What a Difference a Year Makes

One year ago, we welcomed our second born. Little T was born into this world at 36w5d gestation. At nearly 7lbs and 20 inches long, he was the largest baby in the NICU and filled his incubator with little room to spare. He was beautiful; tubes, wires and all.

At 35 weeks, I was put on hospital bedrest for high blood pressure and a low platelet count. By my second week, I was ready to welcome baby T into my arms. Having nothing to do but sit in bed 24 hours a day, 7 days a week can really mess with a girl's rational. It didn't matter that he would be early, I just knew that he would be okay and sincerely doubted we would be needing the services of the NICU.

My blood work came back slightly askew and my OB decided that 2 days pre-term was "close enough". After being hooked to the monitor, we realized I was already in early labor, with contractions 3-4 minutes apart. My contractions continued in the night and they began my pitocin drip at 7am. Within an hour the contractions were coming every minute and half... we were well on our way.

Around 9am my blood pressure began to elevate and I was given a magnesium sulfate drip to prevent seizures. What they failed to mention prior to administering the drug was that this could potentially suppress little T's respiratory system and create breathing issues at birth.

Baby T arrived around 3 in the afternoon with a NICU team in place. He was handed over, quickly weighed and then wheeled away with a balloon apparatus (I'm sure there is a medical term for this, I don't know it) covering his nose and mouth. I wasn't scared. I wasn't happy. I wasn't sad. I just didn't know what I was.

At the end of our hospital journey, I stayed 14 nights and T stayed 9. I was discharged 7 days before he would come home. It was incredibly hard to leave my baby at the hospital and those 7 nights were the longest of my life thus far. As it turned out, he was what they considered a "late preemie" and what was assumed to be respiratory suppression from the IV drugs during delivery was actually respiratory distress syndrome. He needed another week or two to finish baking, but we rushed him out based on a risk level that was assessed by technological advances in medicine. Low platelets and a slightly out of whack kidney enzyme put me at risk for pre-eclampsia and HELLP syndrome.

But the question remains, would I have developed it? In hindsight, was the risk to my health great enough to warrant the decision to induce pre-term? I'm not so sure it was.

But God had a plan.

It amazes me how he used that time in the hospital and the time following T's birth to shape and mold my character. Prior to the arrival of my first child, I had never really loved. That is, loved the way Christ had intended when He said "Love one another. Just as I have loved YOU". Someone once said that the definition of true, Godly love is being able to truthfully say, "I want what's best for you, no matter what it costs me". Had I ever selflessly done that prior to having children? I'm not sure I ever had.

He also taught me about faith and learning to rely on Him and His plan. Was the wrong decision made that June day last year to induce? Probably. But was God able to use that decision for His good? Absolutely. Thankfully.

What a difference a year has made. And what a blessing these little ones truly are.

Happy Birthday to my beautiful baby T.