The Story of Zachary Steven
Zac's story begins with Andi's birth really. August 9, 1983. As I stood in the hospital hallway looking through the NICU window, I thanked God over and over that my baby was in the healthy nursery and not THAT one where the sick babies were. I stood and prayed for the babies and their families.
I went to visit my OB doctor six weeks after Andi's birth - just like a good patient does. After he finished his examination, he told me to make an appointment on my way out for next month. Being the good patient that I was, I had read up on this stuff and knew I only needed one postpartum appointment. So I casually mentioned that as I hopped off the table, glad that there would be no more of those exams for a long time to come.Well, yes, that's would be the case.........if you weren't pregnant."
It's a good thing I was already off the table, because I'm sure I would have fallen off had I not been.
"But I can't be pregnant! That's funny -- really -- that's a good one." I joked.
Turns out, my doctor is not a joker."Have you had sex since you gave birth?"
"Once." I said.
"Maybe you've heard this before but once is all it takes." he replied in his monotone voice."But I'm nursing -- you aren't supposed to be able to get pregnant while nursing."
"Hmmm" came the non-committal murmuring while he wrote in my chart and tsk-tsked me in his mind.
For Not Waiting.
At the same time, I'm sure he was imagining another round of OB fees coming his way.
"But I haven't even had a cycle yet -- you aren't supposed to be able to get pregnant before your cycle starts again."
"Well -- you are 3 weeks pregnant so I'm going to go with obviously that's not accurate either."
He patted my shoulder, gave me a new prescription for prenatal vitamins and went on about his life -- leaving me alone to get dressed in the maternity clothes I had been wearing too long already and would be wearing longer still.
Zac has taught me several extremely valuable lessons over the years. They started that day.
1. Don't believe everything you hear - and;
2. Don't believe everything you read would go right with it.
My pregnancy with Zac was very uneventful - after all, I knew what I was supposed to do. It wasn't like I had time to forget anything - it was all quite fresh. I went to the doctor on April 19, 1984 and all was well. While sitting in the recliner the next afternoon, watching Andy Griffith and holding Andi, I had a stomach pain that nearly threw me to the floor. In what can only be God's intervention, my mom arrived unexpectedly about a minute later.
I called the doctor and told them I was in labor. "No, you're not," I was told. "If it will make you feel better, you can come in and we will check you.
"I'M HAVING A BABY! I JUST HAD ONE - I KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE" I screamed in what can only be described as a decidedly unladylike manner. "TELL DR. S TO GET TO THE HOSPITAL."
I got to the hospital and soon had one nurse holding my legs together and another holding Zac's head inside of me while we waited for the doctor to rush across town in quitting time traffic. Zac was born about 2 hours
after that first pain. There was no stopping the labor and no explanation as to why it started. Zac was delivered 13 weeks early.
I went to visit my OB doctor six weeks after Andi's birth - just like a good patient does. After he finished his examination, he told me to make an appointment on my way out for next month. Being the good patient that I was, I had read up on this stuff and knew I only needed one postpartum appointment. So I casually mentioned that as I hopped off the table, glad that there would be no more of those exams for a long time to come.Well, yes, that's would be the case.........if you weren't pregnant."
It's a good thing I was already off the table, because I'm sure I would have fallen off had I not been.
"But I can't be pregnant! That's funny -- really -- that's a good one." I joked.
Turns out, my doctor is not a joker."Have you had sex since you gave birth?"
"Once." I said.
"Maybe you've heard this before but once is all it takes." he replied in his monotone voice."But I'm nursing -- you aren't supposed to be able to get pregnant while nursing."
"Hmmm" came the non-committal murmuring while he wrote in my chart and tsk-tsked me in his mind.
For Not Waiting.
At the same time, I'm sure he was imagining another round of OB fees coming his way.
"But I haven't even had a cycle yet -- you aren't supposed to be able to get pregnant before your cycle starts again."
"Well -- you are 3 weeks pregnant so I'm going to go with obviously that's not accurate either."
He patted my shoulder, gave me a new prescription for prenatal vitamins and went on about his life -- leaving me alone to get dressed in the maternity clothes I had been wearing too long already and would be wearing longer still.
Zac has taught me several extremely valuable lessons over the years. They started that day.
1. Don't believe everything you hear - and;
2. Don't believe everything you read would go right with it.
My pregnancy with Zac was very uneventful - after all, I knew what I was supposed to do. It wasn't like I had time to forget anything - it was all quite fresh. I went to the doctor on April 19, 1984 and all was well. While sitting in the recliner the next afternoon, watching Andy Griffith and holding Andi, I had a stomach pain that nearly threw me to the floor. In what can only be God's intervention, my mom arrived unexpectedly about a minute later.
I called the doctor and told them I was in labor. "No, you're not," I was told. "If it will make you feel better, you can come in and we will check you.
"I'M HAVING A BABY! I JUST HAD ONE - I KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE" I screamed in what can only be described as a decidedly unladylike manner. "TELL DR. S TO GET TO THE HOSPITAL."
I got to the hospital and soon had one nurse holding my legs together and another holding Zac's head inside of me while we waited for the doctor to rush across town in quitting time traffic. Zac was born about 2 hours
after that first pain. There was no stopping the labor and no explanation as to why it started. Zac was delivered 13 weeks early.
He was born 8 months and 10 days after Andrea. A nurse later checked and told me that I was 3 days off of the world's record for a woman giving birth to two living children. I was not interested in setting records. I would have rather been pregnant.
Zac was scrawny and he resembled ET. He weighed 2 pounds 3 ounces and was 16 inches long. He was covered in white down. His ears had no cartilage yet and they just folded down. He didn't have any eyelashes. His head was not much larger than the bulb syringe in his bed. As soon as he was delivered, he was immediately intubated and whisked off to the NICU. There were no APGAR scores to report in his baby book. They wouldn't have been good anyway.
At that point, I had yet another unladylike and most likely unChristian like moment when the recovery nurse told me I had to stay in recovery for an hour and THEN they would take me to the NICU. Without going into much detail, suffice to say, I wasn't sure my son would be alive in an hour and I "recovered" in the NICU while that poor nurse was left wondering what she had just witnessed.
Zac suffered much while in the NICU. I prayed constantly for him to be healthy. When he was 12 days old I was allowed to hold him for the first time. It was a moment that will live forever in my heart. They handed this tiny bundle to me, tubes and wires running everywhere and all my momma eyes could see was my precious baby finally got to be cuddled.
Zac was scrawny and he resembled ET. He weighed 2 pounds 3 ounces and was 16 inches long. He was covered in white down. His ears had no cartilage yet and they just folded down. He didn't have any eyelashes. His head was not much larger than the bulb syringe in his bed. As soon as he was delivered, he was immediately intubated and whisked off to the NICU. There were no APGAR scores to report in his baby book. They wouldn't have been good anyway.
At that point, I had yet another unladylike and most likely unChristian like moment when the recovery nurse told me I had to stay in recovery for an hour and THEN they would take me to the NICU. Without going into much detail, suffice to say, I wasn't sure my son would be alive in an hour and I "recovered" in the NICU while that poor nurse was left wondering what she had just witnessed.
Zac suffered much while in the NICU. I prayed constantly for him to be healthy. When he was 12 days old I was allowed to hold him for the first time. It was a moment that will live forever in my heart. They handed this tiny bundle to me, tubes and wires running everywhere and all my momma eyes could see was my precious baby finally got to be cuddled.
As the weeks passed, Zac got sicker and sicker yet it was hard to imagine that even being possible. He couldn't be weaned off of the ventilator or the oxygen.
He experienced four Grade IV brain hemorrhages. Although the least common, this grade of hemorrhage has the worst prognosis with a mortality rate of up to 70% of infants and adverse neurological development in over half of those who do survive. We were told that Zac's brain had damage in the parts that controlled his hearing, his sight, his walking, his mental capacity, just about everything. We were told Zac would definitely have Cerebral Palsy from these bleeds. Zac's prognosis was very grim.
It just didn't matter to me. None of it. I just kept praying for Zac to live. I didn't care what shape he was in. I selfishly wanted my child to live. He had blood transfusions constantly because what little blood he did have was being depleted from test after test. He kept getting sicker and soon I came to accept that Zac would not be going home as the healthy child I prayed for.
I changed my prayers. I prayed for God to take Zac home to Him. It's a hard thing for a mom to do - to pray that their child dies. You would have to understand the situation before you could ever begin to think about judging it. And even then -- don't.
It just didn't matter to me. None of it. I just kept praying for Zac to live. I didn't care what shape he was in. I selfishly wanted my child to live. He had blood transfusions constantly because what little blood he did have was being depleted from test after test. He kept getting sicker and soon I came to accept that Zac would not be going home as the healthy child I prayed for.
I changed my prayers. I prayed for God to take Zac home to Him. It's a hard thing for a mom to do - to pray that their child dies. You would have to understand the situation before you could ever begin to think about judging it. And even then -- don't.
Every day seemed like there was one more IV stuck in him, more needles, more tests, more things going wrong, more bad news coming from those tests. I knew Zac was suffering more and more every day. Struggling. Getting weaker. I just wanted it to end for him.
Then, Zac was diagnosed with necrotizing enterocolitis, where the lining of the intestinal wall dies and the tissue sloughs off. Every subsequent x-ray showed his intestines were shutting down a bit more and surgery would be needed in order to prolong his miserable existence.
Although I am not Catholic, my husband was, and Zac was given his Last Rites in order to make his dad feel better. I had no doubt Zac would be waiting for me in heaven.
He already needed surgery for several other minor things that were going to wait till he was stronger, but the NEC could not. Plans were made to transfer Zac to Riley's Hospital for Children in Indianapolis. I went home to pack my suitcase and somewhere along the way I changed my prayers yet again. This time -- I finally got it right.
"God - your will be done." I prayed.
That is the single most important lesson Zac has taught me. When I went back to the hospital, there were 2 nurses around Zac's bed, both crying. I almost hit the floor, sure he must have died, but they saw me and quickly rushed over to tell me some of the sweetest words I've ever heard....... "Zac pooped."
Which I immediately understood to mean his intestines had started working. The ambulance was sent away and the surgery no longer needed.
He already needed surgery for several other minor things that were going to wait till he was stronger, but the NEC could not. Plans were made to transfer Zac to Riley's Hospital for Children in Indianapolis. I went home to pack my suitcase and somewhere along the way I changed my prayers yet again. This time -- I finally got it right.
"God - your will be done." I prayed.
That is the single most important lesson Zac has taught me. When I went back to the hospital, there were 2 nurses around Zac's bed, both crying. I almost hit the floor, sure he must have died, but they saw me and quickly rushed over to tell me some of the sweetest words I've ever heard....... "Zac pooped."
Which I immediately understood to mean his intestines had started working. The ambulance was sent away and the surgery no longer needed.
From that day forward Zac continued to get well. And 56 days after he was born, Zac came home for the first time.
Zac's early childhood was not without complications. He was in and out of the hospital constantly for the first year. He developed bronchopulmonary dysplasia because he received high concentrations of oxygen for long periods of time and was on the ventilators for so long.
When Zac was about 8 months old, he was back in the hospital yet again for a CT scan of his head. I watched as several technicians went in and out of the room. They came out and asked me to wait while they got Zac's records. I waited and soon along came a cart with stacks of records that I knew had to belong to my miracle child. The doctor came out after awhile and sat down to talk.
"You know your son suffered several Grade IV bleeds after his birth." he said.
"Yes, I know."
"Well, our exam today show no sign there were ever any bleeds at all. His brain is absolutely perfect" the doctor told me.
"God healed him." I said it as a simple fact.
"I do believe you're right," the doctor agreed.
Zac and Andi grew up side by side - getting into everything imaginable and being as close as I had dreamed about.
Zac's early childhood was not without complications. He was in and out of the hospital constantly for the first year. He developed bronchopulmonary dysplasia because he received high concentrations of oxygen for long periods of time and was on the ventilators for so long.
When Zac was about 8 months old, he was back in the hospital yet again for a CT scan of his head. I watched as several technicians went in and out of the room. They came out and asked me to wait while they got Zac's records. I waited and soon along came a cart with stacks of records that I knew had to belong to my miracle child. The doctor came out after awhile and sat down to talk.
"You know your son suffered several Grade IV bleeds after his birth." he said.
"Yes, I know."
"Well, our exam today show no sign there were ever any bleeds at all. His brain is absolutely perfect" the doctor told me.
"God healed him." I said it as a simple fact.
"I do believe you're right," the doctor agreed.
Zac and Andi grew up side by side - getting into everything imaginable and being as close as I had dreamed about.
Still, Zac had problems. To look at him, he was a beautiful toddler. To hear him breathe - he was an 88 year old man with his last breath rattling in his lungs.
He had severe apnea - sometimes he would quit breathing as much as 70 times per night.
He was on an apnea monitor at home for almost 3 years. Zac also had nebulizer treatments around the clock for years to assist in his breathing.
When Zac was about 18 months old, he was scheduled to go to Riley's to have some tests run for all of his respiratory problems. The day before we were to be there, the pediatrician's office called to tell me that they were going to check Zac for AIDS. AIDS was very new in 1985 and I had to go to the library that afternoon and do some research to learn about it. What I found was that if indeed my son had AIDS, he was going to die.
Yet I was able to thank God for letting me have Zac to enjoy and to be able to accept what might happen. I knew if Zac was now going to die from having had a blood transfusion, it was just as certain he would have died already from not having one. We had already lived through several times of Zac being tested for Cystic Fibrosis and now we were going to wait for these results. Ten very long days later I got the wonderful news that Zac did not have AIDS.
Zac has been my most difficult child to raise - I'm not saying anything he doesn't know. 
He is very smart, kind, charming and handsome. He would literally give you the shirt off his back and his shoes too if you asked. He has great potential - but for the most part, chooses not to utilize it....yet. Zac is my first son. And I'm proud of him. I look forward to watching him as he finds his way in the world.
He is very smart, kind, charming and handsome. He would literally give you the shirt off his back and his shoes too if you asked. He has great potential - but for the most part, chooses not to utilize it....yet. Zac is my first son. And I'm proud of him. I look forward to watching him as he finds his way in the world. He now stands 6 feet 3 inches tall, but I will always remember that sweet feeling when they placed him in my arms for the first time. All tangled up in wires and tubes, I could only see the possibilities the future held for him. And I still do.
As Zac has grown, he has taught me other lessons but none as valuable as the one I learned so many years ago....
Thy will - not mine - be done not only in my life, Lord, but also in Zac's.Happy birthday Zac. I love you.
Edited to add in April 2013 -- Zac has turned out to be just fine -- just as I always knew he would. He holds a steady job while being an amazing dad to Benjamin every weekend. He makes me proud. And he has certainly lost the title of "most difficult to raise." Zac, compared to Ryan, was a piece of cake.
Edited to add in April 2013 -- Zac has turned out to be just fine -- just as I always knew he would. He holds a steady job while being an amazing dad to Benjamin every weekend. He makes me proud. And he has certainly lost the title of "most difficult to raise." Zac, compared to Ryan, was a piece of cake.
