Wow. My daughter. That seems so strange to say. But it's real now. SHE'S real. I can say it and mean it! WOW!!!!
Ok, so here goes the *very* long story... this is more for documentation for me though I hope those reading this don't hate me for being so wordy...
So, picking up where I left off on Christmas Eve. My spirits began to rise the next day, as it was Christmas and I literally had a blizzard of visitors and presents and love surrounding me all day. I'm surprised the nurses didn't say something; at one point I think we my have had 10+ people by my bedside. But... it was theraputic and wonderful to have everyone. AND Dave was allowed to bring Sammy down to the lobby to see me for a quick 10 minute visit, and that helped calm my nerves just to hug my pup again. I was fearful that I might not see him again for weeks but at least I got to say I love you to him and wrap my arms around that big scruffy neck. So, I got lots of nice gifts, and had some great visits with my family, the Rolstons, friends, etc... went to bed that night feeling a little more rested and settled.
On Saturday the 26th, things were much more quiet. I still had a slew of visitors but I seemed to be settling into hospital bedrest life. I was still getting regular blood pressure readings, and they would hook me up to the fetal non-stress monitor multiple times a day. The baby did not seem to want to cooperate and give them the movement they needed, so hours would go by with me hooked up to that thing. I will never forget the clip-clop sound of her heartbeat; while comforting, it was also annoying to have to constantly be connected to that damn thing. After an uneventful 26th, everything started to change on Sunday. I woke up, feeling normal. Had breakfast, enjoyed my morning coffee with Andrew (he would bring me Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts coffee every morning and sit and visit with me, it was awesome!) and got an amazing surprise - my lovely friend Andrea from Boston came to visit me! So as the afternoon progressed, was lying in bed watching the Eagles-Broncos game, and I started to get this headache... at first it was dull, but it began to progress. Now, when you have pre-eclampsia, they constantly ask you whether or not you have a headache, blurred vision, or spots in front of your eyes, as these are all major indicators that your blood pressure is high. And this was the first time I'd experienced any of these things. So around 5:30 I alerted the nurse that this headache had set in. But it crept up on me very quickly, and by 7:30, the pain had progressed from a "3 out of 10" to a "7 out of 10." So, I was starting to get very concerned. I couldn't eat or drink anything. I could barely think beyond the headache. They took me into the fetal non-stress room and hooked me up to the monitor, and gave me a cold washcloth for my forehead. But the pain wasn't going away. I asked again if I could take something for it, and they said they had to check with the doctor. Grrrr. It continued to escalate. By 8:30 I was in excruciating pain, but was finally given some percocet. At this point, my blood pressure was dangerously high, so they wheeled me, bed and all, into a labor and delivery room, where they could monitor me and the baby a little more privately and closely. Mom and Andrea came with me, but I couldn't even communicate, I was in so much pain. Andrea finally left; I felt so bad, she'd driven all the way from Long Island and I could barely visit with her! Mom stayed by my side all night, which, at the time concerned me because I was worried about her, but looking back, I'm really glad she was there. FINALLY, around 11 pm, the percs started to work and the headache began to diminish. They let me have some ice chips, but that was it. My appetite finally began to come back. But they had to take my blood pressure (which was still higher than they wanted it to be) every half hour, so sleep was near impossible.
Finally, early the next morning, they let me go back to my normal room. They'd given me some blood pressure medication to get it under control, and the headache was finally gone. There was a resonate dull ache in the back of my mind but I believe it was more fatigue than anything.
So, the 28th was another very quiet day. I warded off most visitors, but Andrea and Dave spent the better part of the day with me. Jen Woodruff popped in at night for a quick hello, but otherwise, I really laid low. At around midnight, the nurses came in and took my blood pressure, and it was actually the lowest it had been in four days, I was thrilled! I even texted Dave to tell him, and he was relieved.
And that's when the fun started.
3 am, the nurse comes in and gently wakes me to take my BP. It was around 190/110. Dangerously high. She immediately went to get the doctor. She comes back a few minutes later and informs me that "this baby is coming tonight." Tonight? What? But I was sleeping! And my pressure was fine three hours ago! C'mon! I began to tremble and tear up. I told them they couldn't touch me until my husband got there. So I immediately called him, praying that the phone would wake him up. He picked up, and I told him to get changed, and get down to the hospital - his daughter was going to be born. They wheeled me back to another labor and delivery room and started prepping me for the whole process. Dave got there at about 4 am, and they were still giving me information about the procedure and waiting on the anesthesiologist. They took a blood sample to see what my platelet count was like; if it was OK, I could get spinal anesthesia and Dave could be present for the birth. If they were low, I was going to have to get general anesthesia and be put under. Fortunately, my numbers were "good," (whatever that means) and THANK GOD the general anesthesia didn't have to happen. I don't do very well with anesthesia... and I really wanted Dave to be able to witness the birth of his daughter, and be there with me. We made phone calls to the McCords and Rolstons respectively, to let them know that this was happening, and make sure they were ready to come down once everything and everyone had stabilized... and then a gaggle of doctors and nurses flooded my room, asking me to sign papers, taking my thumbprints, and throwing all sorts of information at us that I can't imagine they expected us to absorb at that particular moment.
So at 5:45 AM, the the anesthesiologist arrives, shoots up my spine with the liquid magic, and the whole process began. As soon as I was numb enough from the waist down, the curtain went up, the lights went on, and the surgery began. Dave and the anesthesiologist were by my head the entire time, and we chatted it up the entire time. I had to keep talking, because, though I couldn't feel any pain down there, I could most certainly FEEL something, and I felt like I might throw up on everyone around me if I stopped talking long enough to really think about what was going on. I felt some tugging, pressure, and slight discomfort, but more from fear and uneasiness... I definitely was not in any pain, thankfully! Way to go Dr. Anesthesiologist! We talked about Boston, and about Bon Jovi (I think) and the anesthesiologist (whose name unfortunately escapes me now but he was the loveliest man!) told me about how both of his daughters were born premature, and are now consequently kicking ass and taking names, and kept stroking my face and encouraging me. Dave kept telling me how proud he was of me and what a great job I was doing, and how excited he was to meet Natalie. These were great distractions, and really kept me from thinking too much about what was currently happening a few feet further south.
And that's when we heard it.
A brief but piercing cry, as our baby girl was lifted out into the world at 6:08 AM, to let us all know she was here and her lungs worked on their own!!! Dave and I both began to cry, and the doctors and nurses began congratulating us. A few seconds later, they literally gave Dave 30 seconds to stand up and peek over the curtain and see his spawn - and I commend him for taking some really great pictures in the few seconds they gave him! - and then they cleaned her up and whisked her away to the NICU (neo-natal intensive care unit) to warm her up and check her out futher. I never got to see her... which bothered me slightly at the time but between the drugs and the confusion and fear I was feeling, I didn't vocalize anything... just laid there with a sense of relief knowing that she came out and voiced her opinion to the world, and that was step 1 of knowing that she was OK. No sooner had they gotten her out of the room then they began to sew me up and prepare me to head up to the ICU to recover.
Since I'm realizing now that this blog post could go on for quite some time, and could potentially be published into a novel of it's own, I will write part 2 of this story in a forthcoming update... but for now, suffice to say, my beautiful angel of a daughter is here, and we couldn't be prouder.
