This coming Monday, March 14, 1995, my eldest son turns 16 years old. I remember that day like it was yesterday. The day I went into labor. Jeff's labor was rather text book and 11 hours and 45 minutes long. I remember telling his dad that ti was time to go to the hospital. I remember the drive there, when his dad stopped for a green light and missed a crucial turn. I remember having both back and front labor and being in extreme pain, for you see in my first trimester, I was in a 5 car collision which wrecked my back. I remember asking Jeff's dad to get me my nurse as I was in extreme pain and I remember his dad refusing me. I remember the last 45 minutes where my doctor had me push two hard pushes grab a quick breath and push two more times before I rested. It was a hard 45 minutes. I remember Jeffrey finally being born and his dad saying "It's a boy!" and my dr said "No it's not, not until I say it! It's a boy!"
I remember our first few wonderful days. I remember the day when we were to go home, when Jeffrey and I woke up and Jeffrey was deathly ill. I remember being told we weren't going home. Jeffrey was going to ICU but because he was so ill, he was in isolation. I remember like yesterday that they then told me I was unable to stay with my baby but they could not guarantee his life. I remember the fear that haunted me, it still haunts. As every night they sent me home, without a diagnosis and without a guarantee that when i returned the next day, I would still have a baby. Multiple tests later, two spinal cords later, no one knows what my baby has, why he is so sick. Two pediatricians, all the nurses in the maternity ward and all the nurses in the NICU could not identify what my beautiful baby was so sick with. I remember that they brought a special photographer in to photograph my baby, For you see that day we were supposed to go home, when I woke up, I was covered in a mustard yellow pus. As was Jeffrey. And it was seeping from the crown of his head. But Jeffrey wasn't a forceps delivery, or a suction delivery. For all intents and purposes, it was "textbook."
But no one knew why he was sick. He was on round the clock meds...7 antibiotics...each running through his system via intravenous and machine pumped, four times a day. They brought the photographer in to take pictures of my son's head. He had a ring flash. For those of you that don't know, that is a flash attached to the lens, that wraps around the lens. It's blinding. I was told to hold Jeffrey with his face against my chest and look away or else the flash would blind me. For you see, Jeff was being written up in medical journals.
Jeff was born on a Tuesday, the following Tuesday we have a diagnosis. Jeff has a weird presentation of strep/staff. It presented on the crown of his head because he was so long in the birth canal. So.......I made my son sick, I nearly killed my son. It was after Jeff that a new protocol came into effect. After Jeff, all women became tested for strep/staff in their third trimester. If positive, they are given antibiotics as well as antibiotics during delivery so that they don't experience what we experienced.
On March 14, that horror was 16 years ago. For on Monday, my beautiful boy turns 16. And for those of you that have spoken to me about Jeff's birthday, that will happen tomorrow. Dinner and presents happen tomorrow for I have to work on his birthday so it makes more sense to do it tomorrow. So please, watch for the follow-up post.
Jeff and I survived that week. I went into a bit of insanity. For that week, I would not leave the hospital til 1 am and I would return by 6 am. I insisted on giving my child every possible advantage, which for me meant that I pumped so much milk so that Jeff could be fed through the night, that I had many bottles too many. I overproduced milk, but when I was told to leave him, not knowing if I would return to a living child, that was the best gift that I could give him. He was being denied my arms in that critical week, so I gave him the best thing I could give him. For after all, I nearly killed him. And now he turns 16. His life has not been easy. But he is a fighter. And he is a tender hearted fighter.
When he was 18 months, we got pictures done. This is my favorite.
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