I was in the car, somewhere in Iowa, when I got a call from my daughter. Her name is Brooke. her voice was small and sad. She sounded like she was chocking back tears which would soon spill out with the words she spoke. She had just come from her 25 week ultrasound where she discovered that her baby was not growing at the proper rate and that he was losing ground. I was sunned, I didn't know what to do or what to say. My first born was in trouble with her firstborn. It was such a helpless feeling. All I wanted to do was to hold my daughter and hug her. I would have given anything to be able to crawl through the phone at that minute.
My teenagers were in the car with me and my husband was following along behind. We were in the middle of a cross country move from Long Island, New York to Cedar Hills Utah. Brooke and BJ, her husband, live in Utah. I thought I was going there to become a grandmother and enjoy the last half of her pregnancy with her. We had such great plans of shopping and sewing and baby showers. We were so excite, our first grandbaby on the way and we were moving to be closer to them, a grandmother's dream. In one moment all of that changed. I all could say to her was, "Hang in there honey, I am on my way! I'll be there in three days." I tried to make my voice sound like a hug as much as I could.
That was the longest three days of my life! I spent most of it wishing my car could fly or that I could somehow magically teleport myself to Utah. Neither of those option worked so I was doomed to driving. My husband is a nautral lead foot, that is why he was following me - so I could set the pace, which was naturally slower. Not this time baby!
In the meantime, Brooke was put on bedrest and told to monitor the kicks the baby made in an hour and to call the doctor if they fell below a certain number. Can you imagine how terrifying that is? To only be able to lay there and count kicks, that is the equivalent of the worst kind of torture to a pregnant mom! Especially a first time pregant mom!! Sometimes I think doctors have no idea what they do to their patients when they perscribe these things.
We finally arrived in Utah and were put into temporary housing while we searched for a new home to live in. In between house hunting I took my terrified daughter to the hospital each week for an ultrasound to monitor the progress of the baby. We followed these visits with lunch out on the way home to break up the monotony of bedrest. At first the neonatologist said that the baby must have a fatal chromosome defect. He continued, "Your baby will likely not survive birth..." As he talked I saw all of the blood rush from my daughters face, she swayed and I moved towards her to catch her if she fainted. I don't know if was the look on her face or the coldness in which this news was delivered but something inside me snapped. I turned and said, "NO! That is not it, look again!" To my amazement he did! This time a Doppler was used. As he dopplered the blood flow through the cord they discovered that the blood flow of the baby was not pumping well enough so he was not getting enough of the good things he needed to grow. To me this was a better explanation for why he was so small. Maybe I was grasping at straws, maybe I just couldn't face reality or maybe I just really knew he would be fine. I thought they would do a C-section right then and there but the reasoning was that it was better for him in than out as long as he was getting something. We were left with weekly visits to the hospitial to Doppler the cord and bedrest and counting kicks. So we dutifully showed up at the hospital each week, worried and anxious. And each week we went home for more bedrest and counting more kicks. Weeks felt like years and this torture continued for four more weeks. Mom's will do anything for their children and I saw my Brooke become a mom right before my eyes. At the same time I felt myself becoming a grandmother.
Finally the great and dreaded day arrived. It was a beautiful day in June, the sun was shining, there was a soft breeze and the flowers around the hospital were in full bloom, but I couldn't ignore the dread I felt in my stomach as we went to the hospital for the regular ultrasound. We were growing used to our new routine. In the meantime, we had found a house to buy. The closing was scheduled for the following day. We were joking as we got into the elevator that Elliot better wait to come at least until his grandma could get moved into her new house. It was not to be.
Everything moved so fast. It felt like someone had pushed the fast forward button on our lives. The doctor said the blood flow through the cord was beginning to flow in reverse. Brooke was admitted to the hospital immediately for observation. Plans for a nice lunch out, our weekly splurg from bedrest, were cancelled. BJ was called and he raced to the hospital. I hated to leave my poor baby girl. She looked so helpless, small and sad. I just wanted to be able to take all of this away from her. But I had to go! I was moving the next day!!! How could this be happening? Looking back I can see that it was a good thing that Brooke and BJ had to do this alone, together. It helped to cement their relationship and to make them parents.
I went home and packed up our things from the temporary housing and prepared for the 9 am closing. Brooke called and said that the flow through the cord was getting worse and they would take the baby at noon. I thought I would make it...we could close on our house and I could start the moving company unloading the truck and my mom and my sister could take over for me while I ran to the hospital just in time to reassure Brooke that everything would be alright. If everything went according to plan we would just make it.
As you know, things never go like they are planned. It must have been the fastest closing in the history of closings... 30 minutes! Done. In the middle of signing that mountain of paperwork a call came, it was BJ. Things were bad enough that the doctor rearranged her schedule and was there to do the C-section right then. NO! Not right now!! I am not done. Oh no! Put Brooke on the phone.
"Hi, honey, we are almost done. I will be there as soon as I can. I love you so much. You are such a brave girl, everything will be ok!"
"Really mom, do you think so?"
"I know so!"
"i will be there when you wake up. I love you!"
"I love you too mom!"
That was the last time I talked to my Brooke before she became a Mom and I became a Grandma. When I think about it now I had a lot of nerve or faith to tell her everything would be ok but somewhere inside me I knew it would be. I had such peace in the middle of this train wreck of our lives that I could not deny that it would be ok. I don't know how I knew it, I just KNEW!
It is true that Elliot is a preemie - Brooke is a premature mother - I am a premature grandmother. All of these things bring there own set of challenges and nothing turned out how we planned or dreamed it to be but we all love our sweet little Elliot dearly! sometimes life comes at you fast but we wouldn't change a thing. His little life has touched us in so many ways. He is a light and our inspiration! We have all learned so much and it has made us who we are, a bit premature maybe, but all in all that isn't such a bad thing is it?
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