Over the past few weeks, I have been slowly unfolding my story of infant loss. You can start at the beginning of my story with Finding Out There Is Something Wrong With My Baby. My story doesn’t exactly have an ending because getting over a loss is not something that ever fully happens. However, there is a peace that comes and makes things easier and easier over time.
The last piece of my story ended with my leaving the hospital after a week’s stay, on bedrest. After lots of monitoring, Turbutaline, Steroids and meds to calm me down, the doctors felt it was safe to send me home. I was given instruction and appointments to travel (one hour) to the hospital, twice a week, for non-stress tests. I looked forward to each and every non-stress test because it meant that I wasn’t sitting at home worrying whether or not my baby was still alive.
I believe I was on my third week of non-stress tests, which put me at 30 weeks exactly. My parents drove me down to Sacramento, and dropped me off. I believe they decided to take my 3 boys to Trader Joe’s, and do a little shopping while they waited for me. My hubby had to stay back in town and work. After being monitored, the nurses weren’t thrilled with the reports they were getting on my baby’s heart rate, so they switched me to a different bed where I could lay flat. They gave me a little water and just watched. The nurses were still not satisfied with what they were seeing, but were careful not to alarm me. I was starting to get a little nervous because after all, it was looking like I just may be delivering my baby that day. Would she be dead? Would she could be alive? Would they get her out in time? Would she have all of the problems the doctors thought she would have? These are just some of the questions that ran through my head.
Because my baby still had a heartbeat, things weren’t super urgent quite yet. They slowly walked me over to the labor and delivery wing, but the high risk side, and had me gown up. Nurses stuck more monitors on me, and one by one, nurses, doctors, anesthesiologists, phlebotomists, receptionists and the like, came in to my little room to take my blood, have me sign paperwork, talk to me about allergies and meds, etc. At first they told me I could wait to call my husband because it wasn’t looking like they were going to be really fast about all of this. The more and more people that fled into my room, the more anxious I became, because it was seeming more serious. I had a FABULOUS nurse, who I think was a God Sent to me, and especially my mom. Of all people, she happened to be an ex-wife of a deceased uncle of mine. She was the sweetest lady, and we couldn’t have been more comforted than to have known that this nurse would especially be watching over us.
As soon as I was walked over to labor and delivery, I called my parents and told them to turn around and come back. They had all of my kids with them, so they called my sister who lived about 25 minutes away, to come and get my boys. Everyone worked so fast, and I truly appreciate my sister dropping everything she had going on, to come and get my boys so my parents could be with me.
I let my nurse know that it would take at least 45 minutes for hubby to get to me, so I wanted to know ASAP when I should call him. There came a turning point where my nurse got a little nervous and said to me, “Now. You may want to call your husband now.” I called him and told him to hurry his little fanny to Sacramento, because I was being prepped for surgery. I previously had one c-section already, so that was already kind of the plan. This however, was looking to be an emergency c-section. Anyone who has experienced one these, knows how extremely frightening it can be. Not only for your own life, but for that of your baby!
Nurses and doctors kept coming into my room and I could tell they were trying to be really patient, and wait for my husband to arrive. About 15 minutes passed when my nurse came into my room and said, “I’m really sorry, but we’re going to have to take you back now.” She talked to my mom and my dad, and let them know that they could go into surgery with me, and she even encouraged it. I recall my mom panicking a little because she had never been into an OR with someone, and especially her baby. My parents scrubbed up and my nurse gave them some instructions. Mind you, only about 30 minutes had passed since I arrived at the hospital, but it was all a whirlwind.
I was wheeled into the operating room, with my mom on one side of my head, and my dad on the other. We anxiously waited while the doctors worked their magic to try and deliver a healthy baby girl. For the first time ever, the anesthesia that I received, combined with my nerves, made me extremely shaky. I just shook and shook throughout the whole delivery. I remember my mom and dad waiting as calmly as they could, while stroking my hair. We just waited…
You can read my next post: The Birth and Death of My Baby Girl (Photos).