Maxwell Edison Blair--Part 1

I guess now is as good a time as any to get this post finished. Today Max is one week old. Today I should be 34 weeks pregnant. That guy just thought it would be best to come meet us sooner than expected.

On December 26th, we started our drive to California. I was booked to shoot a wedding at the LA temple on December 28th. Aside from waking up to a blizzard, all of us having nasty colds, and not leaving quite when we wanted to that morning...the drive started just like any other. We took it a little slower, considering the snow. Plus there was quite a bit of holiday traffic.

About two hours into the drive, I started feeling worse. I figured it was just my cold. I had a headache and my body just ached all over. We started stopping pretty much every time we had the chance. Beaver, Cedar City, and so on. I started feeling worse, trying to sleep as much as I could. Still, I just thought it was a cold that was maybe actually turning out to be the flu. Or maybe I was just getting carsick? I didn't know, all I knew was I was miserable and I wanted to be in California already. I hate that drive.

In St. George, we thought about going to an insta-care. I called my Dr. to see what I could take to make my cold at least a little less annoying. The wait time at the insta-care was an hour and a half. No way. I wasn't going to put our drive off for that much longer. We kept driving, meanwhile I kept feeling worse and worse. 

We were almost to Baker and my stomach just couldn't handle it anymore. My chips and juice came back up. Little did I know that how I'd been feeling before was pleasant. Whilst losing my "lunch" I pulled the muscles in my neck. That was minor. I started having intense pain all through my abdomen, all through my back up to my neck on my right side. The pain was sharp, constant and pretty intense, but I could bare it. We were about three hours away. No big deal, the drive was almost over. Aaron gave me a blessing. I love him.

An hour passed and my brother, Brock called to see where we were. At the end of that phone call, I asked him to ask my dad to be ready to give me a blessing with Aaron when we got there. My pain had reached new levels.

We got to Victorville. Finally. We were so close. Only a little over an hour and we'd be there. We stopped to get gas and I suddenly decided to call my mom. As soon as I heard her voice, I started crying. It was like I was reverting back to childhood. I hurt and all I wanted was my mom and dad. I asked her what labor felt like. I'd never been in labor before. I didn't know what it felt like. I explained the pain I was feeling. Knowing my mom...like everyone that's met her knows her, I expected her to say, "you're almost here, stop being a baby. You'll be fine."

She didn't say that.

She told me, "get to a hospital."

That's when I started to panic. Lots of tears started at this point. I didn't want to go to the hospital, I never do. Who does really? In the back of my mind I thought it was just the worst gas pains to ever happen. Ever. In my mind, I'd get there and they'd roll their eyes at me and send me on my way. My mom said, "go to the hospital, we'll leave now and meet you there."

We googled Victorville hospitals. The Victor Valley Community Hospital was the first on the list. It was also the closest. We headed there and told my parents where to meet us.

Walking into the "hospital" made me sick. It was old, crowded, dark and dirty. But it was a hospital. I got in line. Before I even got to the front of the line, Aaron parked the car and made it inside with the boys.

He told them what I was feeling and they sent me straight back to ambulatory services. A little relief came over me. There weren't any chairs available in the ER. It was that crowded, I thought we'd be waiting forever.

We headed to ambulatory services where there were...no people. Not a single person. Dr's, nurses, sick humans, no one. Aaron started yelling "hello?" Not a soul in sight. We headed to labor and delivery. There were a few nurses in there sitting around talking. I told them what was happening. Their hospitality was dismal at best. I explained my pain, and told them I was 33 weeks. They looked at me and one of them said, "ok let me take you to a bed." Then I heard her say to another nurse, "what do you think we should do?" 

I should have walked out the door at that point. 

They put me in a room, got me hooked up to monitors and the list of questions started. 

...I'm 26

..7th pregnancy

...two prior c-sections

....not allergic to any medications

....The list goes on and on. 

They stood around for a little bit. Meanwhile I'm still in pain. They don't seem bothered by it. I can feel them rolling their eyes at my cries. They decide to give me an IV because I was so dehydrated. Then they left the room. And we waited, and waited. When they came back in, they said they were going to do an ultrasound. They kept asking me to lay on my back which was excruciating. Then they'd give me attitude when I needed a minute to roll over. The nurse yelled at me for moving when I was getting my IV put in. I was moving because I've never had such a hack job while getting an IV. She tried again in the other hand. I was like a freaking statue. She still screwed it up. 

Awesome.

Another nurse came in, she was a lot nicer but still...they hate patients. I'm sure of it. Heaven forbid something interrupt their gossip time. 

My parents, Brock and Becca finally arrived, which means we'd been there for a while. This also meant I didn't have to wait alone anymore. (No kids were allowed in labor and delivery so Aaron had been in the waiting area this whole time.) My dad and Aaron gave me a blessing. The Priesthood is incredible. 

The ultrasound tech was an angel. Seriously. I wish she could have been the nurse. She was calming and kind and compassionate. I needed her. I was grateful she was there. So grateful, I may have dosed off for just a second while she was in the room. 

After she left, we waited. For. A. Long. Time. The nurses finally came back in and told me that the OB doctor on call wasn't comfortable treating my pain so they were going to send me to the ER for that. WHAT?

What IS this place? 

However, I had to wait for one of their beds to become available and then they would take me down there. We waited, again. Forever. 

Finally they took me down to the ER, to SIT IN A CHAIR. I was livid, but in too much pain to do anything about it. My dad took the boys to get dinner. Finally they would eat dinner. At eh, about 1:30 in the morning. Ugh. Mom of the year? Sure.

I sat in that chair and waited, and waited, and waited. Finally we asked someone what the hold up was. They were waiting for a bed in the "other ER". I'm not sure what that means, the only thing I could think of was that we were in the overflow of the ER. I saw patient after patient come in and leave, having been taken care of. We asked again.

Still waiting for an empty bed. 

We asked if they could at least give me something for my pain. They responded with, "we can only give her tylenol, because she's pregnant." 

I had that in my car. (Side-note: I know they have to be more careful due to the rise in drug seekers. But come on, Tylenol?)

They wouldn't even give me water. "Just in case." Even with having the IV for a few hours,  I was still so thirsty. Keep in mind, my nose had been stuffy and I'd been breathing only through my mouth, for hours. Finally someone brought me ice chips. Seriously, nurses and doctors just kept walking back in forth in front of me like I wasn't even there. 

This is when my "too nice to strangers" Dad started getting snippy. Demanding someone do something. Then ultimately deciding we need to go to a different hospital. 

That got their attention. They "advised against it." They thought we should keep waiting, for I don't know,  a few more hours? We'd already been there 5 hours, with nothing done but a poorly placed IV. My pain was worse, my exhaustion was at new levels of worse. The patience of my husband and my parents was absolutely diminished. After a bit of arguing between my three spokespeople and the nurses and PA, we decided we were leaving. I had to sign a few papers saying I was refusing treatment (if that's what you want to call it.) and leaving against advisement. 

We walked out. And I will never, ever return. Ever. 

My parents took our boys and our ever-so patient puppy and headed to their house, meanwhile, Aaron and I got in our car and he hauled tail to Henry Mayo Hospital. This hospital is minutes from my parents house, which means it's over an hour from where we were. 

He may have doubled the speed limit at times. And by maybe, I mean definitely. I felt horrible for him. I really did. He was exhausted from driving all day and he was doing his best to stay awake. He stayed awake, like a champ. We made it in 45 minutes. 

We got there sometime around 4? I'm not really sure. I tried sleeping most of the way, and luckily was pretty successful at doing so. Tender mercies. 

Sometime between leaving VVCH and getting to Henry Mayo, contractions started. I was in labor. This only intensified the pain I was already feeling, about every 5 minutes. When we got to Henry Mayo, I walked into the ER and wanted to cry. It was clean, bright and empty. I was helped immediately. They put me in a wheelchair and took me straight to labor and delivery, where I was immediately put into a bed. The nurses, were amazing. I was nervous. All I'd ever heard of Henry Mayo was negative. I wanted my hospital, my dr. What I'd heard was wrong. At least now. Everyone was amazing. 

The slew of questions started. I answered as best I could. My mind was giving up on me. I couldn't focus. Words were not coming to me. Aaron helped. He's the best. They handed him paperwork to fill out. Then, my ears heard the most glorious thing. 

"Let's get her something for the pain."

Hallelujah. 

After questioning the IV work from the previous hospital, they gave me another IV. They started fluids to get me hydrated because there was still a lack of that in my body. We told them the whole story of how I was ending up there. We boosted their egos, I'm sure. They deserved it.

The gave me something for pain. My insides felt like velvet. I fell asleep almost instantly. Fading in and out to answer questions being asked as best as I could. They woke me up, around 8. I was still in pain but nothing like I had felt before. I met him.  Dr. Izu. He very calmly talked to me about what was going on. Most of which I don't remember. I was pretty out of it. Something along the lines of, you're in labor, you're in pain, we don't know why. The baby's heart rate keeps dropping, we don't know why. Your white count was high on your blood work...we don't know why. Then, the words came out. The words I'd been dreading and hoping for all at once, mostly dreading. "You're going to have your baby today." 

Nope, this isn't happening. I have a wedding tomorrow. I can't have my baby today. My mom told me not to worry about it. Aaron sent a message to Cherie Starke to see if she could cover it for me today. That has been my worst nightmare since I started this business. Missing a wedding. I have literally had nightmares about it. Luckily, another mercy. Cherie was able to move her schedule around and shoot the wedding. I still stressed over it. I felt and still feel horrible about missing it. But I'm SO grateful to Cherie!

I was about to have a baby. I was terrified. He wasn't supposed to be here yet. I was only 33 weeks. It was too soon. He still needed to bake some more. I was trying my hardest to put all my faith in the doctor. 

I wasn't prepared. Emotionally, physically, mentally. ( I still don't think I've wrapped my head around it all.)

Because he was so early, he'd have to go to the NICU. I wasn't surprised by that. However, the NICU at Henry Mayo was full. He'd have to go to Northridge, 40 minutes away. A minor annoyance but if he was being taken care of, I didn't care. I just wanted him to be ok. All the papers were signed, the procedure was explained. We were fully informed of everything. 

They prepped me for the c-section. 

9:32 am, over 24 hours after we had started our drive to CA, Maxwell Edison Blair was born. 7 weeks premature.

He didn't cry right away. He was completely unresponsive. Those were the longest moments of my life. I just kept saying "cry, cry, cry!" I could hear the doctors that were working on him. They kept saying, "come on buddy, come on!" Aaron was recording it. Watching it afterwards....I'm glad I couldn't see what was happening. They were doing chest compressions, rubbing his legs, putting an oxygen mask on him...trying everything they could to get him to be responsive and breathe on his own. Finally, those first few squeaks came out. Tears flowed. Those cries were the best sound in the whole world.

They kept working on him to get him stable. They took his measurements. 4lbs 2 oz. Tiny. 17 inches long. They let Aaron cut the umbilical cord. That was his first time. He then came over to check on me. I told him I wanted him to go with Max to Northridge. I didn't want Max to be alone. He kissed me on the forehead and assured me everything would be ok. They brought Max over to see me for a minute. Aaron had to fight for it. I'm glad he did. I love him. I rested my face against Max's for a split second. I saw his beautiful, tiny face and they whisked him away. I tried my hardest to be strong. My doctor was amazing. He started a conversation with me, to keep my mind off of everything while he stitched me back up. I learned that he went to school in Provo. Hm. Small world. I learned that I had an infection in the placenta and that's what was causing all the issues. I also learned that I shouldn't have anymore children of my own. My uterus is so thin, it kept tearing when he was sewing me back up. I put that in the back of my mind. It was too much for one day.

Meanwhile, they took Max. Aaron was with him. And I felt better. My pains were gone.

 They cleaned him off, and stabilized him for transport to Northridge. My dad and Aaron were once again able to give a blessing. This time to the tiniest recipient. I can't express my gratitude for the Priesthood holders I have in my life. I am so lucky and grateful to have these two incredible men in my life! The spirit was so strong throughout this whole situation.

We had so much family around that day. They were a huge blessing. Brandon and Jeanessa headed to Santa Clarita as soon as they found out what was happening. Daniel, Kelsey and my parents were at the hospital with us too. I didn't get to see any of them at the time but their being there meant the world to me. I needed a support system more than ever that day.

Aaron spent a few moments with Max, soaking in every second he could before Max was transported. 

I wasn't there, but I was told, the nurse that was part of the transport team was adamant that they wait there until I was out of recovery so I could see my baby boy. 

This was a surprise to me. The happiest part of my day. 

 I held his tiny hand and told him I loved him. The transport team waited patiently for me. I just wanted to hold him. His tiny body looked so fragile in that incubator. I just wanted to wrap him up and hold him. But I couldn't. That's a feeling I can't describe. 

And then they took him. I knew he was in good hands and needed to go. But that didn't stop the tears. My mom stayed with me. Thank goodness. The last thing I needed was to be alone.

To be continued....

Aaron and my mom will be writing their points of view as well. Lots more to come!