A bit of backstory.

Was just thinking about all this again after Greyson’s birthday. Can’t remember if I’ve ever written it out so thought I’d do it here now in case I hadn’t. It’s more for me than anything, so read at your own risk. I’ve put a cute video at the end, and won’t be offended if you skip the writeup and just check out the video. In fact, I encourage you to skip the write up and just scroll down and watch the video!
Three years ago on September 25 my life was drastically changed forever. It had been a crazy month leading up to this date. 5 weeks earlier Stacy and I had learned that we were having a baby. We also learned that she was 19 weeks along. Two days later we went in and had an ultrasound, learning that the baby was going to be a boy. After trying for over 6 years you can probably imagine how excited we were. A baby…..a son…..and we were already almost half way through the pregnancy!! Unfortunately on that day we also learned there was a problem. Something called an incompetent cervix. Stacy was put on strict bedrest. God what could this mean? A week later we went to Tacoma to see a specialist. The news was not promising. Basically we were told that this amazing little boy would be coming into the world early, the question was how early? We were told we were told Stacy could have something called a cerclage but there were a lot of risks with having that this late in the pregnancy. Basically it could cause her to go into labor. We prayed and decided to have Stacy stay on bedrest. We made it to almost 21 weeks (pregnancy is 40 weeks) when Stacy went into the hospital.
After being in the hospital for awhile the feeling was everything was going to be OK. They were going to keep us overnight just for precaution, and I was told I should go home and sleep. I decided to go home and get a toothbrush and change of clothes before coming back to spend the night with Stacy. I got back to the hospital and was setting into my sleeping chair when the nurse said something about contractions. Con…what!?? Soon they were doing an exam on Stacy. I won’t get into all the details but the message was the baby was not staying in.
The Dr. called and I talked to him. It wasn’t our Dr. but the on call Dr. He was home but said he would come in if we wanted him to. Unfortunately he said it looked like Stacy was going to go into labor sometime during the night, and at 21 weeks the baby could not survive.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget that conversation or the way I felt when I hung up the phone and looked at Stacy to tell her what he had said. I don’t think I’ve ever cried out to God like I did that night. All night long as Stacy tried to sleep I just kept watching the clock and praying. When would the contractions start? When would it be over? God why was this happening? God why did you bless us with this child if we were just going to have to watch him die? Our Dr. was going to be coming in around 7. I would pray, cry, and watch the clock. The more I cried, the more I prayed, the more I questioned, the more I felt God’s presence. He never said it would turn out OK. He simply seemed to say over and over that He loved us. He seemed to whisper that we could trust Him no matter what.
The Dr. came in early in the morning to talk to us. We had made it through the night, wasn’t that a sign of hope!??? He talked to us about what was happening. Even if Stacy didn’t start having contractions she was going to develop an infection. The baby would get infected. This would lead to the baby’s birth. He talked to us about the magical baby number, 24 weeks. 24 Weeks is the age of viability when a baby has a chance of survival. The Dr. told us how tough it was to bring a baby into the world at 24 weeks. He then told us that it is even worse to bring an infected baby into the world at 24 weeks. They probably wouldn’t survive. If they did they would have severe brain bleeds, cerebal palsy, blindness, hearing issues, and on and on it went.
He then talked to us about ending the pregnancy. I’m totally against abortion. Stacy is as well. Yet in that moment we were confronted with a decision no one should ever have to make. Abort the child or move forward with the pregnancy knowing the child would probably not survive, and what life it made it through (be it minutes, hours, or days) would be filled with suffering.
Honestly we didn’t really give an answer at that time. We were devestated and all we could say was that we couldn’t decide to end the pregnancy at that time. The Dr. said that was OK and that he would be by later to check on us. Stacy had some more tests and the Dr. stopped by to say he was encouraged by the results.
It wasn’t until the end of the day that he came back. Things were still not good. Not good at all, but not quite as bad as they had thought. It was during that time we told him we wanted to do everything we could to give this child the best chance possible to live.
This was all on Monday September 10. On Friday September 21 we were transferred to Tacoma General after days of our Dr. calling and pleading for them to take us. He recognized that we were in a very dangerous place and wanted us to be in a hospital with a level 3 NICU so the baby would have the best chances if it were to be born early. We knew that at 24 weeks they would give Stacy steroid shots that could help baby Boudreaux’s lungs (that’s what we were calling him at this point) develop. On Saturday morning Stacy’s water broke. The risk of infection was very great. They were worried she would start to have contractions or the baby wouldn’t have enough fluid to stay alive. On Sunday September 23 they gave Stacy the steroids. We would not be to 24 weeks until Wednesday, but since her water broke they decided to give the steroids early.
On Tuesday September 25 I woke up and everything was still the same. Basically we were just rolling along at that point praying for Boudreaux to get more and more time. We knew the situation was bad, but we were praying for as much time as possible. Stacy was feeling warm had a slight temperature but her hospital room was warm so we didn’t think much about it. I had been eating hospital food for too long so I decided to go out and get something real to eat. I found a chicken Teriyaki place not far from the hospital and sat and ate it enjoying the nice day. As I started to head back to the hospital I decided to stop at Baskin Robins and treat myself to some ice-cream.
When I walked into the hospital room the nurse was taking Stacy’s temperature. She had a full blown fever. It wasn’t long until the Dr. Came in and told us that the fever meant Stacy had an infection. Boudreaux would have the infection too. The only chance he would have would be to deliver him. Officially we were at 23 weeks 6 days gestation. One day shy of the magic 24.
We had been told a bit about emergency C-sections. How they could get the baby out in just a couple minutes if they had too. After what seemed like forever they took Stacy back to prep for surgery.
By this time Stacy’s Aunt, cousin, and our pastor had arrived at the hospital. Then they came and got me. They started cutting at 7pm. I have never witnessed anything like that before. I expected a slow and calm surgery. It was quite a bit more rushed and violent than I was expecting. At 7:23 they pulled Greyson out and handed him to the neonatologist. I was too chicken to peek over the little curtain so I hadn’t seen anything, but I saw Boudreaux being handed over. I saw the Dr. Working to intubate him. I saw him pull the guide wire which I knew (from watching ER none the less!) that he had been successful in getting him intubated. He was SO SMALL!!! I just kept thinking…………he looks like a skinned rat. Sorry, but it’s the only image that came to mind. He’s soooooo small…..too small…..he’s too little to survive………
Well if you are reading this you know he did survive! Last Saturday we celebrated his third birthday.
It hasn’t been easy but Greyson is doing so well. Aside from the vocal cord paralysis (which we are still believing God is going to touch!) we couldn’t be happier. (oh yea, we named him Greyson on Wednesday the 26 after the TG hospital staff kept bugging us. We picked the name Greyson because you hear the sound of the word Grace when you say it. You also hear son. God has given us Grace to get through each day of this struggle through his son, so we find it fitting!)
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Pick up here if you skipped down:
Greyson continues to get braver and can take three or four steps easily. He now likes to use his walker to push up to things and then shoves his walker away. The scary part is when he wants to go back to his walker!