Today is a very special day because seven years ago today, I gave birth to my second son. Kaden Elijah. Every year on this day, I'm very thankful to be alive, because things went horribly wrong in that hospital room for me. I thought I would recount that day, because finally after seven years, I see it differently.
I went into the hospital the night before to be induced. They started me off with some Cervidil. Which I won't go into details about because I hope someday my son reads this, and I don't want him gagging. They also put me on Pitocin. Which if you have ever had it, you know, it's not your friend. Anyways I was waiting all day for something to happen, and then it finally did. The epidural that they placed, quit working. (side note, the epidural also quit while giving birth to Arilyn, but without much Pitocin, I handled it fairly well.) With Kaden, the Pitocin made the pain, that I could all of a sudden feel, intense. I can honestly look back and say that I have never felt as much pain in my life, as I did that day. I remember crying and telling my mama, who was in the room, "I can't do this."(Kaden still says that to this day. If he's trying to do something, he will start crying and say "I can't do this." Creeps me out a little every time.) I remember wanting to just die. And then I almost did.
Some of the next details are a little blurry. I was crying and telling my mom that he was coming. Then I remember the doctor running in and yelling that we had to get the baby out, NOW! My mom told me later what happened. She said while I pushed, the doctor pulled the baby out. Her exact words were "the doctor ripped him from your body."
I vaguely remember them setting Kaden on my stomach, then he was rushed away. I remember feeling tired, but scared to go to sleep. Like I needed to hang on to consciousness. But also that I wanted to just close my eyes for a minute. I closed my eyes and laid my head back. Nurses started running into my room and standing on all sides of me. I know they were touching me, but I don't know what they were doing. And I remember hearing a nurse say "she's fading." Those two little words are the scariest words I've ever heard in my life. I tried to open my eyes, tried to say I'm still awake. (As a nurse, even as a person, I still think it's incredibly rude to say that in front of a patient.) I felt a needle go into my thigh. I remember thinking that Tahcowa was still at school, and if I was going to die, I didn't want him just sitting there at the school waiting for someone to pick him up, only to find out his mama died. I didn't want that to be his memory. I told someone to get Tahcowa from school. I don't know who I said it to.
I don't remember anything after that, as far as the events in a timeline. I remember later finding out that I hemorrhaged. I lost a lot of blood, and they were talking about a transfusion. They ultimately decided to let me make the blood on my own. Everyone kept telling me over the next few weeks how white I was. I could see my veins through my skin. But I recovered. And I finally got to see my baby. My mama said later that she just knew I was going to die. I can't imagine being in that seat and thinking my baby was going to die. I recovered fine. Everything turned out okay.
Until the very next morning at about 6am. My mama had stopped by to see us and make sure we were still okay. Her phone rang. It was my stepdad. She answered the phone and I remember seeing her facial expression change. She was crying. She said "no, no, no, no. Oh no." I was panicked waiting for her to get off the phone and tell me what was going on. My brother in law, Caleb, had died. My sister's world was just changed forever, but that's her story.
I remember everyone leaving and going to North Carolina. That's where my sister lived at the time. I wasn't allowed to go because they wouldn't discharge me from the hospital. I remember calling her, and apologizing, and she barely responded. I would feel guilty over this event for the next few years. Because in some twisted way, I felt like God was supposed to take me. That if I would have died, they would be on their way to Ohio, and Caleb would have lived. Now, this day, every year, is shadowed by a tragic accident.
It took me until this year to see things differently. Every year on this day, I am thankful that I'm alive. That I've gotten to see Kaden grow into the adorable, intelligent boy that he is. But today I am also very thankful that God spared me from hell. That's where I was going. I didn't know Him, I wasn't living right, at all. I was having a baby out of wedlock. And I didn't repent for it at the time. I wasn't sorry. I didn't know well enough to even really be sorry. God saved me anyway. He is saving me from myself every day. He gave me a second chance. I never saw it for what it was back then. After enduring the ICU with my dad, I now look back, and I'm so incredibly thankful that I know Him. And that he has a plan for me. Because He's blessed me so much these past seven years. My favorite view has always been my front porch looking in. Now, it's looking up.
Happy 7th Birthday Kaden Elijah. I'm so blessed to see you grow. You will always be my little boy with the big casper eyes. I love you more than all the stars in the sky.
I went into the hospital the night before to be induced. They started me off with some Cervidil. Which I won't go into details about because I hope someday my son reads this, and I don't want him gagging. They also put me on Pitocin. Which if you have ever had it, you know, it's not your friend. Anyways I was waiting all day for something to happen, and then it finally did. The epidural that they placed, quit working. (side note, the epidural also quit while giving birth to Arilyn, but without much Pitocin, I handled it fairly well.) With Kaden, the Pitocin made the pain, that I could all of a sudden feel, intense. I can honestly look back and say that I have never felt as much pain in my life, as I did that day. I remember crying and telling my mama, who was in the room, "I can't do this."(Kaden still says that to this day. If he's trying to do something, he will start crying and say "I can't do this." Creeps me out a little every time.) I remember wanting to just die. And then I almost did.
Some of the next details are a little blurry. I was crying and telling my mom that he was coming. Then I remember the doctor running in and yelling that we had to get the baby out, NOW! My mom told me later what happened. She said while I pushed, the doctor pulled the baby out. Her exact words were "the doctor ripped him from your body."
I vaguely remember them setting Kaden on my stomach, then he was rushed away. I remember feeling tired, but scared to go to sleep. Like I needed to hang on to consciousness. But also that I wanted to just close my eyes for a minute. I closed my eyes and laid my head back. Nurses started running into my room and standing on all sides of me. I know they were touching me, but I don't know what they were doing. And I remember hearing a nurse say "she's fading." Those two little words are the scariest words I've ever heard in my life. I tried to open my eyes, tried to say I'm still awake. (As a nurse, even as a person, I still think it's incredibly rude to say that in front of a patient.) I felt a needle go into my thigh. I remember thinking that Tahcowa was still at school, and if I was going to die, I didn't want him just sitting there at the school waiting for someone to pick him up, only to find out his mama died. I didn't want that to be his memory. I told someone to get Tahcowa from school. I don't know who I said it to.
I don't remember anything after that, as far as the events in a timeline. I remember later finding out that I hemorrhaged. I lost a lot of blood, and they were talking about a transfusion. They ultimately decided to let me make the blood on my own. Everyone kept telling me over the next few weeks how white I was. I could see my veins through my skin. But I recovered. And I finally got to see my baby. My mama said later that she just knew I was going to die. I can't imagine being in that seat and thinking my baby was going to die. I recovered fine. Everything turned out okay.
Until the very next morning at about 6am. My mama had stopped by to see us and make sure we were still okay. Her phone rang. It was my stepdad. She answered the phone and I remember seeing her facial expression change. She was crying. She said "no, no, no, no. Oh no." I was panicked waiting for her to get off the phone and tell me what was going on. My brother in law, Caleb, had died. My sister's world was just changed forever, but that's her story.
I remember everyone leaving and going to North Carolina. That's where my sister lived at the time. I wasn't allowed to go because they wouldn't discharge me from the hospital. I remember calling her, and apologizing, and she barely responded. I would feel guilty over this event for the next few years. Because in some twisted way, I felt like God was supposed to take me. That if I would have died, they would be on their way to Ohio, and Caleb would have lived. Now, this day, every year, is shadowed by a tragic accident.
It took me until this year to see things differently. Every year on this day, I am thankful that I'm alive. That I've gotten to see Kaden grow into the adorable, intelligent boy that he is. But today I am also very thankful that God spared me from hell. That's where I was going. I didn't know Him, I wasn't living right, at all. I was having a baby out of wedlock. And I didn't repent for it at the time. I wasn't sorry. I didn't know well enough to even really be sorry. God saved me anyway. He is saving me from myself every day. He gave me a second chance. I never saw it for what it was back then. After enduring the ICU with my dad, I now look back, and I'm so incredibly thankful that I know Him. And that he has a plan for me. Because He's blessed me so much these past seven years. My favorite view has always been my front porch looking in. Now, it's looking up.
Happy 7th Birthday Kaden Elijah. I'm so blessed to see you grow. You will always be my little boy with the big casper eyes. I love you more than all the stars in the sky.
Comments
Post a Comment