Throwback Thursday Stories: Welcoming Our Firstborn

I shared this picture on facebook today and, while most of my friends and family know our story, there are still many who don't understand how that day was both the best and worst day of my life. 

My husband and I arrived at the hospital early for my induction, a decision we had carefully made after she refused to show any signs of entering this world at two weeks overdue.  It was just the beginning of disappointments for me, because I had planned and dreamed of an all natural, intervention free birth...and, in my naive dream world, I imagined her birth day would be nothing but joy filled.

But nothing about her birth story was what I expected.  By mid afternoon, I began to experience horrible back labor and by mid evening I was barely at 5 cm dilated.  My husband practically begged me to agree to some kind of pain medication as I sobbed through each contraction.  I still desperately wanted the birth I had envisioned and I simply felt defeated finally admitting it wasn't going to happen.

I agreed to an epidural and was finally able to rest for a little while, before I woke up shaking uncontrollably.  I was freezing, but my body was burning up.  My teeth wouldn't stop chattering and my head was throbbing.  I had spiked a 105 fever, but I was ready to push.

I don't remember much from then until she was born as fever and exhaustion took over other than the doctor telling me to "push one more time - you're almost there!" over and over for an hour and a half.  Just before the final few pushes, I vaguely remember the doctor's look of concern as her heart rate dropped and I heard him whisper "c-section" to one of the nurses.  That was all it took for me to muster enough energy for those final pushes.

When she was born, she was covered in meconium and I didn't hear her cry.  Nurses rushed to pump out all the fluid and meconium she had swallowed and before I knew it she was whisked away to the nursery when her breathing was still shallow.  This was the only glimpse I had of her until she was almost three hours old...

When she was finally brought to my postpartum room, I noticed her breathing still wasn't quite right, but I was too in awe of her and afraid to say anything that would cause the nurses to take her away again.  I barely got a chance to attempt breastfeeding for the first time before the pediatrician arrived and she was taken back to the nursery.  I knew something was wrong when the pediatrician came to our room without her, but I never imagined the journey we would soon embark on.

It was first thought that she had pneumonia from swallowing so much fluid and meconium.  We began to accept that she would be need a week of IV antibiotics, but would be able to room in with me in an extended stay room.  The first time we went to visit her in the nursery after IV antibiotics were started, I noticed she was very agitated.  The nurses told me I couldn't breastfeed her and I was too naive and exhausted to argue.  As I held her, she stared at me with sad eyes and then became upset when I didn't offer her food for her empty tummy.  The nurse then told us to leave, because our presence and even our voices were too upsetting to her.

I left the nursery nearly in tears, but the tears didn't really come until a few hours later, when we returned to the nursery to say good night before attempting to get some rest.  When we walked in her crib was empty and then I noticed a nurse and a different pediatrician standing over one of the warming tables.  They told me she had started to have seizures and a medical transport helicopter was on the way from a nearby NICU to transfer her there.  I didn't hear anything else she said as I stared at my newborn daughter, whose body was limp except for the tiny twitches from the seizures.  I left the room before the tears came and fell on the floor of my postpartum room in a heap of gut wrenching sobs.

My husband held me and prayed for our newborn daughter and, when the tears finally calmed enough, we called our pastor and then my mom.  The on call OB doctor agreed to discharge me so we could follow our daughter to the NICU hospital and we hurried back to the nursery to hold our daughter while we waited for the NICU team to arrive.  When they arrived, I tearfully handed her over and painfully made my way back to my room to pack.  My husband held my hand and I cried silent tears as we drove to the NICU hospital that night.  We spent the night in the family room of the NICU, my mom curled up on a reclining chair while my husband curled up next to me on the pull out couch and held me as I cried myself to sleep.

The next two weeks were a blur of ups and downs.  When we talk about it now, my husband and I have no idea how we made it through the severe exhaustion and emotional trauma of that time...except for the grace of God, the steadfast prayers of so many, the daily support of my mom who rarely left our sides, and the constant outpouring of love from our families and friends.  As I type these words, it's still hard to explain what those days were really like.  We ran on little sleep and our sole focus was on our tiny princess who had already so wrapped her little fingers around our hearts.  We still don't know exactly what caused her seizures, but, miraculously, we finally brought her home at almost two weeks old...completely healthy. 

Linking up with Jessica of The Mom Creative for her new series on Throwback Thursday Stories.  As hard as it was to write these words, there's something healing in sharing our story.