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| Baby with first signs of eye infection |
With the Internet flooded with
"Mommy Blogs", there is no shortage of women writing about what being
a mom means to them. These women gush about motherhood and describe how it is
the hardest yet most rewarding job on earth. And they are right.
Still there is room for more
stories. Motherhood is a similar journey, but every story is unique. Last year,
I became a mom for the second time. And that experience taught me what I am
made of...
The day before we were
scheduled to leave the hospital our aunt and I noticed that the baby had puss
coming out of his eye. Even though he kept getting cleared by the nursing
staff, I requested for him to get examined by the pediatrician. My concerns
were right. They diagnosed him with an aggressive eye infection. They whisked
him off to the NICU to undergo further examination and for testing. He was
there for over an hour by himself. While he was gone I waited, terrified.
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| Baby's first photo shoot |
I was brought to my knees. I had known him
for only two days and he had become my entire world. Indeed, he had me at the
first time I heard his heartbeat on the Doppler. My heart had become fuller
than I ever knew it could be. After I heard him cry, immediately upon being
born, I exhaled. I believed that I had done my job and done it well. I believed
that my greatest struggle in the coming days would be figuring out how to deal
with sleepless nights. I imagined joking about those sleepless nights like new
mothers do.
Who knew that I would have paid good money
to never have a good night sleep again if only my son would be healthy.
It was a shock. I had experienced an ideal
pregnancy. I had a natural childbirth. I delivered my son in two pushes. I say
this, not to brag, but to give you an idea of how unlikely it was for me to
have this type of complication. Everything had gone well. Most women would wish
for the kind of prenatal and labor and delivery experience that I had. It was
perfect…
And then, he was in the NICU hooked up to
machines receiving IV antibiotics and there was nothing I could do, but pray. I
wish that I had exhibited Christ like faith and said, "Father, if you are
willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done." Luke
22:42. Instead, my prayers were more fervent and specific, “Father, please bless
those caring for my son. Allow them to apply everything that they have learned
and diagnose him properly and identify the appropriate treatment. Please save
my son. I love him so much. He is the gift our family has been waiting for. We
need him.”
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| I loved him from the beginning |
I said a prayer like that several times
over the course of his NICU stay knowing that there are no guarantees. I work
in Health Care Risk Management. I understand better than anyone that many
parents lift up those same prayers and still don’t take their babies home. Sometimes,
you can know too much…
Fortunately, we were one of the lucky
families. They identified the type of bacteria that caused the infection, it
was E Coli. That meant the treatment was
straightforward. They never identified how he got it. I believe something got
in his eye at delivery. He was born immediately after they broke my water with
his eyes wide open. Childbirth can be a dirty experience. They determined that
the IV antibiotics he had been receiving had done their job. We were able to
take him home so long as we administered gentamicin eye drops.
It was serious until it wasn’t. We
experienced a miracle. We are blessed.
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| Our baby a year later happy, healthy, and causing mischief |
There were five days of uncertainty and I was scared...
The entire ordeal lasted five days. And
those five days changed me. It taught me clearly that there is nothing more important to me than my children. One night during his NICU stay the nurse called me and I heard my son crying in the background. She said, "R needs you. He's hungry." That's when I knew that my life and my happiness were inextricably connected to his.
It wasn't until he was discharged from the NICU that I was able to breathe again. It wasn't until then that my hope was renewed. After discharge, I was able to take my baby home, respond to his needs and endure those sleepless nights. This experience showed me how vulnerable I am and every mother is. We get the benefit of great love, which exposes us to the potential for great heartache. We do it gladly and with our whole heart. I will be forever grateful to my son for teaching me this lesson.
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