Our Journey to the NICU

Never in a million years did I expect my perfectly healthy pregnancy and big baby girl to end up in the NICU for 7 days.  Of course, I guess anyone who has a baby that ends up in the NICU doesn't really expect it, no matter what the circumstance.

As I said on Facebook in this post, we have been extremely blessed throughout this process. My time in the NICU, though stressful and emotional for me, is not even remotely close to what many moms and dads have experienced--even some of my own friends who had babies arrive weeks or months earlier have much more compelling stories than my own. I do not, through this post, try to make my situation sound any better than theirs. After all, if you put our situations on a scale, mine would certainly be light.  However, emotionally, I am sure that many of the feelings are the same. So, though my story might be much weaker than many others, I hope you'll endure the telling of it, and lend me grace.

I sent Nick home the first night I was in the hospital. It was what our childbirth instructor suggested us to do, because she said the 2nd night was the really hard one, and that we would rather have a rested husband on the 2nd night than a cranky one.  I recognized how tired Nick was--while I was able to have an Ambien and then have an epidural-induced sleep (totaling around 7 hours), Nick was only able to sleep while I had my epidural (and he is a light sleeper, so he probably didn't sleep all that wonderfully, anyway). Though I desired for him to stay, I also knew that he needed to get some good sleep. I told him to go and come back the next morning--he planned on coming in around 9 or so.

Little did I know then how much I would end up needing him! I hope that writing this doesn't make Nick seem like a bad guy for not staying. We literally had no idea what was going to happen that night, and we only knew the advice that a reliable source had given us: he needed to go home. We both felt (at the time) perfectly happy with that decision.  Nick has been awesome--I don't want this to make it seem like he abandoned me or anything. He totally didn't.

After Avonlea was born, we had a couple of visitors, plus I was hyped up on different drugs and the activities of the day, and although the picture in the previous entry looks like I slept, I didn't sleep at all during the day that Avonlea arrived.

The first night, I stayed up almost all night. I did get an hour of sleep here and there, but they are an exclusive room-in-only hospital. I didn't find this out until later that night--or I might've made arrangements for someone else to stay with me that first night!  I was trying to breastfeed every couple of hours, but she wouldn't latch on for any length of time. I was also extremely itchy from the anesthesia wearing off. I was given Benadryl at one point, and the nurses watched Avonlea for an hour because I fell into a Benadryl sleep.  I was being given oxytocin to help get rid of my blood clots, and the IV made a noise that sounded just like our door opening, so all night long I kept looking over at the door. I kept waking up in pain. And of course, hospitals are just really loud. The nurses also kept coming to get Avonlea over and over to do different tests--a few of them they had to do more than once--turns out, her blood clots super fast and they kept having to redo some of the tests because her samples had clotted too quickly.

I enjoyed having the bonding time with Avonlea--I propped her up on my knees on a pillow, and we just watched each other.

But I was also physically exhausted. I kept needing to call the nurses, which made me feel bad (yes, I know it's their jobs, but I still don't like to be that one who keeps calling over and over).  I mean, I couldn't even get Avonlea out of her baby bed that was right next to mine! So anytime she needed to be changed or fed or wrapped up again, I had to call someone.  Grr...

But, when I really needed Nick was in the morning. At 7am, my doctor came in to check on me and pronounced that I was doing well. Then around 7:30, the pediatrician came in. He introduced himself to me, and explained that one of the tests he had ordered last night was a CBC count, and a CRP count. The CBC count was to see how many white blood cells she had. Her number was 30,000, which seems like a lot, but I guess is only borderline normal. It should be much higher than that. Then, the CRP test checks for inflammation or infection in the body. A good definition I found is:

C-reactive protein is released into the blood by the liver shortly after the start of an infection or inflammation. CRP is an early indicator of these problems because its levels usually start to rise in the blood before symptoms, such as fever and pain, appear.

A normal CRP result in newborns is anywhere from 2-10 at the highest. Avonlea's was 19. The Pediatrician ordered another set of the same tests, to determine whether or not the rise in numbers was just from the trauma of birth, or if it was because of an infection due to her being born so far past the water breaking.

At 10 (when Nick was supposed to get to the hospital), the pediatrician called back and said that the tests had come back. While the CBC had gone back to normal, the CRP result jumped up to 35, indicating an infection. It was then that he rocked my world. He said that she would have to be admitted for a minimum of 48 hours to the NICU for a round of antibiotics.

I really think my world stopped. I don't remember most of the rest of what the pediatrician said. I just remember saying "yeah" and "okay" a lot.

I hung up the phone and called Nick immediately. He was at home, getting ready to go, and I told him to hurry and get here because a lot had gone on while he was at home.  Thankfully, he made it to the hospital before they took her down to the NICU.

After I hung up with Nick, I just held on to Avonlea and cried. It was amazing how I had already established this strong and powerful bond with someone I had just met, not even 24 hours before. While the night before by myself hadn't been my favorite, with little sleep and lots of distractions and feeding complications, when it came right down to it, when someone was going to take my baby away from me, I was willing to do anything I could to hold on to her a little bit longer. I prayed a lot until Nick got to the hospital. Asking God to protect her little body, to strengthen her cells, to help her fight off infection, to bring her back to me as soon as possible.

Taking Avonlea down to the NICU was one of the hardest things I have ever done. We wheeled her in, and I couldn't keep the tears from falling. As we went past the beds of the tiny babies, I couldn't imagine her in one of these places, away from me. It was really hard to watch her being put in that bed all by herself (I'm crying again thinking of it).

I know she won't remember this time in her life at all. She won't remember the IVs and the cords and the tubes. She won't remember the beeping and the alarms going off all around her, and the feeling of life being held on by a thread--but these are things that I won't ever be able to forget.

I am again reminded of how blessed my baby is--I joke that she is the Jolly Green Giant of the NICU ward, because she's so much bigger than the rest of the babies, but it is true, and it is a blessing. We don't get a lot of one-on-one time with the neonatologist--but the fact is, we don't need to talk to her a lot, because Avonlea's problems are small in comparison.

Avonlea's journey in the NICU will last 7 days. Her counts came back after 48 hours back down to 19, but because they didn't go down to normal immediately, it indicated an infection present in her system, so they decided to do the full course of treatment. While it makes me sad, I also know that she is in completely competent, professional hands, and she is getting the absolute best care that she can be given.  In the meantime, I am taking care of myself, getting extra rest and nutrition, and pumping every 2 hours to get my milk supply up for her.

I will post some more pictures of what life in the NICU is like in the next entry.

Recovery

After Avonlea was delivered, I stayed in surgery for another 25 minutes or so, while they literally put me back together again. I was aching to see Avonlea and to hold her. My arms were almost tingly with anticipation!

Nick had gone with the nurses and Avonlea to the nursery so she could be tested and warmed up in the warmer, and after I was stitched up I was wheeled into recovery.

One of the absolute weirdest things was the experience of being completely numb from the ribcage down, and watching them roll me over after the surgery was completed. I could see in my mind that I was moving, but it felt like I was seeing someone else, because there was no feeling associated with the movement. It was very surreal.

While I was laying there, I wondered if I would have an instant bond with her. I wondered if I would immediately love this little bundle of change. She had been brewing inside of me for 9 months, but I didn't know if I would feel like a mom right away.

Nick brought her into the recovery room with me, and I just fell in love with her instantaneously.

I worked on breastfeeding while we were in recovery. Avonlea actually latched on to one side! I was pretty excited. A long way to go, but definitely a good start!

We used this time in recovery to call and text friends and family about Avonlea's arrival. After my initial attempt at breastfeeding, my exhaustion caught up with me, and I found myself falling asleep, so I had Nick take Avonlea so she wouldn't fall. Until we got into our post-partum room, I didn't hold her again--she was all Nick's responsibility.

He took to it so quickly.

I had quite a bit of post-op bleeding, so I ended up staying in recovery much longer than the originally planned time. Each time they would start to wheel me out, I would blast out a big clot. The nurses ended up pressing on my abdomen quite a bit more than they normally would, just because every time they did it, quite a lot came out.  One time in particular, we thought it was done, and they started to wheel me out, and it was literally like my vagina vomited. Totally gross. And poor Nick, who was sitting down by my feet in this little space the whole time, saw the whole thing. I don't think he'll ever look at my lady bits the same ever again.

Oh--and thanks to whoever gave me the heads-up about the abdominal killer massages they give you post-op. They did a couple of press-downs in the operating room after they had stitched me up, but I couldn't feel them because of the anesthetic. But the ones that they did in the recovery room after removing my epidural?  Whoo boy. Pain. Thankfully, though, I anticipated it because someone let me know about it. Becky, my nurse, however, was still sad she had to deliver them because she "kept having to do it over and over."

After 2.5 or 3 hours, we left recovery and headed to our post-op room.  I was so glad to have my little girl at my side again.

It was a long morning for both of us.

After a brief nap, I had some dinner--broth, jello, and water...yummy!

Avonlea's Arrival

Wow. A LOT happened after that last update!  Will do my best to recap now, but I'm on Percoset, so I might have to fill in some gaps later.

If you haven't read the previous entries, catch up by reading these:

My water broke!

5:45pm Update

6:45pm Update

Pictures from Dad

1:30am Update (from Nick)

Now that you're caught up...

The whole birth experience has been a true lesson in "you can't always get what you want".  Or, in my case, "you might not get anything you want".

At 1:30am, I started a Pitocin drip. They started with a pretty low dosage, because my contractions were so light and irregular. They also started because I wasn't progressing at all. If you look at this "before Pitocin" picture, the top is her heartbeat on the fetal monitor, and the bottom picture is my contraction activity:

Nothin'.  It stayed that way for so long, they told me that it would be too long after my water broke for things to progress without help.

This was the first time I had to make a decision that went against my birth preference sheet. My doctor and the nurses were all on my side about the birth plan, and wanted to keep it a priority...but we were now going to run up against an unexpected time frame--the doc didn't want to go too long after my water broke. It would've been fine if my water hadn't broken until after I started having regular contractions, but since it didn't, I had some decisions to make.

I ultimately decided that while I wasn't excited about having Pitocin-induced contractions, it was still better than the C-Section alternative, so I went ahead with it. I was determined not to have pain meds, though, and NO epidural. Seriously, I am so afraid of needles. When they had to hook up the IV for the Pitocin I almost cried.  It isn't some "I want to be a hero" thing, though I did want to be able to say I had done it by myself. Mostly, it was just me being afraid of the needle-in-my-spine thing.

The contractions that I felt were never in my stomach area. They were all in my back. I have had back problems for several months now, and these were in my upper back, and especially in my lower back.

I was on Pitocin from 1:30am until 5:00am, when the nurse came to check on me. I was able to doze off and on between contractions, but for the last couple of hours, it seemed like they didn't have a let down. I was in constant pain, and then there would be a few contractions in a row where I could barely breathe. Nick was doing his best to support me, but they wouldn't let me walk around too much--I was pretty much confined to my room and the length of my IV cord. Plus, walking around didn't seem to help too much. The position that relieved the most pressure was me on my hands and knees on the bed--but then there was no rest between contractions at that point.

By 5am, I was a wreck. I was telling Nick during my contractions that I didn't think I could do it anymore. I kept telling Nick I didn't think I could do this, and he was being an awesome supporter and teling me that I was doing great, and that he knew I could do it, but the pain was taking over my desire to do this the natural way. The contractions seemed like they were all running together, and they seemed so erratic, and it was making me frantic.  The nurse came in and asked if I had been checked at all. I hadn't, so she did. I was able to think straight enough to decide that if I were at 5cm or more, I could probably keep going. It would be hellish, but I could do it.  While she was down there, she asked me if I had ever had my uterus frozen. Um, what? She asked if I had ever had any trauma or surgery or anything. When I said no, (Nick told me) she got an "I can't believe this" look on her face. She told me to hold on, that it was going to hurt, and then I thought she was tearing me apart. I didn't know what she was doing, but I really thought she was killing me. Nick was holding my hand, and she was telling me to breathe, and I just wanted it all to stop, stop, stop!

Turns out, she was trying to stretch my cervix. After all of this time, I was barely 1cm dilated. Umm, what?  She said that she was asking about the surgery, because my cervix and the opening were as hard as a steel door. The opening was about the size of an eraserhead, and she was trying to stretch it open more. She couldn't get it to do anything. At this point, I am bawling and nearly hyperventilating, both from the pain, and from what she is telling me.  This is when I am so thankful for this nurse. She took my head in her hands, looked directly into my eyes, and asked me, "What is the most important thing to you? Is it the most important thing for you to have a natural birth?" I shook my head no, and said that I just wanted to have a healthy girl. And she said, "Then you are going to have to get an epidural. We are going to have to bump up this Pitocin and get these contractions more regular and stronger to get you past this 1cm, or the doctor is going to come in here at 7am and take that baby out no matter what you want."

I needed that.  I decided to go ahead and get the epidural. I looked up at the monitor, and the contractions that I thought were so bad weren't even halfway up on the intensity scale. I wouldn't be able to handle them raising the Pitocin intensity by itself.

Nick had to leave while the anesthesiologist came in and administered the epidural, and my back pain was so bad I didn't even care. It took a few minutes (with the same nurse by my side, holding my head and helping me to breathe), but soon the pain lessened, and I felt like someone had deflated me. I almost instantly fell asleep. They gave me oxygen to help the baby out. I did manage to snap this picture of Nick, who was finally able to get some sleep, too:

At 8:00, the doctor came in and did another internal exam, and unfortunately, had bad news. I was barely 3cm dilated. The only bonus of this is that I had been able to sleep, and I didn't feel anything. He said my contractions were still irregular, and they weren't progressing me. He said that baby's heartbeat hadn't gone down in rate, but it was a little weaker, and mine was, too. He suggested at that point that I should have a c-section. The chances of doing this the all-natural way were even slimmer now. If I had been at 7cm or so, then he would have considered waiting, but since I was barely 3, the length of time they would have to wait wouldn't be worth the risks that would come by now being at almost 30 hours after my water breaking.

At 8:30, he inserted an internal fetal monitor to get a better picture of how baby's heartbeat was doing, and the doctor had a hard time getting it to stick--because her head kept slipping out of my pelvis.  After reading the monitor for a little bit, he confirmed that her heartbeat was a little weaker, and again stressed the problems with infection that she might endure if we waited longer. He left the room so that Nick and I could decide, but he did leave us saying that it would basically be like waiting for a Hail Mary pass to come, and that he wouldn't advise it.

We both realized that it was just not going to happen--and I was so tired and worn out by this point, I just wanted to see my baby girl.  We called the doctor back in, and told him to go ahead and schedule us. I was basically wheeled off right away. This was about 9:00.

You don't see it in the picture, but I was highly emotional. The entire way into the OR, plus all through the prep for surgery, and even through the beginning of the surgery itself, I was crying.

Nick went to get scrubbed up, and waited in another room while I was being prepped for surgery.

The rest of the process was SO FAST.  Nick was only able to snap these 2 pictures of the doctor walking in to the surgery (at 9:37am),:

and my vitals monitor (at 9:40am):

Before they announced, "She is here! Time of birth: 9:41am" Nick stood up in time to catch this picture:

It was SO FAST! Kind of ridiculous. Of course, as soon as I heard them say she was here, I cried again. Nick went over to take pictures. I cried harder when I heard her cry. I was straining to hear what was going on, since I was behind the huge curtain and unable to see anything. I heard them say the cord was wrapped around her neck once (it was actually not wrapped, just draped around her neck one time), and they suctioned out her breathing. All of the nurses kept saying, "what a big baby!" over and over, and I'm thinking they've got a 12-pounder or something! But no, they said, "she's 8lbs, 15oz." Whew!

Nick brought her over to me, and I just cried and cried. I was so exhausted, emotionally and physically, and seeing her within my reach finally after such a long wait was just too much. She was wide awake and looking around--the only time she cried out was right after she was born.

So now we are a family of three!

There is a lot more to say, but that concludes this chapter of the birth story.

1:30am Update (from Nick)

At 6, Jim and I went to go get some dinner for Allison. since she was still drug-free, she was allowed to eat. Panera Bread Chicken Noodle soup it is! Jim's flight is scheduled to leave at 8am, and after some fruitless attempts to get a free flight change, he decides to go ahead and head back to Ohio. Although it is frustrating, it would be the same cost to change these flights than to just come back for another week some other time. We don't know at this time how long it will be before the baby gets here. So, after delivering dinner, Jim and I head out to get our own dinner, and then take Jim back to the house. He has a friend that will pick him up and take him to the airport in the morning. This picture is right before Jim said goodbye:

While we are gone, Allison calls at about 7:30pm with the news that the Doctor thinks she needs to start Ambien (sleepy medicine). He is hoping that the sleep will help to kick-start the contractions.

1:30am Update:

• 8:00pm - scheduled to get some sleepy medicine at 8:30pm
• 8:50pm - sleepy medicine is infused
• 8:53pm - asleep
• 12:00am - awakened by need to use evacuate bladder and from sleeping on a bed made for giving birth, not for sleeping. bed quite uncomfortable on lower back. (These are the only type of contractions she has had, in her lower back.)
• 1:30am - no contractual progress (ie, no contractions). following doctors orders to start pitocin drip. hopefully can sleep more before things kick into high gear.

At 1:30am, when the nurse came in to check her, the contractions were still not progressing on their own, and were very mild. They didn't do an internal exam, but because of the mild nature of the contractions, they didn't think she was very far along. They said they had wanted her to rest up before starting Pitocin. Although she is disappointed to have to do Pitocin (and a little scared), she also realizes that "the show needs to get on the road", and decides to go ahead with the Pitocin. She still doesn't want an epidural, though. In her words, "I am more afraid of the needle in my spine than of the pain of childbirth!"

Here we go...

Pics from Dad

Dad has been taking pics so far. Gotta love it.

Last pic before we left for the hospital:

Getting admitted. Fairly ridiculous that I took a wheelchair, since I walked up 2 flights of stairs from the  parking lot.

My labor room. Thankful for a large space and privacy!

Checking her out on the monitor:

Keeping everyone updated:

And, of course, documenting:

I was watching TV--not sure what's up with my expression--but being monitored:

6:45pm Update

So, if you did the math, you'll realize that I waited almost 12 hours after my water broke before going to the hospital.  In fact, if it were up to me, I would still be at home. I didn't think it would go over well to skip my Doctor's appointment, though, so I called him to see what he wanted me to do.

I KNEW he would have me come to the hospital. I didn't want to be sitting here with nothing to do, when I could be relaxing and doing things at home.

But, I kept getting the "why aren't you going to the hospital?" question, so I felt like maybe I should. I also figured I needed to get her heartrate monitored, so if she was in some distress, I would be at the hospital.

I am glad that I waited as long as I did.  I really don't feel like she is ready to come yet. So I am slightly frustrated that I am sitting here.  As it is, she is totally fine, and I have minimal contractions.

Only 10% of births start with the water breaking. Oh, I am so glad to be one of those 10% (ha--no).

I am thankful that the hospital is doing their best to follow my wishes. The Dr. is perfectly happy to let things progress as naturally as possible. I am sure if I get to tomorrow morning and there is no progression we will have to discuss Pitocin.  They aren't doing cervical checks (they only did one when I first got here) so I don't need to worry about infections. I'm not being continuously monitored until I start to feel pressure.

It goes back to my previous blog post where I said I know I will need to make some decisions that weren't in my initial plan. I have to be flexible, and be okay with it.

5:45pm Update

In the morning, I started texting a few people to let them know that the progress had started.

I had a Doctor's appointment at 2pm, and I needed to call them to find out if they wanted me to come in, or wait.

Unfortunately, like I suspected, they wanted me to get to the hospital "to be safe".

So, now I am at the hospital. We got all checked in, they took my blood pressure and temperature, and measured me. I am at 1cm. A-woo-hoo.

They hooked me up to a fetal heart monitor a few times, and checked for contractions, but not much is happening, other than me leaking through everything in sight.

They're willing to go at least 36 hours without starting Pitocin, so I'm going to take as much of that time as possible. I really do want to go as naturally as I can, and I just don't think she's ready yet.  Because her heartbeat and everything are really strong still, I feel comfortable waiting it out.

Now I'm just making myself as comfortable as possible.  My back aches are getting stronger, so I'm trying to stay upright and move around as much as I can to help ease them.