And then there were three...

There is a part of me that is still a little scared inside. I think that is why I have avoided sharing Logan's story in full detail. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to realize that the little peanut snoring next to me on the couch is actually mine. He almost wasn't.

I think there were a lot of people in our lives who knew how seriously ill and fragile Logan was. There were also a lot of people who thought I was overreacting and freaking out about nothing. The fact of the matter is (oh i love a good cliche now and then) that your baby does not spend 5 weeks on a ventilator if he is ok. He does not spend 93 days in the NICU if he is healthy. Even when you finally get him home, he is still delicate and still sick. I mean he is so super fragile and small that even a little bitty cold could send him back to the hospital. So it's scary...and I am doing the best I can.

People think I am weird cause I never take Logan out and that I am so paranoid about someone coughing or sneezing close to him. I guess the only way for them to understand is to hear about it and learn what was really going on. And I seriously need to get Logan's story out of my system. There are so many thoughts and feelings that our little family went through in these past few months and I hope that writing them down will help bring closure to the whole thing. The pain, the sadness, the relief, the joy. It's all inside me and I need tell it.

I remember finding out I was pregnant and how apprehensive and totally excited I was. I remember finding out we were having a boy and how I cried a little (don't judge. i grew up in a house of girls...i knew nothing about boys except that they pee standing up) I remember waiting for my belly to finally pop and how nervous I was getting about having a baby. And then I remember my belly never really popping because my baby came too early. I remember that there was no more time left to think or dream about him because he was here and he wasn't well at all. Then I couldn't really remember much at all. All those days and nights in the NICU gave me a lot of time to think. What happened? What did I do wrong? Why didn't I go to the hospital sooner? Why did I go to the gym when I felt so bad? Was it all the frozen lemonade I drank for 3 straight months? Was it all the water I didn't drink? The guilt was so immense that I was actually disgusted with myself for not being more alert. For not being one with my womb and knowing that something was terribly wrong. I am still trying to figure it out in my mind but it still doesn't make sense. By telling Logan's story I hope it will.

The day before I had Logan I felt yucky. Sort of like stomach flu yucky with a few unscheduled trips to the bathroom...no big deal, right? I had been so sick for the first 4 months and I was finally starting to feel good again so I brushed it aside. I was even eating normal food again and was actually craving fruit (maybe that was a sign that something was amiss) I woke up Sunday morning with cramps and went back to bed while Gray went to church. A couple hours later I hauled myself up and got ready to go to the hospital for our pregnancy tour. Yup...pregnancy tour. The tour you go on when you are still months away from giving birth. I still felt crampy in my stomach but kept it to myself. Two weeks earlier I had been in such intense pain that I thought I was going to collapse in the toilet paper aisle at Costco so I went to the OB to make sure everything was ok. I felt like a sissy when she told me everything was fine and to just keep on. So when I started feeling the same way again I ignored it. I told myself that being pregnant kinda sucked sometimes and I just needed to man up. And here is a big secret... in real life I am a total wimp! No joke! I whine and complain at the slightest discomfort and while I try not to be a drag I have to make sure everyone knows I am feeling bad. For some reason that day I really didn't say much. We did the whole tour thing and all I wanted to do was sit down. I was getting really uncomfortable. When we went to look at the birthing rooms, the nurse explained that once we had our babies they would immediately be put on our chests. It was a time for bonding that both mom and baby desperately needed. It brought tears to my eyes thinking about that moment. The moment when everything would make sense and be worth all the pain. I wanted that moment to be so special and I tried to imagine what it would be like. As we were leaving the hospital, a few nurses commented on what a good looking group we were. They wished us well and I said I would see them all again in 3 months.

I can't really recall much of what happened that afternoon. I had a nap and that was the only time I wasn't hurting. After I woke up I must have made dinner or something but all that I remember is that Gray and I started to watch this documentary about babies being born in America and how everyone is pro epidural. It was all about midwives and how it is natural for a baby to be born under water. I was so over it. By that point I was in quite a bit of pain so I decided to get in the bath. As I was getting ready to get in I noticed a little spotting. I showed Gray and he said that was fine. I decided to proceed with my tub. As I sat down in the warm water I noticed some more blood and then there was a lot. I called my mom and asked her what she thought. It was almost 8:00pm and she advised me to call the doctor. I spoke to the answering service lady and she told me that she would have the on call doctor get back to me. When she called she asked me where I was and told me I needed to go to the closest hospital and she would meet us there. I hung up and washed my hair. Looking back I could have kicked my own butt because those last few moments were precious and I should have gone faster. As we drove to the hospital I finally started to worry. The pain was really bad by then and at a red light I told Grayson to run it. Of course he didn't because it's against the law or something but I think now that he would have if he knew what was happening. Anyway we made our way to the hospital and were buzzed in at the birth center. The nurses asked me what was wrong and I told them I was in pain and kind of bleeding and that some doctor was on her way. They led me to a room and told me to wait on the bed. It seemed like forever but was probably only 5 minutes. A nurse came in and gave me a gown to change into. My pride and modesty left me in an instant. I ripped my clothes off and got back on the bed. I was bleeding more now and getting nervous. I asked Gray a million times where the nurses were. I needed help. Something wasn't right. I hurt and there was more blood. I could feel it running down my legs now and knew it was getting serious. Another nurse came in and started hooking me up to a fetal monitor. It was silent in the room while we waited to hear the baby's heartbeat. At first we didn't. I started to get teary eyed and squeezed Gray's hand. I finally relaxed when I heard a heartbeat but the nurse informed me that it was my own. I panicked. Where was my baby? Didn't they know that he had to be in there? Did they understand that he had to be there? I never realized how badly I wanted this child until I thought he wasn't alive. I cried. The nurse hooked up another monitor and then we heard it. A little flutter heartbeat. I calmed down right away because everything was fine. Surely they would give me something to stop the bleeding. I would spend the night in the hospital and eat red hospital jello. However someone had to stop the pain. I couldn't eat if I was in pain.

Then everything fell apart. One nurse wanted to check me out. She was on the phone with the doctor and said she wasn't going to see if I was dilated. The doctor told her to anyway. She put the phone down and lifted the sheet. She quickly put it down and said that I was fully dilated. Wait what? They needed to stop that fast because people that are fully dilated have babies and I wasn't having my baby. I was only 26 weeks pregnant. I still had 3.5 months to grow my belly and I still had to feel my baby get the hiccups and kick me.  Someone was starting to give me an IV and I was telling everyone that the baby had to stay inside. He wasn't ready. He couldn't come out.

Before this experience I knew very little about premature babies. My dad was a few weeks early and I had a cousin that was premature but they were fine now. I even thought the NICU was a place where full term sick babies went. I didn't know you could have a baby at 26 weeks. I didn't know that a baby could survive being born that early. All this was running through my mind as I squeezed Gray's hand and totally lost it. I kept tell anyone who would listen that they had to keep him inside. I repeated over and over again that he couldn't come, that he wasn't ready, it was too early, I wasn't ready.

By then I was huffing and puffing. My mouth was dry. I was in immense pain and someone was telling me to breath. Gray said over and over again that it was going to be ok. I felt lightheaded and someone put an oxygen mask over my face. I thought those things pushed air into you but I didn't feel anything different. Where was my oxygen? The nurse finally finished with the IV just as the other one yelled at me to calm down. She yelled again and told me to look at her. I looked at Grayson. Again she told me to look at her. I did and she screamed for me to calm down. Gray was still telling me it would be ok, it would be ok and I was still saying it was too early too early too early. The nurse told me to slow my breathing down and focus. Gray said it would be ok. I finally just yelled that it was obviously not going to be ok. I was hurting so much and telling them to keep the baby in. The next moment I was yelling for them to take the baby out. I was delirious in pain and just wanted everything to be over. They kept telling me to stop pushing and I tried to tell them I wasn't but then my body clenched up and pushed. I felt a gush of something wet and I screamed. I asked if that was the baby because there was a huge relief of pressure. I seriously thought my baby had shot out of me! I was told that was just my water breaking which was reassuring to hear cause that meant my baby was still inside and they could still stop him from coming out.

At this point it gets a little blurry. Everything started hurting again and I was off yelling again. They really needed to get the baby out. I knew that was wrong. I knew he shouldn't come out but at the time it was all I could think of. By then they were telling me to push and I was so out of it that I questioned how the nurses could ask me to breath and push at the same time. I tried to remember what I knew about giving birth but I basically knew nothing. Our birthing classes were two months away and I never saw anyone have a baby like this on TV. But I pushed or tried to. It was insane. I felt like I was splitting in two. This was happening too fast. We had only been at the hospital for half an hour. The doctor wasn't even there yet. PUSH. I tried to breath but couldn't catch my breath and then my body clenched again. I screamed.

And then he was out. My baby was here...

Little Logan  

26.2 weeks

1 lb. 15 oz.

First Family Photo