Day of Life: 1 - Delivery Day
I am one of those strange people who believes that everything is a God thing. While He makes himself known in more obvious ways sometimes, I believe that everything that happens in our lives is God's way of trying to get us where we need to go. If we actually get there is left up to us. When I get caught - I mean like really stuck - behind a slow-moving vehicle, I truly believe that that car is there to keep me from something up ahead that I don't need to be apart of. Maybe a cop, maybe a wreck. There's something ahead that I need to miss so that I can get where I really need to be. This does not mean I never get Road Rage and on occasion find ways around this annoying vehicle. It's just my way of handling the situation that God put in front of me.
Having said this, I believe that my Delivery Story started two nights ago, when I couldn't sleep. Usually zonked out by 9:00 or 9:30, it was well past midnight on Monday, February 21, before I was finally able to fall asleep. The next night, I had no trouble going to sleep, but I was wide awake at 2:30 and up until almost 5:00 before falling asleep again. Needless to say, I was exhausted this morning when I awoke to begin my day.
I thought that some exercise might help get me going, so I took Bull on a slow and steady walk around our neighborhood before getting ready for work. By the end of the walk, my back was hurting pretty badly. I didn't think too much about it. I've had aches and pains throughout this entire pregnancy, mostly due to the fact that it is not my first and that I've been tending to an almost-two-year old who doesn't sit still. I went to work, anticipating that by lunch I would probably call in a substitute to finish my day for me. I felt ok but knew that a few hours of rest might make a big difference today. Ironically, my principal's morning announcement had to do with getting a good night's sleep. She asked the school to promise to start going to bed earlier than we typically do, and I vowed to stick to that promise.
When I arrived at school, a situation that had arisen the week before was now coming to a head, and I really needed/wanted to stay and deal with it. I needed to meet with some people to try to resolve the issue, and this meant that I would need to stay all day. No big deal. The more I worked, the less I noticed my pain. I did, however, move my stool around quite a bit throughout the day so that I could sit as much as possible. Mrs. Hamilton, the aide in my classroom, was also so great about not letting me do too much. She knew how tired I was.
As the day wore on I started having some pains in my abdomen, but they went virtually unnoticed, probably due to the pain in my back. By lunch, my abdomen pains were getting more severe. Because they only happened once every hour or so, and they really weren't that terrible, I tried not to worry too much about them. Probably just due to stress. I went to my meetings that afternoon and was finally ready to go home by 4:30. At this point, I wasn't overly worried that something was really wrong, but I was starting to feel like things weren't completely right either. I should also mention here that since Monday morning, I had been having a discharge (sorry if that is too gross for some), and it had been getting steadily heavier throughout the the week. I called to check on it yesterday, but the nurse found no need to worry about it. She suggested that maybe it was just an infection that would probably clear up on its own.
So it's 4:30, and I'm finally leaving work when I realize that I left my phone at home this morning. I couldn't put off calling the doctor any longer, so I decided to go get it before going to pick up Canon. I explained to the nurse the pains that I was having and the discharge. Because it was so late in the afternoon, her advice was to wait until the morning when I could come in to see the on-call doctor. I could go to the ER tonight, but that would lead to a very long wait, and she agreed with yesterday's nurse that this was probably no worse than an infection. I was completely comfortable with that diagnosis and decided that I really just needed to lay low and rest for the remainder of the night.
I called Barry to see if he could go get Canon; I knew I couldn't handle him right now. As soon as he answered the phone and I began to explain my pains and the call to the nurse, I completely lost it. I cried uncontrollably, and I am convinced it is because I was so tired from having not had quality sleep the last two nights. He told me that he would call my doctor personally to see if he could see me right away. Of course, I didn't want to bother the doctor, but Barry insisted. I think he wanted someone to assure me that I was just being emotional and that nothing was really wrong. I think I needed that assurance, too. We decided that I would go ahead to the doctor's office and Barry would go pick up Canon.
I started the drive toward the hospital and made it to Dr. Nicholl's office about 4:45. They immediately called me back for an ultrasound. Again, I began crying and felt the need to apologize profusely for my lack of self-control. The ultrasound nurse found nothing to worry about. Tera was kicking, and her heartbeat sounded great. She was transverse (turned sideways) in my belly. She also showed me a picture of my cervix, seemingly in perfect tact. No need to fear premature labor. This has got to be an infection.
I was then taken to an exam room so that Dr. Nicholls could evaluate me. When he came in, he said the same thing. My bloodwork was good but showed that I probably had a UTI, so the plan was to prescribe some meds to clear it up. Just before he left, he decided to check me, I think more to give me peace of mind than anything else. During his exam, his facial expression went from friendly smile to furrowed eyebrows. I could tell that he was worried. It was a long examination. I just watched him, not wanting to ask any questions or distract. After at least a minute (this usually takes seconds), he looked at his nurse and said, "I'm going to need you to bring me a wheelchair."
"Oh, no" was all I could manage. He explained that I was dilated "a lot" and that, while they would try to hold it off as long as possible, I would probably have a baby in the next twelve hours. I cried again at that point, more out of uncertainty and confusion than fear. Is she even a real baby yet? I kept reminding myself, "I just saw her on the ultrasound. She's fine. Even if she comes tonight, she's fine. I just saw her."
"How dilated am I?" A lot. "How big is she?" She's pretty small. Nothing specific. Nothing to cause me any additional stress. So I accepted his answers and prepared to be wheeled away. I called Barry to give him the news, and he, seeming as calm as I somehow felt, made plans to meet me at the hospital as soon as he could find someone to keep Canon.
It really is strange how calm and at peace I was about everything. I did plenty of crying, but I never worried that this was something I could not handle. I honestly felt guilty when the nurses in Labor and Delivery tried to show me sympathy. I felt like I was giving them this impression that I wasn't ok when, in fact, I was perfectly ok. Tired and a little surprised, but I was not afraid.
Dr. Nicholls was another story. I could tell he was more than stressed about the situation at hand, but I couldn't tell why and I didn't want to ask. On our "drive" to L & D I tried to crack jokes with him, asking him if there was a major sporting event on tonight that could occupy Barry's time while I delivered (refer to Canon's delivery story in March of 2009 to learn more about why this might have been funny on any other day but today). None that he knew of were on tonight. (I was only joking!). I asked him other questions, too, that I don't remember right now. He answered them all but used very broad terms, not wanting to commit to anything that he wasn't sure of.
Thankfully, he warned me that things would be moving pretty quickly when I got to my Delivery Room. He was right. There were nurses in and out, helping me into my gown, asking questions, sticking IVs in my arm, just doing what they needed to do. I needed steroids to try to boost Tera's lung development, so I got my first and only shot in the hip. I also had a magnesium drip and something else that I can't remember. Barry showed up sooner than I expected, and I was so grateful to see that he looked as calm as I felt. When I was dressed, hooked up, and basically ready for whatever was to come, we finally had a chance to talk. He seemed to feel exactly like me, that whatever happened tonight, we could handle it. There was no worry as to whether Tera would make it. The possibility of long-term damage to her development was our worst-case scenario, but we knew we could handle that as well. "We're going to be a different family now," were his exact words. So wise and comforting for his hormonal and emotional wife.
Barry took care of everything. I was not emotionally stable enough to talk to anyone about what was going on (my crying, though controlled, was a little unpredictable), so he called everyone to give them the news. When he called my parents' house and got my dad, he said, "Doc, D's having her baby tonight." "All right! Congratulations!" was his response before Barry kindly reminded him that it was February, not May.
For the next hour or so, Barry was in and out, checking on me and making sure that everyone who needed to know, knew. The only person I talked to was my sister. She was so upset, she told me, because she knew what it was like to be having a baby so quickly. Both of her girls came a few weeks early and were born very quickly. They also both spent several days in the NICU, so she had a glimpse of what was to come for me. She made plans to come to Dothan that night to be with me after the baby came.
After getting a second opinion on exactly how dilated I was - 8 cm. he finally confessed - Dr. Nicholls met with the on-call Ob/Gyn and another doctor from their practice to decide what to do. Because Tera was transverse (sideways) and the doctors were worried about what would happen if my water broke (her umbilical cord could come out before she did, apparently something we didn't want to happen) the decision was made to have a C-Section. Somehow, I was relieved. I knew I didn't have the energy to try to push a baby out tonight. When? Within the hour. We didn't have time to let the steroids take effect, so Tera's lungs were on their own. That worried me a bit but again, no fear. She would be jetted to the NICU at UAB soon after she was born. I knew I was really entering new territory now. The NICU babies are the ones you hear about, not the ones you live through yourself. I would figure that out later.
I was wheeled back to the OR to be prepped for my procedure. Dr. Nicholls told me later that there was actually another woman ready to go back when he called to say we needed it sooner. I felt so bad for her. She had to be so frustrated, having to prolong her wait to see her new baby. I would find out what that felt like later. I'm sure she cursed me for days to come, and I probably would have done the same if I were her and knew nothing about the Pushy Lady who elbowed me out of the OR.
In the OR, I was cared for by what Barry called the A-Team - the best doctors, nurses, aenesthesiologist, pediatricians, and anyone else that has anything to do with delivering babies. All but Dr. Nicholls just happened to be on-call that night (one of those obvious God Things), and Dr. Nicholls was not going anywhere. He wanted to see this through as much as Barry and me.
I remember getting sick soon after my spinal block was in, and I remember the pulling and tugging on my stomach while they cut me open and rearranged my insides. I also remember when they told me that Barry wouldn't be coming to the OR. I told him before I was wheeled over that he did not have to come if he felt like he couldn't handle it. He does not respond to this type of situation very well physically, and I really felt ok by myself for just that little bit. I think letting him off the hood was the only thing I could do to try to take care of him. He told me later that he stayed out just to keep things as calm as possible. Nothing like an administrator breathing down your neck while you deliver his premature daughter.
The Aenesthesiologist stayed at my head and walked me through everything that was happening. When they got ready to pull Tera out, he told me that she probably wouldn't cry but not to worry. It is normal for babies like her not to cry. Right after he said that, I heard it and saw him smile. She was crying! Her lungs work. (I would learn later that Tera breathed on her own with blow-by oxygen for about an hour before having to be intubated with a ventilator while still at Flowers.)
7:04 p.m. 2 pounds, 5 ounces and 15 1/2 inches long at 26 weeks 3 days gestation. Many told me later that this was a really good size for her prenatal development. Tera looked just like a full term baby, only really tiny. And not nearly as tiny as I was expecting. They cleaned her up, and I was shocked that they brought her to me. I thought they would surely rush her straight to the jet. I even got to kiss her cheek, though I mostly just got the oversized hat she was sporting. They took her to the nursery then, and I got put back together. Again, I tried joking with Dr. Nicholls and this time got more of his typical jovial response. I asked him if, in closing me up, he could please stitch my abdomen muscles into a six-pack. He said he was sorry but he could only get five! Still waiting to see those results . . .
Eventually they wheeled me to the nursery where I could see Tera. Shock again! This must be a good sign if she is still here. I knew she was still going to UAB, but if they're letting me see her, things must be better than expected. They wheeled me right up to her bed and even let me reach in to touch her.
She held my finger for probably a minute before I was wheeled to my post-partum room. Sickness again, I think, then time started moving more slowly. Barry again, was in and out, going to the nursery to check on Tera and getting in touch with everyone who needed to know that she was here. Though I know he was still at peace about what we could manage as a family, I could tell his worries were mounting. There were so many possible outcomes here, and he was only thinking of the worst possible ones. He wouldn't tell me about them that night though. Like everyone else, I think, he felt sympathy for me, and I felt guilty that everyone was protecting me.
My sister arrived in time to see the baby before she was air-lifted to UAB at 11:30 p.m. She stayed with me that night, and Barry went back home. Some might think this is strange or unusual, but it really is what was best for us.
Two nights ago, I was laying in bed wondering why I couldn't go to sleep, and now here I am with a baby born three months earlier than expected, but who is showing all signs of developing normally. Had I been well rested, I never would have cried so hysterically to Barry, who never would have called Dr. Nicholls, who never would have examined me, and who never would have made the decision to have a C-section so quickly. I would have stayed at home, my water would have broken that night, and Tera's chance at survival would have dropped tremendously. Ironically, I am writing this in the wee hours of the morning because I can't sleep. I wonder what God is working on now!
End of Day 1.
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