Xavier Grant

May 16, 2011, I woke up just after 12 am with slight pains in my side and lower stomach. Baby was moving and seemed very unsettled. I sleepily rubbed my stomach, and tried to go back to sleep. I dozed off for a few minutes, then was awaken by the same pains in my side and lower stomach. I waited for it to pass, then tried to go back to sleep. The pains didn’t subside. It was then that I noticed that the pains were coming in a pattern. I turned on my cell phone and began to time the pains, looking for a clear pattern. Five minutes apart. This was much more serious than pain; these were contractions. I had been there before, and the night seemed eerily similar to the day I gave birth to Layla. Tim was at work, I woke up in pain, and something inside of me was telling me it was show time.
I jumped out of bed, and received confirmation that I was indeed in labor. I had diarrhea and a little bit of spotting. Oh no, I thought, not again. I ran a quick bath and called Tim to come home to sit with Layla while I went to labor and delivery. I began to pray and plead to the universe that this was false labor and that our baby boy would not be born so soon. I pleaded for another month, week, or even just one more day for my son to stay with me. I drove to the hospital repeating the same prayer over and over, only pausing to call Dr. Westerholm to tell her I was on my way to labor and delivery.
The drive to the hospital was agonizing for me. I didn’t have the pain of a typical woman in labor. Instead of physical pain, I felt pain in my heart for what was almost certain to come. I could feel our son kicking so low, almost as if he were already in the birth canal. I willed my body to hold on to him.

I finally arrived at the emergency room, and was whisked away to labor and delivery by an E.R. nurse. She wished me luck and left me with the labor and delivery nurses in the prenatal observation room. Minute by minute, my anxiety built. The nurses could not find baby’s heartbeat with the fetal monitor or Doppler. I could feel him move, so I knew he was fine, but I also knew not being able to find his heartbeat was not a good sign. The nurses tried to reassure me that this sometimes happens with babies that gestational age. I wanted to point out that I had had no problem finding his heartbeat since I was 9 weeks pregnant, but I couldn’t speak.

Dr. Westerholm returned my call while I was lying on the observation table and told me that since I had had intercourse recently, all of the drama was probably due to false contractions. I wanted to believe that, but my soul was telling me otherwise. She gave authorization for the nurses to check my cervix, and I was immediately given the news that I would be delivering shortly. The nurse removed her gloved hand from my body and it was covered in blood. She told me that I was dilated to 6-7 centimeters, she felt a bulging bag of water, and she had felt him kick her hand. My heart dropped. The nurse reclined the table all the way back and told me I was to remain flat and still until the doctor came to deliver me. My heart was heavy as I called and told Tim the news.

The anesthesiologist made it to my bedside first. He explained the process of receiving a spinal for a cesarean section, but the explanation fell on deaf ears. I could barely hear more than my heartbeat at the point, and nothing else mattered. I kept going over the statistics in my head that I have googled so many times before. I began to calculate the likelihood that my baby would survive. All I wanted was for him to live.
Dr. Westerholm arrived, and seeing her face at my bedside spoke volumes about the seriousness of delivering so early. She apologized over and over. She was heartbroken because she was on our side throughout this pregnancy. She wanted this baby to be term just as much as we did. I want you to understand that this time may be a little different than last time. Layla Bug did so well, but this baby is five weeks earlier. A baby is viable at 24 weeks, and the risk of mortality decreases each week then drops way off around 28 weeks, which is about where we are today. I heard the unspoken words clearly.

She did an ultrasound to verify presentation and told me that I would be having a cesarean. Baby was still transverse, so a vaginal delivery would not be possible. What was more was that I would be having a classic cesarean because of baby’s position. Your uterus will forever be weakened and you will never be able to deliver vaginally in the future.

I was numb as I was prepped for surgery. The anesthesiologist attempted to administer my spinal while I was lying down in an attempt to prevent my bag of waters from rupturing, which could lead to baby falling into the birth canal. He tried twice unsuccessfully. The team sat me up for the spinal, and in this position it was completed in one attempt in less than 15 seconds. I was later told that I was sitting in a pool of blood. I was too numb to notice. I felt the anesthesia take hold of my body as the team helped me to recline flat on my back. I looked into the surgical lights and could see my body reflected in the glass of the light bulbs. It was an out of body experience to see my body lying there but to not be able to feel it.

Surgery began and Tim was escorted to my bedside. We stared into each other’s eyes and did not need to speak. We both saw the shock, hurt, fear, and disappointment of being faced with another preterm delivery. Our fingers laced together as the journey began. The anesthesiologist’s voice was a dark cloud above my head as he explained that the delivery room would probably be silent when baby was born. You may not hear crying. If you do hear crying it will be very brief while baby is intubated. The breathing tube that will be inserted blocks the vocal cords… I floated away to wait for my son.

I felt tugging and pressure.“Delivery!” a nurse announced the arrival of Xavier Grant. I heard a gurgle and cries filled the room. All three doctors and nurses expressed surprise that he was breathing and crying! Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I thanked God for that small miracle. I tried to catch a glimpse of the piece of my soul that would forever live outside of my body, but the team of NICU nurses blocked my view. Apgar numbers were announced at 8 and 9.

I waited patiently to see my son. The NICU team finally brought him to see me, and I was completely humbled at the sight of him. I stared at his little face and listened to him cry. He was so small and fragile, yet his presence was so powerful. He no longer belonged to just me; I would have to share him with the perils of the world and all things unknown. Life had just begun for Xavier, and as he was taken to the NICU, I made the promise that many in my position have made before me: I would dedicate my life to making his better.

All we need is the dog...

is what Tim said when we found out that our newest addition is a baby boy! I was pretty shocked, even though I have had symptoms that were light years away from the symptoms I had with Layla.



Even though I was only 15 weeks + 2 days, it was pretty apparent that the shape shifter was a boy. The appointment went well. I gained another two pounds, which puts me at 5 lbs total. Not bad, not great. I felt as if I had gained a ton more because it seems that I just can not get full! I have heard that when you are pregnant with a boy, you tend to be hungrier. I sure hope this little one has mercy on me. My prayer is that I make it out of this pregnancy weighing less than 400 lbs.
This week also marked the second week of my p-17 injections. The home health care nurse came over and instructed Tim on how to give the shot in my hip. The anxiety of having an intramuscular needle pierce through my skin, fat, and muscle was much worse than the actual act itself. The shots aren't bad at all. I actually didn't feel it all the first time, so I have dubbed my right side as "The Good Hip". Eh, only in the sense of how well it can take a intramuscular injection. Apparently it decided to be good at something since it is no good at holding up my body weight. I look pretty silly walking, and bouncing along as if I am normal and in shape, only to have the right hip slip in its determination to bring me to the ground. So far, I am winning the battle, but only because I know how to anticipate an attack seconds in advance.
Score: Me-1, Hip-0.

Missing that former life

It's amazing how things in your life can change in an instant. Other than the occasional boredom, I have been content with being a stay at home mom to Layla. Today I visited my former school, and I realized just how much I miss everyone and teaching. It was bitter sweet seeing my classroom inhabited by another teacher. On one hand it's nice to see the room where you spent so much time and grew so much as a teacher, but on the other hand you feel territorial because you still feel like it is your room, and someone else is there with your things.
It was bittersweet seeing my old students. My heart swelled with pride when they squealed my name in excitement as soon as I walked into the building--wanting to jump out of their seats--but their allegiance to their new teacher kept them seated. It is nice to be remembered. It is amazing to be remembered, especially in young minds. Since I have been home, I have seen a student here and there, and they always come to say hi, but being in a school with many students shouting your name makes you feel like a celebrity for a day. :-) It was so nice to catch up with my former coworkers too. I really needed this today because I have been feeling...blah.
This pregnancy has been so much different than when I was pregnant with Layla. I already feel as if I am falling apart. Pubic symphysis disorder has already kicked in, my hips give out, my elbows ache, my knees ache, and my tailbone has to be soaked nightly. I am also "showing" a lot earlier than last time. I don't look pregnant yet, but my weight has started to redistribute itself to my stomach already, making it necessary for me to wear maternity shirts. I get nauseous a lot, but don't vomit as much.
I go back to the doctor on Feb 18, and may possibly be able to find out the gender of this baby. Tim and I are both hoping for another little girl, but since this child will complete our family, a boy will be fine.

First u/s

I'd like to discuss the most important element of yesterday's u/s first. I GAINED TWO POUNDS!! After I gave my urine sample, the MA said the dreaded words, "I need you to go ahead and step on the scale." I take off my shoes in a misguided attempt to make myself weigh less and step on the scale. The numbers tallied, then flashed the total across the small screen, and I instantly remember why I don't like going to the doctor's. Jimminy Crickets!!
Even though I was five minutes late (which I hate), gained two pounds, and had a blood pressure slightly higher than normal, I had a good appointment.

My doctor found the heartbeat right away at 122 bpm. We weren't able to hear it because it was too early, but we saw it beating strongly. I was also measuring one week behind where I thought I was. This was slighly disheartening, but ultimately we must go by the doctor's measurements. My doctor assured me that this was normal and that some people are off on dates and their own estimates. She gave us five pictures and pointed out where the arm buds were. I couldn't tell where on the shapeshifter she saw arms, but we took her word for it.

I also want to note that this pregnancy is different from when I was pregnant with Layla. The most noticeable difference is that the fatigue is worse. I nap daily and go to bed between 8:30-9, and that's still not enough. I don't know how I chased kindergarteners around all day when I was pregnant with Layla.

Another noticeable difference is that my belly is bigger already and my tailbone is already killing me. I can't even sit down comfortably most days. I didn't get this ailment until late second trimester with Layla.

My boobs are also less sore. With Layla, I had to take one boob at a time out of my bra when I undressed.

Finally, I have less nausea. Don't get me wrong, it's there, but I have only vomited once, and this was before I even knew I was pregnant. I dry heave a lot and gag, especially in the mornings when we are brushing our teeth. Layla thinks it's funny and likes to imitate me. I just look at her and promise myself that one day when she becomes a mom, I will not hesitate to remind her of this.

First Appointment

It's starting to feel more real and less like someone painted two pink lines on my pregnancy test.
Today we went for our first appointment. Everything was routine and as expected: pee in a cup, blood work, checking my weight and blood pressure. The doctor said that I will be monitored closely for preterm labor so that means good and bad news. The good news is that I will get plenty of ultrasounds. The bad news is that I will have to start weekly progesterone shots in the hip. Of course I consulted Dr. Google and found that those shots are supposed to be super painful. I guess it will be worth it though if they help me go full term. This is my sincerest hope and prayer, to deliver full term. I would stand on my head once a week for two hours if my doctor told me it would increase my chances of delivering a full term baby.

My first ultrasound is December 23. I can't wait to see the baby and to make sure everything is ok and progressing normally!

Overjoyed

I am in shock, but we did it again.







Last Saturday I woke up in the middle of the night vomiting after eating beef. That tipped me off, as I couldn't tolerate red meat when pregnant with Layla. I took a series of tests, and they were all negative until yesterday.

I think I'm four weeks and due the first week of August, but I can't be sure until I see my doctor.

Tim and I are thrilled, but scratching temples.
They do come true when you believe.

Hurricane Layla

Houston, we have a walker.
Amid all of the destruction, I am still thrilled.





This is her work on a daily basis. I have yet to come completely out of my neat-freak-structured-everythingmustbe-orderly mode. I'm working on it because I am exhausted.

Here she is singing "Ditzy Ditzy Bah Bah", her attempt to sing "Itsy Bitsy Spider".