So, here's the story. Sort of. I'm sparing details here, mainly because no one cares THAT much - I just write for catharsis, really. Not to mention that I'm postpartum crazy and there's no telling what I might say - or how many tears I might cry while typing.
I've blogged before about this pregnancy being a total God intervention thing. That was really only confirmed about a million times over the past 39 weeks and then for the next almost 2 weeks following delivery. As much information as I give freely, I keep inside as well. So, most of you don't know about the 4 days that my husband and I spent in labor and delivery when I was 17 weeks pregnant with this princess (that I totally didn't know was a princess - you know I thought it was a dude!). At 17 weeks, my family went on a weekend visit to my parents' house. I woke from a deep sleep in extreme pain - and I'm seriously not a pain weenie at all - if I say it hurts, it's a big deal. I couldn't get comfortable, I knew it was contractions - big time, long, unrelenting contractions. I tried every trick that I knew to get rid of them - but nothing worked. I knew something was really wrong. I woke Jimmy up at 1:30 and said simply, "we have to go home. now." He knew I was serious and so he woke my Mom up and said, "we're going home, Amy's hurting, just keep W and bring her up later". We drove home quietly. I tried to go home and rest, but the pain didn't quit. I woke Jimmy up again and said, "we have to go to the hospital". He said, "but we look like white trash". I informed him that I didn't care - that I was hurting badly. He knew it was serious. I was scared. I know too much - look what I do for a living, seriously.... The bottom line is yes, I was contracting a crapload. The baby was fine - praise the Lord. My cervix was closed - another praise. I did, however have an enormous (read: 10-11 centimeter) fibroid tumor causing the contractions. Basically, there wasn't anything to do other than try to ease the pain - but I'm stubborn (shocker!) and wouldn't hardly take anything. My sweet, sweet friends and even strangers surrounded us with prayer for this tiny baby, this pain, and the whole situation. We watched as God heard our pleas, had mercy on us and kept our baby safe and my cervix closed. He eased our mind through a consult with a specialist who had seen this many times before and knew it wasn't preterm labor - it was just problems related to the fibroid. His prediction: you'll carry this baby to term, the pregnancy will just kinda suck and be painful. Pain, schmain. I'm cool with it - as long as our baby was okay. There were so many things that fell into line over those 4 days that had God written all over them - people that came by, things that they said, verses that I read, physicians, nurses, circumstances. God was all over the situation - and He is good.
The pregnancy was not terrible, really. Contrary to how many people thought that I was miserable and enormous. I contracted a lot from 17-25 weeks, but then they chilled out a lot. Yay! Probably because the baby got so much bigger than the fibroid. We were cleared by the high-risk doctor and our regular OB watched as our baby grew and grew - another praise - no growth restriction from the fibroid. We rocked along for a while...and then the time came.
I'm a planner. That's really the message of this whole blog - and the lesson that God is obviously desperately trying to teach me. Let go, Amy. Let go. It's not YOU....it's ME. It's not YOUR time table, it's MINE. YOU control nothing, I control everything. So, the ultimate lesson begins on a Sunday afternoon with a little discomfort in my back and abdomen. Nothing unusual for a 39 week pregnant chick. I did what anyone else would do, I drank a bottle of water and took a nap. About an hour and a half later, it was still hurting. Bad enough to notice, not bad enough to think much about it. I watched TV for a while. It got worse. I texted my work friends to see who was on for anesthesia - you know, just in case. I wasn't convinced. It got worse. I texted my friend, Elizabeth, to come check my cervix - yeah, we're freaks like that - don't judge - it's just a job, it's not weird. I took a warm bath. It got better - for a minute - Elizabeth came over and checked the ole cervix. 0/70/-2. In laymans terms, it was closed. It got worse. Jimmy and Elizabeth were asking if I wanted to go to the hospital. Denial 101 (that's me) said no, I'd wait til morning. Then, I had a few times where I couldn't hardly stand from the pain. Still denial 101 said no. Elizabeth went home. Jimmy gave me a tylenol. Ha. It worked for about 30 minutes. I said a few very bad words. Not like me at all. Elizabeth texted me and asked if I wanted to go to the hospital & just see what the baby's heartbeat looked like during the contractions. Yes, I said. Yes, I do want to know that. I should've known the severity of the situation when I left the house with my hair in a bun, minimal makeup, a tie dye Christian fish t-shirt of my husband's, some scrub pants, flip flops, and Jimmy's grey pullover because I had the chills. I didn't care.
Details spared, we got to the hospital and I was still in denial 101. I was blessed to be surrounded by nurses and friends who could separate themselves from the situation. I was tunnel visioned to the fact that we were scheduled for a c-section on Wednesday the 19th and that was going to be my baby's birthday and everyone was going to be there and it was going to be on my terms, my plan, with my chosen people. Anyone see God in that? Nah, I didn't think so. Downfall number one, Amy. My sweet friends became concerned with the amount of pain that I was in and how often I was contracting...and why couldn't anyone touch my belly? What was up with that? My parents came to watch W, my husband arrived at the hospital. I was in dire pain- I'm not going to lie, but I wouldn't take anything until I saw his face and talked to him. He's my person, my rock on this Earth and I needed him. I took some pain meds when he arrived and tried to tough it out until morning so I could still remotely be in control. Downfall two, Amy. I continued to wake and moan during every contraction as my sweet husband stayed awake at my bedside and watched me and our baby's heartbeat. Apparently, my friends wanted to smack me around and put me out of my misery - but I was being stupid. What the crap was I waiting on? Control. That's what. I needed it. Close to 0245, there was a pretty significant drop in the baby's heart rate - for a few minutes. Jimmy woke me up, I knew what was up, but I was in such pain that I couldn't hardly cooperate. I started crying because I knew what it meant. All bets were off, I had lost control - it was baby time. I heard my doctor at the bedside, I heard my friends hurrying to get me ready to have our baby. I heard my husband call my dad & say that we were about to have a baby now and that one person could come. I held his hand so tightly and looked at him with tears in my eyes. I dish this stuff out to people ALL THE TIME at work - fast moving deliveries when things are a little less-than-stellar in the uterus. It is SO different to be on the receiving end....I know that this one experience will change the way in which I nurse. So, if there has to be a good - there it is. A few minutes later, we whisked off to the OR - our baby was doing good, so I had a spinal - YAY!!! YAY!!! And a few minutes later - there SHE was!!!! I heard those beautiful, life changing words from my husband, just as I had heard them almost 5 years ago: "It's a girl!!!" She was perfect. I was perfect. Life was perfect....if only for a few hours.
This kid breastfed like a champ, she snuggled, she got a bath, she met her big sister - who was in LOVE with her, she met more of her family who had been waiting so long to snuggle her, too! My sweet, exhausted friends moved me to my permanent room and went home to get some shut eye. This is just about where the nightmare begins. Yep. Nightmare. That's how I view it. I'd rather take 3-4 more hours of labor pains than to deal with the next almost 2 weeks. How about them apples. That's how I feel about it. So, I'm kicking it in my room with my family when new baby's pediatrician comes in and says that she was dropping her sats. For you non-nursey folks - she wasn't staying pink and was turning kinda blue and needed oxygen. I was concerned, but thought it may have just been a little transitional thing that happens frequently - especially with c section babies. Well...within 20 minutes, someone else comes to inform me that she has been transported to the NICU. Of course, I can't go see her - my legs don't even work yet. As the hours passed, the news got worse, she was on oxygen - they had turned it up and up - she was on an oxygen hood - she had an IV. What the mess?? She had a fever and was receiving antibiotics. Seriously? Can a girl catch a break? People would stop by wanting to see my baby and I had to tell them that she went to the NICU. I didn't even hardly get a chance to see her. My friend came to take pics of her with her big sister - I had to tell her that she was in the NICU. My heart was broken. Shortly thereafter, things began going downhill for me too. My belly still hurt to touch. I spiked a fever of 104.5 with chills and a heart rate of 150. People were freaking. There was a cooling blanket and lots of staff involved. There was an infectious disease doctor. This happened 2 nights in a row. I couldn't go see my baby because of my fever. Neither of us grew anything in our blood cultures. She simply had a fever virus- one that would be pretty much nothing to you or I, but the fact that she was 1 day old means that she needed major support. I lost track of time while I was in the hospital. If you came to see me, I'm sorry - I'm sure I was a space cadet/basket case. I know that I wasn't very nice to the nurse who told me to pump and dump because of an antibiotic - I pretty much told her there was no way in Hades because I was making antibodies that my baby desperately needed. Boo-ya. Don't mess with the breastfeeding Nazi while she's sick and out of control. Did you catch it? There's that word again - my lesson from God. It's getting major, huh? As the days ran together, here's what I remember: I was getting some major antibiotics, I had a uterine infection and an abdominal wall infection, I was getting iron infusions that weren't helping. I was on IV stick number 12 or 15 when some sweet soul decided to put me out of my misery and sent me for a PICC line. Non-nurseys, google it. My blood count dropped a lot and wasn't getting better, so there were 2 units of blood involved - THAT'S when I started feeling remotely human again. My baby got better - off of oxygen - and then back on oxygen - and then off - and then back on - and finally off again. It was the worst roller coaster ever. I just wanted the nightmare to end. My sweet girl at home was in disarray. We prepared her for 3 nights away from Mommy and Daddy. She was acting out, throwing shoes at dance, being mean to her grandparents, talking back. She was afraid because she saw me a couple of the bad nights. We made the decision for Jimmy to stay with her and my Daddy stayed with me. I missed my family terribly. Terribly. My poor Daddy is probably so over me - he's waddled to the NICU with me at all hours, toted my Boppy, washed my breast pump parts, and hung out while I fed my kid every 3-4 hours for days and nights. He slept in a recliner, for Pete's sake. Unconditional love - I'd say so.
God has really taught me so much through this that I can't wrap my brain around it yet. I have a selfish heart - service is difficult for me and I have prayed about it a lot. I have been shown service by so many people throughout this ordeal. I have a group of close friends that came on a weekend to lay hands on me and pray over me and read scripture over me on behalf of me and new baby girl. That was one of the biggest blessings of my life. We have people bringing us meals 3 days a week as we adjust and I heal. I believe that God is showing me how to serve others. He is allowing me to feel the blessing so I can know what it is like to serve in His name and be the blessing to others. Of course, there is the control lesson. It's a biggie. It's still on going. You see, the fibroid isn't gone. It's still enormous (10-11cm). It should slowly shrink. I'm not sure about it. I still look 5 months pregnant. I have stretchmarks. Those of you who know my struggles with eating/weight/looks. This is probably the hardest aspect of the whole thing. It's like the other things have passed, but this is what I am left with and I don't know how to handle it. What if I'm never the same again? Why am I still grieving the loss of the "perfect scenario"? Yes. I am still grieving the loss of the perfect scenario. I wanted time with my girls and husband in a regular room, with a 3 day stay, everyone home on the same day, no extra drugs/oxygen/lines/blood/etc. I want my belly to go down like normal bellies. I want my life to be normal again. That is truly my cry right now. I need normalcy. I see people running and I want to feel like them. I want to be in Disney with my family like the other people on Facebook. I don't know anything else to do other than bask in the snuggliness of our newborn and the warm fuzzies I get thinking about our newly big family and how it will be normal again. I dream about it. Is that weird? Yes, I dream about laying on my belly and wearing regular jeans and not hurting anymore. I think it will happen, but in typical fashion for this lesson - it will NOT be on my timetable. It will be on HIS.
My prayer is for God to help me through this time - this uncertainty and for me to see His lessons and heed them, to learn how to be a blessing and serve others - to change my heart to want to serve. To show His love to others, just as so many has shown it to our family. To give my family my all - because they give me their all. Thanks for reading this crazy story - it's long and probably rambly and I've cried through at least 1/3 of it - which is better than I thought I would do. If you're reading this and you prayed for us, gave us a gift, stuck me for an IV, took care of me or my sweet baby girl, sent us a text message, asked about us, made us food, or just thought of us. Thank you. I hope that I am normal again soon - enough to repay the love. <3 p="p">
Now that I've poured my heart out...I hope YOU still love me, too :)
I know you probably don't see it yet, but it's a beautiful story Amy. What you learned and what you came home with. It's a story that others can relate to in their own way... it's all beautiful. We can't wait to see you and meet Courtney.
ReplyDeletePS - The Lesters are bringing you dinner this week, and with it box from us, full of gently used clothes that need a new little girl to rock them. :)