Where to begin?
I know I haven't kept up the blogging so much with this pregnancy. It was rough. My migraine headaches were so severe and so frequent, I left work on leave much sooner than expected. I was off by the end of March, and our baby girl wasn't due until May 28th.
Recalling the events leading to her birth are hard for me. It was scary. Traumatic. And everything Harlee's birth was not.
Our little Chloe was born Friday April 28th at 9:58am. For the two weeks up to her birth I had been constantly in and out of the hospital due to my severe and constant migraines. I have memories of morphine drips, being sent home on fiorecet and compazine, returning to get dilaudid. They said dilaudid was 8 times more powerful than morphine. It did bring down the pain to a manageable level, but it wiped me out. I couldn't function, and the days I was home were spent in bed or on the couch. The doctors were reluctant to give me the fiorecet and then the dilaudid, because of potential addiction. After begging them to give me something because I felt like literally putting a bullet in my head to stop the pain, they agreed. I understood the risks, and that once the baby was born she would have to be watched for signs of withdrawl. Anything to get me through that awful pain. I begged to be induced early, but they would only agree at that point to do it at 39 weeks. I thought "No way, I'll never make it."
As I neared 34 and 35 weeks I may as well have had a room with my name fixed on the door at the hospital. I was in for a few days or a week, then home for a day or two, then right back I'd go. I was home at 35w6d and began to go into labor on my own late at night. I wasn't sure what to do. I knew having a baby that early was not good, but I wanted that baby out, knowing my migraines would likely cease upon delivery! I wasn't sure if the doctors would stop the contractions to prevent me from having her, or just let it happen.
I waited until the contractions were 3-5 minutes apart and we decided to head in. The triage doctor checked me and said I was about 3cm dilated. Ok, less than what I wanted but still good. He called my doctor to decide what to do. My doctor said to stay at the hospital, walk for an hour, and see what happened. So we walked, and I had regular contractions during the 20 or so laps around the maternity floor. We returned to triage where a different doctor checked me again to see if I made any progress. Zero. Not only zero progress, but I was ZERO dilated. Umm-huh? Is that even possible? So I was a 3, and now a ZERO? Can you even go backwards? And while I was in triage my contractions began to fizzle. Great, just great.
My doctor decided to keep me anyways for a few hours and see what happened, possibly starting pitocin in the early morning hours. I was then set up in a labor and delivery room which seemed so very large. I don't even remember what the room looked like when I had Harlee, since it was about an hour and a half from the time we arrived at the hospital until she was born. Everything happened so fast with her. This was so very different. I did not feel like this baby was actually coming since contractions were only a few an hour at this point. They said I just HAD to have an IV with fluids, and continuous monitoring, and NO FOOD OR DRINK! Are you kidding? Everything was so fast with Harlee's birth I just kinda did it my way. I had the energy and guts to fight the "hospital policies." This birth I just didn't have it in me. I wanted her out ASAP, I was in pain, doped up on dilaudid, tired, exhausted, you name it.
My doctor was kept up to date about the lack of progress. Night turned to morning. I was now 36 weeks. I remember the nurses kept coming in and asking if I was watching the royal wedding that morning on TV. William and Kate, her fabulous dress, yeah I could care less. One of the three doctors in the practice I go to was planning on doing an amniocentesis at 37 weeks to check for lung maturity and they would consider delivering me then. He then decided since I was already in the hospital, he would see if he could get someone to do it now and see if her lungs were ready at 36 weeks.
I was sent by wheelchair to the other end of the maternity floor to have the amnio done by the high risk doctor at the hospital. Having an amnio was not something I had given much thought to. Hadn't really had time, or thought it would actually happen. Gulp. It is a HUGE LONG NEEDLE. Yeah I hate needles. How was I ever going to be able to do this? I held my husband's hand as the ultrasound tech tried to find the "spot" they would go for. She sounded confident that there were plenty of suitable pockets of fluid, and she and the doctor agreed on which one to take the fluid from. As the doctor explained they needed 10cc of fluid for the lab to do the lung maturity test, I closed my eyes and tried to think of anything except that God awful pain from that needle. It reminded me of the pain from the injections when going through infertility treatments with our first pregnancy. The needle was thin, but loooong. It was taking FOREVER. How long does it take to suck up some fluid? I thought they said just a minute or so. Then I could hear the doctor saying "I only have 4cc, we need 10." And he began to rotate the needle while still in me to fish for more. It hurt soooo bad. The tech was saying he hit a cramp. I swear it was 10-15 minutes before he finally took that thing out. He couldn't get anymore fluid.
The tech went about her job and started doing a full ultrasound to check on the baby, as was originally planned. The doctor used the phone in the room to call to the lab to see if they could still do the test with only 4cc of amniotic fluid. The tech moved the wand over my belly for a few minutes. "Doctor," she said. He was still on the phone. "DOCTOR!" she shouted to him. In that split second I knew something was wrong.
He slammed the phone down mid sentence and stepped over to the screen. "She's at 60!" the nurse nervously said. "Go now!" the doctor ordered.
Oh my God. Is this really happening? I knew it was her heartrate. It was plummeting. It was in the 150's in the labor and delivery room. I knew 60 was bad.
I'm not sure if they have some emergency button, or phone code they push or what, but immediately every available staff member nearby flew into the tiny room where we were and began to grab the bed I was on. I remember looking up and back for my husband, who was unhooking my IV pole from the curtain it had become tangled in as they tried to get me down the hall. They were RUNNING. I was surrounded by at least 4 other staff members and the high risk doctor and ultrasound tech. I remember going down a ramp and almost crashing into a wall, except some orderly grabbed the foot end of my bed and spun me around. I looked back for my husband who was trying to keep up with us. I didn't even get to say goodbye to him as I got to the double doors of an operating room.
Someone grabbed my glasses off my face. Pure panic set in. Oh my God I'm having a c-section. My worst nightmare. Is the baby gong to make it? Will I make it? My right arm dangled off the operating table. Someone grabbed it and tied it to the little board that was previously missing. There was no shouting, no yelling. It was quiet-well in my mind it was. Everything seemed in slow motion. Someone shoved a catheter in me. I yelled "Couldn't you have waited till I was out to do that?" No one responded. Two anesthesiologists hoovered over my face and firmly asked if there was anything they should know. I quickly repeated my allergy to amoxicillian and told them my current medications I was taking. There was no time for me to think, to gather my thoughts, or to breathe deep. They placed that awful gas mask over my face. I hate that smell. Odd how you remember it from surgeries many years ago. They told me to breathe deep. I tried not to. I began to pray. "Dear God let her be okay. Let me be okay. Please..." and that was it. I was out.
Hubby was held back, outside two sets of double doors. He stood there shaking, holding back his man-tears, wondering if he'd ever see his wife again or get to see his baby girl. Staff members surrounded him and gave him hugs, patting him on the back trying to calm him down.
Someone held open one set of double doors, held the baby up briefly, and she started to cry. As soon as she cried, my husband felt relief. We were later told we had the fastest c-section in the history of the hospital. Baby Chloe was out in under 4 minutes.
Hubby waited as Chloe was wheeled out the doors in her bassinet towards the NICU. He followed her and somehow convinced NICU staff to let him in with her, even though he had no access bracelet yet and had not been cleared to enter. He remained with her through her first hour or so, getting a few pictures with his camera on his forbidden cellphone. She was quickly moved to a covered incubator thingy and hooked up to an IV and various other wires and monitors.
About an hour and a half after my c-section, I awoke in a recovery room. I don't remember actually waking up, just asking if my baby made it. My belly was so sore, tight, and heavy. The recovery nurse quickly fetched my husband from the NICU. He showed me the pictures on his phone. She was SO tiny. 5lbs 4 oz and tons of wires. She looked lots like her sister Harlee did. I wanted to see her, hold her.
They told me I had to wait 8 hours to get up out of bed and make the trip to the NICU. 8 hours seemed like forever. I felt so empty, so far away from her. She should be in her mommy's arms, not a plastic box hearing unfamiliar voices. I tried to rationalize in my mind that she was in a good place and being taken care of. Unsure of why she went in distress in the first place, along with being watched for signs of withdrawl from all the meds I was on, I knew she had to be there. I just never imagined I'd have a baby in the NICU. I wanted to have her at home, and just show up at the hospital shortly after. Things just didn't turn out that way.
I pulled back the sheet over me, not sure what to expect. All I saw were ice packs and a large abdominal binder wrapped around my sore belly. That's okay. I wasn't ready to see the carnage of a ripped open stomach anyways. I was SO sleepy. I fought sleep to ask my husband all the details. Her first moments. Did they put that goop in her eyes? Yes. Dangit. That's what happens when you are unconscious and can't voice your wishes I guess. What happened? Why did her heartrate drop? Did they puncture her with that needle during the amnio? No, she seemed fine. The high risk doctor that performed the surgery did tell him my placenta was abnormally thin and had a partial abruption. But that was the only clue. I fell back asleep for a few more minutes.
I was so desperate to see my baby. I slept for a while, then stayed awake. We decided to call our family and let them know. They came up and went to the NICU one by one with my husband to see Chloe. It was hard. Everyone saw her before I did.
6PM finally rolled around. I had never been to a NICU, and wasn't entirely prepared. I knew that she had stuff all hooked up to her, but when it's YOUR baby, you just feel so helpless. Countless beeps and alarms. The lights were very dim. Not many parents, just lots of nurses. As my husband wheeled me over to her isolette thingy I started bawling. My poor pumpkin. Why are you here? I wanted to reach in and grab her and take off. But I knew I could hardly walk, let alone run. I could see her one hand was bruised where they must have tried putting an IV in, I could see the other hand had one all taped in. We waited there, just peering in. My husband said I could touch her and showed me how to open the circular doors on the sides to reach my hands in. I wanted to hold her. Could I just take her out? I waited and waited until finally a nurse came over. She said only for a few minutes and then she had to go back. So upsetting.
I was a long 4 days in the NICU. We were there every moment we could. I needed rest, but gave up as much as possible to be there for every feeding, and after she was moved into an open air bassinet I was able to hold her all I wanted. Because she was being watched for withdrawl, they had this checksheet to mark her symptoms on. If she had a score of 8 for the day, then she had to stay longer and get started on meds. Thankfully her score never got that high. The most frustrating thing was that every day, every new nurse we got, we would ask when we were going home. And no one could say, or even give an estimate. Monday morning the doctors making their rounds finally heard I was going home and said she gets to go with me. Thank you. That's what we wanted.
My OB saw me in the morning, just before we were released. He made it to the operating room right when they were stitching me up. He said that the placenta was thin, and they could see the partial abruption, but he could not explain why she went into distress. Could it have been from the stress of the amnio? Maybe. Was the placenta failing? Maybe. I am trying to come to terms with what happened. Maybe we were just thankfully in the right place at the right time. Maybe her heartrate dropping was destined to happen, and us going to the hospital Thursday night was the right decision. What if we had stayed home? What if my doctor had sent us home when we were only 3cm dilated? What if I hadn't had to take all the dangerous painkillers for my migraines?
Trying to live with the "is" in life and let go of "what ifs" sometimes is difficult.
But here she is. A little over a month old now. I try to soak up each day I get with her. Harlee is doing good as a big sister, smothering her with kisses every day. We decided our family will be complete. I cannot go through another rough pregnancy and delivery.
And so begins, "Life after Infertility." I can't wait to see our girls grow up together. We finally have the family we always dreamed of.
I know I haven't kept up the blogging so much with this pregnancy. It was rough. My migraine headaches were so severe and so frequent, I left work on leave much sooner than expected. I was off by the end of March, and our baby girl wasn't due until May 28th.
Recalling the events leading to her birth are hard for me. It was scary. Traumatic. And everything Harlee's birth was not.
Our little Chloe was born Friday April 28th at 9:58am. For the two weeks up to her birth I had been constantly in and out of the hospital due to my severe and constant migraines. I have memories of morphine drips, being sent home on fiorecet and compazine, returning to get dilaudid. They said dilaudid was 8 times more powerful than morphine. It did bring down the pain to a manageable level, but it wiped me out. I couldn't function, and the days I was home were spent in bed or on the couch. The doctors were reluctant to give me the fiorecet and then the dilaudid, because of potential addiction. After begging them to give me something because I felt like literally putting a bullet in my head to stop the pain, they agreed. I understood the risks, and that once the baby was born she would have to be watched for signs of withdrawl. Anything to get me through that awful pain. I begged to be induced early, but they would only agree at that point to do it at 39 weeks. I thought "No way, I'll never make it."
As I neared 34 and 35 weeks I may as well have had a room with my name fixed on the door at the hospital. I was in for a few days or a week, then home for a day or two, then right back I'd go. I was home at 35w6d and began to go into labor on my own late at night. I wasn't sure what to do. I knew having a baby that early was not good, but I wanted that baby out, knowing my migraines would likely cease upon delivery! I wasn't sure if the doctors would stop the contractions to prevent me from having her, or just let it happen.
I waited until the contractions were 3-5 minutes apart and we decided to head in. The triage doctor checked me and said I was about 3cm dilated. Ok, less than what I wanted but still good. He called my doctor to decide what to do. My doctor said to stay at the hospital, walk for an hour, and see what happened. So we walked, and I had regular contractions during the 20 or so laps around the maternity floor. We returned to triage where a different doctor checked me again to see if I made any progress. Zero. Not only zero progress, but I was ZERO dilated. Umm-huh? Is that even possible? So I was a 3, and now a ZERO? Can you even go backwards? And while I was in triage my contractions began to fizzle. Great, just great.
My doctor decided to keep me anyways for a few hours and see what happened, possibly starting pitocin in the early morning hours. I was then set up in a labor and delivery room which seemed so very large. I don't even remember what the room looked like when I had Harlee, since it was about an hour and a half from the time we arrived at the hospital until she was born. Everything happened so fast with her. This was so very different. I did not feel like this baby was actually coming since contractions were only a few an hour at this point. They said I just HAD to have an IV with fluids, and continuous monitoring, and NO FOOD OR DRINK! Are you kidding? Everything was so fast with Harlee's birth I just kinda did it my way. I had the energy and guts to fight the "hospital policies." This birth I just didn't have it in me. I wanted her out ASAP, I was in pain, doped up on dilaudid, tired, exhausted, you name it.
My doctor was kept up to date about the lack of progress. Night turned to morning. I was now 36 weeks. I remember the nurses kept coming in and asking if I was watching the royal wedding that morning on TV. William and Kate, her fabulous dress, yeah I could care less. One of the three doctors in the practice I go to was planning on doing an amniocentesis at 37 weeks to check for lung maturity and they would consider delivering me then. He then decided since I was already in the hospital, he would see if he could get someone to do it now and see if her lungs were ready at 36 weeks.
I was sent by wheelchair to the other end of the maternity floor to have the amnio done by the high risk doctor at the hospital. Having an amnio was not something I had given much thought to. Hadn't really had time, or thought it would actually happen. Gulp. It is a HUGE LONG NEEDLE. Yeah I hate needles. How was I ever going to be able to do this? I held my husband's hand as the ultrasound tech tried to find the "spot" they would go for. She sounded confident that there were plenty of suitable pockets of fluid, and she and the doctor agreed on which one to take the fluid from. As the doctor explained they needed 10cc of fluid for the lab to do the lung maturity test, I closed my eyes and tried to think of anything except that God awful pain from that needle. It reminded me of the pain from the injections when going through infertility treatments with our first pregnancy. The needle was thin, but loooong. It was taking FOREVER. How long does it take to suck up some fluid? I thought they said just a minute or so. Then I could hear the doctor saying "I only have 4cc, we need 10." And he began to rotate the needle while still in me to fish for more. It hurt soooo bad. The tech was saying he hit a cramp. I swear it was 10-15 minutes before he finally took that thing out. He couldn't get anymore fluid.
The tech went about her job and started doing a full ultrasound to check on the baby, as was originally planned. The doctor used the phone in the room to call to the lab to see if they could still do the test with only 4cc of amniotic fluid. The tech moved the wand over my belly for a few minutes. "Doctor," she said. He was still on the phone. "DOCTOR!" she shouted to him. In that split second I knew something was wrong.
He slammed the phone down mid sentence and stepped over to the screen. "She's at 60!" the nurse nervously said. "Go now!" the doctor ordered.
Oh my God. Is this really happening? I knew it was her heartrate. It was plummeting. It was in the 150's in the labor and delivery room. I knew 60 was bad.
I'm not sure if they have some emergency button, or phone code they push or what, but immediately every available staff member nearby flew into the tiny room where we were and began to grab the bed I was on. I remember looking up and back for my husband, who was unhooking my IV pole from the curtain it had become tangled in as they tried to get me down the hall. They were RUNNING. I was surrounded by at least 4 other staff members and the high risk doctor and ultrasound tech. I remember going down a ramp and almost crashing into a wall, except some orderly grabbed the foot end of my bed and spun me around. I looked back for my husband who was trying to keep up with us. I didn't even get to say goodbye to him as I got to the double doors of an operating room.
Someone grabbed my glasses off my face. Pure panic set in. Oh my God I'm having a c-section. My worst nightmare. Is the baby gong to make it? Will I make it? My right arm dangled off the operating table. Someone grabbed it and tied it to the little board that was previously missing. There was no shouting, no yelling. It was quiet-well in my mind it was. Everything seemed in slow motion. Someone shoved a catheter in me. I yelled "Couldn't you have waited till I was out to do that?" No one responded. Two anesthesiologists hoovered over my face and firmly asked if there was anything they should know. I quickly repeated my allergy to amoxicillian and told them my current medications I was taking. There was no time for me to think, to gather my thoughts, or to breathe deep. They placed that awful gas mask over my face. I hate that smell. Odd how you remember it from surgeries many years ago. They told me to breathe deep. I tried not to. I began to pray. "Dear God let her be okay. Let me be okay. Please..." and that was it. I was out.
Hubby was held back, outside two sets of double doors. He stood there shaking, holding back his man-tears, wondering if he'd ever see his wife again or get to see his baby girl. Staff members surrounded him and gave him hugs, patting him on the back trying to calm him down.
Someone held open one set of double doors, held the baby up briefly, and she started to cry. As soon as she cried, my husband felt relief. We were later told we had the fastest c-section in the history of the hospital. Baby Chloe was out in under 4 minutes.
Hubby waited as Chloe was wheeled out the doors in her bassinet towards the NICU. He followed her and somehow convinced NICU staff to let him in with her, even though he had no access bracelet yet and had not been cleared to enter. He remained with her through her first hour or so, getting a few pictures with his camera on his forbidden cellphone. She was quickly moved to a covered incubator thingy and hooked up to an IV and various other wires and monitors.
About an hour and a half after my c-section, I awoke in a recovery room. I don't remember actually waking up, just asking if my baby made it. My belly was so sore, tight, and heavy. The recovery nurse quickly fetched my husband from the NICU. He showed me the pictures on his phone. She was SO tiny. 5lbs 4 oz and tons of wires. She looked lots like her sister Harlee did. I wanted to see her, hold her.
They told me I had to wait 8 hours to get up out of bed and make the trip to the NICU. 8 hours seemed like forever. I felt so empty, so far away from her. She should be in her mommy's arms, not a plastic box hearing unfamiliar voices. I tried to rationalize in my mind that she was in a good place and being taken care of. Unsure of why she went in distress in the first place, along with being watched for signs of withdrawl from all the meds I was on, I knew she had to be there. I just never imagined I'd have a baby in the NICU. I wanted to have her at home, and just show up at the hospital shortly after. Things just didn't turn out that way.
I pulled back the sheet over me, not sure what to expect. All I saw were ice packs and a large abdominal binder wrapped around my sore belly. That's okay. I wasn't ready to see the carnage of a ripped open stomach anyways. I was SO sleepy. I fought sleep to ask my husband all the details. Her first moments. Did they put that goop in her eyes? Yes. Dangit. That's what happens when you are unconscious and can't voice your wishes I guess. What happened? Why did her heartrate drop? Did they puncture her with that needle during the amnio? No, she seemed fine. The high risk doctor that performed the surgery did tell him my placenta was abnormally thin and had a partial abruption. But that was the only clue. I fell back asleep for a few more minutes.
I was so desperate to see my baby. I slept for a while, then stayed awake. We decided to call our family and let them know. They came up and went to the NICU one by one with my husband to see Chloe. It was hard. Everyone saw her before I did.
6PM finally rolled around. I had never been to a NICU, and wasn't entirely prepared. I knew that she had stuff all hooked up to her, but when it's YOUR baby, you just feel so helpless. Countless beeps and alarms. The lights were very dim. Not many parents, just lots of nurses. As my husband wheeled me over to her isolette thingy I started bawling. My poor pumpkin. Why are you here? I wanted to reach in and grab her and take off. But I knew I could hardly walk, let alone run. I could see her one hand was bruised where they must have tried putting an IV in, I could see the other hand had one all taped in. We waited there, just peering in. My husband said I could touch her and showed me how to open the circular doors on the sides to reach my hands in. I wanted to hold her. Could I just take her out? I waited and waited until finally a nurse came over. She said only for a few minutes and then she had to go back. So upsetting.
I was a long 4 days in the NICU. We were there every moment we could. I needed rest, but gave up as much as possible to be there for every feeding, and after she was moved into an open air bassinet I was able to hold her all I wanted. Because she was being watched for withdrawl, they had this checksheet to mark her symptoms on. If she had a score of 8 for the day, then she had to stay longer and get started on meds. Thankfully her score never got that high. The most frustrating thing was that every day, every new nurse we got, we would ask when we were going home. And no one could say, or even give an estimate. Monday morning the doctors making their rounds finally heard I was going home and said she gets to go with me. Thank you. That's what we wanted.
My OB saw me in the morning, just before we were released. He made it to the operating room right when they were stitching me up. He said that the placenta was thin, and they could see the partial abruption, but he could not explain why she went into distress. Could it have been from the stress of the amnio? Maybe. Was the placenta failing? Maybe. I am trying to come to terms with what happened. Maybe we were just thankfully in the right place at the right time. Maybe her heartrate dropping was destined to happen, and us going to the hospital Thursday night was the right decision. What if we had stayed home? What if my doctor had sent us home when we were only 3cm dilated? What if I hadn't had to take all the dangerous painkillers for my migraines?
Trying to live with the "is" in life and let go of "what ifs" sometimes is difficult.
But here she is. A little over a month old now. I try to soak up each day I get with her. Harlee is doing good as a big sister, smothering her with kisses every day. We decided our family will be complete. I cannot go through another rough pregnancy and delivery.
And so begins, "Life after Infertility." I can't wait to see our girls grow up together. We finally have the family we always dreamed of.
8 comments:
HOLY.SHIT.
And that my friend, is why I am scared of amnios....
Wow, Christina!!!! That is so scary!!! I'm so glad that you are all okay and you have 2 beautiful girls now...so blessed!!! Congratulations again!!
It sounds so traumatic. I feel so bad for you, but I am happy she is home and you are doing well and your family is complete. Chloe is beautiful.
Oh, sweetie! I am so sorry you had to go through that. You're right though - maybe it was destined to happen and thank God you were where you were! wow.
She is adorable!
Wow! So sorry to hear about all your migraines and the delivery complications. Try to take comfort of being in the right place at the right time. I know I do with our life.
Hello! I know you don’t know me, but we’ve got something in common. I got your blog address off the Stirrup Queen’s blogroll and was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me help a couple who is trying to add a little one to their family. We’re holding a silent auction for them this weekend (Friday and Saturday) on goteamwitt.blogspot.com and need help getting the word out! We would love it if you would spread the word via social media or here on your blog. Additionally, we are always looking for more donations to auction off, so if you or someone you know might be interested in making a donation, all the information is under the donate tab. If you have any questions or would be willing to post a pre-written blog post about the auction and the sponsored couple, please contact Kristin at goteamwitt@gmail.com Thanks in advance for taking the time to consider this!
I am so grateful to hear that you and your little one are OK. What a scary, scary experience. She really is beautiful though!
I know you don’t know me, but we’ve got something in common. I got your blog address off the Stirrup Queen’s blogroll and was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me help a couple who is trying to add a little one to their family. We’re holding a silent auction for them this weekend (Friday and Saturday) on goteamwitt.blogspot.com and need help getting the word out! We would love it if you would spread the word via social media or here on your blog. Additionally, we are always looking for more donations to auction off, so if you or someone you know might be interested in making a donation, all the information is under the donate tab. If you have any questions or would be willing to post a pre-written blog post about the auction and the sponsored couple, please contact Kristin at goteamwitt@gmail.com Thanks in advance for taking the time to consider this!
Hey stranger! Congrats on the arrival of your precious little Chloe. I'm so glad that after all of that drama with your labor and her birth! I miss keeping up with you! *hugs*
P.S. We just found out that we will be having a baby GIRL in late November! I'm gonna need all of the mommy-of-little-girl advice you have to offer. :)
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