Followers

22 January 2008

The Third One's The Charm

I should have known that when I came up with a positive pregnancy test 1 week before the husband's scheduled(as in I'd had 2 C sections, exploratory surgery for infertility. the miscarriage of our quints(Kevin, Keith, Kyle, Kira and Kimberly)and it was time the husband had the up front close and personal experience of body pain) vasectomy, this child was going to march to the beat of a different drummer...

Brief history---married in June 1976, had Kelli Lynne in October 1977 and developed polycystic ovarian disease. After surgery, fertility drugs and the loss of the quints, I gave up. Started nursing school in August 1984 and got pregnant in September with Michael so he and I did nursing school together. OK-one boy, one girl. Perfect. I waited until Michael was 6 months old to make sure he was OK after taking 8 years to get him here and told the husband it was over~finis~and time for HIM to be the man and get 'er done.

And then I got sick with a bladder infection. Been down this road before and decided to get a Dr. apt. on the way to work my evening shift as a data entry supervisor for EDS. I was doing payroll for the week so took in my briefcase, peed in the cup and waited to see what the antibiotic of choice was going to be this time. The doctor came in and said, "Uh, you're pregnant!" The payroll cards hit the floor and I demanded to see the rabbit who died and made this possile and I wanted a recount! No.way.could.I.be.pregnant. It took an act of God to get Michael. He blathered on about at my age(31)I needed to see my OB tomorrow and make sure everything was OK. I went home and the husband was out cutting grass. I went up to him and said, "Your vasectomy has been cancelled." I think he stood there and listened to the host of heavenly angels sing the Hallelulah Chorus and then it hit him. "You said I had to get one because the only way you'd have more surgery to get your tubes tied was if you ever had another C-section..." I raised his arm in the air and yelled, "Winner and still champion of dodging pain, surgery and suffering." and stomped into the house.

The weeks went on and I was busy with a toddler and an 8 year old, working full time and starting to get excited about the gift of a third child. The OB did a sonogram and said, "It's another boy." My practical mind was ecstatic...he could use Michael's clothes, Michael would have a brother to play with. It was all good. Every month because I was high risk, the Dr. did an ultrasound, counted the heart rate and beamed, "It's still a boy!"

My son was scheduled to be delivered the Monday before Thanksgiving and with proper crossing of fingers and toes, would come home Thanksgiving morning. I needed to be at the hospital at 3 p.m. on Sunday for pre-op blood work, etc. and the C section would go down at 8 on Monday morning. Michael had had a febrile seizure the month before and I was very anxious about leaving him for 4 days. I just knew he wouldn't be taken care of like I would take care of him. I decided on Sunday morning to be proactive and do the Thanksgiving dinner shopping before I went to the hospital so the husband wouldn't have to do it(and forget half the stuff). Mission accomplished, car loaded and the car wouldn't start...what a time for a timing belt to break!

Enter my father's mid life crisis tricked out new navy blue Dodge Caravan complete with a chrome ladder and enough pin stripes that the Indy 500 could be raced on the length of them if they were laid end to end. He picked us up, got the groceries home and of course it had started raining.

1:00. I was really draggin' feet about leaving Michael but finally got ready and of COURSE we had to take Dad's tricked out van. I felt like I was riding in a Passion Pit. We pulled up to the hospital and I got out and 2 ladies who had been doing their Sunday morning visiting of the sick just stopped.dead.in.their.tracks and one loudly whispered to the other, "Betty, no WONDER she is pregnant...Look at the devil's passion pit van she just got out of!", tsked-tsked to each other and stared at me as they quickly left.

I get to the Admitting Office and they say, "Oh, yes, we've been expecting you for your blood transfusion." Hello? WHAT transfusion? Oh, no, that was another patient. My preadmitting paperwork had somehow not materialized...was I sure I was going to need a C-section?

I finally get up to a room and the nurse rushes in and says, "Did you bring a camera with you?" I told her I had and she said, "Can I use it? Some mother just came in in early labor and looks like she's going to deliver and the father forgot the camera." By this point, I just handed her the camera. I sent the husband home to relieve my father of babysitting duties and settled in. It was a buzz on the floor and I would get drive-by updates as someone ran in to take my vitals, serve my supper and tell me that my obstetrician had delivered his 8th baby of the day just now and had 3 more in the delivery room. OK then.

I decided to mosey out to the nursery window and watch the growing collection of new citizens and stood there admiring them and letting the fathers tell me how cute, how special, etc. their newborns were when the nursing supervisor ran up to me and said, "How long have you been doing that?" Seems like she had been observing me and I was having contractions.

You have to understand. Kelli and Michael were both C-sections because Kelli was breech and 30 days postmaturity and Michael was just a repeat C section so I had NEVER had one contraction. Wouldn't know it if it slapped me upside the abdomen, which became blatantely obvious. The nurse put me to bed, started running IV meds to stop the contractions and said, "If we don't get these stopped, you'll be Dr. Vinai's 12th delivery today."

Made it through the night and was being prepped. Or should say, participated in my prepping because the nurse of the moment had apparently never put in a Foley catheter before and was trying to go where no tube had gone before. By this time, I was a touch testy and told her to back away from the bed and I put it in myself. Nursing school sure paid off! I then had her bring my suitcase to the bed where I unpacked the most ADORABLE red snuggly sleeper with a little teddy bear on it, just perfect for my new son, David Christopher. The husband finally got there(he will be late for his own funeral, trust me!) and I was wheeled to the OR. They finished the prep and I lay there and thought, "OK-showtime. All the problems are over. No more surprises." only to hear on the overhead speakers, "Will the owner of a green Dodge pickup please return to the parking lot. Your lights are on." I said a not so nice word and looked up at the husband and said, "How could you?" He said, "Well, guess I'll go and turn them off." and through clenched teeth I screamed, "Don't move. Your son is about to be born." and they clamped an oxygen mask over my mouth. I hear movement, a cry and then Dr. Vinai peeked over the draping and said, "You have a beautiful daughter!" DAUGHTER? I screamed, "You look again. You said all this time I had a son. I bought all the nursery decor in red and navy, he has blue clothes because I wasn't going to have to go out during the holiday hell to buy his clothes and since I knew he was a boy, I had it covered. His name is David Christopher. I do not even HAVE a girl name because YOU said he was a boy." And then the doctor uttered words that if I could have reached him, they would have been his last..."Do you want to forget about the tubal ligation and try for another son?" I struggled despite hands holding me down to sit up and say, "I want those tubes cut, tied, burned and braided and I'm going to watch to make sure you do just that!" Seems like next thing I remembered was waking up back in my room several hours later due to the miracle of IV sedation.

I had been working with my BIL on their Irish family tree and saw too many Irish counties beginning with the letter K so in my drug-induced state came up with the name of Kiereney Jo. Never did find an Irish county named that, so it was an inspired name. I love it-she hates it. That's what she gets for doing the presto-chango interuterine sex change act...

And she did come home on Thanksgiving morning in the red sleeper with the navy teddy bear on it. And promptly barfed all over it on the way home.

I did go out in Black Friday Hell and exchange red and blue clothing and diaper bag for lots of pink and frills. I owed her that. I should have made Dr. Vinai do it.

She has been the live wire in my life for the last 21 years. And I wouldn't change it for all the David Christophers in the world.

5 comments:

Wonderful World of Weiners said...

What a great story. I had no idea about the quints - thanks for sharing that part.

You are a talented writer, Ness.

All I manged to talk about was a wild turkey call and a cute tattoo!!

You one up'd me!!

Hallie

Ness said...

Wouldn't one up you for all the tea in China, Hallie dear. Just trying to get my stories down for posterity while I can.

Pioneering in PA said...

Sorry about the loss of the quints, I can't imagine losing 5, although I did lose 1. Great story, and I love the way you tell it!

dlyn said...

I love to read what you write Ness - always fascinating. When I had the ultrsound for Lauren, they couldn't tell anything but I was convinced for some reason that she was going to be boy. Ellyn overheard me say so often enough that she was really P/o-ed when she got a baby sister instead. I was glad though!

peach said...

Laughed and cried through this one... love it ... Tears for the quints... Laughter for the tubal... dr's swore my son was a girl right till he popped out and up! We daddy and I both believed Cory would be a boy !
Another excellent post!
Laura