Okay, anyone who is friends with me knows that OBVIOUSLY we had a baby girl--earlier than expected. But, I thought I would go ahead and share the details of our girl's arrival. She made quite the dramatic entrance into the world.
Sunday, May 21, 2017, I sent my sisters a somewhat frantic text message that evening because I had started spotting, and it was a bit unusual looking (I won't share details). They proceeded to talk me down as it could have just been nothing because (here is something no one tells you) sometimes you just bleed FOR NO REASON when you are growing a human. And it is stressful and keeping calm about it is not easy. However, the sisters talked me off my ledge and I shared the fun information with Nick (ah, marriage!). The next day there was a little more of the same, so I checked in with the nurse at my doc's office. We came to the conclusion that there was nothing to really worry about at this point, so I continued to simply monitor.
Tuesday, May 23, 2017. things looked a bit different, and I was feeling very uncomfortable with the change in the look of the very red blood. So, in to the doctor we went. AND ALL THE BABIES WERE BEING BORN. Seriously. All the rooms were full. All the extra rooms were full. I spent the night in the triage room where the bleeding got progressively worse. After an ultrasound where NO evidence of any tearing or placental issues were found, two more steroid shots (just in case), and dinner at 11pm, I woke to the great "when should we have a baby" debate. After a morning of monitoring me and baby, the decision was made to have a baby at 5pm. Then that decision was changed, and the doc on duty debated waiting until the following morning to ship us off to the OR for my c-section. After much debate and a long talk with me, she decided to go ahead and perform the surgery on Wednesday evening at 8pm.
So, on Wednesday, May 24, 2017 at 8 pm, as I was still signing consent forms, I was rolled back to the operating room. And as I left Nick outside to wait, my whole being was overcome with an intense sense of absolute terror. It took all the willpower I had NOT to jump down and try to run away. However, I slid onto the operating table, squeezed a pillow and my nurse through the spinal, lay down, threw up, and waited for Nick to come sit by my head. He will tell you a very different story, I am sure, but after what felt like a very long time, a SILENT, FLOPPY, GHOST-WHITE baby was rushed to the corner of the OR. I watched in shock as the nurses frantically worked on my baby as I whispered over and over again, "PLEASE cry, please cry, please cry" until there was a quiet sound from her. They stabilized her and rolled her past me while saying, "Look at your baby. I need to get her out of here."
I was taken back to my room for all post-op procedures when I was visited later by the neonatologist who wanted to have her air lifted to another hospital for treatment. You see, I/we had experienced a pretty severe placental abruption. Basically, my placenta was separating from the uterine wall, and to make matters worse, it also just kind of fell apart (split in two) as they were pulling her out. She lost a crazy amount of blood and received FOUR transfusions that first night. FOUR! The concern then obviously becomes the amount of oxygen she didn't have, so she was sent to a specialist who turned her into a baby Popsicle. As in, her core temp was cooled for 72 hours to allow her brain and organs to heal while in a slower state. This is really a rather remarkable thing, and it is something that has only recently been done to babies as early as 34 weeks gestation. Which means we barely made it.
You guys. The miracle that is my youngest child was made possible through miraculous event piled upon miraculous event. I try not to say it often, but we ALMOST lost her. And I just can't...
We spent 17 days in the NICU: three as a popsicle, eight long days until I could hold her for the first time, and nine days learning how to eat. She came home on (and is currently still on) a little bit of oxygen. She eats well. She sleeps well. She is getting all the love from all her people, and we are so blessed, so happy, so grateful for it all.
I was reminded that angels attend to and watch over our sweet babies--in the form of nurses, doctors, and actual angels. I promise you that the NICU is watched over closely and attended to regularly.
So, as we love hard to and put this ordeal behind us, I am happy to introduce Camille Jay--our pretty little caboose.
