"He is cold now is that okay?"
That is the question my mom asked me before she handed my son back to me. The nurses had taken him away to measure him, dress him, wash him, take his little footprints, and take pictures of him. Once all of that was complete they wrapped my angel baby in a blanket and prepared to hand him back to me, the heart-broken mommy. My mom had been by my side the whole night. She had watched as my temperature started to climb from the infection, she had heard the doctors say that if they didn't help me with my labor soon I would die. She had held my hand through all the contractions...until I screamed at her not to touch me anymore. She had put the cold cloths on my head. She had feed me ice...until I almost chocked to death on a piece because a contraction started right as I took it in my mouth. She had chased down a doctor when I felt the need to push. She had gotten the NICU nurses when he finally arrived and they were not there to try and save him. And, now she was handing me my cold, dead son back. She wanted me to know he was cold. Isn't that a mom's way? Her oldest daughter had just given birth to a baby that only lived 22 minutes and she wanted me to be prepared for his cold body. I wasn't but, at least I knew what was coming.
Today I had a few little moles removed from my back. My dermatologist (whom I really really dislike) ((however, she is the only one in my area approved by my insurance)) is ALWAYS running behind. The nurse had called me yesterday to prepare me for the procedure and told me to call 30 minutes ahead and they would sign me in. I did that and still had to wait when I arrived. When they were finally ready for me they lead me back to a room, had me undress, put me on a table with one of those fantastic paper sheets and walked away. 45 minutes later....a mild panic attack was already in place within me! Here I was laying on a table much like the one in the triage room at Winnie Palmer. I was all alone and a little scared of the whole thing. I just kept thinking about being at the hospital. I kept playing those days over and over again in my head...until I finally locked in on the thought, "He is cold now is that okay?" I laid there and cried. I wanted to be anywhere else but here on this table. When the doctor finally came in I tried to ask her two or three questions but, she would not even acknowledge me. She talked quickly to the nurse and never even noticed the patient on the table. I had tears in my eyes and she never even noticed. I didn't want to tell her about my son...I just needed to know what the heck she was doing. She removed two of the moles and then said she had three other patients to see and would be back to remove the other two. HELLO!!! I have been on this damn table for over and hour at this point and you are walking away and who knows when I will see you again??? I laid there fore about 15 more minutes and my mild panic attack turned a little more violent. I got up, got dressed and walked out. I told the nurse I didn't want the other two removed after all. I was crying A LOT by now...which have I mentioned how much I HATE crying in public??? I paid my stupid co-pay and left.
"He is cold now is that okay?" NO!! I want him alive with me...but, this is my new reality. Today is twelve weeks. In my twelve weeks I have decided a few things: life is not fair!!! And, it seems my new mission is to take the things I can change and change them...I was not going to lay in that awful place for another 45 minutes waiting on her to come back. I needed out...so, I left. Doctors seem to think they rule the world and I was taking control of my world. So, as silly as it was to walk out and not let her finish...I felt vindicated. I felt like I finally took one unfair thing and made it fair to me.
I love my mommy. I love that she stood with me all night. I love that she cared enough to even ask if I wanted him back because he was cold. I love that when she knew Ken was finally on his way into the hospital she asked the nurses for some warm blankets to wrap around our son. She wanted Ken to feel warmth when he held our son for the first time. She trys to make life fair...and let's face it most of the time it is not!!!