The last week has been entirely draining physically, mentally and emotionally.Sitting down to write this was hard and brought back a flood of emotions. I don’t know where to begin, but we’ll start here…..some things don’t go as planned……
I had my last checkup last Friday at exactly 39 weeks pregnant. I was only dilated to a 2, and my cervix was thinner. It didn’t seem like things were going to happen too soon, at least not over the weekend, but I just kept getting the feeling on the 18th she would make her way.
After my appointment, I bought a cold pressed ginger, turmeric and cayenne juice at our juice bar. It wasn’t the best thing going down, but I had finished the 20 ounce juice. I was trying to induce labor. I did a long walk, bounced on my ball and then when Marc came home I made him give me a foot massage using clary sage oil.
By 1:27 a.m. Saturday (18th) morning, I felt my first contraction. Shortly after 1:30 a.m. I had to pee. I then noticed I was bleeding a little. I knew this was my mucus plug starting to come. I woke Marc and told him I thought I was in labor. We starting to time contractions and they were coming around every 10-15 minutes. They weren’t painful, just annoying.
The contractions stayed consistent the rest of the morning, making it hard to sleep. I called my mom around 2:30 a.m. and told her that I had been experiencing contractions and was also bleeding. She immediately came over to my house from my sisters.
I hung out at home, and yes did homework at 3 a.m. My husband and mom thought I was crazy.
My sister came to visit with her boys and my nephew wanted to sing to me. We had some spicy Thia food for lunch, because I wanted to be safe and keep labor going. This would come back to haunt me. My contractions begin to get a little stronger and stronger around the afternoon, and were coming every 7-8 minutes.
We decided to go to the hospital, because my family has a history of long labors with slow dilation, always needing medicine to help dilate. We arrived around 3 p.m. I was still at a 2 and baby was fine. The nurse sent me home, as my contractions slowed. Just my luck. I went to the park and walked around, stopping to breathe through contractions.
Then I ate some ice cream…yes that’s right…I felt like ice cream. We headed out to my sisters house, and after being there an hour, my contractions were stronger and stronger and were 5-7 minutes apart. (my nephew was rubbing my back as I was sitting backwards on the toilet trying to breathe through contractions, sweetest thing ever). We headed back to the hospital, arriving after 8 p.m. I was only dilated to a 3. I walked around the hospital for a good 40 minutes, because she was going to send me home again, and when I couldn’t handle the pain anymore I went back to the nurse and told her.
They sent me to the Jacuzzi to maybe open things up more. By the time we got out of the Jacuzzi it was after 10:30 p.m. and my contractions were every 3-4 minutes, and getting more and more painful (the Jacuzzi did feel amazing though). Again the nurse called the on call doctor (mine was out of town), and she said you can labor at home since I was still at a 3. I told her I wasn’t going home. I was in pain, and told Marc to get my mom. I was crying from the pain.
They finally admitted me before midnight on the 18th, after being in labor for almost 24 hours. I was tired, in so much pain, and wanting to be done.
The contractions didn’t seem to ever end, and the pain was so bad I threw up multiple times. My mom was amazing coaching me through them, but I was exhausted. I wasn’t dilating any more, and they stretched me to a 4. The nurse recommended I get an epidural to make it through labor. My mom talked to me and said she knew I didn’t want one, but said I would be too tired to push and then may have to have a c-section, which she knew I didn’t want.
At 3 a.m. I finally gave in, and went against the first part of my plan, no epidural. I thought it would help me sleep, but it never took the pain completely away. In fact, by 5 a.m., they had to come back and give me more because the contractions were so strong. I still hadn’t dilated more, so they stretched me to a 5 and broke my water before 6 a.m.
Then at 6 a.m. I dilated to a 6m by myself may I add. By 6:20 I was at a 9. The epidural again wasn’t working and the contractions coming so fast and so strong. The anesthesiologist had to come in 4 times to adjust my epidural. I threw up again (spicy Thai food haunting me).
The baby’s heartbeat begin to slow way down, and they put me on oxygen. I then spiked a fever of 101.8. This was around 7 a.m. I was so concerned for baby, so exhausted and in so much pain I didn’t think I was going to be able to push.
Pretty soon they were telling me I was a 10 and baby’s head was right there. I needed to push. They took me off of oxygen and said it would be 2 hours of pushing, and my mom told them she’s not going to push that long, you might want to get the doctor. They had me start pushing without the doctor there, and after a while, they told me to stop because they had to wait for the doctor.
The pain from the contractions was worse then the pushing. I only pushed for about 30 minutes. The doctor said she was here and I had a huge flood of excitement and was overwhelmed with happiness I can’t explain, but then I didn’t hear her scream or cry or anything. Marc cut the cord and the doctor said I could hold her, only to take her back before I could even touch her, as I asked “why isn’t she crying?”
She was handed off to nurses and my heart sunk. I knew something was wrong. My baby was purple. I could hear loud frantic voices. I kept yelling what’s wrong with my baby and no one was saying anything. I was hysterical and can’t even explain what I was feeling in that moment.
Soon the delivery room that was spacious upon our arrival, seemed so small, with nurses and doctors every where calling out orders. I couldn’t see what they were doing as I was being stitched up. There were so many people in my room. I kept asking what was wrong. Someone yelled “Code Blue,” more people flooded in, and I lost it.
They let me touch her before the swarm of people took my baby girl away. I told Marc to follow her.
I didn’t know what to think or do. I felt guilty, helpless, and empty. I remember touching my stomach and realizing it was so empty. Realizing it was empty, and so were my arms…that I might not be able to hold my baby girl if something horrible were to happen. The plan was for me to have skin-to-skin. To spend a couple of hours with just her, Marc and I before letting anyone come visit. To be a family for the first time.
My baby wasn’t breathing when she was born. She wasn’t breathing for the first 30 minutes after birth. The nurses and doctor worked on her for 30 minutes in my room trying to get her to breathe. She had low blood pressure, fluid in her lungs and high levels of infection. I blamed myself.
I was moved to my postpartum room and after the new nurse checked my vitals I was able to go up to the NICU to see my baby. I still didn’t know if she was okay or what was going on. I was left with my own thoughts since no one wanted to tell me the severity of it all. I remember saying over and over “I am sorry. God please help my baby girl. Please don’t take my baby girl.”
When I finally saw baby girl I lost it. There were a few nurses working on her and Marc was there. I can’t explain all the emotions I felt. Just seeing her though gave me so much relief. She wasn’t entirely stable and I couldn’t hold her, but at least she was alive.
I hated watching them pick and probe at her, watching her cry and not being able to comfort her. She hated her oxygen and kept pulling it out. She was already such a fighter.
It wasn’t the birth I had envisioned. I didn’t get to hold her right away and breast feed right away. Her pictures make me cry looking at them now, as she’s hooked up to all sorts of monitors. Not the birth story photos I wanted. But she is healthy and alive, and even though it wasn’t as I planned, I am so blessed and thankful I have my precious girl. Even though I had to leave her every night, which is the hardest thing I have ever had to do.
Since I was in labor for so long and bleeding, with an open cervix, I spiked the fever and her heart rate slowed. It was a long 32 hours of labor. This resulted in my infection and hers, according to the doctor.
Baby R was 6 pound 13 ounces and 21 inches long. She is perfect!!
I will have to write another post updating you on baby girl’s current status and our experience in the NICU if I feel up to it. Baby R left the NICU Saturday night and finally came home. It was an emotional day!! I spent the day worrying the doctors would change their minds. We have had 2 days together as an actual family. She looks 100 times better and is doing 100 times better. She is our world and we are so thankful God gave us this precious gift.
Until Next Time Be Whole and Be Fit.