Jackson's Story

While this blog was started for family and friends to be able to keep up with what was going on with the kids, it's also a journal of sorts for the boys. My dad died when I was seven, and I don't remember a lot about him. I want my kids to know who I am. I want them to know that I was funny, and weird, loving, hateful (!), compassionate, crafty...well, I want them to know everything about me...in case something happens to me, they'll know who I am. So I wanted to take a bit (okay, I'm going to need more than "a bit") to tell about Jackson's entry into this world.

Chris went to Colorado to (are you ready?) Great American Beer Fest, a last hurrah, if you will, before Jackson was born. It's a big transition going from one child to two (or more!). So off he went. He'd planned this trip a long time before. I was 33 1/2 weeks pregnant. I had just been to the doctor and we had scheduled my c-section for November 10 (my due date was November 18??). He and three friends drove our car.

Thursday night (October 9, 2008), my mom came to babysit Dalton so that I could go to get my hair cut. It was a last minute plan...I had just measured my hair and had the ten inches I needed to cut and donate to Locks of Love, something I do every two years. So Mom arrives, and I leave for the salon. I only got about 1/2 mile from the house. I was on a road that has no turning lane, and the guy in front of me was stopped to make a left hand turn, waiting on traffic. I stopped behind him, and then, WHAM! I got rear ended. The kid (yes, he was a 16 year old kid) hit me hard enough that I then slammed into the guy in front of me.

I had left my cell phone at home, in case Mom needed to make a call for some reason (we don't have a home phone). I tried using the phone of the guy in front of me to call her, but I didn't realize that he had a different area code, so each time I tried to call I got some weird lady's voice mail. :) The paramedics came and asked me "How you feeling?" and at the time I felt fine, so they left (so very thorough, they were!).

We got the cars moved to the side, the cops came and took statements, and about an hour and a half later, I got to leave. I went home, where Mom's first words were "I thought you were getting a hair cut?" with a kind of disgusted look on her face. So I explained what happened, and she suggested over and over that I go to the hospital to get checked out, which I promptly shot down. I sure didn't want to sit for five or six hours in the ER waiting room when I felt fine!! I called Chris and left him a voice mail that went something like "Hey, got in a car wreck, but I'm okay, the Blazer is pretty messed up, though, call me when you can..."

A few hours later I started having contractions, although they weren't regular. By this time, it's pushing 9:00pm. I called my friend Marcie, who is an OB nurse in Houston, and asked her if I should go to the hospital (let's face it, it's night, our local hospital SUCKS, and I had a three year old already in bed asleep...). We talked at length, and it finally boiled down to her telling me to call my doctor in the morning to get checked out, but if I started to bleed, go the hospital immediately.

Chris finally called me back late and, speech slurred, asked if he should come home. I told him again and again to stay there, no worries, I'd be fine. I'd call him tomorrow after I saw the doctor. I went to bed, and continued to have irregular contractions through the night, but that was it. They weren't even big contractions, just minor stuff, nothing I couldn't handle!!

In the morning, I called in to work (I didn't have a car to get there, after all!). I called our insurance company. I called a tow truck to take the truck to a dealership to begin repairs. I called my doctor and made an appointment for 11:00. I called my babysitter who so graciously came to our house to pick up Dalton (thank you Betsy!!). I called a rental car company to arrange for another car. My sister showed up to continue to paint the outside of our house. So mind you, I'm still having minor, irregular contractions FOR HOURS before I can get to the doctor. I talk to Chris again, and reassure him that he does not need to come home (I am such an idiot!!).

Then I realize I have no way to get to the rental car place, so I call a girl that I work with and she comes and gets me and takes me to the rental place (thanks, Lindsey!!). And finally make my way to Fayetteville to the doctor.

I was texting my boss through all of this, apologizing for not getting to work on time. I was told later by another girl that my boss, at the time, said it was fine as long as I didn't have the baby, yet, because I hadn't yet trained the people that were going to cover my job while on maternity leave (why, yes, he is a jerk, thanks for noticing!)

So I get to the doctor and they hook me up to a monitor, and they confirm that I am having contractions. What I didn't know, though, is that they were regularly spaced contractions, I just didn't feel them all. So they tell me that I have to stay for 30 minutes on the monitor. So I sit and wait. Thirty minutes roll by, and they come in and tell me that I am still having very regular contractions every two minutes or so, and that want me to check into triage, where they will start an IV and give me some meds to try to stop the contractions.

So up to triage I go!! I call Chris, and again we argue on whether he should come home, and (again) I tell him, stay there! It's your last trip, you're having fun, I'm fine...

HA!

So I get my IV and my meds started...Lindsey calls me from work, and I tell her what's going on. Bless her heart, she decides that I shouldn't have to sit there at the hospital by myself, so she arranges to get off work to come up there. She also goes by my house to get my phone charger (as it's slowly dying!) and tell my sister what is going on. Finally, my first (girl) knight in shining armour arrives!

So we've been sitting in this hospital triage room for three hours or so, IV slowly dripping, when the nurse comes in and tells me that they are speeding up the IV drip and I should get to leave in 45 minutes or so. YAY! Not five minutes later, the doctor comes in (not my doctor, the on call doctor), and decides to do an exam real quick before they discharge me (a great plan, right?). Now, let's recap...ten minutes ago I was told that I can leave in 45 minutes...). She says: "Well, you're dilated to four, and 80% effaced. You can't go home, we're checking you in to labor and delivery." I'm sorry, can someone please pick my jaw up from the floor? WHAT?!?!?!?

And that's when I lost it. :) I start crying. Because all this time Chris could have been on his way home....and Dalton is at the sitter, who's going to pick him up?....and my dogs and cats need to be fed, and medicated, and who's going to do that? I have no clothes, I have nothing with me but a cell phone, charger (thanks to Lindsey!) and my purse. At that, Lindsey starts making phone calls for me...she calls my best friend Heather (whose husband is with Chris in Colorado). And then I'm moved upstairs....to Labor and Delivery. CRAP!

We get all checked in up there. It's now approximately 5:00ish (I honestly don't remember the exact time). I call Chris to update him. It is now officially decided that he will get on the next flight home, and the guys with him can just drive our car home. The first flight out doesn't arrive in NW Arkansas until almost midnight. But you know what? It doesn't matter, because I'm still in denial. I'm NOT having a baby. It doesn't matter what time his flight comes in, because I'm NOT in labor.

A nurse comes in and gives me a steroid shot to try to speed up Jackson's lung development. The plan is to increase the meds they are giving me to try to stop labor, so that they can make it to 24 hours from now, so they can give a 2nd steroid shot. Meanwhile, the monitor showing my contractions is going crazy... What's that you say? I'm having BIG HUGE contractions every minute or so? Phooey. I can't feel them, so it must not be happening. I am NOT having this baby.

Heather arrives at the hospital. Now, the next little bit is very blurry to me, it all happened so fast. Heather and Lindsey decided to possibly go get something to eat...or maybe Heather left to get something for both of them, and Lindsey stepped to the hall to call her husband to see if he could pick Chris up at the airport and bring him here. I can't remember. But I remember that both of them are out of the room, and a nurse and the doctor come in for another exam. And the conversation went a little something like this:
Doctor: "I see you're having big, regular contractions..."
Me: "Am I?"
I think I may have just heard her snort a laugh...
Doctor: "Well, you're dilated to 8 and 100% effaced."
Me: "So, I guess I'm not going home tonight, am I?" At this point, I'm still in denial, even after hearing that last part....I really thought it could still be stopped!!
Definite laugh out loud from the doctor...
Doctor: "Um...no. We'll begin prepping you for surgery right now...the anesthesiologist will be in shortly with paperwork for you to sign."
Me: "What? But my husband's plane doesn't land for another five hours. Can't this wait?"
Doctor: "No, this can't wait. This baby is coming now, and we need to do the surgery."
Now I'm outright sobbing. I'm terrified. What?!? How the hell am I going to surgery without Chris? Are they saying now, as in right now?? Who's going to keep Dalton? Who's going to let my dogs out? Who's going to feed the cats? I had told my sister when she was done painting to just leave...
They leave, and Heather and Lindsey walk in, and find me scrambling for my phone to make calls while sobbing and hiccuping with snot running all over my face. Those poor girls... Lindsey calls Chris to update him while Heather calls my mom, I think... I call a friend, Ruth, and ask her to go to my house to take care of the dogs and cats.

Funny insertion here...all my dogs and cats eat different food (yes, seven different kinds) and all three dogs take meds for different ailments. I told Ruth to go there NOW and call me back and I would walk her through everything. When she calls, she says, "What's with all the extra cats in your garage?" Um, what?

CRAP! I completely forgot that another friend, Jill, was getting married the next day and that I had arranged for her to drop off her five or six foster kittens for me to care for while she was on her honeymoon!! She had a key to the house (for emergencies) and when I wasn't home when she came, she just dropped them off according to "the plan". OOPS!

So I tell Ruth there are separate instructions for all of them that Jill left, and then walk her through what she needs to feed and medicate with all of mine. Meanwhile, the nurse has come back in and is checking IV lines and giving me meds, while I'm on the phone, Lindsey's on the phone, and Heather's on the phone. What a sorry bunch we are!! I also call the sitter, and (*sob, sob, hiccup*) ask her if Dalton can stay overnight, which of course he can (Betsy--you are a lifesaver, and I hope to one day get to repay you for all you did for us during this time!!).

Then I get my anesthetic, and off we go! It was decided that Heather would be in the operating room with me, and Lindsey would remain behind to make additional calls.

(HA! I just remembered another funny tidbit....we had planned to have a girl's game night that night (at Heather's house) since our husbands were all out of town drinking it up at the stupid beer fest...when Heather said she was coming to the hospital I said "But what about game night?" I am so retarded!)

I am so proud of Heather for sitting there with me, holding my hand, as the sight of blood isn't too high on her list. And when Jackson made his grand entrance? I remember looking at him, and closing my eyes, and I heard Heather say "He's beautiful" and she cried!! Heather cries at NOTHING. I've known her for over 15 years, and I've never seen her cry.

Jackson Christopher Bane was born on Friday, October 10, 2008, at 8:44pm. He was 5lb, 9oz, and 18 inches long. His lungs were not fully developed. He could breathe, but not well. He didn't know how to suckle or swallow. He was taken to the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU).

Luckily, the girls were able to get ahold of Chris just before he got on his plane to tell him all the details, and that we were both doing pretty well. I can barely remember what he looked like when I saw him in the operating room. I was in recovery for a while, and then taken back to my (new) room. Calls were made left and right. And for some odd reason, I was wired. I wish that I had slept, but I couldn't.

Chris finally arrived, and Lindsey's husband brought him to the hospital. Robert also had the good sense to bring a camera for us (you guys are great!!). Chris, Robert, Lindsey, and Heather all got to go see Jackson through the window. I did not. Robert also had gone to the store to get clothes for the baby (which was so thoughtful!!)...Chris didn't get there until either just before or after midnight. The first decent look I got at the baby was on the camera that Robert brought.

Jackson, meanwhile, was in the NICU. He was on oxygen. They put in a feeding tube. All that jazz. :) On Saturday, I finally got to see him, after he was 24 hours old. Dalton did NOT get to come to the hospital because he had gotten a little cold. With Jackson's lungs being under developed, we were taking no chances. Also on Saturday, I got to pumping to that they would have something to put down that feeding tube. We did not get to hold him until Sunday I think? I do remember going in to the NICU for the first time to see him in person...I remember thinking he was so tiny...they had the feeding tube through his nose (because he kept pulling it out when it went through his mouth), he had his oxygen. He had all these lines and leads and just everything attached to him. But he was perfect.

I was kept at the hospital until the following Tuesday, then I was discharged. Without my baby. By this point, Jackson had learned to suckle using a pacifier, and I was breast feeding one feeding a day, and using the feeding tube for the other feedings. But I had pumped enough milk that they had a TON of it stored in the freezer already. So we left on Tuesday. And it was horrible. When we went home that night (which was a horrible ride, by the way...my incision was hurting something very very bad!!)...we went to Betsy's to pick up Dalton, then home. Betsy had been a doll and made us homemade chicken and dumplings to take home for dinner. We got home, Chris set me up with dinner in the recliner (Dalton had already eaten), set Dalton up with cartoons, and then he went to the pharmacy right down the road to fill my pain meds. By this point, it's about 7:30 pm. As soon as Chris walked out that door, I broke down. It was so horrible to come home without Jackson. By the time he got back, I was a big blubbering mess. He asked what was wrong, and of course I told him nothing. He asks if my incision hurt, and I said no (which it was on freaking fire, but whatever...)

I couldn't eat. So I decided to go in and pump. When we were in the hospital, we got to use one of those nice hospital grade Medela pumps, and I was pumping 6-8 ounces of milk every four hours. We had discussed renting one because who knew how long it would be before he got to come home. But we decided that I could use my First Years brand one, that it would be fine. WRONG. What a giant piece of crap! I went to the bedroom, and pumped, and got less than 1/2 a stupid ounce of milk. So of course that set me off again, and I was sobbing and blubbering, and saying "How the hell can I feed him if this pump doesn't work!!" Basically, it boiled down to Chris doping me up with pain meds until I cried my self to sleep. Pathetic, right?

Now don't get me wrong...I know a lot of people don't ever get to bring their babies home. And there isn't anything that I can imagine that would be harder than losing a child. Whether it be in utero, during birth, or at any age, I cannot even fathom what it would be like to lose a child. Ever. And I hope to never have to know what it feels like. But at this point in my life, leaving Jackson behind in that hospital is the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

For the next seven days, we went to the hospital during the day. Dalton went to Betsy's, and we went to the hospital for the feedings. We were able to be there for the 10am, 1pm, and 4pm feedings. All other feedings were done with my stored breast milk. The reason we chose those feeding times is that we wanted to still keep Dalton's schedule as close to normal as we could. So he still went to the sitter in the morning, and we picked him up around 5:30 as we usually did.

The hospital was at least a 1/2 hour drive for us (3/4 to 1 hour during rush hour). So on the first couple of days, my sister Ann let us use her house between feedings so that I could rest. (Her house is only 5 minutes from the hospital). One day, we found other stuff to do...went and got new phones, then went to the mall and actually got my hair cut like I intended! On Saturday and Sunday, we had no where to go, and Dalton was home with Chris, and I wasn't allowed to drive yet (which at that point I could barely even walk), so we arranged for multiple people to drive me up there for the feedings. Then we would drive back, and I'd have about one hour before needing to leave for the next feeding. I was so exhausted, and at one point, the nurses even told me to skip a feeding so that I could get some rest. But I just couldn't help thinking...even though Jackson was eating and mostly breathing okay, what if I skipped that one feeding, and something happened?? And I wasn't there for him? What if, what if, what if...

It was so hard to go in there and see him, but not get to really snuggle him because he had all these wires still attached. Jackson stayed in the NICU for a solid twelve days before he got to come home. Seven days after I had come home. But he passed his car seat test, we took a mandatory CPR class, and he came home. And it was wonderful!

Jackson--I love you more than you will ever know. Your Daddy loves you, and big brother Dalton loves you, and you're just the best thing ever. Everything that we went through just makes you that much more special. Even though you're stubborn as all get out, we love you so much!! It amazes me how far you've come, and how far you'll go in the future.
Love-
Mommy