I've been putting off this post. I haven't wanted to write it for many, many reasons. First off, it's painful to think about. I hate myself for everything I put my husband through. Second, it's hard to put the past few weeks into words because so much of the first 10 days are quite hazy. Third, I don't like the idea of having to talk about one of the best days of my life and in the same breath admit it was unfortunately connected to the worst evening of my husband's life. So here it is. It's not going to be eloquently written. The time line won't even be clear because I was so medicated or sedated and my husband doesn't like to talk about it. But I'm just going to put it out there, as I recall it, or as it's been told to me, because like everything on this blog, it's a part of our history as a family. This blog started as our family did, with a wedding and the purchase of our first home. And this is the post about how it almost ended.
Tuesday Night December 20, 2011
I sat in bed, writing in my journal as I do every night. I knew the next morning brought 39 weeks, and that was when I went into labor with my daughter. With her I was going to be induced but arrived to find out I was actually in labor. I just didn't know I was having contractions. I hoped the next day, when I hit 39 weeks with my second pregnancy, the same would happen. But a thought occurred to me. And I told Barker that should I not make it, I wanted him to print this blog so that even if Audrey didn't remember me, she'd know that I spent every day of her life making sure she was happy and healthy. I also told him that he wasn't to throw anything of mine away. If he up and married some trashy cocktail waitress a few weeks later and she wanted my crap out of 'her' house then he was to pack up everything that was mine and my dad would make sure it was stored properly until Audrey was old enough to go through it all, in her 20's. A morbid thought? Perhaps. But I like to be prepared for the worst. Barker said I worry too much and dismissed me.
Wednesday Morning December 21, 2011
Audrey was playing at a friend's house. Barker and I met my bestie Johanna at the closest hospital. I was 39 weeks along and hoping to have a baby. Sadly, so were 7.1 million other women in the Frisco area. So even though I was in labor and having contractions 8 minutes apart, they kept making me sit in the waiting room while hugely pregnant women bearing down on pencils were wheeled off the elevator. Guess I should have overacted a bit and maybe they would have put me in a room sooner. The hospital is nice, but small. 7 beds. So they started turning women away. My doctor, who will forever be known as 'Our Hero' in this house, wouldn't let them turn me away for fear that I'd have the baby on the tollway between Frisco and Plano. They finally got me a room and continued to send other women elsewhere. I later heard they delivered 14 babies that day, to those 7 beds, and had a total of 25 in the nursery.
They take me back, contractions are something like 7 minutes apart and I'm at a 5. We look for something to watch on the TV. Nothing was on apart from some kid moving with talking puppies that was so awful we'd all rather watch me push. My doctor came back, broke my water, I told him that was not what we had talked about. I wanted my epidural, then he could break my water, then the baby could make his way out. He laughed. He thought I was joking. I was not. He pokes me with a stick. Water broken. Another contraction. Then I wanted to poke him with the stick. Ouch. Where was the epidural? Turns out all those other women wanted epidurals too. Ugh! It was like being stuck in traffic when you had to pee and were just trying to make it off the next exit which was a few yards away. If those other women would just get out of my way, let me have my epidural, I'd push this baby out in a few minutes and be out of their way.
Drugs finally show up. Took her FOREVER. And I'm pretty sure it didn't work. With my daughter I didn't feel a thing. Which is why I didn't know this time what a contraction was. But even after the epidural I felt this birth. I asked if I could push. They checked and said 'Yep, you're at a ten. Push when you feel the need.' Jo snapped a pic of my husband holding my hand, the picture has a clock in the background. 3:45 pm. I push what I thought was 3 times, Jo thinks it was 4, doesn't matter. Either way 3 minutes later at 3:48pm Hudson O'Ryan came screaming into this world. Pure joy!
That's right, a scream! My daughter had squeaked instead of screaming and it scared us. But my son screamed. They put him on my chest, my hubby cut the cord and we were all shocked at how much he looked like our daughter.
Except for one thing. He was blond! Say what?! She was born with dark hair, it fell out, she was bald, then when her little feathers came back they were that dish water blond color so many kids have. So we thought 'Maybe he'll look like Audrey, but with dark hair.' But we were surprised when he came out with her hair color and all. Everything was so similar we couldn't help but laugh! They both have my hands, my birth mark, my ears and as they cleaned him up and took all his measurements they found my kids were born the same size! He had the most beautiful skin I'd ever seen. Oh, I was obsessed with him from the minute he arrived. They stamped his feet onto a scrub top for their daddy and I knew right away he had Audrey's feet, too! Amazing! Or, at least to someone that's adopted, I found it all amazing.
We call my friend that has my daughter and tell her to bring Audrey to the hospital to meet her brother before anyone else.
We're laughing and I tell the doctor I'm starving. I hadn't eaten in nearly 24 hours, since dinner the night before, and I'd love some spam and eggs. (Breakfast is my fav meal.) He grew up in Hawaii and said he was raised on spam and eggs. Everyone else thought we were crazy and gross to even be discussing it, much less wanting to eat it. But my dad lived in Hawaii until I was in High School and he still makes dishes with a Hawaiian influence here in Texas.
A few more minutes pass, pictures are taken and my doc is still trying to get the placenta to deliver. The slowest doctor ever tries to take the epidural out of my back. I roll to my side and am suddenly in more pain. No more laughing. I look at Barker with the baby and he's smiling, he can't see me from the angle he's at. I think to yell to him but don't want to take him away from the baby. He looked so happy. Then life as we know it forever changed.
I hear a noise I won't describe, the words hemorrhage being shouted, my doc shouting that we're moving to the OR. He calls for another doctor, or maybe two. I think he yelled two names. He looks at me in my eyes. He's no longer tan like you'd expect him to be after hearing about how he grew up in Hawaii. He just looked scared. And genuinely concerned. He told me my uterus had inverted and he was going to have to open me up. And then the worst, that he'd probably have to do a hysterectomy. Yes, I know hemorrhage should have scared me more than hysterectomy but it didn't. The thought of not being able to be pregnant again was the worst thing I could imagine. I pleaded with him to not do that to me. I don't remember seeing my husband or telling him goodbye but I remember thinking that if I lost my uterus he wouldn't think of me as being a woman. Weird, if my doc found a lump in my breast I'd say 'Hack 'em off.' Who cares? The only thing I'd be sad about was not being able to nurse again. But lose my uterus? No. This just couldn't happen. Not to me. Then I don't remember anything for a while. Only less than a minute, but there is a spot missing there. Next I remember a split second of being wheeled in a hallway or elevator, maybe. Then another blank spot. Then a white room.
Another doc is there. He has bright blue eyes and his hair is covered. A surgeon. I tell my doc that I can feel and he tells me he's gonna knock me out now. I beg him again to try his best to save it, my uterus, not me. I know by his eyes that he will do his best. Then it's time to go to sleep. I know I can't fight it. No matter what I do I cannot stay awake. So I close my eyes and my last thought isn't of my husband (I didn't know where he was but I'll forever feel guilty that I wasn't thinking of him) or of my son (that I never got to hold) but of my daughter's beautiful face, she was my world. And my last thought before I fell asleep was "I'll never see Audrey again." Then nothing. Drugs and blood loss took their toll.
During this time my daughter is in the parking lot, on her way up to meet her brother. Just 3 1/2 years old and has no idea what's happening to her mommy. My friend Jo meets her and brings her up. My husband had no idea where to go. He tried to follow into the OR but my doc stopped him and swore he'd be out to update him as soon as he could. Barker wandered back into the room where we had just celebrated the birth of our son. He was gone. All that was left was my blood. And lots of it. He stood there, in shock, not knowing what to do. A nurse tells him he needs to bathe the baby, feed the baby. He doesn't want to. She's fully capable. He had to know what was going on with me. And get to our daughter. But because of security measures he couldn't take the baby out to the waiting room to meet his sister. And there was no room for Audrey to go to.
And so I missed a moment I'll never get back. A moment I'd dreamed about a hundred times over the past year. I wasn't there when my children met. Audrey had to meet 'her baby' as she calls him, through a window.
She looked back over her shoulder at Johanna who was level headed enough to snap a pic and Audrey said "That's my baby." Proud big sister. Barker held him on the other side of the glass but he wanted to be holding Audrey. Hudson had no idea what was going on, Barker wanted to comfort and be comforted by our daughter. Most people look at this picture and think it's so sweet. I see it and hurt because I know the agony my husband was in but had to put on a brave face for Audrey.
My husband was able to call my dad. But he couldn't tell him what happened. Just that the baby was here and fine but there were complications with me. Johanna had to take our phones and call my mom and younger brother. Then all they could do was wait. And this began the worst evening of my husband's life. He's said he'll forever be grateful that I asked Johanna to bring her nice camera and take pics of Hudson's birth. Because there were tears. And had she not been there he would have been all alone. I will forever hate myself for putting him through that. The thought of what he went through is so hard to bear.
And then it was sit and wait. I'm lost on the time frame here. I don't know where my daughter was, what happened to Johanna. How long before my family arrived. But I know Barker sat and waited at the end of a long hallway until my doctor emerged. He finally walked toward my husband who said it was like in the movies. Everything goes quiet and you feel all the blood leave your body. My doctor looked around and told him they needed to step into a more private area. And that was it. My husband thought he was about to hear the worst, "I'm sorry. We did everything we could but she didn't make it. We couldn't stop the bleeding." I don't know why he pulled him away, I obviously survived, but he told him he was tyring everything he could to put me back together and keep blood in me but he was 85% sure I was going to lose my uterus. At some point during the night he came back out and told him I had lost something like 2/3rds of my blood. 5 units. He put 4 back in. And on the very last try he managed to save my uterus. It was ripped apart, inside out, you name it, it went through it. But he had done it. He somehow managed to force it back. The placenta was ripped off and sent to a pathologist. And the questions began.
Sometime later my family made it. My dad had the bad idea of asking what room I was in so the poor guy had to walk into ICU and find me in critical condition. Never in my life did I think I'd be listed in critical condition or in ICU. But he had to see my colorless unconscious body hooked up to machines and numerous IVs. Oh, and a morphine drip. God Bless the morphine drip.
So people saw me in ICU, great. Barker said it crossed his mind that I'd want to see and would have wanted him to take a picture but he never wanted to have to think of it again so he refused to take said picture. Fine by me. I'm sure I'd just be even more embarrassed people saw me like that.
First thing I remember is seeing Barker at the end of my bed. I tried to ask if they had saved it. But I couldn't speak. They'd shoved a tube down my throat. My lips were so dry. When I was finally able to speak the drugs made it impossible to complete a sentence more than 5 words with out forgetting where I was going with it. So frustrating. So I had to whisper as loudly as I could my question in a few short words like "Did they save it?" He said yes but he looked so upset. Like the was hiding something. So I didn't believe him. I wanted to know what was wrong, then. If they saved it, then why did everyone look so terrified, so upset? I asked if the baby was OK. They said yes. Everyone kept saying the baby was prefect and the most beautiful baby they'd ever seen. I'm sure I asked a few other things. The surgeon came to see me and would just laugh which pissed me off. He thought I was being loopy and I knew what I was tyring to say but was getting angry they wouldn't read my lips if they couldn't hear me. They kept making me repeat with my zero voice and I was well beyond mad when he finally took off. Dr. long hair and blue eyes. Barker wouldn't get that look off his face so I remember finally asking him what was wrong then? Did I have a stroke or something? Did I have brain damage? I tried moving all my limbs.
But then food came to mind. Could I please eat? I had to make milk! Hudson hadn't latched! He had to latch with in the first hour! Had he eaten?! Someone tells me that it's not possible for me to nurse this time. That my body will not make milk because I had lost so much blood and had to make more on my own. Something about being anemic. Barker had been giving him bottles in the nursery. Bottles! And a paci! Good God! Why can't the man read my mind? Still, I didn't buy it. I wanted a pump. I figured even if I could only pump a bottle a day and he never latched, a bottle was better than nothing. But due to Barker's lovely hidden traits like allergies I HAVE to nurse my babies. It's not about saving money on formula for me. My kids need breast milk. So who ever told me I wasn't making milk could blow up. I wanted to talk to someone else. (Can you tell the meds were making me even meaner than usual?) So these lactation broads came in. They're normally Nazis and live to teach people to nurse so I thought 'finally! Someone who will reason with them!' But no. They tried to 'break it to me' that making milk was 'highly unlikely' for me because of everything I went through. They said that had I been in a car wreck at 20 weeks my body would abort the baby and focus on fixing myself first. So no milk would be made, just blood. Bull! They couldn't convince me of that crap. I demanded a pump. And food. And water. I got a pump and someone put ice chips next to the bed. I hustled everyone that stepped foot in the room for more ice chips. Even housekeeping I asked to put ice in my mouth. (I couldn't use my hands. The IVs had my movements restricted. But they should have tied me down cause I hit 2 nurses for messing with me. Jerks.)
Anyway- other things I remember from ICU...a nurse named Elijah. Beautiful voice. Didn't hurt me. Barker being in a chair on the left side of the room for a few minutes here and there before he'd have to go back up and feed the baby. That's how I found out where I was. I assumed I was in the room you stay in for a day. A day was my plan. Not 5. Not even 2. But coming in and out of meds I saw the clock and realized it said 3 something and I had the baby at 3 something. So it was either 3am or 3pm the next day. I'm still not sure. But they wouldn't bring me my son. Barker would go up and take videos and pics on his phone and bring them back to me. Now they make me cry to see them. I also remember Barker smelling like coffee. He didn't eat for days. He just walked back and forth across the hospital in shock, from coffee maker to coffee maker. By the time he went back to work 2 weeks later he weighed just 154 pounds. That's quite a loss.
At some point they told me I had an incision in the same area as a c section, but a little smaller and they hadn't cut into my uterus. But that I only had staples in case they had to go back in. It didn't dawn on me to ask why they'd go back in. Weeks later Barker told me that my doc didn't think the surgery would work and he gave my uterus 4 hours to act right and if it didn't he was going back in to take it out. Luckily it knew better than to cross me.
Thursday December 22, 2011
So much from this day is a blur. I found out later they gave me meds to make me have amnesia, basically. Most disappointing, I don't remember the first time I held my son. And I can't ever get that back. It's heart breaking and I'll regret that as long as I live. I just remember various images from the day. Audrey was there. The nurse, Elijah, giving her chocolate ice cream. She was in last year's clothes that didn't come close to fitting cause my dad didn't know which drawers to look in. She had scrubs on top of them. Her pink big sister scrubs.
My tongue hurt like I'd bitten it a thousand times. Jo was back. She came in the room quiet as a mouse and looked petrified. She said I looked beautiful and frail. Pale. But that she had to see for herself that I was alive. She also said 'I managed to take pics and not see any of your lady bits, but then I saw your uterus and you're much prettier on the outside than the inside.' ha!
I think she also took pics that day. Someone did. I have pics of Audrey and Johanna's twins holding Hudson. Audrey kissing him. And me holding him.
I remember not wanting to scare the girls so I took the oxygen mask off and covered my arms (full of IVs) under blankets and pillows. At least, I think this all took place Thursday. It could have been Friday. I'm not 100%. But I do know that Thursday is when I was reminded why I love our friend Jay.
Before Barker and I were dating, when we were just acquaintances, I was better friends with his room mate Jay. Jay's girlfriend still lived in Louisiana at the time so he had time to kill and my boyfriend at the time was always off with trashy girls so I had time on my hands, too. So we became fast friends. That's why I turned to him when above mentioned boyfriend finally gave me the boot. And that put me in Barker's path. He's always been a good friend to us and on Thursday he cemented a place in my heart. He's the only person to show up and be there for Barker, not to see me. The one who needed someone. I was medicated and didn't know much of what was going on. I was too loopy to be upset or get the gravity of the whole situation. But Barker was having a horrible time coping and no one was there for him, to make him eat, to hug him, to tell him everything would be OK, that I'd make it out of this just fine, to make him sleep, to sit with me so he could take a shower or check on Audrey. Other than the few minutes after it happened when Jo was still there, he was all alone and in shock. But finally Jay walked through the door with food and made him eat. It was the first time I'd eaten since Tuesday night. The first time he had since Wednesday morning. I don't think Jay realized what he was walking into or how much it meant to me that someone cared enough for Barker to come to the hospital in support of him, but my heart swelled. He really needed someone, some support, and Jay pulled through....with Mexican food and gifts, no less. And as a plus, his wife showed up a little while later and even brushed my hair for me. How nice is that? I've always been in awe of her because she didn't care a bit that her boyfriend was friends with me, who she'd never met. I could never be so understanding. I'm too insecure. But she was fine with it. And then all these years later she was brushing my hair for me since I couldn't lift my arms.
This night I think my dad and Barker stayed the night in my room, once I was out of ICU. I must have been drugged or I could have never other wise slept through my dad's snoring. I believe Audrey was with Johanna and her girls. I didn't have my phone most of the time which was probably a good thing. But at some point during the stay Barker gave it to me and I saw pictures Jo took of Audrey at the park with her friends, taking a big bubble bath, having a sleep over, etc.
I feel so blessed to have friends that can take my daughter and know how to keep her happy, what she'll eat, what size clothes she wears, etc and that Audrey can trust enough to have fun with and not panic and get home sick. Audrey was the last thing we needed to worry about, and due to wonderful people in our lives, we didn't have to.
Friday December 23, 2011
I think Jo came back up on Friday. Audrey was in all new clothes. My friend Erica also came up. I don't remember speaking to either of them except that Erica had neon green on her shoes. Erica showered Audrey and Hudson with gifts during this ordeal, which made Audrey feel special. I had also packed several gifts from various friends for Audrey and some gifts from 'her brother' and they came in handy since we were there much longer than the planned 24 hours.
Flowers also showed up by this point. Several deliveries. Fresh cut flowers remind me of my grandmother that owned a Floral Shop when I was a child. I love that smell. I vaguely remember the nurse coming in from labor and delivery. She wanted to see how I was doing. I told her they were making me walk to the bathroom, with help of course and that it hurt worse than I could have ever imagined. If I was cut similar to a c section, how did people CHOOSE to have c sections, rather than push? She said I was in so much pain because I was bruised internally from my chest, all the way down. That my doctors had shoved everything around. Nice.
This is also the day Barker thinks Hudson got the big snip. I have no memory of it at all. Sorry Hud.
Saturday Christmas Eve 2011
My family came up for Christmas Eve lunch. My brother and his wife live 3 miles from me. Since I would have been too far along to travel had I not had the baby, his wife offered to cook and have lunch at their house this year in stead of mine, which was nice. Then I had the baby so they just moved the lunch to my hospital room! It was great! We didn't have to clean and my sister in law is a great cook! I had no idea. I've had things she'd made before but an entire Christmas dinner, well it tasted like some one's Nana made it. Delish! We exchanged gifts, my hubby snapped some pics, and Audrey's teacher came by with sweets. I thought that was so nice. How many preschool teachers would spend Christmas eve with a student's family?
I think this was also the morning that my friends Jane and Jeannie came up, but I can't be sure. I do remember when Jane came in a nurse was there pressing on my stomach (by this time it didn't hurt as badly so I had stopped hitting nurses) and I asked the nurse if she wouldn't mind helping me into a shower. She was my favorite nurse of my entire stay. Up until this ordeal I had been very modest. My husband doesn't even hear me pee. That's right, he's not allowed to hear me pee. We luckily have four bathrooms in our house so this has never been a problem. But now that I couldn't move on my own, I needed a nurse or I'd have to ask Barker. And I just couldn't. So she was nice enough to drag me through all the pain the few feet to the shower. You see, I knew enough of what was going on to know it was Saturday.
I had Audrey on a Wednesday and on Saturday in the shower my milk came in. So I'd been pumping and drinking water non stop since I got out of ICU. My plan all along was to get in that shower Saturday and see if it worked, again. If not I had already lined up a milk donor. I know that would probably gross out some of you but I don't care what anyone other than my husband and kids think about me. So judge away. No one else gets a vote on what I feed my kids. If my milk didn't come in, he was gonna get it from somewhere. And I had it all lined up, even in my drug induced haze.
So the nurse helps me pee and we discuss that the adhesive on the bandage over my incision contained something I'm allergic to. Great. So I had blisters on my tummy. Awesome. She held me while I brushed my teeth and helped me into the shower. I told her I would do it but I could only wash my arms. So she was kind enough to wash my back and legs for me. I sat under the hot water and what do you know, my milk came in. So much for my body taking care of me instead of my baby. I'm a mom. 24 hours a day. That's my job. It's all I do. And I was going to have milk for my baby. I just knew it. I wasn't sure it would be a ton. And I didn't know how long it would last this time. But no one was going to take my ability to have babies or nurse. I just couldn't allow that.
The nurse put a new nightgown on me and those oh so sexy ginormous mesh underwear and put me back into bed. My friend Jane came back in (Jane is Johanna's best friend from undergrad and now my friend, too) and the nurse again checked on my tummy since my doc was on his way to see me. She commented that I was already skinny and didn't get any stretch marks. (See why she was my fav nurse?) I joked with my doctor that I was fine with diet and exercise to get skinny again. He really didn't need to help me out by removing my uterus and blood. Then in my drug induced state I tattled on Jane and told the nurse that when I was big and pregnant Jane gave me a shirt as a joke that said 'I used to be HOT!' Jane was embarrassed but the shirt is quite funny and actually in reference to the stupid hot summer we had this past year.
That night I wanted Christmas eve to seem as normal as possible for Audrey. She was starting to show strain from being bounced around, no nap in 4 days and us being in the hospital. So Barker left me for a little while to go home and shower, change, and take Audrey to the candle light service at church. He dressed her in a lovely red smocked bishop dress, black tights that didn't match (which is fine cause he's a daddy) and white shoes in stead of the red ones. Again, he tried and she looked precious.
They had a nice time and came back up after. Jay also came back on Christmas Eve. He brought us Christmas dinner. How nice is that? A turkey and the whole nice yards. So when we got home on Christmas day we wouldn't have to cook but could still have a yummy, traditional Christmas. Again, I can never thank Jay and his wife Repsie enough for their support during this time.
I remember Hudson sleeping in his turtle tank in the corner that night and hoping we could be discharged in the morning before Audrey woke up. She's no fool. She knew Santa was on the way.
Sunday Christmas Day
They saved the worst for last. The last nurse I had didn't want to be there Christmas eve and Christmas morning and she took it out on me. And yay for me, she got to take out my staples! I got really pissed at her the night before for messing with me when I was trying to nurse and snapping at my dad, but by that morning I had had enough and was ready to throw her out the window....if only I could move with out being in immense pain. She ripped out my staples, told me I didn't need any pain med and all around did her best to ruin my day. But no one could. Cause it was 6am on Christmas and I was bound and determined to get out of that room and home to my daughter! I HAD to see her face when she saw all that Santa brought her for being a good girl. And she was. The best.
We collected our things, got into a wheel chair and made the long trek down the hallway to freedom. When we stopped to have Hudson's security anklet cut off they told him Merry Christmas and gave him a stuffed dog and rattle. Super cute and soft. The dog was special because in the chaos Hudson had received the typical 2nd child treatment. When we had Audrey, Barker went to the gift shop and bought her a big stuffed dog, Oliver. He's white and gray and super soft. She takes her time line pics with him and he sleeps at the foot of her bed. With all that happened Barker hadn't had time to think about the gift shop. He was too busy writing down every time Hudson ate, which side he ate off of, when he pooped, when he peed, when I'd had meds, when I'd pumped, etc etc etc. So this dog became Hudson's time line dog. His name is David. After my doctor. Our hero.
We made our way to the valet and headed home. We got to spend Christmas morning with our sweet girl and see the look on her face when she found her Power Wheels car, her iPad, and way too many other toys to list. But her favorites were a spin brush and piglet toy.
Santa brought me a super cute diaper bag, a Willow Tree Statue to commemorate Hudson, a diamond band (also a baby tradition like the Willow Tree) and Barker scored a new coffee maker, watch, iPod, briefcase, kitchen gadgets and clothes. Hudson got a baby's first Christmas silver ornament and toys. Audrey shared her toys with Hudson even though Santa brought him plenty as well.
Audrey's teacher from last year came to visit. Again, I was shocked. We had a lovely lunch and started about healing.
Aftermath
Once we were home we realized so many things would never be the same. For one, we all slept down stairs in the front guest room. I couldn't climb the stairs and Audrey missed us so much that we all slept in that room, our family of four. Second, my modesty went out the window. I realized that Barker had seen my uterus, what more pride did I have to lose? The poor guy then spent the next week or two giving me baths, dressing me, keeping track of every thing the baby and I did, even shaving my legs for me because I couldn't reach them. I already knew long ago that my husband is the greatest person I've ever known, but he chose to prove it again and again by taking care of me with out a complaint as if I were an infant. I know we said 'in sickness and in health' but I always thought I would be taking care of him. I never thought I'd nearly die and be left so weak from blood loss that I couldn't take care of myself. And he never seemed tired or put out. In fact, he's a great nurse. He might have missed his calling.
Guests came and went over the next week or two. For a while it hurt so badly to walk that I would only do so when people were here. If we were alone Barker pushed me from the room to the living room in the office chair. ha! God Bless wood floors.
I don't remember much thanks to all the pain meds except for Audrey chasing her older cousin Beck with a bat on Boxing day, my friend Melissa being nice enough to come up and take newborn pictures...
...and then nothing for the next few days other than Barker having his wisdom teeth removed. It was the only time he could get in with the surgeon. It was set up long before my catastrophe. Whoa. Bad idea.
Thursday December 29, 2011
We only thought we were on the way to healing. I decided on Wednesday when I realized he was a week old and I didn't remember much about the week that I was going to deal with the pain and be off the drugs. I can't even take NyQuil with out being drunk. So I rarely take drugs. And I can't drink. Forget about it. My body just doesn't take to meds well. Cough syrup is like LSD to me. I was sick of not being able to remember much, of being so tired (which I didn't realize was from blood loss) and not feeling like myself. So I quit taking meds other than iron and vitamins.
My friends Lacy and V brought lunch and frozen meals. I had noticed something was wrong with my arm Wednesday night. My vein is hard as a rock and bumpy from my wrist up to my shoulder. So before they arrived I called my doc and left a message for the nurse telling her what was going on and what I should do. I thought she'd call back and tell me to put a warm compress on it or something. Of course not. This is me we're talking about. My doctor calls back and tells me to get to the emergency room. Ugh! I was off the meds and already emotional. Being off the pain pills made me clear headed enough to grasp what had happened to me, finally, and what I had put Barker thorough and I was a wreck. And still am. I don't think a day has passed that I haven't cried over what happened to us. But this made me panic. My friends walked in and I had to ask them to stay with the kids. That was the hardest thing I've ever done, saying goodbye to both kids to go back to that same hospital. But I kissed them goodbye and we left.
We get to the ER. They start to put in all of my info and then when my file pulls up in the system the nurse looks at me and says 'That was you?! You kept everyone on their toes. People came down here to the ER to tell us what was going on with you. You were in good hands. They brought in doctors from big hospitals.' Not exactly what I wanted to be famous for. Another nurse draws blood which I think is stupid because for one, I just paid a thousand dollars for that blood to be put in and two, it's not even mine. It's probably the blood of some frat boy that needed beer money. I'm so past tired of being a pin cushion.
But here were are, at the ER. And we hear blood clots. Nightly shots. For a month. At least. Great. Just great. As if I hadn't put my dear husband though enough now he's being forced to give me extremely painful shots every single night. Some nights they hurt so badly I think I'm going to vomit. Others I burst out in tears when it burns so badly I don't think I can take it any longer. It's like this nightmare won't end. And for me, that's ok. I look at Hudson and honestly can say it's all worth it. And I'd do it again. Gladly. But it brakes my heart to know what I've put Barker through. He didn't deserve any of this. If only he had married some nice girl who's uterus and blood knows to stay inside her body.
Are You Really Still Reading This?
So here we are, three and a half weeks later. I'm finally starting to feel stronger every day. I'm still weak and tired but every day is a little better. I've left the house three times now that weren't to go to the hospital or our doctor's offices. I'm getting a little color back. My incision is much, much less painful. And much to my surprise, you can't see it. You can however see the bruises all over my stomach from the shots Barker gives me nightly. And I'm still crying about it all, but not as much. Little things hurt me. I heard a song that has the name in it that we would use if we had another girl and that broke me, to think we might not be able to have another child. It's way too early to know. The pathologist decided to call it a placenta accreta, even though he had never seen a placenta with out a uterus and I don't fit the bill....no prior c sections, no third trimester bleeding, and he wasn't born prematurely.
From the American Pregnancy Association:
Placenta accreta- The placenta normally attaches to the uterine wall, however there
is a condition that occurs where the placenta attaches itself too
deeply into the wall of the uterus. This condition is known as placenta
accreta, placenta increta, or placenta percreta depending on the severity
and deepness of the placenta attachment.
Placenta Accreta occurs when the placenta attaches
too deep in the uterine wall but it does not penetrate the uterine
muscle. Placenta accreta is the most common accounting for approximately
75% of all cases.
Placenta Increta occurs when the placenta attaches
even deeper into the uterine wall and does penetrate into the uterine
muscle. Placenta increta accounts for approximately 15% of all cases.
Placenta Percreta occurs when the placenta penetrates
through the entire uterine wall and attaches to another organ such
as the bladder. Placenta percreta is the least common of the three
conditions accounting for approximately 5% of all cases.
The specific cause of placenta accreta is unknown, but it can be
related to
placenta previa and previous
cesarean deliveries.
Placenta accreta is present in 5% to 10% of women with placenta previa.
A cesarean delivery increases the possibility of a future placenta
accreta, and the more cesareans, the greater the increase. Multiple
cesareans were present in over 60% of placenta accreta cases.
Premature delivery and subsequent complications are the primary concerns
for the baby. Bleeding during the third trimester may be a warning
sign that placenta accreta exists, and when placenta accreta occurs
it commonly results in a premature delivery. Your healthcare provider
will examine your condition and use medication, bed rest and whatever
else necessary to help continue the pregnancy towards full term.
The placenta usually has difficulty separating from the uterine wall.
The primary concern for the mother is hemorrhaging during manual attempts
to detach the placenta. Severe hemorrhaging can be life threatening.
Other concerns involve damage to the uterus or other organs (percreta)
during removal of the placenta. Hysterectomy is a common therapeutic
intervention, but the results involve the loss of the uterus and the
ability to conceive.
There is nothing a woman can do to prevent placenta accreta, and
there is little that can be done for treatment once placenta accreta
has been diagnosed. If you have been diagnosed with placenta accreta
your healthcare provider will monitor your pregnancy with the intent
of scheduling a delivery and using a surgery that may spare the uterus.
It is particularly important to discuss this surgery with your doctor
if you desire to have additional children.
So even though he didn't do a hysterectomy there is no guarantee we can have another baby. My doctor thinks it's probable I could get pregnant again but doesn't want to discuss it much for quite a while. He just said that if I can then I'd have to have a scheduled section (something that really burns me cause I have such quick and easy deliveries) and I'd have to retain the placenta. That's right, they'd leave the placenta if it happened again. Then I'd have to go to an oncologist and be on cancer drugs to remove the placenta. I don't know how long I could wait to do that, meaning how long I could nurse before I'd have to quit to do those drugs. But all of that is the least of our worries at the moment, but the hope of being able to at least try if we decide we want to is all I need to keep me going every day.
And some days are better than others. We moved back upstairs. Going into my room for the first time in two weeks was awful. Everything was laying out as if I'd never left. And it reminded me of when my grandmother passed and I went to her house years later with my dad. So many of her things were still there as if she would walk back in that day. And it hit me that losing 2/3rd of my blood, Barker came really close to having to face all of my things, knowing I'd never be back. The guilt I feel for what I nearly put him and the kids through is excruciating. I'm glad I'm off the meds and dealing with it, but it's awful. I have several friends that are nurses and they were all so scared because they knew just how bad it was. One said at the hospital she works at, they call what I went through 'The Widow Maker'...nice.
But all and all we're making it. We're all closer than we were before and that's something I didn't think was possible for us. I thought we were as close as any couple could be. And we're looking at some things differently now. Like my body, for example. I've never liked how I look. Probably a product of being adopted and not looking like anyone. I looked like Audrey until I was 4, then I looked like Pocahontas. And until I got too sick with morning sickness I was doing a 4:50am boot camp. I was torturing my body for not looking like it did when I was 19 and kid free. Now I look back and think 'I was a size 2 and stressing?! What was wrong with me?' No more. Sure, I'm 5 pounds heavier than I was when I got pregnant with Hudson but who cares. I will not punish my body for not being 19 ever again. Not after it rallied for me, when it could have given up and died.
My doctor told me 2 weeks after Hudson's birth that I'm only here today because I'm so young and healthy. I don't think that's true. I'm not over weight (like most of the US) I don't drink or do drugs, I've never even smoked a cigarette. And look what it got me. Nearly dead at 30. So I'm not sure I believe him. I think he's being modest. I think he's the reason I'm here today. But just in case my body being healthy and fighting back had something to do with it, I'm no longer going to bash it, criticize my abs in the mirror, or complain about it. Sure, it doesn't look exactly like it did ten years ago....but to be honest, it's close enough. So I've decided to be happy at my current weight of 125 pounds (even though before Hudson I loathed being over 117lbs) grateful that it fought for me, thankful for the two babies it gave me, and be kind to it for as long as I have it.
Also learned that my friends can cook! Whoa! We've had people bring over the most delicious home made dinners. My friend Jane used to work for a Senator and made something she had at the Capital called Senate Bean Soup. Oh my word. It was divine. Also found out Jason's Deli delivers! Out here in Prosper! Woo Hoo! As if the flowers weren't enough people started sending edible arrangements, too! And people have gone to the grocery store for us, picked Audrey up from school for me, and Barker's boss let him take lots of time off and work from home! I've been totally overwhelmed by the kindness shown to us. It all really has helped.
And we're so thankful for all the prayers and for the state of the art hospitals and modern medicine. I have many friends that give birth at home or birthing centers. That's fine. I'd never tell anyone how to have their baby. And if this chicken knew she could get an epidural at a birthing center, I probably would have been at one so I could get home faster. But I just always had a fear my baby would have a medical emergency and if we couldn't get him to a NICU in time, I'd never forgive myself. Never did I think at home or at a center would be dangerous for me. Never crossed my mind. But in my case, had I not been at a great hospital with my wonderful doctor, I wouldn't be here, boring you with this story today. But what happened to me was very rare, especially in my case so I don't mean to startle anyone or sound like I'm preaching that you have to have your baby a certain way. To each their own. I'm just happy that since this freak, rare thing had to happened to me, a perfectly healthy young mom, I was able to get the immediate life saving blood I needed. And I'm on the mend now, and we're all getting by, and loving every minute as a family of four : )
