My husband and I have been together for well over 8 years...yes, we are high school sweethearts <3 So, we of course have discussed kids, you know...do you want them? Yes, okay, how many? Yada yada...we had that discussion prior to even getting married, to make sure we had the same goals and dreams in life. We both agreed, we would like at least 3 children and we both have a desire to adopt one day, if we are so lucky!
The next question we asked each other, when do you want children? At what point in life will you be ready to be a parent? We both agreed again, about 3-4 years after we tie the knot. It appears as if God had other plans and probably had a good little laugh while we were having this conversation. Actually, I am quite sure he did because we ended up pregnant 10 months after we got married, not even a full year! We joke often that we were the last of our friends to get married and the first to have a baby. But, you know what, it has all worked out beautifully and our family has been so blessed over the past year.
We found out we were pregnant on May 20th, 2012 and I told my husband when he got home from small group. No, I didn't plan some sweet way of telling him, I was in shock and probably in a bit of denial. THIS WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! But, it did and so we went with it. The next day, a blood test confirmed the pregnancy and we were almost 6 weeks pregnant. We had a little "sweet pea" growing. We decided to wait and tell our parents that weekend, once we had time to wrap our heads around what was about to happen. This was hard for me, I am known to spill secrets, I get way too excited. But I don't think I was excited, I was scared, anxious, and nervous. I really only wanted to tell my mom but I didn't. We decided we would tell our parents by giving them a baby picture frame with "under construction" written on the inside. Both sets of parents were extremely excited but at the same time we were all shocked. We had JUST gotten over the wedding high and were beginning to get into a routine and BAM...here comes sweet pea!
On July 8th, we heard the heart beat for the first time! And, that is when it all became real. We were excited and felt safe to tell people around us. We prayed hard for this sweet baby and the pregnancy was relatively easy until 28 weeks and then all hell broke loose. I developed gestational hypertension. I can't lie, I had a feeling I would develop this at some point in my pregnancy, just had no idea it would be so soon. My mom had pre-eclampsia when she carried me and I had mentally prepared myself in case this happened to me...or so I thought. November 1st, 2012, I went in for a routine appointment and my glucose tolerance test (which I passed with flying colors). But, that didn't matter because my blood pressure was 140/100...pretty high. I was not as prepared as I thought.
My doctor wasted no time, I was instructed to stop working and was placed on modified bed rest and given blood pressure medicine to take, twice a day. I had a non-stress test to make sure baby was doing okay and she was, she was a trooper always and liked to let her mommy know she was okay. I was now considered a high-risk patient and with this comes weekly appointments, lots of non-stress tests, lots of biophysical profiles, and lots of boredom. I was angry and frustrated. Why was this happening to me? I wanted to be like every other pregnant woman. I wanted my maternity photos, I wanted my baby showers, I wanted the baby classes, I wanted to fix the nursery, I wanted to wash the baby clothes, I wanted the big, big, belly...but nope. Once again, God had other plans for me and I needed to listen and do what He wanted me to do, which was rest.
On November 18th, I made my first hospital visit. I woke up with a kidney stone and thought I was going to die, no joke. This has to have been my 7th or 8th stone, but really? I needed to get one while I was 30 weeks pregnant with high blood pressure and on bed rest? Just add it to the list! This was our new saying because literally, something was added every day at this point. I finally passed the kidney stone and myself and baby were fine considering everything but life was about to get pretty scary.
My next appointment, the week after Thanksgiving, was not a fun one. My blood pressure was scary high, 150/110 from what I remember, and I was told that I was to make bi-weekly appointments now, my medicine was maxed out, and I was doing the lovely 24-hour urine analysis once a week. Keep in mind, I am only 32 weeks pregnant. I still need time, my sweet baby is not ready to enter this world, she needed time and her mommy needed more time. So, we prayed and we prayed hard.
At 33 weeks, I was admitted to the hospital. It was a Friday morning and the protein in my urine was well over the normal range and my blood pressure was still creeping up. I spent the entire weekend in the hospital. My blood pressure was taken every 15 minutes and the baby was monitored every second. They added a new medicine, so I was on two medicines for my blood pressure. One was maxed out and the other was close to being maxed out. We were scared, my health and the baby's health was at risk. That Saturday, we had a consult with the neonatologist and a NICU visit. It was inevitable, our baby would make her debut a lot sooner than any mother would wish. The doctor went over stats, I had already been given the steroid injections in my buttocks, so we prayed the baby's lungs were developing okay since it was likely she would be premature.
Luckily, we managed to escape delivery this visit and we were sent home to let our baby cook for as long as she could. But that wasn't long, however, every day counts. We heard somewhere along this journey that one day inside the womb is equivalent to two days in the NICU. At this point, I was hating being pregnant. I was scared. I was frustrated. I was lonely. I was not happy. And, it was hard because I had so many friends who were pregnant and they were loving every second and were nesting and having fun at their baby showers, etc. Why didn't I get to do that? WHY?!
On December 19th, I got the call. The call telling me I was being admitted to the hospital and I needed to head that way. My protein levels were well over 3000, I had developed severe pre-eclampsia. My blood pressure was 160/114. We were scared. We weren't ready, this was all happening way too fast. The unknown was so unsettling. Would she be a big baby? Would she need NICU time? Would I be okay? Do we have everything we need? These were all questions I had no answers to. Once I got to my room, they wasted no time hooking me up. I met with the high-risk specialist and he told me that I would not be going home without a baby, little did he know, but I did go home without a baby. More on that later.
My OB came to visit, and if I haven't mentioned it, I love my OB. She truly cared about me and was there every step of the way. I like to think we are friends :) She is sweet but honest and I knew once I saw her that we would be having this baby soon. Around 8 PM that night, they gave me cervidil to help me dilate and then the plan was to induce in the morning. I am not sure if I spelled that correctly, but I don't care, it doesn't deserve anything special. I swear the devil invented this drug. It hurt, I was in pain, and my baby was not tolerating it. Her heart rate was all over the place.The nurse called my doctor and she wasted no time coming in. Did I mention, she was not on call? She was even leaving for vacation the next morning, but she still came. She made me feel like everything was going to be okay, she reassured me and I trusted her. She was my ally, my friend.
However, I did not like what she was about to suggest. She pretty much told me that my baby would likely not make it if we continued with the induction process. There was no way the baby could handle pitocin and labor if her heart rate was up and down like it was then and there. We both agreed, a c section was needed. Just add it to the list!
I have never been one of those all natural, no meds, doctors are your enemy type of person. I trust my doctors, I listen to them. Judge me all you want but there is no right way to life and this is how I choose to live. Sure, if I had been able, I would have tried my hardest to deliver in the most healthiest of environments. I would have tried to deliver with no medicine but had the pain become untolerable, you best believe I would be shootin' myself up with some drugs. But, I didn't even get to make that decision.
At 11 PM, my room had become a mad house. There were probably 10 people in my room, all running around like they had lost it. I had never seen people hurry so frantically. Definitely did not help my anxiety, but, I trusted. I knew I was in good hands. At 12 AM on December 20th, we were rolling to the OR. I was nervous, I knew my family was nervous, something about the unknown. It was scary.
But this is where things started to calm down believe it or not. I got my spinal, no problem. I was numb from my chest down. It was the weirdest feeling ever and quite frankly, I was not a fan. But whatever needed to be done, I kept trusting. At 12:37 AM on December 20th, 2012 our sweet baby girl was born! This is probably the ONLY, I repeat ONLY, happy moment from my entire pregnancy. She was beautiful and she came out wailing. But it was the most precious song I had ever heard. The neonatologist was in the OR to assess her once she was born. She weighed 4 pounds 8.5 ounces and was 17 3/4 inches long. She was amazing and quite the trooper. Initially, we thought no NICU time but once they took her to the central nursery, they decided she needed to head to the NICU after all. Her blood sugar was high and her breathing fast. My husband left with her and off they went, I didn't get to see them until hours after delivery. I was sad and felt lonely.
I was wheeled into the recovery room, where I laid for 4 hours BY MYSELF. My husband had gone with the baby and the nurse would not let my mom come back to be with me, nor would she let me call my mom. I was literally all alone. It sucked. Had I been any normal case and my baby been fine, my husband and baby could have joined me in the recovering room. But, nope. This reminds me, I still need to file a complaint. I should have been allowed a visitor back there with me, I was the patient, I have rights.
I not only missed out on all the fun pregnancy moments, I also missed out on that initial bonding with my baby. I was so looking forward to doing skin to skin, trying to breastfeed, and just cuddling her after she was born. But, that wasn't how my story was supposed to happen. I didn't get to hold my baby until 12 hours after she had been born and that was for all of 5 minutes. Once I was able to leave the recovery room, they wheeled me into the NICU to see her for about a minute. I was upset, there is no worse feeling in this world than to see your baby hooked up to all of these machines and then you have to leave her. I had to trust my husband to take care of her, but that was supposed to be my job. I was the mom, I was the one who worked hard to carry her as long as I could, why couldn't I be the one to take care of her? WHY?!
My husband, bless his heart, he was amazing during all of this. He was walking on egg shells though because he wanted to enjoy the time with her but did not want to flaunt his time with her in my face. He got to do skin to skin with her before I did, he held her before I did, he did everything I was supposed to do. I was angry, not at him, but at myself. I had failed, or so I thought. This was all my fault, surely there was a way I could have avoided all of this, right? People kept telling me "no", it was not my fault, but, I couldn't help but to think it was.
For the first 24 hours, I was hooked up to magnesium. Just add it to the list! This meant, I couldn't do anything. I couldn't visit my baby unless a nurse escorted me down to the NICU. So, the first 24 hours, I was only able to see my baby for probably 20 minutes combined. As you can imagine, bonding cannot happen in 20 minutes. I woke up the next morning in tears. I cried and cried and cried. Who was with my baby? Was she okay? I called my husband and told him he needed to come sit with her ASAP, I needed to know she was okay. I called the nurse in the NICU and checked on her but that wasn't enough, I needed to hold her. I wanted to smell her, kiss her, never let her go. Finally, my nurse told me I could walk myself down to the NICU. I was out the door before she could finish, it was about time. I went down to the NICU and held my baby for as long as I could. We were only allowed to hold her during her feeding times, so I could hold her for about an hour every 3 hours. Once again, not conducive to bonding but every little bit helped. I was trying my hardest but I couldn't help but feel bitter. I didn't want to share her, I wanted her all to myself.
This was hard for family and friends, they didn't understand. They were happy and excited because a little baby was born. Everyone wanted to see her, to hold her, to get pictures with her. Secretly, I wanted everyone to disappear, to go home, to leave me alone. But, family and friends don't understand that. They knew my story, but, it didn't register with them that I was not getting that bonding time that I needed. I wasn't willing to share my time with them. I wasn't sorry. This was my baby, not theirs, my bond with her is far more important that anyone else's. We love our friends and family, we hope they know that. But, we had to do what was best for us. We needed time to be a family. She was tiny, a preemie, she didn't need to be passed around but rather she needed to be held for long durations by her mommy and daddy. She needed to smell us just as much as we needed to smell her, she needed to see us and to hear us, just as much as we needed to see her and hear her. We needed to learn to love each other, it took time for us and why couldn't people respect that time?
Sunday December 23rd, was probably one of the worst days of my life. Not trying to be dramatic, but, it was horrible. I was discharged, and had to leave my baby in an isolette in the NICU. I felt so helpless, I was so sad and hurt. Would the nurses love on her good? Would she know who I am? Will she love me? I was a mess. Why me, WHY?!
We still struggled with visitors, everyone wanted to see her. We felt obligated to allow family back there but we didn't want to. I love my family with all my heart, but, I didn't want visitors. I only got to see my baby 3-4 times a day, I didn't want to share any of that time. Boundaries were not respected but out of love, my husband and I tried to respect our families wishes. Secretly, we hoped, they would learn to respect ours. After 17 days in the NICU, sweet baby E came home on January 6th, 2013. She weighed right at 5 pounds when we brought her home. She is now 9 weeks old and I can honestly say, for the first time, I am in love with my sweet baby girl. It was not an instant bond, we had to work together to learn to love one another. I know she loves me and I know she knows who I am. All it takes it that sweet head to cuddle under my chin or those precious baby blues locking eyes with me. She loves me. There is no doubt. I love her. There is no doubt.
Needless to say, my journey was rough but you know what? It could have been worse and I am counting my blessings everyday. Yes, I was scared. Yes, I missed out on a lot and from what I understand, I still need to grieve my loss of experiences. It hurts to talk to my friends who are pregnant or have been pregnant and who tell me "it all worked out" or "its going to be okay." My favorite is, "I know how you feel." Um excuse me, no you don't. You may know how it feels to have a baby but do you really know what it feels like to have a baby and to be separated for almost 24 hours? Our experiences are not the same, so people please, stop pretending they are. I will love you more if you just listen and hear my story instead of talking to me like you experienced it as well. I am happy for all my pregnant mommies, I really am. But, right now, I may not celebrate with you, I may not want to rub your belly, and I may not want to hear you tell stories of how uncomfortable you are sleeping at night. Why? Because I am still grieving, I am still sad I did not get the big baby belly, I am still sad I never got to experience the uncomfortable sleeping at 39 weeks pregnant, I am still sad. Bottom line. No, I am not depressed and it is okay to be sad. It is still all fresh to me, but time will heal all wounds.
Will I ever get pregnant again? Will I have three children? I can't say for sure, these things are out of my control but I can certainly hope so. I pray my baby has siblings, I pray for more children. I also pray that I will get that complete pregnancy experience one day. I yearn for that. I want to know what it is like to hold your baby right after they deliver, I want that. Until then...I will be loving on my sweet baby girl every second of every day because she is a precious blessing.
Love to anyone who reads this!
-I
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