So 4 years ago on this night, I was in extreme pain...LABOR...with my Samuel.
I had gone to the hospital the night before for extreme discomfort and they sent me home.
My contractions were all over the place, so I wasn't really in labor (according to them!)
Even after I explained I wasn't supposed to be in labor.
We were scheduled for a c-section later the following week.
Earlier in the evening, since I had already been turned away once,
I took the boys to Deb's house so we would be closer to the hospital.
About 3:30 am on October 1st, I hobbled like an old, bow legged cowboy to use the facilities.
was already doing an emergency c-section, so I had to wait.
It didn't seem like it was very long when they came to get me.
I remember the anesthesiologist poking me for the spinal block,
not really paying much attention to me.
He kept poking me on my lower tummy and asking if I was numb yet.
I was, but also strangely aware.
With my other 2, I was numb from the chest down.
But I wasn't this time.
I told Deb and she said something to the anesthesiologist.
His response? "Oh, she's fine!"
The OB arrived (one of my favorite guys!) and started.
The first sign that things may go awry was when he said,
"Suzanne, anyone ever told you there's a lot of scar tissue?"
Meanwhile, with every push and pull as he was trying to deliver
my baby boy, I was getting sicker and sicker.
I was feeling everything from my belly button up to my neck.
I told Deb I was going to throw up.
She told Dr Demento(the guy with the drugs :)
He threw her the emesis basin and said, "Here you go!"
I thought she was going to kill him!
After about 40 minutes, Sam was delivered.
He seemed to be fine. I was so happy to see him!
After recovery, they took me back to my room where Grandma Delores
was there waiting.
I was strangely disconnected.
I remember trying to watch LDS General Conference on TV while trying to nurse Sam.
It wasn't working so well.
I handed the baby to my mom and slept for a bit.
Took him back and the nurse (TRUE angel) came to check on us.
She frowned a bit when she listened to him breathe.
She said, "You know, Suzanne, the NICU pediatrician is here. I'm going to have him take a look at Sam."
I groggily agreed.
About an hour or so later, she came in and said he was being checked into the NICU.
He was having problems breathing properly.
I was instantly more awake.
The nurse was amazing!
She made arrangements for a couple of dear family friends
to go into the NICU to give Sam a Priesthood Blessing.
I was moved upstairs to the Pediatrics area the following morning.
Just happens that my sister works up there.
I stayed as long as my insurance would allow, so I checked out on Wednesday.
I had finally gotten to see Sam in Intensive Care
(without being chastised by the crew there)
I was a mess that day.
It took the Lactation Consultant coming to visit to get me to spill my guts.
I explained there was no way I was going to lactate if I couldn't even hold my baby!
Wooo wee! The look on her face froze!
She repeated, "You haven't held him?"
I started to BAWL!
I cried, "They were upset because I went down at the wrong time and it interfered with the schedule!"
"When is your next scheduled visit?"
"In about 20 minutes," I replied.
"You give me 10 minutes, then head down, understand?" she asked.
"Okay..." was kind of lost on her as she headed out the door.
Needless to say, the NICU staff changed their tune!
I held Sam and loved on him, so did Grandma.
We were able to take the boys, but they could only see him through the window.
One very kind act of service happened the day after I was released.
They were going to move
Sam up to Pediatircs, so I'd need to go stay with him.
As I trudged into the hospital room with my sister in tow,
I saw my very little baby laying all by himself in a huge room
inside of a big metal jail cell!
I was slightly dismayed since I was still recovering from surgery.
Deb quickly went out to the nurses station and worked some magic~
in a couple of minutes a regular bed arrived
along with a "normal" isolette for Sam.
My baby was finally mine!
We were released the next day.
Over the weekend, I noticed Sam would cry when I moved him.
I mentioned it to his pediatrician on Monday.
As he checked him, he said "Well, his clavicle is broken."
"You know, Suzanne, it's not unusual during a vaginal birth," he reasoned.
I said, "Except he was a C-SECTION!"
Needless to say, he lived! But he was sure a trip upon his arrival!
Came to find out our blood had crossed during the birth,
which isn't a good thing, since I am Rh- and he isn't!