You can read Part I here.
As I sat down in the wheelchair to be wheeled over to the hospital, all I could do was pray. Pray for our health, our safety and for me, peace and trust. Peace and trust with whatever God had planned for us.
What I hadn’t realized yet was where exactly I was going. Not just Labor & Delivery, but Labor and Delivery triage. On the way over I was given paperwork to start filling out so that I could be admitted. I’m not sure my hands have ever shaken as much as they did while I was trying to fill everything out. I was wheeled up to the triage desk, gave them my paperwork and was wheeled into the triage area. It reminded me of the triage areas you see in Emergency Rooms. That definitely didn’t help ease the fears at all. On the way over, I texted my boss to let her know I wouldn’t be making it back to work and let her know that I would keep her updated on the situation.
Once in triage, they had me pee in a cup again and then change into a lovely green hospital gown and bright yellow non-slip hospital socks. I think I may actually still have those socks. I keep weird things. Once I was in a gown, they had me lay down on the rock-hard bed (really uncomfortable for a preggo lady) and the nurse came in to start her assessment and get me admitted. This took quite a while since I was asked pretty much every question under the sun about my health, Nick’s health, our families health, health before and during pregnancy, my wants and needs for the birth and afterwards, etc. It was intense. When I was done answering questions, I was hooked up to a belly monitor (beyond uncomfortable) and a BP cuff that would go off every 5 minutes while they waited for a room to be ready for me.
Once a room was ready, I was wheeled over. I really had no clue that the room I had just been wheeled into would be the room where we would welcome our son into this world. Once they wheeled me in, a few different people started to come into the room. One nurse came in and hooked me back up to the belly monitor and BP cuff. Another nurse came in to draw blood (to check all of my labs again – main reason I was being admitted) and insert an IV in the event I needed fluids. She drew my blood successfully but when it came to my IV, she had problems. She tried twice and then told me that they have a policy that they bring someone else in after they’ve been unsuccessful two times. So another nurse came in and she tried and failed. I think she was pretty new so she didn’t want to try more than once. The next nurse that came in I am pretty sure was the charge nurse because she came in like she meant business and had two students following her. She decided to try and insert the IV in the same place as the first IV. She basically jammed that thing in my vein. It hurt SO bad but she got it in. And for that I was thankful because I was tired of being stuck (if I thought I was tired of being stuck then after 5 sticks – 4 IV and 1 blood draw – I had another thing coming).
At this point, I was left alone for a little bit. I requested a lunch meal (since it was now around 1:30pm and I hadn’t eaten lunch yet). They brought my food – a turkey sandwich and chips. I don’t normally eat deli meat but I was starving so I ate it. So happy I did because it provided my body with fuel that I would later need. I made a few calls while I waited for Dr. Johnson to come in. I called Nick to let him know everything was fine, not to worry and to stay at work. I could tell he really wanted to be with me, but he was so close to hitting bonus at work (for the first time) and I really wanted that accomplishment for him. I called my mom. I started out the call with “don’t freak out, but they admitted me to the hospital.” At this point, I really was trying to keep things light and not have anyone freak out. I was really hoping everything was fine. I told everyone not to freak out, that the doctor was just covering the bases and that I’d be home that night. I also called my boss and my coworker to let them know the situation. I finished my lunch and watched a little tv. When I was reading blogs that morning I had come across this picture and saved it on my phone. While I was laying in the hospital bed it popped in my head again and I felt compelled to post it to Instagram and Facebook.
I posted this right before Dr. Johnson walked into my room. She sat down on the edge of my bed and when she looked at me, I knew it was bad. She told me that the blood work came back and my liver was failing and my platelets had dropped substantially. She said it was time to get Conner out. That hit me so hard. I knew there was a chance that I’d have him early but I never thought it would be 7 weeks early. Was he ready? Was I ready? Would everything be ok? I tried to focus on Dr. Johnson and what she was telling me. She told me it was time to get Nick up here. Immediately. She knew how important having a vaginal delivery was to me so she wanted to give me that option (with induction) but if I didn’t progress in 3 days (or sooner depending on my labs) that I would be having a c-section. I definitely didn’t want that. One of the best things about Dr. Johnson was she didn’t let Nick or I know until after the birth how bad things were. She was protecting us both. Even though we had only known her a week, she already knew how emotional of people we were and kept the severe information from us because we both would’ve panicked and she wanted to keep Conner as safe as possible. She told me that we would begin the induction process that night and that I needed to be put on magnesium (to prevent seizures) and an IV, have a catheter inserted, hourly blood draws, BP checks every 15 minutes and not be allowed to eat or drink. Even though at the time I didn’t realize how severe things were, I knew this was pretty bad.
After Dr. Johnson left, I made the call to Nick. To let him know he needed to find a way to the hospital (at this point we were still carpooling and I had the car that day) because I was being induced. Even after talking to Dr. Johnson I was still trying to be calm. Until I talked to Nick. I broke down in tears when I told him our baby would be coming into this world early, whether he/we were ready or not. He was freaking out but said he’d get to the hospital ASAP. I’d find out later that he almost passed out at work and his boss had to catch him. The next call was to my mom and again all I could do was cry. I told her it could take up to 3 days and she said she would get down to Corpus the next day but to let her know for sure when we thought he was going to be here so she could get here on time. After I talked to my mom, I called my sister and my bestie and I texted a few close friends. I think at this point I had gotten the crying a little bit under control. I needed to be strong for our little man. God was definitely working within me.
A lot of the details from this point on are a little fuzzy due to the drugs they had me on. Part III coming soon (it’s taking a while to write!).