Part one here.
Back to the story, when things actually start happening.
Fortunately, the anesthesiologist was back in my room in
just a few minutes. Unfortunately, this guy FORGOT HIS COMPUTER PASSWORD, and
couldn’t log in to do what he needed to do to get me my shot. It was a huge
fiasco, and it took every fiber of my being not to throw something or scream at
him. I ended up screaming at the nurse later (I don’t remember this at all,
Will told me about it) but managed to keep my cool with this guy. Finally,
around what I guess was 4:30am or 5:00am, I had my epidural. Getting the actual shot was NOTHING pain wise compared to the contractions, and I don’t even think I felt
it.
My contractions should have been a little shorter and less
intense pretty quickly, but that was not the case. At all. I could still feel all of
them and I really felt like not only was I going to lose it, but there was no
way my baby could be doing well if I was feeling this horrible. I am sure this
was a totally irrational thought, but it’s how I felt in the moment. I basically
just totally lost my cool.
The nurse called the anesthesiologist back pretty quickly to
up my dosage of pain meds, and I could tell he was shocked I was still in so
much pain. Then I noticed relief was only in one side of my body, so he upped
the dose again and had me lay on my side. At this point, it was maybe 5 something
in the morning. Just 2-3 hours into my labor. The anesthesiologist suggest the
nurse check my cervix again, because the contractions I was experiencing were
in no way those of a woman that was only 3 centimeters dilated. She seemed
skeptical, but did it anyway. Or maybe my OB came and did it? I really have no
clue who was where at this point. I was just savoring the glory that is the
epidural. Anyway, whoever checked me discovered I was at 8 centimeters! EIGHT!
Just 2-3 hours in. I couldn’t believe it.
Things really become blurry for me here. I remember telling
Will to call our parents to come to the hospital. I remember freaking out a bit because I thought
I’d have the entire day to labor, mentally prepare, and take pictures with Will
of me in my hospital gown for us to save forever- but here I was about to have
this baby and the sun wasn’t even up.
Our parents were there within 20-30 minutes. In that time
they’d drained my bladder and I think gave me more fluids. Will went out to
update our parents while we waited for my OB to get to the room. I know it was
daylight at this point, and the sun is rising here about 7:15am, so we will say
it was that time. I assumed there’d be a bit of a break before I pushed
considering I JUST started feeling relief from contractions, and was so numb and
exhausted there was no way I could push. I was wrong. I literally had to call
Will’s Dad (Will’s phone was in the room with me) and talk to my father in law
while I was on the delivery table, because we needed Will to come back to the
room so I could push!
He was back in a flash and they had me do a practice push.
It was a good one, so we got down to business. The pushing was weird, but
painless. I couldn’t feel a thing, so I have no idea how I managed to actually
do it, but I did. I asked Will on my second contraction pushing what was
happening, and he said he could see her head! That quickly! I laughed and
talked the whole time. I pushed for 3 contractions, and bam, there she was. Our
perfect, beautiful, baby girl was born. I somehow felt the bones of her
shoulders coming out, but it didn’t hurt. Will cut the cord and they handed her
to me for a few seconds before getting her cleaned up. It was amazing and
indescribable.
The feeling of 150 billion percent joy I was feeling was
pretty short lived. When I first saw Norah, I thought she looked too blue, and
she wasn’t crying. Turns out both of these things are normal, but since I
thought they weren’t, I was watching the nurses handle her very closely. I
couldn’t even turn around and look at Will. I just knew something was wrong.
The nurses did their normal checks of the baby and exchanged
a few words. Some I could hear, some I couldn’t. I knew it wasn’t good though
because they weren’t looking at me and wouldn’t tell me what was happening. One
of them made a phone call and another, more senior looking nurse came in and
began checking over Norah. I don’t remember which one of them told us this or
how they said it, but they told us that her heart rate was extremely high. In
the 270 range, when normal would have been something in the low to mid 100’s.
They didn’t know why or what the cause was, but they’d be taking her to the
NICU immediately. They suspected maybe it was from how quickly my labor
progressed, but no one knew for sure.
I knew a lot of babies went to the NICU for a quick check
after being born as a precaution, so at first, I wasn’t too out of my mind
worried. I sobbed anyway. I wanted my baby. I wanted to do skin to skin and
hold her and look at her little face. I was emotional anyway from you know,
having a baby, so I just sobbed. Will went with Norah to the NICU. I cried for
my Mom.
At some point I think I tried to get off the table and say I
wanted to go to my baby. This is while the OB is still delivering my placenta
and stitching me up. I didn’t even know he was still in the room. All I could
think about was her.
I think it was just when my Mom got to the room that a nurse
came back to give me an update. The NICU doctors had tried to lower her heart
rate by covering her face with ice packs. I had no idea this was a medical
treatment, but what do I know? Anyhow, they tried it twice and it didn’t work.
There is an excellent Children’s Hospital in Cincinnati (about 20 minutes from
where we were), and the doctors at my hospital were communicating with the
cardiologist there on what to do. This is when I started to get really,
seriously scared.
The nurse then let us know that an ambulance was on the way
to take Norah to the Cardiac ICU at Children’s to see what was wrong with her
heart and get the rate down. She said this was best since they were calling
there to get information on every treatment decision anyway.
This is when I lost it. It was terrible. I started sobbing
and was hysterical. They became worried about my health at this time and took
my blood pressure, which was of course through the roof. The nurses tried to
assure me everything was OK, and encouraged me to remain calm because if my
blood pressure was too high they wouldn’t let me leave my room to say goodbye
to her, and it could prevent me from being discharged as soon as possible. It
was hard to stop crying and moaning and having what I can only describe as a
complete emotional breakdown, but those warnings shut me up pretty quickly.
Maybe 30 minutes (I think?) went by before I got to see
Will. They sent him back and he gave me the same update the nurse had. I don’t
remember who told me first, but turns out on a third try of the ice method, her
heart rate slowed. It’d been high for an extended period of time though, so she
still had to go to Children’s. I was happy no medication was necessary, but
still scared to death.
The nurses wheeled me back to the NICU to hold my baby
before the ambulance got there. We passed our families and some other patients
on the way and I couldn’t look at anyone. I was a fraction of a second from
losing it again and I really didn’t want them to not let me hold her.
When I got to her NICU room everyone cleared out except for
one nurse and I think Will? They handed her to me and I couldn’t believe how
perfect she was, or how sad it was that she was hooked up to so many wires and
machines. I knew I only had about 15 minutes, so I tried to just stare at her
and smell her. She looked at me and gave me a sort of smile, which started my
tears (calm ones this time at least) all over again. I knew our 4 family
members that were there were also worried, so I gave up a few minutes so each
of them could come see her for a second. Then the ambulance crew arrived. They
were extremely nice, reassuring, and let me have a few extra minutes with her,
even though I am sure they were on a tight schedule.
I had to give her to them, and they put her in one of those
infant incubator looking bed type things that was attached to the top of a
stretcher. It was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen, and the last thing I
expected to be dealing with an hour after I gave birth.
Will rode with Norah in the ambulance to Children’s, so we
said our goodbyes. I was moved to a recovery room. My mom and sister stayed
with me, and Will’s parents headed to Children’s to be with him and the baby.
In my recovery room, I was still barley holding it together.
My Mom wanted me to take a sleeping pill since I’d been up for well over 24
hours at this point and couldn’t manage to calm down, but the nurse advised
against it since I would be trying to breastfeed.
Luckily, physically, I was OK. I had only had a very minor
tear, and the bleeding wasn’t too bad, so most of my suffering was mental. I
sent my family home to get some rest themselves because truthfully I just
wanted to be alone. Each nurse and PCT and doctor that came and went made it harder
and harder. Some seemed to know my situation and were sympathetic, offering
kind words and prayers, which broke my heart. Some seemed to have no clue why I was in recovery with no baby and didn’t even acknowledge that I was alone in
the room with no child and no husband, and that seemed so cold and hurtful to
me.
Will sent me pictures and updates as often as he could. I
have never been more thankful or sure of my love for my husband as I was on these days. Neither of us were prepared for this, and I had taken the lead on
everything related to our hospital stay and what we wanted for the baby. He
really stepped up as support for Norah, being her advocate since I wasn’t there to make the feeding and other decisions. He had to
make all of her medical decisions that day without me, and watch all of the
procedures performed on our tiny baby. All while knowing I was across town
alone and devastated. Of course being with Norah was better than being alone in
a hospital room, but both were hard roads to walk.
We found out that her rapid heart rate was due to a her
having a condition called Supraventricular Tachycardia. She would probably be
totally fine, but would remain at Children’s at least overnight for monitoring.
I spent the day texting friends and family and just thinking about my baby. One
really nice nurse had given me the hat she wore when she was first born, and I
hung on to that thing for dear life. I finally managed to fall asleep around
midnight.
The next morning I was up bright and early, determined to be
discharged. My Mom and sister brought Panera for breakfast, and following my
sister in laws suggestion, I showered, put on make up, and packed up all my
things. I wanted to look as cheery and normal as possible so they’d know I was
ready to leave. No one could guarantee me when the OB would make their rounds, so
I prayed it’d be first thing. At about 10am I got my wish and a resident from
my practice came to see me. She said she assumed I was ready to go be with my
baby (DUH!!), and approved my discharge. I was ecstatic.
Within a couple of hours we were packed up and on our way to be with Norah. I have never been so happy to see that part of town in my life. Children’s is just down the street from UC, and I sent Will a message that Norah just must have not been able to wait to get down to campus. Future Bearcat on our hands!
I had my mom drop me off at the entrance and Will’s dad
wheeled me up to the Cardiac ICU. I was in our room within minutes, and finally
got to hold my baby. Will had already given her her first bath, changed her
first diaper, fed her her first bottle. It was hard for me to accept these
things, but I was just happy to finally be with my family.
A few hours after my arrival we were moved to a Cardiac Step
Down unit. I think I left that room 3 times in the two days, and only left the
unit area once, never stepping outside the hospital. In that room very few
minutes of sleep were had. Lots of tears were shed. I cried over breastfeeding.
Over the shots and tests and needle pricks that I had to watch Norah endure at
all hours of the day and night. I cried because I’d missed over a day of her
life. I cried because she had a heart condition. And I cried because we were
going to leave Children’s with a happy baby, and I knew so many families there wouldn’t
be so lucky. About a day and a half later we were discharged.
And that is our story. I will post more one day
about her condition and what it means for our family. For now, we're just happy to be home!
And now I'm crying at my desk! How terrifying!! I can't even imagine how you got through those first 24 hours without that little precious baby! Definitely a hard day for you! SO glad the whole family is together now! :)
Glad she's better. And the picture of her and Will is so sweet :)
You did such an amazing job writing your story. My heart hurt for you. I am so glad that she is okay.
Oh my gosh Brittany. This is the stuff they just can't prepare you for. I would be a wreck too!!! What a hard, but very rewarding day. So glad everything is okay and you have your baby girl to hold at home now!
Omg what a story! Teared up & had to tell myself to get it together, you're at work! Woo I'm glad she's doing so well now. Can't imagine the stress that was to you guys.
Still loving your blog :)
Nicky B.
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