Well, here we are again! I’m officially the worst blogger on the planet. I have been so busy lately that I haven’t even had a chance to look at this blog.  It’s been nearly a month since I wrote part 1 of this post and I honestly have no idea where all the time went. So on with the rest of the story.

This is the first picture I saw of my son and I just remember thinking of what the nurse said  “Expect him to be here until his due date”  Based on this picture, I felt like that could be a reality and it hurt  my heart. He looked so fragile and helpless.

As soon as things settled down we called our parents to let them know they were officially grandparents and  I was moved to my own room shortly thereafter. I feel somewhat selfish about this now but I didn’t want anyone coming to the hospital to see Miles until I got to hold him, so we told everyone not to come.  I was feeling pretty helpless myself.  I couldn’t feel my legs; I was under the influence of more drugs than Lindsey Lohan and all I wanted to do was to hold my baby.

It was an agonizing six hours before I was able to be moved to a wheelchair and pushed down the long hall to the NICU.  The excitement and anticipation was overwhelming; my heart was fluttering like a butterfly trapped in a jar. The room was tiny and dark, and I was pushed up to the uncovered incubator and there he was. So small, so precious…it felt like my heart might explode.  It was hard to believe he was mine.  It was more than I could even comprehend. He was mine. Mine in a way nothing had ever been mine before.

I was in love and I was changed forever.

The beeping of the monitors quickly drew me back to the reality of the situation. I wondered how long my boy needed to stay here, if he’d be okay.  I wish I could do something, anything, to help him. All I could do was hold him and love him, and that’s what I did. Late into the evening I was finally convinced to return to my room for some sleep, reluctantly I went. All I could do was think about him.

The next morning I discovered just how strong my baby was. To everyone’s surprise he was off the oxygen and the feeding tube. I remember one of the nurses saying that he’s the only one that doesn’t know he’s a preemie. I felt so profoundly proud and amazed at his swift progress. Over the next two days I remained admitted to the hospital to recover from the c-section, however I spent every minute I could in the NICU.  Once I was discharged a new set of emotions crept in.

I was free to go. Now it was just my baby that had to stay in the hospital. I felt distraught knowing that I now had to go home to shower and sleep. It didn’t feel so bad when I was in the opposite wing of the hospital. Going out the doors into the fresh air for the first time in three days felt more suffocating than being stuck in the hospital for a lifetime. And every fraction of Mile that we got away from the hospital my heart would sink more and more. I felt like I was abandoning him, even though knew we would return in a few hours.  It was horrible.

Yet, every day he got stronger, ate more and was closer to coming home. Having him come home on his due date was reduced to a month, to two weeks, to a week.  My heart swelled. I was so happy that he was doing so great, there might have even been skipping involved. Over the next week I spent as much time as I could with him. Quiet moments breastfeeding, sweet moments watching my husband hold him, fun moments visiting with family and friends and countless moments just staring at him.

Finally, on September 1^st, exactly one week after his birth, we were told that he could come home with us.  I cannot describe how this all made me feel, but just imagine getting the one thing in this world that you’ve wanted more than anything else. It was kind of like that.

Everything I’ve ever needed, I had.

I’ve started this post a hundred times in my head and can’t find the words to introduce the most monumental, life-changing, beautiful moment of my life. However, today is Miles’ official due date and I’ve decided that its finally time to put his birth into words, even if they do not give the feelings I had that day justice.  I have come to accept the fact that no combination of words, in any language, can come close to expressing what Miles’ birthday meant to me; nevertheless I will work with what I’ve got- this keyboard.  So, on to my happily ever after…

I woke up on Thursday morning, August 25^th around 7:45ish and had to run to the bathroom per usual as this crazy baby in my belly had been pounding on my bladder like a bongo drum.  I was 34 weeks pregnant and it felt like it. I peed and headed back to bed for another exciting day of bed rest. (For the scoop on that, see this post).  The covers were still warm and my puppy Goose was at the end of the bed snuggled up and Brian was still hitting the snooze (thankfully he hadn’t been motivated enough to get to work yet). I climbed in and pulled the covers up over my shoulders to get a few minutes of sweet snuggle time before Brian had to leave and Goose was up and barking at the squirrels in our yard.  I wasn’t even in the bed for a full minute and I felt a gush- instinctively I jumped right out of bed and went to the bathroom. For a second I thought my water broke, but when I got to the toilet it was blood. I had been having episodes of bleeding so I wasn’t too surprised; however this was not my average spotting. It would not stop. I was stuck on the toilet and began to worry. It felt like I sat there for a good 10 minutes just bleeding. Finally, I called for Brian and we decided I needed to get to the hospital right away.  I asked him to grab me some old clothes I wouldn’t mind ruining,  and after about five or six  ”no not that one”s I was ready to go.

Luckily we already had our hospital bag packed, so we headed out the door.  I felt a bit nervous, but I was feeling him move around in my belly like normal and it seemed like it was all going to be okay. If anything I was slightly agitated because I’d guessed that they would stop the labor and keep me in the Women’s Prison…I mean the Women’s Pavilion until my due date. Mt doctor already wanted to readmit me based on my last non-stress test; apparently I was already having too many contractions.

We arrived at the hospital around 8:30 and Brian knew just where to go. He’d become pretty familiar with the hospital the last time we were there.  We walked up to the labor and delivery desk and I remember stating, very matter-of- factly, that I was 34 weeks pregnant and bleeding. They asked me how much I was bleeding and I didn’t know exactly how to respond. I suppose they wanted so sort of quantifiable/scientific response, but all I could come up with is “a lot.” (Way to go genius!) They had me go into a triage room and there I saw a familiar face, one of the nurses from our last stay…”How nice, funny seeing you here.”

From that point on everything happened really, really fast. Alarmingly fast.  The nurse seemed concerned about the amount of bleeding. She wanted to do a cervical check, but really couldn’t.  Soon more nurses came into the room. I remember being asked a bunch of questions and feeling reassured when they did and ultrasound and hooked me up to monitors to see that the baby was doing great.  I felt even more certain that they would give me a shot of Terbutaline or Magnesium sulfate to stop the labor.  However, more people started to come into the room. Confused, I looked over at Brian and he was putting on scrubs. Did I just miss something?

My doctor arrived within seconds and told me that the baby would be delivered today. I was beyond shocked, at least I think that’s what it was because I had an overwhelming sense of calmness at this news. I am pretty sure that if I wasn’t in shock I would have been mildly freaking out. The familiar nurse looked me in the eyes and said to me “Expect him to be here until his due date.” I felt even more comforted by her honestly despite the content of her warning. Soon someone was having me sign off on some paper work, which I have no clue what it was because I was too busy telling all the other nurses in the room that we were having a birthday today- like it was some party that I had meticulously planned and was inviting them too. Literally there were about eight people hovering around me in this little 7’x10’ room and more in the hall. I remember worrying that someone would walk by and see my who-ha because the door to the room was wide open- Its silly to me now considering that I was fully exposed to a small village of nurses and doctors; what difference would one passerby make?

Like I said this all happened so fast, I can’t recall every detail, but what I remember next is them rolling me down the hall to the operating room. They told me that Brian would be right outside and could come in once they prepped me.  No big deal, operation- smoperation. I have no idea where this lackadaisical attitude came from. The room was huge and bright, and filled with even more people in blue outfits. I can only remember three of their faces. My doctor is one, the anesthesiologist is another and the girl who held my shoulders as they administered the spinal block is the third.  I do recall carrying on some casual conversation with the nurses, of which I have no memory of the context, (I am glad I don’t remember because I am sure I embarrassed myself). I don’t really even remember any pain with the procedure, just that everyone was being so nice and polite.

They laid me down on to the operating table and I started to feel my legs tingle like they were falling asleep, I could still wiggle my toes so I worried it wasn’t fully working.  The anesthesiologist mentioned that I might start to feel a pressure in my chest and may become nauseous. He was right, both of these things happened and made me feel more than slightly uncomfortable. Brian came back into the room, gave me a kiss and I just remember us locking eyes, not saying a word, but knowing exactly what the other was thinking and feeling…but hey maybe it was just the drugs kicking in.

Next my doctor asked me if I could feel “this” and I was all “what?” I guess I was ready. I don’t know when they started cutting me open but I do remember the feeling of distant tugging and pulling and some more pressure on my chest.  I stared at my husband, the ceiling, the blue curtain in front of me and back at my husband.

I don’t recall any of the dialog in the room except for one nurse saying “You have abs of steel!” and behind me the anesthesiologist replying “thanks for noticing, I have been working out”. I laughed to myself and I felt more pressure in my chest. Brian later told me that the nurse was practically standing on my ribcage to help push the baby out.  Things got fuzzy, but I remember hearing three little grunts.

I didn’t know how to feel. Was he okay? Why wasn’t he screaming?  I looked over to my left and Brian wasn’t there. He had left to cut the umbilical cord. Next, a nurse popped around the curtain holding a bundle of blankets with a tiny set of eyes.

She left as fast as she got there and I wanted to complain to someone about that. He was rushed off to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit and Brian went with him. All the sudden it felt like the room cleared out faster than if I had called in a bomb scare.

I laid on that operating table for what seemed to be a lifetime. Yea, no, probably longer. There was more tugging and pulling. Tears rolled down the side of my face and into my ears. I had a million mixed emotions.  Worry- that my little man was going to be okay coming into this world 6 weeks early? Anger- that I didn’t get to touch him or kiss him before they took him.  Joy- that I was a new mother. Agitation- that the stitching up was taking so long. Love- that my husband was there for me and our baby. Excitement- to meet my son soon.  There are  a ton more, but I realize that this is already getting really long.

The next thing I remember is being pushed to the recovery area. I say area because it wasn’t a room, it was a long row of empty beds. All the curtains were pulled back, I was the only one in there.  I recollect thinking that this must be a slow day at the hospital and good thing since I was pretty sure every doctor and nurse in the whole place was in that little triage room about 40 minutes ago…who was taking care of the other patients? I guess there weren’t any?

Everyone within earshot got interrogated by me, I think I even accosted the cleaning lady.  How is my baby doing? Where is he? How much does he weigh?  When can I see him? When can I see him? When can I see him? You get the picture. Soon Brian joined me in the ghost town of a recovery room-area and he showed me pictures of my beautiful baby boy, or what looked to be my baby under all the cords, tubes and wires. Brian answered all of my questions, each one about three times, because I had to hear it again.

He’s doing okay… he is on oxygen…he’s in the NICU…he weighs 5 pounds 4 ounces… 18 inches long… he was born a 9:21am…he has a ton of hair… and I could see him “soon”.

Umm…   I just realized that I have reached a record setting word count on this post, and for the sake of your retinas and my early onset Carpal Tunnel Syndrome (and because this story is definitely good enough to justify multiple posts), I officially declare this story:

To be continued…

Miles Cummings Colvert

August 25th, 2011 –  9:21am

5 lbs 4oz – 18″ long

Perfect in every way

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I have a lot of catching up to do around here but this little man has kept me pretty busy the last month, so please bear with me while I settle into my new life and I promise there is a whole lot of cuteness on the way!

Wow, I guess it’s been a while since I posted last.  It has been strange lately. Sometimes it seems like everything is going by me at yellow-jersey speed while I struggle to catch up on my tricycle, and other times it seems like my days are being played out in super slow motion.

I am back at work for half days which is so much better than full time bed rest, however I have been having a heck of a time sleeping. Between having to go to the bathroom, heartburn, contractions and swift jabs to my ribs I am usually up every 3 to 4 hours.

Last night around 3am I started to think that maybe I’m turning into a vampire and that’s why I’m up all night, but I’m pretty sure vampires sleep all day, so I will presume that it’s the pregnancy.

In other news, our bathroom remodel is nearly finished up and I do plan on posting some before and after pictures soon, I just need to find the motivation.

I also had the best time throwing a baby shower for my good friend and her little girl. Again, pictures will be coming soon. And I just have to say, she is the most beautiful baby girl ever, which is my total unbiased opinion.  I am hoping to have some time to do a newborn photo shoot with her soon because she is that darn adorable.

Last Sunday was the baby shower for our little man and he was actually still in my belly. I highly doubted that would be the case on a couple of occasions. It was great and I will share some pictures soon (Gosh, I am sounding like a broken record)

I also need to post pictures of the nursery, my growing belly and our budget fireplace redo and probably some other cool stuff I forgot about that I’ll discover when I download the hundreds of pictures off my camera. I really feel like this will happen soon, even if its just a desperate attempt to finish what I started.

I have been woefully misinformed about “planning,” maybe life in general.

I used to believe that I could write lists, pencil stuff in on the calendar and use excel to organize any data I so desired and I believed that all of this would result in some order, some efficiency, and maybe some harmony in life.

Again, I was woefully misinformed. 

Clearly, there is no way to effectively plan for “life”. I know this now and if I had a time-machine I’d go back and shake my head in disappointment at my old self and tell her that even though it’s written out, on your ipad, your iphone and on a freshly printed bulleted list, it isn’t going to happen that way. I’d also go back in time and tell the 5^th grade me to enjoy rocking the side-ponytail while I still could, because its days were numbered.  I would never have believed me. But that’s beside the point.

I thought I had the next three months perfectly drawn out, down to day, and in some cases hour-by-hour. That was until my little man thought he try to make an early world debut.

Pretty much I saw all my wonderfully laid plans go up in flames when my doctor told me I’d need to be on bed rest for at least the next two weeks. Worst of all, that very day I had my good friends baby shower planned at my house, which I had been planning since April. I needed to readjust quickly. I made some calls, sent some emails and quickly realized that I have the most wonderfully understanding people in my life. I was all wait….your okay with this? You’ll just go with the flow and see what happens? You don’t mind that we’ll postpone your shower and inconvenience everybody, and you don’t mind that I can’t tell you right now when I’ll be back in the office? Wow, pretty much sums up my reaction to everyone else’s reaction. Everything will be fine; the world will still go on without my plans?! 

I guess what I am saying is that I sort of feel like I just said “you too” to the waiter who told me to enjoy my food… so not necessary. All my planning for not.  

But, I won’t lie; I am pretty awesome at planning. It’s in my blood, I can’t just stop, but I’ve realized what I do need is flexibility. If I plan too much, and things don’t go I thought they ought to, I stress out. But apparently, that stress isn’t required.

I probably will still write lists and plan out how I’d like things to go, but I know not to be too disappointed if they don’t turn out that way.  I promise I have never been though AA, but there motto seems very fitting in this situation…

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.

Maybe this has been a little bit of prep for motherhood. A little slap in the face to say- get ready for some real chaos, lady.   Maybe all this will make me as kick-ass of a mom as I am a planner, maybe.

I guess I’ve been hesitating writing this, maybe I am in some sort of denial… embarrassed maybe.

Last Sunday around 3am I went into preterm labor. It’s something I never thought I have to think about, could never happen to me, right? Wrong. I didn’t know it was preterm labor at the time. I woke up to some bleeding, the first of any bleeding during my pregnancy.

At my 20 week anatomy appointment I was told that I have a low-lying placenta, they said it was no big deal and that we’d just watch it, but it should move up out of the way on its own. On Thursday the 7th I had another doctor’s appointment and the placenta hadn’t moved, it wasn’t covering the cervix, but definitely more of a concern. I was told if there was any bleeding to go immediately to the emergency room. Sure enough, that’s what we did early Sunday morning.

I was fearful of the possibilities, however on the drive to the hospital I felt the little guy move and I knew he was alright.

I got checked into the hospital, and hooked up to machines in a dozen different ways and was surprised when the nurse told me I was having contractions every 3-4 minutes. I didn’t really feel them, I had some back pain, but I’ve seemed to have that for the last 6 weeks.  They immediately gave me a shot in the arm to stop/slowdown the contractions and two others in my but to speed along the baby’s lung development.  I had no idea that there was a possibility he could be coming this early. This wasn’t part of the deal, I still have until October 5th to get things ready! I felt so unprepared.

To abbreviate a long story, I spent the next five days in the hospital; being monitored, getting medication and hearing a ton of new information. I had another round of bleeding, with some definite and painful contractions while I was there, however my doctor said that if I had a good 3 days without bleeding and minimal contractions I could go home to be on bed rest. So that is where I have been this whole week- in bed.  I am not sure how long I will need to be on bed rest, I have a follow up appointment tomorrow so I will know more then.

I feel relieved that they were able to stabilize everything. Mentally, I hadn’t prepared myself and there is still so much to do before he gets here. The NICU doctor told us that for everyday he stays in my belly is equal to 3 days out of the intensive care unit.  So right now I am so thankful for every passing day.  I’ve been taking a medication called Procardia three times a day to keep the contractions away and I will probably be on this for the next six weeks.

This whole experience has brought me some new perspectives.  Patience, planning, trusting in others, asking for help; these are just a few of the things I have been thinking about lately, and I have had a lot of time to think. I specifically have a lot of thoughts on planning, which I will elobrate on tomorrow, because right now a feel like I need a nap- I really thought that this Procardia medication would be a lot more fun, since it sounds like Bacardi, but it isn’t. It just makes me sleepy.

Okay- Now that I am getting settled into this pregnancy thing I have taken a moment to look back and I’ve come to realize that pregnancy is a beautiful, crazy, amazing, odd, and spectacular time. I feel like a different version of myself, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. I thought now would be a good time to share some of the items that I have helped me feel better over the last 28 weeks.

1.  Vaseline Intensive Care Lotion- Unfragranced : So far no stretch marks! I’ve been using this product for years and simply love it. Now that I have a growing belly, I’ve been lathering it on. And although its unfragranced, I love its crisp clean smell!!
2. An Everyday Travel Pillow: Pretty sure I got mine at Target. For some reason I cannot due large body pillows, but this one is just the right size to put between my knees for that added bit of comfort without all the bulk. You know, I used to be able to sleep like it was my job, now I need a bit more help.
3. Motherhood Maternity Short Sleeved Side Ruched T Shirt: I have pretty much lived in these for the last couple of months. They are lightweight-perfect for summer- and so comfortable, yet you can dress it up with the right necklace. Quite versatile really!
4.  Bare Minerals Makeup: This stuff just makes me feel pretty, I am not sure why but it does. And when I feel like a pimpled porpoise, I brush on this stuff and it makes my face all better, or at least appear that way.
5.  Life Stride Shoes- These are incredibly comfortable. I can wear them with jeans, a skirt, a dress, pretty much anything. These are definitely my go-to pregnancy shoes.  If you are pregnant, do yourself a favor and invest in a good pair of comfortable good looking shoes, you’ll be so happy you did.
6. Luna Blueberry Bliss Bars- Not only are these bars all natural, organic and pack with vitamins, including the much need folic acid, they are really tasty. I have been eating more than usual and this is the perfect in-between meal snack.
7. Finally, my favorite: The Carmel Frappuccino from Starbuck’s. Decaf of course!  This is probably the only thing I have really craved during my whole pregnancy. It’s pretty magical. Not too sweet, and the perfect drink to cool you down during these oh so hot summer months.  We’ll I think I am going to wrap this up right here because I know have an urge to go to Starbucks. Hopefully this won’t skew my glucose screening test tomorrow morning!

    

I am officially in my third trimester. Honesty, I doubted that I could ever say that. Maybe somewhere deep down in my heart I believed it, but the feeling was hidden under piles of worry and sadness.  Each week it seems a layer of that worry gets lifted and it’s an astonishing feeling. My eyes swell up with tears of joy every time I think about how lucky I am to still have this little guy alive and kicking inside.  It really is a miracle to me.

Having this baby boy almost seems tangible now. Doesn’t it just blow your mind?  It does mine.