Daphne Mae, Part Two...
And it was here. The big day.
I have to preempt by explaining how much I wanted to go into labor on my own. From the first day I learned I was pregnant, I knew I would do all I could to not be induced. With Clinton, I did go into labor on my own, just 3 months too soon. With Cara and Viv, I had to be induced due to physical difficulties and life circumstances with Clinty boy.
This time, I was going to go on my own, at term. Well, hopefully.
I prayed for weeks, I begged. I just wanted that birth story. I wanted to know how it would happen if it wasn't planned. Each day that passed got more frustrating. No water break, no contractions.
The doctor wanted to induce. She knew Clinton needed extra attention and my toddler wasn't sleeping and I was NOT progressing at all. She compromised with me. We would wait until she got back from vacation and would induce the later part of Spring Break if it hadn't happened by then.
It didn't. And, as it turns out, the hospital was overloaded because of vacationing OBs and had no slots open that week. Since it was Spring Break, they were able to make an exception to the rule and do inductions on the weekend. Doctor Leyba called me.
Sunday, March 30th was the day.
My heart skipped.
This was the day I had lost my Mom 14 years earlier.
It was kind of magical, how everything happened, it made me feel like life had come full circle. The worst day of my life (14 years ago)-AND- the best day of my life when I brought my last child into the world and completed our family.
A friend later sent me this quote:
The third thing we can do is understand the principle of compensation. The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude.
-Joseph B. Wirthlin, "Come What May and Love It."
That morning was so fun. SO. FUN. Clint had me cracking up left and right. We were both pretty giddy to finally see our little babe.
Checking out the place. We got "the good room."
(Same one we had with Viv.)
Our nurse was the coolest. She LOVED the name we picked. We talked about the Daphne flower and I said I'd never seen one but wanted to, especially now.
She went and hunted the hospital gardens and happened to find a Daphne bush! She surprised me so I could smell it and think of little Daphne while in labor.
Best. Gift. Ever.
PS- smells amazing.
The Daphne flower.
Clint got chilly. He left his jacket at home, so naturally, he put mine on. He struggled to squish in and zip, I was cracking up and then the nurse walked in and caught him. There was no covering up, she now knew the depths of idiocy she was dealing with.
Trying to speed things along.
And so it went for 7-ish hours. Labor had kicked in good. Contractions every 2-3 minutes and getting meaner as time went on. Our doc stopped by to break my water and that's when things took a turn for the worse.
There was a lot of water. A LOT.
Then, the anesthesiologist came in to administer the epidural.
And there was more water. A small lake. Too much.
He gave me a couple test shots on the epidural and it worked well. Once the medicine started to wear off, I could tell the contractions were really kicking up. Then, we lost the heart beat monitor, the nurse checked and re-checked, it wasn't working.
After fussing with it for a few minutes and trying to move its position, she realized it wasn't the monitor that was the problem. It was Daphne. She immediately called our doctor back in and they placed an internal heart rate monitor. Each beat sounded like knocking.
The knocking slowed with the next contraction.
I could tell by the looks they kept giving each other that something was wrong. Our nerves kicked up. It felt like my heart had picked up the pace that hers left behind. It was beating out of my chest. Clint came over to hold my hand.
They brought in an ultrasound and saw what they feared.
It's called Prolapsed Cord.
I'll let Google do the explaining:
What is umbilical cord prolapse?
Umbilical cord prolapse is a complication that occurs prior to or during delivery of the baby. In a prolapse, the umbilical cord drops (prolapses) through the open cervix ahead of the baby. The cord can then become trapped against the baby’s body during delivery. Umbilical cord prolapse occurs in approximately one in every 300 births.
What are the consequences of umbilical cord prolapse?
An umbilical cord prolapse presents a great danger to the fetus. During the delivery, the fetus can put stress on the cord. This can result in a loss of oxygen to the fetus, and may
even result in a stillbirth.
even result in a stillbirth.
How is an umbilical cord prolapse managed?
Because of the risk of lack of oxygen to the fetus, an umbilical cord prolapse must be dealt with immediately. If the doctor finds a prolapsed cord, he or she can move the fetus away from the cord in order to reduce the risk of oxygen loss.
In some cases, the baby will have to be delivered immediately by cesarean section. If the problem with the prolapsed cord can be solved immediately, there may be no permanent injury. However, the longer the delay, the greater the chance of problems (such as brain damage or death) for the baby.
From:
http://my.clevelandclinic.org/healthy_living/pregnancy/hic_umbilical_cord_prolapse.aspx
Because there was so much fluid and she dropped so quickly, the cord prolapsed and was squeezed between her head and the cervix with each contraction.
Trying to avoid a c-section, my doctor tipped the bed so that my head was down, feet up. They pumped fluid back in to try to help her move back down and release the tension on the cord. We listened to the heartbeat through the next contraction.
Knock...knock.......knock.................knock................................nothing.
I prayed. The only word I could form in my head was "PLEASE."
I was begging.
The contraction eased... the knocking began again.
Knock..Knock..Knock..
Shaking from the epidural, tipped upside down, and reaching for my husband before he was pushed aside, I mouthed the word "pray" to him. I kept thinking of the lack of oxygen and possibility of Cerebral Palsy. After witnessing all that Clinton has had to endure, I prayed and pleaded for her safety.
The doctor and nurses called in the emergency surgical team. They worked to try to get her to shift positions, I couldn't handle waiting for another contraction that might stop her heart.
They sent Clint to change just in case and another contraction started. Everything was moving so fast, I was sick, shaking, stomach turning, wishing I had Clint near, and it happened again. Another contraction. Her heart stopped.
The silence of it will never leave my memory. I felt so panicked I wanted to turn inside out.
I just wanted her OUT. In my arms, safe. No more silence.
When her heart beat didn't return, they unlocked the bed and ran me down the hall to c-section. (I found out later that poor Clint got left behind in the empty room and had to rush to find us in time.)
Miraculously, I'd had the epidural beforehand, which saved time that she may not have had.
It took awhile longer to operate because I had a giant fibroid right in the center of where they needed to make the incision to work around. I couldn't feel anything but fear. Clint squeezed my hand and we waited...and waited...and...
CRRRRRYYYYYYYY!!!!
Oh, my heavens. Never has any sound been so purely sweet to my ears. The best feeling washed over me, such relief! They placed her head next to mine (my arms were strapped down so I couldn't hold her) but I just leaned in and talked to her. She quieted and rested against my cheek. I still couldn't see her, but just to feel her warm face was bliss. Few times in life have I ever been so happy.
She and Clint went off to do baby testing while I got all stitched up.
7 lbs. 14 oz. 20 1/2 in. long.
The nurse came in and breathed a sigh of relief with us. That's when I got my chance to ask specifics about what had happened. In her 13 years of nursing she had only seen that happen one other time.
She said when the cord prolapsed and her heart stopped, she feared for Daphne's life. "You have only a few minutes at that point. You're very lucky she wasn't stillborn, had you gone into labor at home, you wouldn't have had a live birth" she said.
I sobbed. That, thankfully had never even entered my mind. I'd never imagined not being able to take her home. Words can't express how blessed I felt holding her at that moment. My unanswered prayers to go into labor on my own were, in essence, the biggest blessing.
Introductions made:
Sisters
and a brother.
The first night...
I had a reaction to the morphine that left me itching severely all night long. My eyelids were the worst, so swollen and itchy.There was no sleeping that night. But I was so very grateful that it was I who was left with the physical traumas of the day and that she was perfectly healthy. The opposite of Clinton's birth, it was much better to be the one who was in pain rather than watching my child endure it.
Two days later, we got to go home.
Little Viv with baby sis.
Dressed and ready to go see her new home. Words do no justice to describe how thankful I am to have her here and safe.
I can't wait to witness her life and what she becomes.
Love you infinitely, my little Daphne Mae.
