Part 4 of the Jedi Series~ Breath

Continued from Part 3
When I was in labor with my third baby, I remember being in denial. I had a c section scheduled on a Friday (he was in a stubborn transverse position a.k.a sideways) and since I it was Sunday night I just thought I could use my mind powers to stop it.
I knew with him that labor meant c section and I wasn't ready for all that. I had a list of to do's to complete during the week, and I hadn't even washed his clothes or made his bed or even packed a hospital bag. I spent most of the night pacing the house and telling my then husband that I was not in labor but to also leave me alone. I needed to concentrate.
Early labor for me, is not really painful as it is annoying.
I remember going out to the drive way at 5 in the morning and walking in a circle. Willing the labor away with my mind powers didn't work. I arrived at the hospital 3 hours later at a 6cm, and had him by c section within the hour of arrival.

When I realized I was in labor at 25 weeks, memories of trying to will the labor away before having my first son came back to me. "This time I am going to think of a shut door that is sealed with bolts that has one thousand locks on it" I closed my eyes shut and imagined the door, and soon began huffing and puffing my way through a vision of cement being poured into a well. Stitches being sewn. A face being punched.
It wasn't working.

My mom, who came to stay with me since I was having a sob fit over being told that I was staying in the hospital until October, rang for my nurse.

The nurse checked the monitor and said she didn't see any contractions and asked if I would like her to call my doctor. After they conversed he prescribed a low measure of precaution, pills every 2 hours, to see if that would halt whatever it was that I was feeling. Since there were no contractions to be seen on the monitor, it could just be a fluke.

I continued to labor, and also tried to convince the nurse that with or without the monitor things were definitely happening. I could feel it, that growing anxiety that labor can bring, the surge in adrenaline that makes me want to squirm, walk around, sway, and eventually want to run a 10K race stabbing anyone who stands in my way of the finish line which would be pushing. It was slowly happening. And it was starting to become painful.
The doctor ordered a round of magnesium sulfate, and the nurse administered it into my 5 day old iv hep lock. Soon, my arm felt as if it were on fire. I have had previous expierience with mag sulfate, and I had dubbed it "Satan Serum" because of the inevitable burning feeling that takes over your whole arm, and then subsides but never completely, after 30 minutes.
My arm was still on fire 2 hours later. I screamed when my boyfriend grazed my finger with his hand. It wasn't until then that the nurse saw my arm was swollen. An infiltrated vein. The Satan Serum had been leaking into the surrounding tissue, and not going where it should. Which meant I was still laboring, nothing had been stopped, and my arm was throbbing with pain.

After they had a shift change, my new nurse got to work trying to find a vein for a new IV. She noticed immediately that I was indeed, in labor. She felt my belly grow hard, and watched the monitor as it barely picked up the contraction. She told me that the monitor is meant for someone who is much farther along. But that she didn't give a shit because I was definitely in labor. She brought in another nurse to find a vein to work with and panic started to set in, when no suitable vein could be found. Finally, after an hour or so of getting an IV in, the nurse explained that she had called my doctor and she wanted to prep me for a c section just in case. I refused. I didn't want to go through all of that prep, just to have it all stop once the meds kicked in.
I will never forget the stern look on her face.
But also the worry in her voice, when she told me that my baby was so small, that I didn't need to be at 10cm to have him.
5 or 6 cm would do it.
I knew and she knew without even checking me...I was about 5 or 6 cm.
She began prepping me.

I was at a loss for words. My mind raced. But I couldn't think straight. My son continued to kick me. I fought back tears when I realized very soon, he wouldn't be.
I signed paper work.
I hugged my mom as she fought back tears. I told her I never wanted this for my baby. She said she never wanted this for me either.
They told me my c section would be in an hour.
My boyfriend, the sweet but strong, father of my child, had a face of stone. He stared at me blankly, as my mom flatly told him, that if he went with me to the O.R. that he had to be prepared for what the possibilities were. And if he couldn't handle that, then she would go with me, and it would not make him any less of a man.

I will never forget how dark and cold the room seemed to turn as she spoke these words.


He stared at the floor, and said yes, he would go with me. They ushered him out of the room to be prepped. And my mother held my hand as they wheeled me on my bed, down the hallway.

The nurses, who we had grown familiar with during all of my stays at the hospital were at their station, watching me, holding their charts to their chests. One reached out to my mom and gave her a hug.

We continued down the hall and I was led to the O.R.
I was absolutely exhausted. In fact, I had never been so exhausted in my life. I could barely keep my eyes open. My weakness was apparent, when I needed help just to sit up.
Another nurse stood in front of me holding me up by my shoulders as the anesthesiologist searched for the spot in my back  to administer a numbing shot, followed by the spinal. I leaned into her, as we waited for the doctor, who was about 20 minutes away.
The nurse holding me up had to get the surgical tools ready, she left me there and I could do nothing more than observe my surroundings.
I couldn't even fathom what devastation, if any, lied ahead.
There was no rush, obviously, because the anesthesiologist was farming her crops on her Facebook and 2 other nurses behind me chatted away about daycare.
Another person was switching the radio station to Lionel Ritchie.

I wasn't really feeling any more contractions, so I thought maybe, just maybe, my will power had kicked in.
I lifted up my gown and saw I was sitting in a pool of blood.
My son continued to kick inside of me and I hugged my belly.

The minute the phone rang, and word was given that my doctor was in the hospital. They turned on the spinal.
I had ask the anesthesiologist previously if she could just knock me out. I felt guilty, but what did I need to be awake for? I don't have any wish to hear or know what is about to happen. They can just update me later and if its a morbid outcome, I will scream until they knocked me the fuck out, again. Sounded like a super plan to me.
She instead promised that as soon as the baby came out, she would give me something.

My legs quickly grew numb and someone guided me onto my back.
A huge sheet was being unfolded and they placed a doppler on my belly and searched for his heart. It sounded like a race horse. I heard a kick.

He doesn't even know, I thought.
I turned my head to my left and saw my boyfriend walking in.
I reached my hand out, and he held it. I squeezed hard as I began to feel pressure.
They are cutting me.
Please be alive.
I can't tell your sisters and brother that you aren't coming home.
I can't deal with phantom pains in my arms, longing to hold you for months, maybe years to come.
I just want to see you. But please, don't die. If you die, I die. And they need me.
I pleaded, and I begged, I prayed to the universe and asked God to please make whatever He had foreseen to please happen, but if it is my son dying right now, then to please change his fucking mind.

And then I felt a warm light.
Everything seemed clearer. Less foggy.
A surge of adrenaline.
I knew he was born.

I released my death grip on my boyfriends hand when I heard something.
Very small. I thought I was hallucinating a kitten meowing. But why the hell would I hallucinate that?
My boyfriend turned his head towards the sound. And that's when I realized what it was.
It was our baby. He was crying.

Ezra James was born July 2nd 2011
He weighed 2 lbs 3 oz

When I was in recovery, my doctor met with me. He told me Ezra was breathing on his own, but needed some extra assistance. He was a lot bigger than they expected, and was doing well considering how early he was.
He also told me, the placenta was bleeding so bad, that they had to cartarize as they worked on getting him out. I would have died within an hour, since there was so much more blood on the inside of me, then there ever was coming out.

24 hours later I met Ezra James.

In late September, we brought home our new baby.
To many waiting arms.

Our Jedi,
Ezra James





Live long and prosper
xoxox