After our specialized ultrasound we had to wait 20 minutes for our doctor to call the office and translate the results to us since no one in the office spoke English. He said, "Meet me at the hospital as soon as possible. We may have to take the baby"... in his broken English. I was like.... "say what"...???? So I called my friend Gladys Rodriguez and had her call him to verify.... I was sure I had misunderstood. I am always the optimist - and was sure that he meant let's just do another test...
But sure enough - he was NOT joking. The cord was wrapped around his body and diminishing his oxygen. Within minutes of arriving at the hospital and a flurry of tubes and needles, and monitors.... he said "we must go to surgery.... caesarean is necessary to save the baby's life..."
Then they gave me a shot of some kind of adrenaline to make my heart race... "in order to get the baby's heart rate up". From that point on things were CrAzY. My heart was pounding... they were racing me to O.R. Gladys and Gil walked in mere minutes before they rushed me off. Macy and Mia were able to stay in the room with them. I thank God for their quick desire to meet us at the hospital for support! Because of them our girls were not traumatized!!
Brad was still checking me in... In the OR they began to crazily open sterile instruments and throw them on the table while rapid fire speaking in Spanish... the anesthesiologist was pushing me over trying to get an epidural in all the while speaking to me in Spanish... (which I had no idea what he was saying :( ... and my heart was RACING)...
I kept asking the one nurse that knew a little English - "where is my husband?" Brad eventually was brought back after they found him at the check in desk.
They immediately started the c-section - and it was.... violent... if that could be used to describe it... NOT at all like those pretty little calm ones you see on the discovery channel. Brad said he thought they were going to thrash me off the table in the process of getting him out. It was CrAzY. I was crying. Brad was praying in the Spirit. That gave me peace in the midst of the storm. I was still in shock.
Micah came and then was whisked away. Immediately to NICU. Ventilators and tubes. His lungs were not ready and he was in distress.
It would be 24 hours before we could see him, and several days before we could touch him. Only one nurse in the NICU spoke English - and she was only there for a few hours a day.
3 days later, on May 27, starting at 9 AM (Arkansas time) (4 PM Spain time) - Micah was able to go without his ventilator and oxygen....
It stayed off all day! And wow at the progress! We got to see his face for the first time without the tubes! The pediatrician was in shock at this progress! We told her that we had hundreds of people and churches praying this day - it was a Sunday - and she said "....it's working." Which is shocking to hear from a Spaniard - in a nation where God mostly represents only their religious roots or many do not believe in God at all.
Six days later they told me I could finally hold him. I cried in disbelief. It had felt like an eternity! I realize we are blessed b/c many people have to wait much longer before holding their NICU babies...and many others have lost their children.
The doctor later told us that if he had not taken him that day - Micah would have died in utero within a few days. We realize we hold a miracle today. Happy 1st birthday to the happiest, healthiest baby boy I know! You are a miracle. Being born in Spain may have saved your life.
And here is my little birthday stinker. Precious.
And it started quite the journey for ME. After enduring crazy things with my body and mind, being diagnosed with PTSD, and returning to the states, I have made great strides in recovery - but am still not 100%. But I thank God for progress. For what He is doing IN me, both body and spirit.
One thing God has given me through all of this is a new lens through which to look at life with. I understand pain more than ever before. And every time I turn around - I am meeting people going through trials and pain. And they see in my eyes that I get it. I really get it. I understand. I don't just pat them on the back and give them cliche answers. I hurt with them. I don't understand with them. I am walking the path of CHOOSING to trust God as I walk this journey. And what beautiful opportunities he has given me to share that faith... the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful. And to share the hope of his redeeming this mess.
