My blood pressure continued to rise, even with bed rest. I was living among an apartment full of boxes, my nesting instinct was totally unsatisfied. I wanted a beautiful home for my baby. They decided to induce labor and go ahead and get John Campbell out before my health deteriorated. So, we checked into the hospital and they started giving me poticin to get my labor going. But, they also started giving me magnesium sulfate for my blood pressure. It gives you symptoms similar to the flu, but it didn't bother me too bad.
Now, here is something funny. Poticin and labor raises your blood pressure, and magnesium sulfate lowers your bloodpressure, and slows your labor. So, now the nurses are raising my doses of both meds and I'm starting to feel worse and worse. But, once again, my wonderful baby boy is doing fine. He seems to take it all in stride. Everytime a nurse comes near me, they hook another monitor on me, or rather, up in there. Not comfortable. Also, I have a cathater now because of the meds. This does not remind me of the birth shows on TV at all...what's going on?
My contractions are not too severe and I need no pain medication. My sister and brother in law are there. Abbie hs the video camera out and we are all making small talk. I'm nervous. The baby is fine. I start to feel nauseated and tell Abbie this. He turns green and runs out for ice. I turn my head and spit up twice, immediately feeling better. After that, I have three pretty good contractions. Each time the baby's heart rate goes lower and doesn't bounce back all the way. After the third contraction, his heart rate is in the 60s and not coming back.
Now the race begins. Nurses pull out their cell phones, all the nurses from the floor come running. They are all checking, prodding, turning knobs and now have my bed inverted where my head is on the floor and my feet are way up. They are trying to get the baby to move, thinking that he is on his cord and shutting off the blood supply. He doesn't move and his heart rate doesn't come up. I am being tossed around in the bed, more people come running in. My sister and BIL are ushered out and Abbie looks horrible. I start to freak.
The anesthesioligist comes in and starts barking orders. They take all my wires out of the wall, and my IV, and throw them on top of me. I look at Abbie, who is crying, and I start to cry. As the tears form in my eyes, I realize that this baby may die. I get myself together and get very still, very calm. I have to be strong and hold on so they can get the baby out. I am now being ran down the hall to emergency surgery. This part is just like a show, but not one I'd ever want to be on. Like in E.R. when they are having a crisis...I'm bumping into walls and people are shouting. The Anesth. seems really pissed off. They are running and I see the lights passing over my head.
We get into surgery and they are tossing me around again. People are running around, getting supplies ready, trying to prep me for the surgery. I never had an epidural, so I am going under general anesthesia. I'm too worried to even be scared about that, but I've never had surgery before. Dr. McMichens comes running in and he is getting dressed in his scrubs as he enters. Everything looks like organized chaos. The anesthesioligist looks at him and barks, "We need to talk!". I want to ask what that means, but I am going under. I try to pray out loud now, and all I can get out is, "God, God, God".
I am told that I did talk to Abbie and Dr. McMichens in the recovery room. I ask them both about the baby - is he alive? But I have no memory of this. I do remember the nurse coming in and pushing on my stomach to make my uterus collapse. I sat straight up and screamed when she did it. That is how I remember waking up. I ask about my baby. She startes to push on my stomach again, I moan and beg her to stop. I go back to sleep.
I wake up in a recovery room on the maternity floor. Disoriented and feeling like I am in a bad dream. Abbie is there and tells me that the baby is alive, in the NICU, and that it was rough for him. Abbie has seen the baby, but hasn't been able to hold him. He was born not breathing, very blue, and in shock. They scored him a 1 and a 2 on the APGAR, not very good. He almost smothered to death in my womb. We are told he will be in the NICU a minimum of 2 weeks, probably more.
I am trying to recover. I am totally in a dream world now. PPD is already here, brought on by the depression that started after my father died. I start to walk a little and I get to go see the baby in the NICU. I am so freaked out - so many sick babies. So small, some of them don't even look human. And there is my precious little one. I'm crying as I type this, the memory is so real, even now. He is under an oxy-hood to help him breathe. He is hooked up to monitors and has an IV in his hand and in his foot. He has tubes all over. There is one foot that isn't covered in tape and tubes. I touch it. I have an overwhelming urge to grab him and run like hell, to get him out of there and keep him safe. I can't hold him, and even touching him seems to agitate him and his breathing falls off, so we make is short. The situation is surreal.
Now, here is something funny. Poticin and labor raises your blood pressure, and magnesium sulfate lowers your bloodpressure, and slows your labor. So, now the nurses are raising my doses of both meds and I'm starting to feel worse and worse. But, once again, my wonderful baby boy is doing fine. He seems to take it all in stride. Everytime a nurse comes near me, they hook another monitor on me, or rather, up in there. Not comfortable. Also, I have a cathater now because of the meds. This does not remind me of the birth shows on TV at all...what's going on?
My contractions are not too severe and I need no pain medication. My sister and brother in law are there. Abbie hs the video camera out and we are all making small talk. I'm nervous. The baby is fine. I start to feel nauseated and tell Abbie this. He turns green and runs out for ice. I turn my head and spit up twice, immediately feeling better. After that, I have three pretty good contractions. Each time the baby's heart rate goes lower and doesn't bounce back all the way. After the third contraction, his heart rate is in the 60s and not coming back.
Now the race begins. Nurses pull out their cell phones, all the nurses from the floor come running. They are all checking, prodding, turning knobs and now have my bed inverted where my head is on the floor and my feet are way up. They are trying to get the baby to move, thinking that he is on his cord and shutting off the blood supply. He doesn't move and his heart rate doesn't come up. I am being tossed around in the bed, more people come running in. My sister and BIL are ushered out and Abbie looks horrible. I start to freak.
The anesthesioligist comes in and starts barking orders. They take all my wires out of the wall, and my IV, and throw them on top of me. I look at Abbie, who is crying, and I start to cry. As the tears form in my eyes, I realize that this baby may die. I get myself together and get very still, very calm. I have to be strong and hold on so they can get the baby out. I am now being ran down the hall to emergency surgery. This part is just like a show, but not one I'd ever want to be on. Like in E.R. when they are having a crisis...I'm bumping into walls and people are shouting. The Anesth. seems really pissed off. They are running and I see the lights passing over my head.
We get into surgery and they are tossing me around again. People are running around, getting supplies ready, trying to prep me for the surgery. I never had an epidural, so I am going under general anesthesia. I'm too worried to even be scared about that, but I've never had surgery before. Dr. McMichens comes running in and he is getting dressed in his scrubs as he enters. Everything looks like organized chaos. The anesthesioligist looks at him and barks, "We need to talk!". I want to ask what that means, but I am going under. I try to pray out loud now, and all I can get out is, "God, God, God".
I am told that I did talk to Abbie and Dr. McMichens in the recovery room. I ask them both about the baby - is he alive? But I have no memory of this. I do remember the nurse coming in and pushing on my stomach to make my uterus collapse. I sat straight up and screamed when she did it. That is how I remember waking up. I ask about my baby. She startes to push on my stomach again, I moan and beg her to stop. I go back to sleep.
I wake up in a recovery room on the maternity floor. Disoriented and feeling like I am in a bad dream. Abbie is there and tells me that the baby is alive, in the NICU, and that it was rough for him. Abbie has seen the baby, but hasn't been able to hold him. He was born not breathing, very blue, and in shock. They scored him a 1 and a 2 on the APGAR, not very good. He almost smothered to death in my womb. We are told he will be in the NICU a minimum of 2 weeks, probably more.
I am trying to recover. I am totally in a dream world now. PPD is already here, brought on by the depression that started after my father died. I start to walk a little and I get to go see the baby in the NICU. I am so freaked out - so many sick babies. So small, some of them don't even look human. And there is my precious little one. I'm crying as I type this, the memory is so real, even now. He is under an oxy-hood to help him breathe. He is hooked up to monitors and has an IV in his hand and in his foot. He has tubes all over. There is one foot that isn't covered in tape and tubes. I touch it. I have an overwhelming urge to grab him and run like hell, to get him out of there and keep him safe. I can't hold him, and even touching him seems to agitate him and his breathing falls off, so we make is short. The situation is surreal.
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