Yup, I thought. He is definitely the best thing I have ever done.
In the next heartbeat, I corrected myself. I actually had very little to do with it.
*Editor's note: this post turned into a massively long beast. I thought about splitting it into a series, but I was afraid you wouldn't come back for the rest of the story. So, I hope you'll stick it out. At the end, maybe you'll consider it 10 minutes well spent?
Not all Miracles are Big and Grand
Sure, we are all familiar with some of the bigger miracles - feeding 5,000, walking on water, curing the blind. But if a smaller miracle happened along, would we recognize it? And it it happened today, instead of thousands of years ago, would we see it for what it was?
Does it take a lot of little miracles to add up to one big miracle? In my case, yes. That is what it took to get my attention.
Today, on Anderson's second birthday, I would like to take a look at all the miracles that have led to his existence. I'm not saying that if these things hadn't happened he wouldn't be here today. In some cases, that is true. But at other times, God knew my weaknesses and helped me out in ways I couldn't appreciate (or even recognize) at the time.
1. We Had Health Insurance
Health care in El Salvador operates at three levels: public, insurance, and private.
Public health care is free - as in 100%, don't spend a dime, free. As such, you can image the care that is often provided.
Health insurance is offered to anyone who works for a company that pays taxes. The employer pays 60% and the employee pays the rest. This health care is slightly better than public.
Private care is, obviously, the best. It is also crazy expensive.
When I became pregnant, we decided to split our health care options. For monthly check ups, I would visit a private doctor. I didn't have to deal with the inefficiency of the insurance system (which usually involved 6+ hour waits) on a regular basis.
However, there was no way we would be able to afford private care once it came time for Anderson's birth. We would need insurance.
Each month, employers must pay for their employee's health insurance. When they do so, we are issued a card that is good for the 30 days the employer paid for. If the employer doesn't pay, we don't have health insurance that month.
Hugo was working for a company that was quickly going down the drain. They issued pay checks late. They went for months without paying insurance. They were selling off production equipment to pay vendors. It was bad. We were living in a constant state of unknown. Would he have a job next week? Would he get his next paycheck? Would we have insurance when it came time to have the baby?
If we didn't have insurance, Anderson would have been born at the public hospital. As in, me (with virtually no Spanish skills) in a room with hundreds of other women in various stages of labor without a single supportive husband allowed to participate. Basically, a real bad deal.
My due date was May 21. On May 5 (two weeks late), Hugo's boss issued the month's insurances cards. We breathed a sigh of relief. As long as the baby came and we was discharged before the end of the month, we would be safe. There was no doubt in my mind that if I was still in the hospital at midnight on May 31, they would pack me (and baby) up and ship us to the public hospital.
Mind you, May was the last time the boss every issued us a health insurance card.
2. We Had the Necessary Paperwork
The officials of El Salvador like paperwork. Whether we are dealing with postal workers or immigration officials, there is always a million different forms we need to obtain/submit/sign/file. Health insurance was no exception.
Possessing a health insurance card was only half the battle. I also had to have a form called "12 Weeks." The 12 Weeks form verified that we had paid insurance for (you guessed it) the last 12 weeks. Without that form, I wouldn't be admitted to the insurance hospital.
A month before my delivery date, Hugo went to the insurance office to obtain my 12 Weeks. Guess what. Hugo's boss hadn't, in fact, paid insurance for all of the last three months.
The man at the desk simply shrugged his shoulders. Sorry!
Hugo came home to give me the bad news. For days, we were in a state of shock and disappointment. What were we going to do?!
Hugo was lamenting our situation to someone at church on the following Sunday. Carlos suggested we try again. "Who knows? You might get a different clerk who will let it slide."
So, Hugo tried again. He visited the office and was relieved to see someone different standing at the desk. He submitted my information and waited with bated breath.
The clerk entered my data into the system. He hemmed and hawed for awhile. Knowing his internal struggle, Hugo remained silent. Finally, the man said, "Eh. What the heck." He hit print and my form came zipping out of the printer.
3. It Was Pain Free
For you fellow moms out there, you might hate me after reading this next paragraph.
Other than ridiculous (like vomit seven times in one hour) morning sickness for about four weeks, I didn't have a single negative side effect of pregnancy. No back aches. No swollen feet. No American food cravings that couldn't be met here. Not even any stretch marks. Nothing. In fact, on the morning of my last doctor's appointment, the other moms in the waiting room were marveling at how normal I looked and acted. I consider that to be pretty amazing!
Now, the next paragraph might make you think I missed out big time, but I really think it's ok.
I also never experienced a single painful contraction. I had a c-section before they kicked in. I was also put under for the surgery. I didn't feel a thing. And unlike about half of the other women on my floor recovering, I was released after 72 hours. Many other new moms had their stay extended because of one side effect or another. I never had any pain after the surgery. I didn't have any complications.
Yes, I was able to have Anderson at the insurance hospital. And yes, it was a million times better than the public one. However, it was a far cry from traditional American standards for childbirth practices. Looking back, I think the above mentioned scenario is one of the few options that was available to me that wouldn't scar me for life (psychologically).
4. Hugo Got a New Job
Job hunting is always filled with stresses, setbacks and frustrations - no matter where you live. El Salvador is no exception. Nepotism rules. If you don't know someone on the inside to recommend you, you'll never get in.
This was the reality we were facing. Hugo's current employer was bound to close the company doors any day now. With less than two weeks until Anderson's arrival, it wasn't a good time for him to be unemployed.
One Sunday night, we were lying in bed, discussing our options. Hugo's phone rang. An old friend of Hugo's wanted to say hi. During the conversation, he mentioned his boss was looking to hire someone. Did Hugo know of anyone who might be interested?
YES!
Monday morning, Hugo went to submit his resume. Monday afternoon, he submitted his notice to his current boss. Tuesday morning, Hugo started his new job. Friday afternoon, Anderson was born.
5. Anderson Survived
At our last ultrasound, the doctor told us the umbilical cord was wrapped around Anderson's neck. There was a very real possibility I would need a c-section.
My last doctor's appointment was scheduled for Friday morning - just three days after Hugo started his new job. He really couldn't ask for time off already. Would I mind going to the appointment with his mom?
We arrived at the (insurance) doctor's office at 6:30am. At 11:30am, we were shown into her office.
She asked if I was experiencing anything different. I mentioned Anderson's movements had changed. He used to be a mover and shaker, kicking me all over the place. In the last few days, his movements had been confined to just one portion of my belly.
The doctor decided to send me to the maternity hospital (yes, we have a hospital just for giving birth). She wanted the specialists there to take a look.
We jumped in a taxi and drove across town. After another lengthy weight, I was hooked up to some sort of machine (I don't know the medical terminology).
"Hmmm...yes...baby isn't moving very much. Go eat lunch. Then, come back. Babies usually move around more after mom eats. We'll check things again."
Considering it had been several hours since the last time I ate (a bag of chips) and I was pregnant, I went all out: double cheeseburger, large fries, two chocolate chip cookies. Good stuff!
We returned to the hospital and saw a different doctor. She glanced at my chart and test results, handed my paperwork back to me and said, "Go on home. If contractions haven't started by May 29, come back. We'll induce you. If the baby stops moving or moves less, come back."
Now, let me tell you. All day long, I had basically been invisible. My mother-in-law had done most of the communicating. She talked to the doctors. After the meeting, I'd call Hugo. She'd tell him everything. He'd translate for me. I had basically stopped trying to even listen.
For some reason, that last sentence manage to catch my attention. I don't know if my mother-in-law was focusing on the first part of the message and the last hadn't sunk in yet, but she started reaching for my paperwork.
I spoke up. "The baby isn't moving much now. That's why we were sent here in the first place."
I can't describe the look on the doctor's face. I don't know if she was surprised to find me standing there (since I was invisible), shocked I understood, or horrified that she had almost sent me home.
She pulled me back into the office and hooked me up to a heart rate monitor. I was, in fact, having contractions. And with each contraction, Anderson's heart rate dropped from a normal 150 to 90 (or some such numbers...forgive me if some of the details have escaped me in the last two years!).
The doctor threw me a gown and hailed a gurney. "You are going across the hall and having a c-section. Now."
6. I Survived
I went into near panic mode. Hugo wasn't there. He was on the other side of the city. It would take him an hour to get there. By then, we would be done.
The nurse who was pushing me noticed my obvious distress. She asked what the problem was. I wailed, "My husband isn't here!"
She stopped the gurney and came to stand beside me. "Your husband doesn't need to be here. All we need to bring this baby safely into the world is you. Getting this baby out right now needs to be your top concern. Let's get him here safe and then we'll worry about getting your husband involved."
She was right, of course. But I continued to argue. "My Spanish is terrible! I need him to translate. What if I don't understand something."
Starting to push the gurney again she said, in perfect English, "I'll stay with you through the entire thing."
And she did. For three days.
The nurse pushed me into the operating room. People were rushing all around me. Someone came over and asked when I ate last. I said, about two hours ago. Panic, all around me. Why?
Courtesy of about.com: "If you have food or fluid in your stomach during your surgery, you could vomit while under anesthesia. The combination of anesthesia and intubation makes it possible for you to inhale the vomit into your lungs. This can cause serious complications such as pneumonia. It is best to start fasting 8-12 hours before your surgery."
Well, two hours later I woke up vomit and pneumonia free. The nurse placed my beautiful, blue-eyed baby in my arms.
7. Anderson Was Admitted to the Best Hospital
About two weeks after we brought Anderson home, he started projectile vomiting. After brushing off the symptoms as normal baby behavior for a while, we finally realized something wasn't right. Mom was here visiting and she went with me to the doctor. The doctor took one look at Anderson, said he was dehydrated, and needed to go to the hospital.
She said, "You have insurance, right."
"Ummm...no. Hugo changed jobs. He was supposed to get insurance from his last employer for three months to compensate for the probationary period with his new employer. But, the old boss didn't pay (what a surprise). We don't have insurance right now."
I can only imagine those words coming out of her mouth were curse words of some sort. She went back to her desk and started scribbling furiously on a piece of paper.
"Take this to the children's hospital. Go now."
See, normally, we would have had to go to the public hospital. It probably would have been days before Anderson saw a doctor. Instead, his regular doctor wrote him a recommendation and sent him to the best hospital in the country. When we arrived at the children's hospital, the nurses were amazed we were there. Usually, a patient has to go to a regular hospital and then be transferred to Bloom. How on earth did we bypass that step?!
8. We Weren't Stranded on the Side of the Road
My taxi driver (a friend from church) set off across town. He was making phone calls all the while (something I was not happy about). About halfway there, we were pulled over by police officers who were doing routine stops.
Having no idea what was happening, they took Carlos to the back of the car and came to ask me some questions. In my hysterical state of worry for my baby, I had no idea what the officer was saying. Carlos was yelling something. The officer was telling him to be quiet. I pulled my phone out, dialed Hugo's number, and handed it to the officer.
The officer talked to Hugo on the phone for awhile. Finally, the released Carlos. He got in the car and drove away.
Much later, I found out what happened. Carlos doesn't have the proper taxi driver license plates. Without those, you can't operate a taxi. If you are caught doing so, the police will impound your car (and heartlessly leave you stranded on the side of the road).
Why did they have (very rare) compassion on us and let us go?
9. Anderson Got to Stay
We arrived at the hospital. A woman in a lab coat met us (and Hugo) at the door. She ushered us past the waiting room, past the registration desk, and led us to a spot in the emergency room. All those calls Carlos was making? He was calling his ex-wife who worked at the hospital. He told her we were coming. Could she help us make the process faster?
A doctor came and checked Anderson out. He said he would have to be admitted. A nurse piped up. "We don't have any beds available. He'll have to go to the public hospital until one opens up." That doctor didn't get his next sentence out.
Another doctor came up. "I'm discharging so and so. Go ahead and send him home tonight."
The nurse was flabbergasted, "But we don't release patients at night!"
"I want him to go home now."
Done. Anderson had a bed.
10. Everything Else Fell Into Place
For most of Anderson's stay, Hugo was going back and forth from work to the hospital. Since I was usually the one there for most of the time, I was again worried about my Spanish. Anderson's doctor? From San Francisco. Spoke perfect English. His surgeon? From Minnesota. Spoke perfect English.
Hugo was worried about taking time off to be with Anderson. It is a practice that just isn't done here. His supervisor warned him one day. She took a day off and the boss docked her paycheck $50 (she earned $7 a day). Hugo missed three days of work. His paycheck? Not affected at all. His boss told him she wanted Hugo to worry about getting Anderson healthy, not about how he would provide for him once he was back home.
Anderson was in the hospital for eight days. He had countless tests - x-rays, ultrasounds, blood work, etc. Ultimately, he had surgery and four followup visits with the surgeon. How much did we pay for all that? $0.
I could go on and on. I could tell you about the fact that Anderson is celebrating his second birthday and we are yet to buy him a single piece of clothing. His entire wardrobe, for the past two years, has been comprised of gifts. His stroller, two car seats, and vast majority of toys have been gifted as well. Our friends and family know we are living on a very limited income and have stepped up BIG time.
I could tell you about the fact that I was unable to find an "American" crib. The side rails of El Salvador cribs are about a foot (or more) shorter than they are supposed to be. Never once did Anderson try to climb out or put himself in danger.
Seriously. I could go on and on. But I think you get the idea. And this novel of a blog post must end somewhere.
What was the point of all that? A combination of things. To personally reflect on my wonderful baby boy's life. To remind myself how much we have to be thankful for. And most importantly, to thank God for all the many ways He has provided for us and kept us under His wing - even if we didn't appreciate His acts like we should.
And to invite you to share in all that with us.
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