Day 5 & 6

Hugo has more good days and nights. He is still breathing on his own and he worked out his digestion just fine. He had a spell one evening but recovered in little time. Nolan and I love learning more about how we can be with him and bond.

Daddy enjoys being able to give Hugo boundaries to help him soothe and to feel connected. He also likes to give Hugo his pacifier to suck. The other day Hugo sucked on his pacifier as he was fed through the tube which is a good exercise. It's a long road but he needs to be able to suck, swallow, and breathe at the same time before he can go home. Starting to connect the sucking motion with food is a good baby step to start.

On Sunday Grandma Bush arrived to meet the baby boy. She had to wear a mask but she was happy to do it in order to spend time with the new arrival. We were happy to see that Hugo has now graduated to some clothes! He is regulating his own temperature just fine so they were able to put a little outfit on him. Grandma Bush thought it looked like a tiny magician's robe.

The nurse made us this wonderful scrapbook page with a few pictures and Hugo's tiny footprints. It will be such a wonder to look back on the size difference once he comes home. We're so grateful for this little gift and that the nurses do such a great job of looking after Hugo as well as Nolan and me!

The Whole Truth Part 3

I feel a lot of things now. I feel terrified. I feel confused. I feel like I should ask questions but I don't know which questions to ask. The nurses and doctors provide wonderful care but I worry that he'll think that one of them is mommy and not me. I wish I could hold him. We were given a brief precious gift but it will be at least a week now until we're allowed again. I'm married to my horrible breast pump with an awful determination to maintain the proper schedule. It's the one thing I can do for my little boy and I will do it.

I know this is not my fault but I can't help feeling guilty. He should be inside me safe and snug not exposed to the world and hooked up to medical equipment. I need time to adjust to this reality. I feel turned inside out physically and mentally. Nothing is normal anymore. We're doing our best to create a new normal.

Just because Hugo is doing well doesn't mean that everything is golden. He could take a turn at any time. As the doctors have told us, he'll probably have some scares. That's what preemies do.

I regret I only took one profile picture of myself while pregnant. Why didn't I take more pictures! I thought I'd have more time. Nolan told me we should take pictures and I didn't because I felt constantly unkempt and sweaty. I should have had more time.

I should go back to work while Hugo is in the hospital. One is only given so much time off. How will I manage it? Will I ever find a balance where I feel I'm spending enough time with my son but living the life I need to in order to support him? Will I ever forgive myself if something happens and I am away? I have coworkers who are pregnant. We were all due at within a week of each other. Now I will watch them grow the rest of their third trimesters as they anticipate the births of their full-term babies. Will I be able to do it without crying every single day? Will I be able to be happy for them while my baby is hooked up to wires and not in my arms?

Nolan and I look forward to discovering our own silver linings as we navigate this new world we never expected to be a part of. We're already a little more comfortable providing Hugo boundaries. It's so elating to be able to soothe him a bit. He's so tiny but so strong for such a tiny thing. He already opens his eyes a bit and we like to think that he can start recognizing our faces. Nurses may come and go but Mommy and Daddy will always come back, over and over again. We have a few children's books which we read to him and hopefully soon, if his brain scan is good, we'll be able to start holding him.

This is my whole truth. The truth of Hugo's birth and life. We're so grateful and overjoyed he is here and that he is ours. We look forward to the days and years to come. 

The Whole Truth Part 2

Please, read Part 1 before this post.

When I was wheeled in to see him the first time after they had taken him from labor and delivery he was stable. Full of wires and tubes, he was perfect, the most magnificent baby boy I had ever laid eyes on. Then he cried. And I wept. There he was, my little boy, the most perfect little boy, crying. And I couldn't reach out to touch him. I couldn't cradle him, stroke him, hold him close. All I could do was watch him writhe and cry. The nurse kindly took my hand toward him and he wrapped his tiny fingers around mine. He didn't stop crying.

The postpartum room I was moved into was on the 3rd floor, way in the back where they were doing construction. Hugo was on the 6th floor. It was perhaps a third of the size of the antepartum room. There was a hospital bed and a chair that pulled out for Nolan to sleep on. No other furniture could fit. The bathroom was tiny and cramped. There was no tub, but a shower with a chair. The room was dark and unwelcoming. I suppose it would not have been such a let down had I not seen the wondrous rooms on the 6th floor. The rooms that were only a few steps away from my precious little boy. At least the congratulations envelope from the library and the green package trussed in colored twine were on the tray.

The nurse told me I'd have to go to the bathroom and then proceeded to give me instructions while she ran the sink water. When she turned around and saw me inactive she said with a little incredulity, "Well, I guess I'll give you some privacy?" I looked back at her and said, "I couldn't hear you." I didn't even realize she was talking while running the water. Everything was hazy, unclear. I felt so alone in that dark, little room without my baby. I was lead to the bed. I could hear babies crying in other rooms.  The nurse wheeled a pump to me. "Here is your pump." I looked at it. "What do I do with it?" "No one has talked to you?" There wasn't kindness in her voice. More annoyed that it was her responsibility. Was this not in her job description? Had someone forgotten me? "Hold them here. press the button, and lean forward. 15-20 minutes. You might not get anything. Are you going to try?" "If it's going to help him I'll do anything. I should do it now, shouldn't I?"

Tuesday is a blur. The day nurse was much more helpful and kind. I wanted to see our boy. I wanted to know how he was doing and everything about his situation I could know. It was amazing to look at him and know that only a few short hours ago he was in me. That's what had been in there all along! He is mine. I have never felt such love before. The list of things to do, places to be, and people to talk to was never so long. We flew from place to place and person to person exhausted by the end. Nolan was able to be with Hugo when I wasn't, learning a little about likes and dislikes, he was able to help change a diaper and take a temperature. He told me he mostly watched. Every plan stopped when Nolan called me. They were moving him out of intensive unit and during the transition we were allowed to hold him. That was the happiest moment of my day. Hugo slept pretty peacefully in my arms but he fussed a little for Daddy and Daddy got nervous. Hugo calmed down and I took him back again. Then into the incubator and to the new location.

Wednesday morning in the incubator the nurse asked if we wanted to help take his temperature and change his diaper. I didn't feel ready. Nolan wanted so badly to help. Before he tried to take the temperature the nurse switched around a lot of his wires. Hugo was fussy and unhappy to be disturbed. Seared into my brain is the image of Nolan with his arms in the incubator, thermometer in hand, desperately watching his son flail and cry, not knowing what to do. He stood for a while, then overwhelmed asked the nurse to take over. He came over to me, broke down, and sobbed. How helpless we both were to help our helpless little boy.

The day passed too quickly with the dreaded hospital discharge looming. We both hated that room. But the reality was that leaving it meant being farther away from Hugo. We postponed it as long as we could but it had to come. We gathered up our things. We had quite a few. We thought I'd be there longer. We had hoped I'd be there longer. I felt horrible walking to the car without a baby. What kind of monster leaves her child behind? He wasn't going to be up a few floors. Now he's a drive away. That first evening at home was one of the lowest days of my life. I don't think I've ever cried so much. I could pull it together for small distractions but would eventually sob uncontrollably. I couldn't wait to go back to the hospital the next day. Even though I couldn't do anything I just want to be in the same room with him.

The Whole Truth Part 1

I know I have much to be grateful for. We are so grateful that Hugo is stable, that he loves breathing room air, that he has so far only spelled once, that he moves and cries and sucks on his pacifier, that he has responded to the phototherapy lights. We are so grateful he made it to 30 weeks gestation and the pregnancy was beforehand uncomplicated. We are so grateful that pumping has been going well for me and we’re able to provide him with milk. We are so grateful that we made it to the hospital with enough time to receive the steroid shots and the magnesium. We are so grateful that the nurses and doctors during labor were so kind and helpful. We are so grateful that we are at the University of Iowa Hospital which is one of the best in the state/region for NICU care. We are so grateful that we have family who can come and visit us so we can be at the hospital as much as we want. We are grateful that Nolan’s classes have not yet started so he has been by my side and Hugo's side the entire time. We are grateful for people who have shared their love for us.

The whole truth is more complex. It's a fine thread separating the most intimate, fantastic, and wonderful moments I’ve ever experienced, and the most frightening, harrowing, and traumatic ordeal of my life. When I think of the moment Hugo arrived in this world and the doctor announced he was a boy I want to cry. It was the most miraculous moment of my life. Looking at him, looking at Nolan, knowing he was our little boy that we had brought into the world. When I think of the events surrounding Hugo's birth I want to cry. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. He's not supposed to be here. He's supposed to be inside me still and I failed to keep him safe. I remember being on the labor and delivery bed and realizing that it wasn't just the baby. It was Nolan. I was carrying Nolan's child. I was endangering his baby. I cried and apologized to him over and over again that I wasn't able to carry his child to term. I failed him too.

I avoided telling Nolan I was experiencing pain on Friday evening. Nolan tends to worry and I didn’t have anything even close to preterm labor in mind as a possibility. I felt silly calling the hospital. I had no idea what a contraction felt like. I just knew I had pains that came at semi-regular intervals. I was probably making a big deal out of nothing.

At the hospital, when they told me I was indeed having contractions, I didn’t know what to think or what to do. Although there were more tests to be done, they told me I didn’t look like someone who was in labor. I suppose I wasn’t moaning and I didn’t have the urge to punch anyone in the face. When they found out I was dilated to 4 cm the worry set in. Without dilation it could have been Braxton Hicks. With dilation it was labor.

The doctors gave me all the answers they could but I still felt confused and alone. All the literature about birthing is about how to progress your labor. What do you do when you want it not to happen or slow it down? I kept asking what I was supposed to do and no one could tell me. I couldn’t do anything. I was stuck in a hospital bed for an undecided amount of time for a reason I couldn’t be sure was happening which could change at any moment but no one would know when. Saturday was long. I was hoping everything would stop and I would be able to go home. I could walk around at 4 cm dilated no problem, I was told. But then it was 5 cm. Still not a problem. It could stop. We could all go home. The contractions slowed way down. Everything was going to be fine, right? But then it was 6-7 cm. I wasn’t going home.

I felt confused. The contractions were coming 1-2 hours apart, they were minorly painful, how could this be happening? What was happening? Did I have any more questions, they would ask. Just one. Am I having a baby? We don’t know. We can’t say. What do I do? Then they would explain to me once more that they don’t know the reasons preterm labor happens. Was that the answer to my question? It sure didn’t feel like it.

When they moved me to antepartum the room was very nice. There was a lovely green box trussed up in colored twine, and an envelope that said, "Congratulations!" from the local library. I knew there was probably a children's book inside. The accompanying folder contained pamphlets on caring for your newborn child. The room was clearly not set up for me. The nurse came in to situate me and saw the items on the tray. "I'll take these." She said, "They're for people who have already given birth. You'll get one someday." I knew the moment I saw the items that they were not for me. And I knew that they would be removed. But it stung. It felt like I was to be denied nice things because I was doing it wrong. The room was essentially house arrest. My life was going to be on hold for an undetermined amount of time and I was constrained to the surrounding walls. I was torn between the desire to get it all over with and the knowledge that everyday spent in the womb was better for my child.

I had many visitors during these few days. Some brought treats, another brought a puzzle, and others came by to catch up and check up. It was nice to have distractions in my uncertainty. I was getting used to the idea that I was going to be there for a while. Contractions were getting closer together but not all that more painful. It wasn't until I started feeling the pain toward the back that they checked again. I was 7 cm, maybe a bit more, and they were going to move me back to Labor and Delivery. Back on the Magnesium, things slowed down again. They had a hard time picking up the contractions on the monitor which meant it was up to me to keep them informed of any changes. When I told them the contractions were a little stronger they checked. I was at 8 cm. Was I going to have a baby? We don't know. We're not doing anything to progress your labor but we're not able to stop it. I was offered the epidural and I worried it would cut me off from my body. That I wouldn't be able to tell them something important if there were a change. They reassured me that would not be the case. I would still be able to feel but the pain would be removed. It was completely my choice. Nolan and I knew I needed rest if everything were to progress. I took the epidural. When I started feeling more pressure in the back they checked again. 10 cm, time to go. At least I had my answer to "Am I Having a Baby?".

It's hard to remember birth. Intensity, breath, push, intensity, breath, push. Doctors, nurses, residents, students, NICU team, Nolan. You're so close. You said that last time. Baby's heart rate dropped. It went back up again. Maybe forceps, maybe not. We're going to give you a cut to help baby get out. Will I feel it? No, just pressure. Intensity, breath, push. It's a boy! Tears, joy, Nolan. Nolan went to the baby's side. Busyness. One of the doctors somehow had Nolan's phone. She came over with pictures while the residents and nurses tended to me and the NICU team tended to Hugo. Then they were able to bring him over. So tiny, so perfect, so beautiful. I cradled him on my upper left close to my cheek. and kissed his forehead. I was so overwhelmed. I didn't know if I could do anything else. He looked so very delicate and I didn't want to cause him any damage before the NICU team could tend to him. He was wheeled away. After tending to the placenta and the uterus and sewing me up there was a moment where everyone stepped out of the room. I was completely alone for the first time in months.

Day 3 & 4

Hugo has been doing well. We're so proud and happy of our little boy. I was discharged from the hospital on Wednesday and there were lots of emotions as we made our way out the door with only the belongings I thought I'd need while in antepartum.

The next day Hugo was ready to try life without his nasal tube. He did great! We couldn't be happier that he seems more than happy at this time to support himself breathing room air.

Hugo has been to the tanning booth a couple of times to address his bilirubin levels. This will probably be a reoccurring treatment but it's very normal and not a problem as long as he continues to respond to the phototherapy (the blue lights).

He had some residuals in his stomach which meant that he hadn't yet digested his leftovers. The x-ray to rule out anything else revealed a little case of gas. He went to feeding from his IV for a day to give his gut a chance to get back to normal. They resumed feeding him through the tube a little bit on Friday. The doctors have told us that Hugo's movements indicate that he's healthy. Particularly hip movements which take a lot of strength and effort.

Hugo's First 24 Hours

Hugo's first 24 hours were a tremendous success. All his vital signs were stable, they were able to remove the umbilical line in favor of a PICC line, and they were able to remove the CPAP type breathing assistance in favor of a nasal tube. We feel so grateful to have such good care for him.

The day was a whirlwind for us. Between meeting each NICU nurse, NICU doctor, OB nurse, OB doctor, Lactation Consultant, Registrar, Social Worker (and more), and constant checks and medication for both Hugo and me (trying to be in two places at once), and papers and papers of information to read, sign, and consider we were exhausted. Since this is a teaching hospital, each meeting usually comes with one or more residents and additional students as well. Everyone has been very kind and taken the time to answer any questions we might have.

To end the day on a euphoric note, Hugo was moved to a less intensive wing of the NICU. He has graduated to an incubator and during the transition, we were allowed to hold him. Grandma and Grandpa Hauta arrived during this time and were able to be with us before he was put in his incubator.

Hugo has a long way to go. At this time doctors tell us to assume his discharge date will but around his due date (Oct 16, 2017). But we're so happy he has had such a strong beginning!

Baby Hauta

After a picture perfect pregnancy, Baby Hauta decided that he was so excited to see the world that he wanted to come a bit early!

On Friday evening on August 4th, I began experiencing periodic pains which at first I thought were just painful gas. But as the evening wore on, I began to notice that the pains were becoming more frequent and regular. We called the doctor's office and they told us to go to the hospital to get checked. We hurried to the hospital and I was informed that I was in fact having contractions and was 4 cm dilated. I was immediately put on medication to help the baby develop and try and stop the labor from progressing.

Saturday I was checked again and I had dilated to 5 cm, but the contractions were slowing down to maybe one every hour. Sunday I had dilated to a 6 or 7 but the decision was made to take me off the medication and move me into an antepartum ward for monitoring.

Monday, August 7th, my contractions had increased once more and checks showed I was a solid 7 cm dilated. They moved me back into a labor and delivery room. The baby was coming!

After dilating to 8 cm I received an epidural. I was able to take a much need nap and contractions increased to only 5 minutes apart. At 8:30 pm, they broke my water. After only 25 minutes of pushing Baby Hauta came into this world at 10:05 pm. We did not know if we were having a boy or a girl so along with the surprise early delivery we were happy to learn that the baby was a boy!

Hugo Edward Hauta weighed 3 lbs 7.5 oz and arrived at exactly 30 weeks gestation on August 7, 2017

He immediately breathed a little on his own and we both got to hold him for a moment before he was whisked off to the NICU. Hugo is doing really well and is already breathing the same air we breathe. He is the most stable baby in NICU Bay 1 and could very soon get moved to a less intensive unit. At the moment, mom and dad can't hold him, but they can put their fingers into touch.

Welcome to the world Hugo!

We will keep updating Hugo's progress on this blog. Check back to follow us on our new journey!

Many people will want to know how they can help us during this time. Here are some good ideas for tips on how to help parents of premature babies:

http://www.preemiebabies101.com/my-friend-had-a-preemie-how-can-i-help/
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/17-ways-to-help-preemie-parents-in-the-nicu_us_582f4d65e4b0eaa5f14d441d
https://necsociety.org/2014/02/23/10-incredible-gifts-for-nicu-families/