Sunday, September 9, 2012

The story of Adelyn (Part 3)

As I got settled in to my new room in the mother/baby unit, Nathan and I tried to relax and come down from the adrenaline of the long day we had just experienced. My first nurse had a pretty awful personality and we could tell right away that she was a slow-moving, lazy nurse, and it worried us that we might have an emergency overnight and she would fail to respond quickly and appropriately. We prayed, enjoyed food for the first time in many hours, and updated friends and family about what was happening.

The next few days were fairly uneventful--I had a detailed ultrasound by a specialist that showed our baby girl to be approximately 1lb 14oz. The thought of a baby less than 2lbs was daunting, and we made that our first goal--grow at least two more ounces! They told us that other than being on the small side for her gestation, everything looked perfect and the only issue was that there was no measurable fluid. I learned that fluid accumulates constantly, and that babies are constantly swallowing and peeing, so the fluid levels would be constantly changing, and I would be constantly leaking fluid--yuck. They told us we would get ultrasounds every three weeks to check growth and fluid levels. Twice each day I would be hooked up to monitors to check for contractions and watch baby's heart rate for any signs of distress. I became an expert at reading the monitor strips!

We met more doctors--our team of residents all made appearances over the first few days and at first we struggled to keep them straight because they were all pretty young brunettes. We gave them nicknames to keep them straight--Red Glasses, Touchy Feely (she always sat on the bed and patted my leg or hand when she stopped by), Dippity Doo (a term she used often to describe little drops in baby's heartrate on the monitor), and Dr. M whose name we somehow picked up on right away. There were also attending physicians who popped in here and there but had less contact with us--there were so many of them!

I found out that the mother/baby units had over 80 nurses, so meeting them all took a while, but I think I got most! Some of them weren't great, but several were amazing and so instrumental in helping us through those weeks.  Sweet Melissa was on orientation with another nice nurse, and was so kind and gentle and really took time to know us. Elizabeth went out of her way to return my tray with the wrong food all the way to the cafeteria so I could have what I wanted for dinner--even though it was almost the end of her shift and she was very busy! One Alyson told me her story of pProm and how her baby was a healthy kid--so encouraging to hear! Kathie kept us entertained all day with great stories and parenting wisdom, and encouraged us spiritually as well. Lois was so experienced and wise and made us feel like we were in very good hands--and she worked all the time, so if we ever had a question we could always ask her even if she wasn't my nurse that day. Sweet Anne was so gentle and got my IV started after another nurse couldn't, and also sat and held my hand while I cried out of fear one day. Allison made me laugh and provided a Do Not Disturb sign on a morning when I had not slept all night and was really tired of all the noises and interruptions. So many more of them contributed to my comfort and helped me through long, often lonely weeks, and I learned a lot about being a great nurse by being a patient.

I was allowed a shower each day, and one wheelchair ride, which at first I did not take advantage of often. Valentine's Day was an exception, when my sweet husband surprised me with dinner from Outback and we took a "romantic" roll down to eat in the cafeteria and then sit outside. I had visitors most days--my grandpa nearly every morning would come and read Scripture to me and pray with me, and Nathan's mom and grandma made an effort to come at least a couple of times each week. Many friends brought me good food, which was SO appreciated, as I learned quickly that the food from the cafeteria was mostly all terrible and often unidentifiable. Sometimes I was lucky to get silverware, condiments, or a drink on my tray--if it was all there I was amazed!

A couple of weeks in, I was very scared to find that I was bleeding a fairly good amount after a nice visit and pizza dinner with my family. I called my nurse, who immediately hooked me up to the monitor to keep an eye on baby, and one of the doctors came down to check my cervix. Everything looked okay, and I was told that after pProm, it is extremely common for the placenta to partially detach from the wall of the uterus and cause bleeding, and that as long as I wasn't in a huge pool of blood, most likely it wouldn't be a big emergency. It happened several times, and while I knew to expect it and not panic, it was always hard not to get antsy when it happened.

At 30 weeks, we had the next ultrasound--still no fluid around, but baby had grown to 2lbs, 10oz! A small victory, but we were so happy to hear good progress, and set our sights next on a whopping three pounds. We had taken a tour of the NICU during the first few days of my stay, and seen many babies born as early as 23 weeks and weighing even less than a pound, so we knew that we were incredibly blessed to have made it so far. The doctors and nurses kept telling me how surprised they were to come back from days off and find me still pregnant, and we started to believe that the goal of 34 weeks might really be possible!

Here's a shot of me at 30 weeks, 5 days, looking about as pregnant as ever:

Around that time, I had a scary day where during my monitoring session, our baby's heartrate took a big nosedive--from around 160 down to 60-70, and it was terrifying. The alarm went off on the machine, and a couple of nurses came running in to get me to flip on my side and try to re-position the monitor to make sure it hadn't just lost the right spot. Her heart rate picked back up, but it happened again a minute later, and I earned my first trip back to a room in labor and delivery where I was given extra fluids and checked for signs of labor. After a few hours of baby behaving herself and things looking stable, I got sent back "home" to my room.

At that point, we still had not settled on a name. We had written our choices on the white-board in my room, and every time a nurse, doctor, visitor, or other person came in, we would have them vote. We wanted to decide, but I knew until I saw her I couldn't be sure, so we kept counting votes and telling everyone we would let them know when we knew. The residents joked that whoever managed to be on call when I delivered would get to choose, and I think they began to feel a little competitive over who would be the one when the time came. We loved them all and had grown to trust and respect them immensely, so we knew it would be great no matter what.

My wonderful friend Steph decided that I needed maternity pictures, in spite of the circumstances. She came to me with everything needed for the occasion, and gave me a haircut and blow-dry, did my make-up, and clothed and accessorized me. We took my wheelchair ride, and maybe stretched the limits of what I was supposed to be doing while out riding JUST a tad, but we had a great time making everyone wonder what the heck we were doing with me laying in the grass in the hospital courtyard. I didn't look nearly as pregnant as most people do at that stage, partly because of lack of fluid taking up space in my belly. I had to work hard to arch my back and stick my bump out to try to make the pictures look like I was pregnant at all! It felt ridiculous, but I am so thankful for the great pictures we got to remember that time:


I joked that after being up and out of bed so much I would probably go into labor, but didn't really expect it to be true until I started feeling some mild contractions that night. Once again, I moved over to labor and delivery and got flooded with IV fluids, and while it took the whole night to get things under control, my cervix didn't dilate and baby stayed mostly stable, so I got to head back "home" in the morning. I will confess that at one point I was so hungry that I made Nathan break the rules and sneak me some spaghetti against his will. I never even liked spaghetti before that day, but have appreciated it so much more ever since!

Back in my room, week 31 started to get hard. I was crampy and uncomfortable most of the time, and feeling really burnt out and discouraged. I wasn't sleeping well, was tired of the food, tired of needing to ask so many people to do things for me, and feeling overwhelmed by it all. I started having more contractions--mostly painless, but I could tell that my body was gearing up for something. My doctors told me it was likely that things were "brewing", Towards the end of the week, I began running a temperature between 99.0-99.5. The doctors told me that wasn't really a fever and nothing they were concerned about, but I knew it was different than my baseline, and was getting anxious about infection. Tuesday brought the change in weeks--32 weeks pregnant! I was antsy. I couldn't sit still, wanted to clean and organize my room. I was tired of looking at the same scenery, and started moving things around. Nathan kept telling me to get back in bed, but I told him I couldn't take it anymore and I had to "nest".

My residents informed me that Wednesday they would all be gone on a team-building retreat, and none of them would be back until close to midnight. They instructed me to behave and not to let anything happen without them, and I told them I'd do my best. I went to bed Tuesday night, but found myself too uncomfortable to sleep. By morning, I was in pain, exhausted, and irritated by all the noises outside my room. One of my favorite nurses, Allison, stopped by before she got off work, and put the sign on my door to keep anyone from bothering me so I could get a little more rest, and then made me promise to hang in there until she worked next over the weekend. I promised to try.

With the help of some pain medicine and that sign, I fell asleep for a couple of hours, but woke up feeling much worse and having some more intense contractions. I knew things were about to get serious. I took a long shower, shaved my legs, and then got back in bed and finally called Nathan to call out of work and head to the hospital, and my nurse to tell her I was feeling contractions and needed the monitor. She hooked me up, and within minutes the contractions were showing up prominently, and baby took a big dip in heart rate. The alarm went off long enough for my heart to feel like it had stopped forever, but finally quieted as the nurses ran in and started getting things moving. I got IV fluids running wide open, and while my nurse called the doctor and L&D to let them know I would be coming, sweet nurse Anne came and held me while I cried. Once I started, I had a lot of pent-up fear to let out, so for the few remaining minutes before getting wheeled down the hallway, she prayed with me and shed a few tears by my side, and then wished me well as I headed for my final trip to a delivery room.

To be continued...


Jump to:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 4

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