Happy Birthday Jacob!

Dear Jacob,

Last year I woke up the previous morning just knowing this was it- today was different. I couldn't get comfortable, beside the fact that you were camping out on the nerve by my ribs which just made life miserable. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't bend, I couldn't eat, I could barely move. The moment I finally sat on the couch, I had to get up to go to the restroom. I thought I was going to die. I was beyond miserable, the pain that I had was ridiculous. Don't forget the fact that my pelvis wasn't opening and you were whacking your head on my bones. Needless to say, I was ready for you to be out. That morning I had received a call to schedule your c-section in case you chose not to show in the meantime. Literally, one hour after that call, you had other plans. My midwife/doula came (Dr. Marianne Moore), my best friend Samantha Eustis, my amazing neighbor Jessica Caballero, my dear childhood friend, Jess Hankamer, and your Daddy all were at my side while I labored at home. Dr. Moore decided that we needed to head to the hospital because I was in so much pain but I didn't seem to be progressing as much as she would like. Off we went to TCH Pavilion for Women.

We spent the night in observation and the next day we get admitted to the laboring unit. That afternoon, around 3p, my water broke. I opted for an epidural because I knew the contractions would become stronger since my water had broken. Soon after the epidural I suddenly couldn't breathe well, my throat was closing in on me. I began coughing and I felt very tired. The next moment I open my eyes I see that my room had become filled to the brim with Dr's and nurses. I see your Daddy's worried face above me and he is calling my name. We are not sure what happened, but for some reason I passed out and your heart rate plummeted. Little did we know that that was just the beginning of the excitement that you would cause during this delivery. Several hours later they checked me and the look on their faces told me everything. I was bleeding everywhere and they said that you were in danger. We immediately went to the OR and I remember the urgency in their steps. The words they spoke were candy coated because their faces gave it all away.

Fuzziness, my eyelids seem so very heavy. I hear your Daddy asking what is wrong with me. The anesthesiologist said it was my medications that were making me sleepy. The surgeon swears and I remember someone else saying, "Oh my God, how. . .?" You, my dear Jacob, were no longer in my uterus. You went through my old c-section scar and birthed yourself into my abdominal cavity. When the surgeon made the incision you were there - RIGHT THERE - not where you were supposed to be. My uterus had ruptured and I had an artery tear. I look over at the anesthesiologist and he had tears in his eyes. The surgeon peeks over the blue shield and said that you were a miracle. A living, breathing miracle. It was difficult to focus, my head was hurting and I felt so very cold. I remember them handing you to Daddy and trying to rush him out of the room, but that he stood firm and he brought you over to me. You were so beautiful, so perfect. I tried to look at Daddy, but his face was clouded, he reached over and kissed me and the nurses all but pushed him out the door. Then the darkness fell.

One cannot truly express the love, joy and utter peace that I felt. I found myself standing in a long hallway with walls covered in photographs of people; people of all ages, ethnicity, creeds and eras of bygone past. I look up and the walls continue on as far as I could see, there was no end. I begin walking, realizing I was no longer hurting, I walked faster when suddenly I see a light. The light opened up to a crowd of people talking, singing and laughing. Their faces were not clear, but the joy and peace they had was tangible. Suddenly I see him, my heart reached out and I wanted to race to him, but I couldn't. My Grandpa Brown walked toward me and sat down on the bench beside me that was lining the wall. His face was beautiful, still had the strong laugh creases by his eyes and the dimple on his nose. Oh how I loved that dimple on his nose. His silver grey hair shined and he had an aura about him, I could feel his love and feel his peace. My Grandpa began to speak to me - oh. My heart had missed him so and just hearing his voice and talking to him . . . we spoke of many things and I asked many questions. My heart heart was full and I was happy. He stood up and said it was time for me to go. I didn't understand this, I didn't want to go, I was happy, felt loved and at peace. Oh the PEACE. I reached out to hug him, touch him, but he told me that I couldn't. He told me it wasn't my time yet and that I had to go. Go? I didn't want to leave this place. I wanted to stay where there was complete healing, complete love, complete joy and complete peace. He looked at me and said, "I love you Jerusha. I have your other two babies with me and I have held Caden and I have held Jacob, now you must go back and hold your miracles. You must go and be their mother."

The lights are glaring and I hear my surgeon calling for the general surgeon because he thinks he may have perforated my bowel. I look up and I feel pressure in my abdomen, it was uncomfortable. I make a sound and the anesthesiologist looks over and me and whispers in my ear, "You are doing great, you are going to be just fine. Keep hanging on, you are going to make it. Jacob is perfect, you did good. Jacob is your miracle baby - you both are miracles. There is definitely a God and He is on your side." He readjusted my face mask and I fall back under.

I wake up as I am being wheeled into the recovery room. I see the tense and worried looks of Dr. Moore, Sam, Jess, Jessica and your Daddy. I remember asking about you over and over again. You were placed in my arms and I felt such a peace. I knew that it was going to be ok. You were just in the arms of Heaven and you were here for a reason. Later I was told by the surgeon that only 1 in 5 women survive what happened to me and that most babies do not. We were lucky, blessed and true miracles.

Today you wake up with giggles, your blue eyes glittering in the light and you flash me your cheeky grin. You are a ball of excitement and happiness. Today you turn one year old. I still can't believe that one full year has passed since your exciting entry into this world. You have filled our lives with laughter and chaos and your bubbly personality lightens up the room. Your brother, Caden, absolutely adores you and you are always looking to play with him. I pick you up and I breathe in deep. I am able to snatch the lingering smell of baby, but I know that all too soon it will be replaced with the smells of toddlerhood - that of exciting adventures. I gently squish your chunky legs and kiss your belly knowing that soon they will be replaced by leaner legs, perfect for running and chasing. You grin at me and I know your 3 top teeth and 3 bottom will soon be surrounded by more chompers, perfect for stealing Mommy's food and eating it. I kiss your little fat toes and feel the softness against my cheek, knowing that all too soon they will become stinky toes like Caden's and I won't go near them until after bath time. Today, on your first birthday, you are still my baby. Today, and every day, you are my miracle. Happy 1st birthday my Dear Jacob.

Love,
Mommy

It's my party and I will cry if I want to

It's present time!