Zoe's Story

I know everyone wants to hear how my first week at work went, but I just can't update that right now, for a lot of reasons. I will soon, I promise, but the words just aren't coming right now.
Today's guest post is by Shealynn. You might know her from the fabulous camera strap covers she makes (my camera strap is, sadly, coverless, but when the magical days of me getting a paycheck begin again, you know where I'm getting one!). This post means a lot to me. I've talked before about how very lucky I am to carry my pregnancies past 40 weeks, knowing that some women would give anything to see that due date come and go. Also, someone I love very much has a baby in the NICU right now, so it's a huge comfort to read and remember how little babies are such big fighters.

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What does 10 weeks mean to you?

On October 17, 2006 it meant being scared out of my mind. Why? Let me tell you a story.

It was October 16th, 2006. I was 30 weeks pregnant with my 2nd child. It was also my dad's birthday. My husband, Angelina [our oldest daughter] and I went to my parent's house for dinner to celebrate. My stomach begins aching like I ate too much. It becomes a regular coming and going stomach ache. We realize this. Begin timing them. They're coming every 8-9 minutes. Weird.

I call my doctor after a little while... she says "Go to the hospital." Husband [Mike] and I say "see you later" to mom and dad. Give Angelina a kiss. Leave for hospital. I am sort of freaking out in my mind. Wondering what is going on, and fearing my body is betraying me.

Get to the hospital. Hooked up to monitors. Things are fine. Until the nurse checks me... "Shealynn. You are 6cm dilated. We can't stop your labor."

That's when the world stops. Only for a moment. Everything pauses. I remember my mind blanking for a few seconds [which seemed like forever]. Then thinking, "What did she just say?" "What?" "NO! I am only 30 weeks pregnant!!!"

I come back to reality. Mike is incredible. Holding my hand. Telling me everything is going to be OK, as he always does. Because he's like that. He's great at comforting. I can no longer hold back tears. I am afraid. I am confused, and stunned, and wishing it wasn't happening. Wishing that Zoe would stay put for 10 more weeks. But she wasn't. She was coming early. Time to face it.

My doctor comes in. I LOVE her. She is very sweet, very comforting, and very nurturing. Like every great doctor should be. She must have seen the fear on my face. She holds my hand. Tells us that Zoe's survival rate is 99%. My fear temporarily subsides. Good. She has a 99% chance of survival. She is a girl, which ups her chances as well. We are told girls tend to fight harder. I am relieved... mostly.

I opt out of an epidural. I am not in much pain, so don't think it's necessary. Who was I kidding? 1 hour later. I was begging for it. It was too late. :( REAL no medicine child birth is hard to describe. The pain is so intense and I am writhing in pain. Can't focus. I beg for something. I get Demoral. It does not take the pain away. It makes me feel drunk. I feel like I have had several beers. That did not help my focus. A NICU team comes in. Prepares for Zoe's arrival. 10 weeks early.

Now, I am a guest here. I will not be grossing anyone out during my visit, promise. So, after a while, Zoe was born. Mike teared up. Saying over and over "She's crying! She's crying!" Then. I cried.

Zoe Rae
3 lbs 4oz
17 inches
Born at 2:41 am 10/17/06
10 weeks premature

I am allowed to quickly kiss her. Then she is rushed off to the NICU. Since she is born at 30 weeks, she is considered "Very Premature". She had to be taken to another hospital. 1 hour after birth, Zoe is brought into our room. She is intubated and in an incubator on a stretcher ready for transport. I am not allowed to touch her, hold her, kiss her. This is hard for me. Even now [over 3 years later]... I am getting teary.

Zoe is transported to a hospital 20 minutes away. I feel empty. Just gone into labor, but my baby isn't there. Mike comforts me. He is amazing. I cry and sleep, cry and sleep.

Literally a few hours later at 9am, we are up and ready to leave the hospital, and see Zoe. She was so tiny! I remember seeing her and being so shocked at her tiny*ness! So little. But, she was doing great! Breathe. She was OK...

Long story short...

Zoe was in the hospital for 5 1/2 weeks. Her lowest weight was 2lbs 12oz

Leaving the hospital she weighed 4lbs 3oz

She was TINY! :)

We surprised Angelina with her arrival home. Her sister was home to stay. Angelina was over the moon. We all cried. A happy ending to a scary time.

And to see Zoe now. You'd never know she was born 10 weeks early. She is a spunky, funny, intelligent, stubborn, loving little girl.

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I must say that being in the NICU taught me so much. Taught me to be patient. I wanted Zoe home so badly, but knew she had to grow, and breathe on her own and just get healthy. It taught me strength. I had to be strong for Zoe, for my oldest daughter Angelina, for myself. Mostly for myself. It taught me to cherish. Cherish life, cherish love, and laughter, and family. You never realize just how precious life is until you see your 2 pound 12 ounce baby in an incubator and not able to breathe alone. The NICU taught me that Zoe is a fighter. She is truly stubborn, and that's what she needed to be in the NICU. The NICU also taught me that God is in control. That we should rely on Him, and lay our cares and worries at His feet, for he knows all, sees all. He knows the desires of our hearts. And He was holding Zoe in his hands all the while.

Having a premature child is rough. It will run you ragged, kick you while your down, bring you to your knees. Our story has a happy ending, but there are so many that don't. I counted my blessings daily while she was in the NICU. I met so many woman in the NICU that didn't have the happy ending we had. There were deaths, and medical problems and surgeries, and complications. I thank God every day for my children. They truly are amazing amazing gifts from above.