My Birth Experience

*POP* That’s what I heard when I was bouncing on my yoga ball at 9 pm on Saturday, February 27th. Hmmm that’s weird, I thought to myself. I was in the living room, facing Obie and Joel who were snuggling on the couch. We were about to get ready for bed, and I went to the bathroom to find a toooon of fluid with a pink tinge. “Ummm JOEL there’s something weird happening!!” I yelled, and Joel came running to the bathroom. “I need to call someone! My doctor? The emergency line? AHHH I DON’T KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING!” I was frantically looking through my phone until I found the number for the on-call OBGYN. When they answered, I was screeching “Um there’s some sort of fluid that keeps leaking from me and it’s not pee but I’m only 36 weeks pregnant so this can’t be my water breaking right?!” The doc said “It sounds like your water, and you need to go to the hospital immediately.”

Shock. Pure shock. “IT’S TOO EARLY” I screamed to Joel. She can’t be coming yet, I’m not ready!! But oddly enough Joel and I had finished packing our hospital bags earlier that day, so we grabbed them, a few other things, and ran out the door.

We got to the hospital and I’m holding onto my belly while fluid is streaming out of me. If you remember from my last blog post, I had incredible SPD pain to the point I could barely walk so that made the rest of this process interesting. The ER room was empty and someone from the labor and delivery floor came and got us right away. We were put in triage, where first and foremost, COVID tests had to be administered (and yes, everything was made more difficult because of COVID). After 45 minutes, they came back negative and they could continue the process of admitting me. They tested my fluid to make sure it was amniotic and it surely was. I was given an IV (the first one failed and the second one hurt like a mother but I just dealt with it). By the way, I hadn’t felt contractions yet. So we are still in triage, waiting to get into a labor room, and I’m calling my sister’s trying to get someone to watch Obie because I was so worried about him (I hadn’t been away from him since his amputation!) Around midnight we get our labor and delivery room and I get hooked up to fluids. I spend time walking around, talking to the nurse, and praying that everything would be ok. After awhile, the on-call doctor comes in (I was so disappointed it wasn’t my normal OB) and she says I need pitocin. I was so confused – I was dilated 3 cm and 90% effaced so why did I need pitocin? Long story short, I said ok just give me the smallest dosage.

The pitocin worked a little too well and within 3 hours I was having full on excruciating contractions and 6 cm dilated. I hadn’t gotten an epidural yet because I wanted to move around, and I didn’t think labor would progress so quickly, but I realized I needed it ASAP so the anesthesiologist came within a few minutes… and when I say getting that epidural put in was as painful as the contractions, I mean it. Ooooooph it was awful. And even after it was administered, I was still in pain and felt a ton of pressure. I asked a nurse to see what was going on and she said “You need to start pushing in the next minute!” I was shocked! Everything was happening sooooooo fast. They got the anesthesiologist back in to administer more of whatever the magical pain killer stuff is, because I finally was pain free right before I needed to push. The on call OB and her team of nurses got to work within minutes, setting up everything they needed.

So now it was time to push. I had no idea what I was doing. What and how and where am I pushing? This is so strange but I want this baby out, I thought to myself. So Joel was holding my left hand (and my left leg up) and I pushed. Something took over and I just thought about every muscle working in my body to get this baby out. The doctor had me push on my side for a few pushes and then rolled me back over on my back. I pushed for 30 minutes. I remember every moment of this so vividly. She told me to take a huge deep breath, hold my breath as I push, and when I’m done pushing to breathe out. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever physically done. But then, I felt the relief of the baby being out, and heard that first cry at 5:07 AM on Sunday, February 28th.

Oh. My. God.

She’s here.

She’s on my chest. She’s screaming and crying. She’s covered in vernix. I hold her close. I can’t believe it. She’s here. My angel baby is here. My Nadia Fern.

I get to hold her for almost an hour. Joel and I are soaking in every precious inch of her. She starts breastfeeding, and everything I wanted for so long was happening. Praise God.

They take her to check her vitals and her blood sugar was low so they gave her some gloopy sugar thing from a tube. She’s screaming the entire time they’re doing her vitals, but when the nurses were done, they brought her back to me quickly and she immediately calmed down once we were back being skin to skin. I never want to let you go, I thought.

After a little while we are moved to the mother and baby department where typically, the parents and baby settle in for two or three nights and then get discharged.

Except that’s not how this story goes.

The rest of her day of birth (Sunday) is spent with tons of nurses and doctors coming in and out, paperwork, and then breastfeeding, pumping, and bottle feeding with donor milk every three hours (this is called triple feeding and it is extremely strenuous). Oh yeah, Joel and I had been awake for over 24 hours at this point. But we are soaking it all in, because our angel baby was here. The stitches, ooooh they hurt. My stomach and back muscles were so sore from pushing. Every inch of my body was exhausted and spent, but I couldn’t help but smile because my Nadia was here.

Sunday comes and goes, and Monday evening rolls around. The nurses take Nadia to do some sort of standard testing and say she’d be back by 6 pm for her feeding. Well it’s 6:05, then 6:10, then 6:15 pm and they still aren’t back. I ask Joel to go find out where they are.

That’s when a new nurse comes in and everything changed.

I started worrying because something felt off. The nurse said they were doing routine checks with Nadia, when all of a sudden her heart rate and oxygen levels plummeted. They had to hover the oxygen mask over her face for her to “come back.” Because of this “event” they were going to immediately admit her to the NICU.

I began to uncontrollably sob.

My worst fear was that something would be wrong with her being born so early, but everything up to this moment seemed fine.

Joel was asking the nurses questions and they were talking but all I could do was cry. I didn’t know what was happening. My soul was crushed.

They put me in a wheelchair and we rolled to the NICU. They started hooking up Nadia right away. Even as I type this I’m overcome with sadness and remember the fear and heartbreak I felt.

The next day (Tuesday), they start running all sorts of tests on Nadia to find out why this “event” happened. The doctors said that for her to be able to be discharged, she needed to not have any “events” happen for 48 hours. If she had an “event” then the clock would restart for when she could come home.

So we prayed. We prayed and prayed and asked our closest people to pray hard over Nadia.

I remember being discharged on that Tuesday March 2nd, leaving the hospital without my baby girl. It was one of the hardest moments leaving without her with us. I sobbed like never before.

Every night for the next 5 nights, Nadia had an “event” where she stopped breathing and needed stimulation to breathe on her own again. Every morning we would get the call that she’d need to stay another night, and another night, and another night.

I was devastated for every moment of those 6 days and nights.

We spent every day in the NICU so I could be with her as much as possible. We scrubbed in (washing hands and arms and under fingernails and copious amounts of sanitizer). We had a 6 ft cubicle type area with curtains. This is how we spent the first week getting to know our baby (plus face masks thanks to COVID). With the grace of God, we got through it. A huge part of what got us through it was because our good friend Mia let us stay in her guest room during the day as she was close by to the hospital whereas our house was a 30 minute drive. Because of her generosity, we got to take breaks in between NICU visits, and I was able to do triple feedings at the hospital several times a day. It was so important that I breastfed her as much as possible and while triple feedings was absolutely draining, I did it (and for weeks after). She also had high levels of jaundice, so we were limited in holding her on the days she needed to be under the lights (which made it even harder for us).

Side note: NICU nurses are actually angels on earth. Every nurse was absolutely incredible, caring and so helpful. I’m forever grateful to the special women that worked to keep Nadia healthy + safe while she was in the NICU.

After a ridiculous amount of tests, the docs said the reason for these “events” happening was just because she was born early and she wasn’t a fully developed baby before she was born (which is good news actually because the alternative would be that she was sick with something).

I remember that Saturday morning, March 6th, Joel and I headed to the hospital with a 90% assurance that Nadia would be coming home with us. But after all of the previous false hopes, I wasn’t sure and didn’t want to be disappointed again. But the docs finally gave us the good news that we’d get to take her home within the next few hours. I was ecstatic. I cried happy tears, praised the Lord, and told my Nadia that we’d be going home together as a family. We dressed her up, packed her in the car seat, loaded her up, and screamed with joy.

She was home. Finally.