Last Wednesday, I met with my OB, and she quipped about how she wishes that every patient of hers would have such an easy, uncomplicated pregnancy like mine. I even told her that most of the time I forget that I'm pregnant….that is, until I look at myself in the mirror or feel the baby's rumbles and kicks. Which is why we are all in shock and disbelief by the crazy turn of events that have happened over the last week.
We started the weekend celebrating our anniversary and going on a little babymoon to a fancy-schmancy bed & breakfast, courtesy of my parents. Justin and I quibbled over what activities I could partake in being seven-months pregnant and all, but we compromised and enjoyed a lovely weekend canoeing, leisurely hiking, taking a horse-drawn carriage ride, and (of course) eating like kings and queens! Little did we know that it would also be our very last getaway before our family of three would become a family of four.
Monday afternoon rolls around. Justin left for work, and Lissie was enjoying her nap. All of a sudden I felt my stomach do a crazy turn, and I was keeling over in pain. Not knowing for sure what a contraction was (remember, Lissie was an easy-breezy scheduled c-section, so any contractions I had felt with her were minor), I quickly did some research and decided that I had a bad contraction. Since it was only a single time, there was no need to call the doc. I just laid on my side, drank water, and took a nap myself.
The majority of Tuesday was a typical day for us. In the morning, Justin and I went to the gym while Lissie hung out at the Tot Spot for an hour with her own friends. Justin left for work shortly after lunch, and Lissie and I enjoyed a nice afternoon nap. After dinner, while I was getting ready to clean up after Lissie, I started to feel a similar pain that I had had on Monday. I decided to call my mom to see if she could come over and take care of Lissie for the remainder of the night so I could just rest and feel better. Unfortunately, almost immediately after hanging up with my mom, the pains started getting much worse, and I called Justin at work just to let him know. While I was on the phone with him, I started to feel very sweaty and dizzy and eventually dropped the phone while I keeled over in pain. He got very worried, especially since he could hear Lissie screaming from her high chair in the background, and he decided to go ahead and call an ambulance. I kept on going in and out of consciousness, and I wasn't able to get words out of my mouth to tell him what was happening.
Thankfully, the ambulance and my parents arrived at almost the same time to find an interesting scene: me keeled over in the dining room, sweaty, pale, and unable to talk; a mostly naked Lissie (we had just finished playing outside in her water table before dinner and I didn't bother changing her before a messy meal of spaghetti) crying in her high chair with tomato sauce strewn all over her face, hands, and tray; a barking dog going nuts over what was going on; and piles of dirty laundry all over the kitchen floor, as well as our clean delicates hanging on the stairways to dry. The mean EMTs kept shaking me trying to get me to talk and take deep breaths, but I was unable to really understand and follow their directions because I was feeling so strange. My blood pressure was drastically low at 55/36, while my blood sugar levels were ridiculously high, surpassing the 200 range. I could hear my nurse mother in the background telling them that they needed to hurry and give me oxygen and take me to the hospital where my doctor has rights to deliver instead of the closer hospital that doesn't even have a maternity ward. Because of all of the stairs and baby gates in our house, they couldn't take the stretcher up to get me so I was forced to go down all of our stairs in my dizzy, semi-conscious state. It was only a few days later that I realized that I left without shoes or even any form of identification.
I started to feel better when I got to the ambulance, but I was still feeling intense abdominal pain and was just very, very sleepy. We made it to OB triage, and Justin (who closed down his pharmacy two hours early so he could be with me) arrived shortly thereafter. Luckily, the doctor on-call at my doctor's practice was already at the hospital visiting another patient, and she immediately looked at the scans of the baby's heartrate and knew that something wasn't right. Her best guess, to be later confirmed with an ultrasound, was that there was bleeding in my uterus, most likely due to a weakening of the scars from my fibroid removal surgery last July. Baby Boy needed to be taken out immediately, at just 29 weeks in utero. Needless to say, it was the scariest thing that I had heard. Ever.
Since everything was happening so fast and the risk of a blood transfusion was so high, Justin was unable to be in the surgery room with me this time, and I was going to be under general anesthesia. Luckily, the surgery went well, and Xavier Suarez Yasay was born at 10:09 pm on June 26th, 2012. In the process, though, I did lose a lot of blood and needed four blood transfusions and a couple of plasma infusions, as well.
Afterwards, through talks with both the high-risk OB docs, my regular OB doc, and the doc on-call who performed my c-section, it was determined that the placenta had managed to attach itself on a weakened scar on the lining of my uterus where one of my fibroids was removed. Bleeding was inevitable, due to the stretching of the uterus. It was only a matter of when. The odds of this occurring are excruciatingly rare and virtually undetectable via ultrasound, and nothing that I could have done or did do affected what happened.
I am just eternally grateful that the bleeding started when it did, instead of much earlier in the pregnancy when taking the baby outside of the uterus would have been even more compromising. Even at 29 weeks, the surgery was extremely risky, but it would have been riskier for the two of us if we didn't do anything. I am also very thankful that he was over three pounds at birth, which made the odds of his survival even stronger.
There are so many things that happened over those crazy 24 hours that, looking back, I can't help but see that there's something greater out there really looking out for me and my baby boy. What if I didn't call my mom and tried to take care of Lissie by myself? What if I didn't call Justin and he would've just found me on the floor unconscious when he came home from work at 9:30pm? What if they took me to a different hospital without a maternity ward? The timing of events was absolutely crucial in my situation, and everything had turned out as perfectly as it could have gone. And for that alone, I have much to be grateful for.
Baby Xavier is doing just fine for being such a tiny guy. He was able to get off his ventilator just 48 hours after he was born. He's breathing on his own and is just absolutely perfect in every, albeit tiny, way. He's jaundiced so he is receiving light therapy, but other than that, he is absolutely fine! He is a fighter, for sure, and I have a feeling he's going to be stubborn and strong-willed, just like his mama. He will most likely remain in the NICU until he is 38 weeks, but hopefully we will be able to bring him home even earlier.
I'm doing very well, also. The recovery this time around is much slower, since I lost a lot of blood, but I'm already able to be up and about and taking short walks here and there. I'm unable to carry anything more than a gallon of milk for six weeks, which is going to make it very difficult to take care of Lissie, but we have such a tremendous support system in place, that I have a feeling we'll be able to handle it okay. I wasn't able to see Xavier until the day after he was born, and I still haven't been able to hold more than just a precious little finger, but each time I see him, I know I am witnessing a miracle.
Speaking of Lissie, she's enjoying being spoiled by her Lolo Ernie and Lola Poy. She's sure got them wrapped around her fingertips! She even met her little brother, and she is definitely very apprehensive about this tiny new creature that has invaded our lives. But, apparently, she is determined to live up to being a good big sister because she has since decided that she is too good to be inside a stroller, as she would rather be the one pushing it around!
Justin has been amazing, but that's not really a surprise. He's been so patient and helpful to me while I recover, and you can just see the pure joy on his face when he sees his baby boy. He was even able to carry him for a brief moment, while he helped the nurse change his bedding!
I've seen more than my share of fantastic doctors, nurses, and technicians over the course of the last few days. It is so humbling to have them check in on me and Xavier and hear how worried they were for us and how amazed they are at the speediness of both of our recoveries. Every time I see the look on their faces when they see me and how impressed they are that I am walking and he is breathing on his own, just a few short days after what we went through, it makes me say a prayer of thanksgiving for all of those angels out there who made this experience one that Xavier and I can live to tell. We are blessed. There is no doubt about that. Of course, thoughts and prayers are still very much encouraged! We can feel the effects of all of your prayers day in and day out. Thank you. From the bottom of our hearts.
