Olive - 3 Today

Three years ago today at this moment we were arriving at the hospital for an amnio. It would be another 40 minutes till they got to us to do the ultrasound. At 3pm the verdict came, your baby must come out, no time for amnio and we think he/she should be healthy. Approx 40 mins later mom knocked out, our teeny not-quite-ready baby came out. Daddy was waiting so anxiously for his baby to arrive and to be told he could come and see and hold him or her "would it be another girl or another boy?"

A few moments after she was out poor daddy see's a very scary life-altering sight. Doctors with his tiny baby with bag over her mouth pumping life giving air into her fragile body and working frantically to keep her alive. No sooner than seeing this he is told to follow them up to the NICU and helplessly watch as doctors and tiny Olive struggle to maintain life. Mom is still under anesthesia and comes to close to 425. I remember not being able to open my eyes quite all the way and saying "nurse!nurse? What did I have?" pause... no answer... Then a hesitant "i don't know" The pain of no pain drugs and realizing that this is not a good answer comes crashing down on this mama. I bug them and bug them to tell me where the baby is and what I had, so they call my doc. He comes in to explain, " you have a baby girl.... But..... She is not doing to well, her lungs are not quite developed and she is sick..... You can go and see her on your way to your postpartum room, your husband is with her oh AND you also lost a lot of blood during your c section we will be keeping an eye on you"

The first time seeing her just about killed me. No touching, nothing but looking at her for 5 minutes confused by the tubes and by all the beeps, alarms and nursing keeping watch. The next few days pass so slow, it's hard to re-live. A visit with her here and there until I receive my life giving blood. Being able to lay a hand on her and then finally pick her up, see her finally get dressed, finally get tube fed, finally a bath, then to nurse. The constant two steps forward three steps back. The next two weeks painfully slow and yet looking back went so fast.

I love you my teeny tiny Olive.