On one hand, an eventful day could be describing a day filled with fun, new, exciting things, but in medical terms...it's not normally a good thing. And that word feels like it has been written in BOLD red letters across my pregnancy experiences So much so, that I can hardly recall my more recent, non-eventful pregnancy with my daughter. But my first one. That "eventful" one. I recall that one with so much clarity. That eventful pregnancy that resulted in a premature birth, a NICU stay and countless moments of fear, depression, and yes, shame. Shame because I was certain I had done something to deserve all of this.
My husband and I were the typical, overjoyed couple when we found out we were expecting our first little baby! We told everyone the moment we saw them and everything went just as expected:
Morning sickness? CHECK!
Eagerly awaiting each monthly OB check- up? CHECK!
Bought "What to Expect When You're Expecting"? CHECK!
Overly cautious about everything we did for the next 9 months? Super CHECK!
The months came and went, we found out we were having a boy! We instantly knew his name: Robert Michael. He was named after his dad (Robert is his middle name) and my dad (Michael). We started working on the nursery and my sister having just had her last little one about 3 years ago was more than happy to share her baby items. Everything was going right on track. Then came that 1st Saturday morning.
I woke up early and had to pee (like i had to every hour those days). While still half asleep I noticed it. There was blood. Enough to freak me out a bit. It was only 5:30am, but my poor older sister got a panicked call from me. She said it was probably not a big deal, but to go to triage at my hospital just to be sure. So we hastily left the house and went straight to the hospital. We sat there for a few hours while I was "monitored". And for the record, making a pregnant lady in her 2nd trimester sit somewhere for a few hours with no food or drink...should be consider cruel and unusual punishment! Everything seemed fine, no more blood, so we were sent home with me to "take it easy" until I saw my OB on Monday. It was a nice easy weekend. My husband had to do the house chores (haha!), I got to register for our baby shower online, and chill out on the couch for the rest of the weekend. I went for my check up and, again, was given the green light that all was fine. Looks like a fluke.
About 3 weeks later, another early morning potty break and wouldn't you know it....bleeding again! This time, we were much more calm, we knew the routine. We packed a bag with snacks (not knowing this wasn't allowed) & things to keep us busy for a few hours. Same thing as last time, we were sent home after a few hours and told to "take it easy" until I saw my OB on Monday. Why did this have to keep happening on Saturdays? It was really putting a cramp in our weekends!
The following night we were at home with my in-laws watching a movie. I wasn't feeling well. My back had started hurting and I just felt crummy. So I went to bed early that night. Then I awoke in the middle of the night and feeling cold and wet. Nope, not my water....bleeding again, much more. In the most panicked voice ever I call for my husband to get up and get us to the hospital...NOW! Then the contractions started. God did they hurt! And scary as heck, because I had no idea they were contractions. I only found out at the hospital that's what they were. We rushed out to the car, I kept telling myself this wasn't happening, it couldn't be, I was only 26 weeks. As my husband rushed through intersections, trying his best to get us to the nearby hospital, all I could do was cry and yell at him to drive faster. After what felt like forever, we made the 10 minute trip to the hospital and I am wheeled into triage. This part is a bit of a blur. Doctors coming and going, nurses telling me to relax, my husband trying to stay by my side and hold my hand & make me laugh as the contractions come, but he also was trying to get answers. What was happening? He is the rock between the 2 of us, but I could see the fear in his face and that scared me as well.
Eventually they got the contractions under control, but inform me that I can no longer be treated at this hospital.
"Why?" I ask in my drug-induced state.
"Because we don't have the medical staff to treat you or your baby once he is born."
Wait-What? They go on to explain that due to my medical state, they will have to air evac me to a hospital downtown with a level 5 NICU & a neonatal staff on site. I may have been pretty out of things, but the words "air evac" snapped me right out of it...or so I thought. I worked in the special needs population. I had read many birth stories of children who had developmental disabilities. Many of them had similar birth stories to what I was now experiencing. And the most complicated ones involved the mom being air evaced to another, higher level hospital. I became frantic. I started crying, tried getting up from my bed, which only lead the nurses to hold me down as it was imperative that I stayed laying down as to not cause further medical complications via bleeding and contractions. I told them I would ride in an ambulance, but refused to sign a waiver to go in the helicopter. Looking back now, I see I was being irrational, but at the moment, all I could think was that if I avoided being air evaced, I would be able to fix everything. My baby wouldn't be born so early, he wouldn't be at such a high risk of having a disability due to premature birth, I could CONTROL it. Yeah....that was unrealistic. And I was the only one who couldn't see it. The staff at the hospital took pity on my insanity though, and was able to find a bed for me at another level 5 hospital that I could take ambulance transport to. But even with that, I tried to convince them that my husband could just drive me there. No. Not a chance.
So there I was, 6am (having got to the 1st hospital at 1am), being transported to a new hospital, getting a new OB (mine didn't work with high risk pregnancies) at 26 weeks, getting a neonatologist for my son (what the heck was that?), and being told they will be taking me to the NICU shortly.
"Why?" I ask again, sort of in and out of everything.
"Because you need to see what your son will look like when he's born here shortly."
I just rolled over and cried.
**Read the rest of the story in "Eventful Part 2" **
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