Here in a Hurry, Rhys Man

My darling Rhys,
You made your arrival to the world yesterday, July 24 at 2:58 pm in what was quite a surprise turn to your mommy and daddy.  You were 18.5 inches long and weighed in at 6 lbs. 2 oz (with adorable little ears and your daddy's long skinny feet).  As much as I had dreamed about your arrival and wished it would be soon, I must say that you made it clear that you needed to get here in a hurry and we are truly thankful for a discerning doctor.

Yesterday I was scheduled for a routine visit at 11:15 with my doctor, and since I wasn't feeling like much had changed, I honestly told my co-workers that I hated to go, be told nothing was happening, and just have to come back in a week.  Our brief visit was almost over when he asked me if I had felt you moving much, and when I thought about it, I realized that I hadn't.  He said just to be cautious that he wanted to monitor your heartbeat for a little while, so we switched rooms and they hooked me up.  For some reason, your heartbeat was difficult to track for very long, and it didn't have as many ups and downs as he expected.  His exact words were, "I am not impressed" and he wanted me to immediately go to the hospital (just down the street) and have a more in depth monitoring where they would do a sonogram to see your movements as well as tracking your heartbeat.

To be perfectly honest, I told your daddy not to worry and that he didn't need to come to the hospital yet.  He was enjoying some golf with some fellow football coaches and I sort of felt like insisting that he come would somehow turn the afternoon into a big affair.  I suppose it was my way of keeping myself calm and trying to be in control of the situation.  So I headed in for the second round of monitoring and hoped that it would be good results.

After 30 minutes of watching you on the sonogram and tracking your heartbeat, both of my nurses did not seem pleased.  My amniotic fluid was low, which was probably restricting your movement and adding stress.  Your heart rate actually dipped very low at one point when I had a contraction (which I didn't feel at all) because without the surrounding fluid it just contracted right on you, sweetheart.  When the nurses passed along the info to my doctor, he was very concerned and came to speak to me in person.   He said he did not think you would tolerate labor and that we needed to get you out immediately.

He was already preparing to do another c-section and wanted me prepped and ready immediately so that he could make sure you were okay.  I felt like it wasn't supposed to happen in such a frantic way and your poor daddy got another phone call and had to drop everything and come as fast as he could.  Even Grammy got a surprise call when I only had a second to explain the situation to her.  All she said was, "Okay, I am coming!"

The nurses got me checked in and dressed quickly and I didn't even get to see Bo before going into the operating room.  They kept assuring me that he would be escorted back as soon as he arrived, but eventually, my doctor didn't even want to wait for my epidural to finish kicking in and they decided to just put me completely under and intubate me.  Unfortunately, when that decision was made, Daddy wasn't allowed to even come in the room.  He said he was so worried, stuck out in the hallway, and only got to see you as they whisked by on their way to the NICU.

But here is the beauty of the story, the truth that makes it evident to me that you are our miracle protected by God.  We were told today that your condition was so serious, that had we not caught onto the problems and taken quick action, even a few more days passing could have resulted in us losing you.  Had I tried to have a standard delivery, your body might not have been able to handle the stress.  It was truly God's hand that orchestrated me having a seemingly routine visit and a stirring in mine and my doctor's hearts to make sure you were fine.  So many things could have been different in a tiny way and had a tragic result.

Here you are, my little bear, fighting and getting stronger.  You had a dangerously low amount of red blood cells due to a rare problem of my antibodies not matching up to yours.  You also had to be intubated and put on high oxygen levels, as well as put under 5 lamps to try to lower your bilirubin count.  It broke my heart to see you with so many tubes and cords stuck all over you because I just wanted to hold you in my arms and cuddle you close to me.  So far, I have only been able to touch you one time.

But in the words of our dear friend Dr. Keith, all the things you are up against are fixable.  Your body is not damaged in any way that you cannot repair, and you showed truly amazing progress today.  Daddy said you were making baby steps, and Keith assured us it was more like a giant leap.  Over the course of the past 36 hours, you have improved so much that they took out the breathing tube so you only have a little one in your nose and are doing all the work on your own.  Your oxygen levels just kept getting stronger and stronger and they were confident that you could keep fighting.

Mommy has been trying to keep a good schedule of pumping all the tiny amounts of milk that I can for you.  It seems like such a tiny amount that I was almost embarrassed to give it to your nurses, but they assure me that very little drop of this early milk is jam packed with important stuff for you and that it is exactly what you need right now.  You seemed really happy when Daddy was there for your evening feeding and went right to sleep after you had those precious few drops.

Right now, we are continuing to pray that you continue to improve just at the pace you should.  Both Daddy and I are anxious about me being discharged and you still needing to be here, so we will see what the doctors say tomorrow.  We want to continuously be thankful for you and trust that God is going to be your healer and strength.  We love you so much and can't wait to kiss your sweet face and hold you close.

Mama