A second excerpt from 30 Days of Night…
September 22-Day 2 I am a Mom
I woke up to the sunlight in pain and groggy- one nurse (who I did not like) had been in and out of the room giving me pain killers and trying to get me to wear a belly band. She told me I would also have to try and get up from the bed the next day. I almost had her thrown out of the room, but I was knocked out and in pain. But when I awoke, a new nurse greeted me warmly and she was awesome. Your father had spent the night in the room and was attentive and ready for action.
For some reason, I had developed an affinity for oatmeal overnight so I had breakfast ordered in and quietly ate with you father right next to me. Both grandmothers were about to show up, so I wanted to make sure I was ready to receive them and more importantly, ready to get out of bed and see you.
The friendly nurse came in and gave me a status update on your well-being. Everything was fine and you were being treated and were still hooked up to an IV so they could not give you the colostrum yet. They mentioned they would use it for that night. That was the moment she mentioned it was time for me to try and get out of bed as it was a requirement to make sure that the surgery went as it should have- so we got ready to try.
If I thought that last night’s contractions had been bad, trying to get out of bed was equally painful and brutal. It took your father and the nurse to get me upright with me screaming in pain and tears in my eyes (you will realize that I’ve cried more during these thirty days than I have in the past ten years of my life). After that painful ordeal of them basically dragging me into a wheelchair so I could go down and see you in the NICU ward, I was finally sitting down and ready to go.
Your father gingerly wheeled me out of the room, both of our excitement evident as we made our way through the hallway to the 8th floor- until your father decided to use me as a bumper car and ram me into the elevator door. I remember cussing him to the end of the world because of the uncontrollable pain, but now I laugh at the thought.
We finally got to see you and my heart was so full, it almost exploded. That was when they handed you over to me so I could try and see if I could breastfeed you. Sure enough, the moment you were in arms I instinctively put you towards me breast and you latched on with no issues. I remember giving myself another mental high-five and a pat on the back. Your father was also pretty impressed and I was so proud.
It was you and me and our little moment.
Once we were finished, we went back upstairs as you still had to be monitored. Both grandmas were already in the room and smiling. My mother brought you the cutest white teddy bear with balloons and lollypops, and I immediately thought I wanted one.
We finalized all the paperwork to where your name read Livia Isabella Jackson. Why Livia? It was a strong name, one fit for queens. Livia had been the third wife of emperor Augustus of Rome and considered one of the strongest women in Roman history. My name, Alexandra, was strong and literally meant “Defender of Mankind.” I felt you needed something equally mighty. Despite being tiny at birth, you were small, but strong. Why Isabella? Your father and I fell in love with that name since the very beginning. We had thought about names even before I got pregnant and the name Isabella kept sticking. Plus it was an added bonus that we could call you Bella. Truth be told, your father has liked that name since he saw the movie Twilight.
We spent the day chatting and going over last night’s events. Family called, pictures were taken, and we rejoiced in the fact of your birth. It was a pretty quiet day as I was not ready to receive other visitors, but it was nice to have people that loved you there. It takes a village, and I was beginning to see that.
I still had colostrum I wanted to pump out for you, so I took another try at the pump and rocked on. I pumped out about 18 CCs and had it sent over to the NICU ward for you. Your father cheered me on as he helped me get the pump parts together and sat with me- he was like my pumping cheerleader.
That night I slept soundly and was excited for you to be discharged and in the room with us. I was a Mom.
Frida’s Nursery 