Teddy’s Birth Day: pt. 1

Edward (my husband) and I arrived at my 37 week appointment, where an NST (non-stress test) was prepared for me. I can fully admit that I was ginormous by this time, but feeling pretty great, all things considered. Just dealing with your typical swollen feet and my biggest struggle was scooting my way off the couch. I wasn’t worried in the slightest with our little guy’s health, as he was constantly moving around in there! 

Things were going fine with the NST, and Edward and I were just chatting, until Teddy gave me one big kick, which moved the monitor. The nurses adjusted the monitor, but were concerned with either having trouble finding his heart rate again, or the amount of time it took for his heart rate to come back up…I can’t remember. Edward and I both felt like this wasn’t a bid deal and it was just the fact that the monitored was moved. They didn’t want to take any chances, and sent us directly to the hospital for an extensive NST, just to be sure everything was fine. We reluctantly headed to the hospital around noon, and I didn’t know the next time we’d get to eat, so we pulled through a Wendy’s for a quick bite. For some reason, part of me thought, “This could be my last meal before meeting our boy…” But we were schedule for our c-section exactly one week later, and I didn’t see any reason why he’d come sooner. 

Some Backstory…

A little side note here about our scheduled c-section…this was the very last thing I wanted. In 2020, I had surgery called an open myomectomy to remove a very large uterine fibroid. The surgery was essentially a c-section, with the same incision and location. Edward and I knew we wanted a family, and in order to have one, I would need this surgery. Before having it, I was told I would almost certainly need to have c-sections for all my births in the future. That was pretty hard to hear because I really wanted to be able to experience the vaginal birth my body was created to accomplish. I didn’t totally believe that a c-section was my only option. When we were ready to start our family, I did as much research and spoke to as many resources as I could about the possibility of approaching birth as a VBAC. No one was on board, and I was encouraged that a c-section was the safest route. The thing was, I couldn’t find any data on vaginal births after the surgery I had. I just don’t think it’s been researched, so I couldn’t find hard evidence for myself. After feeling like I exhausted all my options, I had to just believe that a c-section really was the best way forward for both me and my baby. It was tough to let go of the birth I wanted to have, but the one thing I felt I could somewhat control was the timing of the operation. I was told they like to schedule c-sections at 37 weeks so that I likely wouldn’t go into labor prior, but knowing the benefits of waiting as long as possible, I pushed it to 38 weeks. I was happy to have at least made my wishes come true in this one way. 

Teddy’s birth day: pt. 2

Back to my 37 week appointment…we arrived at the hospital ER, waited a while, and were taken back to a shared room where they hooked me up again. Hours went by as Edward and I listened to the very personal and interesting stories our neighbors around the curtain were sharing, and Teddy was looking great. No issues, just as Edward and I had thought! A tech came in to do an ultrasound, and we were finally seen by the doc on call around 5pm. While our baby was fine, they were very concerned about my high levels of amniotic fluid. The first concern was risk of uterine rupture due to the amount of pressure on my scar from my previous surgery. The other concern was risk of cord prolapse. Both of these would be detrimental to either myself or our son, or both of us. They wanted us to have the c-section that night…right then and there!

Feeling fairly knowledgeable and empowered, I knew the actual risk of both of these was very low. I felt great, but no one can know for certain that nothing would happen in that last week. I know Edward was quite impacted by the doctor’s suggestion, feeling like we shouldn’t leave room for any risk. I wanted to discuss with my actual OB, but the office had just closed. They left Edward and I to think through the decision, which felt like we were being torn with this moral dilemma! Part of me didn’t want to hand over my autonomy to the doctors or any fear tactics that may or may not have actually been present (I truly think the doc was presenting information that she thought was best). But a greater part of me wanted to know without a doubt that I didn’t put my son at risk by waiting even just a couple more days. Going back and forth for about an hour between the pros and cons, and shedding a few tears, we decided to go ahead and agree to birth our baby that evening. 

The decision

A big struggle that I was facing in this decision was the way I wanted our c-section performed. I had done lots of research on a “gentle/family centered cesarean.” Twice I had confirmed with nurses at that hospital that this could be done, and I was discussing these options with my OB. Since we were moving up the birth a week early, the OB I had decided to go with early on in pregnancy and discussed my wishes with wasn’t going to be performing my c-section. I brought my print out of decisions and preferences and went over it with the doctor who would be operating on me. Almost everything on there regarding a gentle cesarean, she either didn’t know anything about (like vaginal seeding), or didn’t feel like she could accommodate. Another huge let down. 

Immediately after informing them of our decision to move forward, I was getting hooked up and whisked away into the operating room while Edward quickly chowed down on a Chick-fil-A sandwich that my parents had brought. It was a strange feeling getting prepped for surgery…I could feel the spinal tap working immediately, going numb from the waist down. I also pretty immediately felt nauseous, faint, and incredibly clammy. Listening to everyone in the room going over the details of what was about to happen, I realized none of my decisions were shared with the entire team. The peds team didn’t know that I wanted to opt out of the vitamin K shot and eye ointment for my son…which I clarified while lying bare on the table. They pushed back on the vitamin K, but I assured them that I was equipped with drops instead. (More on this later)

This did not give me confidence in the slightest. But I felt pretty helpless by now. I was already dosed up and Edward had come to join me. Surgery began, and there was a huge gush and splash. Amniotic fluid flooded the ground! I remember seeing someone wiping a towel on the ground. I later found out I had about twice the average amount of fluid, which gave reason for my very large size at the end of pregnancy. The operation was awful. I knew to prepare for pressure and some tugging, but this was nothing like I thought it would be. It felt as though the wind was being knocked out of me over and over, and the pressure was unlike anything I was ready for. Sweet Edward was so encouraging, but it was so hard to focus on anything but getting through the next 15 minutes. 

Teddy’s first moments earth side

Even when they finally held up our perfect baby boy, I could hardly take in the moment that my son had just been born. There was no immediate skin to skin, which was one of my requests, and I’m not sure that they had any reason to rush him to the warmer that they were aware of…maybe I’m wrong since I was so distracted by the intensity of the surgery. Edward went over to take a look at our boy while they were checking him out, and stood behind a nurse when she began to panic. We think she assumed Edward was the doctor, as she turned around exclaiming “I can’t get the tube down his throat!” Of course, she turned back around after realizing it was the baby’s father behind her…and it was at this point that Edward knew something serious was wrong. I believe this is when Edward walked out of the OR without saying a word to me. I remember watching him, not thinking much of it because I knew he didn’t do well with blood or anything medical really, so I figured he just needed a minute to collect himself. I continued telling myself I was almost through the surgery, and was so relieved when Edward came back to me, held my hand and tried his best to support me. By this time, I had started shaking uncontrollably, which I didn’t know to expect! I was told that was normal and that it would subside on its own over time, but it was the weirdest feeling. We had told ourselves we’d be honest with each other if Teddy was just not a cute baby, but Edward told me when he came back, “Hun, he’s such a cute baby!” He didn’t lead me onto anything being wrong with him, which I’m so thankful for. 

Something was off…

At one point after Teddy was born, I heard a doctor in the room ask, “And why did we decide to do this at 37weeks?” This kind of infuriates me to this day, confirming that no doctor was on the same page in that OR! It seemed like none of the details of our situation were shared with any other team that was there. As they were finishing up with me, they told me they’d be taking Teddy to the NICU for a little extra help. They rolled him past me, held him up one more time for me to see him, and Edward accompanied them to the NICU. I remember the surgeon asking me if I understood what was going on. I think I said yes, but I definitely didn’t grasp that something was seriously wrong. I figured he needed a little extra respiratory help, which is why I wanted to wait as long as possible for him to be born to give his lungs time to develop. 

I laid there, alone, while they finished up. I do remember one nurse being extra sweet, and also appreciating the anesthesiologist who helped give me insight into what was going on when I was feeling a certain pain or pressure. They lifted me up and over onto the recovery bed, and rolled me back to a room where my family was waiting. I remember being so thankful it was over, but I was still shaking as if I was freezing cold! 

waiting, waiting, waiting

There’s not too much I remember in these next few hours. We were just waiting around for news on my boy and I was somewhat out of it. I remember chatting with my family, but for some reason I wasn’t overly stressed about why my baby hadn’t been brought back to me yet. One of my biggest desires was to be able to breastfeed right away, which obviously didn’t happen. But I was sure to start pumping so my boy could at least be given colostrum as soon as possible. I had hardly seen Edward in this waiting phase, too, but I knew he was keeping our boy company and I didn’t want him to be anywhere else. 

Finally, after about 5 hours post-op, a peds doctor entered the room and asked for everyone to leave so he could just speak to Edward and I. This is where my heart began to sink. The first word out of his mouth was, “Congratulations!” For Edward, just hearing that one word was so relieving! He truly thought Teddy might not make it…he was carrying around this weight all to himself for the past 5 hours. I feel so heartbroken for him knowing that’s what was going through his mind this whole time. 

the unforeseen complication

We were told that of all the birth defects he could have, that this was one of the most “fixable.” Teddy had an esophageal atresia and a tracheoesophageal fistula. His esophagus essentially came to a dead end, and didn’t connect to his stomach. Instead, there were other connections from his esophagus to his trachea. He said Teddy would need surgery, so they were going to transfer him to Nicklaus Children’s Hospital in Miami right then and there. I started crying the second I heard he would need surgery, and of course the realities of that were all starting to hit me one by one…I wouldn’t get to hold my boy, or even see him, until I was released from the hospital…we wouldn’t get to take him home for who knows how long…no one would get to come visit us in those newborn days to meet him…and so on. Over the next few minutes, Edward and I cried together, feeling completely blindsided by this outcome. It was nothing we ever would have expected to happen. 

They brought Teddy into our room for one last glimpse before life flighting him, and I got my first chance to touch his little body. He was already hooked up and intubated, so I could only really touch his hand. 

Around 1am, Edward escorted them down to the helicopter to see him off, when the pilot said to him, “We’re up in 2 minutes, you coming?” Edward had previously asked hospital staff multiple times if there was any chance he’d be able to fly with Teddy and he was told no, so he jumped on when the opportunity came! We didn’t know that was the last time we’d be seeing each other for two days, either. But again, he was already showing the dedicated father he is in those first few hours, never leaving Teddy’s side. He even made sure my colostrum was packed up and transported, knowing how important that was to me. 

postpartum hospital stay, without my baby and husband

My angel of a mother ended up staying those next 2 nights with me in the hospital. By nothing other than the grace of God, immediate recovery honestly wasn’t so bad. Overall, getting up and walking around felt fine…a breeze compared to recovery from my surgery in 2020. Those 36 hours of being there were filled with pumping, walking around, resting, and FaceTiming with Edward and Teddy countless times to get a good look at my boy and hear what the doctors had to say. We hadn’t yet decided Teddy’s name. We were going between two names, and planned on choosing once we got to meet him. Since that didn’t exactly happen, we weren’t sure which name felt more fitting. Finally, when it was time for me to be discharged, they pushed for a name for his birth certificate. I can confidently say now that we went with the right name! Teddy’s middle name, Braddock, means broad oak, and oak trees, to me, are things of great strength, which Teddy certainly has!

The nurses helped get me discharged as quickly as possible so my mom and I could get on the road down to Miami to meet my son. It couldn’t come fast enough! I remember sitting outside of the hospital while my mom brought the car around, thinking how differently I imagined this moment. I never thought I’d leave the hospital without my husband or my baby in my arms. It ended up being 6 days after Teddy’s birth that we got to hold him for the first time. 

an unexpected postpartum experience

There’s a whole lot I could say about the next 2 months. Nicklaus Children’s Hospital became our home, and the NICU staff our family. My postpartum dreams of lying in bed, nursing and cuddling our sweet boy, munching on healthy snacks and reading were completely thrown out the window. Instead, I slept on a not-so-comfy couch in Teddy’s hospital room (which was such a blessing to be able to stay in the same room as our son), ate whatever was convenient and close by, and was pushed around in a wheelchair for the first week when we had to go long distances across the hospital. 

However, there was so much to be thankful for in the midst of this really sucky situation. We experienced unmatched support from the Church, friends, family, and even strangers. Support came in various forms, like finances toward food, visits from friends, free places to stay and not feel pressured to show up any way, and most importantly prayer. A time that could have pulled us away from God actually drew us closer. We were so utterly helpless, we had no option but to give it all up to God to hold our son in His hands when we couldn’t. We were thankful for encouraging, knowledgeable doctors and nurses that never made us feel less than, but actually encouraged us to lean into our parental intuition and ask questions. We were thankful for being in a beautiful location with lush nature and stunning buildings all around us. We went for countless walks and drives. We were thankful for delicious (but not so nourishing for a postpartum body) food and coffee. We were thankful for the friendly staff at the cafe on the first floor of the hospital who got to know us over time. We were thankful for the sweet greeter and kind security guards who always welcomed us back every day, asking for updates on our son. We truly feel at home when we go back for follow ups now, and are humbled knowing that’s not always the case for many families. 

Teddy and I’s breastfeeding journey is a whole other topic that I’m just so thankful for. Breastfeeding was something I was so excited for, and we didn’t get to give it a go until 11 or 12 days after he was born. There was an extended period of time that he couldn’t eat anything, but finally after his surgery when he could, he was given a bottle of special formula to start. I was so nervous he was used to the bottle and would struggle with nursing, but by a true miracle, he latched immediately and never struggled at the breast! Even with another complication down the road where he had to stop eating once again, then be reintroduced with a bottle. After weeks of this, he nursed again with no problems! Truly a miracle, and such a gift from God that I treasure so much. He’s still going strong at over a year old, and doesn’t look like he’ll be stopping any time soon! I really think God had blessed me with a pretty easy recovery and breastfeeding journey, considering the circumstances. I feel like He told me, “Nothing else will be as you hoped, but this part will come easy.”

final thoughts

I always wonder how things would be different had we not been sent to the hospital that day and just waited another week until our scheduled date. Of course, Teddy still would have been born with a defect and needed all the same care. But what would Edward and I have made sure to do in that last week, just the two of us? How else could I have prepared myself in that last week? While I’m confident it’s likely that those risks never would have occurred, no one can know for certain. 

I had done all the research throughout pregnancy and knew that I wanted as natural of a birth as possible, even with a c-section, and it was anything but that. Of course, I am so thankful for modern medicine and the ability to literally reconnect my son’s esophagus. He wouldn’t have survived if that wasn’t possible. And so many stories don’t end as happily as ours. I realize just how blessed we are…things could have been so much worse. I get to hold my boy now all I want, and hear him cry when there was a time he couldn’t let his little cries out being intubated. 

Our story is not just one of disappointment, helplessness, and grief, but also one of constant hope and trust. It brought my husband and I closer than ever, and I feel a special bond with my son after everything he went through. I can appreciate the tiniest of moments with him so much more. The experience also solidified something we ready knew to be true, God’s constant presence and hand in our lives. He has never, and will never, leave us. 

I can’t wait for the mighty things Teddy will do with his life.