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The story of Jonathan's birth

 

I don't usually write. But this year I feel I have to.
6 years have passed since my Jonathan (or as I call him - Mom's Yonatan Haim ???? ) was born.
6 years since the great professor told me that "he would be happy to see me in another week" and in the same breath suggested that we participate in his research. On the one hand, he tells us that the fetus does not have many chances, and on the other hand, he talks about his research. People can be very delusional in certain situations. We left there pretty shocked. But somehow we kept believing.

6 years since my best friend referred me to her doctor. The best advice I have ever received. The advice that in retrospect saved my child.

6 years since the nice and pleasant doctor told us: "Your life is going to change. Take the weekend. Have fun, hang out, go to a movie, have a good meal, pack a big bag and arrive at the hospital on Sunday. You are going to be hospitalized until the birth and you will have a difficult time until then and in Pagia.'
How right he was...
Welcome to the high-risk pregnancy department. Hi Rask. Endless monitors every day. Urine tests. blood tests. Ultrasound. Injections for cooking lungs. Dozens of doctors. interns sisters. and even psychologically. Some don't understand. how could it be? She has no water. The fetus is small. The child needs her. And only the department manager repeats and says: "Greedy here at least until week 32. At least."
I will never forget the regular routine every weekend when the intern on duty moves me to the delivery room and wants to operate on me as soon as possible. Because he sees slowdowns. Because he sees that there is no amniotic fluid. Because the fetus is really small. And again the head of the department: "Greedy here until week 32".
In between, in this difficult place, a sisterhood of girls is formed. Each with her own story. They are all expecting. All are at risk. passing the time together. We become friends. listening laughing playing taqui in the kitchen. eating together You know the couple and the families. bonding
The mental difficulty is always in the background. Worry mixed with hope and faith.
Then - 10 Bab.
There are several women lying with me who planned the caesarean section for this date. "It's very special." "I specifically asked."
And me? I just want to have a child. live. breathing healthy. Who cares about the date? I wonder to myself, how come they don't notice the obvious miracle they are experiencing when a few meters from them are lying women who are not sure that they left with their hands full?
Sweet Liron brings me perfume. Still, Valentine's Day. Allowing myself to be a little "happy". Already in the private room. The oldest in the hospital. The companies have already given birth, are recovering, the babies are in Phegia.
attached to the monitor. the entire evening. The fetus is not calm today. In 3 more days I am supposed to have a child. Letting Liron go home. It's already late. take a rest In a few minutes I will probably be cut off.
So that's it, they didn't hang up.
The nurse comes in worried. There are slowdowns. I have to put you on oxygen. It's not the first time, so I'm not excited. Call a doctor urgently. Ultrasound again. They hook me up to a monitor all night. Early in the morning we hang up. We will wait for the senior doctor to arrive in the morning.
And he is coming. "What would be greedy?"

I'm fed up, I tell him.

"So let's analyze today."
No problem. On one condition - that you do it.

and so it was. After a few hours, I find myself in an operating room. Own. This is an emergency surgery. Not the happiest in the world. The spouse cannot enter.
A nice young doctor approaches me: "If he's breathing, we'll let you kiss him quickly and we'll take him to intensive care quickly." Oh My God. What did she just say to me?! Let him breathe! Let him cry!
cut A quarter of an hour passes. I'm stressed. The doctor pushes with me to calm me down. "Don't cut like that. Greedy wants to go with a bikini. Greedy, don't worry...'
Take out the fetus. he is crying!!!!!! Yessssssssssssssss!!!! He's breathing!!!!!!! I have never been so happy. The boy N-W-S-M! live! Thank God!
"Quickly consider him," says the doctor. "I want to know if I was right in my weight assessment."
785 grams. Street market. I secretly hoped he was wrong. which weighs much more. I buy a kilo, I would tell Liron. kilo. But it is less. less than a kilo of sugar. Take a kilo of sugar at home. You must have. pick up Jonathan weighs less.
"You see, I'm greedy, I'm never wrong," he tells me, peeking and smiling from behind the curtain.
I smiled faintly. Lovely doctor. tries and manages to cheer me up a little. Thanks to him I went through the surgery.
quick quick now They bring it to me. quick kiss as quickly as possible. Straight to the incubator. Running to intensive care. And that's it. I have no idea what they are doing to him.
When you give birth prematurely, no one puts it on your chest. There is no hug and touch from mom and dad. No warmth, love, caresses, first words, excitement. There is survival. worry. A roller coaster that starts now and we never know when we'll get off it. And lots and lots of faith.
recovery. Excruciating pain. What about the boy, Liron? how is he? What do we do to him? what is his situation
It will be fine, he answers me. take care of him. He is in intensive care. He is not breathing!!! would you believe Those shots did their job. He has a platelet problem. They gave him a blood transfusion. Do not worry.
My whole family came to visit. Good luck, they say. Mazel Tov? I do not think so. The child is not with me. he is there
One of the most difficult things was that the high-risk department was inside the maternity department (fortunately, I recently found out that they separated the departments and established a new department). Maternity is a happy place. The happiest in the hospital. Families coming to visit. Balloons fly in their rooms. bear a caption with the gender of the newborn. And the fruits oh the fruits. Fruit baskets full of goodies. How I wanted one like this. How I wanted a balloon. But when you give birth prematurely, you don't get all these levels. Are you more concerned with how you will be able to go alone to the hospital after the operation to see your child? How will you express milk? What will happen to him? Platelets? brain? kidneys? liver? heart? Stomach? So many things to worry about. So many organs! Everything is essential. Everything has to function.
midnight. Own. It is difficult for Liron to sleep in hospitals. A lovely apprentice nurse that I will never forget, helps me out of bed. I must recover as soon as possible. There are 785 grams that I need. first steps. Intense pain. And there at my surgeon's desk. "Greedy, you should already run a marathon," he laughs. "Don't worry", he tells me again (at a later stage he will come to visit the child in Pegaia. He will find out how he is and tell the intensive care manager: "You see, I told the mother that she has nothing to worry about").
Pagya was the hardest time of my life. If I thought hospitalization was terrible (I felt like I was in prison), I just didn't understand how hard it is to be in a hospital. Although I remember every detail, it is difficult for me to write about it in detail. Therefore, I will share only a few anecdotes.
Doctors and nurses: "You have to pump milk." Breast milk is the best medicine for the fetus.'
A mantra that repeats all the time. I had a very hard time with it. I felt like brainwashed. Go and explain that you gave birth prematurely and the body is not responding properly. Go explain that you are under pressure.
But you have to pump. every 3 hours.
3 days after surgery. Got up in the middle of the night to the suction room in Pagia. A little explanation: pumping is not just pumping. It's disinfecting, washing, vacuuming, disinfecting again, washing again, labeling, cooling. Complete procedure. I'm alone in the suction room. Barely 8 cc comes out after 40 minutes of pumping, sweat and tears. Taking a syringe (yes, a syringe. It's a miniature amount). Pour the milk there. Everything spilled. You realize I forgot to close with a cap. Closes fast. I managed to save 3 cc. Crying like I've never cried before. Despite the stitches. Who said you don't cry over spilled milk?
From Pagya clichés: "If you haven't been contacted, everything is fine. If the doctor calls you, it's not good.' "There is no constant increase in Pagina. There are days there is progress and there are days there is retreat.'
So the doctor called us. Indeed, we have had good days. But, as we said, there is no constant increase...
"After a long time we were able to take a urine test and the baby has CMV. Don't know if it is congenital or acquired. If it is congenital - .... Or in short: terrible. If not, it's just auditory tracking. Luckily for you, we are the only hospital in Israel that takes a saliva sample from the newborn and this will help us decide.'
shock. I did not expect this. I was sure we would break the statistics. "The only premature baby who didn't stop improving until he was released! medical miracle". Ha ha ha, God told me. Cry, cry a lot. And once again cry. Waiting eagerly for answers. Endless chapters of Psalms and prayers.
The answers were good 🙂
release call Enter the doctor. One hour call. We discovered things we didn't even know he had. 12 pages of release letter. 10 follow-up clinics. surgery that needs to be done. Liver problem. A special medicine is needed. And more... we still felt that we got out relatively cheaply.
"Jonathan," I would whisper to him. "Do me a favor, let's get free before the holidays. I don't want to be here in the hotel. I really don't feel like it. Have pity on mother.' Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot - we spent all of them at Pegia. On the day Jonathan was supposed to be released, he decided to lose weight... a genius ☹️
And then the long-awaited phone call from my favorite nurse: "Hagit, you are released today!". Bliss.
You don't have to come to Pagia anymore! Free at last!
We went through a difficult time at home, we returned to the hospital many more times. There were also hospitalizations. And yet every time we returned home, I felt relieved - at least we are sleeping at home.
Raising a Peg is not easy. There are many challenges. Need a lot of patience. It takes a lot of faith. And also determination - hear a few opinions, go to the best experts, respond calmly, read, learn, invest. This is a different kind of investment.
There are more and less difficult cases. I'm sure. That's not the point. The thing is, it's not normal. Nothing about this "experience" is normal. People give birth, are released after a few days and return home to gas and diapers. There is no visible miracle from this. People are not aware that a few meters from the babies, there are premature babies and next to them are worried parents who did not get this miracle.
Premature babies don't come home after a few days. There is no complete domestication. There is no first shower with mom and dad. No direct contact. No breastfeeding. These are "privileges" that only exist in a normal birth. Even changing a diaper is a nightmare. Imagine changing a diaper with dozens of tubes attached, a tiny baby, when there are only 2 holes through which you can insert your hands.
What is there? Some nights the child is left in the hospital. and he cries And we don't always approach it.
There are pangs of conscience. difficult
There are tears. Lots. Lots and lots of tears.
There are endless pumpings.
There are doctors, nurses and staff. Good people who do holy work and save the lives of helpless babies.
There is hope and faith. You can't survive without it. You can't succeed without it.
there, I'm done. You must be curious, what about Yonatan (Yonatan Haim - in his full name)?
He is a lovely boy Smart, smiling and playful who will go to first grade next year, God willing!
He is our private miracle, our superhero, who is celebrating 6 years these days.
He has been through a lot in life, from less than a kilo of sugar to kilos of joy and playfulness.
We thank God for giving us this gift.
I get excited every year. Excited about every party (go explain to the mothers why you cry at the Hanukkah party...), event, drawing, jumping, new thing he does. From every smallest step he goes up the ladder of life.
Proud of you my Jonathan. Love you. I wish you much health and happiness. Congratulations and thank you!

 

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