Thursday was rough. Although, looking back now it's all such a blur. I had called Shell, my sister, at about 7am and told her the news. She insisted she come and stay with us if we were alright with the idea. Alright? It was a welcome diversion for both Jon and I. She showed up an hour later with movies, books, magazines and Trivial Pursuit. It was great. Jon, Shell and I settled in for a long day.
Dr B arrived early, looked at my vitals that were tracked throughout the night and stated that I had been contracting all night, much to the night nurses dismay. We also found out I was 2 cm dialated. Again, things were becoming more and more real, really fast. Dr B stated that she didn't think we'd make it to evening. She hoped so, but it didn't look realistic.
The rest of the day I just focused on getting by.... every 1/2 hour I could hold on was like a little victory, for me, Jon and the bevy of nurses and doctors that were constantly checking on me. For someone who has never spent a day in the hospital, it was all very surreal and overwhelming. Shell and Jon did their best to keep me entertained as I tried to focus on the pain, which I was now supposed to be monitoring. Jon was enthralled by all of the machines that monitored not just me, but all of the women in labor and delivery at that specific time. He especially enjoyed tracking contractions and compared mine to others, not hesitating to let me know that I wsan't in as much pain as the women in room X. Shell and I quickly (but lovingly) dubbed him Dr Koelsch. In the midst of some pretty powerful contractions, I decided I needed a serious distraction. We amused (horrified?) the nurses by pulling out the trivial pursuit game. Although I couldn't actively play due to concentration issues, I made it a rule that if I knew the answer that I could just shout it out and it would count. It helped me keep my mind off of things and helped Jon win by getting 2 pie. :) To be fair to Shell, we didn't finish the game. My contractions were getting stronger and closer together and the game was starting to bother me, so I made them quit.
It was about this time that I had one particularly bad contraction and BAM! I swear I felt a foot come through! I gasped and the nurses went into serious mode. I was examined quickly and had an ultrasound. Ethan was still breech and I was 3 1/2 cm dialated. Dr B was called and all of a sudden my room was filled with people, prepping me and talking me through next steps. They were moving forward with a C-Section based on the information the doctors had explained to me earlier...that although they would prefer to wait as long as they could for the steroids and magnesium to set in, if I were to dilate anymore or a foot really did come through, it would quickly become an emergency situation. They would rather go early and lose the extra time, but be able to control the situation. That was it, my time was up. I don't think I really thought this moment would come so soon. Jon, Shell and I were all crying. Shell, who adamantly had said she didn't want to be in the room for the birth, all of a sudden changed her mind and asked if she could. With the C-section, she couldn't and I could see the anxiety on her face. It must have been hard on her to be left behind. I, on the other hand, totally checked out. They stripped me and prepped me with the spinal tap thing... I couldn't feel anything and I didn't want to. I did everything in my power to leave my body and not go through the next steps. Jon, on the other hand, kept up his end of the bargain by being my rock and remaining calm throughout. He was there holding my hand and kissing my forehead. He even stood up and was able to look as Ethan was pulled out of my stomach. I'm pretty damn sure he saw much more than he bargained for, but he managed to keep his face composed as he knew I was watching him. Thank god for Jon.
Ethan was born at 4:18pm. He weighed a whole 1lb 15 oz and was 13.8 in length. We still hadn't decided on a name at this point and he wouldn't get his name until Friday morning. The final deciding factor came down to two things: Staci had called or texted Jon at some point on Thursday, I can't remember exactly when to be honest, and had told Jon that she had researched a couple of names that were on our initial name list...Evan meant 'little fighter' and Ethan meant ' strong one'. I like both and seemed so appropriate. That night, I had a dream that his name was Ethan Jon. So, Friday at 5am, I woke up a very tired Jon with this news and asked him if it was ok with the name in my dream. Jon was touched that I wanted to use his name as Ethan's middle name. It, to me, was a given. Little Ethan needed his daddy's name for strength and support to get him through all he will face in the coming months. And that was that. Ethan Jon Koeslch had arrived and our lives are now forever changed.
Back to Thursday...Once they got Ethan breathing, they rushed him to NICU. Shell and Jon were able to visit Ethan on Thursday about 3 hours after he was born. I was pretty unstable from the drugs and no food for 24hours and well, everything that had happened. But I insisted on seeing him. Shell made it a point to tell my nurse that she shouldn't fight it, that I wouldn't take no for an answer. So, at 11pm on Thursday, I was wheeled up to NICU to see my son. He was so tiny, but perfect. I knew as soon as he grasped my finger that he would be ok, it was so strong and felt stable, if that makes sense. He is our little fighter. I'm a mom and aready, I cannot imagine life before Ethan. Is that possible?
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| Ethan 01-22-09 |
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