Butterfly Pod - 24, Becoming a Family of Four

Psalm 5:3 "In the morning Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait expectantly."

Waiting in expectation to see how the Lord is going to work out the days, moments, even seconds ahead. Laying requests before Him.....and leaving them there....waiting, watching, trusting, fearful yet comforted in the arms of a loving God who knows all and is in all.

Becoming a family of four or more was something Nathan and I had talked about pretty much since the moment our first was born, as moments after delivering our first son into this world, I looked up at him and said, "I could do that again." We were blessed to be able to conceive again and found out that we were expecting our second child on the morning of my husbands birthday in October 2015. We were absolutely thrilled  that God had granted us such a privilege to raise another child! I couldn't wait to walk this journey again after such a wonderful pregnancy and birth of our first son. In fact, I remember actually being excited to go through labor again. Yes, I am one of those unique women who just absolutely loves being pregnant, even if she's woefully sick for half the pregnancy.



Little did I know how different this pregnancy journey would be from the first. The 20 week ultrasound revealed that we were having a boy, much to my excitement and thrill! It also revealed that I had a condition known as placenta previa and in order to deliver naturally, this placenta would need to move at least 2cm in 8 weeks. 10 weeks later, there had not been enough of a change and I was transferred to a specialist who would schedule a c-section for me no later than 38 weeks along and I was put on a version of bedrest to both potentially help the placenta move and to prevent hemorrhaging. Note: My greatest fear in life, aside from drowning or being burned alive, was having a c-section. The sheer thought of the process sent me dizzy to the point of almost passing out, not to mention the fear of needles, drugs, and complications that can arise with this type of surgery. 

There we sat, husband, son, myself, and our little baby in utero, and I was stunned that this was going to be the path we would walk. And though we were still hopeful for a miracle to happen, I still rode home weeping and terrified for what this meant for myself and our little boy.

In the 10 weeks of waiting to see if the placenta would move (and it didn't move enough), I sought out Scripture for comfort. The book of Psalms was where my heart found peace. As I meditated on the words, I recorded specific verses to have with me in the operating room to either have read to me or to have memorized for comfort and peace. Though I found many verses that provided comfort and reminders of God's faithfulness, Psalm 5:3 was continually brought to mind throughout the time. Without actively trying, the words became engraved in my mind and over our situation. And though my fear still lingered, I kept coming back to this verse to find peace and rest from those fears.

At 34 weeks, we were cleared to travel back to my home in NE for my brother's high school graduation. Within 24 hours of being there I hemorrhaged at 1:00 am, landing me in the ER in the closest town, followed by a helicopter life flight to Lincoln, NE where they were equipped to handle both my potential emergency c-section and delivery of a 34 wk baby. In all of this hustle, bustle, fear, and being completely at the mercy of those around me, God brought peace to me in unique ways, one of them being the personal nurse I had on the helicopter flight. This nurse was the almost exact copy of my cousin in both looks and mannerisms, bringing me much needed calm and feelings of safety almost as though a family member was with me the entire flight.

Thankfully, we were able to come home to St. Louis several days later based on my stability. My sister came with us to be present as a babysitter for our 2 year old in the event that I should hemorrhage again....which I did, 12 hours after arriving home. I was admitted without options of release until baby boy made his entrance, hoping for another 2 weeks at best before they would deliver him, pending I didn't bleed again. I was a sitting duck, waiting for the next hemorrhage that would land me with an emergency c-section, i.e. general anesthesia, 6 minutes total and the baby is out type of situation.

A little over 12 hours after this admittance, my spotting mildly increased and the doctors decided that it was best to deliver our son now before things had the chance to take a life-threatening turn. He was not in stress, I had received steroid shots for his lungs, they could prep me fully with an epidural, and this could be a "calm" delivery instead of waiting for the inevitable hemorrhage.

In the intensity of the situation, the fears that swirled in my head for our son who would be 5 1/2 wks early, and the fact that I was now faced with my biggest fear and there was no other option, there was an immense peace in those moments of prepping. I remember listening to instructions, information, and plans for the delivery with a surreal sense of peace and a weird sense of relief. The relief mostly in that the intense stresses of the last week would finally be over and I would know that our son would be safe, well, more safe than he was in the womb. My body and emotions were so worn out from the stress of every moment and hour that passed not knowing if our son would make it to full term or not.

Caleb Jeremiah Olson was born to our family that night at 34.5 weeks gestation, weighing 5lbs 1oz. His lungs were developed enough to not require surfactant, but he had enough troubles otherwise including tachypnea (abnormal rapid breathing), bradycardia episodes (heart rate drops), failure to regulate temperature, and inability to nurse due to his breathing & heart problems. He was transferred to the NICU, Butterfly Pod, room 24 where he would have his own room where I would later join him.

Due to Caleb’s unstable breathing and heart rate, I was not allowed to hold him for 46 hours and for the first week of his life, he could only be held during care times to minimize bradycardia episodes due to too much stimulation. I still remember the night I made my way from my hospital room down to his NICU room to deliver some hard earned drops of colostrum…. Mere drops that I had bruised myself over trying to squeeze every drop possible out for my little warrior. As I weakly walked in with my wheelchair, the nurse on staff that night had just begun his care time, taking temps, changing diaper, and checking all iv’s, breathing assistance, and monitoring devices. I passed off the milk I’d expressed and she asked if I would like to give him his first feeding. I had been told that it would be at least another day before he would be able to have any milk in his feeding tube and before I would be allowed to hold him, but she was confident that things were stable enough that we could begin that night. After combining all of the drops I had expressed in 48 hours into one 5ml feeding for him, the max he was allowed anyway. I slowly administered the milk to him via syringe through his feeding tube, 3 ticks on the syringe per 5 min.

Following that, she asked if I’d like to also hold him. I was speechless. She shared her opinion that we both needed the skin-to-skin; for me, I needed it to stimulate milk production and to help with post-birth trauma and blues, and for him, he needed it for bonding, and as an encouragement and stabilizing force that only a mother can create within a baby. 48 hours after his birth, I tenderly held all 4lb 10oz of Caleb, cords and all. The 15 minutes that followed of skin-to-skin time were some of the most precious minutes in my life, holding his tiny body against mine, praying over him, singing songs to him, and telling him over and over how much I loved him. That night, my milk came in after holding him and the next day, Caleb’s condition had improved as well.

First time holding Caleb.
Never want to let you go.

Life in the NICU was very stressful on our entire family. While I spent my days and nights at the hospital, pumping around the clock and spending as much time as was allowed holding Caleb and participating in his care times, Nathan became Mr. Mom at home to our toddler son. O and I forgot to mention that we were also trying to sell our house at the time too, with daily showings to prep for amidst this too (which we ended up staying in after all,after things on the buying end fell through).We both felt way in over our heads and totally at the mercy of our Lord for strength to make it through each exhausting day. Josiah loved the fun things that the hospital had to offer, but it really put a cramp in his routine and at times his attitude as well. I found myself defeated and torn having to choose how I spent my time each day, only being able to be with one or the other at a time, always feeling as though I was failing the son I wasn’t with at the time. Nathan’s and my daily conversations largely composed of NICU jargon regarding TPN numbers, cannulas, CPAP levels, oxygen support, NG tube feedings in mL, bradycardia and tachypnea episode counts, and how many grams Caleb gained or lost that day. Special thanks to my sister for her time helping out for a little over a week amidst all of this craziness. She had an intimate view into our situation and we were so grateful to have here with us.

The one night I spent at home while Caleb was
 in the hospital. Lots of emotions.

A quick trip home between care times to bake
cookies with this handsome man.

     

An awesome play are on the Ronald McDonald floor of the hospital.
We spent many many hours here and in the Ronald McDonald house.

Family nap time on the NICU couch.

                               

 


Now, even though our time in the NICU was difficult, I have an intense fondness towards our time there as well. I grew to know the meaning of each beep, alarm, and machine noise around the NICU. The smell of the soap is forever burned in my mind and tied to the emotions there. I got to see and talk with other moms who were in the same boat as I. Some of us even crossed paths multiple times daily as we slowly made our ways to our sweet babes, each day making progress ourselves, transitioning from being wheeled down, to slowly walking a wheelchair down, to the slow no-wheelchair swagger full of pain-filled motivation to fight for our healing progress just like our babes just down the hall, to the confident though still painful walk down in real clothes upon discharge as we made the move from our own room to sharing a room with our sweet babes. I also came to deeply love the NICU and the nurses who so carefully and intentionally cared for our son.

Karla, Caleb's night nurse! She is the
one who blessed this mama with
my first time "feeding" and holding Caleb.
So thankful to have gotten a picture of the
two of them together.

And let me just say, one of the most beautiful encouragements to me was how well-kept the nurses kept his bed, cords, and swaddle. Seriously, some of those nurses swaddled him magnificently, like I’m not even kidding, it was some of the most perfectly folded and beautifully tucked-in swaddle jobs, especially with all of those cords! I loved watching them interact with Caleb, talking to him and handling him as if he were the most normal baby in the world, yet at the same time with the most delicate handlings to keep him comfortable. I remember one nurse in particular holding legitimate conversations with Caleb and when she prepped him for a blood test prick, she would say “1,2,3, cookies!!!” in such a cheerful voice to make the event less painful (for both baby AND mommyJ). It was in those small things that showed their deep love for their jobs and for the little babies they care for. It was also in these small things that God provided peace and comfort to us and reminded us of his faithfulness to be present and intentional even in the small things.

A Love Package from LifeSong Ministries,
a non-profit org run by my cousin for NICU families.

Caleb was a warrior, and we continually praised God for his progress. At 4 days he no longer needed the CPAP, at one week he graduated off of his cannula, and soon after, he was allowed to try breastfeeding. As he proved himself strong enough to nurse, gained weight, and transitioned out of regular tachypnea and bradycardia episodes, we got closer and closer to discharge day.

When it was all said and done, Caleb spent 13 days in the NICU and he came home at a weight of 4lb 13.7oz. 

Today, Caleb is 6 months old, weighs a whopping 20 pounds and is a delightful character, full of laughs, squeals, and giggles. He loves his brother unashamedly and we couldn’t be more in love and more thankful. Through it all, we learned just how precious life is, how fortunate we are to have doctors and nurses who can care for such little lives, and we learned just how crucial it is to lay our requests and burdens at the feet of Jesus and then truly leave them there, waiting in expectation to see just how He will work.