Our baby’s birthday 2011-02-01

I should say that we didn’t exactly make it to the hospital in short order on Tuesday morning. Of course I had to pack some things, just in case they wanted to keep me overnight. And I needed to make the beds. And have a muffin and a glass of milk. (Did you know you’re not supposed to eat *anything* before surgery?! More denial from me.) And do two loads of laundry. And make a small grocery list. And email some people. I even remembered to cancel my hair appointment.

When we got to the hospital, I was still thinking this was no big deal, just important to get checked out and all. But it turned out that my membranes had ruptured and I would not be going home until I delivered my baby. There was some very brief discussion of admitting me to the ante-partum unit for complete bed rest to see if we could keep baby cooking in there even with the slow leak of amniotic fluid. It was decided that the risk of infection from having my membranes ruptured and the risk of imminent labour were too great in my case. Our baby would be born that day.

I asked if they would page my OB and the Perinatology Fellow to let them know, even though neither was on call. Within the hour, Dr. Stephanie Cooper and Dr. Kirsten Grabowski arrived and said they were scrubbing in to do my delivery. These two incredible physicians had offered me their knowledge and care through the latter part of this difficult pregnancy and now they wanted to be part of Samuel’s birth. I was very touched and grateful for this extra special care. Then the Anaesthesiologist, Dr. Michael Chong, came in; he was the Anaesthesiology Resident at Daniel’s birth 8 and a half years ago. He had given me such a caring experience when everything else was scary and everyone else in the room more or less ignored me; we had not forgotten his kindness and it felt like a good omen that he was here with us today.

The Neonatologist came to consult about Samuel’s immediate care; we couldn’t pronounce his surname and he became “Dr. Carlos” to us. He compassionately spoke to us about the likelihood that Samuel could die in the Delivery Room – that he would not live long enough to be resuscitated in the NICU. Despite preparing for this possibility for months, my heart broke all over again. In between procedures and forms to be filled out, nurses held my hand while I wept. I joked about my rapid cycling between calm and hysteria and they assured me, "Emotional swings is just what we do here in Labour and Delivery; bring it on!"

Chris went to call my parents so they could get the boys from school and bring them to the hospital. Dr. Carlos had described how Samuel would be put in our arms right away if he could not be resuscitated so that we could cuddle him and he would know our love as he passed. If his life beyond my body was to be so short, I wanted to make sure that his grandparents and brothers could meet him. My dear friend Lori came too. My loving team was assembled.

Once in the operating room, I could see through the observation window to my mom’s worried face and Lori standing behind her in fervent prayer. My dad was in the waiting room with our three big boys. Chris was next to me and I locked onto his eyes as our baby's delivery began. The doctors kept me posted on what was happening. A nurse stood on a chair behind Chris to take pictures of Samuel the minute he was born. (Those pictures are the only ones I have of him before his face was full of tape and tubes... I am so grateful.)

Part way through the c-section, the Neonatology team came in. Good grief, how many people were there?! The room was buzzing. And then Samuel was being born and they dropped the drape and Michael pushed my shoulders up so I could see. My baby boy was in front of me being pulled from my body. The waves of emotion were like nothing I had ever experienced before – love, fear, anguish, love, longing, fierce protectiveness, love. I heard a primal, desperate cry for him and knew it was coming from me.

It was 3:20 p.m. on Tuesday, February 1, 2011 when our fourth son was born. We were just shy of 37 weeks gestation. He was 6 and a half pounds with lots of thick black hair. He was beautiful and perfect. He tried to cry out but he couldn’t breathe.

He was swept away from us and Chris went over to the bed to watch as they assessed him. His heart was beating. There was life. They put a tube down into his lung so they could help him breathe and another tube into his stomach to suck out any air that might inflate his digestive organs and put pressure on his heart and lung. I heard they had some difficulty with this but I had no sense of time. When they took him to NICU, Chris went too and Lori followed to take pictures and support Chris. It was remarkably quiet in the Delivery Room now. I could see my mom still with me through the observation window. My Gramma’s words, “his heart is strong” played in my mind. I prayed, “God, my baby is sick. Be with Samuel. Give him peaceful journey.” Then I quietly sang the lullaby that I sing to my boys and it gave me comfort.

I willed the freezing from my body and bounced back quickly so that I could get to my baby. He was alive and waiting for me, having an x-ray and an echocardiogram and a variety of tests to determine how his little body was functioning. When I could finally go to him, the nurses had me walk the few steps to my wheelchair to prove that I was okay to be up. Samuel was less than 3 hours old when his mama first got to touch him. I did not see the wires or the tubes or hear the machines – which surprised me the next day when all that intervention seemed startlingly obvious. It was my beautiful baby laying there, breathing and pink. He had a sweet little nose and long fingers and perfect little feet just like we’d seen time and again on the ultrasound images.

Nana and Boppa came back from taking the boys for pizza supper. Daniel and Zachary each got a few minutes to come into the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit - scrubbed up to their elbows and suitably quiet - to meet their new brother. Jakey had a cough so he couldn’t come in but Zachary made sure to tell him that Samuel was little and cute. They were delighted with him well beyond what I expected. Like Chris and I, they did not seem to notice his tubes and machines. (They were more freaked out by their mommy’s IV pole and wheelchair and loopy morphine-eyes.) Nana and Boppa came in as well and amazing Lori was there taking photos and holding our new family in love.

Our beautiful, brave, light-filled Samuel Meir was here.



Samuel's perfect little foot in my hand



Zachary meets Samuel



Daniel meets Samuel