The Hardest Month of My Life

Olive's crazy pregnancy and birth story were only a sample of the challenges I would have to face.  The emotions that I went through the month Olive was in the NICU have been safely packaged up and tucked deep into my hard and far from my memory for a reason.  To this day I cry when I remember how if felt to be without her.  I cry now as I am typing this.  I want to remember though, so I am going to write it out.

Olive was born 6 weeks early, and although I received the steroid injections, her lungs were not ready to breath air yet.  She needed oxygen support soon after birth.  I wasn't allowed to hold her until she was three days old.  I could go down the NICU in a wheelchair during my stay at the hospital and sit with her as much as I was able.  My blood pressure was really messed up after the birth due to the toxemia, that I had these crippling headaches whenever I was upright.  I tried once a day to go see her if I could.  

My friend Emily came to see me in the hospital on the third day and took me down to the NICU to see Olive. The nurse let me hold her for all of a minute, but it as amazing.  I hate looking at these pictures because they make me cry to this day, but I am happy Emily took them for me.

I stayed 6 days at the hospital total, 4 after her birth. I pumped milk religiously every 3 hours night and day and they took it down to Olive and she received it through a tube.  Thank god for one thing going right! My boobs knew their job man and the nurse were blown away by my supply after only 2 days post partum.

Each day Olive grew stronger and eventually came off CPAP.  They were telling us she may be there only 1 or two weeks.

Being discharged from the hospital without your baby was heart wrenching.  I walked past the nurses station, my husband holding my hand tight, passing by all the moms with their babies nestled in their carseats ready to go home.  This heart wrenching feeling was the same each time I left the hospital over the next month....

Olive's Birth Story

I always knew in my heart my baby would come early.  Maybe it was all those warnings the fetal maternal doctor gave me about hypertensive mothers, or in my heart I just knew.  Our little baby swayed back and forth in utero from the 10th-25 Percentile over my last trimester.  My blood pressure slowly started climbing again, and the doctors would give me that side squinty eye look when they reviewed my bp levels I was recording. To add insult to injury, I developed gestational diabetes, and even with my paleo diet, my morning fasting numbers were super high.

On November 11th, I remember feeling really crampy all day in the top of my stomach.  I thought maybe I had been on my feet too long, and after dinner I had resolved myself to lay low.  As I was loading the dishwasher, at 33 weeks and 6 days pregnant, something happened.  Something inside me felt horrible.  I was in some of the worst pain, pain that would not subside.  I crawled to the couch and lay there screaming.  I remember gripping the couch with my fists and clenching the fabric waiting for it to pass.  My husband felt helpless and kept asking what he should do, but I couldn't speak. I got to the tub, hoping the warm water would relax me or something.  I called the OB office after hour call line and they told me someone would call me back.  An hour went by, still motionless in pain in my bathtub.  Finally my husband calls again and they tell us to come in.  We wake up poor Mimi, and we go to labor and delivery at 11pm.

An ultrasound confirms that I tore a 3 cm piece of my placenta, but the baby was stable.  They admitted me and began steroid shots to strengthen the babies lungs.  The doctor told me that the baby was stable, but the amount of pain I was in was concerning.  She felt that after 3 rounds of steroids they wanted to deliver the baby.  I sat for two days in the hospital under constant monitors.  After the first 24 hours, I was in so much pain it hurt to breath, the tear was near the top of my belly and the expanding of my lungs was excruciating.  I finally accepted some pain medication.  The next 24 hours my husband and I felt like we were on a plane stuck on the runway waiting to take off with the flight attendants and captain giving us different information.  It didn't help that the doctor who admitted us, now went off call and the new doctor had a different idea of what we should do.  New doctor decides that since the babies heart is stable, we should wait as long as possible (even weeks) and just be on constant standby for an emergency c section.  When she said this to me I broke into tears.  I was in this unimaginable pain, like flesh tearing apart inside me.  Every move of my body was becoming excruciating. I was not allowed any food or even water by mouth over the last 36 hours.  I looked at my husband eyes searching for him to make a decision so I didn't spend the rest of my life feeling guilty that I had my baby early because I couldn't' take this pain any longer.     The doctor left it up to us, have a csection now and the baby will surely go to the NICU for an indeterminate amount of time, or wait it out in this constant state of pain dampened by pain medication.  I hated the doctor for making me feel like I had to chose between me stopping the pain and the baby going to the NICU.  My husband could read my face, he saw my pain.  I think we both knew in our hearts something was wrong and it was time to have the baby.

We signed all the paperwork, they began to prep me for my surgery, and then the doctor knocks again. She tells me the NICU is full and that as soon as I have my baby, it will be transferred to another hospital and I will have to stay.  My husband was furious, I of course began to cry again.  Not only would my baby be in a NICU, but one across town.  How can this be happening?

I put my hands on my husband shoulders to calm him down and looked him straight in the face and for some reason at that moment, I was the strong one.  I told him that the important this is that the baby will be ok.  We can get through this, I told him.  He was so angry, I had never seen him that upset.  The charge nurse must have overheard our conversation.  She told us in this whisper that we don't have to sign the release forms for the baby to be transfered and that they will find a place for the baby.  She called the NICU and found out that private quarantine rooms were available which could technical house our infant.

Two amazing things happened next.  As I was prepped for surgery in the OR, the doctor came in and told us they found a place for our baby in the NICU, then minutes later, this amazing little girl came out screaming, which is music to a mothers ears....

5 lbs, 3 oz of love, 17 inches long at 34 weeks.

What I didn't realize was the hardest part was still ahead of me...

It's been awhile

Well blog, It's been awhile.  About 8 months to be exact.  How does somebody that blogged more than once per week (and enjoyed it) stop all of a sudden and not post for 8 months?  Life.  Life has thrown me some curve balls this year.

Remember tiny little pregnant me last October complaining that people thought my belly looked so small?  Well this little creature popped into my life about 6 weeks early....

Meet Olive Rose.  Olive came unexpectedly 6 weeks early due to my placenta tearing.  She came out screaming...more on that later.

So, after 8 months, with some ups and incredibly low downs, how does one catch up?  You see I write this blog not only for you few followers that take a peek into my life, but for me.  I write this blog overfull with pictures of my kid(s), food, adventures, typos, and grammar mistakes for myself.  Remember that one Harry Potter movie where Dumbledoor (sp?) has that bird bath looking device in his office full of memories? He can pull one out and relive it anytime? That's my blog to me.  I don't want to leave an 8 month whole in my bird basin lookin' device....

I am going to make 8 posts, one for each month that I have missed.  They will likely be full of pictures and written with tears streaming down my face, as I relive months of emotions I have tried to tuck deep into my heart.

Then hopefully I can go back to posting my happy adventures to share with you all.  I miss using my camera, I miss venting about things that bug me, sharing food fails when I try new recipes, etc.

You look so small

Sometimes I read forums on babycenter and whattoexpect.com where other December 2012 Moms posts topics, questions, photos, etc. You find a lot of stupid crap, but one day I read a post about things people say to you when you're pregnant that bother you. There were a lot of silly ones, like people hating being called "preggers" which reminded me how mad my friend got when I called her baby "nubs" when she became obsessed about the "nub theory" of determining the baby's sex in early ultrasounds...my point is we all have things that may seem silly to others, but they really bother us.

There are two things that people say to me that I really with wish they wouldn't. One is the title of this post "wow you look so small!" now don't get me wrong, I'm proud of my self control through this pregnancy in fighting my cravings and gaining only the recommended weight. But when your doctor is telling you your baby is growth restricted and not getting the nutrient it needs, and people keep telling you (however innocently) how "small" your belly looks for your gestational age, it really makes you want to cry and second guess everything you eat (or don't eat) and everything you do with your body. To be perfectly honest, I don't think I look small. I met a lady today at the deli that was ) weeks ahead of me and we were sporting the same size bellies! I also want to point out that I forced myself to eat my entire grilled cheese and salad, even though I was full after half out of guilt and anxiety over this whole growth restricted thing.

The second thing that gets to me is when people (including my own mother) like to remark how "hard this pregnancy has been" for me when
I fill them in on what's going on. I know this pregnancy hasn't been perfect, but I try so hard to stay focused on positive things surrounding my pregnancy and that is really hard when people keep reminding me of all the bad stuff! So I have Hypertension, so my baby is
Growth restricted, so I failed mg blood glucose test, so I have a BAZILLION doctor apts... You know what? So far this baby is doing ok, I'm still up
And mobile, and I have great doctors an insurance to cover them. I am able to conceive and carry my own babies. I have a loving husband who takes care of me and a little bright three year-old gearing up to be one darn good big sister.

Life is good.

Obligatory Pumpkin Patch Trip

I didn't know if I'd make it to the pumpkin patch today as planned.  I've been pretty sick all week and the weather was looking pretty iffy...

Alas, we made our way out to Elgin today for our annual trip to the "Elgin Christmas Tree Farm" pumpkin festival.  It actually worked out perfectly.  My husband was working from home and needed some quiet, and the overcast clouds kept the weather cooler and offered a nice breeze.

If you live in Austin (or near Elgin for that matter), please take your kids to this place.  It's $5 per person, but if you sign up for their newsletter via email you can get a buy one get one free admission, and I think kids under two are free.

We packed our lunches, put on our "festive" orange colored clothing, and made the 45-minute trip out to Elgin.  This place has farm animals (that bite so watch out), pumpkin decorating, hayrides, playgrounds, picnic areas (all free) and a train ride for $2 per person.  We easily spend 3 hours there playing and riding.

I have to laugh, where I grew up, in mid-october I'd be wearing some sort of jacket, and certainly not shorts!  Mimi and I actually could have used some sunscreen, and more water.  I'll have to take Mimi up to my Mom's place in upstate NY some fall so she can see what fall really is like.

Enjoy some photos!

Instant Anxiety

So far this pregnancy, I've been really "comfortable" yet cautious with how things were going.  When I  had my first apt with my new OB practice and they told me I'd need to see a fetal maternal specialist because of my chronic hypertension, I felt scared.  As I progressed from 8 weeks past 20 weeks, visiting both the OB and the specialist on a regular basis, along with monthly growth scans, I started to feel really comfortable, even confident that I'd carry to term with no real problems.

I was blind sided this week (week 28) by not only failing my glucose test, which is surprising to me after following a pretty strict primal eating plan since last January, BUT I also had some disheartening news at our most recent growth scan.  At 25 week, my growth scan showed Gummy Bear being in the 43rd percentile for growth, not too shabby.  Alas, this week they show Gummy being only in the 10th percentile.  I'm not upset with the specific numbers, because I know ultrasounds are not 100% accurate.  I'm more concerned that the numbers dropped so much in just 3 weeks.  If the doctor told me Gummy was in the 20 or 30's for weight/size percentile I don't think I'd be as anxious.

Basically the fetal maternal specialist told me that I'm not diagnosed as having Inter Uterine Growth Restriction (IUGR) yet, but if Gummy drops below 10 they want to talk early c-section. Scary.  I spent the day trying not to get upset.  I tried to be optimistic and positive.  I even reassured my husband that it doesn't mean anything yet.  We will have weekly growth scans from here on out.  Regardless of whether I make it term or not, this baby will be smaller than expected.

I of course ran out to Carters and bought some newborn sleepers, using consumer therapy to soothe my fears.  Then I went home and opened up the bin of clothes I saved from Mimi's infancy, sorted, organized and made piles to wash.  Really Jen? At 28 weeks you're washing onesies?  Shit I even contemplated packing a hospital bag.  Then I saw how irrational I was acting.  I stopped.

I woke up today feeling crampy and not noticing any of my normal "good morning" kicks from Gummy.  Of course I panicked, ate a huge croissant (figured carbs can't hurt my poor lean baby), and a fruit smoothly and laid on my couch poking at my poor belly hoping for reassuring kicks.  I was able to elucidate a fairly week response from gummy.  I spent the day worrying, fretting, daydreaming of bad outcomes, second guessing my diet and weight gain, all things any mom would do.

Luckily, as I sit here tonight on the couch relaxing with my husband I have been slammed by one huge kick after another from Gummy.  Big enough kicks to move my body around.  Gummy may be small, but he/she is in there still kickin'.

I'm going to try and relax and have faith in my doctors that all will be okay.  Hopefully Gummy's numbers improve next week and I can at least stop daydreaming of having my poor baby in a NICU for two months before I can bring him/her home.

Here I am in all my bump showing glory at 28 weeks pregnant.

Holy 3rd Trimester

I can't believe this. I'm in the THIRD trimester?!