I’m sad

a sad start to life

Posted on by mommyinthemidwest

There’s a homeless man that usually sleeps in the alley behind the parking garage at work.  I don’t know where he’s gone, but hopefully he found somewhere warmer to sleep.  It’s been in the single digits overnight here lately and the wind chills have been well below zero.  I get an ache in my heart and a chill in my bones every time I see him (or don’t see him and wonder if he’s okay).  I always wonder what life path led him to the alley behind a downtown parking garage.  There are shelters less than 2 blocks away, so I assume it’s his choice to sleep on the street.  Does he have mental health problems?  Is he an addict?  A veteran?  He doesn’t ask for food or money when I see him.  I want to help him but I don’t know what to offer.  In a way, I hope to see him again when the weather turns warmer and in another way, I hope I don’t.  I hope he’s found somewhere better to be. 

As much as I have felt for this homeless man over the past year, nothing has shaken me to the core like the true story I heard about bit by bit on Tuesday.  At about 7am, a co-worker came into the office and told myself and a couple of others that she didn’t want to ruin our morning by grossing us out, but we should avoid the stairs in the parking garage because she walked upon a scary scene.  Intrigued, we all begged for more.  We were hungry for the gory details. She said that when she was coming down the stairs to the 2nd level landing, she spotted a large amount of a thick, red liquid all over the place and as she worked her way around it, she saw that it was literally dripping from one step to the next.  She swore someone was murdered.  In case that wasn’t bothersome enough, she said that there were bare feet footprints all through the “red liquid.”  No one wanted to call it blood.

The comedian in our group said “the security guy last night had a jug of red kool-aid, maybe he spilled it.”  “No,” she said, “it was chunky.”  The comedian comes back with “well, maybe he drank too much kool-aid and threw up.”  Ha.  Ha.  Ha.  We kind of left it at that and went our separate ways, careful to avoid using the stairwell in the parking garage as we headed home, our thoughts focused on how fast we could get our cars warmed up so we could get to our respective homes and snuggle into our respective cozy covers. 

Some time later, another friend I work with texted me asking if I saw anything scary in the parking garage.  I quickly responded that I didn’t see it but I heard about it and asked if she knew what happened.  She wrote back that a homeless woman had given birth in the stairwell.  I’m not sure what I had been expecting to learn, but my heart instantly dropped to my feet and a million thoughts and questions filled my mind.

Are they okay?
Is the baby even alive?
It was 7* F outside.  7!
Was she alone?
She didn’t even have shoes.
Did she yell out for help?
I was working 100 feet away while this was going on.
Did someone find her in the middle of giving birth?

I found out a few moments later that the building security guy reported that this was what had happened and that mother and baby were sent to the hospital and both were doing fine.  Initially, I felt immense relief.  But moments later, the same thoughts in my head were playing over and over, like a broken record. 

Was she alone? 
It was 7 degrees. 
She didn’t even have shoes. 

I wondered if our building security guy, who gets to work around 5:30am walked up on her during or after?  Or did he hear this from someone else?  What if it had been me?  What could I have done to help her?  I’d like to think that I’d call 911 – duh – then sit there with her and … well, then what?  Tell her to push?  I have given birth, but I don’t know if I could direct someone through it. 

When I got to work last night, a girl who works the afternoon shift said that there was a sign posted on the elevator doors saying the 2nd level stairwell landing was closed due to being professionally cleaned after someone had given birth there earlier in the day.  I’m sure that made a few people do a double-take. 

I finally had the chance to talk to our building security guy this morning.  He said he arrived at 5:37 yesterday morning and walked right through the area where all this birth-giving allegedly took place.  He saw nothing.  Then, at 6:01 someone else who works in my building came in and asked him what all the ambulances were doing there.  So sometime between 5:37 and 6:01 in the morning, this woman, this mother, in a moment of urgency decided that giving birth in our parking garage stairwell was her best option.  And she birthed a precious, innocent newborn baby.  Then she apparently called 911 or the parking garage attendant from the help box in the stairwell lobby.  Barefoot, while holding her baby. 

At that time, the building security guy didn’t know what had happened other than there was a bloody, gory scene on the second flight landing of the parking garage.  It wasn’t until 2 hours later that there were detectives and forensic evidence photographers swarming the area, roping it off with their yellow homicide tape.  He said that he asked one of the photographers what had happened and eventually he learned that a homeless woman had given birth just moments after he walked through her labor and delivery area. 

He said that his initial reaction, which I’m guessing would be the same as many of us, was to think Ew, gross…what if I’d been 10 minutes late…what would I have done?  I would have gotten blood all over my clothes.  I would have had to go home and change.  I would have helped her, but … Ew.  He said that he was shocked by the number of people that came through the door and didn’t even mention what had happened.  His initial reaction of Ew turned into one of empathy.  He said lots of people who did ask what happened laughed, made jokes, or made other rude and insensitive comments. 

What led her to give birth in the stairwell?  Did she not realize what was happening to her body until it was too late to get to a hospital?  Was she afraid that, because she is homeless, CPS would automatically take her baby away?  Is that why she didn’t go to the hospital to begin with?  I wonder if she has issues with her own mental health.  Or addiction.  How could a pregnant woman so close to going into labor not have a place to stay?  What if that was you?  What if that was me?  And my precious baby Theodore…

I have given birth in a comfortable, controlled environment with pain medication.  It was the scariest and most exhilarating experience of my life.  I wanted the people who love me the most surrounding me.  I can’t imagine have such a drastically different experience and the thought of it breaks my heart for this woman.  I have something in common with her because we are mothers.  We know what it’s like to grow a baby in our bellies.  We know what it’s like to wait with anticipation to see that tiny face and kiss those tiny fingers.  I ache for her, not knowing what path life will take her and her baby on.  With such a sad and scary start, we can only hope for the best.  I hope this mama has a chance to raise her baby.  I hope she’s able to meet her baby’s most basic needs and provide the little one with lifelong unconditional love.  In the end, everything else is extra.

So, if it were you…if you were the one that walked up on this woman giving birth in a freezing concrete stairwell, what would you do?

~C~

enough to make a mama cry, apparently

Posted on by mommyinthemidwest

Maybe it’s because I was scared to death of the surgery I was scheduled to have the next day.  Maybe it’s because I’m 16 weeks pregnant and hormonal as can be.  Maybe it’s because I was going on 24 hours with no sleep.  Maybe it’s a combination of the three, but my baby’s doctor’s appointment made me cry Thursday.  All.  Day.  Thursday. 

The more likely scenario is that I’m a mama bear and more defensive and protective of my baby than I ever knew was possible.  It was the first time that anyone had the nerve to tell me to my face that my baby was anything but perfect.  Already, he’s being judged.  At NINE months old!

There’s a little checklist that you have to go through while you’re in the waiting room about what your baby is or isn’t doing.  Crawling was nowhere to be found on the list.  What was on the list though, was “pulling up to a standing position,” saying “mama” or “dada” on a regular basis, and “walking around furniture using one hand for balance.”  I didn’t check any of those because I’m not going to lie and he wasn’t doing any of those things.  There were only 2 or 3 things that I did check. 

Doc asks how things are going and I blurt out that everything is fabulous! He’s sleeping through the night routinely!  He’s eating a wonderful variety of table foods!  He almost never spits up!  He’s crawling!  He’s great at socializing with other babies and even strangers!

The doctor takes one look at the stupid checklist and says that there are a lot of things that I didn’t check off.  Duh.  Then immediately tells me that even dumb people eventually learn to walk and kick a ball so it’s a good thing that there aren’t signs of social and/or brain development delays.  That his delays are primarily physical/muscular and that we should have him EVALUATED to see if he needs physical therapy or perhaps if they can just provide us with some suggestions for things to work on at home.  I was utterly dumbfounded.  Completely speechless.  I felt my eyes stinging with tears and a knot building up in my throat.

He paused and asked me what I thought about getting him tested.  I said I didn’t know what to think, because it never occurred to me that there was a problem.  He says to me, “well, then, I guess it doesn’t feel very good to hear that there really might be some issues, does it?”  Excuse my language, but WHATTADICK.   

Like I said, I was in complete shock so I agreed to have him tested for a couple of reasons.  Not at all because I believe that my baby is stooooopid, but because I don’t want the doctor, who probably already thinks I’m a lazy mother, to think I don’t care.  (Why do I care what he thinks again?)  And partly because the tiniest part of me wonders if there is something wrong with my kid?  Is he really supposed to be doing all of this by now?  Does it make sense that it’s okay for him to start crawling at 9 months but it’s not okay that he hasn’t started doing all that other stuff?  Doesn’t it make sense that a baby would crawl over to a couch or coffee table before he pulled himself up on a couch or coffee table?  And doesn’t it make sense that a baby would pull himself up on the furniture before he started walking around it?

I was seriously confused, deflated, and offended.  I left the doctor’s office with the referral to have him tested in my hand and I think I started crying before we pulled out of the parking lot.  Every time anyone asked me how his appointment went, I burst into tears again.  I called my friend, who has a baby just 8 days younger than Theo and asked her what he was doing.  She told me that he’s doing every single thing that Theo’s not doing.  Every single thing that Theo’s supposed to be doing.  To me, it felt like every single thing Theo’s too dumb to be doing.  And J- if you’re reading this, don’t worry, I wasn’t upset with you or D for a second!

Everyone I talked to that afternoon tried to be uplifting and reassuring that Theo was right where he was supposed to be and that he was not “slow,” dumb, or delayed.  It didn’t take away the senselessly hearbroken feelings that I had.

Later in the afternoon, I sat down to look at the brochure from the place that the dumb doc referred us to.  Can I please read this to you?  No, because this is a blog.  Crap.  Well, you’ll have to read this for yourself.

6-9 months Milestones/Activities:
– creeps or crawls on hands/knees (check)
– moves toys from hand to hand (check)
– plays peek-a-boo (check)
– balances self while sitting (check)

6-9 months Possible Concerns (all of these are old news):
 – not accepting spoon feeding
 – not reaching or grabbing for objects
 – not turning head to locate sounds
 – not babbling and laughing out loud

9-12 months Milestones/Activities
– Pulls to a stand (working on this)
– Picks up small objects/finger feeds (has done this for MONTHS)
– Walks with one hand held (nope, not even close yet)
– Waves bye-bye (not yet)

9-12 months Possible Concerns:
 – not imitating simple sounds (he does this)
 – not playing with parents/siblings (he does this)
 – not able to sit on own (has done this for months)
 – not crawling or creeping on ground (he’s doing this)

WTF?  So the doctor knows more about the milestones than the place that is supposed to evaluate him to see why he’s not reaching his milestones?  Because according to this place, he is exactly where he is supposed to be.  Maybe not a rocket scientist in baby terms, but at least average, for Pete’s sake. 

This weekend, just so you know, he pulled himself up and was found standing in his bed.  Pppfffffttttttt.  So I am still entertaining the idea of getting him tested just for the pleasure and satisfaction of making the doctor look stoooopid.  Then, maybe it’s time for a new doctor.  Am I crazy and being totally irrational? 

On a lighter note, he weighed 18.05 lbs and was 28 inches long.  He gained 2 pounds since his 6 month check up.  At this rate, I’m wondering if he’s going to make it to the typical one-year weight, which is 3 times a baby’s birthweight (he weighed 7lbs 1.5 oz at birth so if that theory’s correct, he should weigh approx. 21 lbs 4.5oz at 12 months).  Something else we’ve screwed up on, no doubt.

Still mad,
~C~

first boo boo

Posted on by mommyinthemidwest

We were in Theo’s room last night after wrangling him into his pajamas (an all new adventure where he insists on flipping over on his changing table the instant we lay him down) and I sat him on the floor so he could practice his crawling.  He was playing with a book and decided to go belly to the floor, which he has gotten pretty good at.  You can tell that it’s a calculated effort, not just him clumsily falling backwards or to the side.  I was sitting in the rocker and his dad was sitting on the floor.  We were just talking away and casually watching Theo squirm around in an attempt to be mobile (which he definitely is, but I wouldn’t quite call it crawling…yet). 

Next thing I know he’s up on his hands and knees, and then he’s not…he’s falling forward towards the floor and I could not move fast enough to save him.  I watched from behind as he went face first onto the hardwood floor.  He lifted his head up and the three of us shared a moment of silence…that moment where we all wait to see if he cries or goes on about his business.  Not seeing from the front or the side, I wasn’t sure exactly what hit the floor first.  He started wailing that “I’m hurt” wail.  It’s so much sadder than the “I’m hungry” or the “I’m tired” wail because “I’m hurt” makes you feel like an instant winner of the “World’s Worst Parent” award.  You feel like your baby should never have to experience pain under your watch.  I’m always telling the dada that things are going to happen, he’s going to get bumps and bruises, scratches and cuts.  But when it happens, I’m the one who is more traumatized than anyone.  The dada picked him up and held him up to his shoulder so I ran around to see if there was any blood.  He was crying with a big open mouth so I could see in there and yep, there was definitely blood.

At that point I panicked and swooped him away (I don’t really know why, it was just my impulse) and carried him into the kitchen, while telling him how sorry I was over and over.  I stood at the freezer looking for a stupid teether or bag of peas or anything that I could hold up to his mouth to try to make him feel just a little bit better.  Dada found a teether and we went to the living room for a more thorough inspection of the wound.  There was blood around his brand new top teeth and I was scared to death that he knocked one loose.  Looks like he just bit his upper lip and maybe his tongue, but I didn’t try to wiggle his tooth to find out. 

So my poor, sweet baby has a busted upper lip.  It started swelling immediately and now the right side is way out of proportion with the left.  We put some orajel on it, gave him a bottle, and he went to bed without a fuss.  He was ready to get back down on (his soft blanket thankyouverymuch on) the floor and play some more after we applied the orajel.  Hopefully he’ll always be a tough little cookie.

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so sad for him.  Okay, I felt pretty awful about the 4 month shots.  I think he got 4 of them and that was terrible.  However, there was nothing I could have done to prevent that pain.  We should have been paying closer attention or had a rug down on the floor or a blanket or SOMETHING!  I know this is just the beginning of countless boo boos but man.  I didn’t know it would be so tough.  That thing grown ups always say about “it hurts me more than it hurts you” might really be true.  I’m realizing that now. 

~C~