Welcome to Ayinde's Blog. His birth changed my life. Read on...
Originally written on May 15, 2006
This is the first time I've had the mental strength to sit down and write this e-mail. I think Mother's Day is a most appropriate day to do so. First let me say HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO YOU ALL. Cat, I feel you. The tradition in my church is that we gather at someone's home and the men cook and serve the women all day. Conversely, on Father's Day we do the same for the men. Our church makes a big deal out of Mother's and Father's day. I probably would have cried too had I not received something today. But this is not the reason for this e-mail. I want to share my story with everyone so that I do not have to rehash it over and over again.
As many of you already know, I went into preterm labor on Monday, April 24th. I went to the hospital around 11:30 p.m. fully expecting to have the labor stopped and go home on bed rest. I was scared, but never thought in a million years that I would deliver my child. I didn't know it, but I had been in labor since about 7 p.m. that night. By 5:30 a.m. on Tuesday, April 25th, the doctor's told me "this baby is coming." I delivered him at 9:54 a.m. that morning at 28 weeks. He was not due until July 20. At this point I kind of blanked out and went into denial because "this couldn't really be happening." The whole experience was the complete opposite of almost everything I believe in. I was given morphine, magnesium sulfate, insulin, antibiotics, and more drugs. I labored flat on my back, hooked up to all kinds of machines. And, a perfect stranger delivered my baby. Now compare this to the kind of birth I intended - a calming, water birth with a midwife that I had developed a relationship with over a period of 10 months. Big difference! Over the last few weeks I've had to reframe my perception of this event into a more positive and thankful one. I've also gained a profound respect for modern medicine. And, by the grace of God's mercy my son is here and he's alive. The neonatologist on duty that night happened to be a very tender doctor of Indian descent who calmed all of my fears and assured me that my son would be fine. My husband never left my side and advocated for me in every way. Claudia Booker (she would have been my birthing assistant at the Birth Center) came and made me feel like a queen and showed those nurses how I was supposed to be treated after giving birth. And the phone calls and visits - praise God is all I can say. I was terrified after giving birth but when they told me he weighed 3lbs. 2oz. I was a bit more optimistic. I went into this totally ignorant about preemies. The doctor assured me that his survival rate was 90%. I just cried. My son's Godmother arrived in time to pray right before I gave birth. She took Zion downstairs to the cafeteria for breakfast and by the time they returned, his little brother was here. Then Corliss called and prayed with me (thank you!). Then Momma Teresa showed up, followed by my Pastor and his wife. So instead of crying my eyes out, I was surrounded by people who prayed over me. But it was still hard. My Pastor prayed over me and said today is a joyous occasion because some mothers carry a baby for 10 months and deliver a stillborn. He said your son is here and he is alive. This became my new paradigm for his birth.
After seeing my baby for the first time I was afraid to be alone. I didn't know how I would make it. How could I go home and function? And each time I had resigned myself to come back to my room and cry my eyes out, there was a beautiful Mocha Mom sitting in the visitor's chair with food, encouraging words, and a smile. I will never ever forget your presence for as long as I live. It is because of you that I was able to make it through the two days at the hospital. Leaving the hospital empty-handed was probably the worst. I probably spent the first two weeks crying. The visits, the play dates for Zion, the food, the phone calls from the Mocha Moms....have been my saving grace. When I was crying too much to cook, someone brought food. When I didn't have the mental strength to mother Zion, someone picked him up for a play date. I was able to cry in peace, read my Bible and meditate on my son. Thank you, thank you, thank you! One day 4 Mocha Moms came in one day bringing fruit and food of all kinds. Because of my sisters, I was able to focus on eating, sleeping, praying and pumping. Now, my milk supply is overflowing. I'm pumping more than 30 ounces of milk per day! Knowing that I will be able to breastfeed my son is keeping my spirits high.
It's still hard and I have moments when I just cry. When I see a pregnant mom or a new baby, I slip into the "why me?" It's getting more and more difficult to go to the hospital every day, see my son, and then go home. But my faith is keeping me strong sometimes. They all say the life of a preemie in the NICU is up and down. So I never know what to expect. But I affirm only the positive.
As for why all of this happened, I'm told that I had an infection in my placenta. But I'm also told that this is a "catch all" diagnosis because they really can't pinpoint what happened. Maybe this will be a cause I take up, who knows.
I could go on forever, but I just wanted to give you all an update, say thank you from the bottom of my heart, let you know that I will never, ever forget the love that I have been shown. My son is doing well. Please keep him lifted in prayer and surrounded in light. We've got a long road ahead of us, but I affirm that he will come home healthy and strong. Today we had a naming ceremony is the NICU (thank you Akua!). I give you:
Ayinde Kamau Utsey
Ayinde is a Yoruba name from Nigeria which means: the son we prayed for or we gave praises and he came. Kamau is a Kikuyu name from Kenya which means: quiet warrior
Our family translates this mean: "The son we prayed for is a quiet warrior."
As many of you already know, I went into preterm labor on Monday, April 24th. I went to the hospital around 11:30 p.m. fully expecting to have the labor stopped and go home on bed rest. I was scared, but never thought in a million years that I would deliver my child. I didn't know it, but I had been in labor since about 7 p.m. that night. By 5:30 a.m. on Tuesday, April 25th, the doctor's told me "this baby is coming." I delivered him at 9:54 a.m. that morning at 28 weeks. He was not due until July 20. At this point I kind of blanked out and went into denial because "this couldn't really be happening." The whole experience was the complete opposite of almost everything I believe in. I was given morphine, magnesium sulfate, insulin, antibiotics, and more drugs. I labored flat on my back, hooked up to all kinds of machines. And, a perfect stranger delivered my baby. Now compare this to the kind of birth I intended - a calming, water birth with a midwife that I had developed a relationship with over a period of 10 months. Big difference! Over the last few weeks I've had to reframe my perception of this event into a more positive and thankful one. I've also gained a profound respect for modern medicine. And, by the grace of God's mercy my son is here and he's alive. The neonatologist on duty that night happened to be a very tender doctor of Indian descent who calmed all of my fears and assured me that my son would be fine. My husband never left my side and advocated for me in every way. Claudia Booker (she would have been my birthing assistant at the Birth Center) came and made me feel like a queen and showed those nurses how I was supposed to be treated after giving birth. And the phone calls and visits - praise God is all I can say. I was terrified after giving birth but when they told me he weighed 3lbs. 2oz. I was a bit more optimistic. I went into this totally ignorant about preemies. The doctor assured me that his survival rate was 90%. I just cried. My son's Godmother arrived in time to pray right before I gave birth. She took Zion downstairs to the cafeteria for breakfast and by the time they returned, his little brother was here. Then Corliss called and prayed with me (thank you!). Then Momma Teresa showed up, followed by my Pastor and his wife. So instead of crying my eyes out, I was surrounded by people who prayed over me. But it was still hard. My Pastor prayed over me and said today is a joyous occasion because some mothers carry a baby for 10 months and deliver a stillborn. He said your son is here and he is alive. This became my new paradigm for his birth.
After seeing my baby for the first time I was afraid to be alone. I didn't know how I would make it. How could I go home and function? And each time I had resigned myself to come back to my room and cry my eyes out, there was a beautiful Mocha Mom sitting in the visitor's chair with food, encouraging words, and a smile. I will never ever forget your presence for as long as I live. It is because of you that I was able to make it through the two days at the hospital. Leaving the hospital empty-handed was probably the worst. I probably spent the first two weeks crying. The visits, the play dates for Zion, the food, the phone calls from the Mocha Moms....have been my saving grace. When I was crying too much to cook, someone brought food. When I didn't have the mental strength to mother Zion, someone picked him up for a play date. I was able to cry in peace, read my Bible and meditate on my son. Thank you, thank you, thank you! One day 4 Mocha Moms came in one day bringing fruit and food of all kinds. Because of my sisters, I was able to focus on eating, sleeping, praying and pumping. Now, my milk supply is overflowing. I'm pumping more than 30 ounces of milk per day! Knowing that I will be able to breastfeed my son is keeping my spirits high.
It's still hard and I have moments when I just cry. When I see a pregnant mom or a new baby, I slip into the "why me?" It's getting more and more difficult to go to the hospital every day, see my son, and then go home. But my faith is keeping me strong sometimes. They all say the life of a preemie in the NICU is up and down. So I never know what to expect. But I affirm only the positive.
As for why all of this happened, I'm told that I had an infection in my placenta. But I'm also told that this is a "catch all" diagnosis because they really can't pinpoint what happened. Maybe this will be a cause I take up, who knows.
I could go on forever, but I just wanted to give you all an update, say thank you from the bottom of my heart, let you know that I will never, ever forget the love that I have been shown. My son is doing well. Please keep him lifted in prayer and surrounded in light. We've got a long road ahead of us, but I affirm that he will come home healthy and strong. Today we had a naming ceremony is the NICU (thank you Akua!). I give you:
Ayinde Kamau Utsey
Ayinde is a Yoruba name from Nigeria which means: the son we prayed for or we gave praises and he came. Kamau is a Kikuyu name from Kenya which means: quiet warrior
Our family translates this mean: "The son we prayed for is a quiet warrior."
1 comments:
Hi again, I posted on your most recent entry and wanted to read about Ayinde's beginning. Image my shock and surprise to know that his middle name is Kamau, just like my brother. I am pregnant again, and will enjoy reading about your strenght through such a difficult time. You have such a wondeful way of putting things into perspective. I am pregnant with our second and for some reason I am a lot more worried this time around not realizing how lucky you are to have a smooth uncomplicated birth with your first. ignorance is bliss! I want to take my time ready about Ainde Kamau since his name and stor touch my heart. Good Luck! MML Rashida
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