When we got to the hospital, who did I see in my room first thing, but Malory - my doula?! I don't know if anyone documented it, but I am willing to bet my b.p. went down 10 points just from seeing a familiar face among the sea of unknowns surrounding me at the moment. Many of my fears subsided. I knew that from that point whatever happened, even if my husband didn't make it on time, at least I had some personal support. Malory is not just my doula, but my friend as well. I chose her to support me in pregnancy and delivery because she is one of the most calm people I have ever met - and well, if you know me - 'calm' is just not a normal part of my vocabulary in times of stress. I feel so loved by God at this gracious provision. In addition, Bryan walked in the door within 5 minutes of my arrival. He swears he didn't speed to get there, but he definitely got there quickly! I couldn't have been any more relieved in that moment.
It didn't take long to find myself signing (or being encouraged to sign...) releases, admission papers, and who knows what. All while giving medical history, getting a new IV in, and being wheeled down to another floor in order for this hospital to get their own visual (ultrasound) of the situation. At one point I calmly asked the nurse to hold off temporarily on the waivers till my husband could join me in the decision making process. With an annoyed look on her face, she agreed. We later found out she wrote up a report stating that I had refused to sign any papers (WTH?!) Yep, you read that right.
This is where it doesn't take long to get fuzzy again. One thing I will probably never forget, though:
Jeremiah had been breech for several weeks. I was starting to get nervous as the weeks ticked by. In fact, he had been breech when I left the hospital in my home town. Get ready for a major God thing. : ) However, when the new hospital took their ultrasound, he was no longer breech, but head down. Now I can tell him, it took a helicopter ride to turn him around. Praise Jesus! We took this as a sign that we just might avoid that nasty surgery after all.
We met with the Dr. on staff that day and he agreed with us - he was hopeful and optimistic for a vaginal delivery. Aside from that, he looked at all my numbers and estimated a week before attempting an induction. One thing was for sure, we would not be leaving this hospital without somehow delivering a baby prematurely. We were thankful to have this time, because I was able to receive steroids to develop the baby's lungs, which would prove to give him a large step forward in those early days of premature life outside the womb.
Since no one was sure what would happen, I hung out in an L&D room on the high risk floor for 2 days. At some point before leaving our home town, I had already been started on magnesium sulfate. For me, it took a few days for all the side effects to set in, but in the end of the 2 weeks I was on it (before, during, and after delivery), I displayed all of them: nausea, extreme exhaustion, lack of appetite, difficulty opening my eyes, severe sensitivity to light, and a heavy metallic taste in my mouth.
(Magnesium sulfate is an anti-seizure medication. Patients with preeclampsia have a high risk of seizures that may cause mother and baby lasting damage or even death).
The most frustrating part about all of this? Until I was put on the magnesium, I felt 100% fine. The only sign I had ever had before my diagnosis was some swelling that wouldn't go down, and this does not necessarily mean something as bad as preeclampsia.
I don't really remember much else, other than sleeping a lot, being told to drink a lot of water, and struggling to maintain hydration. Other than that, Jeremiah and I were monitored (therefore necessarily harassed by nurses) 24 hours a day. They took labs, checked my b.p. every two hours, and had me on fetal and heart monitors up till the moment he was born.
I must have somewhat stabilized there in labor and delivery, because I was moved to the ante-partum wing of the floor. This basically means that you are going to deliver at some point, but they aren't sure when or how. Again, the phrase 'possible' or 'emergency c-section' never - ever - left the table - even throughout my labor.
Honestly, that was one of the most difficult and mentally challenging parts of the whole situation at times - the complete unknown and necessity to trust God with all of it 100%. Somehow though, I really was miraculously able to do just that in lots of key moments. There were a couple of times when the baby's monitor mistakenly picked up my heart beat instead (much lower than his should have been), and the doctors and nurses completely flipped out. However, I was oddly at complete peace in the midst of those times. I remember telling my nurse once, "You are not in control of this, and neither are we. Whatever happens, our lives are in God's hands, so just do whatever you need to do, but settle down. It's all going to be okay." If you know me well, you know that kind of response could only have been the peace that passes understanding.
Well, at a certain point, my blood pressure began to steadily and slowly increase once again. I had already been given the pre-determined safest amount of blood pressure medication, and there was nothing left to do but try to get me to deliver the baby. At that point I was moved back to labor and delivery.
To be continued...
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