Waking up on October 30, 2017, it was meant to be like any other day. I made Hendrix breakfast, left him with my husband and went to my 30 week prenatal appointment (yay alone time). My obstetrician had said my blood pressure was elevated (150/90s) and she would like me to go to the hospital. My blood pressure hadn't been high my entire pregnancy until that appointment.
I called my husband, obviously freaking out and went to the hospital alone. Clearly I didn't want Hendrix to sit in a germ infested hospital if I was just going to be sent home a few hours later. I initially went to the Labor & Delivery for a protein test and blood test. By the time I had gotten there my blood pressure was 180/110. Did I forget to mention I don't like elevators, hospitals, needles or doctors? Of course my blood pressure was higher once they took it. I WAS FREAKING OUT! Obviously I was instantly admitted and told I wouldn't be leaving the hospital without a baby. When I was 36 weeks pregnant with Hendrix, I was told this exact thing.
All of the feelings that rushed through my body and thoughts that ran through my mind were overwhelming. Do babies even survive at 30 weeks? I googled and googled and googled. Word to the wise, never google when your sitting in a hospital bed. Bad idea! Many IV sticks later, they finally got an Anesthesiologist to do my IV because, guess what? My veins are hard to stick *cue tears*. AJ and Hendrix arrived just in time for them to tell me I was being transferred to a different hospital because they weren't "equipped" to care for babies born younger then 34 weeks.
One 25 minute ambulance ride later I was in a very nice, large, labor and delivery room. I honestly think that if I didn't have so many different medications pumping through my veins, I might have had a mental breakdown. Restricted diet, hourly blood sugar finger sticks (more needles!), catheters, what fun! Have you ever been on a magnesium drip? I was for Hendrix and all I remember was being so out of my mind, I nearly slept through birthing him. Hearing the words, "your going to have magnesium again", I lost it. Giving birth to Hendrix was a blur because of that stuff. I wasn't even able to care for him 24 hours after having him because I could not keep my eyes open. Magnesium drip = safe mama = safe baby.
Many magnesium bags later, my blood pressure was less critical and I was moved to a "recovery room" (yay no more magnesium or catheter!). They had every intention on keeping me in that room for 4 WEEKS. Yes I said it, 4 weeks in 1 room. TORTURE! But you do what you have to for your kids. I missed Halloween with Hendrix, talk about soul crushing. We were so excited to dress up and walk around the neighborhood. Luckily enough, my amazing sister flew down to take him out. Thanks Fannie!
While in my new home, I was able to talk to a NICU doctor about all of my fears, how the baby would be taken care of once I delivered and her odds of survival (who says that?), (90% by the way). I'm liking my odds. Every few hours a nurse would come in to check my vitals, check baby and ask me a billion questions about how I was feeling. "Do you have a headache, pain on the right side of your belly, see spots, blurry vision"? 2 days later, on Friday night I woke up with a terrible stomach ache on my right side. I thought to myself, "isn't that the spot they always ask about"? That pain, along with my BP starting to creep up again got the nurses and doctors worried.
Within an hour, I was taken to a Labor & Delivery room and induced. Hello contractions, yikes epidural, hello more pain. The first epidural gave me a crazy reaction that nearly cost me my life. My blood pressure was down to 60/40s. I was cold, couldn't open my eyes or respond to the nurse. It was like a weird outer body experience. You know its bad when you hear one of the sweetest L&D nurses SCREAM on the call button speaker for some help because her patient isn't responding. I survived. Then the epidural fell out, another 2 epidurals later, finally some relief. I was able to go to sleep for a few hours then woke up in pain and boom, time to push.
There was a team of at least 10 people in that room. Goodbye privacy. Within 10 minutes Zoe James was born, crying. 2lbs 9.2oz. You think its an amazing feeling to hear your baby cry when their born? Imagine having a 30 weeker that has a 90% chance of survival. She sounded like a kitten, but she was my kitten with strong lungs. She was born on "room air" which means she didn't need any intervention to breathe (you go girl!). After making sure she was healthy and warm, I was able to hold her before she was whisked away to the NICU where I wouldn't see her for another few hours. And that first time I saw her was an experience all in its own. Her NICU story is for another day! I think I've cried enough tears writing this one. Zoe's birth definitely wasn't what I had planned for, or wanted, but I wouldn't have traded it for the world. She's here, happy, healthy, thriving and truly a miracle!
