And Then There Were 10

On April 6th,  Kelly hosted a "sprinkle" for our soon-to-arrive baby girl. We just didn't know how soon. I was feeling large and tired and the prodromal labor I always have was considerably more painful than I remembered. My swelling was severe, with pitting edema in both legs. I felt done...but still had 3 weeks to go (or so I thought)! 

That week we spent cleaning, schooling, and nesting. On Thursday the 11th, Matt left for work in Warren (an hour away from home) and I prepared for my weekly OB appointment. 

The kids and I prayed our rosary, I handed out some vague directions for how schooling should go while I was gone, and I remember saying something over my shoulder on my way out the door about being back in about 1.5 hours. 

My blood pressure had been slowly rising for the past few weeks. I had been monitoring it at home, fully knowing what the end of pregnancy would bring: bedrest. For the past few pregnancies, we had watched my body respond to the last trimester with rapid decline. No matter what I did, I just couldn't seem to get my heart to behave. This time around was no different. 

I got to the office at 9:15a, and tried to do meditative breathing. The nurse came in, weighed me and *then* took my blood pressure. Her eyebrows rose up as she took the stethoscope out of her ears. 

"Is your blood pressure usually high?" she asked me, quietly.

"Only when you take my weight right beforehand!" I responded.

She didn't laugh.

She pumped the cuff back up and checked me again.

She sighed and told me she'd be right back.

The doctor came in a couple minutes later and asked me to lie down on my side, take deep breaths and relax. 

hahahahahahahahahahahahaha

I knew this drill.

They'd be back in a few minutes to check me again.

I followed directions, but the recheck was no better.

160/92

Dr. Tremp came back in and carefully explained that she could not send me home. She asked about where Matt was and if I had care for the other children. She wanted me to go directly to the hospital "just to be monitored for a bit". 

In my past pregnancies, this meant they would hook me up to monitors, check my blood pressure a few times...and then send me home on bedrest until babe was fully ready.

I called Matt at work from the hospital parking lot and told him I was fine, just weepy. I knew they would send me home. I just wanted him to call the house and check on the kids. He said he'd go home to be with them and that brought me a lot of peace.

My parents knew I had an appointment that morning and had been texting with me to ask for info. They had planned on coming to help with the sensational seven while I was delivering and in the hospital. They called while I was in triage being monitored. They wanted to let me know they were just passing through Buffalo on their way to Ohio, and did I need any help?

Nah, I was fine. I was just being monitored and then they'd send me home like they always do.

No big deal.

I hung up, and looked over at the monitor. Baby's heartrate was coming along nicely. My contractions were registering on the machine, but they weren't strong enough to be doing anything.

A tech came in to draw some labs.

I made some jokes with my nurse.

I felt the cuff inflate on my arm again. I closed my eyes and pictured Jesus, reaching out his hand to Peter on the water. I breathed slowly and deeply. I was calm. I would be going home soon.

An alarm started going off. 

I opened my eyes.

180/96

What?!

Impossible.

The nurse took down the reading and turned the lights down in my room. 

She whispered something about staying calm as she walked out to call my doc with the update.

As she closed the curtain behind her, I heard her whisper something to another nurse about needing IV access.

I knew I'd be staying.

Over the next hour, the monitor continued to chirp and yell with every blood pressure reading.

Dr. Tremp said I could be induced that day or the next morning, but I wouldn't be leaving the hospital. 

I was not prepared for this. I was scared. I wasn't packed. I had nothing with me...including Matt!

I made some phone calls, texted some friends for PRAYERS, and watched the nursing staff do their thing as we all prepared for baby girl to come into the world.

I was GBS positive (again) and needed 4 hours for the antibiotics to run in. After that, they'd break my water and since I was already contracting without Pitocin, they'd expect a baby by 9pm. 

I laughed. This was not going the way I wanted, but at least I could walk around with the dumpy IV pole and pretend I was in labor.

As the hours went by, I was getting more scared with each blood pressure check. The last one I remember before everything changed was 192/112.

Matt finally arrived...and right behind him were more people.

The A Team from ICU.

The nurse anesthetist. 

The doctor on call.

My room was full.

They were padding my bedrails, starting magnesium, inserting a catheter, more blood draws, pushing beta blockers, starting Pitocin.

Time to get that baby out!

I felt SICK.

I remembered this feeling from Sarah's labor and delivery.

Pre-eclampsia is no joke.

Magnesium is THE WORST.

I hardly felt the contractions now. Nothing compared to the awful heat and flu-like symptoms that the magnesium brought on. 

Matt sat near me and risked his life by yawning. But I was too achey and tired and scared to even yell at him. He told me that every time the nurse came in the room, she was bumping up the Pitocin. I still couldn't feel a thing. The doc came in around 6:30, as the bag of antibiotics had just finished running. He broke my water and after two huge gushes, he said he'd be back by 9p to deliver the baby. I was still only 5cm and 50% effaced, so I cried and knew I'd be in labor forever more.

The contractions stopped. 

My blood pressure still wasn't going down. They had tried three different meds at this point, and everyone was watching carefully.

At 8:15, the nurse came in again. I told her I just needed to get the catheter out and walk around and I knew I could make the contractions start alone. She said she'd bump up the Pitocin again and she could not allow me to walk around. She put a Risk for Falls band around my wrist to remind my stubborn self that I couldn't even roll over in bed alone, let alone walk on a floor.

About two minutes later, at 8:17pm,  a contraction hit me so hard I couldn't breathe through it.

I think I broke Matt's finger. 

I pictured Jesus, holding his hand out to Peter again.

I put myself in Peter's place.

"Grab that hand. Save me, Jesus!" I repeated over and over in my head.

I knew Matt was there, but I couldn't focus on his eyes like I always do during labor. The magnesium made my vision so fuzzy. I couldn't think straight. I was scared. Nothing felt right.

I imagined Aileen telling me that I never had to do that contraction again and to allow my body to sink back into the bed. As I breathed the pain out, another contraction came searing through. 

I NEEDED THAT CATHETER OUT!

I called the nurse and told her I had to use the bathroom and needed to walk around! Please let me walk around! She checked me and said I was only 7cm and 90%...

With the next contraction, I cried to Matt that I needed pain medicine and I would be in labor forever because this baby wasn't coming.

I tried to focus on his face but all I saw was him looking up at the nurse and maybe nodding...was he nodding? Why was he nodding?!?! Why was he so irritating?!?!? Matt is the worst, I thought. I made a mental note to tell him later how obnoxious he was. I should have known by my attitude at this point that I was in transition and just moments from delivering. But I was too angry, and Matt was probably too afraid of me to say a word.

I begged with the next contraction to be able to just stand next to the bed. The nurse said all I could do was roll over onto my other side. She and Matt BOTH had to hoist me and roll me on my right. (Insert whale emoji here.) I pushed Matt's hand away from my back, while at the same time begging for him to roll me back to my left. I needed to be able to see his face! 

Then, the feeling came. THE feeling.

I told the nurse to take my catheter out immediately. She checked me and said I was only 8cm, and that I had a lip. I was going to tell her what I usually do with the lip (and maybe what she should do with her own lip) but the next contraction came fiercely. 

She removed the catheter and I breathed in a deep sigh of relief. There was space there that wasn't before. 

As I breathed out, my body responded to another contraction by an urge I couldn't overcome.

I groaned. I could feel Matt tense up at the noise. We all knew. I heard the nurse call the doctor on the phone next to me as the babe crowned.

I apologized over and over and over again. I couldn't breathe through the urge.

The doctor ran in, chuckled, and with one push we delivered her shoulders and the rest of her perfect little body.

She was here.

 8:48pm. 7lbs 2oz and 21 inches of pure sugar. 

 Rainbow Baby.

 Apgars 9 and 10.

She was perfect. Pink and perfect. A full head of dark hair. Loud cries. Long fingers and perfect toes and just, sigh, all of my heart in one tiny body.

The doctor asked if I wanted to see the thing that had caused all this pre-eclamptic trouble. I had no idea he was talking about my placenta. We all waited for my blood pressure to come down. 

But it just wouldn't.

More magnesium, more Pitocin, more fluids, more visits from the A Team. We tried everything. 

I had a brand new baby and couldn't see straight to hold her. I was never so grateful for Matt.

At home, Grandma Lois had come and cared for the children all afternoon and into the evening. My parents drove straight through Ohio and arrived at bedtime to help with the children. Matt was able, for the first time since Sarah, to stay with me overnight at the hospital. 

The next day was a whirlwind. Each doctor said the same thing: Lucy was perfect, but my blood pressure was alarming. We couldn't get it below 180/90. My nurses were wonderful and kind, but also extremely concerned. I was on blood pressure checks every hour, and more frequently as we tried new medications. There was talk of needing to formula feed the baby so we could try some stronger meds that weren't acceptable for breastfeeding. Everything felt so out of control. I was sad. I missed my children. I missed being home. I wasn't sleeping. Matt was very anxious and I knew the children were confused as to why I never came back from my appointment the day before and why Lucy had to come so quickly. I thought I would only be in the hospital for 24 hours, but each day brought more bad news regarding my blood pressure. 

Matt stayed with me as much as he could, running home only to help with the kids when I asked him to.

On Day 5 at the hospital, I had given up hope. I was spending more time crying than anything else. Lucy was losing weight. I wasn't able to sleep. My body was under severe stress from all the medications being started and discontinued and dosages being adjusted...

OH, AND I HAD JUST GONE THROUGH LABOR AND DELIVERY!

Anywayyyyyy, the doctor came in on day 5 and gave me clear instructions on what to look for, as I guess pre-eclampsia is just as dangerous after delivery as it is before. Risk for stroke, seizures, etc. Take my blood pressure. Stay on all my new meds. Go home and get in bed and don't move except to nurse that baby.

I knew I would heal best and improve the minute I saw the kids and climbed into my own bed. Matt was happy and I was relieved. Our trip home was full of sunshine.

And then there were 10

Each day gets a little better. After many visits to the doctor for jaundice checks and blood draws and weigh-ins, we seem to be hitting a stride with Lucy. We did end up supplementing with formula, since my milk just didn't come in as it should. The lactation consultants claim it was the stress of the delivery and after.

 I BELIEVE IT!
 It's been just over three weeks now since she arrived and I feel as though it was just yesterday.