Hometown Tradegy

Growing up I lived in "the bubble" - at least that's how everyone referred to our town. It's a quiet little place 20 minutes north of Boston with a population of 26,000 people - all who seemingly know each other. The high school band has won many accolades over the years, our sports teams are very successful and many of our students go on to do amazing things with organizations that benefit the greater good. Not only do a lot of the town's children return after college but there are a handfull of them that have gone on to become teachers within the town.

When I was young I took for granted the laid back quality of my hometown, and refused to end up "a townie." I guess I thought that if I returned to Danvers in my adult life that I would somehow miss out on something, that I would be succumbing to "the bubble." However, after Brian and I got married my view changed. Suddenly my hometown became the only place I wanted to be. Unfortunately for us, as the years past so did the popularity of living in our quaint little town and home prices skyrocketed. So ultimately when we were ready to buy a home we were unable to do so in the one place we truly wanted to raise our family. Although we've since bought a home elsewhere we are always keeping our eye on the market for our opportuty to return, there is nowhere I'd rather Lucas grow up. My mother is a teacher at one of the elementary schools and Brian's parents own a very popular flower shop downtown - Danvers really is where our hearts are.

So it was heartbreaking to wake up this morning and hear of the tragedy that unfolded over night. What started off as a missing child case turned into a homicide investigation. The details have yet to be released but what we do know so far is that sometime last evening a fourteen year old student at our high school murdered a twenty-four year old math teacher. He was found wandering down route one in Topsfield and her body was found in the woods behind the school. 

Her name was Colleen Ritzer and she was very well liked within the community. She herself was local, having grown up in Andover and attended Salem State University before beginning her career at Danvers High.

Just like the marathon bombings this is something that I would have NEVER thought would happen in my hometown. It's something that happens far away from "the bubble," so far away that it can't touch us. But this time it did happen here and it rocked our town like nothing has before.

My heart goes out to the Ritzer family and all those who knew and loved Colleen. I can't even fathom the loss they are feeling. Hopefully they can find some peace knowing that the person responsible has been caught.

It's just another horrible reminder to never take anything for granted, to hold your babies tighter than ever and to appreciate every day you have because you never know when it could be your last.

Two Weeks Left

As I sit here writing this entry, Lucas is happily chirping away in his bouncy seat at my feet. Hearing his little voice makes my heart so happy - it's a sound like nothing else. Sadly, for me, these mornings are fleeting - I go back to work in two weeks. I can not believe how fast the time has flown by, the fact that my little man is already six weeks old and that our time together is fading. 

This brings me to another thought - how completely unreasonable it is for companies to think that an 8 week maternity leave is nearly long enough especially given that many daycare centers will not take a baby younger than 8 weeks.  When we first found out I was pregnant I had just started a new job in Boston. Working for a large company I was lucky to even get the eight weeks that I did. Many companies require 12 months before they will give you any paid time so for that I can't complain. However, if I'd been there just three more months I would have been able to take 16 weeks! 

I have a dear friend who has been living in Scotland for the last three years. She became pregnant during her time there and gave birth to a beautiful little boy. And... her maternity leave was 9 MONTHS -- PAID!!! Yes, I am aware that this is due in part to the way in which their government is designed and the taxes that they pay, but it still doesn't negate the fact that she was able to be home with her son for almost the entire first year of his life! 

As my due date got closer, Brian and I contemplated seriously whether I would need to go back to work after the baby was born. While we'd be able to manage financially if I chose to stay home full-time, we have become accustomed to a certain lifestyle and we don't want Lucas to be denied anything in his life. I began looking for part time positions thinking that would be a good compromise between going back full time and not at all. Unfortunately, while there were lots of jobs out there, none of them truly interested me and for the amount I'd be getting paid it just didn't seem worth it. The decision had been made - I would go back full time, at least initially and see how things work out. 

With my return to work date rapidly approaching I find myself even more consumed with my son. Over the last few days he has begun to smile consciously and loves being carried around in the Baby Bjorn. I've started reading to him and despite my inability to carry a tune, I've been singing to him ... He loves "The Wheels on the Bus"! 

We are just trying to enjoy our last few days together which when your child is as perfect as mine is certainly not hard to do! 

October is Miscarriage & SIDS Awareness Month

Before I became a mother when I would see tragic stories of parents outliving their children on the news I would try to put myself in their shoes, to understand what they must be feeling or how they'd get through it. But that was impossible. Unless you know the loss of a child you can never truly understand the kind of never ending pain these parents go through. 

When the Sandy Hook tragedy happened in December of 2012 it was yet another reminder of how precious life is. I found myself watching the news coverage obsessively, sobbing over every picture, name and family. It was impossible for me to turn away. I think part of that had to do with the fact that I had suffered my miscarriage only a few months before. While my loss was dramatically different, I felt a sort of connection with the parents I was seeing on television. For me it was knowing I would never get the chance to hold my twins in my arms, for these parents it was knowing they would never again hold their babies. It's a sense of loss that never goes away but with time becomes a bit easier to bear.

Since becoming pregnant with Lucas, stories like Sandy Hook, the kidnapped women in Cleveland and more recently the loss of Martin Richard in the Boston Marathon Bombing have really hit home. Just the thought of losing Lucas makes me catch my breath. Once I held him in my arms he captured my whole heart in a way nothing else ever has, if I lost him it would be like losing my own heart - I don't think I could survive it. 

It's been a month since Lucas was born and last night I had two very vivid and similar nightmares.  It was the first night in a long time that I can say I remember a dream in such detail - and I wish I could forget! 

In the first I was pregnant again, 27 weeks to be exact. I was counting down the days to my due date and had just gotten to my prenatal appointment. For some reason my doctor decided that instead of just listening to the heartbeat she would do an ultrasound. During the exam she realized that not only had Lucas stopped moving but his heart had stopped beating. After months of bonding with my unborn child I had lost him. I knew that despite the fact that he was already gone I was going to lose him again after delivering him stillborn. I woke up in hysterics. 

This dream shook me to the core - especially after everything we went through last year but luckily for me all I had to do was look next to my bed and see my baby sleeping in his bassinet to know it was just a horrible nightmare. After giving him a kiss on his sweet face I rolled over to go back go sleep...

My second nightmare was in my mind almost worst than the first. This one started with Brian and me welcoming home our precious little baby. For some strange reason Brian didn't sleep in the bedroom that first night so I kept Lucas in bed with me where I could feel his warm little body against mine. The only other part of this nightmare that I remember was being told Lucas was no longer with us - the implication being clear to me. 

When I was FINALLY able to rouse myself from this one my first thought, after wiping the tears from my eyes was Lucas! I turned on the light and reached into his bassinet. There he was right where he was before, sleeping (and breathing) like an angel! Not caring if I woke him up I removed him from his bassinet and held him tight against my chest - I just needed to feel his breath on my face. I spent the rest of the night wide awake just watching him sleep. 

These were two of the most disturbing and unfathomable dreams I've ever had. I never want to go there again. 

It's ironic to me that I would have had these dreams now seeing that October is SIDS, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. 

According to firstcandle.org every day 13 babies will be lost to SIDS; more than 70 parents will have listened to the silence of their stillborn and countless more will suffer the pain of miscarriage. While these numbers may seem small, for those families who deal with this type of pain they are huge.

While the research is ongoing currently there is no scientific reason for SIDS - barely two decades ago doctors advocated infants sleeping on their stomachs but now they say side sleeping and stomach sleeping should be avoided at all costs. The reasons for why babies are stillborn are extensive, they range anywhere from a genetic reasons to even the umbilical cord being caught around the infant's neck. Similarly doctors can't always pinpoint the reason for miscarriage, it could be as simple to explain as an implantation issue or as in my case an ectopic pregnancy but sadly the results are the same. 

As I spoke about in my entry regarding my experience miscarriage is a silent pain that many women suffer through alone. While SIDS and stillbirth are public knowledge to those around us there is still a level of suffering that the mother goes through alone. 

The goal of First Candle is "to make it possible for every baby to celebrate not only his or her first birthday, but many happy birthdays beyond". If you have ever known a woman who has suffered through this pain or perhaps you have yourself please take a moment and visit their website to see how you can support their efforts through donation or to educate yourself further. No woman should have to go through it alone. 

Please hug your babies a little tighter tonight and remind yourself how blessed you are to have them in your arms. 

xoxoxo

Birth Story

As promised, here is Lucas' birth story.

Forewarning -- it is long and detailed. I will try to keep it as clean as possible but there are certain things, like mucus plug/water breaking/placenta that can't be ignored in the telling of the story. ENJOY!

Our story actually begins the day before Lucas was born. On Wednesday September 4th I woke up with some slight cramping in my lower abdomen. Having been 1cm dilated since August 23rd I wasn't too concerned with what it might be. However, as I went to take my shower that morning I noticed that I was bleeding a bit as well. Knowing I had my weekly pre-natal appointment the following morning I tried to put the cramping and bleeding out of my head. Of my many labor and delivery fears, one that always stuck out was "false alarms" ... I didn't want to be that girl that went to the hospital two and three times only to be sent home! But as the morning progressed I realized that maybe it was a good idea to call. My doctor asked me to come in at 2pm that afternoon "just to check things out".

I took it easy the rest of the day before driving myself to the office. During the drive I began noticing pains that weren't cramps and they definitely weren't Braxton Hicks. Trying to do the smart thing, I began timing these pains as I drove. One thing I had read was that if you can "breath through" a contraction than it's not real labor. Luckily for me, since I was alone, I could do just that. By the time I reached my appointment the pains were about 10 minutes apart - certainly not admittable for labor. My doctor hooked me up to the fetal monitor to make sure the nugget was still moving around and that his heartbeat was strong. After my 20 minutes were up my doctor did an internal exam during which (here comes the grossness) I lost my mucus plug. At that point she indicated to me that I was now 2cm dilated (woohoo) but that given the loss of my plug she expected that I would go into labor within the next 24 hours.

I called Brian on my way home, along with my mother, his mother, my sister, my grandmother and my uncle to let them know to be on high alert! Everyone was so excited. I tried reminding them that while she said I'd probably go into labor, there are no guarantees and that it could really be at any time. I was on cloud nine! When I finally got home, I made sure that my hospital bag was packed and ready to go. We were having dinner with Brian's parents that evening so I wanted to make sure everything was all set should we need to leave at a moments notice.

We had just finished eating dinner at Brian's parents house when my contractions started again. This time they were definitely labor pains. Brian began timing them and for the first hour they were sporadic - anywhere from 4 to 8 minutes apart. My doctor had said to call when they were consistently 5 minutes apart, so I held off. By the time we had finished our coffee there was no denying that I would be heading to the hospital sometime soon. We were just getting ready to leave when my water broke - at least that's what I thought it was. I told Brian we needed to leave immediately and we hurried out the door. At that point I was hoping I could just go home and sleep until the next morning as it was already 10pm and we had been up since 6am.

I texted my sister when I got in the car and said "I think my water broke" ... you'd think I would have known that's what it was with all the reading I'd done throughout the last nine months. She texted back that because she'd had a c-section her water had never broken so she didn't know what it would be or feel like. It then occurred to me that with the exception of my two friends Kim and Michelle (whose babies were born 3 and 5 years ago respectively) none of my girlfriends would know as they'd all had c-sections. This was the first time I felt like I had no one to ask questions!! So I did what I should have done from the beginning ... I called Dr. Mansour; the on-call doctor.

As soon as I told him my contractions were now about 6 minutes apart and that I believed my water had broken he instructed me to get to the hospital immediately. This of course sent me into a tailspin! We still had to get Berklee to my parents (I feared leaving her home on the off chance I was admitted), I needed to change and I began realizing how terrified of the actual birth I was.

I cried pretty much from that moment until we arrived at the hospital. They checked us into the system and then we waited... and waited... and waited. By now my contractions were timeably 4 minutes apart and there I was standing in the waiting room to be taken into triage. As someone who had never given birth before most of what was happening at this point was a mystery to me. I quickly learned that once your water breaks it doesn't stop. It's not as if it's this one gush of fluid and then it's done ... oh no, it just keeps coming and boy, let me tell you - it's nasty! At one point I joked to Brian that I should have bought Depends and not just overnight pads! After we'd been in the waiting room for about 20 minutes Brian began to get anxious. He asked the receptionist when we'd be taken into a room stating that unless they wanted me to have the baby in the waiting room that it would be a good idea to get someone to see me. Within a few moments my nurse arrived - and what a Godsend she was!

Her name was Kristine and she was such a ray of sunshine (I know super corny). She held my hand as we went into triage and she talked me through every single thing she was doing. She made sure I was comfortable - and began my admission process. There were about seven pages of questions I needed to answer, everything from when my due date was to who my medical proxy was should anything happen to me. When she was finished with the questioning she gave me the most beautiful pair of hospital mesh underwear and a johnny. I'd brought my own pajamas with me but figured I'd save those for after he was actually born.

Once I was settled Brian came into the room and we hunkered down for what we figured would be a long night. Kristine returned to insert my fluid IV and take some blood. She hooked me up to the contraction/fetal monitor and asked if we had any questions. We went over a few basics of my care and she left us alone. Now, for those of you that haven't given birth before or experienced an extended labor (due to a c-section) the monitor is like a computer screen. There is a set of numbers that shows the baby's heartbeat and another set that shows the intensity of your contractions. This set of numbers is a blessing and a curse all rolled into one. My husband, who I love so very dearly, tends to joke around during stressful situations as a form of comfort. So, in his attempt to keep me calm he would watch these numbers and let me know when a contraction was coming. For me, I started to really feel the contractions when the monitor hit 20. By the time it hit 40 I was hurting, anything over 60 and I was pretty much in tears. Being told when a contraction was coming was nice in that I could prepare myself for the pain and get ready to do my breathing, on the other hand it was a curse because I knew it was coming (if that makes sense). Additionally, Brian was able to tell me when the contractions were ending as the numbers started to decline. A few times my contractions would last longer than a minute at a time - damn were those awful. But with each one Brian "challenged" me to go higher ... "The last one only hit 65! I bet you can make the next one hit 70!" Not realizing that with every integer I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I labored this way, with no medication for 4.5 hours before finally being taken to a Labor and Delivery room of my own. At one point I'd asked the nurse if they were going to send me home, since I wasn't progressing, to which she replied "honey, your water broke. You're having this baby tonight"

We said goodbye to Kristine at 2:00am and were introduced to Mary - my Labor and Delivery nurse. She was another miracle! Now, I know there are many women that opt to have a fully natural delivery and for that I applaud you, I knew going into it that there was no way on God's green earth that I wasn't having pain medication. So Mary ordered my epidural. At 2:45am the pain angel arrived. Brian was allowed to stay as they were administering the epidural which was calming for me. Many hospitals ask the birthing partner to leave for fear that their reaction to the size and placement of the needle could cause the woman to spontaneously shift which could potentially cause irreparable harm to the spine. Luckily, Brian kept it together and I was able to get through it just fine. The nurse first gave me a shot of numbing medication into the site where the epidural would go. Despite my fears of it not working, I felt immediate relief. She then inserted the (come to find out later) MASSIVE needle into my spine. While I didn't feel pain per say, the amount of pressure I felt was pretty intense. It was almost as if someone was compressing my ribs into my spine. Once she inserted the tubing and removed the needle the pressure was gone. I was given an "on demand" button for any moments of extreme pain but was warned that the initial relief from the epidural wouldn't be felt for at least 20 minutes. By then, my contractions were 3 minutes apart and topping out right around 80. Good Lord was I in pain. Amazingly enough having Brian there was so helpful. Just being able to look in his eyes as he gave me his caring smirk made it just a little easier.

Once my epidural fully kicked in I was able to relax, and try to get some sleep. Unfortunately, because of the monitors beeping and the nursing coming into check my vitals every 20 minutes or so, that was easier said than done. The epidural is like nothing I've ever felt before and truly is a miracle of science. When you think about pain medication (like Percocet) you picture an overall relief, where you can feel it throughout your body. The epidural is localized and that feeling is bizarre to say the least. I could feel everything from my waist up (although I had some itchiness and tingling) but everything from the waist down was numb. Not completely numb though. I would liken it to falling asleep on your arm - when you wake up and you can move it but not feel anything. I knew I could move my legs, and in fact was asked to do so frequently to avoid "heaviness" of the medication, but there was a disconnect between my brain and my nerve endings (thankfully). Every time I moved it took a lot of mental effort on my part to tell my body what to do. It was almost comical.

Because of the epidural I couldn't tell when or if I needed to go to the bathroom so at 4:45am the nurse returned to check on my progress and insert my catheter. At that time she indicated to us that we were "ready to go". She said she was shocked at how quickly I'd gone from 2cm to 10cm and hurried away to find Dr. Mansour. When he arrived a few moments later he told us there had been a mistake. Due to the way I way lying at that point it looked as though I was further along than I really was. He did tell us however that I was now 4cm dilated. Only 6cm to go! Unfortunately, our nurse had told us that once you hit 4cm, it typically takes an hour per cm after that, so realistically we were looking at another 6 hours before it was time. Thankfully, because of the epidural I was relatively okay with that concept. Had I been feeling pain it might have been another story.

Brian and I spent the next few hours talking about how crazy this whole process was and that we couldn't believe that any minute we were going to go from being a family of 2 to having a child of our own ... we were about to become parents! It's a crazy thing to think about. Here you are a husband and wife, and in one action you become a mother and father. It's an overwhelming feeling.

Around 8:30am I began experiencing pain that the epidural couldn't mask. It was almost as if I was contracting without any pain medication. We called Mary into our room at 8:40am so I could describe what I was feeling. At that point she just knew it was almost time for the little one to make his appearance. She said that I was transitioning and that I should expect to be in this stage for another 30 minutes or so. She asked me a series of questions about where the pain was and whether or not I felt like I needed to "poop"... apparently that feeling is the best indicator for the doctor to know truly how far along you are. After answering her litany of questions she decided to take a look for herself at which time she said "I need to get the doctor! You're fully dilated!" Given her earlier mistake I tried not to be too excited, but knowing that it had been 4 hours I thought perhaps it really was time.

Dr. Mansour arrived within a few moments and when he looked at my progress he said "You told me she was 10cm dilated - you didn't tell me you could see his head!" Immediately there was a flurry of activity as Mary, the doctor and the assisting nurse began to ready my room for the delivery. This was where my idea of delivery was squashed. I had pictured a sterile room with stirrups and the doctor at the end of the bed - you know, what you see in the movies. But that's not what it was like at all, and truthfully for that I am grateful. There was something calming about how it was done. Dr. Mansour literally sat perpendicular to me at the end of my bed, with Mary on my left and Brian on my right. He had me pull my knees up to my chest and told Brian to hook his arm under my right knee while Mary did the same on the other side. It didn't feel "hopsital-ish" to me. It felt natural and comfortable - strange I know.

At 8:45am Dr. M looked up at me and said "PUSH!" My first contraction came and I pushed three times. He told me I needed to hold my breath and push down (as if I was trying to poop), and that screaming out loud and/or heavy breathing weakens the push. As my contraction wound down I collapsed backward on the bed. Epidural or no epidural - pushing is a lot of work! My next contraction came not even a minute later and I pushed three more times. With the third push my doctor said "the next one is it!" At 8:50am my third contraction came, and with it three more pushes. On my third and final one my son was born! He came out screaming his head off! Dr. Mansour sucked any remaining amniotic fluid out of his nose and mouth then handed the scissors to Brian so he could cut the umbilical cord. Iimmediately after he was placed on my chest for "skin to skin" contact. I looked up at Brian and he was crying, he just kept saying "I can't believe he's here". I looked down at my son and felt relief. We had done it! And we had done it easily! Three contractions and 6 minutes! All the hospital staff kept saying that we were "amazing" and that they couldn't believe how fast I delivered. It was as if he knew how badly we wanted to meet him.

A few moments later one final "push" (I say that lightly because I didn't really push) and the placenta was delivered. Brian told me later, that it was like a black mushy balloon. After that the assisting nurse and Mary cleaned me up, removed all the hazardous waste and it was if nothing had ever happened. It was all so fast I still can't believe it.

Oh, and don't even ask if we kept the placenta. The schools of thought on that are so incredible to me - some women choose to eat it, others have it dried and turned into vitamins and some use it as fertilizer to plant a tree - we chose to leave it with the hospital.

While my delivery was an easy and quick one I did end up needing two stitches due to some minor tearing, but luckily didn't need an episiotomy (something else I was terrified of). When Dr. Mansour had finished with my stitches, Mary took our son from us to weigh and measure him and to make sure that his APGAR score were good he got an 8! From there they left us alone to have family time. We were told we'd remain in L&D for 4 hours after his birth, at which time they would bathe him for us before moving us to our Postpartum room.

Brian and I sat there with our son in awe of what had just happened. We'd arrived at the hospital only 10 hours earlier and now here we were holding our little miracle in our arms. I couldn't help but visibly cry when I saw Brian hold his son for the first time, even now just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. Just the way he held him and looked at him with so much love in his eyes is something I could never fully explain. As the mother, I've had nine months of him growing inside me to build a different sort of connection. When he was born for me it was more like "oh well, there you are" and for Brian it was more "wow!" ... it's such a hard emotion to explain.

We spent those few hours alone quietly holding our son and whispering to each other. When it was finally time for the nurses to bathe him I didn't want to let him go.

Brian called our families with the wonderful news and told them to come as soon as they could to meet our little man.

It was so incredible after everything we went through this past October to be able to look at the perfect little face of our son, our miracle - our little Lucas Joseph!

So there it is, our long, yet thankfully uneventful birth story. I wouldn't change it for the world!!

Lucas Joseph
September 5, 2013 at 8:51am
Weight: 6lbs 13oz  Length: 20 inches