When I started this blog… I was attempting to survive the first of two of the darkest places I’ve ever been mentally and spiritually. In surviving the loss of a tiny baby, I began writing this blog as therapy… a place to vent, a place to talk, a place to distract myself… And as time continued it became so much more than that. This blog became a way to connect with family and friends far away. A place to share my life with anyone who wants to read it. A place to continue to vent and clear my head, but also a place to shout my joys and celebrate life! And when Mark and then Micah was born… I did that… on here. I celebrated their lives, and shared the story of their births on the blog.
I noticed last year in doing Matthew’s four year old party postings that I’d never typed up his birth story all in one spot. I’ve shared it in pieces to several, but I’ve never written it all down.
So, as my “newborn baby” is now FIVE YEARS OLD… I want to tell the story of his birth. It’s a shaky story. The details are very fuzzy (and not just for time’s removal of them, you’ll read) but it’s a good story. The story where I met the first of my three sons. …
< And, since the details are fuzzy, I asked Nic (my best friend/honorary sister) to fill in some of her own memories here, helping me to remember my own. So when you get to it, the bold is from Nic’s pen, er, keyboard. It’s taken a little while for her and I both to write this story, but I’m pleased to get it on here for him to have someday to read how he was born …saved…>
Matthew’s gender was a surprise.
This shocked most people (and the fact we did two more surprises [if you’ve been a follower for long know] shocked most people all the more). Everyone wanted to know what we were having, everyone wanted to know if I knew what we were having… but I’m getting ahead of myself. This may be the problem with writing it now.
I’ll try to start over.
People often cringe when I begin to tell my story of how Matthew was born. So brace yourself….
…I was nine months pregnant. Five days away from my due date, Thursday morning, June 22nd 2006… and I fell in the shower trying to get my large tree trunks legs out of the bath. I of course screamed and Jamie came running in. I had managed to turn my body so that the tummy didn’t land on the tub, but my head smacked the wall and my leg was cut somehow smacking the faucet. Trying to remember right now I can see myself laying there thinking that I must have injured him. I remember sitting on the bed, trying to call the doctor. At that time, I’d just started my relationship with Kendra but she was already “my” midwife. I remember she wasn’t in. And I was to come in straight away and see Lisa, the other midwife at the practice.
I got to the doctor’s office within the next 40 minutes or so. Jamie went on to work expecting me to call him later/soon with an update.
Later/soon was less than 30 minutes later when I was driving the five minutes from the doctor’s office to the hospital, telling him that we were having a baby that day. My heart rate had elevated sky high (I can’t remember the numbers now) and they were sending me to be induced. Lisa would check on me after I’d gotten settled and start the process. Kendra would be with me in the morning. Okay. I can do this. Okay.
Ha.
Like five attempts at an IV and 1000 family history questions later and NO one on the whole freakin floor believing I didn’t know what I was having, I finally got underway. I recall one nurse coming in… OH! I think the u/s tech actually, I remember now, I was to have an u/s to make sure everything was good in there and it was. She asked “so what are you having” and me still in panic mode, not really realizing she meant girl or boy, I say “oh a baby!” She said, “yes, the baby, is it girl or boy?” I told her that I didn’t know and she asked a couple times. She was good though, and said “the baby” when referring to the ultrasound.
Going back to the story… Jamie had got some tape and we taped up my focus verses up across from the bed and then we waited for someone to do something. I remember we did cervidil at some point. Maybe around 7pm-ish. At some point in the night I had to be put on oxygen, Matthew wasn’t doing well. I really don’t remember much of this at all. But as the contractions grew, his tolerance lessened when finally with every contraction I had, his heart rate started dropping. I was told nothing. At some point in the morning… I’m going to say between 6 and 7:30 am, people started coming and going quickly in and out of the room. Somewhere between 7 and 7:30 I was given a shot to stop all contractions and was told I would be having surgery. I remember getting on the phone with my mom and before I could finish telling her I was going to surgery, I was being wheeled down the hallway. Everything happened so fast. And yet there were also moments that seemed to stand perfectly still.
I don’t remember times well because I was getting my details from afar and in the midst of trying to rush to pack, but I feel like they started the Cervadil later than 7? And was there Pitocin, too? Or maybe they just talked about that and didn’t get to it. (I don’t think we ever got to Pitocin, just talked about starting it in the am) I know that when I got on the plane, at like 4 or 5 am my time, I thought things were just slowly getting started and that I would make it there with no problem at all, but that’s about as detailed as my memory gets…
I remember lying on the bed inside the OR, screaming for Jamie for what felt like an hour but was really probably 15 minutes. No one explained that Jamie would have to wait outside until I was fully prepped for surgery and then he’d come in. I remember a friend of mine at the time worked in the ICU and she’d come up to check on me, to find me being prepped for surgery, got scrubbed up and came in the room with Kendra. I was a sandwich at one point, Kendra and Susan both pressed against me holding on to me. I remember Susan saying something to Kendra about sorry for being in her space, but she wasn’t leaving. God I miss her. and Kendra, thus began Kendra and my closeness. Kendra just stayed. She did what she does best, and she held my hand, and stayed. I’ve been through some crazy things and through it all, Kendra stays put, holding my hand, being an anchor for me.
And when we were all ready, the doctor let Jamie in (I’d learned later that Susan had left to get Jamie some scrubs and help him get suited up) and my darling baby made his arrival at 8:51am on Friday morning, June 23rd 2006. God had given us a boy, Matthew Christopher Hobbs! Matthew weighed 6 pounds and 13 ounces. He was so tiny and so precious. Oh and had SO much hair. He had this precious front cowlick from day one. (and I still love it)
I don’t remember this, but people have told me that I made it clear that I wanted the doctor to tell Jamie what the baby was… and that I wanted JAMIE and Jamie only to tell me. And he did. Jamie was able to tell me that “Matthew was here.” I wish I could remember that, but I don’t. I have the memories of what Jamie and Nic have told me. (A theme I carried to each baby’s arrival—Daddy has been the one to tell me who was born each time).
And that brings me to Nic… who because of the previous day’s events, had booked the first flight out of KC for Friday morning to be to the hospital long before an induced baby should have made his or her arrival… however, she’d missed my dear boy’s first cry by moments. When she landed, we were out of surgery and when she called Jamie, she had to hear him tell her that I’d had a c-section and the baby was already there.
I don’t remember what time I landed, but I know he had been born within 20 minutes of it so you can calculate it there. (So around 8:30am) I remember basically running through the airport, trying to get to somewhere that my cell would have service, which was up the escalators and heading for the rental car desk. I didn’t go to the luggage area because I just had a carry on. While I was waiting in line to pick up my reserved car, I was able to reach Jamie’s cell. I asked “How’s she holding up” and he got quiet and I remember my heart rate sped up in a massive quantity. Just as I was to freak out he said “Well, things have changed while you were in the air. It’s ok now, don’t freak out, but things got scary and they had to do a c-section. The baby is here.” I remember that by the time he said “don’t freak out” I had tears running down my face and I was just looking around the airport feeling TOO FAR even though I was within 30 minutes of the hospital. I asked if the baby was ok and he said “Yes, he’s fine. We have a son, it’s Matthew Christopher.” I remember thinking that I needed to not sound upset because he was an excited new daddy and deserved to be congratulated… even though 90% of me was beside myself worrying about you and being in utter disbelief that I had tried SO hard and still missed it. So I congratulated him and said I’d be there as soon as I could. I got my rental car and sped through Atlanta trying to not get lost and to keep from crying. I succeeded at the first part…
I remember I was in recovery for what felt like years. Years. Lots of years. But besides that I don’t remember any of the next part. What I’ve been told is that I kept asking over and over for Nic. I was upset that I didn’t wait to have Matthew until after she’d arrived. Right now I can’t remember if this is actually my memory or someone else’s telling me, but I was screaming at the nurses for cutting my toes off. I remember they told me that I couldn’t see the baby, I couldn’t leave recovery until I’d been able to move my toes. Well. I couldn’t feel my toes, I couldn’t feel my legs. I was convinced that someone had cut off and removed my toes. I hadn’t seen my baby (that I remember) and I don’t remember seeing my husband or moving to that room, I hadn’t seen my best friend yet and seriously, SOMEONE HAD CUT OFF MY TOES!
When I arrived and got to the waiting room, I barely got seated before I saw Jamie. I went to hug him and see how you were and he said “She’s in and out of the anesthesia still.” I started to sit down with his family and he said “She wants you.” I kind of stutter stepped because I had just been told that no one could go in other than Jamie… but he just kind of gave me a look and turned around, so I followed him. When I walked in, you were sleeping but not peacefully, I remember you seemed agitated. Jamie headed back out with some comment about how he knew you’d be ok for a bit and I just held your hand. You turned your head to me, opened your eyes and burst into tears. You managed to gush out “They wouldn’t let me wait for you, I tried to make them wait for you” and then we were both crying. I managed to convince you that it was ok that he came before I got there and I didn’t leave your side until they were ready to wheel you out. I remember at one point wishing I had seen the baby [I saw a picture on someone’s phone or camera, but hadn’t seen him yet], but I decided that I didn’t need to see him in person before you did….
At some point though, I was released from the recovery and finally united with my new son.
And a stream of visitors. 
And you’d think all was well. Whew. We survived an emergency c-section. Found out later that the cord had been wrapped around Matthew’s neck or shoulders. I forget…
I believe it was neck, that’s my recollection. Wrapped 2x, to be specific.
(Dear God, I don’t remember that! Really?! Then it was a miracle that we did the c-section emergency or not!)
God’s plans are ALWAYS better than our own. Even if we didn’t know we needed something to happen not the way we wanted… Having a c-section probably saved Matthew’s life. It was by the grace of God that I didn’t try to push him out. Yay for us!
However, in anyone else’s world that would be true. (the Yay for us! part)…
Instead in the next some number of hours, we’d found out that what they gave me for pain… I’m apparently allergic to. I remember being on the phone with my mom and all of the sudden, the room started spinning and I’d passed the phone. Bugs were climbing on me and were crawling all over the walls. I was so sick to my stomach, I thought I was dying. In a matter of moments I went from super tired but fine to freaky Friday’s horror show. I can hear my mom asking what they’d given me, telling Nic on the phone that Kris gets ill with Percocet.
Yes. You had passed the phone to me and then just kind of slumped over sideways and started slurring your words and feeling horrible. Your Mom was telling me that Kris was allergic to Percocet so Jamie found a nurse or called the nurse or something and I yelled at the nurse that there was a family history of Percocet allergies.
Low and behold, that’s what I was given. Only ill is a nice word, nothing that truly described what happened to me. So, here’s this new mom, with this tiny baby (who is where at this point? in daddy’s arms? in the bassinet?) (I’m pretty sure that Jamie or I had him until you slumped and then I think we must have put him in the bassinet… Unless Sandy was still in the room and she had him….) who is literally fallen in half with pain. The nurse walks in and says “she needs to get up and use the bathroom.” She needs to what?! I thought the nurse was loony tunes. No way I could get up. No way. But, for whatever reason it worked, and once I had been to the bathroom, (sorry, if that’s TMI, but then why are you reading a birth story?) the hallucinations stopped and my meds were switched. Crazy huh?
And, if that wasn’t enough, given all the stress and anxiety, my blood pressure still hadn’t calmed down so not only was I on normal pain meds for a major surgery, I was also now on a magnesium sulfate drip for the next three days due to the high blood pressure. Bleck.
Needless to say, we were in the hospital for 5 or 6 days.
In those days I was molested by a lactation nurse, um learned how to breastfeed, and I am proud to say that at least we did something right. Matthew was a nursing champ!
It may have started roughly and went down hill but it ended beautifully, because when it was all over, I had the thing I wanted more than anything else, a sweet tiny baby in my arms.
And THEN we got to start our new happy life together.
And I’m so thankful for my tiny babe. I truly am. He has brought me such joy, such love. I never knew I could love something/someone so much before. There is nothing like the love of a mother and a newborn babe.
Thank you Lord, for my Matthew. Thank you for his safe arrival, bumps and all, he was perfect.
And now he’s five. How did this happen?
My tiny newborn babe is going to KINDERGARTEN in one week!
Thank you God for Matthew. My sweet boy. You are still Matthew. We haven’t ever shortened your name to Matt not for one moment of any times I’ve ever said your name are you Matt. You are my Matthew and what’s funny is that as people meet you they look at me and ask “Matthew?” Yup. Matthew. or at the doctor’s office or the dentist last week, it asks for a nickname. Nope just Matthew. I hope that as you enter school, you’ll keep your full name. I’m glad you are my Matthew. My tall man. My monkey boy. My first born son. Matthew.
Thank you Nic for helping me remember things I don’t remember.
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