April 25: At 6am, we were up and off to the hospital. Something wasn’t right.
Our mid-wife was still at the hospital from being on call - so we checked in with the ER but was told to head straight to labor and delivery where she was. I was checked in and immediately our mid-wife began looking for a heart beat. After a few minutes of search, we saw one flash of his heart - she wanted a different machine to get a better look.
Meanwhile, the phlebotomists were trying to find a vein to draw blood and hopefully to put in an IV. They really struggled. Each site they looked for in my arms would collapse after each attempt. They couldn’t find a vein both arms - all over, near my elbow, in my wrist, in the fatty part of my arm - everywhere they tried.
30ish minutes later the new ultrasound machine arrived. The technician and mid-wife looked blankly at the screen as they searched for life in our baby - they found nothing. He was gone. I don't remember exactly what she said, but it was surreal, total out of body experience, I felt like I was watching myself react as she told me he didn't have a heartbeat.
Everyone left, but still no IV or blood had been drawn.
Hospitals have a way of time warping - I have no idea how long they gave us to process the passing of our baby. If I had to guess, it was about 20 minutes.
The phlebotomist along with a vein finder ultrasound machine came back into my room - and they finally found a vein. I could now finally get some liquids and medicine for my excruciating back pain.
Later, our mid-wife gave us the choice for leaving to deliver the baby naturally at home or to deliver him in the hospital. And because of the pain I was in, I decided that we should stay. They were able to give me some sort of magical pain killer right in through my IV - it worked instantly and all of my physical pain dissipated.
It wasn't until a few hours later that my lab work came back and the doctors realized how sick I actually was.
I remember my mid-wife coming back into my room and telling me I was very sick - I didn't really understand. What do you mean sick? I know I've been throwing up and whatnot, my back hurt and now somehow my baby is gone, but what do you mean sick? And they began to explain.. I had classic HELLP syndrome - I was in kidney and liver failure and my blood platelets were tanking by the hour.
I had to be transferred to a bigger hospital which was better equip to handle a case like mine.
I believe it was about 4pm when I was transferred. I got on the stretcher, they loaded me up in the ambulance and off we went. My husband followed behind in the car. It was my first (and only) time in an ambulance as a patient. I was nervous but they said that they weren’t going to have the lights and sirens going, so that made it feel a little less urgent.
The only thing that really transpired in the ambulance was one of the paramedics, almost immediately after loading me in asked me if we would try again for more children. Ughh… I don’t know! I just found out my kid was gone like 9 hours ago!!! Followed by, you’re really sick, sick enough that you can’t stay here and we can’t tell you what will happen from here. After that, I just closed my eye – I didn’t need to talk to her anymore.
So we arrived at the larger hospital about 45 minutes later. When you’re laying on a stretcher, you really can’t tell what’s going on, your just kinda laying there being wheeled around. Eventually we made it to my temporary room.
At the first hospital, I was put on magnesium which made moving my arms, legs, my body in general very difficult. I had to have this because I was at such a high risk for seizing. All my limbs felt like a 100 lbs. Additionally, due to my gestational progress (or lack their of), I couldn’t be on Piton – instead, they had to, every 6 hours, insert (with their whole GD hand it felt like) 2 asprin looking pills to my cervix. Yeah… real pleasant.
At this point my husband had already made calls to our immediate family letting them know we had lost the baby and that I was sick – we still didn’t really understand what sick meant but knew there was question about me being able to have kids in the future. My mom was traveling back from the mid-west that day and only briefly stopped at her home to swap out close before beginning her 4 hour drive to our hospital.
About 3 hours had passed since the last time the lab had come to take blood – they were monitoring my platelets, liver and kindey functions very closely. Each time, it seemed as though my platelets kept going lower and lower. We were mostly concerned about my platelets due to issues it causes with bleeding, or the inability to stop bleeding.
The consequences of a very low platelet count can be catastrophic and fatal. It also meant that the course of my care would be very strategic. The option for a c-section were basically off the table. I wouldn’t be able to have an epidural. I wouldn’t have had one even if I could because if this was the only pregnancy I was going to be able to have, I wanted to be able to feel, be able to know what it was like to deliver a baby.
So, like I said, my doctors were monitoring my counts very closely. Although I had an IV line, they can’t really draw blood from it, I’m not sure why but I know they said they couldn’t. So what seemed like ever 2 hours, the lab was coming for blood and well.. they were running out of options. Anywhere they could possibly find a vein, they stuck me. I had bruises for months after I got out of the hospital. They kept coming and coming for blood and there just wasn’t any other solution but to get a direct line.
A direct line, from my experience, is a surgically inserted “line” (for lack of a better word) into a main vein near your throat.
So of course, my doctor team is going back an forth regarding the risk of my low platelet count and needing this direct line. And after a platelet transfusion, I got the direct line.
About 6, 7 or 8 o’clock (I don’t remember exactly), the surgeon came directly to my room – I thought that was weird. But with her, she brought a sonogram machine so she could see into my throat to find the vein she would use. After injecting a local anesthetic, she inserted the (what we would find out later was a 9-10 inch long) tube into my vein. Overall, less than pleasant, nerve racking as hell, but ended up being okay. Now my nurses could draw blood, I could receive transfusions quickly if there was complications with my platelet count etc, etc. The surgeon was trying to be kind, trying to make me relax, make me laugh even. As you can imagine, the situation was very serious and consequently, I was very serious.
I didn’t really understand what was happening and it was all happening so fast – I was probably regrettably rude to her and probably many other people. I was sad, frustrated, confused.
I was told that, in the entire state, there weren't any platelets of my type (O-, the universal donor but really required O- in regards to transfusions) and had one bag worth of my blood which was bring driven from the capital to my hospital (about a 3 hour drive).
Things were seeming pretty desperate.
The charge nurse in L&D, along with my team of doctors decided that it would be best for me to be transferred to an ICU unit. This hospital had 9 and I would be transferred to the neuro-trama ICU. The reason they did this was for if things got really bad – the nursing staff are well equip & trained to handle high intense situations, the rooms are equip to pump a lot of blood into my body in a short amount of time - if I remember correctly, I believe they said 4 pints per minute.
Before I was transferred, my doctors made me sign a release giving them permission to do anything in their power to keep me alive which could result in a hysterectomy. Having read more about HELLP syndrome, many women end up with this result – this devastating consequence as obviously children in the future would be completely off the table. They explained that my condition was getting worse as my platelets kept on depleting and they would do everything in their power to save my life.
Obviously, this was terrifying news but I did my best to stay calm. So I was moved to the safest place I could be – the ICU. I went down in the L&D bed in the “special” staff elevators and my mom and husband went with the charge nurse.
While I was getting situated in my room – having a catheter put in.. also uncomfortable, unpleasant to say the least – my mom and husband were out talking with the nurse. The doctors had made us all feel as though I was going to die. So my husband straight out asked the nurse if they were going to loose me. She said no and explained further that they were going to have a low tolerance for any extra bleeding but had several measures in place before I would be rushed in for a hysterectomy or other procedures. I don’t know if this made him feel better or not because sometimes with Dr.s they have a tendency of telling you what you need to know and not necessarily the whole picture- which I guess is fair.
So, we get settled into my new room – the room is like 55 degrees. I’m burning up because of the magnesium and everyone else is freezing. In the ICU, they require having blood pressure monitored every 15 minutes. EVERY 15 MINUTESSS!!! That was obnoxious – and of course, every 6 hours dr.s were coming to insert more of the inducing medicine – often times coming right as the blood pressure cuff was going off. Both were painful – I hated both.
Night time falls and I attempt to sleep, yes, with the blood pressure cuff going off every 15 minutes and nurses and staff coming in periodically to get blood and vitals. I’m still sweltering and on the magnesium. I don’t believe my husband or mom slept at all that night. Both of them only had upright chairs. It was actually a blessing that they were able to stay – normally in the ICU family have to leave but my circumstance was special so they got to stay.
I also had 2 nurses basically at my beckon call – one from the ICU and one from L&D. Also, an odd coincidence – a L&D doctor was on a temporary rotation in the ICU – I believe she was present when I delivered but wasn’t the doctor who actually delivered Noah.
I wasn’t able to eat anything until after the baby was delivered. I think I may have had a ginger ale at one point – but honestly, I was too freaked out to worry about food or water. I knew I was getting everything I needed through the IV.
April 26:
This day was much of the same – blood samples and induction medicine, checking my cervix etc.
I got them to reduce the blood pressure readings to once an hour because my blood pressure had been fine all along. Although naturally the team of doctors would show up right on the hour to insert more of that medicine as the blood pressure cuff was going off.. always perfect timing!
I really wasn’t progressing but there was nothing that the doctors really could do – they had to wait, they had to be patient. Although at one point they inserted a foley ball to put pressure on my cervix – that didn’t really help either.
At one point, my platelets, liver and kidney functions stopped getting worse and began to get better. I believe my platetes, at their lowest got down to 28,000 (normally around 150,000 – 450,000) – never asked about the liver or kidneys. The doctor (one that we really didn’t care for because of his brutal honesty) explained that in all the cases of HELLPS he had only seen the mother’s functions turn around like mine once. He theorized that it was because the baby had already passed and the body was able to start turning things around on its own as if the baby had been delivered. At the time, he wasn’t sure if mine were going to turn around but they weren’t getting worse so he was hopeful for that.
I don’t know how the day passed but it seemed like we were always on a count down til the next time the lab would come or the doctors would return for more medicine and check up otherwise. Hospitals have a way of time warp – I don’t know how but then it was night again.
There was no change physically except my functions were on the mend.
I believe my mom and husband were able to sleep a little but not really. The nurses would bring them warmed blankets - which I'm sure felt amazing in my freezing cold room.
April 27:
It was about 6:30am when the doctor came to check my cervix and insert more medicine and finally, for the first time she was able to get a finger through - I had dilated a centimeter – so much so she could feel baby limbs and accidentally broke my water.
I’m not sure why, but she apologized over and over but then the labor pains kicked in.
And at this hospital, of course, shift change was at 7am.
Obviously, my case was very sereve and it was finally to the point where things could go really wrong (if they hadn’t already) so although I was ready to push I had to wait about an hour for my team of doctors.
I had this stupid pain pump which was not helpful at all – well it would help for like 10 seconds after I pushed the button every 10 minutes.
And of course, I haven’t been to any classes about breathing or staying calm during labor so, I’m just a mess.
So finally, after probably yelling at the OB doing her rotation in my unit, “Where are they?!!!!” (she was also frustrated) they finally showed up. I remember saying to them when it was time, “I don’t know what the baby’s gender is, so please tell me.” And two pushes later, out popped our baby boy. I had to ask what he was and they pretty somberly said, he’s a boy. I looked over at my husband, who had thought all along that he was a boy, and said, “You were right.”
Time stopped – 7:45am (remember looking up at the clock), the room became silent – I don’t know if people were talking or not but in my mind – the room was piercingly quiet. I watched our nurse take Noah from one side of the room to the other to get him cleaned up. That was the only thing I could focus on. But I believe the doctors checking/pulling on my umbilical cord to see if it was ready to come out. It wasn’t.
The nurse asked, “does the baby have a name?” We decided the night before that we would use different names then the ones we had already picked. And I said, “Noah” and looking up at my husband asked, “did you pick a middle name?” and he said “James.”
So our Dr., of course SO gently inserted more of that medicine to encourage the discharge of my placenta. I knew all along that those other doctors didn’t need to be shoving their whole hand in me – and I actually said that as she was putting in the last pill. I was so annoyed in that moment. And then she left and over comes our nurse with our perfect stillborn baby.
Again, I’m still on that magnesium and have limited mobility and control of my appendages. She give him to me and begins whispering the most beautiful words and we are crying holding him. I’ll never forget what she said, “he’s a perfect beautiful baby boy.” I of course kissed him on his little forehead and tried touching his forehead but that made him bleed because of his thin skin. She opened up him blanket so we could see his whole, little body. And she was right, he was perfect.
He looked just like his dad – big bushy blond eyebrows, a cute little mouth with little lips. I didn’t notice at the time but he had blond eyelashes. Perfect little hands and fingernails. I held his little hand – he didn’t want to let go <3 We looked at his tummy and his legs and he definitely was a boy ;-). I looked at his thin little legs but never looked at his feet. We’re blessed because our nurse took photos of his feeties for us.
My mom came back in the room (she left each time the doctors came to insert meds and I asked her to leave while I delivered him) – I said, crying, he’s a boy. We were all crying. We told her that his name was Noah James.
So, because of all the (unhelpful) pain meds, I really wasn’t feeling well after I had him. So our nurse took him back up to L&D to get him some clothes and take some photos of him. We turned out the lights and I was able to close my eyes for a few minutes. I didn’t sleep but wanted to feel better.
I don’t know how long she was gone for but she came back and he had a really cute little hat and a little gown on while wrapped in this beautiful blanket. She said, “I took some really really nice photos of Noah.” And I was thinking (as a photographer) yeah right lady, they are not nice photos, they probably look like garbage - you don't even know what you're doing. She also had this white bag that she put the CD of photos in along with his “birth certificate” that had his feet and hand prints, along with his weight, length, time of birth, etc.
My mom held him the majority of the time we had him. I still had to be on the magnesium for several hours after I delivered him and everything just felt weird, like my appendages. My husband did hold him a little.
At 4ish, my team of doctors came back to check on the placenta. She said they had been distracted by other emergencies which was probably okay for the release of my placenta. So she kinda checked around and was like, yeah, I think it’s ready how about you give a little push. Now we had Noah, my mom was holding him but didn’t leave this time. And it was my understanding (after the fact) that the placenta was where the most risk was in terms of excessive bleeding. So I had to push a few times to get it out and both my mom and husband were holding their breath until she said, “okay, it’s whole.” Later my husband recounts asking her several times, there’s no bleeding, everything is okay, she’s going to be okay. The doctor said yes, everything is fine and both my mom and him busted out crying. They had been SO worried over the placenta and if I would be bleeding and if they couldn’t get the bleeding to stop and if I would have to go in for an emergency hysterectomy, etc. I really didn’t know that there was so much pressure around this so I was kinda caught off guard. But everything was “fine” and good – I would be able to keep my uterus!
And now that it was all over, I could eat and drink again. So they ordered me chicken fingers and french fries – they were good but I felt like I wasn’t chewing and just swallowing whole bits of chicken – so that was unpleasant but was fine all things considered.
I would shortly, around 6pm be transferred out of the ICU back to L&D and it was after we got to our new room that we said “see you later” to Noah. Our nurse had found a local funeral home who would cremate Noah for free and that’s what we decided to do. They were constantly offering us counseling and pastoral care but we just didn’t want any of it. It would have been different if it was our own pastor, someone we knew but somehow my husband managed to pray for us each night.
Later that night, I was able to come off the magnesium and they were able to take out the catheter and really begin our journey to healing, and grieving. My medical journey was far from over but a major piece was done.
April 27 – May 4:
This was the remainder of my hospital stay. I kept spiking fevers in the mornings and was required by my doctor team to stay at least 48 more hours after each spike. I believe I eventually was diagnosed with phenomena and was treated with antibiotics.
One night I was really having a hard time and had some pretty serious chest pains (I believe I was having a panic attack) but they preformed a CT scan and an MRI – all ended up being fine.
I had excellent, excellent care from the nurses at my hospital – the food was terrible, but the people were amazing.
I finally got better – no more fevers, etc and I was finally released from the hospital. On our release day, our delivery nurse was back working so I got to really say good-bye to her. It was emotional leaving – we had been through this huge traumatic event and then we had to return to “normal” life without our baby and not being pregnant anymore. We had to go be real people again and well, that was hard – it still is hard.
About a week later:
I was instructed (although I never had any blood pressure problems) I had to go get my blood pressure taken at my regular physician. I’m sure I just looked like a shell of a human being in that doctor’s office - at least that's what I felt like.
But anyways, the nurse took my blood pressure. I’m not sure why but she told me to wait and she would go get my midwife.
So I waited and eventually she showed up. I hadn’t seen her since I was in the hospital. I remember her saying to me – you were just so sick – I was stalking your chart for the past week to see how you were doing.
I, of course was a blubbering mess. She had stayed at the hospital late before we were transferred. She had been up all night with patients and then stayed until 2 or 3 in the afternoon. I don’t know if it was because of me, but she made it feel like it was and her concern was so great. So, through my tears, I was able to thank her for her care and concern through out our pregnancy. I told her she was apart of the best day of my life when we first saw Noah. She spoke his name, somehow she knew his name – obviously it was in my chart somewhere. She teared up with with me as I spoke about the hospital and all that occurred.
It was in the aftermath that I learned more about her and her heart for women, babies and families.
We hugged and left. I would schedule another follow up meeting with her for a couple weeks later.
Our mid-wife was still at the hospital from being on call - so we checked in with the ER but was told to head straight to labor and delivery where she was. I was checked in and immediately our mid-wife began looking for a heart beat. After a few minutes of search, we saw one flash of his heart - she wanted a different machine to get a better look.
Meanwhile, the phlebotomists were trying to find a vein to draw blood and hopefully to put in an IV. They really struggled. Each site they looked for in my arms would collapse after each attempt. They couldn’t find a vein both arms - all over, near my elbow, in my wrist, in the fatty part of my arm - everywhere they tried.
30ish minutes later the new ultrasound machine arrived. The technician and mid-wife looked blankly at the screen as they searched for life in our baby - they found nothing. He was gone. I don't remember exactly what she said, but it was surreal, total out of body experience, I felt like I was watching myself react as she told me he didn't have a heartbeat.
Everyone left, but still no IV or blood had been drawn.
Hospitals have a way of time warping - I have no idea how long they gave us to process the passing of our baby. If I had to guess, it was about 20 minutes.
The phlebotomist along with a vein finder ultrasound machine came back into my room - and they finally found a vein. I could now finally get some liquids and medicine for my excruciating back pain.
Later, our mid-wife gave us the choice for leaving to deliver the baby naturally at home or to deliver him in the hospital. And because of the pain I was in, I decided that we should stay. They were able to give me some sort of magical pain killer right in through my IV - it worked instantly and all of my physical pain dissipated.
It wasn't until a few hours later that my lab work came back and the doctors realized how sick I actually was.
I remember my mid-wife coming back into my room and telling me I was very sick - I didn't really understand. What do you mean sick? I know I've been throwing up and whatnot, my back hurt and now somehow my baby is gone, but what do you mean sick? And they began to explain.. I had classic HELLP syndrome - I was in kidney and liver failure and my blood platelets were tanking by the hour.
I had to be transferred to a bigger hospital which was better equip to handle a case like mine.
I believe it was about 4pm when I was transferred. I got on the stretcher, they loaded me up in the ambulance and off we went. My husband followed behind in the car. It was my first (and only) time in an ambulance as a patient. I was nervous but they said that they weren’t going to have the lights and sirens going, so that made it feel a little less urgent.
The only thing that really transpired in the ambulance was one of the paramedics, almost immediately after loading me in asked me if we would try again for more children. Ughh… I don’t know! I just found out my kid was gone like 9 hours ago!!! Followed by, you’re really sick, sick enough that you can’t stay here and we can’t tell you what will happen from here. After that, I just closed my eye – I didn’t need to talk to her anymore.
So we arrived at the larger hospital about 45 minutes later. When you’re laying on a stretcher, you really can’t tell what’s going on, your just kinda laying there being wheeled around. Eventually we made it to my temporary room.
At the first hospital, I was put on magnesium which made moving my arms, legs, my body in general very difficult. I had to have this because I was at such a high risk for seizing. All my limbs felt like a 100 lbs. Additionally, due to my gestational progress (or lack their of), I couldn’t be on Piton – instead, they had to, every 6 hours, insert (with their whole GD hand it felt like) 2 asprin looking pills to my cervix. Yeah… real pleasant.
At this point my husband had already made calls to our immediate family letting them know we had lost the baby and that I was sick – we still didn’t really understand what sick meant but knew there was question about me being able to have kids in the future. My mom was traveling back from the mid-west that day and only briefly stopped at her home to swap out close before beginning her 4 hour drive to our hospital.
About 3 hours had passed since the last time the lab had come to take blood – they were monitoring my platelets, liver and kindey functions very closely. Each time, it seemed as though my platelets kept going lower and lower. We were mostly concerned about my platelets due to issues it causes with bleeding, or the inability to stop bleeding.
The consequences of a very low platelet count can be catastrophic and fatal. It also meant that the course of my care would be very strategic. The option for a c-section were basically off the table. I wouldn’t be able to have an epidural. I wouldn’t have had one even if I could because if this was the only pregnancy I was going to be able to have, I wanted to be able to feel, be able to know what it was like to deliver a baby.
So, like I said, my doctors were monitoring my counts very closely. Although I had an IV line, they can’t really draw blood from it, I’m not sure why but I know they said they couldn’t. So what seemed like ever 2 hours, the lab was coming for blood and well.. they were running out of options. Anywhere they could possibly find a vein, they stuck me. I had bruises for months after I got out of the hospital. They kept coming and coming for blood and there just wasn’t any other solution but to get a direct line.
A direct line, from my experience, is a surgically inserted “line” (for lack of a better word) into a main vein near your throat.
So of course, my doctor team is going back an forth regarding the risk of my low platelet count and needing this direct line. And after a platelet transfusion, I got the direct line.
About 6, 7 or 8 o’clock (I don’t remember exactly), the surgeon came directly to my room – I thought that was weird. But with her, she brought a sonogram machine so she could see into my throat to find the vein she would use. After injecting a local anesthetic, she inserted the (what we would find out later was a 9-10 inch long) tube into my vein. Overall, less than pleasant, nerve racking as hell, but ended up being okay. Now my nurses could draw blood, I could receive transfusions quickly if there was complications with my platelet count etc, etc. The surgeon was trying to be kind, trying to make me relax, make me laugh even. As you can imagine, the situation was very serious and consequently, I was very serious.
I didn’t really understand what was happening and it was all happening so fast – I was probably regrettably rude to her and probably many other people. I was sad, frustrated, confused.
I was told that, in the entire state, there weren't any platelets of my type (O-, the universal donor but really required O- in regards to transfusions) and had one bag worth of my blood which was bring driven from the capital to my hospital (about a 3 hour drive).
Things were seeming pretty desperate.
The charge nurse in L&D, along with my team of doctors decided that it would be best for me to be transferred to an ICU unit. This hospital had 9 and I would be transferred to the neuro-trama ICU. The reason they did this was for if things got really bad – the nursing staff are well equip & trained to handle high intense situations, the rooms are equip to pump a lot of blood into my body in a short amount of time - if I remember correctly, I believe they said 4 pints per minute.
Before I was transferred, my doctors made me sign a release giving them permission to do anything in their power to keep me alive which could result in a hysterectomy. Having read more about HELLP syndrome, many women end up with this result – this devastating consequence as obviously children in the future would be completely off the table. They explained that my condition was getting worse as my platelets kept on depleting and they would do everything in their power to save my life.
Obviously, this was terrifying news but I did my best to stay calm. So I was moved to the safest place I could be – the ICU. I went down in the L&D bed in the “special” staff elevators and my mom and husband went with the charge nurse.
While I was getting situated in my room – having a catheter put in.. also uncomfortable, unpleasant to say the least – my mom and husband were out talking with the nurse. The doctors had made us all feel as though I was going to die. So my husband straight out asked the nurse if they were going to loose me. She said no and explained further that they were going to have a low tolerance for any extra bleeding but had several measures in place before I would be rushed in for a hysterectomy or other procedures. I don’t know if this made him feel better or not because sometimes with Dr.s they have a tendency of telling you what you need to know and not necessarily the whole picture- which I guess is fair.
So, we get settled into my new room – the room is like 55 degrees. I’m burning up because of the magnesium and everyone else is freezing. In the ICU, they require having blood pressure monitored every 15 minutes. EVERY 15 MINUTESSS!!! That was obnoxious – and of course, every 6 hours dr.s were coming to insert more of the inducing medicine – often times coming right as the blood pressure cuff was going off. Both were painful – I hated both.
Night time falls and I attempt to sleep, yes, with the blood pressure cuff going off every 15 minutes and nurses and staff coming in periodically to get blood and vitals. I’m still sweltering and on the magnesium. I don’t believe my husband or mom slept at all that night. Both of them only had upright chairs. It was actually a blessing that they were able to stay – normally in the ICU family have to leave but my circumstance was special so they got to stay.
I also had 2 nurses basically at my beckon call – one from the ICU and one from L&D. Also, an odd coincidence – a L&D doctor was on a temporary rotation in the ICU – I believe she was present when I delivered but wasn’t the doctor who actually delivered Noah.
I wasn’t able to eat anything until after the baby was delivered. I think I may have had a ginger ale at one point – but honestly, I was too freaked out to worry about food or water. I knew I was getting everything I needed through the IV.
April 26:
This day was much of the same – blood samples and induction medicine, checking my cervix etc.
I got them to reduce the blood pressure readings to once an hour because my blood pressure had been fine all along. Although naturally the team of doctors would show up right on the hour to insert more of that medicine as the blood pressure cuff was going off.. always perfect timing!
I really wasn’t progressing but there was nothing that the doctors really could do – they had to wait, they had to be patient. Although at one point they inserted a foley ball to put pressure on my cervix – that didn’t really help either.
At one point, my platelets, liver and kidney functions stopped getting worse and began to get better. I believe my platetes, at their lowest got down to 28,000 (normally around 150,000 – 450,000) – never asked about the liver or kidneys. The doctor (one that we really didn’t care for because of his brutal honesty) explained that in all the cases of HELLPS he had only seen the mother’s functions turn around like mine once. He theorized that it was because the baby had already passed and the body was able to start turning things around on its own as if the baby had been delivered. At the time, he wasn’t sure if mine were going to turn around but they weren’t getting worse so he was hopeful for that.
I don’t know how the day passed but it seemed like we were always on a count down til the next time the lab would come or the doctors would return for more medicine and check up otherwise. Hospitals have a way of time warp – I don’t know how but then it was night again.
There was no change physically except my functions were on the mend.
I believe my mom and husband were able to sleep a little but not really. The nurses would bring them warmed blankets - which I'm sure felt amazing in my freezing cold room.
April 27:
It was about 6:30am when the doctor came to check my cervix and insert more medicine and finally, for the first time she was able to get a finger through - I had dilated a centimeter – so much so she could feel baby limbs and accidentally broke my water.
I’m not sure why, but she apologized over and over but then the labor pains kicked in.
And at this hospital, of course, shift change was at 7am.
Obviously, my case was very sereve and it was finally to the point where things could go really wrong (if they hadn’t already) so although I was ready to push I had to wait about an hour for my team of doctors.
I had this stupid pain pump which was not helpful at all – well it would help for like 10 seconds after I pushed the button every 10 minutes.
And of course, I haven’t been to any classes about breathing or staying calm during labor so, I’m just a mess.
So finally, after probably yelling at the OB doing her rotation in my unit, “Where are they?!!!!” (she was also frustrated) they finally showed up. I remember saying to them when it was time, “I don’t know what the baby’s gender is, so please tell me.” And two pushes later, out popped our baby boy. I had to ask what he was and they pretty somberly said, he’s a boy. I looked over at my husband, who had thought all along that he was a boy, and said, “You were right.”
Time stopped – 7:45am (remember looking up at the clock), the room became silent – I don’t know if people were talking or not but in my mind – the room was piercingly quiet. I watched our nurse take Noah from one side of the room to the other to get him cleaned up. That was the only thing I could focus on. But I believe the doctors checking/pulling on my umbilical cord to see if it was ready to come out. It wasn’t.
The nurse asked, “does the baby have a name?” We decided the night before that we would use different names then the ones we had already picked. And I said, “Noah” and looking up at my husband asked, “did you pick a middle name?” and he said “James.”
So our Dr., of course SO gently inserted more of that medicine to encourage the discharge of my placenta. I knew all along that those other doctors didn’t need to be shoving their whole hand in me – and I actually said that as she was putting in the last pill. I was so annoyed in that moment. And then she left and over comes our nurse with our perfect stillborn baby.
Again, I’m still on that magnesium and have limited mobility and control of my appendages. She give him to me and begins whispering the most beautiful words and we are crying holding him. I’ll never forget what she said, “he’s a perfect beautiful baby boy.” I of course kissed him on his little forehead and tried touching his forehead but that made him bleed because of his thin skin. She opened up him blanket so we could see his whole, little body. And she was right, he was perfect.
He looked just like his dad – big bushy blond eyebrows, a cute little mouth with little lips. I didn’t notice at the time but he had blond eyelashes. Perfect little hands and fingernails. I held his little hand – he didn’t want to let go <3 We looked at his tummy and his legs and he definitely was a boy ;-). I looked at his thin little legs but never looked at his feet. We’re blessed because our nurse took photos of his feeties for us.
My mom came back in the room (she left each time the doctors came to insert meds and I asked her to leave while I delivered him) – I said, crying, he’s a boy. We were all crying. We told her that his name was Noah James.
So, because of all the (unhelpful) pain meds, I really wasn’t feeling well after I had him. So our nurse took him back up to L&D to get him some clothes and take some photos of him. We turned out the lights and I was able to close my eyes for a few minutes. I didn’t sleep but wanted to feel better.
I don’t know how long she was gone for but she came back and he had a really cute little hat and a little gown on while wrapped in this beautiful blanket. She said, “I took some really really nice photos of Noah.” And I was thinking (as a photographer) yeah right lady, they are not nice photos, they probably look like garbage - you don't even know what you're doing. She also had this white bag that she put the CD of photos in along with his “birth certificate” that had his feet and hand prints, along with his weight, length, time of birth, etc.
My mom held him the majority of the time we had him. I still had to be on the magnesium for several hours after I delivered him and everything just felt weird, like my appendages. My husband did hold him a little.
At 4ish, my team of doctors came back to check on the placenta. She said they had been distracted by other emergencies which was probably okay for the release of my placenta. So she kinda checked around and was like, yeah, I think it’s ready how about you give a little push. Now we had Noah, my mom was holding him but didn’t leave this time. And it was my understanding (after the fact) that the placenta was where the most risk was in terms of excessive bleeding. So I had to push a few times to get it out and both my mom and husband were holding their breath until she said, “okay, it’s whole.” Later my husband recounts asking her several times, there’s no bleeding, everything is okay, she’s going to be okay. The doctor said yes, everything is fine and both my mom and him busted out crying. They had been SO worried over the placenta and if I would be bleeding and if they couldn’t get the bleeding to stop and if I would have to go in for an emergency hysterectomy, etc. I really didn’t know that there was so much pressure around this so I was kinda caught off guard. But everything was “fine” and good – I would be able to keep my uterus!
And now that it was all over, I could eat and drink again. So they ordered me chicken fingers and french fries – they were good but I felt like I wasn’t chewing and just swallowing whole bits of chicken – so that was unpleasant but was fine all things considered.
I would shortly, around 6pm be transferred out of the ICU back to L&D and it was after we got to our new room that we said “see you later” to Noah. Our nurse had found a local funeral home who would cremate Noah for free and that’s what we decided to do. They were constantly offering us counseling and pastoral care but we just didn’t want any of it. It would have been different if it was our own pastor, someone we knew but somehow my husband managed to pray for us each night.
Later that night, I was able to come off the magnesium and they were able to take out the catheter and really begin our journey to healing, and grieving. My medical journey was far from over but a major piece was done.
April 27 – May 4:
This was the remainder of my hospital stay. I kept spiking fevers in the mornings and was required by my doctor team to stay at least 48 more hours after each spike. I believe I eventually was diagnosed with phenomena and was treated with antibiotics.
One night I was really having a hard time and had some pretty serious chest pains (I believe I was having a panic attack) but they preformed a CT scan and an MRI – all ended up being fine.
I had excellent, excellent care from the nurses at my hospital – the food was terrible, but the people were amazing.
I finally got better – no more fevers, etc and I was finally released from the hospital. On our release day, our delivery nurse was back working so I got to really say good-bye to her. It was emotional leaving – we had been through this huge traumatic event and then we had to return to “normal” life without our baby and not being pregnant anymore. We had to go be real people again and well, that was hard – it still is hard.
About a week later:
I was instructed (although I never had any blood pressure problems) I had to go get my blood pressure taken at my regular physician. I’m sure I just looked like a shell of a human being in that doctor’s office - at least that's what I felt like.
But anyways, the nurse took my blood pressure. I’m not sure why but she told me to wait and she would go get my midwife.
So I waited and eventually she showed up. I hadn’t seen her since I was in the hospital. I remember her saying to me – you were just so sick – I was stalking your chart for the past week to see how you were doing.
I, of course was a blubbering mess. She had stayed at the hospital late before we were transferred. She had been up all night with patients and then stayed until 2 or 3 in the afternoon. I don’t know if it was because of me, but she made it feel like it was and her concern was so great. So, through my tears, I was able to thank her for her care and concern through out our pregnancy. I told her she was apart of the best day of my life when we first saw Noah. She spoke his name, somehow she knew his name – obviously it was in my chart somewhere. She teared up with with me as I spoke about the hospital and all that occurred.
It was in the aftermath that I learned more about her and her heart for women, babies and families.
We hugged and left. I would schedule another follow up meeting with her for a couple weeks later.