I was kept on the critical floor for that day and a half because not only was I on a morphine drip, but I was also on a magnesium drip because of my blood platelets. They had dropped yet again. Not to mention, my blood sugars went on a wild ride right after delivery, dropping every hour it seemed. We had to do a lot of basal and bolus adjusting during that time. I had already dropped everything â€“ basals, bolus ratios, correction factors, etc â€“ by half and it was still too much insulin. I knew to expect a big drop, but I didnâ€™t realize it was going to be that much. It really is amazing what goes on in your body, and how the littlest or biggest things can have either a big or little impact on you.
Meanwhile, I had not seen my baby since that few seconds right after he was born. I was going crazy. Erik and others kept bringing me pictures that had been taken with their cell phones, and the NICU staff had even taken some pictures and laminated them for me to keep in my room, but it was just not the same as actually seeing him or touching him. So, when they finally let me move from the critical unit floor down to the standard delivery floor, I didnâ€™t waste any time asking if I could go down to the NICU to see him. The nurse wanted me to say and let her check me really quick, but with the pain of the c-section making it hard to get up and down in the wheel chair and the fact that if I had to go one more second without seeing him, I would probably go insane, I all but begged her to let me stay in the chair and let me go see my baby.
We scrubbed in and went through the double doors. Erik wheeled me around the other babies to take me to my little one. Finally we rounded the corner where he was. He was laying there, hooked up to all the machinery, sleeping. I couldnâ€™t help it. I couldnâ€™t hold my emotions. I cried as I finally got to touch his soft skin again. I could barely talk as I took in the wonder of the miracle that God had given me laying there in front of me. It was then I got to hold him. This was a huge deal. Even though others had come and gone to see him with Erik, no one but Erik had gotten to hold him. Erik made it a point to be sure that no one could except him until I had gotten to hold him. He did this without me knowing, and when he told me, it made that moment all the more special.
It was then that I saw his feet. His poor little heels had been poked so much by this time that they were purple and speckled. My heart broke. I knew they had to monitor his blood sugars, but it was then it hit home. I hurt for him. It was a moment where I started to blame myself for his pain. I know itâ€™s a big risk that babies of diabetic mothers are likely to have blood sugar problems that have to be monitored, but you never really think of what that entails until you see your own child with speckled heels from every check they performed staring you in the face. As I was looking at his feet and rubbing them, the doctor from the NICU came up to speak with me. He had spoken with Erik before, but he wanted to introduce himself and let me know who he was and how BabyK was doing. He told me how his blood sugars were doing and that they were going to start weaning him off of the IV glucose to see if his body would respond and balance out. Then he looked at me and told me something that I will never forget: He said that other than the blood sugar issues at birth, there were absolutely no other signs of him being born to a diabetic mom. It was then that I really lost it. My worst fears of a diabetic pregnancy had been alleviated. My son had not been seriously affected by my disease. Those words ranked right up there with â€œCongratulations, you’re pregnant!â€ and â€œItâ€™s a boy!â€ and â€œHere he is!â€.
And to think that through my teen years and up until only 6 years ago I was so dead set on never trying to become pregnant because of my diabetes. Oh what I wouldnâ€™t give to go back in time and show my younger self this little miracle and say, â€œYes!, You CAN do this!!!!â€