Sunday September the 26th. The day two people I know almost died.
Well, one of them did die for a few seconds. But she’s fine now.
The other one?
He was born at just barely 32 weeks gestation. He was an emergency c-section due to complications including a placental abruption.
He was barely four pounds.
Here’s what I remember.
I was in the hospital in Guelph. Bad pains. They couldn’t (or hadn’t yet) figured out what was wrong. After all, I had previously given birth to four children naturally, who were all full term and perfectly healthy.
I woke up at one point to find myself in a different room, my husband in tears. They transferred me to Mac in Hamilton.
I spent a day there being treated for major blood clots, high blood pressure, major pain, premature labour pains, and a whole host of other problems.
I had nuclear testing, blood drawn from an artery, scans and ultrasounds, and more tests that I can’t even remember.
The night.
My husband had left. It was late. My nurse (a guy, though I don’t remember his name) had checked on me and I was trying to sleep.
Because I was in the high risk ICU I had my own personal nurse. I called out to him sometime after eleven, because I felt something very wrong. Immediately I was surrounded by staff. I don’t even know what they were doing. I do know that the heart monitors I was hooked up to, one was going crazy, and the other was barely making a sound.
They said emergency c-section. I was raced down hallways and up elevators. I was wheeled into a room. I went to sleep.
I didn’t see my new son for almost two days.
When I did, he was so tiny, so hooked up to wires and tubes and in that little incubator in the NICU where the room was overwhelmingly warm that I couldn’t stay for more than ten minutes.
A week later they transferred him to Guelph and discharged me.
Two weeks later he came home.
His whole first year was spent in and out of hospitals with chest infections and breathing problems. He was on a home-respirator type thing for months. It took nearly a year for him to catch up in size to other kids.
Now my little boy is nine years old. Almost a decade. I can’t believe that this tall, fast, strong child is the one that once fit in one hand.
A very happy birthday to Shawn Michael Reilly. I’m so very glad you’re here.
Side note:
This is the reason I won’t ever make mother of the year. I am doing the 5K for Parkinson’s this weekend. I thought it was on Saturday so I planned my kid a “rock star” themed birthday party.
The race is Sunday. On his birthday. Thank goodness I have a wicked awesome teenage daughter who will run the party in my stead.
Oh, and since Shawn knows I’m writing about him on my blog today for his birthday, he says, no need for aww’s and thanks…just send cash. LOL. Nine, already, he’d rather just have the cash. Sigh.
I love this one. Nine. I can hardly believe it either.
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AHHEM!
If I remember correctly, I was the one who planned the hole party, and even came up with the rock-star theme! Loll
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Well, you’re awesome. Except you can’t spell “whole”. Loser. ‘Sup.
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I also remember a teenage daughter who loved to to plan and organized birthday parties for her younger sibs. From baking the cake (themed of course) to the games. A great time was had by all.
I wounder who that was?
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