Our NICU Journey
Did you know that September is Neonatal Intensive Care Awareness month?
No one ever told me when preparing for pregnancy to prepare for the worst possible happenings. In fact, no one really shared pregnancy stories with me at all. While pregnant with our first born, I was going in for a normal checkup, but surprisingly found out that my heart rate was “through the roof’ as my Doctor described it. She had no clue on how I was even walking or doing my normal routine. She immediately sent me to the hospital for blood work and testing. Waiting around for answers after the blood work and unplanned scare, I continued to embrace my body and my pregnancy, because in my mind I was just fine and everything would be okay. I thought about ways to change my diet and eating habits. Along with exercises I could do to help improve my health.
I decided to give my Granny a call with the news from my Doctor’s visit and to my surprise my news wasn’t foreign to her. She started telling me about my mother having preeclampsia while pregnant with my sisters and I. My eyes widened, because I was just learning about this information in my twenties. Baffled by the news, I still listened in to what she had to say. Once our conversation ended I kind of brushed it off, because in my mind the older generation will diagnose you with the flu when you just have a cough or runny nose.
To my dismay, during my next appointment with my Doctor, she went over my testing results and explained that I had protein in my urine sample, an excess weight gain and high blood pressure all signs of early stages of preeclampsia. She advised me that I would need to monitor my blood pressure every few hours and if the systolic reading was greater than 120 mm HG, and the diastolic greater than 80 mm HG, to lay on my left side and then take my blood pressure again within 30 minutes. If it was still elevated, then to call the nurses’ hotline for next steps. I told her peace of cake. I’ll do just that. My husband and I ordered my blood pressure cuff. He helped me take my readings and logged them in a journal. Things were going good, I had moments of elevated blood pressures, but nothing too crazy.
I started to slack with taking my pressures, because I felt fine and when I didn’t I knew I needed to lay down. Next visit came around and as the nurse took my vitals I took a glimpse at my blood pressure on the screen and my stomach cringed. My Doctor’s advice during that visit was completely different. Hypertension Stage 1 was the news. Bed rest were her orders. I laughed at her during that conversation and said okay. I’ll do my best.
Disregarding the Doctors’ orders to rest, because I had students to teach and more money to be made prior to our little’s arrival, I went on to work. The Assistant Principal looked at me and immediately knew I shouldn’t be at work. I looked off balance and just out of it, but of course I brushed it off and said I was fine. She insisted I went to the school nurse and so I did. The school nurse took my blood pressure 190/100 Hypertensive Crisis. She told me I needed to head to the hospital & fast because I could be nearing a seizure due to my elevated blood pressure.
They called my husband. He rushed me to the hospital. The medical staff immediately prepared me for delivery and all I can remember was being scared. Heartbroken. Afraid that I was going to lose our first child. Asking myself what did I possibly do to bring this on us? I was only 5 months at the time and having a baby at 5 months wasn’t something I thought about. After all I was still trying to convince my husband about having a water birth. An all natural birth. Everything that I wanted was being dismantled by this disease no one even saw coming.
After being poked with a needle, so huge, that included the steroids to speed up the development of our little’s lungs for delivery, the Doctor came in with orders for me to be rushed to a different hospital with a better NICU equipped to take care of our little. Upon our arrival at Riverside Methodist Hospital the Doctor wanted to try and keep baby in for just a little longer pending my blood pressure stabilized with the intramuscular regimen of the magnesium. Hours had passed and my blood pressure started to stabilize. They were not to normal levels, but they were at a safe level that allowed me to house baby inside a little longer; actually four and a half weeks longer. Everyday during those four and a half weeks I would ask the nurse if I could just go home to rest and promised to come back if anything happened out of the ordinary. They denied my request each time, which thankfully they did. December 22nd I woke up to a sharp pain passing through my arm. One after another and another. I called my nurse in and they called the Doctor confirming that it was time to take baby out, because my body was no longer responding to the medicine.
Fears started all over again. My labor was excruciating. From the misoprostol pills, being what seemed like, forced, into my uterus, to the foley bulb weighing on my cervix, I just couldn’t bare the pain. With my pain seeming to have no end in sight, I asked the nurse for a cesarean because on top of the constant pain, there was also no progress with me dilating after several doses of the misoprostol. She told me they would not go that route unless it was absolutely necessary. I immediately regretted asking anyway.
Unfortunately, things started to take a turn for the worse with laboring. Our little’s, heart started to dip and delivery plans changed again. Next steps, a cesarean. After a talk with the Doctor and the steps to prepare me for delivery, I was told that with all the medication in my system that I probably would be too out of it to welcome our baby. I was out of it, but I insisted that I saw her that night, because of all the scares you hear about premature babies not making it, I wanted to meet her. I needed to meet her. After a good glimpse at her in her incubator, I prayed and I knew that with my husband by her side everything would be alright. The next day and each day that I spent in the hospital I was by her bedside. Holding her. Trying my best to breastfeed her. Having as much skin to skin time as I could have with her, because I wanted her to know that mommy was right there fighting with her.
After being discharged, I felt empty. My body had every reminiscent of childbirth, but our home was empty. The bassinet didn’t have a baby sleeping in it. I didn’t feel whole knowing that my little was in the hospital and mommy and daddy were at home. Every waking second I spent in the NICU at her bed side and in their lactation room. I knew that I didn’t have the birthing experience I wanted, but I knew she would have the milk my body produced to help her in her fight to get home. Here we are, almost four years later and my Warrior is as spunky, and bright as the moon on a cloudless night. She came in with a fight! She hasn’t stopped fighting and I am proud to be this Little’s mama! She has taught me endurance, steadfastness, commitment, faith, and how to hold on when the battle seems too hard.
As a new mom, I don’t advise preparing for the worse, but become familiar with what could be possible. If you plan to deliver at a hospital, be sure to do your research regarding their NICU. There are many reasons babies even born full term could be placed in the NICU. Awareness is knowledge that can help your journey as a new mom. My advice this month to any lady going through pregnancy or not, if your body is telling you something, listen to it. You don’t have to be superwoman all the time. In fact, not being superwoman could save your life or your Little’s. #NICUStrong #NICUAwareness
P.S. Preeclampsia has nothing to do with your dieting. So don’t blame yourself.
Peace. Love. Blessings.
