And then a miracle happened. I got pregnant. I so completely believed that this was an impossibility that I thought away all of the early signs. I realized the truth when I was just shy of 11 weeks along with Ephram. I will never forget the day I took a pregnancy test, and that plus sign popped up in seconds. The moment that I saw my baby on the ultrasound monitor was magic, and that feeling has never left me. But I was panicked. I was afraid that my chronic hypertension would harm the baby. That I would develop preeclampsia, and he would need to come early. I carefully researched the hospitals around me and chose the one closest that appeared to have the best NICU. But then another miracle happened. My hypertension was dormant during the pregnancy. I even went off all medications while I was pregnant. Ephram was born a term baby, and the only complication of the pregnancy was that he was breech and I needed a c-section.
So, when the time came that I could get pregnant again, Andy and I decided to test out my body. I hoped I would be able to repeat it. I wanted a chance to be pregnant again without all of the worry. To enjoy feeling my baby grow and to have a 'normal' pregnancy. We were pregnant in three cycles. We were both very happy. The kids were too, and Charlie was especially ecstatic.
This pregnancy was different from the start. First of all, I knew that I was pregnant before I even hit four weeks. How? Because I was sick before then. And I was sick a lot. Every day for the first four months I was sick at least 5 times, sometimes 10. And when that disappeared I had some horrible acid reflux, back pain and restless leg syndrome. But, I was still thrilled to be pregnant. And I was very relaxed and trying to revel in the experience. I waited impatiently to feel her move, and then I smiled every day as I felt her wriggle around in there. Sure I was sick, but my body proved it could get pregnant again... and I was having a girl! For the first 27 weeks, everything looked great.
And then at my 28 week appointment, my doctor noticed my blood pressure was starting to elevate. During this pregnancy I remained on my pre-existing medications, and they worked to control things until about 28 weeks. My doctor also said that I looked a little bloated around my face and my feet. She ordered pre-eclampsia tests, called PIH labs, to make sure I was okay. So far I was. But she asked me to start taking it easy, to be aware of how I was feeling, and she increased the frequency of my prenatal appointments.
Still, I wasn't worried. I figured it was just the stress of the moment that had driven my blood pressure up. But I did start to take it easier just in case. Andy had a trip to Taipei during week 30. I was worried about being with the kids alone for a full week, so we hired a nanny part time for the week to help out. I had a routine OB appointment that Wednesday. When I went in my blood pressure was through the roof. They sent me straight to the maternity triage at the hospital for monitoring. My kids were with a nanny that was supposed to leave in an hour. My husband was in Taipei. Thank heaven for good friends that went over to my house to watch Charlie and Ephram. I was in the hospital for almost eight hours that day. My blood pressure never dropped significantly while I was there. They called in Maternal Fetal Medicine, and a perinatologist talked to me about preeclampsia and how they were going to manage it. I was put on two new blood pressure medicines. And I was told to go on bed rest at home.
Andy came home from Taipei to help. I can't imagine what it was like for him to be half a world away when I had to tell him that I was in the hospital. But he is such an amazing husband that he did exactly what I needed.
I thought that when he came home my blood pressure would regulate. Besides elevated blood pressure, the only sign of preeclampsia that I had at the time was low platelets. Normal people have at least 150k and I had 144.
I took it easy. (As much as you can with a barely two year old and a six year old autistic child.) I cut back on everything that I could. I stopped working, I cut back on my piano lessons. I took help when it was offered. I asked for help where I needed it. (Which was harder to do than I imagined.) I stayed down as much as I could throughout the day. And my numbers improved during the first week.
And then they started to skyrocket again. My perinatologist ordered a test to check my protein levels, and I received an official diagnosis of mild preeclampsia. And my platelets dropped to 105. They changed the dosage of my medications a couple of times to try to control it, but it wasn't working.
At week 32 I had an appointment with my perinatologist. My baby was not passing her non-stress test. And had barely passed the one earlier in the week. My blood pressure was not dropping. So after the biophysical profile (an ultrasound test) the perinatologist asked me to come back the next day. She told me to prepare for a hospital stay. And to bring a bag.
I was oddly at peace that night. I knew what was happening. The doctor had told me that I would likely be admitted until the baby came. I was 32 weeks pregnant. They would deliver me at 37 weeks at the latest. That meant I could be there for 5 weeks of bedrest. I was terrified to be in the hospital, alone and bored, for five full weeks. But at least I knew what to expect. I contacted all the people that I needed to that night. I packed a bag. And went to the appointment the next day.
I had an epiphany that night. I was suddenly so grateful for the research that I'd done when I was pregnant with Ephram. I might not have needed the NICU for him, but I would probably need it for my girl. I realized that all of my kids came to me the way that they did for a reason. If we'd been able to get pregnant in the beginning, we wouldn't have chosen adoption when we did. That happened so that we could learn patience, yes. But also so that Charlie would join our family. If I'd had the complications with Ephram, I wouldn't have chosen to get pregnant again. Ephram's pregnancy was as it was so that I would have faith, yes. But also so that I would chose to repeat the pregnancy and have a daughter. This experience has also given me many lessons, but I can't quite verbalize them yet.
I was admitted to the maternity ward at 4pm that Friday afternoon. My husband and kids stayed with me until about 9pm. My blood pressure was so out of control that they needed to put me on magnesium to protect my body. The magnesium also brought my blood pressure down. I received my first steroid shot to help mature my daughter's lungs that night, and another the night following. The second night I was moved up to the antepartum ward for the remainder of my stay.
For the next two days my blood pressure was so beautifully low that they talked about releasing me back home to bed rest. And then the fluctuations started. I would be low in the morning and then skyrocket in the afternoon. They tried to help me by changing my medications. For awhile I didn't even know what I was taking, but I was swallowing pills all day and all night. My platelets rose for the first few days, but it was a false reading resulting from the steroid shots. They started to fall again back down close to 100.
During my OB's visit on Tuesday, she told me what they had all been conferencing about. (I was the big talk in her practice and Maternal Fetal Medicine at the time.) They were not going to release me back home. They were worried about my ability to tolerate the swings in pressures, and the amount and timing of the meds I was on was too much for me to manage at home. They were hoping to get me to 35 weeks of gestation.
I was scared to have a preemie, but 35 weeks sounded like it was pretty far along. I prepared myself for two more weeks in the hospital. I told Andy what the plan was. He took a leave from work the day I went into the hospital to take care of the boys. And he did an amazing job with what he calls "The Dad Show". He brought the boys in to see me most days, and two days during the week he came to see me by himself. I don't know what I would have done without those visits and without Skype. I am a person who hates being alone. And I love my family and my boys. Being without them was torture. Especially Ephram, who I'd never been away from before. Ephram got a little mad at me while I was gone and refused to say good night to me or give me hugs. I don't blame him. I would be mad if my mom disappeared too. But he did play with me in the hospital. I enjoyed changing his diaper and putting his pajamas on when they came to visit - it made me feel a little more normal. And I talked to Charlie about his day at school and what he was doing at home. He really stepped up while I was away and tried to be as helpful as he could.
Looking back at pictures, I don't know how I missed the bloating in my face. Between the two pictures above, the perinatologists had decided to put me on lasix. Lasix is a diuretic, and the thought was that my blood pressure might go down if I could drop the water weight. They hoped that I would lose 8 pounds in 3 days. I lost 7 pounds in 6 hours, and 11 pounds by day 2. I was definitely retaining water.
What got me through my hospital stay? Mostly my visits from home and friends. The nurses were all very nice, and I was so grateful for their conversation. I finished crocheting a blanket for my daughter. I played solitaire with actual cards to keep my hands busy. I finished three magazines. I used my iPad incessantly. I watched a lot of TV. Especially Friends. There is something about that show that makes me laugh, and laughing was what I needed. The boys brought me a stuffed bunny, and yes, I slept with it at night. It made me feel a little less lonely. Okay, a lot less lonely. I talked on the phone to two or three people a day, usually for at least a half an hour. And I slept as much as I could.
But my pressures were not improving. Nor were my platelets. On top of that I started to develop a nagging headache. The perinatologist and my OB came in to see me together on Wednesday. They told me that they were ordering me to stop eating and drinking at midnight so that I would be ready for a possible c-section on Thursday. They would look at all of my information in the morning and make a decision.
I panicked. I called Andy. We quickly called around to find care for the boys in case this happened. I called my Mom. I was 33 weeks pregnant that day. Andy came to the hospital as soon as he could after we got the news. When he walked in I was in the middle of a consult with a neonatologist. We learned what could possibly happen with our little girl. Andy received a tour of the NICU, but I wasn't allowed to go because of my pressures. When he left that night I grabbed on to him as hard as I could. I was really scared. 33 weeks was earlier than I wanted.
The next morning I was woken up to take my pills at 6:30. At 7 a phlebotomist came to draw my blood for PIH panels. At 8 I was wheeled to the ultrasound room to take a look at the baby. She was estimated to be 4lb 11oz, and looked healthy. At 9 I was allowed to eat breakfast. I took a huge sigh of relief. I called Andy and told him it was probably off. He was relieved too. My friend Candice stopped by for a visit, and I prepared myself to be in the hospital longer.
And then the headache of all headaches started. I started to feel nauseous. My pressures started to go up sooner than usual, and higher too. My lunch arrived at the same time my OB did that day. The nurse was in my room and I'd just asked for Tylenol. They left to consult in the hall. I picked up my sandwich and took a bite. My doctor came back in and told me to put the sandwich down. I was going to have a baby. As soon as they could get in the OR. It was 1:40pm.
The date was March 29th, my Aunt Debbie's birthday. My baby was due on May 16th.
I called Andy in tears as I told him it was back on. I asked the nurse if they could put the monitors on me so that I could hear my baby. I called my dad and asked him if he could buy the plane tickets for my mom after all. I talked to my little girl and told her that I loved her. I said a prayer. Or 50. The nurse was in and out of my room getting things ready. She also gave me IV tylenol for my headache, which I was so grateful for. Andy was running around at home trying to get in touch with people to watch the kids again. I watched Friends. I am so glad that show is on several times during the day. I tried not to panic. I tried to have faith in the medical team. I wanted to sleep but couldn't.
The nurse came in and said that it looked like I would be going into the OR at 7. I'd eaten half a bagel at 1, and they wanted to give it a chance to clear my stomach. Andy got there at 3:30. About a minute later the nurse came in and informed me that there'd been a change in plans. I would be going into surgery between 4 and 4:30. The anesthesiologist came to talk to me about the surgery, the spinal, and to ask how my last c-section went. I asked for the anti-nausea meds right then. I was already feeling nauseous and knew that the surgery would send me over the top. The neonatologist that was on staff came in to introduce himself. I don't remember what else he said.
I had prepared myself to be in the hospital until delivery. I had not yet prepared myself to deliver. I suddenly worried about the spinal. About being alone in the OR - because I wanted Andy to go with the baby to the NICU after she was born. I just then remembered all of the fun things that go along with delivery. (Yes, that's sarcastic.) At 33 weeks I hadn't really yet started to think about any of this. It hit me that I wasn't going to feel her moving inside of me anymore. I was scared for her and I was scared for me. I asked the nurses when I'd be able to see my baby. They told me that as soon as I could stand they would wheel me there, and that it would likely be about 6 hours. I gripped Andy's hand and tried to listen to him as he tried to calm me down. They started back up the magnesium again to protect my body from seizures post delivery. And then, thank heaven for the one positive thing about magnesium, I started to calm down.
We started the long wheel/walk to the OR at 4:35. And I knew that I was going to do it. I was going to have a baby. And I would get through it. And I would see my little girl. And Andy would stay with her. I knew I had the best doctors in the area. And a lot of them. They put on my hat, and opened the double doors to the OR. Andy scrubbed in and soon followed.
To be continued...
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