On April 6th, at 9:54 a.m., we met our son, Graham McArthur Thomson. He was born about 7 weeks premature, at 4 pounds 6 ounces, but he’s a trooper. And boy, can he tug the heartstrings.
My birth story looks like a reading comprehension test in a med school textbook: Chorioamnionitis. Bacteremia. Adrenal shock. Some of it is actually starting to be funny: Our doula leaving halfway through labor. The number of nurses who can’t use a blood pressure cuff properly. Chasing down doctors at midnight.
But now, thank goodness, all that is behind us. I’m home, and recovering well, finally getting used to being upright after 12 days in bed.
Graham’s got some growing to do, but the kid can eat. He’ll be home before we know it!
Thanks so much for all your words of support and encouragement.