Jude's birth

Jude was born just after midnight. I was induced the day before because of gestational diabetes -- he was 38 plus weeks and plenty old enough to be born. He hadn't had bad NSTs, he was just difficult keeping on the monitor, so everyone was tired of doing them twice a week with a nurse sitting there and following Jude around the womb to get a good strip. I was started on pitocin and not much happened, for hours. At 6pm my water broke and things got going. I asked for an epidural, I knew I would need it though I had gone natural for 4 previous births, and it was in by about 8 pm. I started pushing about 9:30pm. Nothing was happening. The 5 deliveries before Jude, baby was out within half an hour -- by midnight, I had been pushing 2 1/2 hours with no success and the OB said that if nothing changed, I would be prepped for a c-section in 30 minutes. Then Jude's heartrate started to fall and then I could hear it stop. It went from thump, thump, thump, thump to thump.....thump..........thump...........thump............thump........... It was the most terrifying silence in the world. At the same time, I was getting very fuzzy myself. I climbed onto the gurney, was rushed down the hall with the anesthesiologist pumping more meds into my epidural, and got onto the operating table -- they were cutting me open before the curtain was up because I remember seeing my midwife using the tool that helps to spread the incision -- then I was out. I don't remember seeing Jude coming out. The next thing I remember is the OB coming to my side of table and telling me that I had to have a hysterectomy, my uterus had ruptured and couldn't be repaired. I was out again and woke up trying to look for Jude. I saw that there was a crowd around the "infant area" in the operating room, but no crying -- no sound at all. Then another group came in and I was told they were taking him to the High Risk Nursery in the neighboring hospital. Then more surgery, more transfusions, waiting for a consult, and closing me up. I was so very cold. I shivered under a warming blanket for an hour until my body temperature came back up to normal. My midwife came in shortly after I was put in a room, exhausted and in tears. My husband came back from the other hospital, saying that Jude was stable. I honestly didn't believe that he was alive.

Sense of Doom

The week before Jude was born, I knew that something was going to go terribly, terribly wrong. I was convinced that we were both going to die and in some primitive way -- my body, my mind, something in me sensed that this was true. Before the advent of modern medicine (something my primitive mind wouldn't even comprehend), we would both be dead. I would have died in childbirth along with my child. Now, there are fetal monitors, there are c-sections -- there are numerous ways that both of us lived -- but at the time I had the overwhelming sense of doom. I wanted my husband to drive me to the ocean to see it one last time. I wanted to have a beautiful afternoon with my children. I wanted reassurance that it would be OK. In a way, it was -- we both lived. In a way, I still need that reassurance.

"Your Baby At 11 Months" or not

I have to stop ready "Your baby at 11 months." It just is not helpful! Jude can't do any of those things -- I might feel OK looking at "Your baby at 4 months." Poor guy, he still isn't sitting well, crawling, standing, etc -- all his brothers and sisters were crawling and almost walking at this age. I feel lucky he won't have a younger brother or sister that will pass him developmentally, since he'll always be the baby, it will always feel normal that he won't catch up with them quite so fast. He is still beautiful, he is still wonderful but he isn't what I expected.

The start of Jude's life

How did all this start? Of course, it started with finding out I was pregnant with Jude. I have to admit -- I wasn't happy. My baby at the time, Josie, was only 10 months old and I got pregnant with her when my baby, Tom, was only 10 months old. I really wasn't ready for it again. It took me a week to adjust well enough to the news to tell my husband. I did get over my shock and apprehension quickly enough -- I found out after Thanksgiving and by Christmas I was happy to be having another baby. Do I feel guilty about those feelings now -- no. Not an ounce of guilt about it. I suppose if I felt Jude was "unwanted" up until the moment of delivery, I might feel guilty about what I was feeling. By the time I delivered, Jude was a very much wanted and anticipated by his entire family.

First Day to Blog

First off, I am the mother of 7. This is important because no matter how manner children you've raised, it doesn't prepare you for having a child with disabilities. As a matter of fact -- I think I'm even more at a loss because I think I should know what to do, I think I should know how babies should be, what they should be doing, eating, acting, playing....and Jude has changed everything I thought I knew about parenting. Not only does it change how I relate to him, it changes how I relate to the others, how I organize time -- what I can do. I've had six easy babies, some cried more than others, but, in general, easy, easy babies. Then, at the end of my childbearing years, I got a big surprise. A beautiful, loving, sweet surprise, but a child that I can't predict and who I feel I'm in completely uncharted waters with. I've gone through some rough times in the past 11 months. Times I'm loathe to share with anyone because most people think I handle it all so well -- and who wants to dispell the notion that they are superwoman?