Mason was 24 hours old by the time I got to hold him. This is our first picture together. After he was born they took him immediately to the NICU, I was on a different floor in recovery...I couldn't even hold my head up. When the nurses told me that Mason was having problems breathing and was in respiratory distress all I wanted to do was be with him....and I couldn't. It is a horrible feeling being separated and only getting bits and pieces of information like...he can't regulate his body temperature now, he is having to be fed through a tube, we need to put him on oxygen now...I could do nothing for him, I couldn't hold him or even soothe him with my voice. At 2AM I was able to "watch" mason on my closed circuit TV. Imagine my surprise when all I could see were dozens of medical tubes and wires all over my baby and I couldn't go to him. I strained my eyes from my bed to watch his tummy heave back and forth struggling to breathe. The nurses said that that was a "good sign".

I finally got to see Mason, the next day. Mike wheeled me to the NICU. And after they verified that we were indeed Mason's parents, Mike had to scrub my hands and arms like you would for surgery (I was too weak to do so on my own). We were in a big open room with glass layettes all around, the hustle and bustle was amazing...computers and medical equipment surrounded each baby. I didn't even know which baby was Mason. Then I spotted his sign "b.b. Bendabout".

I was so scared to hold him, not because he was a tiny baby like most new moms, but I was afraid I was going to knock out one of his tubes. I remember how "loud" it was in the NICU where he was...each baby had his own nurse to tend to him, Mason was hooked up to all sorts of monitors and computers. His nurse that day was Olivia. What a blessing she was. She took such good care of Mason and even reassured me that it was ok for me to kiss Mason. She said if I knocked off one of his leads she would re-attach it.