Maybe I should start at the beginning here... I had a pretty normal pregnancy up until the last few months. Then around my sixth month I got diagnosed with gestational diabetes. I figured it was no huge deal, all the doctors kept saying was that if any problems arose from it it would just be that my baby would be bigger than a normal newborn. I figured I could deal with that, and even though I was monitoring my blood sugar I wasnt too worried.
After my diagnosis I assumed I would be asked about my blood sugar at each new visit to the doctor... After all, they had given me a book to record my levels in four times a day. Why should I record it if no one cared? Well, turns out no one did care. I was asked at ONE visit how my blood sugar was and then pretty much told not to worry about it, it sounded fine. Fine huh? Well, that sounded great to me!
Nearing the end of my pregnancy I started swelling like crazy. I gained 11lbs in one week once! Along with the swelling came loads of discomfort as well as high blood pressure. When I was 37 weeks one of my doctors decided to begin monitoring me twice weekly instead of once weekly, and so on Monday, March 22nd, I went in for a check up at 37 1/2 weeks. I had grown so terribly uncomfortable by this point that I was secretly wishing they'd send me for an induction, but I wasnt going to hold my breath. But turned out I didnt have to! My doctor came in and after a quick check she told me she was sending me over to the hospital to be induced! I was so excited thinking about getting to meet my baby that day! If I had known what was about to happen I would've asked to hold off. Or maybe at least done things differently once I got there.
As soon as I got to the hospital they checked me in and a TON of nurses came pouring into the room hooking me up to all the usual machines. They told me that as soon as they got all my paperwork done that the delivering doctor would be in to break my water. I was already at 4cm so I figured if they broke my water things wee gonna go pretty quick. I was ok with that since I was still so overwhelmingly excited about finally meeting my little one so I nodded my head and smiled as the head nurse trotted off to find the doctor. A few minutes later my water was broken and my contractions were started and shortly after most of my friends and family began pouring into the room.
I think the point when I started to get an off feeling for sure was when one of my nurses was asking me if I had any health conditions, cancers, diabetes, etc. I told her that I had gestational diabetes and the room just stopped. She looked kind of nervous and said "Um... In a previous pregnancy, right??" and I told her, no Now! All the nurses looked at each other in alarm and someone went off to confirm with the doctor... I just kept thinking, shouldnt they have KNOWN that? Wasn't it on my chart? After that no one seemed all to concerned so I stopped worrying and tried to relax; Unfortunately relaxing was not on the agenda.
I was starting to get a bit nervous. First of all I had not anticipated there being that many people there. I knew they wouldnt be staying for the delivery but I wasnt sure I wanted them there for the labor either. That just got compounded when I noticed how high the baby's heart rate was... 180 and climbing! I didnt really think it was too normal, but I wasnt really worried about it until the doctor came in and notified me that if the baby's heart rate stayed up like that and I didnt progress quickly that they would have to perform a c-section. My mom stared fixedly at the fetal monitor after that and kept announcing the baby's heart rate as loudly as possible, "It's 185!!... No, now it's at 190!... 203!!!!". I think she was stressing me out worse than anything making me more nervous. I just turned my head to the quiet side of the room where only my husband sat, looking solemn and nervous. I could feel everyone's eyes pressing on me and I began to start wondering if any of them were ever going to leave. I mean I was in labor! I wanted some peace! ( I think in total there were 12 or 13 visitors PLUS about 5 or 6 nurses at all times!) I was feeling crowded and was hoping that one of the nurses would hear my silent plea and kick everyone out! Unfortunately the only time they did that was to check my cervix and they all would come shuffling right back in. I was starting to worry about the pushing phase. I hadntdidnt have to deal with the chatter of everyone on top of being in pain.
Finally around 4:30 pm my doctor returned and kicked everyone out. She gave me a curious look as I grinned at her while everyone made their way out. She told me that since the baby's heart rate was still so high she was going to check me one more time and if I hadn't made any more progress she would go ahead with the c-section (after all the nervousness about the pushing I was a little relieved) She checked me and I was still not quite at 7, so she told me she wanted to go ahead and get the baby out. All I could think about was how much better I felt not being in front of all those people anymore and that I wouldnt have to push after all. I looked back at my husband, who still hadnt spoken a word to see that he looked absolutely terrified. I on the other hand, was delighted. My moment was here, I was finally going to meet my baby!
I rolled into the OR and prepped for surgery a little before 5, I think. I layed there, not knowing where to look, but at my husband who still had a scared to death, but hopeful look on his face (he doesnt do so well with hospitals). I only heard a bunch of sucking and swishing sounds amidst the babble of the doctors and nurses talking about what they had had for lunch and where they were planning to take their summer vacations. I was getting a little annoyed because no one was talking to me, no one was even talking about what was going on. It was as if the single most important day of my life was not unfolding at that very moment. I was starting to feel a faint fog of disappointment, but I pushed it away as soon as the anesthesiologist looked down at me and smiled and told me they were just about to pull the baby out. Not a minute later I heard my baby girl's first beautiful cries along with I dont know how many people saying "Oh she's gorgeous!" and "Oh my goodness, BIG girl!!" It seemed like forever. I didnt see her, but the whole time I could hear her screaming away. I remarked ot my husband how good her lungs were and he grinned for the first time all day. After what seemed like an hour (it was probably only about 20 minutes) a nurse walked over with my daughter all wrapped up to show her to me. I was hoping to get to see her for at least a few minutes, possibly even hold her with some help, but all I got was enough time to tell her a quick "Hi!' and give her barely a brush on the cheek with my lips before the nurse pulled her away and said she was taking her to the nursery. She told my husband he could come, and he took off behind her. They finished sewing me up and got me back on a bed and told me they were taking me back to the delivery room to recover and someone would bring me my baby shortly. I was going crazy in anticipation and was so excited I was shaking (of course that also might have been from the anesthesia...)
As they wheeled me into the recovery room one of the nurses told me that my daughter weighed 8lbs, 9oz... She wasnt as big as she looked after all. My husband was already waiting for me and said he hadnt been able ot keep up with the nurse. The nurses told me to relax and that my baby would be brought to me shortly. Every time a nurse would walk in I would raise my head up hoping to see a bassinet, but I never did. I waited for about an hour and still no baby. A few nurses came in and asked if they had bourhgt her to me yet, and I kept giving them a disappointed "no". They would all say "In just a few minutes then, it wont be long!"
Finally a lady from the nursery came in. She was a sweet looking lady with a sympathetic look on her face. She walked up to my bedside and introduced herself as the nurse taking care of my baby in the nursery. She said my daughter appeared to be healthy and had good lungs, but she had checked her blood sugar and that it was low. (On tv when a baby has low blood sugar they give it a bottle of sugar water and everything is fine, so I was like... OK... No one had ever brought the possibility up to me and I had done research online but not found much on the subject) She then told me that they would have to put the baby on IV fluids to bring her sugar up. I was still smiling because I figured it wouldnt take too long. WRONG. The nurse kept making her face more and more into the face of someone who is trying to give you really bad news and they are hoping you'll figure it out on your own before they have to come out and say it. She finally told me that it might take a couple of days because they had to wean her off of the fluids or her sugar would drop right back. Then she dropped the bombshell that still keeps me up at night. She had taken the baby to the NICU and since i had had a c-section I would be able to go visit her... TOMORROW. I felt the tears of hormones mixed with disappointment welling up but before I could let them out my friends and family started filing back into the room. Great. The nurse saw her opportunity and took off after mentioning that my husband could take people one at a time to see the baby. I was heartbroken but I didnt want anyone to know. I didnt want that pity look, that fake sympathetic "aww, its ok" when they have no idea.
They wheeled me to my actual room and everyone followed. There were tons of people piling in and all I wanted to do was break down. My mom could tell something was wrong and kept asking me but I just kept shaking my head. I waited for a mousy moment when I could tell her and noone else would hear. I knew if they heard it from me they would do the pity thing. I didnt want it. I just wanted to be left alone. I kept it to myself that anyone could go visit her. I didnt want them to know. I was so jealous thinking that they could go see my baby but I couldnt. It wasnt fair! Then just as I completed that thought the pediatric cardiologist came in to tell us that he had looked her over and other than her sugar being low she was perfectly healthy. And then he did what I was hoping he wouldnt which was to announce that two at a time could go back to see her, but one had to be the dad. I was hoping everyone would go home but my mom and Andy (My husband) They were the only one I didnt mind going back. (And my sister, but she had already left). Everyone in the room was still so pumped up about the new baby they didnt even notice that I wasnt saying much. That I was welling up with tears and holding back. No one even asked if I was ok. They were too busy discussing who would go see the baby first. The baby I worked so hard to bring into the world but couldnt see myself. My cousin even had the nerve to tell me " Man, it sucks, everyone gets to see the baby but you and she's YOUR baby! hahaha". I wanted to punch her. At least my mom and husband brought me back pictures. I at least got to see what she looked like, but it just wasnt enough.
Around 9 I was finally able to go see her. She had lost alot of her swelling through the night and looked so tiny. They told me I could touch her and I did, but I couldnt help but be angry at being told I was "allowed" to touch my own baby. I got to stay for about thirty minutes before they made me go back to my room to lie down. I couldve stayed forever. I was not ready to leave.
I finally got to hold her that night to feed her, because the night shift nurses were much nucer than the day shift ones, where I was barely allowed to hold her hand. I got to change a few diapers here and there and one night shift nurse actually let me give her a bath my last night in the hospital. I was getting so tired of being treated like I didnt know how to handle my baby by the dayshift nurses. If I fed her I wasnt allowed to hold her close to me so she wouldnt go to sleep. I couldnt hold her for more than a few minutes at a time because she would get over excited they said. I knew she wasnt well, but they were treating her as though she were as sick as the other babies in the NICU and it was all I could do not to break down in tears or lash out at them. All I wanted was to be with my baby. There were several times that I was told I could come give her her feeding at x time, but when I got there I got kicked out because a new patient was being admitted. It broke my heart to walk in and hear her cry when I started talking and have to walk away from her.
The day I was discharged I was finally allowed to try nursing her for the first time ( I had planned on exclusively breastfeeding). It went ok, but she was already spoiled by the bottle. If I couldve breastfed solely from that point I thin we wouldve made it, but I had to go home and she had to stay. We didnt have a car at the time so I had to pump my milk and bring it once a day to be fed to her in a bottle. It was the hardest thing in the world to have to leave that hospital and leave her there. I knew she was in good hands, but they werent mine and I hated it. My husband didnt seem to understand. All he kept saying was "Oh, she's ok" and "You dont think I miss her too?" All I needed was for him to hold me and let me cry. Everyday I had to find a ride up there and everyday I only got to stay for at most 2 or 3 hours at a time. By the time the week was out I started not even wanting to go to the hospital because I knew I would just have to leave her again. I felt like she wasnt even my baby. Like I had had a baby and tehy took it away and told me I could have "that one" when they were done with it.
Finally the day came when I called the hospital and they asked when I could come pick her up. I couldnt get ready fast enough. I finally thought all the sadness was behind me! But I was wrong...
To this day I get upset when I look at pictures of her from the day she was born. "Thats not my baby" I think to myself, or "Thats the baby they took from me". I know shes mine, shes the same baby I held in my arms all day today when she had a fever, the same baby I've been rocking to sleep for months, but I just cant wrap my head around it. I keep thinking I should be over it by now, and maybe I am! Until I see a picture of someone's baby just an hour or two old, or a newborn being held by its mommy in her hospital room and completely break down. Tonight I saw a picture of a friends baby, at one hour old. All I could think was "I didnt get to see my baby at an hour old. Or at two hours old, or three, or four,... and on and on" I cried for three hours straight, and I'm still crying off and on. I have scoured the net looking for support groups but all I can find are those for women with preemies. Or people who are over their depression. I dont feel like I will ever be over mine. I will never ever get the first day of my baby's life back, not ever. I dont know why I cant let it go. I'm to the point that I cant sleep. I eat constantly in an effort to fill myself in a way I cant get full. I wake up at night and think I feel the baby moving only to realize shes right beside me and I get started all over again. I dont know what to do with myself. I am terrified to have more children because I'm afraid the same thing will happen again and I cant stand to go through it again. I constantly plan and plot in my head how I will make sure things go next time. I tell myself I wont let them break my water, Ill induce only if I really really have to, I'll take good acre of my blood sugar, and I will not let the doctors talk me into anything thats not necessary for the health of the baby and myself. But I still think about it all the time. I think having another baby would fix it sometimes, make me feel better, but deep down I know it wouldnt. I would give almost anything to redo that day and see if things went better, but I am trying to learn to deal with it. I tell myself I should be thankful that my baby is home now and she is healthy, that she didnt have worse problems to begin with. I remember all those tiny babies in the NICU beside her and I feel selfish and ashamed of myself. But the fact is I cant help the way feel. I cant afford to get therapy or medication, nor do I Think I have the nerve, so instead I am here blogging. Hoping for a way to get past al this. Praying for the healing to begin already.
