The journey to Mason's birth was very different than our other son, Micah's (you can check out his birth story here). We were still adjusting to being new parents. Micah was a feisty four month old and definitely keeping us on our toes but we were loving every minute of it. Then I got sick. Anyone who knows me well knows I try to avoid going to the doctor like the plague! I also avoid taking any medicine unless it absolutely necessary and even then there's a good chance I won't take it. I assumed my sickness was due to the fact that I worked with kids and a few of them had been sick and I thought I just caught something that they had and sort of brushed it off. However, I wasn't too naive to think pregnancy wasn't off the table either so I bought a test but it was negative, plus I started my cycle that same day so I just figured I was sick and soldiered on.
About 3 days later I was feeling like death warmed over so my husband, CJ, demanded I go to the doctor and reluctantly I did. Did I mention I hate going to the doctor? Anyway, I go and they ask all the routine questions, including "is there a possibility I could be pregnant?" I told them about the test I took and that my cycle just started so no I'm pretty sure I'm not pregnant. They ran some tests and I waited and waited. Finally, the nurse sort of slowly peaked her head through the door and told me I had bronchitis and then very quietly that I was pregnant. I've never been in shock before but I'm pretty sure that's what happen in that moment. The next thing I know I'm crying uncontrollably in front of this stranger. Not because I was sad or anything, I was just shocked! The nurse, Charity Faith, was very sweet and did her best to comfort me. I remember croaking out "I have a four month old at home," then explaining that while this was definitely unexpected it wasn't unplanned and through my tears I began to laugh. Charity put her arm around me and told me, "although we may not understand, God knows exactly what He's doing and He has a plan for this, just wait and see." I never knew how much I would hold on to those words over the next 9 months. Then panic set in. I thought I had started my cycle and couldn't possibly be pregnant and just knew something was wrong. Charity then explained that they were sending me to the ER for additional tests due to the bleeding. I was so scared. Here, I just went from shock, to joy, to sheer terror in a matter of 10 minutes. Plus, I had bronchitis on top of it all.
The doctors wouldn't let me leave unless someone came and got me or they were going to stick me in an ambulance. So, I realized I had to call CJ. I thought I had the flu or something so I decided to go alone while he stayed at home with Micah. I called trying to sound as calm as possible and simply said "you need to come get me." While I waited for him to arrive I realized my chances of telling him I was pregnant in a cute way were foiled once again and I was a bit bummed out. When he got there I told him what was going on and once again, in true CJ fashion, he was calm about it. Meanwhile, I'm trying not to freak out. From then the day just seem to be a chaotic mess, that I really want to forget about if I'm honest.
First, I had called my job all morning informing them that I was going to the doctor and may not be in that day. I left numerous messages because no one was answering the phone. So on the way to the ER, I get a call from my boss asking me why I wasn't at work. I explained to her that I and CJ had left several messages throughout the day and when the doctors told me that I was being sent to the ER, but no one had answered the phone. She then got very nasty and I had to cut her off because I was extremely scared and stressed out over the health of my baby that I simply couldn't take much more. Then, we had to quickly find someone to watch Micah because we didn't want him to be exposed to all the germs in the hospital. And third, CJ had previously agreed to work an earlier shift and had to be there in about 20 minutes. So thankfully my brother was able to come sit with me while I waited in the ER. The most awful part about it all was we didn't really tell anyone what was going on because we honestly didn't know ourselves. The doctors did an ultrasound and said they couldn't find a heartbeat but because it was so early that didn't necessarily mean anything bad but I was placed in the threaten miscarriage category and was told the only thing I could do was wait.
The next few weeks were a blur. I'm not sure how I breathed or lived after that happened really because I was felt like I was in a daze. I didn't sleep and every time I went to the bathroom I was met with bloody tissue. Behind closed doors I cried so much during that time because I was so scared I was losing this child I desperately wanted. It was really hard to put on a brave face at work and with my family when I was filled with fear. It was hard to be silent about our situation and not have the answers I felt like I needed. I just wanted to know that my baby was okay and because I didn't, I felt beyond helpless and alone.
When the day for my ultrasound finally came I was a nervous wreck because I was still early along and there was a chance they still wouldn't be able to see much of anything. I prayed and tried my best not to cry or panic while we were in the waiting room. When they called us back I was so anxious I felt like I was going to pass out. But when I was that oval shaped "blob" on the ultrasound screen with a heartbeat, I was instantly in love. The doctor said that things were looking good but because I was still bleeding and had a small internal bleed that they were hoping would go away on it's own, I wasn't out of the woods yet and remained in the threatened miscarriage category. I was devastated and heartbroken. My baby was right there! We could see the heartbeat! I wanted to know that everything was going to be okay but again I didn't.
From then on I had weekly ultrasounds to monitor the baby. When everything was finally looking up, we were hit with another obstacle: he was measuring behind. The doctors gave me all the information about what that could mean, which ranged from nothing to down syndrome and a few other genetic disorders. They pushed for genetic testing and we refused. So I was surprised when I showed up for what I thought was a routine ultrasound to find that they planned to do genetic testing anyway. I protested and they continued to push for it. Thankfully, my doctor stepped in and put a stop to it before they went any further. So it was back to weekly ultrasounds to monitor the baby's growth. It got to the point where I could read the measurements during the ultrasounds and every time my heart would sink when I saw he was measuring a week or a few days behind. Even though my doctor didn't seem too worried, "you're small so your baby might just be small because of that," I was constantly concerned.
During this time we chose not to tell too many people outside of certain family members and a few close friends that we were expecting. A major difference from our first pregnancy because social media and everyone knew about Micah. It was hard not sharing Mason with a lot of people, not because we didn't want to but because we were honestly trying to process all that was going on and by sharing we knew there would be questions that we just didn't have the answers to at the time and that we wished we had the answers too. Also, if our worst fears did occur, we wanted the chance to process it ourselves before having to tell anyone. That proved difficult when I would get calls from people I hadn't told about the baby, asking about the baby. I honestly wasn't in the best emotional state and was still very scared for the worst and it made me angry that someone we told in confidence would break our trust and share news that we felt was ours to share when we were ready.
With all the emotional stress of this pregnancy, I didn't have time to pay attention to the physical stress I dealt with. I feel like my body was angry with me for basically just putting it through the weight of carrying a baby, just to do it all over again and man did it punish me for it. Then there was caring for sweet little Micah, who was getting more and more on the mobile every day. Keeping up with him every day, I was beyond tired but I felt so guilty about it. I felt intense mom guilt because so quickly I had to share my love between two boys. Sure there was (and is) plenty to go around but they each had different needs that I felt a bit stretched to meet effectively. People kept making comments about how we were moving Micah out of the way, like he would be forgotten once Mason was born and it really upset me. Then when some people found out I was pregnant again so soon, I got a mix of "how dare you not tell me" and "you all need to slow down on having babies." I'd like to say they meant well but I'm not sure they all did. It was one roller coaster I was definitely ready to get off of.
Over time things settled down and other than Mason measuring a little small, things were okay, During a routine doctor's appointment, about 2 weeks before Mason was due, they did another ultrasound. I remember being so excited, for once, about this one because Mason would always hide his face and we hadn't really seen him yet so I was hoping he would finally show his face and boy did he ever. After waiting for what seemed like forever ( I saw forever because I was really hungry and was ready to leave because I hadn't eaten yet) the doctor came in and said "so how do you feel about having a baby today?" I remember saying "sure?" then "can I have a baby today?" She explained that Mason had gotten all that he was going to get as far as nutrition from me and it was time for him to come on out. It was funny because I had jokingly asked CJ the night before what we would do if the doctor said it was go time tomorrow but we both laughed it off because we had 2 weeks left, the nursery wasn't finished and the only bag packed was Mason's. Yet, here we were and they were sending me to be induced.
I got to the hospital around 4 pm on July 21st and after they induced me, active labor kicked in around 11 pm that night. The contractions were really intense but for some reason I kept thinking they were supposed to be worse until the nurse suggested I get an epidural. "Already?" I asked but she said "you've been doing really well but these are pretty strong, no need to be tough anymore if you don't want to." She didn't have to tell me twice. I got an epidural around 4 am and it was just a waiting game. Other than a slight drop in Mason's heart rate which caused my blood pressure to go up, I only remember this about a week after giving birth because I thought it was a dream, everything went smoothly. At 10 am they suggested I do some practice pushes since I was fully dilated. CJ was taking a shower and we had to bang on the door so he wouldn't miss anything. A few pushes later, Mason Alexander was born at 10:20 am, weight 5lbs, 2 oz. It was very quick and painless. He was so tiny and cute and I was so happy he was finally here after every stress and worry and he was perfectly healthy.
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| Mason Alexander |
Although I wouldn't have chosen the journey it took to get Mason here, I wouldn't trade it or him for anything in the world. It is without a doubt a miracle he is here. Just like when Micah was born I can't imagine what life was like without him and I feel so blessed to be his mother.
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| Micah meeting Mason for the first time |
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| The loves of my life |
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| Mason at 1 week old |
This was really a very vulnerable moment for me to share but I hope you enjoyed reading about how we welcome our second little guy into the world. Until next time.
Blessings,
Whitney
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