My nine(ish) months of pregnancy of our first born went
well. I only had very mild symptoms and I absolutely loved being pregnant. I
will never forget the first time I felt the baby move. We were on the road in
Heber as we were spending the weekend at our family cabin. I was about 17 weeks
pregnant, and all of a sudden it felt like something did a summersault inside
my tummy. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. Another moment I will
never forget was when we were in our gender ultrasound and we found out it was
a boy. Seeing the pride and excitement on my husband’s face was priceless. We hadn’t
settled on a name yet, but in the car on the way home from the ultrasound Dan
looked right at me and said “I’ve got it. His name should be “M.J.” …. I felt the same way; it was
perfect. It was like we just “met” him and we knew he was meant to be an M.J. {his true name is omitted in order
to practice internet safety for our children}
Months went on, and I felt great. I even managed (somehow)
to only gain very minimal weight. We went in for a routine ultrasound around 32
weeks and they found the cord wrapped around M.J.’s neck. It is not uncommon,
but this far into a pregnancy babies do not have much room to move and
maneuver, so there was concern that he could tangle himself worse and put
himself under stress. I was scheduled for NST (Non Stress Tests) weekly to
monitor his heart and movements. Week 33
he was fine, week 34 he was fine.
I hit 35 weeks and I began to feel very tired, and very
sore. I knew he was moving so he was fine, and figured I was just getting to
the home stretch that everyone tells me is the “uncomfortable phase”. It was
the week before Christmas 2007 and I was in a Christmas musical production at
church on Sunday (12/23). Everyone warned me not to overdo it and relax, but me
being the Worship Leader’s assistant, and being so dedicated to the Lord’s work
I told them I would be fine and proceeded to enjoy myself being involved in the
program. Halfway through the program when the pastor was giving a short message
I began to feel extremely exhausted, I got flush, and I was in a lot of pain. I
remember going to the restroom and bending over in pain just praying out loud
“Lord, please don’t let me go into labor. Not yet… not now!”
That afternoon we went home and I was exhausted. I crashed
on the couch for probably over an hour. I woke up feeling amazing. He heard my
prayer! I felt refreshed, I had energy! I even had motivation to get up and
make cookies that evening.
I remember sleeping well that night, and even thinking
nothing of going into work. After all I was only 35 weeks. I must have just overdone
it during the weekend (I told myself). It was Monday, Christmas eve at work and
it was very quiet. I was very grateful because throughout the morning I
increasingly got more pain. I was grateful when the manager told everyone that
we could leave at noon since it was slow and the day before Christmas. I was
more than ready to go home. Sparing you any details, let’s just say I got
concerned and decided I needed to call the doctor as soon as I got home. I
called Dan on the way home and while I was in the car I explained to him how I
was feeling. I didn’t even make it 3 or 4 blocks from work when my water broke
in the car. I stopped Dan mid-sentence and told him to meet me at the hospital.
I got to the hospital about 12:30pm. My labor was quick, especially for a first
baby. I remember the nurse checked me at one point and told me that I had a few
more hours to go, that the doctor was going to another birth at a different
hospital before she came to deliver M.J. Within 45 minute after that I will
never forget the look on the nurse’s face when she realized that I was moments
away from delivering and she had to race to get the doctor to turn around and
come to my hospital first. What she predicted would take a few more hours (a
normal timeframe for a first baby) took almost less than an hour. He was ready and with M.J. being a premature
baby at 35 weeks they needed the doctor ASAP.
It seemed like it took forever for the doctor to get there,
although in reality it was probably only about 20-25 minutes. I remember her
racing in, and literally throwing on the gown and gloves while she was already
instructing the nurse what to do. Another moment I will never forget is when
the doctor got her first good glimpse of M.J.’s head. She got a look of fear in
her eyes yelled to STOP PUSHING and literally turned around for tools as if
life depended on it. Dan didn’t get to cut the cord, and M.J. never cried when
he came out. They wouldn’t tell us what was going on but I knew without hearing
him cry and the nurses whisked him over to the table, put oxygen on him and
just said “C’mon baby….C’mon baby”….then we heard a tiny whimper, and coughing.
He never did fully cry, but he was okay. What we learned later was that the cord
was around M.J.’s neck 3 times and cut off his oxygen supply when he was
delivered. The doctor cut (the cord) him free to save him, and the nurses
resuscitated him with the oxygen, etc.
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| A picture of MJ when he came home from NICU weighing 5 lbs 1 oz. |
