The one word I can think of to describe how I feel right now is:
surreal. The whole situation is surreal.
This morning I woke up, decided I didn't want to go to work, because work sucks. Then got out of bed, showered and went to work. On Time. At about 10 o'clock I got a call from Catherine:
“I'm leaking.”
This morning I woke up, decided I didn't want to go to work, because work sucks. Then got out of bed, showered and went to work. On Time. At about 10 o'clock I got a call from Catherine:
“I'm leaking.”
“You're leaking? Sounds like a
personal problem!”
“No, seriously, we need to go to the
hospital.”
No more goofing. We went. We decided
to hit up American Fork hospital because it was closest and we didn't
want to drive all the way to Provo. We were both relatively certain
that it was just regular discharge, or some side effect of
Catherine's condition.
After two tests showed negative for amniotic fluid, putting our fears to rest, we opted for one other test, just to be sure. That test came back positive for amniotic fluid. A physical test and doctor's exam later, it was decided that Catherine and Marek needed immediate attention. We were told a c-section was an extreme likelihood. Marek has been chillin in breach for months, with no indication that he was planning on flipping over. And now it was too late.
Catherine was given an IV, and fluids were being run into her arm, both for her benefit and Marek's. We had to transfer to another hospital because the American Fork hospital didn't have a NICU, and Marek wasn't due until September 16th.
After some runaround and a lot of waiting, we were sent to Timpanogos Hospital in Orem. Almost as soon as Catherine was moved from the ambulance stretcher to the bed, she started having contractions. They grew steadily worse, but the staff was unconcerned, so I tried not to pester them. They told us that a birth today was possible, but it was most likely that Catherine would stay in the hospital for the next four weeks to give Marek more time to develop, then they would reevaluate and discuss options for delivery. The events which followed were not what we expected. At all. We were caught completely off guard. All throughout our stay both here and at AF, we maintained the possibility that this most likely wouldn't happen today, it was too early!
During one particularly long and painful contraction, Catherine's eyes got big and she yelled “The baby! He's coming!” Catherine's mom knew something was definitely not right, and ran out to find a nurse, yelling “Navarre, check her!!” That broke me out of my daze and I checked. There was blood. I told Marie, but I don't know if she made it out of the room. I looked again, and there were feet. My heart skipped a beat, and a nurse arrived. She took a look, seemingly not expecting to find much of anything. As soon as she saw the feet, however, she was vaulting over the bed to hit the blue button.
Immediately, swarms of nurses were filling the room in a flurry of organized chaotic activity. I think they were hiding in the closets, I didn't realize there were this many nurses in the entire hospital! I jumped out of the way and did my best to choke back tears. I felt so useless against her pain. They were taking her away and instructing me to stay, they would come get me. That was hardest.
The doctor hadn't arrived yet. The nurses had no instructions, nobody knew what was happening or what the plan was. I filled out the paperwork that Catherine hadn't had time to complete, and they brought me scrubs. After some difficulty (and a LOT of help from Marie) we got them on. But they were too small. Too late! I was being rushed to the OR, that baby was coming, and the doctor had arrived JUST in time! They threw another paper scrub over my front, and an extra hairnet for my beard, then rushed me in. There were a lot of instructions, I did my best to follow them.
I was led to Catherine's side, and took her hand. It was possible that they'd have to put her under. The baby was breach, and a c-section was still likely. If that happened, I would be lead from the room. Another flurry of activity, and there were his legs!! One great yell and two and a half pushes later, Marek Ignacio came into the world.
Now on this, let me be clear: There was no epidural. There were no pain medications. The numbing shot Catherine was given never had a chance to activate. The birth was over and done in a matter of seconds. I have a She-Ra, Herculean wife. Seriously, don't mess.
I watched Marek and the doctors at the testing table where he was poked, prodded, measured and weighed. 4 pounds 7 ounces, a good weight. 17 inches, better than expected. And oh, the crying! The grunting and gurgling and crying out! Marek was about as healthy as a preterm baby could be! His crying and complaining ceased only after being laid in his mother's arms. Her gentle words and soft caress lulled the babe into a sense of peace and security. All too soon, he was taken, and his cries returned.
I followed his incubator to the NICU and spent some time with him and the staff that would care for him. Once satisfied, I left him in their more than capable hands to tell Catherine's mother the news, that her first grandchild was born!
Marek has underdeveloped lungs, and is being closely monitored. His breathing is currently augmented by a CPAP machine, but should be fully functional in no time. His legs, arms and hands were bruised, the legs worst of all because they came out first and were stuck in the open air for some time before the rest of his body followed.
He and Catherine are being extremely well cared for. I am brought to tears by the absolute kindness, generosity and caring of the staffs at both the American Fork hospital, and the Timpanogos Hospital. They are compassionate and patient, quick to answer all of my questions and requests. We couldn't have asked for a better experience. Catherine is sleeping peacefully now. We are sad to be so far away from our son, but we are comforted by the knowledge that he is being watched over in more ways than one.
After all the commotion died down, I had the opportunity to give my firstborn son a father's blessing. The spiritual manifestations of that moment will never leave me, and it's beauty will haunt my soul for all time.
I have a son. His name is Marek.
After two tests showed negative for amniotic fluid, putting our fears to rest, we opted for one other test, just to be sure. That test came back positive for amniotic fluid. A physical test and doctor's exam later, it was decided that Catherine and Marek needed immediate attention. We were told a c-section was an extreme likelihood. Marek has been chillin in breach for months, with no indication that he was planning on flipping over. And now it was too late.
Catherine was given an IV, and fluids were being run into her arm, both for her benefit and Marek's. We had to transfer to another hospital because the American Fork hospital didn't have a NICU, and Marek wasn't due until September 16th.
After some runaround and a lot of waiting, we were sent to Timpanogos Hospital in Orem. Almost as soon as Catherine was moved from the ambulance stretcher to the bed, she started having contractions. They grew steadily worse, but the staff was unconcerned, so I tried not to pester them. They told us that a birth today was possible, but it was most likely that Catherine would stay in the hospital for the next four weeks to give Marek more time to develop, then they would reevaluate and discuss options for delivery. The events which followed were not what we expected. At all. We were caught completely off guard. All throughout our stay both here and at AF, we maintained the possibility that this most likely wouldn't happen today, it was too early!
During one particularly long and painful contraction, Catherine's eyes got big and she yelled “The baby! He's coming!” Catherine's mom knew something was definitely not right, and ran out to find a nurse, yelling “Navarre, check her!!” That broke me out of my daze and I checked. There was blood. I told Marie, but I don't know if she made it out of the room. I looked again, and there were feet. My heart skipped a beat, and a nurse arrived. She took a look, seemingly not expecting to find much of anything. As soon as she saw the feet, however, she was vaulting over the bed to hit the blue button.
Immediately, swarms of nurses were filling the room in a flurry of organized chaotic activity. I think they were hiding in the closets, I didn't realize there were this many nurses in the entire hospital! I jumped out of the way and did my best to choke back tears. I felt so useless against her pain. They were taking her away and instructing me to stay, they would come get me. That was hardest.
The doctor hadn't arrived yet. The nurses had no instructions, nobody knew what was happening or what the plan was. I filled out the paperwork that Catherine hadn't had time to complete, and they brought me scrubs. After some difficulty (and a LOT of help from Marie) we got them on. But they were too small. Too late! I was being rushed to the OR, that baby was coming, and the doctor had arrived JUST in time! They threw another paper scrub over my front, and an extra hairnet for my beard, then rushed me in. There were a lot of instructions, I did my best to follow them.
I was led to Catherine's side, and took her hand. It was possible that they'd have to put her under. The baby was breach, and a c-section was still likely. If that happened, I would be lead from the room. Another flurry of activity, and there were his legs!! One great yell and two and a half pushes later, Marek Ignacio came into the world.
Now on this, let me be clear: There was no epidural. There were no pain medications. The numbing shot Catherine was given never had a chance to activate. The birth was over and done in a matter of seconds. I have a She-Ra, Herculean wife. Seriously, don't mess.
I watched Marek and the doctors at the testing table where he was poked, prodded, measured and weighed. 4 pounds 7 ounces, a good weight. 17 inches, better than expected. And oh, the crying! The grunting and gurgling and crying out! Marek was about as healthy as a preterm baby could be! His crying and complaining ceased only after being laid in his mother's arms. Her gentle words and soft caress lulled the babe into a sense of peace and security. All too soon, he was taken, and his cries returned.
I followed his incubator to the NICU and spent some time with him and the staff that would care for him. Once satisfied, I left him in their more than capable hands to tell Catherine's mother the news, that her first grandchild was born!
Marek has underdeveloped lungs, and is being closely monitored. His breathing is currently augmented by a CPAP machine, but should be fully functional in no time. His legs, arms and hands were bruised, the legs worst of all because they came out first and were stuck in the open air for some time before the rest of his body followed.
He and Catherine are being extremely well cared for. I am brought to tears by the absolute kindness, generosity and caring of the staffs at both the American Fork hospital, and the Timpanogos Hospital. They are compassionate and patient, quick to answer all of my questions and requests. We couldn't have asked for a better experience. Catherine is sleeping peacefully now. We are sad to be so far away from our son, but we are comforted by the knowledge that he is being watched over in more ways than one.
After all the commotion died down, I had the opportunity to give my firstborn son a father's blessing. The spiritual manifestations of that moment will never leave me, and it's beauty will haunt my soul for all time.
I have a son. His name is Marek.
Congratulations! He's beautiful. I bet he'll do well. He looks older than 7 weeks early (at least from here). I hope your hospital has you do skin-to-skin (also called kangaroo care), which is where mom and baby spend a few hours each day with baby skin-to-skin on Mom's chest, or even Dad's. It has wonderful benefits after birth for any baby, but especially pre-term babies. It's the next best thing to being in utero because the hormonal benefits and the comfort of laying on Mom really helps speed up lung development and other healing and growing. You're in our prayers!
ReplyDeleteHe is big for his age already! We are hoping they'll let us hold him today, once he is off the CPAP machine. They are confident he will be! We are excited!
DeleteWow, what a story!!!! I can't believe she did that - she is incredible. He's beautiful - and so is she!!! Congratulations all around.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations to you all. He looks so strong in the photos. Thanks for explaining things to us in the blog. We have also felt very well cared for at Timpanogos hospital when we have needed their care. We are so grateful that t Catherine and Marek are well.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations to you all. He looks so strong in the photos. Thanks for explaining things to us in the blog. We have also felt very well cared for at Timpanogos hospital when we have needed their care. We are so grateful that t Catherine and Marek are well.
ReplyDeleteYAY!!! Congratulations!
ReplyDeleteNice, Nacho is here!
ReplyDeleteSo excited for the two of you! What a beautiful blessing to have a little one in your life!!
ReplyDeleteJessica Smith -