My Story
After our first loss, a first trimester miscarriage, we were reassured that the next pregnancy should go perfectly. We had 6, 8, 10 and 15 week appointments where we got to see our baby on an u/s the first three times and got to hear her strong heartbeat all four times. Everything was perfect, she was developing perfectly, my body was changing the way it should and we were encouraged that things were progressing as planned. To say the least, we were ecstatic that we would be bringing a baby into the world, October 2011, right around my birthday. Our joy of the thought of this was indescribable; we were going to be parents.
I had every symptom in the book: nausea, vomiting, fatigue, heartburn, a repulsion to almost all smells, headaches and everything else they tell you that you could develop. My doctors reassured me that all of these symptoms I was feeling was a sign of a healthy baby developing so I gladly took on all of them. I spent 2 weeks lying on the couch, barely eating because the vomiting was so bad. I eventually went on a generic form of Zofran after many objections from my DH. He wanted to keep our LO safe and free from medications but the doctor reassured us that we were putting our LO at more of risk by me not keeping food down than taking medication. My vomiting and nausea didn’t cease until about 15 weeks. I had a baby bump around 16 weeks that I was just so proud of. That was the first noticeable physical sign of my pregnancy that the rest of the world could see. I was just waiting to feel my LO move. Every time I was still I was waiting to feel the movements. I’m not sure I ever got to feel that magical feeling…
The First Signs of Trouble
I didn’t realize that anything was wrong. That is the thing I beat myself up about the most. I should have known. I should have asked. Now, I feel like I ignored the symptoms and I keep telling myself that I knew something was wrong….why didn't I do anything?? Those thoughts are enough to make you crazy. Maybe if I would have done something I would still be carrying her, she may still be with us.
I felt a heaviness in my lower abdomen. When I had to pee it was more noticeable but after I did pee, I felt relief so just passed it off as my bladder being full. When I went from sitting to standing is when it was most noticeable but again, I usually only noticed it when I was getting up to pee.
It Wednesday May 18th 2011 when I was working from 3pm-11pm that I noticed something different but didn’t realize it was a life-threatening symptom. I had been working part time for the most part and my work pants and belt had been getting so tight I could barely button them any longer so when I noticed a tightness in my abdomen I just unbuttoned my pants and belt and felt some relief.
The dull achiness I was feeling I wrote off to be more growing pains. I had been having sharp pains, dull pains, pulling pains; you name it, the whole pregnancy. I had just been reading the other day that the baby would be doubling in size over the next few weeks and to expect some lower abdomen pain. Now, I keep telling myself, “you should have known it wasn’t normal”. I also had some cramping during the day that Wednesday, again just like menstrual cramps but nothing that I was concerned about since I had been having cramps the entire pregnancy. I just remember it as feeling crampy that day. I had an increase in discharge and a little dark red blood when I went to the bathroom earlier that day. Generally, when I did have a BM I also had increased vaginal discharge, so I wrote that off of being the cause. The achiness came and went that evening and came again once more when I returned home. After laying down all night and the next morning I relaxed all day before going into work again that Thursday night. I had no pain that I can recall while I was resting. I recall looking up mucus plugs on my forum after reading about another girl in my birth club who dilated and gave birth to her baby too early. I determined I have had no discharge like that and felt satisfied that I was fine.
At work Thursday night I felt that heaviness again. I again went to empty my bladder and when I wiped I had a giant glob of mucus – grey, white and red in color. I began shaking as I realized this was likely my mucus plug. Still in the bathroom, I immediately called my doctor’s office. They had to page the doctor and I anxiously waited in the work office after telling my DH (we work together) that we may need to go to the ER. She asked me a series of questions; did you have sex in the last 24 hours? No. Do you have cramps? Not really, nothing that I think is abnormal. I couldn't think of how to describe the feeling I felt. I came up with "heaviness" only after I got home and started doing research. A light came on when I read the symptoms for IC and heaviness was exactly how I would have described it. Then she told me I could either come in tonight to the ER or wait till morning and go in to her office. DH and I quickly decided to go to the ER.
I was numb. I was so scared, there were no words. I didn’t think, I didn’t talk and I didn’t know what to do. I never could have imagined the horror that was going to follow over the next week.
At the Hospital
(May 19, 2011) At the ER I was taken back fairly quickly. I was allowed to get up, use the restroom; I gave a urine sample and waited for the doctor. My heart rate was high, DH noticed this and I thought, well I am very nervous. The ER doctor didn't examine me. He reassured me that everything was likely fine but that my OB said to bring me up to L&D, the ER doctor seemed to think this wasn’t necessary but they transferred me anyway. I was transferred up to L&D in bed. I wonder now if maybe they did have an idea of what was happening to me but didn’t want to tell me just yet.
At L&D, they got me settled and explained they needed to do a pelvic exam and do a few cultures. The nurse silently did a quick exam with a speculum that was far too big, and then grimly stated “you are dilated, at least 2-3cm I would say”. I could tell by the look on her face that it was bad. I was numb at first then completely broke down. Holding my DH, I was in tears and telling him “that I couldn’t do this again”. I meant, I couldn’t lose another baby. The nurse also told us that my bag of water was bulging into my cervix and that she could see it. She quickly put my bed back so that my feet were higher than my head, hoping the bag of water would go back inside.
They drew my blood. My white blood cell count was 19,000. The normal level, we were told, for a pregnant woman should be no higher than 11,000. I had an infection. The question later would be: did that infection cause my cervix to dilate or did the dilation of my cervix cause the infection? There was no way to tell how long my cervix had actually been open, allowing the passage of bacteria from my vagina into that sterile environment that held our precious baby. I felt guilty and stupid and completely devastated. What if I had an infection that caused all of this to happen? Why didn’t I call or come in when I first noticed the symptoms? I kept running scenarios through my head, trying to remember if I did have any other symptoms.
Whether they meant to or not, the doctors made me feel like it was my fault at first. Why didn’t I call? Did you notice an infection? No, I didn’t notice an infection. I had read about what kinds of infections could cause your cervix to dilate, but I had noticed none of the symptoms the article said to watch for. To this day I try to remember if I had any symptoms that I may have overlooked. Was the discharge I was having all normal? They said to watch for “smelly” discharge, but to a me, everything smelled disgusting, even my own body and even soap!! So no, I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Still, I cannot help but continue to wonder, "what if".
Different doctors came in each day. Giving me hope and then taking it away. The second day, Friday 5/20/11, the high risk perinatologist came in and said I had dilated more and that the baby’s head was in my cervix. I didn’t realize until Monday that when she told me this, she was also telling me that there was nothing they could do. At first, I was told that if my wbc count went down they could do a cerclage. Even with the cerclage, they said there was about a 50% chance of my water breaking from the procedure. I said that it was a risk I was willing to take rather than wait for the bag to break on it’s own with no hope in saving our baby. I was only 18 weeks that Thursday when I came in and was told 24 weeks was the viability cutoff. I quickly realized that I needed to make it 6 more weeks to give my baby a fighting chance. I was put on a monitor to ensure that I wasn’t having contractions or going into labor.
My DH didn’t sleep at all Thursday night. They gave me an Ambien so I did sleep, a little. I remember waking up in pain, having contractions during the night. My DH probably remembers this night more clearly that I do. I just remember holding his hand as the pain rose and fell and then I would return to sleeping. I don't remember that night well. These were the last contractions I would ever feel during this pregnancy.
That Friday morning my wbc count went down to 15,000 from 19,000. We celebrated but also knew it had to get down to at least 13,000 before the Dr. would do the cerclage. My days consisted of sleeping, taking pills, having my blood taken, being bathed in bed and trying to do something to occupy my mind. My back hurt a lot, until they eventually brought me a egg carton mattress that somehow helped tremendously. I would have done anything to keep our little girl inside of me as long as possible.
The next day, Saturday, my wbc count was down to 13,000. Sunday it was back up to 15,000. I cried when I heard that. To me, that meant the infection wasn’t going away and I think I knew deep down that now we were only waiting for the inevitable, for my temp to go up forcing the doctors to induce me or for my water to break. I was already on 2 antibiotics, amp and gent. My temperature was good until that Sunday. 100.4F was considered to be a dangerous temp for me, it was in the 97 or 98 degree range before Sunday. On Sunday it was going up to the high 98s and low 99s. This worried me. They began doing oral temps instead of the one they swipe over your forehead to get lower and more accurate readings. We were able to hear our LO’s heartbeat at least two times per day and even more if we requested it. Her heartbeat was generally 150-170’s. Sunday it was going up to 170’s more often.
I was so scared and I know my DH was likely even more scared than I was.
I was on strict bed rest (SBR) ever since they had found I was dilated. This meant that I was not able to get out of bed for any reason. I was lying with my feet about 15 degrees higher than my head, trying to keep that bag of water in. I did not argue, I knew that this was the best thing for our baby. It was hard but I was willing to do it for at least the next 6 weeks, until we reached viability and more if I needed to. I was in pain from my back aching, my muscles were so sore and they eventually put on leg compressors to keep my blood flowing so I had a lesser chance of getting a blood clot in my legs. If I had to go to the bathroom, I had to use a bedpan. I had a pad on because ever since they did a pelvic exam I had been bleeding constantly but every day it was decreasing. I couldn’t take a shower so DH and the nurses had to wash me in bed, change my sheets with me still in bed and wash my hair in a little inflatable wash bin. I had to learn to eat and drink in that position too. It was not as challenging as I had thought it would be.
I did all of this without complaining, without anger and with a lot of patience. I found a new side to myself that week. I was kind, friendly, hopeful, patient and thankful. I never once raised my voice or got angry with DH or a nurse. I was just always so thankful for what they were doing for my baby and I. I am not generally a very patient person and I am usually pretty sarcastic but these events just softened me.
There were times when we had hope. We kept hope alive, maybe for our own sanity? We couldn’t come to terms with what the doctors and nurses had subtly been telling us; that we were going to deliver this baby too early. They told us many times that there was less than a 10% chance of me not going into labor. The infection in my uterus would likely cause my water to break and cause me to go into labor. The other possibility, which I really dreaded, was that they may have to induce me if my infection got too bad. They kept telling us, as the days went by, that they were surprised I hadn’t gone into labor yet. I was fighting, I am a fighter and so was Lindsey.
We talked about what it would be like to have me at home on SBR for so many more months and how we would handle it. One nurse tried to find out what our wishes were once the baby was born, would we want to hold it? Should they call the Haven Network to take pictures? We were in denial and I was trying to separate myself. The nurse asked us when it was late, I think I had already taken an Ambien and don’t even remember the conversation really. Apparently, as I learned later, we originally told her that we didn’t want to see the baby or take pictures. I don’t remember that but everyone else kept bringing up that fact after everything was over. This irritates me because I don't remember telling the nurses this. I do remember telling my DH this when I initially got the news but I think that was normal to want to protect yourself and separate yourself from the events that were taking place.
Monday came, my wbc count wasn’t really going down anymore. It had went back up to 15,000. My doctor came and saw us, again giving us hope saying she was going to talk to the high risk doctor and possibly get a cerclage scheduled. A few hours went by and then my doctor called us on the phone to tell us there was no hope. She actually told me "I'm hoping you go into labor soon". She didn't explain what was happening very well and all I remember hearing is that my baby was going to die.
I was hysterical and a nurse had to come in to calm me down and offer reassurance that there was still hope. Now, I think that she was just trying to keep me positive and not let me get hysterical or depressed. My temperature slowly went up all day. I had a headache. In the evening, between 8-10pm I slowly got worse. The infection started to take over. I was sweating and had chills. The nurses took my temperature for the last time and it was 102 I think.
I went back to L&D and had a pelvic exam. They said the baby was definitely coming now. My DH called my mom and sisters and his parents to come see the baby for the little time she would be with us. The nurses called the Haven Network. I had taken an Ambien already thinking I was going to sleep. I asked for something for the pain, I didn't know how much pain I would have but some of the doctors I had seen before had said I could have one when the time came. Now, my doctor just stared at me like I was insane for asking and then finally agreed to dilaudid. They only gave me a small amount to begin with but eventually had to increase it because of the pain I was in.
Our precious Lindsey was born around 1:20am. They told me she would just come out, just like that but it actually took me at least an hour of pushing before she was born. I didn't have pain during the delivery but it did take a lot of effort. The doctor was silent when she was born so we didn't know right away, the doctor issues we had are another story which I will address later. The nurse took her and cleaned her up. I was anxious to see her but the doctor was concentrated on getting the placenta out. It was still partially attached so they needed to wait to see if it would come out otherwise I would have to have a d&c.
When the handed me my daughter, all I could do was smile. She was so perfect, so little and she was our baby. I remember feeling this indescribable sense of love and pride. I remember those feelings when I start missing her and it always makes me smile. I always wondered what it would feel like to hold our baby in my arms but I never thought I would find out this soon…
The nurse came in and tried to pull the cord to see if it was looser and would come out, but she broke the cord and it went back inside of me. The doctor was furious. This began the pain, they tried to use a spectrum that was too big, making me squirm in pain. It felt like they had inserted a knife into me. The doctor found a smaller one and then I have no idea what she was doing but whatever it was felt like she was trying to do a d&c right there in L&D. I began crying and whining that it hurt too much. I seriously considered kicking the doctor to make her stop. The nurse asked if she could give me more dilaudid and when she did I was able to sit a little more still. It still hurt but it helped me relax. DH was holding my hand and trying to help me hold onto Lindsey. I was so concerned about dropping her. The placenta eventually came out after they administered some kind of meds.
My DH and I watched our little girl's strong heartbeat beat for two hours and ten minutes. She tried to move her mouth twice, maybe trying to breath? We were amazed at how long she continued to fight. We were so proud of her for being so strong. The nurse confirmed that she was perfect and well developed for her very young age. We looked over her tiny body, her 10 fingers and 10 toes, her tiny nose, lips and ears. We held her, kissed her, talked to and cuddled her until her little heart stopped beating. We wanted her to feel our love and I like to think that she did.
Our parents came in and took turns holding her. The Haven Network took beautiful pictures that I cherish to this day. Once everyone left and we were alone again, DH and I held her for about another hour before saying goodbye to her for the last time and handing her over to the nurse. I hate remembering that moment, of leaving my little girl. I would do anything to have more time with her and hold her once again.
