March 8, 2016

Beckham's Grand Entrance

Let me start by saying excuse the grainy, poor quality iPhone photos on this post. This was pre camera-pre blogging days. Despite the bad quality and less than stellar lighting, I love these photos of our first days as a family of 3. Enjoy!
 
The first time I got to hold Beckham 11 hours after birth. I was sleeping most of the day unaware of most everything. I had to be able to get up out of bed and get in a wheelchair before I could roll down to NICU to visit. That was a sweet moment for us.
   
Cutest daddy in the whole world with his little gift.
  
That little string bean body just gets me. OMG. so sweet.  Sometimes I can't believe he was that little!
 
 
Going home day! And let me say to all the women who haven't had a baby...You still look pregnant after you have a baby. FOR A WHILE. At least I did. That uterus has been through hell...give it some time. So here I am not pregnant-yet still looking like it. We were so excited to go home after 5 days in the hospital!
 
 
Both sets of our parents were literal heroes during this whole thing. We had NOTHING ready. No bags packed, no car seat, no anything. They went out and bought us everything we could have ever needed (and the nicest most expensive versions) and made sure we had more than we needed. From baby gear to food, blankets, clothes, toiletries, EVERYTHING. We could not have made it without them. They took so much stress off of us in this already stressful situation and made it the most pleasant experience. They really made us feel loved. We were, and still are so appreciative of them. 
 
Blake diligently washing all the pump equipment....every two hours might I add. Since my milk didn't let down for four days I had to basically massacre my nips for days until it did. I tried to nurse and then pumped every two hours around the clock. God Bless.


I had plans. I had big plans. I had Yes’s and No’s all ready to go, I knew what I wanted my first time giving birth to be like (kinda). I knew that the one thing I didn’t want AT ALL was a c-section. Did I mention AT ALL…Ok, just so we are clear. Well….motherhood certainly has a way of humbling you and all your big plans right from the get go. 
It was a normal checkup that day at my Dr’s office as I was entering week 36 of my pregnancy. Blake and I did what we always did on checkup mornings and grabbed donuts and headed to the Dr. I was feeling pretty good overall at this point in pregnancy, and everything had been doing exactly what it was supposed to do. I was growing right on track, and we had had no complications up until this point. The weekend before that Monday’s check-up I was horribly sick, throwing up everything and in turn admitted to the hospital for dehydration because my body started having contractions from lack of fluids.
At the Dr. that morning everything was going well, and I anticipated heading off to work immediately after that appt. Little did I know what was in store. My Dr. began to check Beckham’s heart rate, as she always did at appointments when something clearly began to trouble her. Her concerns were evident and clearly depicted by the sudden change of expression on her face followed by a “hmmm.” Blake and I looked at each other clearly understanding that something was the matter. She explained that she wasn’t loving baby's heart rate reading she was getting, being it was dangerously low. She calmly stated that she would walk us over to labor and delivery and hook me up to a different monitor to see if she could get a different reading. Blake, startled by this, told her to shoot it straight: what was happening, and were we going to possibly have a baby today?  She said, “within the next 30 minutes.” WHAAAAATTTTTTT.
No no no no, I am not ready. The nursery isn’t ready. I don’t have a bag packed. My carseat is in the mail headed my way, but I don’t have it yet. I am not emotionally ready. I thought I was, but I am not. Ok, its ok maybe it won’t happen today. Maybe we still have a little bit of time. 
Thats what went through my head as I calmly and slowly walked to labor and delivery in the next building over. I still was not freaking out besides the “I don’t have anything ready like I planned." I felt like there couldn’t really be an emergency, and everything was going to checkout just fine, and I could head to work shortly after.
The gravity of the situation began to become a little more clear when I immediately was put into a hospital gown upon arrival to the labor and delivery wing. A nurse began to check the heart rate on said “other monitor” quite franticly. Did I say franticly. Ok, so we are clear. Well you know what they say, those hospital gurus... If your room becomes flooded with nurses and doctors, something is going down. AND oh nelly, IT WAS. Suddenly the room had about 10 nurses and my Dr. It was like a buzzing bee hive in the thick of spring. I then realized it was happening. IT WAS HAPPENING. I had people rolling me back and forth, people talking to me asking questions, a nurse drawing blood and starting IVs. It was in an instant overwhelming and, needless to say, breathtaking. The presence of my husband, the only calming force in the room. I looked at him and said, "I am just glad you get to go with me." This is when it really got hard. My Dr. must have overheard me and looked at me and said, “I am so sorry Emily, but Blake can’t come with you, we have to get your baby out NOW. We don’t have time we have to go. You are going to be put under anesthesia!” My heart sank. WHAT? My husband doesn’t get to come with me. But I had this whole thing planned out. It isn’t going at all how I envisioned. What am I supposed to do without him in there? I don’t understand. This is scary. I am scared. You know what everyone, I CHANGED MY MIND!!!!. I am not going to do this. Just put it back. I didn’t realize this was going to happen. Can my baby live inside me forever? Mmmmkay. Great. 
It was in those moments that I got to experience the really overwhelming calming presence of Jesus. I shut my eyes, rummaging through my heart trying to conjure up the biggest helping of courage I had. I felt like I needed to show Blake that I was brave, and I wasn’t scared to go into a cold room and have my body opened in order to save our baby's life. I felt like I needed to show him with my courage that it was all going to be fine. I didn’t honestly know, and I didn’t feel brave, but I put on my best face, gave my husband a smile, and said, “It’s ok babe, I’ll be fine."
They began to wheel me down the hall like a mama deer in the headlights, as one tear slowly ran down my cheek. I remember praying and asking God to give me courage and give me peace. I felt so overwhelmed and afraid. My Dr. leaned over and whispered in my ear that it was going to be ok, and our baby was going to be fine. I believed her, and even more so I believed that God had already orchastrated this day, and he was completely in control. Suddenly even though afraid, I had overwhelming peace. That one tear the only one able to escape my eyes as I arrived in the operating room. It was so cold, it was so bright, and I felt like I was back in a busy bee hive. The realization that all these people were there for me and my baby was humbling to say the least. Peace yet again. I just kept praying and asking God to please protect us both. 
I heard my Dr. say she was ready to make the incision. WAIT. I am NOT READY. I had yet to be given anesthesia in order to make sure Beckham was not subjected to it. The nurse leaned over my face and sweetly told me to take deep breaths into my oxygen mask. I began breathing deep and continued praying, still frightened, yet at peace. My face started to tingle as if little needles were being pressed into my cheek, then down my neck, and I was out.

The next thing I remember is being wheeled down the hall, and I saw my friend Kristin standing there smiling the biggest smile. I went into my room and was told everything went great, baby is great.  I honestly don’t remember very much that day until about 11pm that evening. Our families were there all day, sitting with us. I slept most of that day. Like I said I don’t remember much at all. I remember asking where Beckham was. Come to find out he had a little bit of low blood sugar and his heart rate was irregular. He was going to have to spend some time in the NICU. That day was a lot of visitors and a lot of nurses in and out of the room. All the nurses that came into the room congratulated me on our “miracle baby." What? "Miracle baby” what? 

My Dr. showed up and told me that if we would have not come in that day Beckham would most likely have died…Woah…GOD IS SO GOOD. It was so obvious to me that God truly had his hand in that day and in our lives. A rush of overwhelming gratefulness and disbelief washed over me. Truly, a miracle baby. I am so happy that God spared his life. What good gifts he gives and sustains even when we don’t realize what is happening. I honestly can’t imagine our lives without Beckham. He is the greatest blessing and brings us exponential amounts of joy daily. 

Having a baby has been everything I thought it would be and everything I didn’t expect. I am so grateful that God saved our son's life, and we pray we raise him to be a vessel for Jesus everyday of his life. 
These days my hair is frizzy and my entire mental state of adulthood is frazzled. It's called being a mother, and I wouldn’t change any of it for the world. 

2 comments:

  1. Whoa, that's horrible and so amazing all at the same time. So glad you shared your story - You got me all teary. As an avid snapchat follower (lol) it's cool to get to know more about you!
    xo Sarah

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    1. I am so glad you enjoyed getting a little more of a peek inside our lives. Thanks so much for following along our journey. :)

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