Then, shortly after Smash graced us with his presence, I got the fevah again. So, many assume that because A&B are only 14.5 months apart that Braxton was clearly unplanned, but this is not the case. He was so very planned and so very wanted. Sure, there were many times during my pregnancy that I *freaked out* wondering why I thought it was a good idea to have two, but God doesn't disappoint and I am thrilled that they came so close together.
While at a small gathering of some of my best girlfriends, I got encouraged to POAS (pee on a stick). I say "encouraged" but what I really mean is peer pressured. :) So, we made a trip to Wal-mart and got the things. I was absolutely SHOCKED to see that second line and I busted out of the bathroom screaming "I think I see two lines!!" Luckily, my girlfriends were there to hold my pee stick at the right angles to confirm that there were indeed, two lines. Pretty sure there was some jumping up and down and screaming that followed. Soon after, my friend, Cati, said something about him being the size of a poppyseed, and the name stuck. I'm sure that some people find it very strange that I didn't take the test with my husband, or that he wasn't the first to find out, but it was very special to me and it's definitely something I will never forget.
My pregnancy with Braxton was uneventful. Easy. I hardly had any morning sickness, I didn't *feel* any different, maybe just a little more on the tired side. OK, a LOT on the tired side, but that is nothing in the spectrum of pregnancy complaints. All along I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, though. In the beginning, I was totally braced for a miscarriage, even though I had no reason to think that I would have one and then as the pregnancy progressed, and was going so perfectly, I just thought "nothing is this perfect, something willgo wrong."
That feeling was right. The day Braxton was born, I was in the OR for my repeat c-section. They were just pulling my baby out and my doctor says, "The baby has got a little cleft lip." Can I just say I was SHOCKED. Only because at our anatomy ultrasound, the tech got a great look at his face and says to us, "Well, he doesn't have a cleft lip!" I remember thinking at the time that it was odd of her to say that. Mainly because they never said anything about Ashton's lip at his ultrasounds.
So, he has a cleft lip. I was freaking out because I had been preparing for my entire pregnancy to breastfeed. I didn't get to very long with Ashton and I was determined to educate myself and surround myself with people who would do everything they could to help me nurse successfully. I remember asking the nurses, "Will he be able to eat?" terrified that he wouldn't even be able to take a bottle. The nurses were fabulous and told me that his palate was not affected and that he shouldn't have a problem eating, but probably won't be able to breastfeed. *tears* I was so upset.
Meanwhile, they are cleaning him off, and doing all the footprints, weighing and all that jazz. They tell me they are going to have to take him to the NICU, because his breathing was a little labored. I was prepared for that, as it's common in c-section babes.
Before they took him away, they brought him over to me. (This is where the soundtrack slows down to some really peaceful music.) One look at that little face and I was in love. All over again. It was the same as the first go-round and yet so different all at the same time. I got to stroke his beautiful cheeks and talk to this little boy that we had been praying so hard for and you know what? His breathing slowed. He calmed down. The nurses were amazed at the improvement he was making by just being near me. There is no greater feeling.
He goes onto have to stay in the NICU for three nights and doesn't come home until the fifth day. I could get into all the medical talk, but I would just lose those of you that aren't in the medical profession. I'll say this. It was hell. I had to wait six hours to even see him again. It's something I still cry my eyes out thinking about. It's hard to shake the feeling of being "ripped off". Ripped off of the normal hospital experience. Ripped off of the first few days of life of my little boy. On the other hand, I feel extremely blessed that his problems were relatively minor and he wasn't in there as long as some of those other tiny babies.
(After a pretty difficult road, Braxton did go onto breastfeed successfully and is still nursing!)
He looks precious.
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