Plan E: 31&4

Plan A: Vaginal delivery.

You know, like in the movies. I was going to have the “typical” vaginal birth that you see in the movies, that all my family and friends had. My water would break, Nick would drive us to the hospital, I’d be in active labor for a few hours and then push Delaney right out. I wanted to catch her or have Nick do it. He’d cut the cord and I’d get my hour of skin to skin. Everything was going to be perfect. (I was totally up to the idea of a water birth too!)

Plan B: Scheduled C-Section.

Okay, so my placenta was a complete joke. I learned at my 20 week anatomy scan that I had vasa previa, placenta previa and an additional posterior placenta lobe. Essentially, my placenta was fucked and Delaney would have to be born at 35 weeks via C-section in order for the placenta not to erupt and her bleed out. Well fuck. This isn’t what I wanted at all. I was horrified that Delaney was in danger and would have to be born early and I was selfishly grieving that I was missing out on a “normal” birthing experience. Everything that I wanted and planned for was totally out of the window.

Alright fine, time to regroup and make a new plan. I was seen by all 4 of the maternal-fetal medicine (MFM) doctors and they all knew my story. I would move into the hospital between 30-32 weeks to be monitored and one of these doctor would be delivering Delaney at 35 weeks. I was also told that for the rest of my pregnancy, I was on pelvic rest ..aka no sex. Really? How are you going to tell a pregnant woman with all these hormones that she can’t have sex for 15 weeks. But it posed a serious threat to the placenta, and to Delaney’s life. Getting this news sucked. It all sucked, but that was the new plan and I had to be okay with it.

Plan C: 12 Weeks of Tripler.

At 23 weeks I had a decently large bleed which ended up getting me admitted to the hospital, Room 6. Nick and I were terrified. We had all sorts of medical professionals coming into my room to explain all the things that were going to happen, because I was possibly going to have Delaney that night. We were getting told all sorts of information; how the c-section would be performed, whether they’d do a horizontal or vertical incision (for both the outer incision and on my uterus), if I needed a vertical incision then I’d only ever be able to give birth through c-section, and how I may end up losing my uterus if there was a significant amount of trauma. They prepped us for the possibility of a blood transfusions and even death. They ran down the list of all the medical ailments Delaney could face; cerebral palsy, chronic lung disease, blindness, deafness, kidney/liver/brain diseases, the list just went on and on. At one point when Nick was not in the room, the doctors told me that if Delaney was to be born that night at 23 weeks, she would have a 30% survival rate. Let that sink in. I was starting to fall under the impression that the doctors didn’t think Delaney’s quality of life was worth saving. But Nick and I made the decision to do anything that it took to save our baby girl.

Our next step was early intervention medication; corticosteroids, magnesium sulfate (with it came a catheter) and anti-contraction meds. The steroids were to help Dee’s lungs mature. I got two lovely shots in the butt 24 hours apart that burned for a solid 10 minutes. It sucked but it was bearable. The magnesium is a whole other story. The nurse administering it to me was very upfront, “It’s going to be miserable for the first half hour, then after that it will just suck.” And she was right. Within minutes of the magnesium entering my veins, my body was on fire. It felt like someone had just dipped my body into acid. I was instantly sweating and could no longer think straight, I was just so consumed in heat. They put an ice pack on my forehead, my neck and on my arm where the IV was. I also had a fan on high blowing right at me, still I was on fire. Eventually the misery wore off and then it only sucked. By that point, Nick was able to make me laugh, and things were getting better. I was then given the anti-contraction medications to help give the first two meds their time to kick in and keep Delaney inside me for as long as possible. No complaints on those.

I stayed in the windowless Room 6 for three days and was monitored, and things started to look better. On the 3^rd night, everything was looking good and I was going to be transferred to the mommy recovery unit …until I went to the bathroom and again, had another bleed. Imminently I called for my nurse. The nurse Jess who I had gotten close to responded, coming into my room with a wheelchair to transfer me downstairs. She saw me standing in the bathroom doorway, hysterically crying, and helped me to my bed. She called for help and started to prep my belly for surgery (she told me she was doing all the prep to jinx us; it was her form of good luck). In the midst of all the crazy, Jess helped me calmly notify Nick that he needed to get to the hospital as quickly and safely as possible. Because again, Delaney might be coming, but I was waiting for him to arrive to tell him that. I remember the nurses trying to get my legs up in the stirrups for an exam, but I just couldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think straight. Fear had just completely taken over. After being examined, the bleeding had calmed down and I was then transferred to the L&D room closest to the OR, Room 11. It was somewhere around here that I was told by the MFM that I would be staying in Tripler, on L&D, in Room 11, closest to the OR, until Delaney was born at 35 weeks ..if we made it that far.

What. The. Fuck.

Um, hi …THAT’S TWELVE WEEKS!!!!!!!

It took time, of course, but okay fine. 12 weeks of Tripler it is. This is where it is safest for Delaney, this is where its safest for me. At least I was now in a room with windows and had developed great relationships with a handful of the nurses. It was going to suck but it wasn’t the end of the world. In the long run, it was going to be worth it. So there you go, our new plans was to stay in Tripler until Delaney was born.

Just kidding.

After 6 days of living the hospital life and Nick buying and bringing things into my room to make it feel more “at home,” I was notified that I was allowed to go home.

Lolololololol WHAT?!?

That was probably one of the biggest and most confusing curveball of my life.

Plan D: House Arrest

Okay so now I can go home BUT ..there’s always a but.

But:

I couldn’t leave a 10-mile radius of Tripler (in the event that I started to bleed they needed to know I’d be close enough that I could get to the hospital quickly).
I couldn’t lift anything heavier that 10lbs. Lifting anything too heavy could cause me to bleed.
I was still on pelvic rest (because having sex would cause me to bleed and well you get it at this point).
With any sign or symptom that wasn’t normal, I had to immediately come back to Tripler.
If I continually had issues, I would mostly likely be admitted before the 30-32 weeks.

Okay, I can work with that. It took away a ton of my freedom, I felt useless around the house and it made making plans with friends a real pain in the ass, but we made it work. This is what was going to keep Delaney safe, so that’s what I had to do.

Fast forward to 28 weeks and I find myself back in Tripler, admitted for another week due to, yet again, another bleed (back in Room 11, closest to the OR). Here comes round two of magnesium, steroids, a catheter and anti-contraction meds. I’ll admit, I don’t remember much of this week in the hospital, but the magnesium was definitely worse the second time around. Hot, hot, fucking hot. Fans, ice packs and Nicks humor helped me through it.

Eventually I was transferred downstairs to the mommy recovery unit to be monitored and this is where Nick and I spent New Years Eve. After a week I was cleared to go home under all the same rules as last time. Once again, it was heavily stressed that if I continue to have these bleeds or other issues, I would likely be admitted to stay before 32 weeks.

*I’d like to add here that not long ago I looked at my online patient portal and between 20 weeks, when you’re sent straight to L&D for any issues, and 31 weeks, when I would end up having Delaney, I was seen 12 times.

November 14^th10:47 pm
November 21^st 5:23 am -first time being admitted
December 6^th 8:45 pm
December 17^th 4:51 pm
December 21^st 8:11 pm
December 27^th 8:09 pm
December 28^th 9:51 am
December 29^th 5:39 am
December 30^th 6:30 am -second time being admitted
January 4^th 7:05 am
January 11^th 1:28 pm
January 18^th 6:23 pm – Delaney’s birthday

So its safe to say the doctors trusted me that if I had any issues, they knew I’d come in.

At this point, around January 11^th I realized I was skating thin ice and needed to keep my shit together or else I would be in the hospital for my mom, sister and Zelda’s visit for my baby shower on the 18^th. Totally selfish of me, I know, but I just didn’t want to spend that time in the hospital, so I tried my best not to think about anything going wrong and I just tried to relax.

On Wednesday the 15^th, I got out of bed in the morning and had some fluid run down my leg. In my head I thought, “I wonder if this is what it’s like to have your water break” but I chalked it up to gross pregnancy bodily fluid things happening and continued on with my day.

Mom, Claire and Zelda arrived on the 16^th and we spent the 17^th prepping for the baby shower. I swore I had a UTI, I knew something just didn’t feel right. I tried my best to ignore it, knowing that if I went into the hospital again, they would for sure early admit me since I was 31 weeks. I was not going to spend my baby shower in a hospital room (I know, a selfish decision).

Finally, January 18^th we had my baby shower at home. It was a beautiful day and we received so many lovely gifts. I had such a great time chatting with friends and was just so consumed in the love. But I spent a lot of the time sitting on my kitchen chair and was just wildly uncomfortable. When everyone left, I laid on my couch for a while and tried to just relax my body. I hadn’t been feeling Delaney move much and I was still experiencing some pain from what I thought was a UTI. Finally, after an hour or two of laying around, I told Nick we needed to get me checked out in the hospital.

I told mom and Claire that I would probably be there for a few hours, get some antibiotics and come home. Ha!

Plan E: 31&4

Nick and I got to the hospital and did the same routine; I gave a urine sample, went into exam room 1 and undress from the waist down. Monitors were put on my belly to monitor Dee’s heartrate and my contractions and my urine came back negative for any infections. The doctor told me that I was fine, and I had nothing to worry about. She asked if I wanted her to do a quick exam to ease my mind and I told her yes, just so I could know for sure that me and Delaney were okay. I mean, I was already undressed anyway.

She did the exam, took a swab, and looked at it in the microscope in the room. She spent a really long time examining it. She mentioned something about fluid, then left to discuss it with another doctor. Next thing I know, 4 doctors are in the room looking at the microscope and debating on what to do. From what I gathered, it kind of looked positive for amniotic fluid, but not completely. They did a repeat test and left the room. It was becoming all to real, I told Nick that if it was positive, we’d be having Delaney in 24 hours. We both began to panic, and I couldn’t stop shaking.

Every time I had Nick take me into the hospital, I felt crazy. I felt stupid for always being nervous that something was wrong. I felt like the staff thought I was insane, I felt like everyone thought I was over dramatic and worried too much.

Now I really had something to worry about. Two doctors came back in and confirmed that the sample was positive for amniotic fluid. My amniotic sac was ruptured (which definitely happened on the 15th) and Delaney was coming that night via emergency C-section. I burst into tears. My entire body was shaking, and I couldn’t make it stop. I was only 31 weeks and 4 days pregnant. It was way too early to have Delaney. This is not okay. She was going to be so small. After trying to convince me that it was going to be okay, Nick stepped out to call his dad and I called my mom. All I could think about was how small Delaney was going to be and I couldn’t stop crying.

I was quickly admitted and brought back into Room 6, where it all began, to be prepped for surgery. None of the MFM’s were there, none of the nurses I had grown close to were there. Everything we had planned for, the doctor to deliver, the nurses to be in the OR, it was all out the window. Again.

Doctors came in and gave us the run down again of what could happen to me and prepared us for any medical ailments Delaney could face, because this time, she was absolutely coming. While we’re getting told all this information, meeting all the different staff (NICU staff, anesthesiologist, nurses, etc.), and signing all the necessary paperwork, I’m getting my last round of magnesium. Again, burning hot lava coursing through my veins and I’m expected to focus on everything being thrown at me.

Here we are, Nick and I alone in the L&D room, preparing to become parents in the matter of minutes. Despite how terrified I was, and I’m sure how terrified Nick was, he still had me cracking up. I remain thankful every day that I am who he chose to spend the rest of his life with.

Eventually, it was time to bring me into the OR. Nick had to wait until things began before he was allowed in with me. I was naked, freezing cold and alone in this all white room. I knew this day was coming, I had known about it for 11 weeks now, but in no way was I prepared to have this surgery. The drugs set in and I could barely remember going from my bed to the OR table.

I could feel tugging and pressure on my belly and all I remember was me trying to lift my legs up in the air, but nothing happening. Soon Nick was allowed in and I remember him holding my hand. “Okay dad,” said my anesthesiologist, “stand up and take a look, your baby is coming out now!”

I felt all the tugs and movements when they started to remove Delaney from my body. Then this insane whooshing feeling happened and she was out. I didn’t get to hold her, I don’t think I even got to take a quick look at her. Delaney was born at 10:42 pm. The NICU staff immediately began to work on her as my team continued with my surgery. I remember telling Nick to go be with our daughter, that I was okay.

Before they left the room, the doctors and nurses angled the isolette so I could finally look at my baby. I don’t remember this, but there is a picture of it happening. Right after, Nick and Delaney’s team took her down to the NICU. Again, I was alone.

Once my surgery was over I was brought into a room on the L&D floor to recover. After some time, Nick and Delaney’s doctor came to talk to me and tell me what great health she was in. I even got to see pictures that Nick took of her in the OR and in her NICU room.

Soon enough I was getting transferred down to the mommy recovery unit. As they were bringing me down, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star plated over the PA system. I asked if that was for me and they said yes. This song haunted me. I heard it when I was in the hospital confirming my miscarriage, when I was in the OR getting my D&C and when I followed up with the therapist though the OB clinic. They play that song every time a baby was born, but it was never for me. Except now. Now it was finally my turn. I just had my baby, she was healthy and they played Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to let the hospital know that Delaney had been born. And I cried such happy tears.

When I had gotten to my new room, I was still heavily drugged up and couldn’t remember much. It was late and I was tired. I still had the catheter in from surgery and nurses were coming in what felt like every 20 minutes to check on me. In the morning, my nurse asked me how I felt. I responded by asking her when could I go to the NICU to see Delaney. She told me that I had to get the catheter out first, but she had an hour-long class to teach and I had to wait. It was agonizing. My baby was in the hospital, in a room in her isolette, without me being there for her. I didn’t care that I was still recovering, I needed to be with my baby.

The wait for my nurse to come back felt like a lifetime. Nick was with me by the time she returned to take out my catheter, which I reminded her that she needed to do ASAP. She told me that if I could walk from my bed to the bathroom and back twice, that I could go see Delaney. Getting up was brutal and I walked at a glaciers pace, but after more than 12 hours of Delaney being born, I was finally given the green light to go meet her.

Nick wheeled me to the NICU and finally I was able to see my girl.

3lbs, 8oz’s. She was so small.

Everything that we had planned for, everything that I advocated for weeks for, all the heartache and all the love, all the painful medications, all the nausea, heartburn and back pain, laid right there in front of me, in this tiny little 3lb, 8oz body. And she was perfect.

We couldn’t hold her, shit we really weren’t even supposed to touch her much, but I needed to. I needed to feel my daughter and know that she was real. That this rollercoaster of a pregnancy was worth it because now I could touch my baby and I knew she was safe.

In 31 weeks and 4 days, my body grew Delaney. It was a really long and emotionally difficult 31 weeks and 4 days, but the three of us survived it.

Now, here we are at 31 week and 4 days old. Delaney is so strong and healthy, no medical ailments in sight. She is the happiest little girl that I know and is always smiling. She can hold her toys, she loves to happy scream, she’s more vocal than me (impossible, I know), she loves to eat, she’s sitting up on her own and is trying to crawl. Delaney amazes Nick and I every single day and we just fall more and more in love with her.

When I think about those 31 week and 4 days, I think how it was worth it. Everything, it was all worth it. And I would do it a million times over for her.