About Max

Max, 2 days old

Max is a 10 year baby, as in he took my husband and I 10 years to conceive. People get excited about having a baby, and for us that was an understatement. We knew he was a little dude at our 13 week ultrasound- the ultrasound tech pointed out how the genital tubercle was greater than 30 degrees, so we were safe buying things in shades of blue.

My pregnancy was fairly uneventful – I continued in my resident physician training, working 80 hours a week, with a large bottle of water and some crackers in my pocket. And since I am a physician, I know enough information to be dangerous, so I had already been monitoring my blood pressures and blood sugars in my first trimester. It was subtle, the slow upward creeping of my blood pressure. My hands were numb from pregnancy-induced carpal tunnel syndrome. My legs were insanely swollen. I still chalked a lot of it up to the stress of my work. I wasn’t until I developed proteinuria during my 30th week of pregnancy that things started turning. The goal was to get to 34 weeks – the best chance at staying at our small-town hospital and its Level 2 nursery. We did steroids and bedrest. We ended up on the labor floor twice- once for a huge spike in the proteinuria, and the other for a nonreactive nonstress test in the OB’s office. Multiple ultrasounds showed he wasn’t growing. The signs were on the wall- deliver now, knowing he would be small and would probably struggle, or wait longer and risk both of our lives.

Max was born on Pi Day, the 14th of March, at 1500 in the afternoon, weighing 1600 grams and was 17 inches long. I don’t know about you, but that running line of numbers makes me think he’s destined to have a career in math or physics. Add in that it is Albert Einstein’s birthday as well – I think it’s a given. It was also a Monday, and what a way to start a week!

At 34 weeks and 4 days gestational age, he was tiny. I hadn’t seen a baby so small since my NICU rotation in medical school. So tiny and yet so perfect. We spent 18 days in the Special Care Nursery. Every one of those days was filled with triumphs and setbacks, and luckily for us, it was mostly a lot of the former. Doctor Me looks back at the NG feeds and elevated bili levels, the apnea of prematurity and the “feeding and growing” and thinks “He was a really good little preemie.” Mommy Me cried and prayed and fought off nightmares of being shipped to a level 3 nursery. In the end, everything was ok. He weened off his oxygen. He’s grown like a weed. He eats like a horse. He’s now at a stage where he giggles and smiles. He’s much different than the little peanut in the isolette with baggy knees and a baggy butt, who couldn’t deal with excessive external stimulation. He just a smidge behind on his milestones for his actual age, but adjusted he’s really ahead of the game.

This blog is a celebration of Max – from birth to now, every milestone be it the transition from preemie diapers to the newborn size, or just the little things like holding his hands midline.  In addition, it’s a message to those parents out there who’s baby is still in the nursery/NICU- hang in there. Take joy in the triumphs, and work through the setbacks. You’re not alone.

My appreciation goes out to my OB-GYN, who was and is one of the most amazing physicians I know, the Labor and Postpartum nurses who took care of me, the nursery nurses, and family medicine docs and pediatricians who took care of Max. Also my love and appreciation to my family who has been there through this journey, and most of all, my husband who took care of me when I was sick, and now is a stay-at-home parent for our little dude. He also documented most of Max’s journey in the nursery with his camera, so a lot of the early pictures are through his eyes.