Birth Day

A normal, healthy baby. That's what most women will say when asked the question while pregnant, "Do you want a boy or girl?" Normal & healthy. That's what I wanted.

Back in the 80's, ultrasounds were given sparingly to pregnant women, unless the doctor thought it was a medical necessity due to some possible problem. There were no complications or issues with my first pregnancy and birth of my daughter, so there was no reason for me to have one. I was seen through a clinic, as we had no health insurance at the time I got pregnant. And most times, no one knew the sex of the child until the birth. Surprise! I was pleasantly surprised upon the birth of my son, as now I would have a daughter & a son!

Derek was born in Hollywood at 8 lbs 10 oz, two weeks past his due date . It seems he knew something the rest of us didn't....he wasn't quite ready to come out yet! A  midwife helped with his birth, which was a wonderful experience, as she stayed with me throughout the entire labor process. I had a natural birth, with no pain medications and no complications.  Derek was placed in my arms right after birth and encouraged to breastfeed immediately, but he seemed to have no interest. Then shortly afterwards he was whisked away to be examined and cleaned up. Little did I know that would be the only time I would hold him without some sort of IV line or monitor on his little body for a very long time.

Things were different back then, babies went to the nursery and were brought to the mom's room for periods of time, I guess so the moms could rest. So after the delivery, I was put into a semi-private room and could expect my baby to come back to me in the morning.

Upon waking in the morning, I could hear babies crying as they were being wheeled down the hallways in their little beds. My roommate's baby was brought in, and I patiently waited for my son. And waited. Finally, I called for a nurse and asked her when Derek would be brought in. She said to me, "Oh, your son isn't coming. Didn't anyone tell you? He's in Pedi ICU and can't be brought in to you." I thought I must still be asleep & having a very bad dream. Derek's dad, Joe, hadn't yet come back to the hospital after going home during the night; so there I was, sitting in my bed, with no baby to cuddle and with a gazillion questions running rampant through my mind. When he got to the hospital, he actually found out before me that Derek was in Pedi ICU and had been able to go see him. Then he came to my room, where the doctor finally came in and the only explanation we got was a lot of medical jargon, which to me sounded like a foreign language and the only thing I could pick out was "he needs surgery as soon as possible and will be transported to Jackson Memorial Hospital in Miami".

Apparently upon examination after his birth, the nurse was not able to insert a thermometer into his anus, as there was no opening there. It was sealed shut. The midwife did mention this to me during the night, but she made it sound like no big deal; she said that sometimes an incision just has to be made there to open it up. So I never gave it another thought. But until that happened, Derek had no way to excrete his waste and he would become toxic in a very short period of time. Hence the frantic rush to get him to a hospital who could manage his condition.

Shock. Pure, total shock set in. Surgery? On my newborn son? I hadn't even gotten to see him again since he was born! They wouldn't even let me out of my bed to go to the PICU! Everything was rushed and frantic after that point, and Joe did finally get someone to agree to wheel Derek into my room before he was put on the ambulance headed to Miami. I was not prepared for what I was about to see.

In the room comes the ambulance attendants, pushing the incubator Derek was inside of. There was my baby, naked, with tubes and monitors and IV lines on his body and he was crying. I wasn't allowed to even touch him, never mind comfort him, before they had to whisk him away. Joe was going to follow the ambulance to Jackson and be there while he had surgery. Out the door they all went, and I was left in a stupor, sitting alone in my bed. And all around me on the floor were crying babies and happy moms.

They never attempted to move me from the Obstetrics floor. The nurse came in shortly after Derek had left, drew the curtain around my bed, and gave me some pills to take. That's right, drug me up. Drug me so I don't realize I don't have a baby in my arms. I'm sorry, but there was nothing in this world that would take away the pain I was experiencing. I thought my heart was being torn right out of my body. Before the pills sent me into a sleep oblivion, all I could do was sob. Gut wrenching sobs. I spent the rest of that day alone in my bed, with the curtains drawn around me like I was an outcast. My mom couldn't come to the hospital, as she was caring for Brooke, our daughter. My dad came later on that day and sat by my bed and stayed until Joe could get back. And every four hours, more drugs would come and a drug induced sleep would follow.

Derek made it through his first surgery. He had to have a colostomy, as his intestines did not fully develop. Colostomy?  I didn't know what that was. But I was about to learn quickly. It's when a piece of the intestines is brought out through an incision in the abdomen, and covered with a bag which is held on to the abdomen with a special putty-like sticky substance. And all the waste goes into the bag, which is then changed with a new bag when that one gets full. My baby has a colostomy bag???? I couldn't even process this information! And, we were also informed that there were usually kidney issues associated with under-developed intestines as well. So further testing would be done. 

I was discharged from the hospital the following day, and the feeling of leaving the hospital with no baby in my arms is something that I will never forget. But I wasn't waiting any longer to see my son. We were headed to Jackson Memorial Hospital for an introduction to a baby I was absolutely petrified to meet.  I didn't know what to expect when I got there. I had questions; but these questions didn't even begin to scratch the surface of what was going to be thrown at us next. And I certainly didn't know it would be three weeks before I could even think about bringing my baby home.