The Skink Turns Four!

It's hard for me to believe, really. Can it possibly have been 4 years ago today that my Skink made a very early appearance into the world, weighing 2 lbs 7 oz??

My blood pressure was high before I became pregnant, so in an attempt to control my blood pressure, I was taken off birth control. No biggie, really - I had always had fertility issues, so we weren't worried. We were also in for the surprise of our lives!

Pregnant? How can I be pregnant?

Needless to say, pregnancy did not HELP my blood pressure.I was been in bed for weeks, but my blood pressure just kept going up. Then one day I went in for a weekly non-stress test, and I wasn't allowed to leave! More days passed by and the blood pressure monitor grew less and less happy. Then on Sunday, August 6th at around 1-something in the afternoon, the doctor informed me that it was time!

It was 10 weeks too early, but it was time.

I summoned my husband to the hospital and I was put on a magnesium drip (so not a fun experience!) and I was given an epidural... and my blood pressure did not go down.

The magnesium was taking effect by the time I was wheeled to the OR - I was sea-sick and the walls were breathing. My memories are very cloudy. I vaguely remember the anesthesiologist telling me to put my arm down. Huh?? What arm? Apparently the magnesium coursing through my veins caused my arm to develop a life of its own and fly off into nowhere...

And then a very small cry and silence...

I barely caught a glimpse of an isolette with a very small baby in it being rolled past me... but the baby was PINK! Pink is GOOD!

Then fog. I remember being in the recovery room adjacent to the OR, but someone said I could not be moved far. I was wheeled about 15 feet to the nearest room in the Labor and Delivery unit, just across the hall from the recovery room.

Fog again.

The next day (I think) I was brought a picture of my daughter. I begged to see her, but I could not be moved and she could not be moved. Everything was foggy. I was very ill and I remember very little.

On Tuesday I had been stabilized enough to be moved, but I was not yet allowed to sit up. I was taken on a gurney to the NICU for a very short visit. I tried to sit up a little to see my baby, but was pushed gently back down. I could see a hat and a small foot poking out from a blanket. I was told my baby was doing very well for being so small. Then I was wheeled to the postpartum unit.

I was taken for tests and CT scans. Apparently my doctor (who was in his 60's) had never seen blood pressure as high as mine was in the OR. They were amazed to find no sign of a stroke (Yay, me!). But it was a close one. The doctor admitted he thought he would lose me. But I was too stubborn to give up - that's just how I roll.

The following Friday I went home (against doctor's orders) but heck - I hadn't been home in weeks! After so much time in bed, I could barely walk. I became short of breath just walking down the hall in our house. I missed my baby. It felt weird going to visit her each day, but even more weird was saying "good-bye" at the end of each visit.

The first time I drove myself to the hospital for a visit, I was met by a doctor as soon as I came through the NICU doors. He took me to another room. He told me in a very heavy Indian accent that my baby's blood work had come back from the lab. My baby had Down syndrome. Trisomy 21.

He told me that this meant my baby would have mental retardation, but nobody could know yet how profoundly she would be affected. He told me my daughter would never be like the other kids. He told me that my daughter might never read. He told me it was very likely she would have heart problems, digestive problems, behavior problems. Problems.
Then he said, "I will leave you alone to cry." And he left the room.

Oh yes - I cried! I bawled my eyes out. So many things went through my head. Would I be able to love this baby the way I loved my other children? Would the world be cruel to my baby? Would I ever be able to go on a vacation alone with my husband? Would my husband accept this child? Would I be tied to this child for the rest of my life??

I left the room and I held my baby. I held her and cried. I hurt so terribly on the inside. This wasn't the baby I thought she was. I felt suddenly like this baby was an impostor. Oh, but she was a cute, pink little impostor...

On the way home, I called my husband to break the news. I dreaded his reaction, but he did not react the way I was worried he would. I thought I would be the one having to tell him that everything would be alright... just words, but words that set a positive tone in a dubious situation... but there he was on the other end of the line, telling me that everything would be fine! He was helping me deal with my emotions - - and he didn't seem all that upset about the news at all.

I had a rough night, but by morning I knew one thing for certain... I already loved this baby. I did not know anybody with Down syndrome while I was growing up... I had a friend whose brother was "mentally retarded,* but I had never really met him. I used to wonder how a parent could love a child "like that."  I used to wonder if they wished their child looked or acted more "normal."

By morning many of those thoughts were already fading. I started researching. I started finding that the doctor who broke the news to me did not tell me everything I needed to know. In fact, the more I read on line, the more I realized that the doctor was a moron! How dare he say such negative things about my baby? When my other two children were born, nobody came to me with a list of all the things that could possibly go WRONG with them... so why did they feel the need to do that with THIS precious child? It was like I had been told, "Well, just forget what it feels like to be happy. You're screwed now! This kid is a mess, so don't even bother!"

I was incensed! I went to the NICU that day and I LOVED my baby. I held her and sang to her and rocked her and LOVED her.

Because she was premature, she did have some heart issues, but I am happy to say her heart corrected itself completely. She has been a very healthy, happy kid over the last 4 years. Sure - we had a little hospital adventure a few weeks ago, but since getting out of the NICU, this was her first major issue!

And as for that moron doctor? If I ever find out his email address, you can bet I'm going to send him the video of my little Skink READING... at the age of 3 years and 2 months! Take that!

And problems?? What are these problems you speak of? The Skink is many things, but she has never, ever, ever been a "problem!"

Most of the above NICU pictures appear in our book, The Littlest Sister.