before my 28th birthday. No place like the Emergency Room to start your birthday off right. Your dad and I had plans to fly up the next day to spend the weekend with our family in northern California.

None of this was going to plan.

We spent about six hours in the emergency room, and all six of them were scary. They ran multiple tests and did a long ultrasound.

They couldn’t see you in there.

No baby, No heartbeat, nothing.

A doctor came in and informed us that she believed this was an “Ectopic” pregnancy and that it could potentially be a life-threatening situation to me. We were told the pregnancy would not be sustainable and that the “best” thing we could do was for me to take some pill that would end the pregnancy.

No. That was not okay with me or your Dad and we decided to leave the hospital and go with the “wait and see” route. The next few weeks were awful. I cried a lot and felt so much anxiety about your precious little life. I went to have my blood drawn every other day to see if the pregnancy hormone levels were increasing at a normal rate…and they were!

I tried so hard not to get my hopes up, especially when a doctor called me and told me she felt hopeful. We went back to the doctor a week later for an ultrasound. He was rude and cold and harsh. As he was doing the ultrasound he said, “Well, the good news is that there is a baby in your uterus- not your fallopian tubes! The bad news is that I can’t see a heartbeat.”

Once again we left feeling defeated and sad. I have never prayed so hard in my entire life. I made so many promises to God that I would do or be something IF He made it so you were alive and okay. I’m not sure if God likes those kinds of deals because they’re usually one-sided, but he had mercy on us anyway.  One night, your Dad and I were lying in bed, and he said, “I think our baby is okay. I think he is in there and that this will be okay”.

Finally, about two or three weeks after the ER trip, we had another doctor’s visit. And there it was. Your precious beating heart. Our eyes both welled with tears as we listened with overflowing joy. There you are, sweet baby. There you are. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. (Note: They still aren’t sure what the initial pain was on August 20th, but are guessing an ovarian cyst burst).

20140911_104024

The first trimester was, well, not great. I felt nauseous most of the time, but more than that, I was scared. I was scared we would lose you and that I didn’t deserve to have a healthy baby and that God was doing this all to teach me a life lesson, etc. etc. (Can you tell your Mama struggles with anxiety?)  But we did it! We made it out of the first trimester and announced your upcoming arrival through Facebook (in case you didn’t know, it’s not an official pregnancy until you announce is through social media ;))

The next few months were thankfully pretty uneventful. I continued to be an emotional mess, but I’m blaming you for that—I gained 37 pounds you little twerp!

During your third trimester, we moved to a new home so you could have your own room. We had three separate baby showers and were incredibly blessed with an abundance of baby gear.  Your Grandma and I set up your nursery as your Dad painted furniture for you and hung things on the wall. I stopped working at 37 weeks so I could have some time to relax before your arrival. Mostly though because I had to pee every two minutes which made it difficult to get any work done.

And then, the waiting game. We waited and waited. I prayed that you would come at 38 weeks. I wanted to be done being pregnant and to just get on with this whole thing. So, I started doing what I could to help you along, but nothing worked. At our 40 week check-up, the midwife said she would do a membrane sweep (sorry babe -you might want to do earmuffs for the next few paragraphs), but my cervix was so high, she couldn’t do it.

I started to get tears in my eyes because I just wanted you out. She told me that you were easier to take care of inside the womb then out, so to just try and relax because you WOULD come out. I was so annoyed at her for saying this, but of course, she was right.

So your due date passed and we kept waiting. I watched so much Netflix during this time it was actually kind of impressive. We got multiple texts every day to see if you had popped out and forgot to let people know about it.  Nope. Still in there. Oh, and I’m huge. I can barely sleep at night and I can’t even find a comfortable position to watch TV.

GET OUT OF MY BELLY!!!!

20150508_104641

Your due date was May 1st, 2015. As you passed your due date, I started to try and make MORE deals with God. I asked God that you would come on May 5th because a Cinco de Mayo baby would be awesome and 5-5-15 would be a cool birthdate. Then you passed that and Mother’s Day was approaching on May 10th. I prayed that you would be here by Mother’s Day since it was my first one as a Mother and I desperately wanted to be able to hold you on this special day.

It was Friday, May 8th, 2015 and I went in for my 41-week checkup. The Midwife and I made a deal that as long as you were doing okay, she would let me go until 42 weeks. So, I went to this appointment around 11am. They took me back and listened to your heartbeat for about half an hour. The nurse came back and looked concerned. She sighed, “Hmmm, I don’t know if they are going to let you go home, Sweetie. Let me show this to the doctor.”

No, this is NOT my plan. My plan is to start labor at home and have my Doula come over and help me through the beginning stages of labor.

Then all three of us (Me, Husband, and Doula) will drive to the hospital together. I will have a hard time getting out of the car because my contractions will be so intense and they will wheel me up to Labor and Delivery. I’ll labor and labor without an epidural (because I’m that hardcore and everyone will know it) and all our family will be waiting impatiently in the next room only to come running in when you are born.  My bouncy ball is packed, my heating pads and essential oils were ready to go. My cooler is ready with Gatorade,  coconut water and some snacks that we will sneak past the nurse.

I even had printed out pictures of the dog to help me relax and smile during labor. Ha. That was the plan and this was not. Your dad wasn’t even with me! I wasn’t showered and I didn’t have my overnight bag or pillow or cute pajamas. I wanted to make “the drive” with your Dad to the hospital as I had imagined so many times the past 9 months. This is not the way, God!

But, it was the way, unfortunately. They told me I could not go home. I called your Dad and told him the news. He packed up our stuff as fast as possible and rushed to the hospital as if you were already halfway out. He’s the best. But you weren’t even close. They admitted me and told me they would like to begin inducing me. Your heart rate was not stable, my fluid levels were low and my placenta was apparently looking old (rude!).

The midwife came in and I asked her if it really was “that serious” and if I could go home to try and start labor naturally. She looked at me with loving eyes because she knew my “plan” and wanted me to have the birth of my dreams, but she went on to say, “I do not feel comfortable with you leaving. You CAN leave if you choose, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.” So, there I was. Zero centimeters dilated and supposed to get this baby out of me before my placenta expired.

The next 72 hours are a blur.

An exhausting induction hellish blur. They did things to my body that I don’t even want to remember. Seriously, you are lucky baby that you are a boy. Being a girl is painful. We tried every means of induction under the sun. Literally. You did NOT want to come out. In my naïve mind, I thought that induction meant I would go into labor and have you by the next morning. So wrong. Finally, it was Sunday night. I had been trying to get you out since Friday afternoon and the whole L&D staff knew about me. Oh, yes, you are the girl that has been here a couple days. So sorry, honey.

At this point on Sunday, I was dilated to 6cm and having strong contractions. I decided to get an epidural because these things were no joke and I’d been trying for 2 days to get you out so the birth plan was already out the freaking window anyway. A few hours later, your heart rate dropped suddenly. The nurse was thankfully in the room at the time and sent off some alarm so that five other nurses came running into the room. They flipped me onto my side and tried to be encouraging as I was obviously freaking out. When your little heart started to regulate, they put me back and had “the talk”’ with me.

I was told that they would give me two more hours to try and get you out “naturally”, but it may become an emergency at that point which would mean a C-section, OR we could opt for the C-section now since the doctor was available and may not be in a couple hours.

I began to sob.

I told your Dad I was a failure and that my body was broken. I truly believed it too. I swore to the nurses that I would NEVER get pregnant or do this again. The midwife came over and held my hand. She told me that the most important thing was that we get you out safely and that it was okay. I began to shake and continued to sob. This was SO not my plan, BUT all I cared about at that point was that you were okay.

We decided to have a C-section then. I think the nursing staff was all a little relieved when we made that decision (and because I’m sure they were taking bets on when you would finally make your appearance). We signed papers and packed up our stuff. I was wheeled down to the operating room and began shaking uncontrollably. I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t. The Anesthesiologist was so kind. They prepared my belly and when it was time, your Dad came in to hold my hand.

They cut and pulled around, and finally, as they were pulling you out I heard the sweetest sound in the whole world.

Your cry.

Your sweet, sweet cry. This was shortly followed by everyone in the room saying, “Whoa! He is HUGE! He was NOT going to come out the other way!”. Apparently, a baby sumo just came out of me. The waterworks resumed. Your Dad went to you immediately and as you wrapped your tiny hand around his finger, you began to calm down. I looked up at the clock with the bright red numbers and it read 11:59pm. You did it. You came on Mother’s Day. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

20150511_000659

We are approaching Mother’s Day 2016 and your first birthday. I can barely type this without tears pouring out of my eyes. This last year of my life has been the most difficult, exhausting, and incredibly joyful and special time of my whole life. You light up my life with your sweet hilarious smile and I melt inside every time you say, “Mama”. You are my baby boy and the absolute love of my life. I thank God for you every single day. Happy Birthday, precious boy, and Happy Mother’s Day to me.

Love always,

Mama

12885750_10100517061127720_1985892844445769464_o

 

1 COMMENT

  1. Mer- so honored to call you a friend and be inspired by your mommyhood journey. Thank you for sharing yourself and your heart with me (us all)!

Comments are closed.