A quick look back-from Mom

You know how most moms get to look back on their labor and delivery with emotions about all the things that went well or that didn't? Well, even though I had a doozy of a labor and delivery, most of those memories are kind of muddied with things that happened shortly thereafter. When Oakley was born, his cord was too short for him to be placed on my stomach for me to see/touch him. He didn't breath right away, but he arched his back and wailed his arms like he was drowning. The NICU team was called in immediately, and they ended up doing chest compressions and intubating him. All of this happened within 5 minutes of birth.
They carted him away to put in lines through his umbilical cord stump, and let me get a quick glance at him before they left. I didn't know what to think-he certainly wasn't the big fat baby that Trevor and I had expected. The placenta had been delivered and my OB, Dr. Archibald, was showing me all of the calcifications or infarctions that it had. He thought this might explain why Oakley was so tiny (4lbs4oz and 18 3/4 inches long). Trevor followed the NICU team and watched them work on Oakley for a bit, then left because they needed to do his lines in a sterile environment and Trevor needed a well deserved break.
I then had all of the excited family members coming into the room to congratulate me (they were all pretty disappointed and scared. They were so excited to meet their Grandson, nephew, whatever relation; and were given the awkward task of congratulating and empty-armed new mom). At this point, I was filled with a lot of weird emotions. I was so ecstatic to not be pregnant anymore-the biggest relief was delivering that placenta, which felt like removing a poisoned cloak- and yet I felt this disappointment for not being able to bond with my baby at all. I hadn't been able to touch him yet, let alone get those first few moments of nursing him and comforting him from his traumatic entrance. I also felt guilt. Not being able to comfort him or nurse him immediately because he was undernourished, I was supposed to be taking good care of him while he was trying so desparately to grow, but I had failed miserably. How could something be going so terribly wrong inside of me, and yet I was oblivious?
There was a barrage of questions, "What pain medications did you take at the beginning of your pregnancy?" "Do you have any kind of family history that could be adding to this?" "Did you ever get sick while you were pregnant, the flu? A cold? High fever?" They drew my blood to check for bacteria, viral infection, disease. Then they ask me how I'm feeling. "Do you need something for the pain? Can I get you anything? Can I help you to the restroom?" Everybody's asking me all these questions, but can't explain what's wrong with my baby.
I eventually get to go upstairs to the recovery floor (without a baby) and get put in my room. It's got all this great stuff for the baby, the nurses try to be really nice, but everyone keeps asking questions. "Have you eaten anything? Can I get you some more ice water? How are you feeling? What's your pain at on a scale from 1-10? Do you plan on breastfeeding? Who have you chosen for the baby's pediatrician? Can I take your vitals? Did you know that he was going to be sick or was it a surprise? Upload pics of baby?" Pictures of the baby? Oh no! We didn't take any pictures of him in the delivery room. But do I really want to remember how he looked in the delivery room? Probably not, but now I don't have the option to show him someday how far he's come.

Once we were all checked in, we went down to see Oakley in the NICU. We scrubbed in, where we had to wash up to our elbows and scrub for 2 minutes (which while actively scrubbing, seems like forever) to go back and see our baby. He was in a corner room, in an elevated plexiglass bassinette with porthole doors on each side and a top cover that was able to be lifted off. He was so isolated, so small, and looked like a concentration camper. He was still intubated, and his little chest was inflating and deflating so fast, it looked like he was having a panic attack. I looked at the nurse and asked, "What's wrong with him?" She kind of hesitated, then started, "Well he had a little trouble breathing on his own and-" "No, not the breathing tube, I mean the rest of him. Why is he so small, what's wrong with him?" Then Dr. VanLooey came in and saved her from having to answer. He told us that they were running a ton of tests to find out was caused everything. He called it IUGR, which stands for Intra-Uteran Growth Retardation, and also said something about his blood sugar levels. He had wires hanging off of his body that told them his heart rate, how he was breathing, that oxygenated blood was getting to his extremeties. He had tubes coming out of his belly button that looked like a bow and trailed off to more tubes, those were his UAC and UVC (umbilical artery and vein catheters). Trevor and I went back to looking at our son. I scanned his facial features to see if the wine I'd had before finding out I was carrying him had given him fetal alcohol syndrome, no. I looked at his feet, they seemed massive in comparison to the rest of his tiny body. He was crossing his big toe over the second toe and it amazed me, I held one foot, and it was longer than my middle finger. he had an identity band tethered to his foot. His name was Baby Boy Samanatha Wallace-they didn't know his name yet! His hands were so cute, they had long graceful fingers-didn't get those from me-with perfect little fingernails. His head was so weird though. Like a hot air balloon, the conical, slender part was his chin, and then it just opened up to a big dome of a head. He had head sparing. So when he wasn't getting nutrients in utero, at least his head was getting what it needed. I started to cry. It was all so much to take in and try to process. I'm sure you're feeling like that too if you've gotten this far. So I will leave it off right there. I've added the earliest pictures I have of Oakley. They are from the morning after he was born, no tubes in his nose!