Waking up the morning of January 4, 2010, Luke's birthday, was not difficult- I was already awake and had been practically all night long. But actually getting up was very hard....that meant that we were actually choosing to set the day's events in motion. I remember lying there in bed with Joe, knowing that I needed to get up, but not wanting to actually begin that day. But I eventually did get up- for Luke. We did this all for him.
I was feeling very jittery as I showered, dressed and prepared to leave our home for the last time with Luke, knowing that these were the last few minutes that he would be alive there with us. I knew that the next time we pulled back into our driveway, so much would be different and that our hearts would never be the same again. I took pictures of my point of view of Luke- looking down at my belly as well as a profile shot in a full length mirror because I always want to be able to remember how he looked to me and how we looked to others while he was alive and with us. I purposefully took my time trying to wrangle my socks on that day because I wanted to savor the feeling of fullness and the roundness of Luke's presence in my body. That day, I actually enjoyed how he impeded me from reaching my feet...not accomplished without great difficulty and shortness of breath. I spent time talking to him that morning and tapped my numb thigh a few extra times as I moved around, cherishing the feeling and wanting to forever remember the tingling numbness caused by Luke pressing on a particular nerve. I even savored putting on my giant down jacket that morning- a jacket that is usually large on me but had been fitting me snugly through the belly thanks to Luke. I sadly realized that it was the last time that it would keep us both warm.
Driving to the hospital that morning, Joe and I remarked at how it was such a "get back to normal day" for the majority of the population. The holidays were officially over. People were heading back to work and kids were getting back to school...things were returning to "normal" and people were settling back into the routine of their lives. Exactly opposite of what Joe and I were doing that morning...we were driving to the hospital preparing to meet our precious son, hopefully be able to love him for a few precious minutes and then watch him pass away into heaven's arms before our eyes. Not routine and certainly not "normal" for us.
We delivered Luke at Overland Park Regional Hospital and we were extremely well cared for during our stay. Our nurses were exceptional, their tenderness and sensitivity to our circumstances were beyond what we could have hoped. Back in October we had made an appointment with their staff to complete all of our pre-admission paperwork and had expressed our desires for some "special treatment" while we were there. These "special requests" were in line with our "special circumstances" yet, one never knows how those requests will land in reality or if they will even be remembered let alone valued. However, as we would soon realize, God was making sure that every possible aspect of Luke's birthday and arrival was well prepared for us in advance.
When we gave the ladies at the desk our name and explained that we were there for a 9am c-section, they did not even hesitate for a second. It was clear that they knew exactly who we were and what our circumstances were, but they did not give any outward sign of "Oh, we know who you are...you are the ones who are losing your baby today....you go over here...." Absolutely nothing of the sort. They kindly looked at us and directed us to a different department's desk to check in...in the antepartum unit.
The antepartum unit is the unit where women who are experiencing pregnancy complications that require medical monitoring reside. There are no babies on that unit, yet the nurses are skilled to handle anything mother/baby related. One of our requests was for our room to be located as far away from the labor and delivery unit as possible, yet (per Dr. Nichols' recommendation), in an area still staffed by nurses used to dealing with C-section patients immediately post-op. We made this request because we knew it would be especially difficult to be surrounded by joyful new mothers, healthy babies crying at all hours and the sounds of many happy visitors while we would be mourning and trying to survive those difficult, immediate hours and days following Luke's birth and passing. God saw too it that not only were we blessed with a private room in the antepartum unit (where we could not even hear babies crying), but our room was at the end of the hallway by ourselves. It was beautifully quiet and peaceful for us.
We walked from the first desk to the antepartum unit, located just down another hallway, and were kindly greeted by more nurses who also obviously knew who we were and quickly introduced us to Heather- our personal nurse (angel) for the day. God had arranged for her to have no other patients but us that day so we were her entire focus- another gift from above and more than we had ever expected. Our room was #3410 and per our request/their standard procedures, they had an image of a leaf with a teardrop posted outside of our door indicating that we had experienced a loss. A similar image was also beside our name on the board at the nursing desk. This image immediately communicated our circumstances to all staff entering our room in hopes of preventing anything inadvertently hurtful or inappropriate being said to us (How is your baby? etc). We were wonderfully protected during our stay and were extremely thankful for this protection.
As I mentioned in the post Not Alone, I was extremely nervous, scared, anxious and worried about what was going to happen that day. How the surgery would go, if I would be able to feel my legs and walk again afterward, what meeting our sweet son would be like if I would be able to control my grief at finally getting to meet him knowing he would be soon leaving us, worried that I would have an anxiety attack during the surgery....all of those fears and more were racing through me that morning. I was barely holding myself together.
Heather our nurse was fantastic from the start. Both Joe and I instantly liked her and felt comfortable with her. We gave her a copy of our birth plan which detailed our requests, hopes, desires and expectations for the day and for our time with Luke. She read through it and quickly set about making it all a reality. She returned to the room and began getting me prepped. I asked her what felt like a million questions: what was that IV for, what was that pill for, what was having a catheter like, how did that work post-op, what was post-op care like for a c-section, how long would my legs feel numb, could I go to the bathroom one more time before getting all settled in "for the duration"....on and on... She answered every single one with absolute patience. She did not make me feel stupid or make me feel like I was overreacting to something that was part of her absolute normal, daily routine. She made me feel comfortable, safe and informed and most importantly a little bit more at ease. She told me what to expect, who would be coming in and talking with us prior to the surgery and she was efficient and completely competent. She made it feel easy for me to relax which in that situation on that particular day was practically impossible.
I did feel a little bit of relief when Joe brought it to my attention that he had left his wallet, lip balm, belt and breakfast at the house... he had been so focused on me that he had forgotten some of his most routine items! It just made me smile and realize that I was not the only one with my mind in a million places that morning!
One of the requests we had in our birth plan was to get to hear Luke's heartbeat prior to his delivery. Heather not only made that possible, but she made it possible for the entire two hours before his delivery! We were expecting to hear his heartbeat using the hand-held Doppler and to hear him for about a minute or so...we would have been pleased with that- but Heather went above and beyond (as we would soon learn was her style) and rigged up a Doppler to an elastic belt-like thing and strapped it to my belly so we could hear it beating non-stop the entire two hour wait before his delivery. It was fantastic! We were thrilled, soothed and comforted by the steady rhythm and sound of his tiny heart beating during our wait. It was a fantastic gift and reminder of the mighty life housed inside my belly. Our sweet and strong son....our little guy for whom we would do absolutely anything.
One of the visitors we had that morning was from the anesthesiologist who would be present during Luke's delivery in the OR. He was going to be the one who administered the epidural and would be in charge of not only my pain management but also my "calmness-management" during the surgery. He was a nice man and while I felt confident in his abilities, I was still very anxious about being paralyzed from mid-torso down. He answered all of my questions to the best of his abilities, but I still felt worried as I signed my name on the release detailing everything that could possibly go wrong during the surgery. I just kept reminding myself that he does this many times a day, women do this every day and are fine and that most importantly, we were doing this for Luke.
One of the elements of Luke's delivery that I was not prepared for that morning was the discovery that the drugs available to help calm me down during his delivery should I require them, all had an amnesia effect- and if administered to me, would erase any memory I would have during that time. OBVIOUSLY, not remembering Luke's arrival or those precious moments of his short life was absolutely not an option for me. I had not realized the major ramifications of being administered those drugs during that time and the realization that they were no longer an option for me brought the necessity of my remaining calm and peaceful at ALL times during my surgery (especially the importance of calmness and stillness during the re-stitching and closing up my incision during the flood of emotion upon meeting our son) came into lazer sharp focus for me. This experience was truly going to require everything I had and I knew I was going to do my absolute best not only for Luke but for Joe as well, so he could just focus on Luke and not worry about me.
I knew we were getting close to "go-time" not just by the hands of the clock, which were somehow speeding rapidly towards 9am, but also because our parents came in to see us and give us their love, giant hugs and kisses of support through their tears and lots of emotion. Our dear friend, Harold also came in (more on him later) and prayed over us, for us and for Luke. And our OB, Dr. Nichols, came for a final check-in before she went to be prepped for our surgery. It all began happening so quickly. Joe was given his bright yellow scrubs, booties, hat and mask and once he got those on, it was time to go.
I could feel my heart beating in my chest and the blood rushing through my body. As I was being rolled down the hallway, I wiggled my toes as much as I could in case these were the last moments I would be able to do that. I felt terrified. I felt excited. I was completely flooded with emotions. I was absolutely crazy in love with my husband. I had my hands on my belly holding Luke as close as I could as we approached the two giant brown doors of the OR. This was it. We were going to finally meet our longed for, beloved Luke.
Sweet, sweet birthday of the little warrior Luke.
ReplyDeleteJoe, you are amazing. I loved reading about how you took such good care of Sarah. It's great to hear the details of this special day. Sarah, I just want you to know that I was praying specifically for the epidural. : )
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