SOL Day 17: The Time When I Went Out for a Turkey Sandwich and Came Back with A Baby...

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My oldest has been interested lately in how "He got here."  So we've been talking about birth.  A lot.  (It's fine, we just share facts and answer questions openly here in this house.)  Here's A's story:


I left school on a Wednesday.  
"See you tomorrow boys and girls."

My desk?  A mess.  Lesson Plans?  Kind of.  He wasn't due for 6 more weeks.  I had time to clean that all up.  

I drove by myself to the doctor's office.  Did all the things you do there when you are pregnant.  Then the blood pressure checks started.  

"Do you feel okay Kendra?"
"Yes, I think so."
(140/100).  Or So.

"Well you've earned yourself a trip downtown."  (Code for drive to the hospital.)

Mildly annoyed, and a little concerned I get in the car and drive.  I call my husband, who is traveling for his job.

I arrive at the hospital.
My blood pressure continues to rise.

I lay in this tiny room all by myself in the days before social media, smart phones being common place,  and alone.  It seemed like days.  Dramatic, I know.

My doctor arrives.
"You must go home and lay down.  You have the beginning stages of preeclampsia.  You can get up to eat and shower."

Me:
"Sure.  But I have to go to school and clean off my desk and get some lesson plans ready."

Dr:  "If you do that, I'll just put you in the hospital tonight.  Go Home."

Me: (scared into submission)  "Okay."

Naturally I stop at Burger King for a cheeseburger (eeww) and call Jillian.  Who comes immediately with my school work.  That I can do laying down.  I lay on the couch for two days.  Shawn comes home.  My Mom comes.

I learn that daytime TV is the worst.

Friday comes.  Shawn promises me a trip to Panera after my doctor's visit for a Basil-Turkey Sandwich.

They plop me on my left side.  (152/110-ish).  More nurses come and try with the blood pressure.  "Do you feel okay?"  "Yes."

Another Doctor from my practice arrives to tell me I'm staying in the hospital, and having the baby.  The odds are 50-50 that he will need NICU care.  At this point, I'm terrified.  All I can squeak out?

"But I'm going out for a turkey sandwich."  (Really Kendra?!  Leave it to me to bring up what I'm going to eat at a time like this.)

A little over 24 hours later (I'll spare you those details), with the best medical care around, an awesome set of parents, a pastor who knows how to rejoice with the best of them, A is here.  All 4.12 pounds of him.

He's perfect.  He's strong.  He still is today.

Joy!
Kendra