Because all of my residents were away on their retreat, the attending physician, Dr. M, came with a family medicine resident who had likely spent little time in labor and delivery. She checked my cervix so slowly and painfully, and apparently had never learned to wait during contractions so as not to cause additional pain. She seemed to have no idea what she was doing, but finally pronounced my cervix closed, and I was told that I was not in true labor. Both doctors, as well as the nurse caring for me, seemed unimpressed by my pain, and Dr. M gave me a speech about how as long as I was "just contracting", baby could hold out and we were going to continue to aim for 34 weeks.
As the doctors left, I cried and told Nathan I couldn't do it...that there was just no way I could go back to my room and wait two more weeks in this unbearable pain. The nurse told me I could have pain medicine, and I quickly agreed to take anything available. She gave me Fentanyl, a very strong narcotic that I had never had before, and it quickly made me feel extremely dizzy and nauseous and uncomfortable, while barely reducing my pain. I had rated my pain a 10/10 before the medicine, and after about five minutes, gave it a 9/10, hoping that there was more relief to come. Unfortunately, that's about as good as it got, and within a few more minutes seemed to have ceased to help at all. I was told I could have more after an hour, and tried one more dose before deciding that it was not nearly worth the additional discomfort for such a minuscule reduction in pain.
A few hours went by, and again my cervix was checked for progress, and found to have made none. Nathan and I both attempted to plead with the doctors and explain that I am not usually a hysterical person, but again Dr. M told me that he only wanted what was best for my baby, as if we were not even more concerned with the very same. Finally, the shift ended and our unconcerned nurse was replaced by one who immediately seemed much kinder and more personable, as well as sympathetic to my misery. She asked if blood work had been done yet, and got an order to send some.
I never thought I would be so excited to hear the words "your white count is 14,000." That meant that infection had set in sneakily, not causing the high fever or uterine tenderness that I had been told to watch for, but rather had sent me horrific contractions. Finally, Dr. M had to re-think his plan to make me wait to deliver. He came back to talk with us, and put his hand on my abdomen, pronouncing "oh, you really ARE contracting..." as if my tears and gripping the bed rails had not been evidence enough. Still hesitantly, he said that it seemed we would have to go ahead and do a c-section after all.
At that point, things finally began to move quickly. Nathan stepped out to call our parents, while my nurse apologetically explained that putting in my catheter now before waiting until I was numb in the OR would help things go faster. I agreed, and barely noticed the sting as she expertly did what she had to do. We were all set to roll and had just unlocked the wheels to my bed when a call for the doctor to come quickly next door for an emergency was made. I'd like to say that I stopped and prayed for a safe delivery for that mom and her baby, but truthfully I think that I prayed instead that they would hurry before too many more contractions had to happen.
Just a few minutes later, that baby thankfully was safely out, and we were back on track. Nathan was escorted to get washed up and put on scrubs, while I was taken in to the OR and greeted by the anesthesiologist and his student. I told them to please hurry, and they explained the procedure for spinal anesthesia, then helped me sit on the edge of the bed while they got ready. They stopped to comment on my scoliosis, and then the anesthesiologist gave instructions to the student for what sounded like his very first time ever inserting a needle into someone's spine--yikes. I worried only briefly that I would be paralyzed by a mistake, but soon felt the quick pinch of the needle and pressure as they got it in place.
Numbness spread quickly, first down one side of my body and then the other, and brought sweet relief. I told them both that they were my new best friends, and they laughed and helped me get positioned on the bed and ready for action. I heard the nurses asking Dr. M who he wanted to assist him since the residents weren't available, and he asked for a nurse who they told him was not there that night, so he decided to go ahead on his own. Nathan came in then, followed by a nurse who said "Katie is here and said to wait--she wants to scrub in!"
"Thank God!" was my response, as Katie was one of my wonderful residents--the one with the red glasses. The other staff members laughed a little, and Dr. M mumbled "gee thanks" since I obviously didn't appreciate his many years of experience, but I didn't care--I was just so glad to know that someone I knew and trusted would be there.
She came in after a minute, and I told her I was so glad to see her, and then settled in with oxygen running and finally a slight sense of nervous anticipation over what was about to happen. Nathan took his place beside me and the doctors got started. I felt some pressure with the incision, and then more tugging and pulling. After a minute, we began to hear the two doctors discussing what they were seeing as being strange and unusual, and saying "that explains a lot"...which made us wonder what in the world was happening. They told me that my uterus was essentially divided in half and extending only up and to the right, trapping baby girl in the position she had been in for weeks and causing my body to run out of room for her to grow. They told me it was going to take a little work to get her out, and I felt a lot of discomfort as they pushed and pulled.
At one point, Red Glasses seemed to be attempting to do a handstand on my liver, but suddenly I felt a big release of pressure and heard "Here she comes! She's peeing!" and someone telling Nathan to stand up and look. I held my breath and felt tears coming to my eyes as I waited to hear something, and finally heard the sweetest little cry I could imagine. I asked Nathan "Is she okay? Is she tiny??" as he sat back down with tears in his eyes, and he smiled and said "No, she's big! She's perfect." I breathed a big sigh of relief as he followed up his first comments with a wide-eyed "I saw your guts", making the anesthesiologists and me laugh a little.
The team from the NICU had been waiting in the wings to whisk baby girl away for immediate care, and Nathan was told to go with her. I don't remember a lot of the immediate details from the rest of the surgery because once that relief set in, I was pretty dazed and wiped out by the adrenaline from it all. They finished closing me up and sent me with my sweet nurse from L&D to a recovery room, where Nathan came after a few minutes to update me. He showed me pictures of our beautiful girl--bright red all over and perfectly beautiful, and then asked me which name I thought was best. I told him without seeing her in person, I couldn't be sure, but he told me he knew which one he wanted--Adelyn Piper. Since that had been my favorite choice all along, I gladly agreed and was happy to hear that our sweet girl was doing okay so far and even breathing a little on her own.
Here's her first picture before they got her hooked up to lots of machines:
Eventually, the doctors each came to check in on me. First, Red Glasses came and smiled as I thanked her profusely for showing up just in time. She told us that she had been out at dinner with everyone on the retreat, and something had pushed her to leave early and get back to the hospital about two hours before planned. I knew that something was God providing a bright spot for me in the midst of all the chaos, and silently thanked Him too for that blessing. She then went on to explain a bit of what they had been discussing during my surgery about my uterus, and told me that Dr. M would tell me more.
He came in next, and didn't waste time before apologizing for how he had made me feel earlier in the day. He promised the he had only intended to do what was best for Adelyn, but told me that had we not operated when we did, he felt sure that my uterus would have ruptured. He explained that I had a division coming down from the top of my uterus, separating it into essentially two halves. Adelyn had implanted on one side and only that right side had been able to stretch and grow, and had caused her to run out of room prematurely and likely cause my water to break at that point. He said that the top of my uterus was stretched so thinly that it wouldn't have taken many more contractions to rupture it, so that it was very good we got her out when we did.
This picture shows an idea of what my uterus would look like not-pregnant.
After recovery, I was moved back to my old "home" where my mom, sister, brother-in-law, and Nathan's mom and grandma were waiting. It was around midnight and they all looked tired, but welcomed me back and listened to my recap of our crazy day. I had warned them in advance that until I had gotten a chance to see Adelyn for myself, I didn't want anyone else to get to meet her first, and they understood. They each congratulated me and headed home to sleep, promising to come back soon to meet her once I had gotten the chance.
I could hardly stand the wait to see her, and kept asking my nurse when I could go. I had started being able to wiggle my toes during recovery, but still had a few hours before regaining control of my legs and being allowed up into a wheelchair. My incision was still nice and numb, so while I was weak and off balance, they carefully got me set in my chair and helped me down the hallway to the NICU.
I felt like a kid on Christmas morning, and kept looking at each baby we passed until we finally got to the far corner and stopped in front of an isolette. I had no words as I saw her for the first time--nothing like I had imagined or expected--just a perfect little girl who was strangely unfamiliar to me. I silently took her in while her nurse explained the different things I was seeing--a "bubble CPAP" machine was covering her face, and while she was breathing on her own, it was helping keep her lungs inflated so that she wouldn't get too tired and get into distress later. She had an IV with a lot of tape around her arm that was giving her fluids and antibiotics due to the infection that had been in my uterus, and also a small tube in her mouth that would later be used for feeding.
I knew to expect all of those things, and while I wished I could better see her little face, I was thrilled just to be allowed to rest my fingers lightly on her belly and feel her soft skin, knowing she was really here, and really mine. They told us she was 3lbs 9oz, 16 inches long, and had come out with Apgar scores of 8 and 9--great scores even for a full-term baby! We got to stay with her for a little while before heading back to my room to finally unwind and get some rest.
I began working on pumping breastmilk for her right away, and spent Thursday getting my catheter out and working hard on peeing normally, as well as feeling pain begin to settle in as the anesthesia wore off gradually. Moving even slightly was very difficult and painful, but I knew I had to bounce back quickly in order to start caring for Adelyn. I was allowed to hold her for the first time that evening, and spent a few glorious minutes soaking in the feeling of having her in my arms and feeling her move on the outside of my body--such a strange thing to take in.
Over the next few days, she continued to do great and was upgraded from the CPAP machine to regular oxygen in her nose. We were frequently told by her nurses that she was "feisty", which we thought sounded like a good trait in a preemie. Normal weight loss took her down to right around 3lbs at her lowest, and jaundice set in and caused her to need to be under lights and limited how often we could hold her, but we still got some quick snuggles here and there.
The Sunday after she was born, after 40 days in the hospital, I finally got to go home. It was bittersweet leaving with empty arms, and waiting for the car next to another new mom with her baby in her arms, but I was just so thankful to be going home and knowing my girl was healthy and well. I was sore and exhausted, but never more excited to ride in a car or walk through Target than I was that day.
For five more weeks, Adelyn stayed in the NICU working on breathing, growing, staying warm, and feeding. She slowly gained weight and moved to less restrictive cribs, got rid of all oxygen support for a little while before needing it back, and learned to breastfeed like a champ. I drove to her every day to try to spend as many hours as I could at her side and get to feed her as many times as possible, while Nathan did his best to visit after work and on weekends whenever he could. We called each night to talk to her nurse before we'd go to bed, to check and make sure everything was going well and hear how much she had weighed that night.
As time went on, we were told that it wasn't really normal for babies born at 32 weeks to need oxygen like she did, but since there was no obvious reason for why she couldn't function well without it, the doctors expected her to get rid of it any day. After hearing this for many days, but knowing everything else that she needed to do to be ready to go home had happened, I finally told her doctors that I wanted to bring her home with the oxygen and monitor. They arranged for us to spend one night in a room near the NICU so that we could practice caring for her on our own while still having support close by. We survived the night and were finally allowed to bring our sweet girl home!
After 10 more weeks on oxygen, Adelyn finally kicked the habit and never looked back. We were so happy to turn in the equipment and finally have a chance to experience "normal" parenting. We still had a rough several months ahead of colic, fussiness, and many nights of not sleeping at all. Thankfully, Adelyn was so cute that we were able to love her in spite of what a hard baby she was!
18 months later, she's perfectly healthy and has no issues related to prematurity. She is small for her age, but on the growth charts and meeting all of her milestones on time or even early! She has transitioned from a fussy, sleepless baby into a very well behaved toddler who delights us constantly with her sweet, funny personality. We can't even begin to thank God enough for His goodness to us in bringing us through such an ordeal with such grace.
After one more miscarriage in the fall of last year, I finally planned surgery to correct my silly-shaped uterus, and successfully conceived just one month later. I am so thankful for every ache and pain of this pregnancy (in spite of how I often complain about it), because I know that every day I am pregnant is a gift and a blessing. I can't wait to bring you all a hopefully much more peaceful and uncomplicated birth story in about 10-12 weeks!
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