The birth of my fourth child is best described as a “Grand Finale,” but to understand why my fourth birth story deserves a name so grand, I will have to take you back to the birth of my first child.
They are so connected, and every day that I see my sweet fourth’s little face, I am reminded of my first. His birth ultimately changed my world.
So here goes my tiny recap.
My first child was born early at 34 weeks, due to a blood clot that had pulled my uterine lining and placenta away from each other, ultimately depriving my little man of oxygen and forcing an emergency c-section.
He was taken to the NICU, where we spent the next 4 days together before we had to decide to remove our firstborn son from life support.
He died in my arms, and my heart and soul were forever changed.
I knew in those moments that I did have with him-all I wanted in this world was to be a mommy.
My second and third pregnancies were very high risk and I was monitored constantly. After losing my firstborn, it was discovered that I have a genetic blood clotting disorder and certain precautions were taken. Luckily, both of these pregnancies were very uneventful and my girls were born happy and healthy.
Finally, I was on to my grand finale…
My fourth and final pregnancy had been going pretty smoothly… at least, as smoothly as a pregnancy can go while also having a four and two-year-old to wrangle. I felt really good, and was nervous and excited to meet my baby boy.
I was a day shy of 34 weeks when we moved from OKC to Edmond. I had probably done more than I should have that day, but I was excited to be in our new house and desperately wanted to get settled before baby numero quatro arrived.
We got our master bedroom set up and got both girls to sleep in our bed, while the hubs and I made beds on the couch. We were exhausted, and I immediately fell asleep when my head hit the couch.
I just remember my eyes opening, and I was suddenly awake and alert. My underpants felt wet, so I rushed to the bathroom to see bright red blood EVERYWHERE.
My heart dropped, and I immediately panicked. I did not even wake my husband up, people, I was so freaking scared. I hit him really hard on my way running out of the house and screamed to him that I was going to the ER.
My poor husband didn’t even have time to respond before I was gone.
I was rubbing my tummy and pleading to my baby boy the whole crazy drive to the hospital, begging him to hold tight and to keep fighting.
My little man was supposed to be born in the city but in my panic, I ended up at the affiliated hospital in Edmond, where my doctor luckily lived right down the street.
I arrived in the ER at 2 a.m. and immediately explained to them my history, and what I knew was happening to my body. This is going to sound bizarre, but I swear I could feel the clot in me.
My doctor arrived and ordered the ultrasound which confirmed what I had already known – there was a giant blood clot separating my lining again.
I was immediately rushed into surgery, and my grand finale arrived at 4 a.m. on February 4th, 2014.
My husband rushed into the OR as they were pulling him out, and luckily did not miss the birth because I panicked and ditched him.
My sweet baby boy was out safely, and because I and my doctor had both reacted so quickly, he was not deprived of oxygen at all.
The nurses kept preparing me for the fact that he would most likely go to the NICU since he arrived six weeks early, but he was eating so well and doing so great that he never set foot in that NICU.
It is still, to this day, one of the most bittersweet moments I have ever experienced.
I was so sad that I could not save his big brother, but so immensely proud that because of him, I could and did know how to save this precious baby boy.
If it weren’t for him, none of this would have been possible.
For that, I will forever be grateful.
Have you experienced a similar situation?
Do your birth stories intertwine?