If you haven’t already, I advise you to read parts one and two of our story before proceeding. Otherwise, enjoy!
Tuesday Afternoon
As soon as the doctor informed us that she had to deliver the baby, she excused herself for a call. Kasee and I were still in shock and listened as she spoke to an unknown person on the other end.
“Yes, I’m talking with them now.”
“Ok, sure.”
“Awesome. I’ll let them know.”
She hung up the phone and explained that after reviewing the baby’s stats, he appeared to be doing fine, so there was no longer a need to rush. She explained that when babies are born early, they may have trouble breathing because their lungs aren’t fully developed.
The new plan was to inject me with two shots of steroids over 48 hours to quickly develop the baby’s lungs and reduce the risk of complications. While we waited for the steroids to take effect, they would also be prepping my cervix to have the baby vaginally. She told us to prepare for a four-day stay.
Before she left, she informed me that my bloodwork showed a low platelet count. This meant I wouldn’t be able to get an epidural if I had a vaginal delivery and would have to be put to sleep if I had a c-section. My pre-scheduled birthing classes had all been canceled (due to COVID), so I wasn’t mentally prepared for either of those options.
Tuesday Evening
Not only was I mentally unprepared, but we were ill-equipped for a 4-day hospital stay. Kasee only had the clothes on his back, and we hadn’t gotten around to packing our hospital bag. Under normal circumstances, he could just run home and gather our things, but because of COVID, visitors couldn’t return after they checked out for the day.
Luckily, after explaining our situation to the hospital staff, they granted us a one-time pass. Kasee ran home, took a shower, and returned with a carry-on suitcase and the baby’s bag.
The nurse administered the first steroid shot in my butt, and it stung pretty badly. She also set up my IV and explained that they would be injecting Magnesium to help keep my blood pressure under control. She said that most of the time, the mineral would increase your platelets, which would allow me to get an epidural. I went to sleep that night, thinking I would be giving birth the next evening.
Wednesday morning
I woke up feeling pretty drowsy due to the Mag but was still able to function pretty well.
The doctor came in and checked my cervix and told me that she couldn’t even fit her pinky in it. That’s not what you want to hear when you’re supposed to push a baby out in 24 hours.
She explained that they would be inserting Cervidil to jumpstart the labor induction process. The vaginal insert would help soften the cervix and prepare it for birth. After 12 hours, she expected the cervix would ripen enough for her to insert a balloon, that would slowly inflate and open me up further.
I ate breakfast and lunch. The nurses advised me to enjoy it because I wouldn’t eat or drink anything but ice chips after that.
WEDNESDAY EVENING
At this point, I was incredibly drowsy from the Mag and could hardly keep my eyes open. My legs were weak, and Kasee had to assist me during my short walks to the restroom.
The nurses entered the room and gave me the second shot of steroids and also inserted the Cervidil. I could feel pressure, but the pain was manageable. They told me to rest and prepare to have it removed in 12 hours.
I tried to sleep that night, but between anxiousness and having blood drawn every four hours, I couldn’t get comfortable.
THURSDAY MORNING
At 5 in the morning, the doctor removed the Cervidil and immediately checked my cervix. It hadn’t opened at all. She told me she would insert another one, and hopefully, I would open up after an additional 12 hours. After that, she still planned to continue with the ballon approach.
The nurse returned a few moments later to insert the second Cervidil, and I was unprepared for the pain that followed. My cervix was so tender from the first round that it was super sensitive to touch. I grabbed the handrails, arched my back, and cried out in pain. Kasee ran over to hold my hand and wiped my tears.
Before leaving, the doctor told me that my platelet count had increased, and I’d probably want to get an epidural to avoid the pain from the balloon insertion. I agreed.
Since I had to endure another round of Cervidil and postpone the delivery, I was allowed to eat breakfast and finally drink some water!
Thursday Evening
I was nearing the 12-hour mark and wanted to make sure I got my epidural before removing the Cervidil. The anesthesiologist asked Kasee to leave the room, and quickly got the needle in my back.
I had heard horror stories and imagined the worst, but it wasn’t as painful as I expected. It certainly wasn’t as painful as having that Cervidil snatched from my cervix!
Once the epidural kicked in, I couldn’t feel my legs. That numbness, mixed with drowsiness, made me feel rather strange. I had no control over my body.
The doctor came in and pulled out the second Cervidil, and confirmed I still hadn’t made any progress. She determined it was time to start Pitocin to produce stronger contractions.
After 48 hours of Magnesium, I was so exhausted I could hardly stay awake long enough to finish a complete sentence. I had bruised arms from the frequent blood draws, and I was physically exhausted. Not to mention thirsty!
Throughout the night, I could see the sharp contractions showing on the monitor, but couldn’t feel them with the epidural. I went to sleep thinking about giving birth, but doubted I had enough strength to push!
Friday Morning
The following morning, a new nurse came in. She was upset that the prior nurses hadn’t repositioned my body in over 8 hours. She annoyingly said, “Well, of course, you’re not opening up laying flat like this!” and placed a peanut-shaped medicine ball between my legs.
At this point, I was totally out of it and hardly understood what was happening. I snapped out of my trance when I heard the nurse say the baby’s heart rate was dropping and that we needed to get him out ASAP.
A few moments later, the doctor appeared and explained that I would be going into the operating room in less than an hour for an emergency c-section. I weakly replied, “Ok.”
Friday AFTERNOON
Once the room cleared, I began crying and told Kasee I was disappointed. After four long days of fighting, I wasn’t able to have the baby vaginally. He reminded me of how strong I was and promised he was proud either way.
Thirty minutes later, the nurses wheeled me to the operating room and ensured Kasee would meet me there. I was drained.
While on the operating table, I felt lots of tugging for what felt like an eternity, and then suddenly heard the room shout “Happy Birthday, Grayson!” followed by the sweetest cry.
Kasee, who was holding my hand, smiled at me as we shed happy tears. He kissed me, thanked me, and then went to see the baby. He came back over and whispered, “He’s perfect!” which made me cry harder.
Once they cleaned Grayson, they brought him over to me and let me kiss his little face.
He was perfect.
One of the nurses snapped a quick picture and then hurried him away to the NICU. Kasee stayed by my side as the removed that pesky cyst and finished cleaning me up. I asked him to go and check on the baby and take videos so that I could get a better view of his face.
An hour later, Kasee returned to report that Grayson was doing great. He was breathing on his own, didn’t need a feeding tube, and was seemingly happy!
Friday Evening
I wasn’t able to see Grayson anymore that day because I needed to recover from surgery. Also, because of COVID, only one parent could visit each day. And since Kasee had visited him that morning, I couldn’t see him until the following day.
After 30 long hours, I was finally able to eat; I ordered a cheeseburger and french fries.
As I bit into my burger, a steady stream of tears ran down my face. I was processing so many emotions at once.
I was grateful Grayson was doing well but upset I couldn’t hold him.
And then I would feel guilty for being ungrateful because at least he was alive and well.
There was another mother across from my room, and my heart would ache every time I heard her baby cry. I desperately wished Grayson was in my room.
I felt short-changed of a full-term pregnancy, of a traditional delivery, and being able to hold my baby. There was physical and emotional evidence of birth, but no baby to prove it. I felt empty.
I spent that night replaying the videos Kasee captured and prayed for the morning to hurry so that I could visit my sweet baby in the NICU.