The story of Eleanora- The birth: part 2

May 18th, 2015 part 4- One of the doctors asked Jared if he wanted to cut the umbilical cord, but he wasn't interested. Then someone asked my mom if she wanted to and she did. I asked (I think one of the neonatal nurse practitioners?) if we could stick to any of my other "birth plan" requests- no eye ointment, skin-to-skin immediately, don't wash the vernix off, etc. She looked at me and said something that assured me that I needed to just let go of everything else and let the doctors do whatever they needed to. I feel really silly about it now because my brain somehow went from, "she didn't survive" to "I hope they don't put that goop in her eyes".

As soon as the cord was cut, they quickly took Eleanora to a different part of the room. I wasn't sure what her condition was or what they were doing to her. Somewhere in the quick moments between her coming out and them taking her away, the OBGYN from the other hospital who was supposed to deliver Eleanora arrived. She said that she had gotten stuck in traffic. I honestly don't know if she could have gotten there on time anyway. I think I only pushed 5 times before she was born. I was later told that my entire labor was only 1 hour and 45 minutes long, including the placental removal. Which brings me to my next horrible point.    

-The placenta from hell-

Aside from being sick with worry about Eleanora, the absolute worst part of my labor/delivery experience was the placental removal. Up until this point, I had thought to myself, "what is all the fuss about having a baby?!" Don't get me wrong, it isn't ENJOYABLE. But there is soooo much hype about how painful it is, and while it hurt, I honestly didn't think it was that bad. My sister, in an attempt to prepare me ahead of time, had said, "You will get to a point where you will think, 'either I'm going to die or this baby is going to come out of me'" And I never got to that point. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was because of Eleanora's small size. Maybe it was God sparing me from more pain. Maybe I have a crazy high pain threshold.

Graphic warning: The OBGYN who had delivered Eleanora began pressing on my stomach and pulling gently on the umbilical cord to try to maneuver the placenta out. After a few seconds, I heard her tell the other OBGYN (who had missed the birth) that the umbilical cord was so thin, it had come detached from the placenta. I noticed them exchange a pained expression. OB #2 told me that unfortunately she would have to try to manually remove my placenta immediately or I would end up having to go into surgery. 

Keep in mind, I had been given ZERO pain medication.   

Worst possible graphic warning: OB #2 then proceeded to reach her entire arm into my uterus in an attempt to remove my placenta. What she found was that it had broken apart into several pieces inside of me. For the next approximately 10 minutes, she repeatedly pulled pieces out and reached back in for more. She kept saying "I almost have it all. This will be the last time." and then she would apologize and say that she lied and had to do it again. It was so painful, I almost blacked out. I had to keep asking her to stop so that I could catch my breath and prepare myself for more. Surprisingly (and thankfully), I didn't tear or require a single stitch- even after this barbaric episode.  I literally had flashbacks and bad dreams about this traumatic experience for weeks afterwards. 

When the OB had decided that she had gotten all of the pieces of placenta out, they were examining it to make sure it was all there. My mom was amazed at how unhealthy it looked. She had attended the birth of my older sister's son a few months earlier and had the opportunity to examine a healthy placenta, which she kept saying looked like a "tree of life" with many veins spreading out from the umbilical cord. In comparison, mine was small, shriveled, brownish/black, and had one or two tiny little crooked veins. I feel so sad when I think about that yucky garbage being where my baby was getting her nutrition (or lack thereof) from!

Both of the OBs and many other medical professionals have explained to me over and over again that there was nothing I did wrong to have such a sick placenta- one that basically caused my baby to be starving inside of me. Although I still don't completely understand it all, I have been told that the destiny of my placenta was determined at implantation. I was also told that pre-eclampsia and intrauterine growth restriction often occur together and make one another more severe. I am thankful for this information because I inevitably have felt guilty about everything Eleanora had to go through and I know that my guilt would just be amplified if I hadn't been given this information.

-End of placenta drama-

Jared started out holding my hand through that whole nightmare, but somewhere in the middle I asked him if he would go be with Eleanora. I think he was relieved to be given permission to escape that whole mess.

Somewhere in the middle of all of that, I heard that Eleanora’s Apgar score was a 7 out of 10. For the first time, I knew that she was going to be okay. After 5 minutes, they increased her score to an 8. 

The doctor that had been working on her held her up in the air and said from across the room, “Look, Mom!” Because I didn’t have my glasses or contacts still, I couldn’t see her at all. I said, “I can’t see her.”, but everyone in the room had turned to look and was saying, “Awwww!”, so no one heard me. I desperately wanted to see her, so I yelled out, “I CAN’T SEE HER!” and my mom grabbed my glasses for me. She looked so tiny and frail, but she was my girl. The doctor said, “I wouldn’t be holding her up like this if I didn’t think she was doing so great!” and I felt a little better.

After they were done cleaning her up, hooking her up to whatever monitors/machines were necessary, and swaddling her in blankets, they plopped her onto my chest for a few seconds. To be honest, I don’t really remember that moment with a lot of significance.

Jared also got the opportunity to hold her for a moment before they whisked her downstairs to the neonatal intensive care unit. 

Eleanora was born at 9:59am on May 6^th, 2015 at 34 weeks + 5 days gestation. She should have weighed 5 pounds, but because of her intrauterine growth restriction, she was the size of a baby born at 32 weeks. She weighed 3 pounds 7.7 ounces and was 16.5 inches long. I remember looking at her tiny little arms and thinking “they are barely bigger than my thumbs”. All of the doctors and nurses were surprised when she came out with blonde hair, but Jared had blonde hair as a little boy, and several of my siblings had blonde hair as children also.

We were told that we would be able to go down to the NICU to see her in a few hours, but until then she would be busy having tests done. I finally was able to eat real food for the first time in over 24 hours. All three of us were exhausted and relieved to get a chance to nap during that time. When we woke up, I was antsy to go see her. Even though I was still on the Magnesium Sulfate, I got permission to be wheeled down to the NICU with my IVs in tow. Amanda helped Mom, Jared, and I find Eleanora's room.  

Here is the proof that I looked as "doped up" and exhausted as I felt!

She had her own private room and was lying in an open, shallow tray called an “infant warmer”. She was naked with the exception of the tiniest diaper ever and had a radiant heat lamp shining on her. There was an IV in her arm, several monitors hooked onto her chest, and a nasal cannula in her nose to provide extra airflow to keep her lungs open. We were so thankful to God that she could breathe on her own from the very beginning! This is a hurdle that many preemies struggle to overcome. It was really scary and surreal for me to see her that first time- all covered in wires with tons and beeps and alarms going off (none of which I understood at that time).

I could only gently rest my hand on the top of her head or the bottoms of her feet. Her NICU nurse explained to us that her skin was so delicate that it would bother her if we stroked her at all. I was sad to not be able to hold her. I learned later that the new babies are put into that shallow tray with the open top so that if there is an emergency, the doctors and nurses have quick, easy access to them.

I didn’t get much sleep again that night because I was still hooked up to everything from the night before (with the exception of the fetal monitor on my stomach). I had to stay on the Magnesium Sulfate drip for 24 hours after delivery because it takes a while for the blood pressure of women with preeclampsia to stabilize. I was still technically at risk for seizures. I still had the leg massage machine, a BP cuff, my IV, regular blood sugar checks, and labs drawn (which took 4 tries before they were able to find my vein because of something the Mag was doing to my blood flow). I still had to pee in the portable toilet with the help of a nurse, only now it was much worse (for both of us), since I had just delivered a baby. I promise that I apologized every single time. They always laughed at me and told me that they had seen much much worse. 

Graphic warning: All of my urine was measured to make sure that the Magnesium Sulfate wasn't messing up my body. I had a difficult time urinating at first and there was talk of having to get a catheter, but I was determined to not have that happen after everything else. I listened to running water for a while and the magic finally happened. And after it happened the first time, I peed more than I ever have in my life! I was totally in shock by how much water I had retained. I literally lost 20 pounds in 2 weeks and blame most of that on water weight from the preeclampsia.   

I laid awake and alone in that room, missing my baby all night long. I worried about her and wondered who was taking care of her, how she was doing, and whether I would be informed right away if she was not doing well. To be honest, it didn’t really feel like she belonged to me. I replayed the events from the last few days in my head. It was as if I had just experienced an emergency medical situation and then went to visit a baby in the hospital. The two events didn’t seem connected in my brain. I kept looking down at my stomach in shock that she wasn't in there anymore. I had talked to her so much during the pregnancy, telling her to keep getting big and strong while she was actually getting sicker every day. I tried pumping milk a few times, but only a couple drops came out.

In the morning, I anxiously watched the clock- waiting for the 24 hours of Mag to be over, for my family and Jared to come back to the hospital, and most of all to get to go back downstairs to see Eleanora. Finally, things started happening. My family arrived and the nurse came and capped my IV. Jared helped me take a shower. Even though I couldn't really stand and had to wear a plastic glove over my arm with the IV, it was still wonderful to get clean after many oh so gross days. I got to take off my hospital gown and put on my own pajamas and a little makeup- I felt like a new woman! I was supposed to get another round of blood work and leave the capped IV for 1 more day, but I begged my nurse and she made it all go away. I was SO happy to be free from all of the needles finally. YAY! 

 

We packed all of our stuff up, said goodbye to the room where so much craziness had happened in the last few days, and I got wheeled down to my new room- right down the hall from the NICU. After we got everything situated, we went to see Eleanora. We didn’t realize it at the time, but Sophie wasn’t supposed to be allowed in the NICU. The lady at the desk misunderstood and thought that Sophie was Eleanora’s sibling and not MY sibling. So my dad and lucky little sister Sophie got to meet Eleanora that day.

She was still lying in the infant warmer tray under the radiant heat lamp. Her nurse carefully took her out and tucked her into my shirt for some skin-to-skin contact. I was so thrilled to finally feel her tiny little body against me, but I was also a little nervous that I would accidentally pull on one of her wires or hurt her somehow. 

Jared's parents were also able to come meet her that afternoon.

I spent that last night in the hospital going through stacks of paperwork, stuffing my face with hospital food, watching “Extreme Birth Stories” (because it couldn’t scare me anymore- ha!), trying to pump milk, and hobbling down to be with my girl every few hours. She had gotten moved into an incubator during the night and was under bilirubin lights to help with her jaundice.

I asked to hold her several times, but her night nurse kept saying no. I was so upset that I had only really had the opportunity to hold her once since she had been born nearly 2 days earlier. A different nurse later explained to me that the reason I wasn't allowed to hold her was that she needed to stay quietly wrapped in her incubator with minimal noise/lights/stimulation in an attempt to mimic the womb. This was the best way for her brain and body to continue growing how they otherwise would have until she was supposed to be born. The nurses administered her care all at once every 3 hours. I learned that if I could make sure to be in her room at that time, I would be allowed to complete some of her care (check vitals, change diaper, etc), and maybe get to hold her.

The next morning (May 7th), I was discharged and spent the rest of the day in her room. That evening, I went home and began the long journey of going home without my baby.