Bright Eyed Wonder

By Amy Beukema

Bright Eyed Wonder is the story of a mother's experiences during her micro-preemie's first year of life. From the whirlwind of her son Brayden's quick and unexpected birth, through trials, tears, and tribulations in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, his homecoming, family medical issues and finally celebrating Brayden's first birthday. Bright Eyed Wonder tells the story of this miracle baby's struggle and survival through the eyes and thoughts of his loving, helpless, and often distraught mother. A story of determination and perseverance as well as continued hope and optimism, Bright Eyed Wonder gives an inside glimpse of life in the NICU as experienced as only a preemie mom could.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 24, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491825044

Book preview

Contents

Mixed Emotions

Brayden’s Arrival

First Impressions

The First Week

The Saga Continues

Month Two

The Return to Work

The Next Two Weeks

Spring Break

Back to Work

The Best News Ever

And the Shit Hits the Fan

A Week Away

The Rest of the Summer

The New Unit

Nearing the End

Homecoming!!

Brayden’s First Holiday Season

The Birthday Bash

About The Author

Mixed Emotions

(August 2010)

A smile spread across my face as I watched the pink plus form on my pregnancy test. I couldn’t wait to tell Patrick, my husband, the wonderful news. We were expecting another child! As the incredible news sunk in, so did my trepidation and anxiety. Mixed emotions took over as the absolute joy quickly turned into panicked fear. Not your typical reaction to a wanted pregnancy. My thoughts bounced between the little baby growing inside of me and my last two pregnancies and deliveries.

James, my first child, was born on January 12, 2009, five weeks early following an uneventful pregnancy. By uneventful, I experienced the typical morning sickness during the first trimester and the fairly relaxed and easy second trimester. Shortly into the third trimester, I began to have frequent contractions, especially when exercising. My doctor said that this was typical and the contractions were just Braxton Hicks contractions, getting my body ready for labor and delivery. The week before James came into this world, I remember just not feeling right. There really wasn’t anything in particular wrong, just this nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. The feeling passed and I went on with work and my typical days, thinking everything was fine. On Thursday, I began having contractions regularly, but not on the consistent schedule that OB’s say indicates active labor. After four calls to my doctor’s office and repeatedly being told this was just false labor, I spent the rest of the day lying on the couch, trying to find a position to ease the contractions. They eventually stopped and I felt fine by Friday afternoon and absolutely full of energy on Saturday and Sunday.

Sunday afternoon I attended a friend’s baby shower and was pretty much in a good mood. James was still in my belly where he belonged, although he was hanging out a little lower than he had been. At the time, I thought this was a wonderful thing, since I could now actually take a normal sized breath, and the foot that had been stuck in my ribs was no longer there. That night at 11:20 P.M., I got out of bed to use the bathroom and my water broke. I called for Pat and asked him to call my parents as I called my doctor. After about 10-15 minutes, real contractions set in. By real, I mean frequent, excruciating, long contractions. The typical call your doctor and head to the hospital when contractions are getting stronger and about 5 minutes apart didn’t apply to me. When my contractions started, they lasted a full minute and were only one minute apart.

My parents began the drive to Delaware, as my mom was supposed to be one of my support people during delivery and they had a five-hour drive to get to the hospital. This is plenty of time for a first baby, right? Labor and delivery is typically much, much longer than a mere five hours. Pat grabbed the suitcase I had packed and helped me into the car. This was the longest 15 minutes to the hospital that I could ever imagine. Every single minute, I would be gripped by this unimaginable pain that took over my entire body and would last for a full minute. My contractions were so close together that there was no time to relax a little and get ready for the next contraction like you’re told to do in all of those pointless childbirth classes.

We arrived at the hospital and were taken right back to triage with no waiting, thank goodness! Upon examination, they determined that I was already 5 cm dilated. I can remember asking for an epidural and being told that we had to wait until I was in the labor and delivery room, and currently they were just waiting for a room to be available to move me. I’m not sure how long I waited for a room; it couldn’t have been that long, but it seemed like forever. Once I was in the labor and delivery room, I again asked for an epidural, only to be told that I had to wait until I received an IV bag of something since I wasn’t far enough along in my pregnancy to have a Strep B test completed, and they didn’t want to chance the baby getting it during delivery. As I struggled through the debilitating contractions, waiting for the painfully slow drip of the IV to empty the bag, people were in and out of the room. The on call doctor wasn’t there yet, but was on his way. Finally, what seemed to be an eternity later, the IV drip was finished and the anesthesiologist was there to put in the epidural. Once that was in place, the relief was almost immediate, and my mind was able to focus on what was going on around me.

The on-call doctor finally arrived and upon examination, shortly after the epidural was in place, it was found that I was already 10 cm dilated. The doctor and nurses instructed my husband and me that it was time to start the delivery phase of labor. After three short rounds of pushing, we were blessed with the sound of James crying. James was born at 1:37 A.M., only two hours and 17 minutes after my water broke. A team from the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit was called to examine him since he was premature. Fortunately, we couldn’t have asked for a healthier baby, small as he was. James weighed in at 5 pounds 13 ounces and stretched to 19.5 inches. He actually was a decent size for being five weeks early and was just shy of being an average weight for a newborn. Elation took over as I called my parents to tell them that they missed the delivery of their first grandson. We were eventually transferred to post partum and the rest of our experience with James’s arrival went smoothly and was pretty typical.

Fast forward to just past James’s first birthday. Early in February, I found myself staring open mouthed at another positive pregnancy test. How could this possibly be? I had an IUD put in after I had James since I wanted reliable birth control but didn’t want to take the pill since I was breast feeding James. This method was supposed to be 99.9% effective. Are we ready for a second child? We certainly wanted another one, but weren’t planning on this happening so soon. I quickly called my doctor’s office to get the blood test and schedule my first appointment. Pat shared in my joy and anxiety with this exciting news.

The first thing we had to do was make sure the pregnancy was healthy. The risk for miscarriage and tubal pregnancies is extremely high when conception occurs with an IUD. The stress and anxiety and happiness that we went through waiting to find out if everything was as it should be were almost unbearable. About five weeks into this pregnancy, morning sickness set in. By morning sickness, I mean extreme nausea and vomiting that would start somewhere between 3:00 and 4:00 P.M. and last until about 3 in the morning. Every half hour or so I would find myself rushing for a bathroom and hoping that this would be the last time I had to vomit for the day. Over the course of the next two weeks, I lost about 10 pounds. Unable to keep anything down despite trying everything that I could find that claimed to ease morning sickness, I finally got a prescription for an anti-nausea medication that helped a great deal. I was a bit hesitant to take the medication, not wanting to do anything that might potentially harm my baby. Even after tons of reassurance that the medication was safe and used frequently, I took it only when I absolutely needed it. The criteria for actually needing the medication, in my mind, was that I had some function that I had to attend in public and just couldn’t be rushing to a bathroom and non-functional for the entire time. Sitting through jury duty qualified as one of those times.

Around week 10, an ultrasound was completed at my first OB appointment and everything looked as it should. The baby was the right size and in the right place. A heartbeat could be seen. Once I knew that everything looked okay for my baby, I relaxed immediately. I can remember talking with my doctor about James’s delivery, since now my only fear was not making it to the hospital in time to deliver my baby. There was this unreasonable, or possibly reasonable (given James’s delivery) fear of having my baby on the side of I-95 trying to get to the hospital. I was reassured that they would do everything possible to prevent this from happening and to make sure that I was in the hospital for delivery. When I got to be close to my due date, I would be admitted to the hospital and induced. This plan was acceptable for me, and I was able to enjoy the remainder of my short pregnancy after the extreme morning sickness lessened at around 13 weeks.

Sunday, May 16, 2010, a date that I will always and forever remember. I was almost half way through my pregnancy. After spending a morning at the park with James, I put him down for his nap and decided to rest for a while. Pregnancy is exhausting and I had knee problems, which were making it difficult to walk. Using a pillow to prop my leg up and relieve the pain, I got myself comfortable on the couch and tried to take a brief nap. As I was lying there I started to feel very weak contractions that almost felt like minor menstrual cramps. I didn’t think too much about this, especially since I had the Braxton Hicks contractions so frequently during James’s pregnancy. I got up to get a glass of water to see if that would help ease the cramps, but was unsuccessful. Finding my comfortable spot on the couch again, I decided to just rest and relax, as that would be the best way to get the cramps to subside. After about an hour, I got up again to use the bathroom and was horrified to feel and hear the gush of fluid as my water broke. At the exact same time, I heard James start to cry.

Pat was at work during this time, so I rushed to get James and try to comfort him. Carrying and bouncing him through the house to calm him, I frantically searched for my cell phone and called Pat and then my doctor. I just remember saying, I think I’m losing the baby, and he was at the house within minutes. A friend was at the house, painting our foyer for us, so we left James with him in a hurry and rushed to the hospital. My doctor was on her way, even though she wasn’t even the doctor on call that day. As we drove to the hospital, I held my stomach and just cried, I couldn’t feel my baby kicking anymore.

Upon arrival at the hospital, we were