Five years ago
Monday, March 10th, 2003, I proceeded to stand up at the end of my sales meeting to go back upstairs to my office. Something in my huge belly creaked, popped, and groaned just enough to keep me from standing.
Most of those around me asked if they could help me stand because I was stuck in my chair. Me, being tough, brushed it off as nothing and thanked them for their offers. I got my fat self off my chair to waddle to the staircase.
Thankfully, one of the men I worked with, also a father, was wise enough not to let me take the stairs back up to our floor. He escorted me to the elevator, swiped his ID card, and walked me to my little cubicle.
I was to have a ride-along that day with a new rep, who was sick and coughing. I'd been riding with him three days prior and unfortunately was now thoroughly congested. I walked to his cubicle and told him I would meet him later as I thought I had a doctor's check-up at the hospital. He asked to drive me, because like everyone else downstairs he thought maybe I was in labor...as I was days away from my due date.
Again, I thanked him...but no, I was fine and I'd drive.
Thirty minutes later, on my doctor's table, my OB confirmed that I was in fact in labor and my water had broken. I was completely unaware of any signs of labor and had just driven myself to the hospital. What was I thinking?
(Later I found out that I felt no contractions until the last stage of labor, affectionately termed stage four. That's the part of labor that makes you feel like you're slammed against a wall if you don't experience the warm-up stages...which I felt none of.)
My OBGYN told me to hop off the table, take the elevator to the fourth floor, and check myself in. There was an elevator right outside his office. Okay, this was it. I was having a baby. I needed to call my husband, walk to the elevator, call my mom ... no...just get to the fourth floor... then, call my husband. Then, he can call my mom and start the chain of communication.
I took the elevator and stepped off on the fourth floor. Looking up, I was completely dumbfounded when the sign read, Cardiology. It was then that I realized that my doctor was oblivious to the fact that he needed to clarify that maternity is on the fourth floor - in a separate wing. All I could think was OH CRAP! Now what do I do?
I was getting a little winded, having a child, and lost! Shouldn't he have had someone take me?
Thankfully, one of the doctors, that worked in cardiology, was also on the elevator. When we exited and he recognized my predicament, he asked the obvious. "Are you having a baby?" he asked.
(Yah, ya think?)...Yes, (smiling desperately) puff puff ... I am.
He immediately called over a nurse with a wheelchair and said, "What is your doctor thinking just telling you to go to the fourth floor? He should wheeled you up himself!" I agreed. It took them ten minutes just to wheel me to the other wing to get checked in - all the while I'm apologizing for inconveniencing them.
My husband got there in record time and didn't even remember driving. I'm sure he was in pure panic mode the whole way. He probably felt as lost as I was felt after getting off at cardiology at the fourth floor. Come to think of it...maybe that's where he should have gone to get himself checked out.
The main thing I remember that day was how hard it was to breathe since I'd been congested. Breathing exercises were out, and they had to give me an oxygen mask. Right after getting a bed, my oxygen level got so low that it caused my son's oxygen supply to cut off.
I remember the moment I began to pass out. My eyesight narrowed as if I were in a dark tunnel and I felt my son's body flipping inside me as if in distress. The monitors started beeping with that alarm that sounded louder than anything I'd heard. Every sound was amplified.
The wailing beeping noise was not a good sign. I remember hearing the attending nurse yelling, get a crash cart! as I looked over to my husband for help. He was so unaware as he stared down at the clipboard in his lap. I think he was trying to figure out how to spell his name for the paperwork.
As my pupils drilled down and the blackness overtook, I fought it. I was determined not to pass out. Breathe slooooow, Kim, I told myself. Fight this... My son's body movement slowed down, my eyesight came back, and the alarms finally stopped. We made it through without any other major issues.
From that point on, they had to keep shifting my body to make sure my little baby's heart rate was normal since it kept fluctuating. Apparently, when he was flipping around in my tummy when I was threatening to pass out, the umbilical cord got wrapped around his neck. We barely avoided a C-section.
My angel was born Tuesday, March 11th at a little after 7 a.m.
He was the smallest sweetest gift I'd ever received. I had a mirror positioned at the foot of the bed so I could watch his entry into the world. He had a full head of black hair that never fell out. He was born a little old man, in a baby's body.
I still remember rubbing his softback as he lay on my chest. He had black little hairs all over it that swirled in a pattern. It was the silkiest feeling, and he smelled so heavenly. From day one, he made funny faces at me and loved to love.
Now at the new age of five, his birthday again on a Tuesday, he still makes that same face I saw on his first day of life. He still loves to be affectionate. He still has a full head of hair, that is thick and beautiful. He's still a little man in a boy's body.
Five years ago I never imagined what a gift each day would be with my son. Being a mom is the most rewarding amazing gift God ever gave me.
Most of those around me asked if they could help me stand because I was stuck in my chair. Me, being tough, brushed it off as nothing and thanked them for their offers. I got my fat self off my chair to waddle to the staircase.
Thankfully, one of the men I worked with, also a father, was wise enough not to let me take the stairs back up to our floor. He escorted me to the elevator, swiped his ID card, and walked me to my little cubicle.
I was to have a ride-along that day with a new rep, who was sick and coughing. I'd been riding with him three days prior and unfortunately was now thoroughly congested. I walked to his cubicle and told him I would meet him later as I thought I had a doctor's check-up at the hospital. He asked to drive me, because like everyone else downstairs he thought maybe I was in labor...as I was days away from my due date.
Again, I thanked him...but no, I was fine and I'd drive.
Thirty minutes later, on my doctor's table, my OB confirmed that I was in fact in labor and my water had broken. I was completely unaware of any signs of labor and had just driven myself to the hospital. What was I thinking?
(Later I found out that I felt no contractions until the last stage of labor, affectionately termed stage four. That's the part of labor that makes you feel like you're slammed against a wall if you don't experience the warm-up stages...which I felt none of.)
My OBGYN told me to hop off the table, take the elevator to the fourth floor, and check myself in. There was an elevator right outside his office. Okay, this was it. I was having a baby. I needed to call my husband, walk to the elevator, call my mom ... no...just get to the fourth floor... then, call my husband. Then, he can call my mom and start the chain of communication.
I took the elevator and stepped off on the fourth floor. Looking up, I was completely dumbfounded when the sign read, Cardiology. It was then that I realized that my doctor was oblivious to the fact that he needed to clarify that maternity is on the fourth floor - in a separate wing. All I could think was OH CRAP! Now what do I do?
I was getting a little winded, having a child, and lost! Shouldn't he have had someone take me?
Thankfully, one of the doctors, that worked in cardiology, was also on the elevator. When we exited and he recognized my predicament, he asked the obvious. "Are you having a baby?" he asked.
(Yah, ya think?)...Yes, (smiling desperately) puff puff ... I am.
He immediately called over a nurse with a wheelchair and said, "What is your doctor thinking just telling you to go to the fourth floor? He should wheeled you up himself!" I agreed. It took them ten minutes just to wheel me to the other wing to get checked in - all the while I'm apologizing for inconveniencing them.
My husband got there in record time and didn't even remember driving. I'm sure he was in pure panic mode the whole way. He probably felt as lost as I was felt after getting off at cardiology at the fourth floor. Come to think of it...maybe that's where he should have gone to get himself checked out.
The main thing I remember that day was how hard it was to breathe since I'd been congested. Breathing exercises were out, and they had to give me an oxygen mask. Right after getting a bed, my oxygen level got so low that it caused my son's oxygen supply to cut off.
I remember the moment I began to pass out. My eyesight narrowed as if I were in a dark tunnel and I felt my son's body flipping inside me as if in distress. The monitors started beeping with that alarm that sounded louder than anything I'd heard. Every sound was amplified.
The wailing beeping noise was not a good sign. I remember hearing the attending nurse yelling, get a crash cart! as I looked over to my husband for help. He was so unaware as he stared down at the clipboard in his lap. I think he was trying to figure out how to spell his name for the paperwork.
As my pupils drilled down and the blackness overtook, I fought it. I was determined not to pass out. Breathe slooooow, Kim, I told myself. Fight this... My son's body movement slowed down, my eyesight came back, and the alarms finally stopped. We made it through without any other major issues.
From that point on, they had to keep shifting my body to make sure my little baby's heart rate was normal since it kept fluctuating. Apparently, when he was flipping around in my tummy when I was threatening to pass out, the umbilical cord got wrapped around his neck. We barely avoided a C-section.
My angel was born Tuesday, March 11th at a little after 7 a.m.
He was the smallest sweetest gift I'd ever received. I had a mirror positioned at the foot of the bed so I could watch his entry into the world. He had a full head of black hair that never fell out. He was born a little old man, in a baby's body.
I still remember rubbing his softback as he lay on my chest. He had black little hairs all over it that swirled in a pattern. It was the silkiest feeling, and he smelled so heavenly. From day one, he made funny faces at me and loved to love.
Now at the new age of five, his birthday again on a Tuesday, he still makes that same face I saw on his first day of life. He still loves to be affectionate. He still has a full head of hair, that is thick and beautiful. He's still a little man in a boy's body.
Five years ago I never imagined what a gift each day would be with my son. Being a mom is the most rewarding amazing gift God ever gave me.
Comments
My daughter was due on March 10th, but was born December 29th. That girl is always in a hurry!
I was a very organized, type A personality before child.
As we hopped in the car, on the way to the hospital I said to my husband that I didn't plan on going into labor during rush hour morning traffic and picking a hospital 40 minutes away.
Well, I got to the hospital in plenty of time to boss everyone around and delivery my perfect baby at 12:41 p.m. Imagine my surprise expecting a girl and deliverying a boy!