7/21 thursday pm: i had my 36 week check-up and the dr. confirmed that he was still breech. she recommended either doing a version soon (where they manipulate him to turn him head down) or scheduling a c-section in a few weeks. wanting a natural birth, i told her that i wanted the version and we scheduled it for 6 am the next day.
7/22 friday am: we got to the hospital and they stuck a monitor on me for about 2 hours before the dr. came in to do the version. during that time, his heart rate had been stable and constant except for two significant dips. the dr. took one look at that and got a concerned look. she said that usually means that there is some sort of cord compression. she got out the ultrasound and said my amniotic fluid looked extremely low. she said she wouldn't do the version, wanted to get a measurement on my actual fluid levels, and then we would "talk." i was wheeled down to radiology for an ultrasound and then brought back up and placed on a saline drip for more hydration.
7/22 friday pm: the results came back from the sonogram with the baby measuring normal, but the fluid around him only measuring in the 3rd percentile. she decided to keep me overnight to continously monitor the baby's heart rate and to pump me full of fluids. they would measure the amniotic fluid again in the morning. needless to say, it was a pretty restless night for both marcus and myself in the hospital room.
7/23 saturday early am: first thing in the morning, i was wheeled back to get my follow-up ultrasound. i was hoping for a miracle, but there was no change at all. the dr. called and filled us in on our only two options...sit in the hospital on constant monitoring and fluid iv for as long as the baby would tolerate it or get him delivered today by c-section. since 24 hours worth of fluids hadn't done any good and he was already 36 weeks along, she recommended the latter. we were briefed on how his lungs might not be fully developed just yet, but that he was far enough along that it most likely wouldn't have any lasting effects. we decided it was the best option. within 30 minutes, i was being prepped for surgery and marcus was getting on his scrubs. the pediatric nurse came in to talk more about his lung development and i told her i was sad that i would miss out on skin to skin contact with him right away. she winked at me and said, "the anethesiologist might not like it, but i promise i will put him on your skin as long as he is doing ok." i teared up a little at the thought of how all of this was about to become so real. they loaded me onto the stretcher and we were off to the operating room.
inside, they were jamming to some jazzy tunes and chatting it up. i honestly felt like i was in a dream. it was all so surreal and quick. spinal tap in. catheter in. curtain up. enter doctor. enter marcus. slice, pull, crying. i honestly have to say that there was kind of an absence of emotion during the last portion. it was such a foggy moment. they just took HIM out of ME? that crying ball of skin and bones belongs to me? is this all happening? marcus agrees that his feelings were very similar....somewhat vacant and in disbelief. they took the baby to the warmer and did his apgar scores. 10 is the highest and he scored an 8 at 1 minute old and a 9 at 5 minutes old. since he was doing well, she kept her promise and brought him over to me. she set him on my chest, still covered in his waxy smear, and marcus kept him propped where i could see him. i was in such a haze trying to take it all in that i didn't even to notice that he started turning purple. i kissed on his dirty little shoulder and tried to get a good look at him before the nurse whisked him away. marcus sat by my side to see me through the stitching up, but the nurse kept calling, "come on, dad" and took him out with the baby. i spent the rest of the operation shivering and dazed, completely oblivious to what was happening just outside in the nursery.
7/23 saturday am: despite his healthy start, the baby was starting to have difficulty breathing. they put a "hood" of oxygen over his little head, but when it didn't seem to help, they put an oxygen cannula into his tiny nostrils. by this point, i was in the 2 hour recovery room with my nurse, still unaware of the challenges he was facing. marcus came in to check on me and gave me the update. i didn't feel terribly concerned because they had told us this was likely to happen and that oxygen usually helps. after an hour or so, the nurse wheeled me, gurney and all, into the nursery and right up next to his warmer. by this point, things were starting to turn south. he was lying there in a diaper and hat, hooked up to an iv and the nasal cannula. he was breathing, but with each breath, he wheezed with a grunting little sound as his chest and nostrils pumped in an unnaturally labored fashion. it was heartbreaking. they put him on my chest again and i tried to soak it all in. i desperately wanted to just breathe for him, but we were both powerless to help. the nurse began to explain that he was getting enough oxygen, but he wasn't expelling enough carbon dioxide. he didn't have enough surfactant in his lungs to keep the aveoli open, so they would stick closed with each breath. because the hospital does not have an intensive care unit, an ambulance was on its way to intubate him, give him some surfactant, and take him downtown to the children's hospital. the emt team came into my recovery room with him strapped into a nicu stretcher. they gave me a small "transfer towel" and had me wipe my scent all over it for him. i got to say goodbye and then they were on their way.
7/23 saturday afternoon: i don't think this news really hit me until i started to snap back to reality several hours later. they had just taken my hour old baby far away from me. he was sick. he was helpless. and i could do nothing about it. marcus stayed with me for quite a while and then we agreed that he should go to st. louis for a few hours to be with blake. we had been waiting to officially name him until we could take a good look at him. absorb his little face. see what name he "looked" most like. since we hadn't gotten that quality time, we decided that blake seemed to stick and that was going to be it. marcus left and then i began to feel truly alone. no baby bundled up inside me anymore. no baby to speak of at all. and my precious husband was off taking care of him now. he texted me a few pictures of sweet blake, now sporting a giant tube down his airway, arms strapped around him, sleeping under the spell of a sedative. i had to cry at the sight and thought of this overwhelming situation. i couldn't help but feel selfish and guilty for not letting him stay in me just a little bit longer. a thousand "if only" thoughts flooded through my mind as i sat on one side of the river and my FAMILY sat miles away on the other side.
7/23 saturday evening: marcus returned to help me through my first night of recovery. he truly was to be my rock over the next 7 days and nights. he took care of my needs in the most giving, loving and diligent way, while balancing the back and forth transfer between hospitals and patients. our emotionally exhausting journey from hospital to home was just beginning...
skin to skin in operating room....notice the purple tinge :(
oxygen hood attempt
family pic after getting the news that he has to go to the nicu
breathing tube, iv, sedative....snuggled up with the "mommy scent" blanket
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