The days that followed

So now I was back in my room. I could tell they had me far away from the other mom's there, who all had their babies with them. There was at lease 2 empty rooms between me and them, and I was right next to the nurses desk. I was offended and thankful at the same time.

Ray and Faith were there waiting on me. Tonya and Faith stayed with me for some time, waiting on the release forms for the placenta. The nurse I had was horrid, I didn't even know who she was for some time, she just flat out ignored me for the most part. Finally got tired of waiting, and it was to the point, of fine, it's not that important to them, lets just sneak it out. If they remember later, I'll sign the papers. So Faith snuck it out for me.

I started asking for a pump from everyone I could possibly ask who came into my room. I kept getting told, it will be a minute, ask your nurse, just a second. My tech, who was very sweet, finally told me she would bring me the stuff, but she didnt know how to set it all up, and that way I could just corner my nurse the next time she came in. When she did show me how, she was less than hospitable.

I also asked her when I could see the baby, and she said it was up to the doctor. I would have to stay on the mag for 24 hours after birth. Another thing I did not know about the mag. I was to tired to argue at that point, and figured I would be up when the doctor came in the morning and would just argue more then.

I pumped about 10ml of colostrum, and had Ray take it to the baby. I had no idea when they would start feeding him, but wanted him to have that instead of formula.

I tried to sleep, I really did. I was up every 3 hours to pump though. I starred at the few pictures I had of him already while I pumped. I was only able to get a few drops per side after the initial 10ml I got the first time. I found I could hand express better in the end, until my milk came in.

At 5am, I was up for the day. I wanted to see my baby. I felt more and more like I didn't know who he was. I had to see him. I couldn't remember what he looked like, what he smelled like. I needed to be with him. Ray had been going up to see him every 3 hours when they did their hands on with him and to take the few drops I could pump. I had only seen him maybe a total of 10 minutes his whole life.

The doctor finally came in around 6am. Said I could definitely go see the baby, but I had to have a nurse wheel me down, I should still be on bed rest until the IV was removed. I didn't even have the energy to fight about the mag right now, they said I could go see Jaxon, and that was about all I had heard.

When my nurse came back in, I told her I wanted to go see the baby. She told me I could that evening, and not before, I was still on the IV and couldn't go down until it was gone. I think she honestly expected me to roll over and take it.

After trying to explain, nicely, that the doctor had okay-ed it, and I wanted to go down ASAP, she still wouldn't budge. I finally told her it wasn't an option I was giving her. Either she found me a way to go down, with the IV, or I would remove it myself, and she could prepare AMA discharge papers, that would be her call, but I was going to see him one way or another.

It was about 7am at this point, and I was in the process of peeling the tape off my arm to remove the IV, still arguing with the nurse from hell, when my new nurse came in. God bless shift change. She asked the other one to leave, and introduced herself. She was the charge nurse for the floor, and she would fix everything. She apologized and said if I would please give her 20 minutes to go check on her other patients, she would wheel me down personally. Finally, someone understands. Ray had just sat in the corner quietly through all of this. He knew not to get in the way of maternal instinct he later told me. I was doing fine on my own.

After all the chaos, I couldn't get there fast enough. It was quite the sight, having to drag everything down with me. But I made it. I was only able to stay for about 15 minutes, and I spent every second down there staring at his face, his fingers, touching him. Everything started to feel a bit more in place, as I realized more and more, I would recognize him anywhere. I didn't have to worry about not knowing him, no matter how long we didn't see each other.

The nurse told me that as soon as the doctor came in he would probably take him of the c-pap on put him on the cannula, which is a bit less scary looking. It was off the next time I was able to go down. Looking much better.

After that, I was able to go down 2 more times before they took the IV out at 7 that night. It wasn't out for 5 minutes and I was walking down by myself. Sometime in the middle of the day they had him on the bili lights for jaundice, but they were off again the next morning.

Ray was supposed to go home that night, he had to return to work the next day. He had just started a new job the month before, and had no paid time off yet. I had asked a few people if they wanted to come see him, and a friend of ours, Darla, had come to visit.

We went down to see Jaxon, and I had asked when I could hold him, not expecting to be able to that night, thinking they would probably tell me they had to check with the doctor the next day. Surprisingly she said I could then.

They wanted him skin to skin, and so I put on a gown backwards, with only my bra on and got to hold my baby for the first time since right after he was born. This time I got to really hold him. And touch him, and smell him. I know I cried, but I fought the whole time not to completely break down. I was secretly afraid if I went hysterical they would take him away from me. And I was also terrified I would hurt him, he was so tiny. It was scary trying to keep all the cords and wires straight. But so worth it.
I visited him every 3 hours, when the fed him. Stayed for an hour, and went back to my room to pump, which took an hour, and then had about an hour to rest, before I started the cycle again.

Ray was at work on Thursday when I got discharged. My mom had the girls and the boys were at school. I had seen the boys the night before for about 10 minutes, and they had gone to meet their brother for the first time. I hadn't seen the girls since I had been taken in the ambulance the Sunday before. They came to pick me up, and I took Kassidy to see Jaxon for the first time. She actually did really, really well. She has a heart condition, SVT, and has been in the hospital a few times, and she pointed to all the wires, telling me what they were for. She asked if she could kiss him, and I picked her up to let her. She did awesome.

My mom had one of those carts to carry my stuff on, and got me and Kayla in the car. She took Kassidy with her to drop the cart off back inside. That's when it hit me. I was leaving my baby at the hospital without me. I wouldn't be able to go to him whenever I wanted. I just started sobbing. I completely broke down, as silently as I could so as not to scare Kayla who was in the back seat. I cried and cried and cried.

We went and picked up the boys from school, and my mom dropped me off at home. I was with the kids for only a few hours, maybe 2, and my Aunt Liz came and took them all to her house for the weekend, so I could rest and spend as much time at the hospital as I could. It was so hard telling them goodbye again. I felt like my whole family was being torn apart. Kayla especially didn't understand, and I couldn't even take her to the NICU to see him, she just knew I didn't have a belly anymore, and she want at home with her mom and dad for some reason. But I had to be at the hospital. It was horrible having to pick the lesser of 2 evils. The plan was for them to come home on Monday.

As soon as they left, I was out the door again to go to the hospital. Over the next few days I was there as much as I could be, and called several times in the middle of the night when I was supposed to be resting. I pumped every 3 hours, and just as I was getting scared hey were going to have to give him formula, my milk decided to come in. My car broke down twice that weekend alone, and my husband was off Saturday and Sunday. Sunday at church my Aunt brought the kids, and I couldn't stay away from them any longer, so they came home early.After the kids were home, on Rays days off, I was at the hospital all day long. On the days he worked, I had someone watch the kids so I could go up for 3 or 4 hours, and then I went up again as soon as Ray got of work, from 7, to about 11 or midnight. I was still pumping every 3 hours.

Jaxon slowly did better. They started tube feeding him, and weaning him off the IV, slowly. After about 5 days, they let him try from a bottle. That was our biggest issue, trying to teach him out to eat from a bottle. It was frustrating, they didn't want me to nurse, but wanted him skin to skin as much as he could be. He would root around and want to nurse, but then they would want me to pump so if he latched on he wouldn't get anything. It was another fight. I finally put my foot down and said I was just going to do it and to get over it. He still had trouble nursing though, and we finally found out it was tongue tie after he was already home.

It as easier for me to look forward to the little milestones, than him going home. I asked the doctors every day, what is the next step, the next thing he has to master before we can move on, and I spent all day and the next praying he do that one thing. He usually did by the next day or the day after that. When his doctor started saying they sill weren't going to let him transition to the next step because he wasn't technically "supposed" t be doing the one yet, I prayed that God let the doctor see his progress, and not hold him back if he was ready. He had a new doctor the next day. His original had been called to work at a different hospital.

Every day he amazed me with how strong he was. I grew more and more confident with him. I wasn't nervous anymore about holding him, and could maneuver the wires and everything on my own. I held him every second I could, and didn't put him down unless someone told me they needed to do something on him. At 3 days old he was off the cannula. May 30th, no IV. June 2nd, no more tube feedings, he was taking all by bottle, and I was attempting to nurse at every feeding as well. June 5th, he was in his new bed, weaning him to self regulate his own temperature. This was the home stretch.

On the 8th I stayed the night with him in a transition room, the first time he was all mine. A nurse came and checked on him a few times in the middle of the night, but he was all mine.

June 9th, after 16 days in NICU, I got to bring my baby boy home. He was up to 6lb 14oz, and growing and doing so well. My mom had kept the kids the night before, and she dropped them off about an hour after we got home. I finally had all my family under one roof again.

Birth Story - Unexpected hospital delivery, 7 weeks early

Monday evening (5-23-2011) and Tuesday (5-24-2011)- Labor and delivery

They started the pitocin off very, very slow. What was weird though, is that I was already starting to have more frequent and stronger braxton hicks before they started it. This actually calmed me down about the anxiety of him coming early and my decision to let them induce. I figured if my body needed him out so bad that I was starting to contract on my own, it must have been the right thing to do. True or not (and it made much more sense then) the thought made me feel better, so I clung to it.

I didn't sleep at all that night. I expected them to start labor already, but they kept the low dose going to ripen my cervix. Frustrating. I had given birth to 4 large babies. This was #5, and going to be very small, lets get this going already!

They came and checked me every few hours. Around 4am I was 1 cm, and they broke my water. Clear, and a lot of it. They had told me they couldnt do a version earlier because my fluid was low. Bull. I woke Ray up and we talked for a little bit.

My mom showed up that morning, and Ray went to go eat. My new nurse came in at 7, and I adored her!!! She was so funny. She grabbed a chair first thing and asked me about the placenta plans. Said she had been to a hippy party in the 70's where they had grilled placenta, but she didn;'t try it and didn't think anyone did stuff like that anymore, and wanted to know the benefits. She seems very sincere and impressed. Said she had a bag with ice in it, and a tub, they would put it in one bag by itself, and place that in the bag with ice, in the tub with more ice. It would be in the room with me the entire time and would be free to leave with whoever as soon as I signed the medical release after birth.

She also told me they were talkign about me non-stop at the nurses desk. She had heard quite a lot abotu me fighting not to have the c-section, and she thought it was pretty cool to have an informed mama that day. Told me good job and she would be behind me 100%. That was good to hear. I won't ever forget her.

At around 10am I was still not hurting, only about 2 cm, and sane enough to get on facebook still. I think Tonya and Faith came by again, but not sure. I want to say Faith had appointments that day and decided not to come. I know Tonya was there later on, but not sure when she got there.

Later in the day I started to get back labor, and said hell with laying in this bed. I would get up with every contraction, and hug on Rays neck and just sway side to side. We must have done that for hours, but I really have no idea the time at this point. I knew once I got to about 4-6 cm, I would deliver almost immediately, but everyone kept saying how different this would be because he was a preemie and my body wasn't ready. I didn't care, I knew better. But alas, they came to check me again, still at 2 cm.

I must have been at 2 cm for hours. I was so tired. I would sit on the bed, with the back all the way up, and lean over and sleep inbetween contractions, and stand up and either sway or squat with Rays help during them. Over, and over and over again. I started trying to fall asleep standing up. It was Tuesday afternoon, and I hadn't slept for more than 3 or 4 hours total since Sunday morning. Nor had I eaten. I knew my body was worn out and refusing to go any further without rest. The doctors came in and were talking in the corner to eachother about things like "failure to progress" "maxed out pitocin" and things like that. I knew they were devising another cesarean attack on me, and the nurse told me I would be able to avoid it if I got the epidural. So I did. Tonya, bless her, kept me together emotionally. I didn't want the epidural. I didn't want anything to do with drugs today. But I took it.

Earlier in the day, the anesthesiologist had come in to talk to me. I told them I didn't want the epi, and when she asked why, one of the reasons I gave was that I didn't want him to have trouble breathing, and I knew they had narcotics in their epidurals there. She had tild me she would order one from pharmacy, narcotic free, just in case. I was glad now that she had done that.

It didn;'t work though. I should have listened to myself from the start. I had a horrible hot spot on my lower abdomen. And there was nothing I could do about it. I just rolled back and forth, in agony. Life was such a blur then. I know they came and tried to replace the catheter in my back to fix it, and that it didn't work. Just pain, and I was stuck and couldnt move to relieve it. More than that I was mad at myself. I knew better. I knew this was a possability. And I let myself down.

I know we called Tonya back, she had left for a while. And I tried and tried calling Faith again. Or Ray did. I wasn't in shape to do much of anything but ask for her. She didn't show up until after he was born.

I was glad to have Tonya there though, and so thankful that she had volunteered to be with me.

I became really inward around now. Now I know it was transition, but at the time... I kept telling myself it was to early. I was, afterall, only 2 cm. I started debating on if I should just get the cesarean. I was emotionally and physically exhausted. I was in the middle of a great internal debate. Wanting the cesarean, and trying to assess myself from a doula perspective on wether this was a rational thought, or a transition, psycho lady thought. I was to the point of grabbing the next doctor who came in and begging for it when the pain changed. So instead, I asked to be checked. I was at I think 4 cm now. I told Ray they needed to get the room ready, and things were getting intense. Shortly after, I was at 6 cm. Like, maybe 10 minutes later. They finally started listening, and started getting the room ready. I had one more contraction, and told the nurse, who I had not seen before, not sure where nure wonderful was at that time, that she needed to check me again, I needed to push. A doctor walked in then and put one glove on.

When she checked me, his head was right there, and there was a bunch of yelling to get the NICU team in there immediately, and the bed warm, etc. I was so scared. I didn't want to push, I wanted hm to stay with me. Would he cry? Would he breathe? Would I get to look at him, hold him, or would they just take of with him?

I guess some part of me realized that the doctor was litterally holding his head in with her one gloved hand waiting on everyone to set up. I finally looked at her and told her no, I am pushing, she said go ahead. One small push, and the slightest release of pressure, I asked Tonya if his head was out, and she said yes. Oh my God, he was so small. One more push and he was born. After my 10lb daughter, it took nothing pushing him out.


The most wonderful sound in the world. He cried. HE CRIED! He was okay. The bed was still intact, and he was between my legs right there on the bed. Because of how I was laying and the epidural I couldn't see him, but I reached down and touched him, afraid it was my only chance. I finally got myself propped up with my legs still numb to take a peek at him right as they were taking him to the table. I found out later from the NICU doctors that his APGARs were 8,9.
My husband stayed with him next to the warmer while they worked on him, dried him off, and wrapped him up.Then they let me hold him for just about 2 minutes. I couldn't believe how small he was. But he was okay, breathing, and opening his eyes. I started to hand him to Ray to hold him for a second, and the nurses grabbed him and walked out the door with him. Ray followed.

Jaxon Riley was born at on May 24th, 2011 at 33weeks 1 day. Weighing 5lbs 8oz, and 18 3/4 inches long.

With me not planning a hospital birth, many things on my birth plan went completely out the window. Everything that happened to this point basically. And it just got worse. I had to threaten to kick the doctor that was pulling so hard on my cord I thought my uterus was going to fall out. Then she wanted to manually inspect my uterus, and proceeded to do so by sticking her hand in there. I swear if my legs were more operable she wouldn't have dared.

Ray came back soon after. It was quiet time in the NICU and he wasn't allowed to stay but a few minutes, but could go back later in the evening. I asked when I could see him, and the nurse (new one now, mine got off at 7) told me she would wheel me down for a few minutes on the way to my postpartum room upstairs, but then I probably wouldn't be able to see him again til morning. She also reminded me I needed to start pumping as soon as I got upstairs. She brought me something to eat, finally.

And Faith showed up. I was somewhat ambivalent to her by now. She had been MIA during so many times that I had needed her the last several hours. Several times the last 6 or so hours we had asked her to come by with us, and she didn't show until it was over.

On the way up to the room, Tonya came with me to see Jaxon again. Ray took my bags and everything else up to the room, and would be back down late on.

It was so shocking to see him. He had an IV in each hand, with cotton balls taped to the inside of his hands. He had wires all over him, watching his oxygen, breathing, and heart rate. And he had the c-pap on his face to help him breathe. The nurse stayed there with me and explained what everything way, trying I guess to make it look less scary. She said the c-pap was on zero oxygen, but giving him little extra pressure so his lungs didn't have to fight so hard to stay open. He didn't move. He didn't open his eyes. What all had been done to my baby in the short hour I was gone from him. http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifWhat else would I not be able to save him from.

After just a few minutes, they said it was time to go. I had to leave him, again.

Read here about our NICU journey.

Things so did not go as planned :( part 3 - decisions made

Monday May 23rd, 2011 - midnight and on

Nurses started to come in periodically around midnight, keeping me awake. I think I got maybe 20-30 minute spurts of sleep totaling around 1 1/2 hours the entire night. All the usual stuff, BP, temp, etc. Then the extras I had gotten used to, reflexes, pupil dilation, memory stuff. Every hour. Oh, and they had started a 24 hour urine collection at around 7 o'clock. I assumed to test for pre-e, but of course no one told me. I found this kind of funny because on admittance to triage they said my proteins were fine.

Finally about 2 am, the nurse came in with half a sandwich and a small cup of OJ. She said the doctor had the results and she knew how hungry I was so she asked him if I could eat before he came in. God bless that nurse. I was starving. So I got to eat and then try and go back to sleep. Didn't happen however, around 1 another doctor came in to talk with me, said he didn't have the results though, just to ask me some questions.

When the original doctor came in at 2 with the results he said all was fine from what they could see. I asked him again what he was looking for, and he jut shrugged and said various things, but not to worry, all was normal. I asked him if this meant I could go home the next day, and he said the urine was a 24 hr and I had to stay at least until that was done. I figured I could handle that.

I woke Ray up to tell him what they had said, and we talked for a while. Then I tried again, with no luck, to sleep.

At about 5 am a new doctor came in. Explained to me that some of the test results were coming back questionable, and I need to prepare myself that I may be delivering by the end of the week. I asked her why. She said I was showing more and more protein in my urine, and while my BP was still fine, I was also showing a few more signs of advanced pre-eclampsia. I started to argue with her, no we weren't going to deliver early, I was feeling much better. I had complete sight back by now, and only about a square inch numb spot on my right cheek. She told me to calm down, no decisions would be made for certain until we got the 24hr urine back, and she just wanted me to prepare for the possibility, nothing was set in stone.

She left, telling me to get some sleep, like that was a possibility at this point. Ray got up as she was walking out. We talked a little, he said we had time, like the doctor had, and we would call Faith in the morning and get another opinion to go by if we had to. I told him not to tell my mom, she would just freak out and stress me out too, and he agreed. I told him finally to go back to sleep, I was going to need rest by morning. I got on facebook instead. And then I prayed. And prayed, and prayed some more. I prayed that my body be strong enough to fight whatever was going on and to let me carry to term. I prayed for strength to fight whatever came next. I prayed that my son be healthy and whole if he did have to come early. I prayed for answers.

Around 6:30am breakfast came. I was starving still, half a sandwich had barely been worth a damn in my empty stomach. I had maybe 3 bites when an ultrasound tech came in, said she wanted to ultrasound my neck. Ray was still asleep on the couch in the room, so we kept the lights down and got to work on the next test.

She was almost done, and another new doctor came in the room. She started immediately with "So, are you ready to have a baby today?" My heart sank. No, I absolutely was not ready to deliver my son 7 weeks early. He wouldn't be able to breathe, suck on his own, keep himself warm. What would he look like, with no chance to gain body fat. He wasn't ready yet. This was not the absolute best start I could give him. No. Just that simple word, no, kept rolling around in my head.

I told her before we even discussed it further, I had some questions that had been unanswered since I got there the afternoon before. I wasn't discussing another thing with anyone until they were. She grabbed a chair then, told the ultrasound tech to give us a minute (she was about done she said, so she packed up and left anyway), and sat down. Finally someone was going to level with me.

The doctor, who apparently was THE doctor over my case, the head off all the other piss ant doctors who had been coming in ignoring my questions, explained to me that my results were quickly going downhill. But what about the 24hour urine, weren't we going to wait for that? My proteins were raising significantly with every urine dip they did. My kidneys were functioning significantly less with every blood draw. My platelet count was dropping, and had been perfect when I came in, but was now slightly less then normal. Not enough to cause extreme concern, yet, but the fact they had dropped every blood sample they got was concerning. She just looked at me and said again, it as time for him to be born.

I was speecdhless. Couldn't even form a coherent thought in my head to ask a question, or for more time. I mean, I was feeling better. Why couldn't I stay in the hospital under monitors and doing tests to buy him another few days, few weeks? I wanted to reach over and wake my husband, I didn't want to have this conversation, or to start this fight, on my own.

They chose this time to come in and take my blood pressure. 150something / 90 something. This sealed the deal as far as the doctor was concerned, she said she was preparing the paperwork to get me moved downstairs to L&D. She asked me about my previous vaginal births, and said there shouldn't be a problem with just inducing instead of having a cesarean. I asked her when we were doing this, and she said immediately, I should be downstairs within the hour, and started before lunch. At that note, she asked how much I had eaten, and took my tray out of the room.

I just started sobbing. Ray woke up and of course wanted to know what was wrong, reaching for the nurse call button. I guess he thought I was hurt or something, I just told him we were going to have the baby today. I explained the whole thing to him as best I could through tears. He sat on the bed with me and just hugged me.

My mom texted me at some point complaining about a list of things she had to get done that day and how hard it was all going to be on her. This is typical of my mom, she makes life as hard as possible it seems, and then wants to complain because it is the way she makes it. I don't remember exactly what it was that made her upset that morning, but I wrote her back and just told her I didn't have time for it right now, I had to much going on with my self, and if she had anything else go wrong that day, it needed to wait. She asked me what was wrong, and could she call me. I told her to go outside (she was at work, after dropping my kids off at school) and I would call her cell. I told her I didn't need to hear any opinions, or worries, I had enough of my own, so please just be there for me and not stress me out over it. She agreed, very worried, and I told her. She was frustrating to say the least. She was worried about what they had said about me, which I had barely given a passing thought. All the results, etc, didn't worry me in the least, except for the impact they had on the baby. He was my concern, the rest I couldn't have cared less. I understand her concern, I was worried about my baby, and she was worried about hers. But in the moment, I didn't have time for it. I think I was still trying to come up with a plan to get out of it.

Nonetheless, she said she would come up to the hospital soon. I really wanted to just be alone with Ray, but he was planning on going home, getting the animals taken care of, and taking some stuff for our girls over to Alisha and Ryan's house for a few days, since I was obviously not going home. So I was left alone in the hour or so in between when he left and my mom showed up. I had had my mom bring my bible up the night before, and I started scouring it for healing scripture I had flagged when Kassi had been sick and in the hospital. I tried calling our church and realized it wasn't open yet.

I called WIC to see about getting a breast pump, knowing I would need it because Jaxon would most definitely be in the NICU. Found out the breastfeeding counselor I had been talking to for the last few weeks, and grown to like very, very much, had a preemie herself. She shared her story of the NICU with me, said she would be thinking of me, and to please update her as soon as I could.

And of course I updated facebook. I looked to facebook for a way to update everyone, to cut down on phone calls and having people ask a ton of questions. It was also a kind of therapy for me as well.

I texted Faith, thinking ahe was probably still asleep, and she wrote back saying she had a meeting and would be at the hospital as soon as it was over.

I think planning for what I could control helped me stay sane in the next few hours, days. It was all happening so fast. 24 hours earlier, I was blissfully, uncomfortably pregnant, getting my kids ready for church, planning on a great day.

My mom showed up finally. I think she was afraid of what to say, but wanted to be there with me.

I finally got through at the church. He gave me some thoughts on where to look in my bible, and asked me to update them when the baby was born. And of course prayed with me and for the baby.

Ray came back. Once he was there, he asked how the baby was doing. I realized I hadn't felt him move in a while, and panicked. I called the nurse and asked if she could go ahead and check his heart rate for me. He was fine and we all figured it was just the stress that had him still.


L&D showdown - the first of many
They finally wheeled me upstairs. Faith showed up and shortly after that my mom went to go run some errands. She texted me later that she wanted to give me some time with Faith, she felt she was in the way.

Faith started going over all the results I knew about so far with me, and all her records, etc. She kept saying of course she would support me in whatever decision I made, but she didn't understand why they were inducing me. Some of the results could have been a direct result of me not eating for over 24 hours. Some of them could be monitored to see if they got worse in the next few days. It started a huge internal struggle. Should I fight them? I knew when I chose Faith as my midwife, that she was extremely confident in natural remedies, and very wary of anything medical. I knew thet if it ever came to a medical decision, I would be on my own in making the decision, as she likely wouldn't rationally consider all sides. But she did give me a lot to think about.

Faith and Ray went ahead and left to go get something to eat. As starving as I was, they didn't want to eat in front of me.

I had another awesome nurse by the way. She was great, most of the nurses I had were great, nothing to complain about there. She came to check on me and set up something else in the IV. I asked her what it was and she said magnesium for my blood pressure. I asked her how much trouble it would be to decline it, and she smiled and told me I could decline whatever I wanted, and laid the bag back down. We talked a bit about how I wanted the induction to go, and I told her a bit about my past labors and how I usually progressed. Very fast once I got to 4-6 cm, but I usually took my sweet time getting that far. I asked her a few questions about what to expect. How were they going to induce? What would the baby look like, really small of course, and skinny? Would I be able to hold him before they took him away? She asked me if no one had let me talk to a NICU doctor yet, and seemed upset I hadn't, said she would get one down here to answer all my questions.

When he came in, I felt a lot better. He told me he had had 3 babies born around 33 weeks in the last week, and all 3 only needed minimum help breathing. He pointed out how great it was I had already had one steroid shot, and with me laboring and not having surgery I would probably have time to get the second one, too. He also said unless there was some unforeseen problem, I would definitely be able to hold him, but only briefly, before he left the room, and that Ray could go with him when they took him to NICU. He did say that he would be given an IV immediately, and probably a feeding tube in the next 24 hrs. And that I needed to start pumping within 3 hours after birth. They would provide a pump during my hospital stay, and labels and bottles bring colostrum and milk to the NICU for him. He explained to me the NICU shuts down for 2 hours twice a day for quiet time, and some of the other things to expect when I got down there. I asked when I could see him, and he said they should wheel me down there on the way to my postpartum room, and it would be up to my doctor when I coud get out of bed on my own to visit him. I asked how long babies usually stay in the NICU born at this gestation, and got the vague, every baby is different, answer I am sure most NICU mom's get.

My mom and Faith came back now, Ray had gone to visit the girls who had called and missed us, worried about me, and needed some daddy time.

The doctors came in to do an ultrasound again. They had also done one when I was admitted, and he was head down. He had been flipping a few times a day for the last several weeks, so it was not a surprise to me that he was breech when they scanned this time. It took me a second, but one look at the doctors face and I knew what it meant. They wanted to do a cesarean.

I asked him "What now?" already knowing the answer, and he, of course, said they would go ahead and prep me for surgery. If I wasn't so scared and just completely emotionally drained, I probably would have laughed at the expression on his face when I told him no. I think, in fact, my mom did laugh a few times. The conversation that followed was more than frustrating for the doctor I am sure, but there was no way I was backing down on this. I asked him why the urgency. He said it wasn't possible for babies to be born breech vaginally. I raised my eyebrows at him, and told him it was probably because there weren't competent doctors that knew how, but that as far as my body went, it was very possible. I had to explain to him that wasn't exactly what I had meant though. I wanted time to let him turn. I didn't want to risk delivering him vaginally as small as he was, most definitely his head was still quite larger than his tiny body, I didn't want to risk it with a preemie. We went back and forth a bit, and I finally asked him again, what the urgency was. When he said it would be easier because the doctors were already there, and the OR open, it made me smile, just a little. It wasn't because my health was deteriorating so quickly it had to be done, it was because of their convenience. Again I told him I could wait.

He eventually asked me if I was outright refusing, and I smiled and said, yes, I am. I told him I wanted to have the second steroid shot, and things weren't so bad off I thought we needed to deliver him immediately. I was going to give him the best start I could, and if I was having to deliver early, I wouldn't take away a natural birth as well. He actually asked me if my husband would feel the same way. I got the impression that they would try and get his permission to do it if I wouldn't give it myself. He even told me about a girl who was on drugs, who they had to call the ethics comity on and get a court order to preform a cesarean. He didn't outright say he would do that to me, but again, I got the hint. I finally told him I wanted to talk to my husband and see what he said, and no matter what decision was made I was waiting until 6pm so I could get the second shot. He conceded, and asked if he could talk to my husband when he got back though, I said fine.

My mom wanted to know what the big deal as about the cesarean. I wanted to scream... Not at her really, but through frustration. I wasn't the kind of girl who could have a c-section and not come out unscathed. I knew in my heart of hearts, it would throw me into a deep depression if I did. Not only that, but the baby would be away from me for longer, more trouble breathing probably, and I would be recovering from surgery, with 4 kids to take care of, having to drive back and forth to the hospital to care for a newborn in NICU, no thanks. How did I go from planning a home birth, doing everything right, to sitting in L&D fighting not to have surgery and fixing to give birth to my son 7 weeks early.

When Ray came back, I told him what they wanted, and he agreed no cesarean at first. I had the doctor come in to talk with him, and he told Ray he was worried about leaving him alone with 5 (or4) kids and either a dead wife, or a dead wife and dead baby. He said the reason my sight was messing up was because my retinas were detaching from my eye and pooling blood probably. I knew then I wasn't making a decision on my own, this was affecting him too. He just had to look at me and I could read his face. I asked him "You want me to go ahead with it don't you?" He didn't want to say it, but I knew he did. He just told me that while I was thinking only of the safety of the baby and how it would affect him being born early, he had to think about me, the baby, and the older 4 at home. I couldn't argue with that. Until then I had planned to still fight the cesarean if it went past my deadline, but I knew after this conversation, I wouldn't have been able to. So through tears, I told him it was okay, he was apologizing to me, and I resigned myself to the possibility.

And that's when he turned the conversation over to the magnesium. Why wouldn't I take the mag. He pointed out my one high blood pressure reading, and I told him to take it again while I was under less stress. They had taken the one while in the process of telling me something that had completely turned my world upside down. I told him if it got to high I would agree, but not before. My mom was pretty scared about this, but like earlier, I wasn't concerned with myself. He again threatened the ethics committee. They took my blood pressure again (going off every 15 minutes now, ugh, what a pain!)it was high again, and they were driving me absolutely nuts. I finally asked him if he would give me the 6 hour window to get the shot if I agreed to the mag. That appeased him, and so I agreed.

He left the room saying I had just under 6 hours to turn the baby, and he would be back to check later. They came in to give me the Mag. At some point I asked a friend of mine who was also a doula to come be with me. Tonya was great. I think she was here when they started the mag, but not 100% at that. Same with Faith, not sure if she was there or not. I know one of them was, but not both of them...does that make sense? With so long without sleep and so much going on, my brain started to get fuzzy.

The nurse who started the mag explained I would need a catheter, um, I did not know that about mag. Never having a client that needed it, I hadn't researched it like I had so much other birth related things. She explained that I wouldn't be able to get up and walk around, and I would have a super high dose for 30 minutes I think t was, may have been less, again, this is getting fuzzy. And then they would turn it back down so the really bad symptoms would go away. But still had to be in bed.

So, I was going to be bed bound. Great. This scared me. How was I going to have a natural labor, in bed, unable to move, nothing to drink or eat, and as tired as I was. I didn't really want to think of a cesarean an option yet, I wouldn't let myself think that way.

After they started the Mag, i could feel the fire in my veins. It started spreading through the IV into my arm and just spread from there. For all you Twilight nuts out there, I felt like Bella described when she changed (I'm a dork, I know) Maybe I am being a bit dramatic, but I really don't think so. I had Ray go get me some more ice, I had it in bags on my chest and head. (I had already had one bag, trying to turn the baby by putting it on his head, in my ribs at the time) I kept thinking, if I feel this bad, what is Jaxon going through? Is he suffering too? That thought bothered me the most I think. Longest time of my life, I couldn't wait for them to come turn it down. I briefly considered mutiny, tearing the IV out and running home to gestate for another 7 weeks or longer. I calculated my odds and figured they would be at my door with police and the "ethics commitee" for sure if I did though, and no one I knew would hide me under the circumstances. I was stuck.

They turned it down and within minutes I felt better. I don't remember exactly when the put the catheter in, if it was before the fire and I just didn't notice it, or afterwards. Anyhow, I had one after the fire stopped. It burned, bad. Like it was in wrong, or something, it felt like a horrible UTI. I asked her to take it out. She said to give it a few minutes, and lets just say, after a few minutes I finally told her do it now, or I will, and she removed it. I told her a bed pan would be fine, since I couldn't get up. That was her excuse of not wanting to remove it, because she would have to come help me on the bedpan. Like I cared, your a tech, it's kind of your job. This was the tech by the way, the one that did blood pressure, temperature, etc, not my fab nurse who I liked.

Now I had another job to do. Turn Jaxon head down. While I was supposed to be in bed. It felt like an uphill battle. The ice was helping some, I could feel him kind of turn his head to my right side, kind of transverse, and then pop right back over to breech. I was massaging my tummy, pushing leaning and moving different ways. Tried finding a heating pad for my lower abdomen, but couldnt find one. I drank some pop (snuck in by my husband, hehehe) hoping the caffein would get him active and hopefully move him. Got in the knee-chest position to get his bottom out of my pelvis and give him some more room to get moving.

I even stood on the side of the bed doing lunges. Ths freaked my mom and Ray out. Ray stayed silent, my mom,however, did not. I told them if they were worried to come help me stay stable, but I was was fine on my own. Apparently the mag didn't have the same affect it does on everyone else. I felt steady as ever, could have walked the halls if I wanted to. My head was a bit fuzzy though, had a hard time thinking straight and focusing. Not sure if it was the mag, or just sleep deprevation in general.

And I prayed. I even put a prayer request on facebook. I prayed that if Jaxon was healthy enough and my body could withstand it, that he help me give birth to him vaginally. God created women't bodies to do this a certain way, and I wanted him to come that route if everything was safe. I prayed that if things were not safe, that God gave me the strength to undergo the surgery without fear and guilt. I started resigning myself and trying to convince myself I would indeed survive if I had to have the c-section I so feared. I hated that, it felt as if I was giving up on myself.

Had a doctor walk in one of the times I was lunging, I had my mom on one side and Ray on the other, ready to cath me, and was right next to the bed so if my knees buckled, I would just fall back to sitting. Not that I thought they would, but it seemed to make everyone else around me feel better. The doctor about freaked out, grabbed her chest and gasped, I thought she would fall over. Started raising her voice at me, saying I wasn't supposed to be up, etc. It was actually quite funny once she stopped shreiking.

They had an ultrasound tech come in and do a full scan of the baby, who was still breech at this point, but kind of tilted with his head in my ribs to the right. She was very good, told me about the NICU and how at his size he would do great more than likely. Showed me he was makign the breathing motions necessary, and said he would weigh around 5 lbs, which made me feel better. I think in my mind I was assuming a 3-4 lb baby, even the NICU doctor said usually babies born around then are 4lbs give or take. We got a lot of pictures from her as well. Dont have my scanner conected right now, but will post them later.

At around 5:45, the nurse came in and checked again his position. He had been flipping side to side, and summersaulting now, so I had no idea his position. He was laying perfectly transverse. Back down, limbs up, head on my right, and butt on my left. The doctor walked in, and she told him, he looked shocked. I placed my hand firmly on my left side, right under bis butt, and told them both I still had 15 minutes. I didn't honestly leave much room for arguement. I put the ice on top of his head on my right side, stood up, with Ray and my mom freaking out because I was by myslf on that side of the room and gave no warning, and started doing lunges, while trying to push him into place.

I felt him flip as the doctor was coming back in. He laid the papers he was carrying on the table right by my bed, they were the surgery consent forms, and started the ultrasound machine. He was head down. I was extatic! He looked shocked. The nurse came in with the clippers to shave me, and he told her we didn't need them, I thought her jaw would drop to the floor.

I never thought I would say the next words that came out of my mouth, but I seriously asked when we could start the pitocin. I didn't want to give him any chance to flip again. They thought that was funny, but went ahead and got things started a little before 7 o'clock. I got the steroid ahot again as well. They did an ultrasound every 2-3 hours to double check his position until he was born. Talk about stress.

Faith and Tonya left, saying they would be there whenever I needed them, just call. At some point too, not sure if it was that evening, or the next day, Tonya started getting messages from Danielle, who was supposed to do my placenta encapsulation. The thought hadn't crossed my mind, and I am so glad she reminded me of it. I said something to the nurse about wanting it not to go to pathology, and she had a doctor come in and ask my why, which was a fun conversation. He did consent to it though, but not willingly, after I told him they could take a small quarter size sample for pathology. We did end up keeping it, and getting it encapsulated was the best thing I ever did. More on that in a later post though :)

Labor and Birth of Baby Jaxon in the next post :)

Things so did not go as planned :( part 2 - shock of a lifetime

May 22nd, 2011 - in hospital triage, awaiting decisions
So here I am, at the hospital, hooked up to monitors and a blood pressure cuff (which was still looking pretty darn good, averaging at my normal, around 120-130/70ish) just kind of hanging out with my mom in this super small uncomfortable bed in the crappiest triage room ever. The numbness started to fade slowly from my arm, and at about 3:30 I suddenly remembered where Ray worked at. It was the strangest thing, I looked at my mom and just said the words. So we got on the phone trying to reach him. I got the companies answering machine, and left a message, thinking no one would get it until the next day with it being Sunday and the front office being closed. Just my luck. Left another text for him to come to the hospital after work.

At around 4, 2 doctors, and 3 or 4 nurses came into the room. Hooked up an I.V., and wanted to do a pap, gbs, and check dilation, etc. I had been having my usual braxton hicks8-10 minutes apart. I figured they were getting stronger because I knew I was dehydrated (I hadn't had anything to eat or drink since before church that morning, around 10 o'clock or so) and had asked for a drink and if my mom could get a snack a few times, but they kept saying no, not until they knew what was wrong with me.

I started to deny the vaginal exam, etc, as I had when I was there for my kidney infection a few months earlier, but my mom was freaking out when I tried to, and they seemed pretty serious that they needed to do the gbs test, so I let them. That should have been my first clue they were thinking of delivering early, but it didn't dawn on me. I just thought they were worried about the frequency of my BH's, which I knew were normal for me. I was of course, closed, thick and firm when they checked dilation.

I told them my numbness was going away from my arm and my memory had improved, so they did another set of tests on my reflexes, the funny faces, and memory games. The doctors said they would probably keep me overnight for observation, and probably do an MRI in the morning.

Sine I was staying my mom decided she would go ahead and leave, pick my boys up (the girls were going to stay with Alisha and Ryan, and the boys with my mom), bring me up some clothes, etc and let the boys visit me for a minute. Derek was pretty worried about me and wanted to see for himself all was okay. So she left.

I tried calling Faith again a few times while I was in triage and left one message saying they were going to admit me after my mom left. I was getting more than a little upset with her at this point. I also texted Ray a few more times, and called his work again. Why was everyone ignoring me when I obviously had important stuff I needed them for!

Then I just sat and prayed. I didn't know what was wrong with me, or why everyone was freaking out so much, but I just wanted understanding and strength while I was stuck in the hospital. I sat there daydreaming about going home and thinking how lucky I was that I didn't have to have the horrid monitors etc on me when I actually gave birth, this was just a hiccup along the way. Still no doubt in my mind I was going home the next day and having my baby at home, a lot closer to his due date!

May 22nd, 2011 - being admitted and the chaos that follows

I was finally wheeled up to my new room, on the high-risk antenatal floor. Fun. As I was being settled in I was still asking for something to eat, which I was denied, no drinks either.

The nurse (whom I absolutely loved!) came in to get me settled, and my mom called saying her and the boys were downstairs and she needed my new room number. As they entered the room, my mom was trying to get me to focus ont he boys, as the nurse was trying to do my admitting exam, as she called it. Never had one of those before, but oh well.

Suddenly she went from bright and cheerful, to eyes wide and very serious. She quit suddenly in the middle of everything, left the room saying she would be right back. This had me worried immediately.

She came back in no more than 2 full minutes, with a doctor, another nurse, and a shot, asking me to roll over they had to put it into my thigh. No explanations other than that. My mom was still trying to get my attention, my boys wee there wanting to see me, and all these hospital personnel in my room... I finally just freaked, yelled for everyone to stop, looked over at my mom, and asked her to take the boys for a walk for about 5 minutes, and then come back. The look on my face, she didn't argue. This is when it finally hit me. I could think of no other reason for a shot, except for a steroid for the baby's lungs, and that was only if they were going to deliver early.

As my mom and kids walked out, I just sat with my head in my hands. Told the nurse and doctor they would have to wait just a second. I had a ton of questions, and had no real answers yet. They all started talking at once, saying they didn't have a lot of time and would explain everything later, needed more tests, etc... so I interrupted again. Asked why they were giving the shot, what exactly it was, the nurse told me steroids. I asked her if they were going to take the baby. She told me that my pupil on my right side was completely dilated, and unresponsive, and my reflexes were getting weaker. They weren't sure about inducing yet but needed to be ready just in case. The doctor chimed in that they weren't going to wait until morning for the MRI, and were calling someone in to do it that night.

So I rolled over, took the shot, and they all left saying they would be back in a few minutes to check on me. The nurse was the last one out and said if I could get my records from my midwife that night it would be a great help.

I called Faith again, and she said she would be on her way as soon as she got back home. She apologized saying she didn't think it was that serious, and would see me soon. Apparently, she had gone with some friends to a get together after church and didn't have her own car.

After that I called Ray again. He would be getting off work in about 15 minutes (6:45 at this point). No answer on his cell, so I decided I would keep calling his job until someone answered it and could get a message to him. Thank God they answered on the first ring this time. Ray's boss, said he just happened to be walking through the office. Ray jumped on the phone, said he had forgot his cell at home in the jeans he had worn the night before, it was probably dead. He went ahead and left right then after a short explanation of what was going on. I couldn't believe how relieved I felt. I didn't realize how much I had been holding back waiting on him to be with me.

My mom came back in at this point, and I didn't tell her about exactly what they had said. She is a constant worrier, and I kinew her stress would make it worse on me. I also didn't want my boys to know it was that bad yet. They left after just a ittle bit.

Ray got there soon after all this. Another doctor came in and explained the MRI had me sign a few papers, and I asked what the tests were for exactly. They just said they were checking for various things, and would have more info to tell me after they got the results.

My mom had called me back about the way I was when she had to leave earlier, said she knew something was wrong, so I went ahead and told her. So she was now back, with my Aunt Liz and Aunt Kathy. Thy were all still there when they came to wheel me off for my MRI.

I got down to the room, and the tech started asking me if I was chlosterphobic. I told her I didn't think so, but had never really been anywhere small to say for sure. Once they got me on the table, and started to put me in the long tube, I realized I was wrong. I am extremely claustrophobic. I started waving my hands like she had said to, to signal I needed to be pulled out. I was hyperventilating and felt like I was going to throw up. I was already nauseous from not eating for so long, but this sent it way over the top. We talked for a bit, and she had asked me if I wanted to go back down and they could try a CT scan instead, but I had already drilled everyone over the risks of each, and knew the MRI would be the safer option for the baby, so I told her I would try again.

Second try wasn't any better. Worse in fact. I hadn't completely recovered from the first try, and I knew what to expect this time, which made it worse. So she pulled me out again. I just started crying. I apologized probably 20 times. I kept telling them if I could get some crackers or something to settle my stomach, I could probably suffer through the rest of it, but they said they couldn't and didn't want me to suffer or raise my blood pressure ovedr it. She was super nice, said this happens to about half of all people, and helped me feel alot better about the whole thing immediately.

So back up to my room we went.

There was a new nurse now. Still a very nice one, but not as great and open to answering my questions as the first was. Ray was gone to get some dinner with my Aunt Kathy, and Faith was now there, with my mom. Aunt Liz had left. Everything was a blur around me. I know Ray came back at some point. My head was still trying to process the fact that I might be having Jaxon early, I was just dazed and completely unaware of what was going on with everyone around me. I know they were all talking, asking me questions, but I just couldn't focus on company at that point.

My mom finally went home. Faith stayed for some time, asking me about what tests they were running, and I didn't have any answers for her.

The doctor came in again, and we discussed doinjg a CT scan. They asked if I thought I could handle it, and if I would rather just have them put me under for the MRI. I didn't understand why it was such a big deal, what were they looking for. Again, no answers. So I agreed on the CT scan, they had me pretty scared by this tme.

The first doctor walked by again to check and see if I had left yet, and I stopped him, saying I had a few questions before we could do the MRI. My brain had been spinning and so confused since that afternoon, I realized I had almost no info on what exactly they were doing to me at all. What were they checking for???

He said they were looking for various things, and it was a whole team of doctors working on my case (I had seen 3 at this point), and he wasn't the one who had ordered it exactly...very vague. The lady was trying to wheel me away while I was still trying to question him, so I finally gave up, thinking I would be able to grill him once we were done.

As they started to wheel me away as lab tech came in. She asked if we could go ahead and take blood before I left, so we went ahead and did that first. She kept piling these vials into my lap )I was still in the wheelchair) and after counting over 20 of them I finally asked what they were all for. She wouldn't answer me directly. So of course I got suspicious. She did say that at least 23,24 (can't remember exact number, but something outrageous like mid 20's) were for one test. There were 36 all together, I do remember that. But she wouldn't tell me the tests, just how many vials were for each one. From here on out, they took about 10 vials from me every 4 hours until he was born.

I handled the CT scan just fine. It was a much bigger opening, the MRI only gave me about an inch clearance with my belly, enough I couldn't even get my hands to rest on my belly without touching it, it was that small. This was much betetr. They had me laying on one of those metal shield vests, then one laid over my belly, and one on each side of me overlapping the ones on my belly and the one I was laying on. This only took about 15 minutes or so.

When I got back, I sent Faith home, it was about midnight, and I knew I would probably need her again later, no need in just sitting around waiting with me, plus I was exhausted by this point. The nurses did come in again before she left and did my vitals, and those tests on me again. My pupil and reflexes apparently were still messed up, but I could see all but about a quarter size spot now, and also I had feeling back in my arm and shoulder. Just my face was numb again.

The doctor came back again to check on me. I finally told him I was tired of not knowing what was going on with me, and I wanted to know what tests they were running. He looked me straight in the eye and told me he didn't want to scare me, they were looking for many, many things, and he just wanted to focus on the results and not go into details on the what-if's. So basically no answers, again. He said they would have the CT results in a few hours, and depending on what they were, I could eat. He did let the nurse get me some ice.

When she came in she also took the baby off the monitor so I could sleep. He kept rolling around, and it was a pain to keep him on there. Everything had looked perfect with them, so she said it was no big deal. My BH's had almost completely stopped since I had gotten some IV fluids.

Things so did not go as planned :( part 1

Jaxon is here, a little early. 7 weeks early to be exact. It was a crazy and emotional roller coaster, and I am writing this extremely after the fact, so I hope I remember all the details. I will probably be coming back and editing quite frequently. I blocked so much of it at first, and trying to recapture it is harder than I had originally thought.

May 22nd, 2011 - when things went wrong, and on the way to the hospital.
We to church with my mom and kids Sunday morning. Ray was at work, he works 12 hour days, so I was on my own for the day. Usually not a problem. Had a great service.

As I was leaving, I noticed my vision was a bit messed up. Kind of similar to if you look at the sun or a bright light, how it takes your eyes some time to recover. I assumed it was because I had been in and out of church nurseries, and then outside to the bright lights, and it would just take me a few minutes to recover, no big deal. So off to the car with the kids.

Once settled in, I went to turn my cell back on, and my hand disappeared from my vision. After waving it back and forth like a crazy person trying to figure out what was going on exactly, I came to the conclusion that I had no peripheral vision on my right side. Midline and towards the left I was fine, but to the right it was gone, just gone. I freaked out and called my mom, who was still in the parking lot with my step-dad. Told her I was going to try and drive home, but was staying on the side roads, avoiding the highway and to please follow me to make sure I got there alright. I was scared shitless, but I guess remained calm enough that she didn't really take me seriously. She did have my dad follow me though.

By the time I was about half way home, my face started to go numb on the right side too. My first thought was maybe bells palsy, so I called my midwife. She said it sounded plausible, and she would look it up and call me back. Derek looked at me about then, and said my eye wasn't opening and my face looked funny. I looked in the rear view mirror and my right eye was droopy and I wasn't moving that side of my mouth either.

After trying to convince myself that it was no big deal for the last 10 minutes, suddenly I felt I HAD to get to the hospital... so I called my mom (who was still following me home, almost there by now) and asked her if my step-dad could please watch the kids and could she take me to the hospital. She actually told me no. That she would if she absolutely had to, but would have to take him home (he works from home and was running late tuning his phones back on)and then might come and pick up the kids and drop me off at the hospital, and could it not wait until the next day when Ray got off work, and why couldn't I have my midwife come to the house so she didn't have to watch the kids, and on and on and on. I finally told her forget it and decided I would just find another way. She later apologized and said she didn't think it was serious because I was so calm, and not fr3eaking out at all, just really nonchalant. In truth I was terrified and just trying to not scare my kids.

I tried calling Faith back twice on my way home, no answer.

By the time I got the van emptied of all the rugrats and settled inside, my whole right side of my head was numb down to my shoulder. I picked up my cell phone to start calling people to come watch the kids and made it about half way down my phone book list, and realized I didn't remember half of the people there. I was looking at names of friends I have had for years, and couldn't remember who they were. I knew I needed to call a friend of mine, but couldn't remember her name to call her (we sometimes watch each others kids, I knew she would help if no one else would.) I could remember her face, and times we had seen each other, but not her name. It was horrible. I finally put a note on facebook

"I need someone to watch my kids! Please someone help, I cant see out of my right eye and my face is numb, I am wanting to go get checked out, I need help"

Thank God Ray's brother, Ryan, and his wife, Alisha, saw it and called me. They said they would watch my kids and were on their way over. They wanted me to call an ambulance. I really didn't want to do that, because I knew it would scare the other kids if I left in an ambulance, but in the end it's what happened.

My mom also called and said she would come take me, she was actually getting worried now, and my dad came by as well. He is disabled, so not able to stay with my kids, but it was good he was there for me as much as he could.

When Ryan, my bil, got there with Alisha, he asked if I had called Ray yet. I had texted his cell a few imes, just saying I needed to hear from him on his break. When I told him I hadn't reached him he wanted to know his work number and was going to call him himself. I didn't have it saved in my cell, and suddenly realized I couldn't remember it, or the name of the business to even look it up. I couldn't remember the name of the company my husband worked at. I just broke down crying. At this point, Ryan called the ambulance. I couldn't even remember my address. He had to walk down the street to see what street I lived on to tell the dispatcher. It was about 1pm at this point.

We had the kids pretty calm still, only Derek, my oldest really knew anything was seriously wrong. So when I heard sirens, I went out to the front porch to keep them out of the house, I blew them all a kiss as I walked out the door, thinking I would be back later that night. I sat on the front steps as all the paramedics surrounded me, checking blood pressure (which was perfectly normal at this point) and various other things. I do remember they asked me a few questions to test my memory, and I couldn't remember the presidents name. I even had to pause to remember the year, but I got that one right. My mom pulled up as they were loading me in the ambulance. Ray still had no idea anything was even wrong. I had tried calling his cell a few times, no answer, and texted him again just saying I was headed to the hospital because I was feeling funky and to call me so I could explain more then. I thought for sure he would have called me by this point, so was starting to get worried about him too.

There was some confusion on where they were supposed to take me, to the ER or straight to triage at L&D. Finally settled on triage, just in case, which I thought was kind of silly. I didn't really think this would affect the pregnancy at this point, and was just getting discouraged.

My mom had followed us in her car, and came in as they wheeled me in to triage. They hooked me up the monitors and such and started asking me questions. It was so strange because I could picture what I wanted to say, but kept forgetting simple words, and events, peoples names, etc. Nobody seemed concerned, just very laid back, so I was starting to calm down as well. I was more mad and frustrated with myself at this point. It was around 2-2:30 now.

After the OB came in, she did a bunch of reflex tests. And then started to ask me to make weird faces, like smile real big, close both eyes as tight as you can, open them both bugged eyed. I felt kind of silly, but could see the concern on her face. This was when the numbness was at it's worse too. I couldn't feel the whole right side of my face, down my arm and shoulder to right above my wrist. It felt like I had been shot full of Novocain. (another word I kept forgetting so when I tried to describe it no one really understood, unfortunately.

The doctor said he was going to consult with another doctor, monitor the baby for a while, and if I needed anything let them know, they would be back in a little while. Which of course meant a few hours.

I think I'll finish the rest in another post to come soon. The story is so long and frustrating I am going to have to break it up for my own sanity.