Ezra's Story

About 10 months ago, I was going to be the head nurse for a new oncology and hematology clinic opening up within a certain large health corporation. I was going to be the only nurse working in the small clinic; mixing chemotherapy, caring for patients, giving treatments, and introducing a new doctor to the company. Unfortunately, the start of this path coincided with our plans of trying to conceive our second child. When you are pregnant or trying to conceive, you cannot mix chemotherapy. After two weeks of trying to conceive, we decided we should put off our plans to conceive until the clinic was up and running and required a second RN so that I could still take advantage of the career opportunity ahead of me. I remember the conversation with my manager about giving up the position because we were trying to conceive; then 2 weeks later telling her that we were waiting, so I could take to position after all. Our conversation ended with me saying, "So we decided we're not ready for another baby yet. So I CAN mix chemo. Unless, if by some chance I'm pregnant now...in which case, [looking down at belly] um, I still love and want you, baby!".

2 weeks later, I had an unexpected positive pregnancy test. We were surprised, but excited. This baby was obviously meant to be in our lives at that time. I was pretty bummed about giving up my career opportunity, but I have always loved being a mother more than my job, so it wasn't too big of a deal to me.

A week later, I had bright red bleeding. Terrified, I called my OB's office and the nurse warned me that I was likely having a miscarriage; due to my symptoms. She advised that I just "wait it out, because it was so early on and and before First Response tests were invented, women often didn't even know they were pregnant and just thought their period was late." Or I could come in for an ultrasound "just for my peace of mind". Of course I opted for the appointment.

Suddenly the baby we weren't sure we were ready for was all that mattered. I was seen by my OB's partner who identified the "pregnancy" on the ultrasound (she actually made a point to correct me when I called it a baby) and said my uterus was full of blood and there was a 50% chance of miscarriage. She said, "I'm sorry, but you'll just have to wait it out. But I wouldn't get attached if I were you."

Even though her words were in no way reassuring, I felt confident when I saw the little blob on the screen was going to be okay. A week later I was blessed(?) with the worst fatigue and nausea I could ever imagine. I KNEW things were okay at that point.

I continued to have to worst pregnancy symptoms up until about 17-18 weeks when we found out we were having a boy! The rest of the pregnancy went great. I even made it to the gym up to 37 weeks. At 38 weeks, I gave birth to our sweet Ezra James- weighing in at 7lbs 2 oz 18.5" long.

To be continued: Ezra's Birth Story