Playing sports for most of my life has
left me no stranger to pain. I have been elbowed in the face, kicked in the
shin, and gotten many nasty bruises. I have had
torn muscles and broken bones, but nothing could have prepared me for the pain
I felt on Sunday.
I started having small contractions
Saturday night. Nate and I were on the couch and I kept feeling small twinges.
I thought they were stretching pains, but I noticed my abdomen was tightening.
It didn’t hurt all that badly so I took a couple of Tylenol and went to bed.
Throughout the night I woke up every few hours because the twinges started to
get worse. I finally got up around 5:30 Sunday morning because I couldn’t
ignore the pain anymore. It wasn’t terrible. It was just very uncomfortable. I
hadn’t been sure before if they were contractions or not, but the pain started
getting more intense and they were getting closer together. There was no
denying that these were contractions.
Nate came out on the couch with me
and I let him know I was having contractions. I asked him to start keeping
track of how far apart they were. They were every few minutes and when I told
him the contractions were getting worse he told me we needed to call the
doctor. I had been holding off because I was hoping they would stop. The doctor
told us to go straight to labor and delivery and that he would be at the
hospital shortly. For the second time in two weeks, we headed up to the
hospital.
By the time we got to the hospital,
I could no longer speak through the pain. All I could do was close my eyes and
pray that it would end soon. The contractions were lasting longer and my
stomach was hard as a rock. They took me up to my room and got me into bed. The
nurse began strapping a monitor around my stomach to track contractions and I
noticed my stomach looked lopsided. The left side of my lower abdomen was
sticking out much further then the right side. I started to freak out and ask
the nurse why my stomach looked like that. She told me it was because the baby
was moving down to be born. Tears filled my eyes. I wasn’t ready for this. My
baby wasn’t ready to be born. I held on to Nate and wished for everything to
stop. He laid his hands on my head and gave me a blessing. I listened carefully
to his words and found peace through the pain.
The doctor came in and preformed an ultrasound. The ultrasound revealed that our baby’s head was now pointing down.
He told us the baby was getting ready to come and there was nothing they could
do at this point to stop it. He said that 95% of his job was fun and exciting,
but this was the 5% that made his job hard. He apologized to us and told us
they would take pictures of the baby for us after the birth. He told us we
didn’t have to see them if it was too hard for us. I told him I wanted them. He
asked us if we wanted to see and hold the baby after the delivery. I nodded and
told him I wanted to. I wanted the chance to hold my beautiful baby in my arms.
This would be the only chance I would have in this life.
The contractions kept getting more
painful and they began lasting longer. Nate told me to squeeze his hand as hard
as I needed to. My mother-in-law Jo Anne was with us and had begun calling
family to let them know what was going on. I tried to stay strong, but I began
crying and telling Nate I didn’t want to do this. I could handle the pain if it
meant I was going to be able to have a healthy baby. I couldn’t handle the pain
knowing we were going to go home with empty arms and broken hearts.
I was finally given painkillers
through my IV, but they hardly did anything. The pain was blinding. I tried to
focus on my breathing. In through my nose, out through my mouth. The nurse told
me I could ask for more painkillers because they wanted to make sure I was
comfortable. I think I was given about four doses in twenty minutes. My world
was spinning. I couldn’t focus. Words came out jumbled and I don’t think I made
sense. I was so tired. I had already been in labor for several hours and I just
wanted to sleep. I started to doze off, but as soon as I’d found some peace,
the awful pain of a contraction awakened me. I wanted to scream. Instead I
clenched my teeth and squeezed Nate’s hand. The painkillers took the edge off,
but I was in more pain then I had ever been.
I began getting used to the
medication and I was able to carry on a conversation between contractions. I
asked Jo Anne to get information about burial plots. We decided to bury our
baby in Nate’s hometown. I wondered what a service would be like for a baby
like ours. Would we ask for someone to speak? What would they say? We didn’t
have any funny stories or memories about our baby’s life. Our baby’s life was
going to end before it had even begun. This wasn’t supposed to happen this way.
The doctor came in again to check
on me. I wasn’t dilated yet, but he said with as severe as my contractions were
and the position of the baby, it was only a matter of time before our baby made
its arrival. The nurse came in about 20 minutes later and I was one centimeter dilated. She
checked the baby’s heart beat and let us know it was getting lower. My
contractions were stronger, longer, and closer together. She said that meant we
were getting closer to delivery. The doctor said I had most likely developed an
infection and this was my body’s response. The doctor went over the different
outcomes. I could have a normal delivery if everything went well. If I began to
bleed heavily, I would need a blood transfusion and they would take me into
surgery. I prayed for a normal delivery. He had the nurse give me antibiotics
and told me he would be back in three or four hours to check in.
Over the next few hours I drifted
in and out of an uneasy sleep. I talked with my mom on the phone and talked
with Nate and Jo Anne. If I ever needed anything, Jo Anne would run out to the
nurses to let them know. Nate sat by my side and held my hand. Every once in a
while I’d ask him to lay down with me. I’d scoot over to the edge of the bed so
he could squeeze in. I’d snuggle up next to him and doze off. I was exhausted.
The nurse had to come in frequently to check on the baby and I. I would wait
anxiously to hear our baby’s heart beat every hour.
My contractions and become less
intense around 3 o’clock. They were farther apart and I could breath more
easily when they came. The nurse came in to check the baby’s heart rate and
said it was sounding much stronger. By the time the doctor came back, the
contractions were almost non-existent. He couldn’t believe it. He kept shaking
his head in disbelief. I had been in labor for most of the day and then
everything had stopped. He wanted to keep me through the night to monitor how
things went.
Sleeping peacefully in a hospital
in impossible. Every couple of hours the night nurse would come in to check my
blood pressure and IV. The only thing I enjoyed was when she would check the
baby’s heart rate. I couldn’t help but smile every time I heard the beating of
my baby’s heart. Through everything my little one was fighting to hold on. I
had to stay strong.
Monday morning arrived. I wasn’t in
much pain, but the painkillers from the day before left my head feeling foggy.
Breakfast consisted of jello, broth, and juice. Oh goody... Someone came in to
draw some blood. Thank goodness it only took one try. The day before they had
to poke me five times before they got any blood.
The doctor came in and let me know
I could go home. The baby was stable once again to everyone’s surprise. I got
dressed and they brought in a wheelchair to take me to the car. On the ride
home I thought about what a beautiful day it was. For now, everything was ok.
Twice, we have been told we our baby is going
to die and twice our baby has pulled through. My baby is a fighter. My baby
also has one heck of a guardian angel. I
will not lose hope and I will not lose faith. I will stay positive and keep
praying for my baby. I am grateful for each day that I get to carry my little
one. I can’t believe I have been blessed with such a miracle baby.
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| My hero |
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