When Zoey was conceived, Kevin was a SSgt in the United States Air Force. We were living in a two bedroom townhouse on Scott Air Force Base. I was working for a real estate company, and we had been married for 9 months. We were both really excited and could not wait to start our family.
Everything was going along great with my pregnancy. I was super sick for the first month and a half, and couldn't keep anything down. I remember being in the car on the way to work and just praying that I would make it there in time to avoid puking in my car. Then we had the 20 week ultrasound. "It's a girl!" we were told. "See the hamburger?" Yes, that's how we were told that our firstborn was a girl. But then, the tech seemed to be taking her time, making more measurements, squinting her eyes. Panic set in. And we left.
At the next appointment, we discussed the results of the ultrasound, and that's when we found out that our daughter had a condition called Hydronephrosis. Basically, one of her kidneys was larger than the other and had fluid in it. The doctor explained that it was nothing to worry about and that she could outgrow it, but that we should have regular ultrasounds for the remainder of the pregnancy and a follow-up ultrasound after she was born to check the dilation. And even though the doctor had said not to worry, I immediately did. Regardless of the extremity of the condition, I had just found out that my daughter could suffer outside of the womb.
After continued ultrasound monitoring (which ended up being a blessing because I was able to see my baby 3 more times before she was born), we were told that there was no change, which was a good thing. I felt relieved and was finally able to stop worrying about her.
I visited labor and delivery several times the week leading up to her birth....all times for contractions that were leading nowhere. I know now, that those contractions were NOTHING!! Then, on a Sunday evening, my contractions began to pick up their intensity and frequency. I was 38 weeks and 6 days. By midnight, after hours of contractions, and my wonderful husband's tricks to try and help ease my pain, I was ready to head to the hospital. Contractions were roughly 5 minutes apart, and radiating from my back around. Back labor...yay me!!
When I got settled in my room, and they checked me, we received the glorious news that I had progressed to 5 cm and that we would be having the baby soon!! I got up and walked the halls, and swayed around my room. By the time I reached 7 cm, the tears were flowing, and the inevitable, it's now or never opportunity came for the epidural. I was scared, and my husband and mom both convinced me that I was worn out and could use the relief, since 8 hours and passed and I was still several more away. The epidural needle petrified me, but in the end, it was extremely bearable. Within minutes, I was snoozing. A few hours later, the nurses came in to tell me that my labor was slowing down (a side effect of the epidural) and that they needed to give me a drug called pitocin to speed the contractions back up. They also explained that during a contraction, the baby's heart rate would slow down and they needed to use an internal fetal monitor. Everything was happening all at once, and I felt like I was loosing control. I rested some more, and they came in and told me that it was finally time to push.
I pushed, and pushed, and pushed, for over two hours, without any progress. No one was telling me much of anything other than she was positioned wrong and wouldn't descend. The doctor came in and told me that if she didn't come out soon, they would have to take me for an emergency c-section because she was loosing oxygen. In a last ditch effort, the doctor came in and hooked up the vacuum extractor to help me with pushing. The first push, the vacuum popped off Zoey's head. And the second....however, the second time was much worse than the first, and there was a lot of blood. The third, and final time the vacuum was used, we were able to get her out.
I didn't see her, there was no crying. She was rushed to an incubator across the room and 5 people (or more) swarmed around her. Minutes later she was rolled out of the room. I hadn't held my daughter. I hadn't even seen her. My husband looked worried. My mother was in a chair with her head in her hands. I was told that i had been given a partial episiotomy and had torn the rest of the way and that they would need to repair the damage. So, as I lay there, helpless, no one was saying anything about our daughter.
I remember getting up off the table to go take a shower, and halfway to the bathroom I collapsed on the floor. I was weak. I couldn't walk. It was then that I found out that I had lost a lot of blood, and would need to rest and use a wheelchair until my blood supply was regained. While I was in the shower, a nurse came to get my mom and Kevin to take them to Zoey. We still knew nothing except she was in the NICU, and my mom saw her when she was born and she was blue. I couldn't see her yet. I was so messed up on the inside, and my heart ached.
When they got me to my recovery room, my mom and Kevin came back and explained to me that Zoey was on 100% oxygen. She wasn't breathing on her own. She also had a hemotoma on her head the size of a softball. When the vacuum popped off her head, it tore off part of her scalp and caused a fluid filled sac to form. There was worry of brain damage and impairments. They both looked defeated. I was crushed. I did the only thing I could do, and from deep inside my heart, I cried out to God.
When I was finally able to be wheeled down to the NICU, I was so excited to see her. Friends of mine had come and gone, and they had seen my daughter before me. I was not prepared for what I would see, or that I wouldn't be able to hold her. I felt like there was nothing I could do. So I sat there and just watched her.
The next 24 hours were torture, but when they finally took her off the oxygen, and I was able to hold her, it was the most amazing experience. I was still in a lot of pain, but I sat there just holding her as long as I could. We were told that the worst was over, and I realized that this little 8 lb 5 oz bundle of joy was my little miracle. God had answered my prayers, and had completely healed my baby girl.
We have many baby pictures which show Zoey's scar on her head....a reminder to us how God saved our little girl. And now, 7 years and 3 months later, she is still my little miracle. She amazes me every day of her life. God saved her for a very, very special purpose....to save my soul. I can't wait to see what else he has in store for her :)
Jenn-one proud mama
2 comments:
I remember that day! I left my two week old little boy with my mother to come see you. Erica and I went in to the NICU together. Zoey had the blackest hair. She was in the incubator with the oxygen. Kevin looked so worried and defeated. You were obviously. distressed. I hated leaving you there. God has certainly taken good care of sweet Zoey. She is a compassionate, whip smart, beautiful girl. I can see the amazing woman she will be one day. I am blessed to know her from the beginning.
Thanks Bridget! I was so glad to have friends like you during that time :) And yes, Zoey is great....I think she'd a keeper!!
Post a Comment