I got something better! A tiny, fragile, ginger human being, who looked both mysterious and yet so familiar. A bit like looking at myself and my husband at the same time. He was born at 36w6d because I’d been suffering horribly with cholestasis. For those who aren’t familiar, it’s a condition where you itch so badly you literally scratch your skin off. I was diagnosed 4 weeks prior and it was the loooooooongest 4 weeks of my life, waiting for c section day! The plan was to take him early so there would be no risks to his health, and I would no longer suffer the intense and crazy-making itching! We had no idea what was to come.
He was born at 3:03pm on Valentine’s Day. His little life didn’t start well, he needed resuscitation and I never got to see him be pulled out of me, or right afterwards. I remember holding my breath as they worked on him over in the corner. His first cry was feeble but determined. I cried too. Before I’d really registered what was going on, they said they were taking him straight upstairs and asking did my husband want to go too. I answered for both of us “Yes, yes, stay with him, go with him!” It broke my heart (the first of many times) to watch them leave. I didn’t see his face. I was paralyzed on the table, being painstakingly stitched back together and all I wanted was to see his face. I think I cried more, and I think the anesthesiologist slipped me something to calm me down. I stared at the ceiling just waiting to be done.
Back in my post partum room I was tucked up in bed by one of the nurses. I have to give a shout out here to all of the post partum nurses at the Brigham. I can’t remember anyone’s name. But I remember how very, very kind and compassionate and gentle they were with me. I was a mess. They brought me meds, water, tissues, hugs, a sympathetic ear. After a while, Jon returned and all I wanted was to see photos of our son and to know he was ok. So the first time I ever laid eyes on my baby, was on the screen of an iPhone. I saw his fiery red hair, his translucent skin, heard his fierce cry and stared at the few open eyed shots, trying to connect the dots. This was the baby that had been rolling around in me for the last 36 weeks. It felt surreal. We named him, Alexander Jacob Wright. I itched in my soul to be with him and I started bugging my nurses to let me go up to the nicu. Around 10pm I think it was, they dosed me up with a little extra pain relief and helped me into a wheelchair, catheter and all. Jon pushed me through corridors, up elevators and into a private room on the nicu. I laid eyes on my son and it’s like the last, missing puzzle piece clicked into place. The nurse laid him on my chest and within seconds I was completely smitten. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Between the drugs and the rush of love, I was high as a kite! And the 20 minutes I was supposed to stay there holding him turned into over 2 hours.
I didn’t want to let him go. But after a while my meds started wearing off and I felt really shaky and rough. Time to go back to the room for more meds and to sleep. I kissed his sweet head and breathed him in, over and over. Then said goodnight and Jon took me back to the room.
I could hear other babies crying in neighboring rooms all night. I got no sleep. At about 5am two drs burst in and told us our baby was not feeding, was not able to feed, he had no connection between his mouth and stomach, the esophagus didn’t connect. He would need to be transferred next door to Children’s Hospital as soon as possible. They dropped this bombshell then swept out as fast as they’d arrived. Jon and I had no clue about anything we’d been told. At 730am the nicu called to see if I wanted to go up to see him before they transferred him. I said of course, and Jon pushed me up there. I held him briefly. He looked much more poorly. My chest physically hurt seeing him like that. I was terrified I’d lose him after only just meeting and falling in love with him. I sent Jon with him next door, and a nurse took me back to my room. Where I cried as I figured out how to use the breast pump that had been delivered for me. I figured the very least I could do was collect colostrum and milk for him, so he’d have the very best of nourishment once he could eat.
Jon came back, with more pictures and said he was settled there in the nicu. Another surgeon and his resident visited us from Children’s later that morning and explained in greater detail what was going on.
The Ginger Warrior 