Letter to my first-born son

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“When you were born at 27 weeks, I was scared. But when I first touched you our bodies were reunited, you dispelled all my fears and the chaos around us disappeared.”

Dear Cruz,

On the morning of January 11, 2015, I took a photo of my growing pregnancy coming out of my ownie. I was just a few days into my third and second trimester nausea, I felt amazing. All the problems I had were removed by the new look that my body takes on and the feeling that I am doing what I should be doing. Things can change quickly.

At noon the same day my the back started to hurt, but I think it was a normal part of the middle. It was getting late, and I was very tired. If I just closed my eyes and went to sleep I would know and feel better in the morning. I make one last trip to the bathroom and then I go to sleep. While in the bathroom I called your father, “I’m bleeding! ”We were rushed to the hospital in what seemed to be a downturn. Driving was difficult; I remember thinking about how my hand gripped the door of the riders’ side, the back pain turned severe pain.

the author wearing an onion with a pregnant belly pulls out

Image approved by the author

The hospital was quiet and large. Looking at the birth and delivery I looked for my health card as I told the nurses that I was 27 weeks pregnant and five days pregnant – I was bleeding. I handed my wallet to your father to get my card as he told me to bring it. The nurses were patient. I felt lost. He connected me to the unborn Doppler and we felt your heartbeat – your healthy, strong heart. Relief overtook me. Although the pain is getting worse, I think everything will be fine.

The doctor came in and quickly examined me to let me know that my limbs had been torn.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ve cut down to seven inches.”

“What does that mean?”

“You are pregnant.”

I think my body was scared. They tried to reduce the workload, but there was no stopping it. You were born less than 10 minutes after I was admitted to the hospital.

There was no connection between my body and brain at the time, but I remember hearing your cries a little before removing you.

My body was paralyzed, I failed you and now we were there with both pounds and 14 ouns of you fighting for your life.

“Does he have a name?” The doctor asked us. We decided we had three more months to find out. It was very early in the morning when your father looked at me and said, “His name is Cruz.” You have passed through our lives and whatever comes in the future, you too will pass.

As soon as you were born, he brought your father to see you. She was photographed to bring it to me, because I was not allowed to leave the maternity ward until the nurses confirmed that I was physically and mentally stable enough to move. The picture was of your beautiful little body in a Ziploc bag – a great way to treat your body temperature. You had a sticky tongue, your great personality is already shining.

Your eyes were almost completely unmixed and your ears are still on the ends of your head. You had cords connected to different parts of your body to test your heart as well as your breathing rate and oxygen levels.

You are about to be fed a tube in the future without notice. In front of you, you wore a small piece of cloth to help you get air and pressure from your underdeveloped lungs. By the time I was wheeled to see the skull it was turned into intubation because your lungs and body were too small to breathe on their own. We recently found out that you have blood in your lungs (blood is coming out of your lungs).

Looking at you, I was sad to know that you depended on machines and aliens to save you, all I had to do.

The nurse asked me if I wanted to hold your hand. I must have had looking fearfully into my eyes. He assured me it was all right. I had to hold you tight, not to hit you slowly because your skin was so thin that the massage was painful and painful. Your hand covered my mark and not much else. We thought your hair was dark but after you washed the sponge and blood was washed on your head to show off your beautiful hair.

The first 24 hours we received disseminate information it is possible and I give you permission to receive blood. We became accustomed to the procedure at NICU and learned to wash our hands correctly during surgery. Every day at 10:49 pm until the day you were released we celebrate that we were able to make another day. We were not told much about what to expect and we were encouraged not to think only of the future, but to do what is happening now.

We really enjoyed those early days. Every amazing event was a miracle – the first bowel movement, the first time you put on clothes, every minute you got it, the first time you took a bottle, the first time you breastfed. The biggest was the first time I caught you. You had nine days, still shaky, but stable enough to move. I was very nervous. You had wires and tubes everywhere. I sat down curiously, waiting for him to pick it up.

It took two nurses: one to handle and one to bring all the tubes and wires. As he lay on my chest, my mind went down to me, but I just kept quiet, afraid to move even a little and had a tube come out of its place. That time was good. Every minute I work I get perfect. Together, our bodies connect. You erased all my fears and made the chaos around us disappear. Lying on me, you can imitate what is in my body. With the rise and fall of my chest, your breathing moves, your oxygen supply improves and your heart rate stabilizes.

the author, her husband and child enter the house

Image approved by the author

As a family, we started living this crazy life at NICU. Every morning I leave a sealed bag with my breast milk to feed with a tube until you start sucking / swallowing whole newborns. Before feeding you wash your face with a gauze spray soaked in sterile water to wipe your eyes with a Q-tip to clean your mouth. We can take your heat from your armpits and flex it in your breath control, flexible arms and legs. Each time we changed the diaper, we tested it before discarding it to determine the fluid content and remove it.

On a rainy night, we would wait until the evening calm. We will fill a small metal bowl with warm water and remove your contact with the supervisors (this will be a very difficult / stressful time). With one hand left under your head and body we can dip you in water and put a towel around your abdomen to keep you warm. You love (and still do) your bath time. Nurses often report how amazing you are in the water. With your little eyes fixed on us, you enjoyed every moment of your leisure time, as we rubbed your head with soap.

All of this became strange. All ours. When you are old enough to wear clothes, I feel like every other woman is choosing beautiful little ones for their son.

Gradually, IVs and tubes began to disappear and ounces were acquired. The little noise in your heart, though not closed, was small enough to not be a concern. Your lungs stopped coming out and, after 11 days you were able to complete your training in mechanical engineering (CPAP). After four weeks you are on your own. Your sores (shortness of breath accompanied by low blood pressure bradycardia) stopped and you stopped drinking tea or coffee. Your feeding tape was removed and you were only fed with a bottle or breast.

It took 80 days, but you finally returned home! All the little fellows that was going back to the house where you were.

Your story is not easy, but it is yours and it has made you live today so for us, it is great.

Love,
Mothers





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