New Years Eve is supposed to be a day of fun and excitement,
but for me it was misery. I felt awful
and I was exhausted, even more so than the average 31 week pregnant mama should
feel. This year it fell on a Saturday and during
the day we threw a party for my parents who were celebrating their 40th
wedding anniversary the following week. Despite
my misery, I put on a happy face because I was throwing the party along with my
brothers. The party went off without a
hitch so I decided to go home and take a nap before going out to dinner. We already had Grandma lined up to babysit,
and it’s so rare that I go out, especially with my big brother who lives out of
town. I was really looking forward to
it…knowing that baby boy would be arriving in 2 months and my nights out would soon
be non-existent.
So I went out to an expensive dinner with my brothers and
ordered a 40 dollar steak that I didn’t touch.
(Damn money wasted!) My
sister-in-law commented that I was turning white and I was in intense
pain. In my heart I knew that something
was seriously wrong and I suggested we go home.
My husband was very worried because it is not like me to want to leave a
rare night out. I ended up calling my OB
to wish him a Happy New Year and to tell him that I thought I was dying. I gave him my list of symptoms and he told me
that it’s very possible that the baby was turning (he had been transverse) and
to rest and come into the office on Tuesday.
I had intense chills and pain and we talked about modifying my diet
because I was probably going into a little bit of sugar shock. The following day I felt better and when I
looked in the mirror, the baby was definitely lower so I concluded that he must
have turned down, which made me very happy.
On Tuesday I went into the office and they checked all of my
vitals. My blood pressure (which is
normally on the low side) was mildly elevated but within normal limits, there
was no protein in my urine (which is what they check for to rule out
pre-eclampsia) and I had a sono which showed that baby had turned down. Yay – I was hopeful that I may get my VBAC , and
we concluded that the pain was the baby turning. I wasn’t dilated or effaced and they gave me
a test called a fetal fibronectin test to determine if I was at risk for
pre-term labor and it came back negative.
Since I had been feeling better and baby had turned down, I set up my
next appointment for 2 weeks down the road.
Within another day or two I was back to being
miserable. I still had chills despite
modifying my diet, I had intense pain and tenderness in the abdomen and
couldn’t get comfortable or sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time. My feet were double the size, and I started
getting nosebleeds. With my first I became dehydrated which affected my
amniotic fluid, so this time around I was very cognizant about drinking lots of
water, but I was vomiting, had diarrhea, couldn’t eat and prayed that I would
make it through the rest of the pregnancy.
With my next OB visit over a week away, I called to get in on Monday the
9th and told them that I had to be seen. I was so sleep deprived that I wrote down a
list of all my symptoms because I was so uncomfortable and upset that I broke
down into tears and couldn’t even talk the nurse. They weighted me and I was down 4 pounds from
the previous week and they checked my urine which was almost orange and had
protein in it this time. The nurse
hooked me up to the blood pressure machine and got my reading and made a funny
face. She commented that the machine
must be broken because my blood pressure reading was much too high and she
would take it manually instead. They put
me on a non-stress test and baby was hardly moving. The nurse practitioner called my OB who was
already at the hospital said that I should skedaddle right over to labor and
delivery. Still not realizing the
severity of the situation, I called my parents and hubby, swung by the
preschool to pick up my son (knowing I would otherwise miss dismissal) and
headed over to meet my OB. I was very
calm because I was not in labor, so I never for a moment thought that I would
be delivering that day. In my mind, I’d
go and get IV fluids because I was very dehydrated, and my biggest fear is that
I’d be put on bedrest.
As we drove I leisurely passed the ferry boats in port Jeff
and as I passed the Frigate, Goofball saw the big ice cream cone and asked if
we can stop for an ice cream. I promised
him that later today we would get him some when Mommy is done seeing the
doctor.
I was admitted and assumed that they would give me some IV
fluids (which they did) and would monitor me for a bit or possibly keep me
overnight. By this time hubby had
arrived. The nurses started drawing
blood. Being a type A personality I had
grabbed my phone list for my religious school class and started making calls to
tell them that I was going to cancel the class for the night. I called the first parent and we chatted and
I told her that I was being monitored and will call her back later in the week
to reschedule the class.
My OB came to see me and said that based on my liver results
they want to give me a c-section that night.
My jaw dropped and my husband and I exchanged scared looks. I started to cry. My OB left the room and
came back within a minute or two holding a paper, shaking his head, and he was
accompanied by the anesthesiologist. He
was holding the results of my platelet count which was dangerously low – so low
that the nurses began prepping me for a c-section right there and then. I was in disbelief and immediately I felt
like I had no control over my fate. Knowing
that my students would be waiting for me, I told the nurses that I needed 3
minutes to make a phone call. I picked
up the religious school roster and prayed that my supervisor would pick up the
phone, which she did. I starting rolling
off a list of names and phone numbers to her and told her to cancel class, all
while the nurse is standing there in disbelief saying “Can’t someone else make
these calls for you?”
The next 10 minutes were a total blur. They had the NICU nurse come to see me and
tell me that she’ll be in the OR and taking the baby when he comes out. They brought me forms to sign – still not
sure what I signed – maybe a consent for surgery, or a consent to not sue if
they kill me, or the deed to my house? I
was so scared that my baby wasn’t ready to come out and I just couldn’t
understand why I couldn’t be monitored for the next few hours, days or weeks,
but I was too hysterical crying to ask questions, and the nurses were too
frantic running around to answer questions.
I was poked and prodded and my
parents had just gotten there as they were prepping me. They grabbed Goofball (whose only concern was
whether or not he can have some ice cream) and I kissed hubby and they wheeled
me out.
I was off to the operating room without any warning and
without my hubby. I was knocked out and
Baby Mush was born. He arrived on my
parents 40th anniversary! No
one could top my gift to my parents – their 6th grandchild!
