The first night of Mighty Z’s life was heartbreaking. There were no
well-wishers, no flowers, and no congratulations; people just didn’t
know what to say. My mom stayed with me that first night on the labor
and delivery floor. I was all right-- as all right as I could be
having my baby in the ICU. I was holding it together until the nurse
knocked on my door and told me that is was time for me to feed my
baby.
I quickly sat up thinking that maybe it all was just a bad dream and
maybe my baby was fine. Just as I thought that silly thought I heard
another nurse say, "No, that is the wrong room. This mother's baby is
dying."
How could my baby be dying when just hours before she had been
pronounced perfect??? Tears flowed down my cheeks as I felt a wave of
grief and anxiety wash over me. I felt helpless, weak, and hopeless.
Thankfully the nurses were wrong, but that night was one of the worst
nights of my life.
That was the night that I really knew my world had changed and that
St. John's Medical Center would be my home for the next six months.
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