I gave birth to a space monkey...true story!

I was sitting on a blow up doughnut trying to forget what had happened the night before. I still couldn't believe that I had just had a baby. And I was preparing myself for bad news. For some reason I thought my baby was going to die. He couldn't survive in this world because he wasn't ready for it. So I kept telling myself that I would just have to try again. I was tearing up and I was getting sad. My body ached and my head was sore. And I had to come to terms with the fact that my baby wasn't going to make it.

I tried to figure out how I got here. I had waited so long to be a mom. I joked with people that all I wanted was a baby and Gray was the one that didn't.  In reality I don't think I was really ready for the responsibility. I was terrified of raising a child in this crazy world and I was so worried that I would be a horrible mother and screw up. But as time went on and people kept having adorable babies, I kind of changed my thinking. Maybe I could do this. When girls that I use to babysit started having their own babies I decided I was ready for that adventure too.  When we got pregnant I was beyond happy and a little smug. No one was gonna steal my thunder. I would accept the congrats and enjoy the attention. Then my sister Angie had also announced that she was pregnant and I was freaking out because as the oldest child I had to have the first baby. So I told my baby to hurry up and bake because I was waiting for him. I thought about all this as we drove to the NICU and I blamed myself for rushing my baby. I put too much pressure on him and now I was just going to have to start all over again.

We arrived at the hospital and went to see Logan. When I first saw him I was speechless. And I just stared.There is no way to describe it. Later on when I would describe what he looked like I said that his body was the size of a pop can with string cheese sticks for arms and legs. Small just didn't explain it.  His skin was completely see through and an awful orange red color. I saw all his veins and they were as thin as a piece of thread. The nurses had been trying to get an IV in his arm and he had pokes and knicks all over his skin. His head was smaller than a tennis ball and his ears were paper thin. I thought they were stuck against his head and they looked like you could just peel them off. His eyes were still fused shut and very swollen.  He had small tubes up his nose that were connected to bigger tubes. Those tubes were held in place by the most welfare looking setup called CPAP. Safety pins and elastic bands were attached to a little knit hat. His face was squished because the little hat was so tight and his nostrils were inflamed and red from having things shoved up his nose that were too big. If there was such a thing as a space monkey, I was looking at one. He was so sick and strange looking and I felt guilty for not thinking he was the perfect child.  My poor baby just lay there and I had no idea what was going on with him. My eyes were full of tears and my heart was just breaking. The nurse that day was nice and sort of explained all the tubes and bells and whistles connected to Logan but mostly left us alone. I sat down in a swivel chair and pulled it right up to his incubator. I pressed my face up against the edge and watched him breath. His breaths were really shallow and I could see his heart beating really fast. Our night nurse came on and explained a lot more but I just sat next to Logan late into the night. Gray went home to sleep and still I just sat and stared.

I think I went to sleep for maybe an hour that night but the alarms on Logan's bed kept going off and I would jump up and rush over to make sure he was still breathing. Every breath looked so painful and I had never wanted to trade places with anyone so much. I had put Logan in to this awful situation and I would have given anything to take all his pain away. But part of me was still not quite connecting with this child. He needed me but it was still so surreal. I couldn't even touch him and yet I was his mother and he needed me. There had to be something I could do for this teeny baby that could help him. I was convinced if I could just touch him that he would feel better. However another nurse had come on for the day shift and she was all business. She told me that Logan's skin was like wet tissue paper and just the smallest touch could cause it to peel off. With the nurse nazi hovering around I was too scared to even look at Logan.
So I pumped. It was beyond embarrassing at first but my boobs were making food for my little guy and every drop would help. And I began to calm down. I even had the audacity to think that I could handle this whole situation. I would just take it day by day. Be there for Logan and see how things turned out. Everyone was so optimistic about him that I started to think that he would be ok.

Unfortunately it was a feeling that was very short lived and I soon realized that I was in no way prepared to deal with what was coming.

3 days old... CPAP and sunglasses

Without the bells and whistles