As I was saying... I was called back to my appointment on June 21 at 4pm, and the nurse took my blood pressure. She didn't look at me or say anything. She asked another nurse to come take my blood pressure. After checking my blood pressure, that nurse just smiled strangely at me and took me to a waiting area saying she'd be back. After 30 minutes they took my blood pressure a third time and ushered me into an exam room. The doctor came in and asked me how I was. I said I hurt and that I couldn't shake the headache I was having. She told me I was going to the hospital to get some blood work done and that I was most likely going to have this baby tomorrow. I stared at her for a moment. What? I was only 37 weeks. She explained my blood pressure was elevated and that she suspected preeclamsia (the blood work came back to support this claim). Out of confusion or stubbornness, I told her I couldn't go straight to the hospital because I had to go get (or you know, pack) my bag and drop my kids off somewhere. She and the nurse both looked concerned, but conceded to give me until 8pm to get to the hospital or else...oh and that I better not have a seizure. It was already past 5pm. I rushed home, fed the kids, packed my bag and got a hold of our family friends who could watch our kid until someone else arrived. Francis and I made it to the hospital at 7pm after dropping off the kids at the Browers' house. We were admitted to "triage" in the maternity ward while they did blood-work and monitored my blood pressure. I was eventually admitted to a room. My mom arrived and was able to get the kids (who had an awesome movie night) and bring them home. My mother-in-law got in a short time later to watch the kids overnight so my mom was able to rejoin us at the hospital. It was a long night. Medication helped me sleep a little and lower my blood pressure.
They started me on pitocin in the middle of the night. I was already contracting every minute and a half when I arrived at the hospital, but it wasn't doing anything. I also got an epidural which did wonders for my joint pain (aka I couldn't feel my legs or back). We waitied all day and finally the doctor broke my water. A while later I was at a 10 and it was time to push. The nurse checked me and made a strange face. She asked another nurse to check me and that nurse made the same face. They called the doctor to confirm that Andrew was presenting with his forehead instead of the back of his head. They were going to go ahead and let me push but warned me it would probable not work. After an hour of pushing I had made no progress. It was after 5pm now. they prepped me for a c-section. I was so exhausted I was shaking. When they got me into the operating room, they had to heavily sedate me and tie down my hands because even though I don't remember it, I was talking and trying to stop them even while on the drugs. I woke up after 7 and could see Francis holding something. I couldn't see what it was but I knew it had to be Andrew. He was a handsome 8lbs 7 oz and 21 1/2 inches long. They told me he was born at 5:55 but because I was having some trouble, it took a while to stop the bleeding and sew me up. My vision was blurry and I was coming in and out of consciousness. I mostly recall sobbing uncontrollably because I was in the worst pain of my life and I hadn't yet seen my baby boy. When they got me stable and back into my regular room, they handed me Andrew. I couldn't see him well, but I could smell his baby smell and that helped a lot. I cried for a long time, but after the right amount of medication and time, I was able to calm. I stared at my perfect baby boy. The sadness of the previous hours melted away as I looked at the angelic little one in my arms. It was worth it. He was was worth all of it. That night was also short. Despite the orders to not give me food (I hadn't had food since Thursday), Francis got me some Chick-fil-a and I snuck bites between nurses visits. I had my baby, and the sweetness of that realization carried me further than anything. the kids were able to come by that evening and meet Andrew. The brought him a toy dragon and he gave them paints and paper, pokemon cards and a priness ball. We were all instantly so very much in love. Francis's parents joined my kids (my mom had been there since I returned to my room). We doted for a bit and got pictures of us all together.
The next morning was uneventful as we both started the healing process. I was able to nurse him a couple of times. My brother-in-law Chris and niece Abby came and brought gifts. My kids were able to see and hold Andrew again too. All seemed well for a moment. And then the nurse came to do an exam around noon. Without warning she said, "He's breathing a little fast. I need to take him to the NICU to do more of an evaluation." What?
To be continued...
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