I was scheduled for an ultrasound around 11 a.m. on Friday, September 4th, 2009 at my OB/GYN's office. My doctor wanted an ultrasound performed due to my low weight gain during the last few weeks of my pregnancy. Very soon into the ultrasound, the sonographer told me that my placenta was "shot." Her description of my placenta made me nervous, but I knew this day was coming. She quickly got my doctor, who recommended I have a cesserian, because the baby was already very stressed from not receiving the nutrients and oxygen that she needed, and that I had two options, 1) have the baby that afternoon or 2) have the baby first thing the next morning. I told my doctor that I didn't want to do either; I wanted to have a normal delivery and go into labor on my own. After all, I had been having contractions off and on for a couple of weeks! I ended up choosing option #2, because I wanted to be rested and prepared and ensure my family would be there.
My Husband and I left the doctors appointment and quickly focused on everything that needed to be done - bags packed, phone calls made, work notified, insurance notified, etc. That night I could not sleep, and finally decided to sleep on the couch, so that my Husband could get some rest. I slept for probably 40 minutes the entire night, and we were off to the hospital around 6:45 a.m. the next morning.
On the drive to the hospital I told my Husband "I have a feeling something isn't going to be right with her." He said "well, if that is the case, we will handle it and deal with it the best we can, God is not going to give us more than we can handle." Looking back, I believe God had prepared me mentally for what we were about to experience, since I had this gut feeling from just about the very beginning.
9:30 a.m. came, and I was walked into the operating room and giving the epidural. After a couple of minutes, my Husband was allowed to come into the room, and the operation was underway. As soon as the doctors pulled my baby out, I remember hearing her cry for the first time. It was the sweetest thing I have ever heard. It was so strange for me to know for those 9+ months that there was a living being inside of me, but it was not until the moment I heard her cry that it all became very real to me. After hearing the cry, I remember thinking "good, everything is ok." That was until I heard my doctor's wife say to my doctor, "are you going to tell her?" My doctor didn't say a word to me, and my Husband looked up over the blue sheet, and began to repeated "what happened to her arm? Where is her arm?" Listening to everything that was being said, I was laying there strapped to the table, wondering what was going on, but knew in my mind, that something with her arm must've been what I knew in my mind would not be normal with her. I still had yet to see my baby and my Husband began to panic. The nurses and doctors all rushed to him and attempted to push him into a chair, because they thought he was going to pass out. Because of everything going on, it started to upset me and I could hear my heart beat on the machines begin to beat faster. The anisthesiologist told me he was going to give me some medicine to calm me down. I didn't say anything in response, and he injected the medicine into my IV. I do not remember much after this, but I do remember looking at my baby lay on the warming table under the lights and I could see her arm from a distance. Soon later, my Husband brought my baby to me and I gave her a kiss on her forehead. Kyla and my Husband left the operating room and were sent to the nursery, while I was sent to the recovery room, and was kept for several hours - just me and the nurse.... nobody else was around. I remember asking the nurse when could I see my baby, and when could I see my Husband? Eventually my Husband was allowed to come visit me in the recovery room, because no other patients were in there at the time, and soon after that I was wheeled into a regular labor & delivery room where I got to hold my baby for the first time (see attached photo).
I was sad to see her arm and wondered why this had happened to her, but my feelings were short-lived. Of course these same feelings would come and go for several weeks and months to come, and to this day, they still cross my mind, but I believe my feelings are normal based on the circumstances.
During our four day stay at the hospital, Kyla got a lot of attention from the nurses and doctors - she got spoiled! She had TONS of visitors. My nurse told my Husband and I that the perfect babies are born to women who do drugs/drink/smoke during their pregnancies, and the babies with disabilities are born to the women who do everything right. She said something about how she believes God gives the babies with disabilities to parents who can care for them. Her comments helped me to remember that Kyla was chosen to be our Daughter - there is a reason she was born to us. I have always been a strong believer in there being a reason for everything. I just had to remind myself of this, once again.
No comments:
Post a Comment