There is my baby, not on the inside, but on the outside, itty bitty teeny weeny but very healthy and happy and safe.
WUT? Didn't I just post my first official bedrest update yesterday??
Anyway, here's what happened. After I posted that bedrest update, I got up to take a potty break and I noted that the fluid leakage was even more pink than normal. Super pink bordering on red and I just didn't feel right about it. So I reported it to my nurse and she said it could be just a normal result of the ruptured membranes, but why don't we go ahead and get the baby on the heart rate monitor just in case.
Ah, there's that sweet sound. But wait....now I don't hear it so well anymore. Try rolling over. Okay, great! There it is we'll just watch it for about 30 minutes and....wait, I can't hear it again.
Commence chasing Ms. Helen all over my belly with the heart rate and contraction monitors. Okay, I think this spot is good. Just stay at this exact angle.
Then the doctor came in and said that since her strips were normally fantastically excellent and this one was basically only rising to the level of mediocre and since we hadn't had an ultrasound since we got here on Tuesday, we should go ahead and put me on the ultrasound list for the morning.
"Hang out on the monitor. There are one or two gals ahead of you and then we'll scan Helen and then we'll decide from there."
So I turned on ye olde Fixer Upper, wedged my hip in the exact uncomfortable position that would allow us to keep Ms. Thang on the monitor, and tried to stay perfect still waiting for my playdate with the ultrasound.
And then I had a contraction. One very real, undeniable contraction and at that same moment, Helen's heartbeat disappeared. Poof. Silence.
I snatched up the telephone to call my nurse, telling myself that maybe the belt had slipped. That hopefully I was overreacting. But it turns out I didn't need the phone because all of sudden there was my nurse standing there already, followed very closely by the doctor on duty, followed very closely by whichever additional nurse he had grabbed when he also saw the no good, very bad thing.
Tears start streaming down my cheeks. "Is she okay? What just happened." And there's here heart beat again, thanks be to God. But every time I moved in the non-right way or I had another contraction (and at that moment, I had apparently started to have them. Timing whoa.) her heartrate would plumment.
Doc: I can't imagine anything that would me allow me to ignore this and justify keeping her in there anymore, not after seeing all this.
Me: Oh, uh, okay. Yeah. I understand.
Doc: and it doesn't really matter if she is breech or head first because there is no way she will be able to tolerate labor contractions if that is her response to them right now, so an induction is off the table. We need to do a c-section and, you know, do it right now.
Me: *sob sob sob* Okay, yes, I *sob* totally agree. Is she okay? Like right now will she be okay?
Doc: She is as okay as possible, but she will be more okay if we can get her off her umbilical cord, so let's get her out of there.
There was no better option, despite the fact that my peanut was just 32w3d old. The lack of fluid meant no buffer between her and the cord, so when my uterus pressed onto her, she pressed onto it and cut off that crucial supply of oxygen from the placenta. Yikes.
I grabbed the phone (hip still shoved in painfully awkward position) and called Tommy. He was just parking the van at Mass. The kids had already gone inside ahead of him and were waiting in a pew. Not for long! All he could do was to walk in, put on an excited, happy face and whisper "we have to leave NOW guys. Right now. Let's go."
Cue weirdness and panic to varying degrees. But it worked out. T dropped them off at home and then some of our closest friends agreed to go over as well (Tommy's idea) and feed them burgers and fries and pizza (their idea because they are awesome.)
Hours that were actually only minutes later, Tommy arrived. Into some scrubs. Booties over the shoes. We looked so stylish in our matching blue fabric shower caps.
Then they whisked us back. It was definitely a well-oiled-machine moment and I was so grateful that I was already here when everything started to go awry.
And so on March 13th, 2016, I had my very first c-section, just hours after claiming that we would be waiting two more weeks and maybe I could even have a vaginal delivery. Hah! Us people and our plans...
Helen Margaret Borobia
Born on 3/13 weighing in at 3lbs 13 oz
She pinked up and cried almost immediately and was given apgars of 9.
Initially she didn't even have oxygen, just the feeding tube since she can't suck/breathe/swallow yet, but this morning they needed to start her on some antibiotics and also put in the nasal cannula with literally the least amount of "help": 21, whatever that means.
So now we wait. I'm trying to pump, but after a good first day, this second day has been terrible. Barely even droplets of milk chillin' at the bottom of the already tiny bottle. Blergh. I'm going to try to pump while I have her on my chest later and see if that doesn't help at all. fingers crossed and all the prayers up
Thank you so much for the prayers that have gotten us this far. We would be so lost without all of you.
St. Helena, St. Margaret, St. Roderick (on whose feast day she was born), pray for us!