Meeting our Son

I didn't shower that night. I just sat on the couch watching the Sound of Music. Corey had made a trip to Wal-Green's to get me a breast pump so I could start lactating. I didn't want to dry up because my baby wouldn't be nursing right away. He came back with a hand-held model (they didn't have an electric one in the store.) He went into the kitchen and began to boil the parts as prescribed in the instructions. As Julie Andrews was singing in her Abbey, I heard another sound coming from the kitchen. I looked behind me from the couch and saw steam rising from the boiling pot, with Corey's head in the middle of the heat. His hands were on the counter top and his head was bowed, shoulders shaking from his audible sobs. He was letting it all go. He had spent all day worrying, not having any control over anything that happened, just being an innocent bystander as his wife and baby went through a traumatic ordeal. All he could do was watch. And now, he was releasing, tears tumbling into the bubbling pot of breast pump parts. I felt for him, but there was nothing I could do. I just had to let him cry, to let it all out. No pat on the shoulder or hug would work, just silence and solitude.

The next morning, after sleep and breakfast, Corey and I headed up the canyon to Flagstaff to meet our new baby.

"What about Adam?" Corey asked in the car as we wound our way around twists and turns.

"Why Adam?" I asked, curious about his suggestion.

"Because when I was watching him get hooked up to all those tubes and IV's they told me to talk to him. So, since he didn't have a name, I just said, 'Hey, little man. You're doing great, little man.' Adam means 'man'."

"It's a thought. We'll put it on the table, how about that?" I replied. I wanted to do more research about the meaning of names before I decided on one. I wanted his name to reflect who he was, or his birth story somehow. We continued discussing names, but didn't decide on anything definite.

When we arrived in Flagstaff, we first checked into the family house across the street from the hospital. It was cheaper than any hotel, and it also provided a complimentary shuttle 24 hrs a day to and from the hospital. After that we needed to eat something. It had been a few hours since breakfast, and we knew that when we went to see our son, we didn't want to have to leave him to go get food. So we did grocery shopping for the house and ate lunch before FINALLY seeing our infant.

We made our way into the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) and found the door locked. We had to use a phone to call inside and tell them who we were so they could open up the door for us. I was glad to see that security was so tight. It wasn't like any Joe off the street could just come in and see our baby. They also made us wash our hands and use sanitizer as well as put on a face mask before going any further than the front desk. We were lead to the enclosed crib of our unnamed baby boy.

There he was, pink, tiny, and covered in wires. He had a tube going into his belly button, a wire taped to his toe, a nasal cannula for oxygen and a nasal/gastric (NG) tube running from his nose down to his tummy. On top of all that, he had goggles on to keep the ultraviolet light from his billiruben blanket from damaging his eyes.

My eyes saw him, but my brain didn't register, "this is your baby". It was just some kid. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to bond with him. The nurse was explaining what each of the wires and tubes did for our son, but I wasn't really listening. I was just trying to wrap my mind around what I was seeing.

Because he was sleeping, she didn't want to wake him up. But she did open up the "lid" to let us put our hands on him, each in turn. She said that firm, steady pressure was best for him during sleep. I let Corey be the first to touch him. Carefully, he laid both his hands on his son, practically covering up his whole body with both hands because he was so small. Then it was my turn. I touched my baby for the first time. Nothing. No maternal instinct kicking in, no magic, no flutters in my tummy, just a very detached feeling. Mostly I was taken by how tiny this little human was.

While we were "meeting" our son, the hospital had called the social worker to come meet with us. As it was the 29th and all applications for state aide had to be in by the end of the month, time was of the essence. We were called away from our son to meet with this woman in the NICU waiting room. She told us all about all the paperwork we had to fill out and gather up to apply for state aide. It's a good thing that we made the deadline. By the time our baby was released, we would have accrued over $250,000.00 in hospital bills. The helicopter ride from Cottonwood to Flagstaff alone cost $17,000.00.

After we met with the social worker, Corey had to leave me by myself in Flagstaff. The call came in that our loan was processed and we could come pick up our "new" car in Cottonwood. I'm not quite sure why it couldn't wait until the next day, but Corey decided to go back down to Cottonwood and pick up our car. That left me alone in Flagstaff with no transportation except the shuttle to the family house.

Our son did wake up before Corey left, so that meant that he got to hold him. Then it was my turn. I was told that we could only hold him a few times a day because the stress of transferring him from crib to arms was very taxing on his still developing body. As I sat in the chair, holding my son for the first time, I felt him move. And then it clicked. I knew that movement. That was the same movement I felt inside my uterus when he was in there. This was my baby, Hallelujah!