I’ve got a pickle!

I’ve got a pickle!

I’ve got a pickle!  Hey hey hey hey!

The new trick.  {Please don’t make fun of Owen’s poor little head of hair.  He is very sensitive about it.}

 And again, you can tell me my boys look alike {like everyone else and their mom}.  But I won’t believe you.

Erik did a great job giving a detailed account of Owen’s rocket ride here to our family.  The biggest shock for me was how fast everything went.  It barely gave me a chance to take it all in.  With Samuel, it was still a pretty quick delivery at 6 hours, but I had to push for 2 1/2.  So this time, when all of a sudden I was being flung into stirrups, surrounded by several nurses, watching the doctor rush in, and being told to PUSH PUSH PUSH, I barely had time to even think “Oh, wow, I’m pushing already” when Erik said, “I can see his head.  Now I see his ears.”  I’m pretty sure I said, “What?!  Are you serious?!”  And then all of a sudden there was a baby, and I just could not believe how crazy fast it happened.

Like Erik wrote, there were some scary moments.  Probably for me, the scariest was driving to the hospital at 4 am, tears streaming down my face, squeezing Erik’s hand, and imagining the best case scenario as an emergency c-section.  I am so thankful for the power of prayer, for the faith of my husband, and all the many blessings our little family received that night, the best one of course being little Owen James.

So after a few busy days at the hospital, we are home!!  We were discharged this morning, and spent an excellent day back in real life.  Samuel was so excited to see all three of us, and ran outside yelling in his shakey excited voice, “Hey Daddy!  Hey Mommy!  Ooh, it’s the baby.”  He has been so great helping out, giving soft touches, and just being a good sport all around.

Owen . . . well . . . who knew?!  Who knew babies ATE and SLEPT?!  I am totally shooting myself in the foot, I’m sure, and knocking awfully loud on wood right now, but holy moley is he just one sweet little angel.  Owen has slept most of the day, woken up to feed every 2 hours for about 15 minutes, let us look at him for a bit, before falling back asleep.  He even fell asleep while I changed a poopy diaper.  He makes the cutest little whines while he sleeps, I so love his fuzzy blonde head, and I can’t stop giving eskimo kisses to his darling button nose.

And now, as the percacet does its work, I should probably get some rest.  But I must say, day one at home was a success.  If my mom moves in, Erik becomes a stay-at-home dad, and we continue to have meals delivered to our door, I’m pretty sure I can totally do this!

Regularly scheduled programming will resume shortly.  In there interim, you will just have to deal with Annelise’s other half, as I write today’s post.

Born: Sunday, June 14, 2009 @ 10:30 am
Weight: 8 points, 4 oz.
Length: 20 inches
Description: Sandy Blonde Hair, chubby arms and legs

Story
It all started for me at 3:30am, when Annelise woke me up and told me she hadn’t felt the baby in over 30 mins, and had barely felt him over the last few hours.  Since I had less than 1.5 hours of sleep at that point, I was a bit out of it (“dazed and confused” comes to mind).  We called our doctor, and he said we could drink something cold and wait a bit, or head to the hospital to have things checked out.  We decided that it would be best to just head to the hospital at that point.  She had been up and about for those 30 minutes trying to wake him up by doing things.

We arrived at the hospital at around 4:15am, and had the nurse hook up the monitors to check things out.  Thankfully, we immediately were able to find the heartbeat, and he started moving as soon as we were situated.  Due to him moving around a lot, it was difficult to get a good baseline, since the monitors kept showing gaps.  They decided to keep us an hour, and then another hour.  Finally, they decided to wait til 7am before decided to send us home, or to induce.  I stayed awake the whole time, but just barely.  I was concentrating on the heartbeat.

Let me stop here and go back to the morning trip the the hospital.  Since I was groggy, it was easy to let Annelise assume I wasn’t talkative because of the grogginess, but I was really running scenarios in my mind.  I had put my ear up to her belly for a few minutes and couldn’t hear anything.  Fear is an interesting thing, and it can do magical things to you if you let it.  And by magical, I really mean crazy.  I spent that time deciding what type of mourning parent I might be asked to become, and how I might be able to pull it off.  I like to prepare myself for the worst, but never let that actually make me lose my wits.  I was just logically trying to prepare my mind, so if something were to happen, and these fears were to fruit, I would at least have a leg up.  Now, I mention all this because it comes into play later.  You’ll just have to keep reading to find out how.

7am comes and they decide to tell us that we can stay and they will induce Annelise soon.  At this point, we decided I should go back home and get the cameras, which were left from our hasty departure.  We also thought it would be good if Sam did not wake up in his second floor room, only to find that nobody on floor 2 (our room) or floor 1 were around.  Mormor (Mom’s Mom in Danish) was in the Basement sleeping, and we had given her the monitor before we left, but we still didn’t know how Sam would take it.  We both assumed he would go searching for us in our room, and then go back into his room and cry on his bed.  Luckily, we were both wrong, because as I was headed home, Sam had woken up and went looking.  Before leaving, I decided to not lock the gate at the top of the stairs, in case he wanted to go searching for Mormor or someone, and he could go down.  Well, he had taken that opportunity and gone looking for us down on floor 1.  Thankfully, Mormor heard him looking for us and went upstairs to meet him.  When I got home, there they were sitting on the couch, watching TV (at least 30 minutes before he usually gets up, the twerp).

I showered and grabbed the Cameras and had a small chat with Sam before heading back to the hospital.  I reminded him that his baby brother was coming today; telling him it was Baby Owen’s birthday (Sam loves birthdays).  I reminded him that he had a present to give to his new brother, and that I would be back later to come and bring him to meet his new brother.  I then headed back to the hospital.  Oh, and when I say on facebook that I was driving, literally, I was driving to and from, with my phone in hand typing the updates, so everyone would know!  I took the opportunity to call and get a sub for my class at church (@7:45am, sorry, I had no other choice!).  Annelise called a minute later and said that they had just broken her water and had started the Pitocin.  I was rounding the corner to the Hospital, good timing.

The whirlwind then begins.  It’s about ten after 8 by the time I get upstairs.  She started Pitocin at around 8, and by 8:30, she had gone from 3cm to 6cm.  The Doctor wasn’t there yet, so they stopped Pitocin at this point, to make sure she’s not ready before he got there.  He shows up, checks things out and decides to wait for the baby.  Without Pitocin, 30 minutes go by with nothing.  During this time, the epidural has come.  By now its after 9am.  They decide to start Pitocin again.  Another 30-40 minutes go by and now she is to 9cm.  I was getting pretty tired by this point, and each time they would leave the room, I’d sit and watch the monitor, starting to doze.  Then, when they would come back in to check on things, or help Annelise roll over, to better situate the Baby’s heartbeat and stress, I would go back to full alert.  Any who, who really cares about me in this story!

By now, they had come in many times because the Baby’s heart was going all over the place.  For the most part, this was normal, but it was spiking and then dropping during a contraction.  The nurse explained that most likely the cord was probably wrapped around something.  Lots of maneuvering later, things seemed to be steady and she was ready to go.  It was close to 10am by this point.  That bustle of activity starts up in the room, and the NICU crew brings in some equipment.  Apparently earlier during one of the nurse’s checks, she saw a little bit of Meconium, which is not usually a good sign.  She didn’t see any more later, so it was just to be safe.

If the previous two paragraphs was the beginning of a whirlwind, this one is the beginning of a whirlwind and something else much faster.  The doctor comes in and we are ready to go.  The heart rate had dropped lower than they normally like, so it was time to get moving.  The next contraction is the start of the pushing.  He pulls out the vacuum suction doohickey and decides its time to help things go even faster.  After the first round of pushing, I can already see the head.  The next contraction and round of pushing show the ears, and by the third round, it was over.  It took about 10 pushes and a matter of minutes (that you can count on two hands).

The story doesn’t stop here.  The baby came out pretty quiet and a little blue.  The cord was indeed wrapped around his torso, but not his neck.  Okay, they’ll just grab him and work their magic.  That’s just what they do.  The NICU crew had him for a good couple minutes before we finally heard some noises.  They had to use a respirator for the first 30 seconds to help him get breathing.  After that, things seemed fine.  I got to go over and get some pics.  After about 10 minutes, they allowed me to hold him, and I took him to see his Mom.  This is when he got his name, Owen James Briggs.  About a minute into Mommy time, the nurse wasn’t liking his color.  She called in some of the NICU crew to come take a look and they decided his capillary action wasn’t quite fast enough.  It was most likely a volume issue, not something wrong with his heart, they said.  He just needed more fluids.

So, a couple minutes later, Owen and I went off to the NICU.  This was an interesting place.  Obviously it’s not a place you want to be, but should you ever need to be there, there is no better place on Earth for a baby.  (Here is where I could go off on a rant about home-birthing, but I’ll refrain).  There is an amazing amount of staff in such a small place, all dedicated to helping your baby.  Our mission here was to get an IV drop into Owen.  Attempt 1 was in his hand; no go.  Attempt 2 was in his head; strike two.  Attempt 3 finally worked in his head.  This is where the catheter from the pics come from.

They also wanted to get some tests while he was there, and draw some blood.  They pricked his heel, to no avail.  Finally, after a second prick, the got almost a full tube full (those tiny pipet looking ones).  This victory was short lived, however, because in the rigamarole, it clotted and was unuseable.  Someone had to come back multiple more times to get more blood for a CBC and for the standard stuff.  They also did a blood culture to check for infection.  All of this took about 4 hours.  All the while I stared at the only thing I could, the monitors that were telling me his heartrate, oxygen saturation level and his respiration rate.  One of the nurses told me what levels to look for, so I spent four hours of inflicting my will upon the numbers.  I couldn’t go anywhere else in my mind, I had to sit there and will the numbers to do my bidding.  Small battles were lost, but I (Owen, really) came back strong and regained the lost ground. 

By 3PM we had won the final battle and conquered the NICU.  He sat there under a heating lamp while I worked the numbers.  We were an unstoppable team, and he taught me many lessons during that short time. 

Now we can go back to the car ride.  Because both Annelise and I had already accepted the worst possible outcome, we never once worried.  What seemed like 5 minutes passing by without a peep right after he was brought into this world, but neither of us bothered to worry.  We both just watched and waited.  Maybe the whirlwind happened so fast we had no time to drop into despair, but it never came, not even once.  I surfed the waters of the NICU like I was standing upright on a tiny canoe during the rainy season.  The rapids were tough, and most sat down and held on, but I alone stood to surf it out.  That’s how it felt, and those words probably make no sense, but they will be there for me to remember.

I have no idea what it was like for Annelise to see here baby for 5 minutes and then not see him for hours.  I do know that whatever overcame me, also overcame her.  Anyone that knows her knows that anxiety is practically a constant, but not today.  That special calm (known as the Spirit of God for those who know it) swept through the halls of the Hospital and helped us come through without a scratch.  I have had many many experiences with less potential to cause worry and stress do far worse.  We floated through on a pocket of air.  It was easy as pie.

I went home once we knew all was well to get Sam and introduce him to little brother.  This went better than we could have expected.  Sam was very quiet and gave Owen a little monkey as a gift (something Annelise had prepped him for).  He was very sweet, and wispered because Owen was sleeping.  He was a little uncomfortable, but warmed up through the visit.  Afterwards, we celebrated with a guys night out to McDonald’s and got him some scumptious, now with white meat, chicken nuggets.  He was awesome.  I prepped him for bed and Mormor and autie C came back from meeting Owen to help do the rest.  I returned back to the Hospital and Owen is being a champ.

Now, having only got 2 hours of sleep so far this weekend, I am growing weary.  The Spirit doesn’t last forever; for we are merely mortals.  That being said, there is an angel sleeping in our room tonight.  His name is Owen James Briggs, and he has already done things his older brother never has.  What a little miracle!  Time for sleep for the three of us!