James and I had a 5 year plan--getting married and enjoying each other's company completely, before introducing another family member into the mix. Well, our adjusted plan became the 3 year plan. because in the summer of 2006, I found out I was pregnant. It was a good pregnancy--I cherished every kick, turn, and even the insatiable appetite. I was really sick for about the first six months, but knowing that I had a wonderful little being growing in me made it worth it. It was beautiful. I looked forward to every doctor appointment and the 2 ultrasounds were amazing. As I was nesting over Christmas break, I was trying to arrange our tiny, one bedroom apartment to accommodate a new little one. I found it difficult to find room for the clothes and items we had already gotten. After a baby shower a few weeks later, it became VERY apparent, that we were going to have to move. James got right down to it and started looking for houses to rent. He found an adorable little 3 bedroom house in a family-oriented neighborhood at a reasonable price. We moved immediately and were very excited, for this meant that we were truly going to be a
family of 3. About a week or two after moving, I went to a regularly scheduled doctors appointment on a Friday and they found that my blood pressure was high. They told me to take it easy over the weekend and come in again on Monday to have it checked out again. Well, living in a house with things in boxes does not make it easy to "take it easy" and I've never really been good at that in the first place. When Monday came around, I took the morning off of work and went in to get my blood pressure checked again. It was supposed to be a quick 10 minute thing. It was still high and I was told I would be on immediate bed rest. I called my principal in tears to let him know that I was not coming in that day--until after my maternity leave was over. This was a total surprise, as I though I still had another month to prepare for my long term substitute. I went in to work that afternoon to try to piece together what I could for the rest of the week, thinking I would do lesson plans from my bed week by week until Katherine joined us. I went to bed that night exhaused, but excited about the bed rest, because honestly, my 5th graders were probably a good contrubutor to my high blood pressure. I could use a few weeks away and I was excited about the idea of unpacking my house (to the dismay of my husband who was ready to strictly enforce the BED rest thing). I got up on Tuesday Febuary 13th to work on more plans, when the phone rang about 10:00. It was the doctor calling to update me on a test I had done the previous day. She said that they found a high level of protien in my urine and that they wanted me to go to the lab at the hospital for another test. When I heard the word "hospital" I paniced a little, but she assured me that the reason for the hospital was because they got test results back much faster than if they did them in the lab at their office. I called James and told him what the doctor had told me and he rushed home to go with me--he hadn't missed a doctors appointemet the entire pregnancy. I tried to disuade him, saying it was just for a quick test, but he insisted. He must have had pieced the clues together better than I, because he packed our overnight bag and carseat before we left. I laughed at him and assured him that we were not going to come home from this silly test with a baby.
At the hospital, I checked into the triage unit, as the doctor has asked me to do. When we arrived, the nurse led me immediately to a room to be hooked up to a fetal heart rate monitor and blood pressure monioring. I was supposed to lay there and be monitored for an hour, but it ended up being more like 3. We were hungry and excited to leave the hospital and eat some In-N-Out Burger when we were done. Just as we were discussing this, the doctor came and told us that the blood pressure was not better--even at a resting rate. She said the baby's heart rate was fine but she wanted to do an ultrasound just to be sure. I was excited for the ultrasound! Another sneak peak at my little one was a welcome delight! After the ultrasound, she told me that I had preeclempsia--a condition in which high blood pressure caused by pregnancy can result in heat attack or stroke of the mother and cause distress for the baby. She said the only "cure" for this was delivery. I was fine with that. Meeting in a few days was an exciting thought! She told me that she had already reserved the Operating Room for 3:00 that afternoon--I was going to have the baby TODAY! After the doctor left, I cried and cried. I'm not ready to have this baby. My house is a mess, my parents are 2,000 miles away, this is a C-section (!) and my plans for school were nowhere near ready. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen! James called everyone that needed to know and let them know what was happening. His family lived nearby and they rushed over to be with me for a few minutes before the surgery. I was holding up okay until they prayed with me just before I was wheeled into the O.R. I was a blubbering mess.
I was awake during the surgery. Though a bit hazy and dizzy, I could feel the doctors pulling and prying the baby out. I just kept looking at James and he stroked my head--he was excited to be a Daddy and that made me excited. The whole thing just seemed like it was happening to someone else. When the doctors pulled Katherine out and I heard her little cry, I knew life would forever be different. James got to hold her right away and I got my turn after I was sewed up and in the recovery room. I was shaking like crazy--I don't know if it was a reaction to the anesthetic or in fear, but I didn't hold her long, for fear that I would drop her. My Dad rushed to the airport as soon as James called him from the triage room that afternoon and arrived late that night. I was so glad to see my Daddy. I don't care how old you are--there is something comforting about a Daddy. I spend the next 24 hours without my baby recovering from the surgery in some excruciating pain. I don't remember why I couldn't see Katherine, but I was upset about it. This was one reason I didn't want a C-section--I wanted to bond with my baby right away. My mom, who was on a business trip, spent that night in the airport because all flights were canceled due to snow storms. I can't imagine what she was feeling knowing that her baby had a baby and she couldn't be there. She made it to San Diego on the night of the 14th. Again, more tears for me--there's something about the comfort of a mother. I remember how glad she was to be there and how excited she was to hold her granddaughter.
After 5 days in the hospital, I was allowed to go home with my baby. This was exciting and terrifying all at the same time--it's amazing that after being under such careful watch for 9 months to make sure you are doing your best to grow a healthy baby, they just let you take it home to figure things out as you go.
I adore this little girl. She's now almost 4 years old. A beautiful, happy girl, with lots of opinions and a joy of learning new things! She's still my snuggle bug and I hope she won't mind being one for several more year--for my benefit.
This is one of my favorite pictures!
Look how happy my husband is to see his little girl!
My little baby bear the day we brought her home.
(I bought this hat soon after I found out I was pregnant.)
And this is Katherine now--
my 3 year old baby, and her friend, Baxter Bear,
enjoying our nightly story time
