I'm Back and Birth Story (3 months later)

[dearselah]

This is what I wrote to Selah tonight. Figured I would share it in order to share my birth story.

Dear My Precious Selah,

Today, Thursday, September 27, 2012 is your due date. The date you were scheduled to enter this world. As you know, September 27th is not your birthday, however. 90 days. You came 90 whole days early. I have been wanting to draft this email to you for 90 days. I couldn't bring myself to do it until now. I didn't know where to begin. How do I tell you how much I love you already? How do I tell you how amazing you are? How do I tell you how much I love being a mother? How do I tell you how much I love having you as a daughter? I will tell you though, that the hardest part of figuring out what to say to you first in these emails since your arrival has been me trying to figure out how to tell you how incredibly scared I was to bring you into this world 90 days ago, how to tell you your birth story.

I have never been more terrified in my life. I doubt I will be as terrified ever again. Yet, I have never been so happy. I've never felt so alive.

It was a Monday morning, Monday, June 25th to be exact. I was just getting up and about to get ready for work. I knew before I even got in the shower that something was wrong. I thought to myself, 'Remain calm. Wait to call the doctor until 8:00am when the office opens.' I called at least three times before 8:00am hoping that someone would be in the office early, answering the phone. I finally got through at 8:00am. Told them what was going on and that I think I needed to come in. They asked me how long it would take me to get there, I told them 10-15 minutes - I had to take Mabry outside before I left. I got to the doctor's office and saw Dr. Riemer. He did an ultrasound on me. You looked fine. My cervix, however, was only 9mm. At first, 9mm meant nothing to me. But then, I realized by the look on Dr. Riemer's face that 9mm was not the measurement I wanted to hear. He calmly told me that I needed to go right to the hospital. Right to the hospital. That I'd be there for at least 24 hours. I stood in the hallway, awaiting instructions from the staff on exactly what to do when I got to the hospital, overhearing Dr. Riemer call in my status to some unnamed person at St. Joseph's Women's Hospital. As I listened to his conversation, I began to panic. I was told to wait for a few minutes in the waiting area while they got some lab sample together for me to take with me to the hospital. I sat in the waiting area, slouched over, head down, trying not to cry in front of everyone. I called your father and told him that I was about to be en route to the hospital. He said he would meet me there.

I got in the car and immediately called your Nana to tell her what was going on. In part, because I needed to hear it out loud, again, for myself. I then realized, I was balling. I could hear your Nana crying on the phone as well. She was talking to your Grandpa, saying they wanted to drive me. I was already almost downtown. As I got off the interstate, I realized I didn't have any mascara on. I needed my mascara to make me feel human again for a moment. I put it on while I was driving down Himes Avenue.

I arrived at the hospital. Your father was already there. Waiting for me. Thank God. I checked in and was told to wait. Again, I sat slouched down, head down. My head against your father's leg as he stood next to me. Neither of us really able to process what was happening.

My name was called and we went back into a small room that was obviously a temporary holding room for them to run tests and what not. I undressed, changed into the gown they provided, and was hooked up to several monitors. I was having contractions. At 26 weeks 4 days, I was having contractions. The nurse told me what the plan was. First they would try a shot to stop the contractions. It would give me the shivers and make me have to pee a lot. 'Bring it on' I thought. If the shot didn't work, I would be taken to Labor and Delivery and be put on magnesium. I almost wanted to skip the shot at that point and go right to the strong stuff. Alas, I was given the shot. Your Nana, Grandpa, and Aunt Jessica arrived by then, all so lovingly concerned. After some time, the consensus was that it wasn't working to a satisfactory level and I would be headed to Labor and Delivery for some magnesium.

My nurse in Labor and Delivery was really nice. I was thankful for that, some ordinary niceness in the midst of me feeling like my world was falling apart. She explained to me what I should expect with the magnesium. My hand, the site of the IV drip for the magnesium, would be really hot. The nice nurse got a cold, damp rag to put on my hand over the IV. She was right. It was like a burn getting shot up your arm. 'Bring it on' I continued to think. This wasn't supposed to happen this way. This was supposed to be a boring Monday at work. This was supposed to be the easy pregnancy that I told everyone I was having, most notably at an all day conference I was at just two days before. But your father was there for me. I didn't go it alone. I had him. I had our family. Thank God. The contractions weren't stopping and my magnesium dose was increased. A nurse anesthesitist came in and asked if I would be wanting pain medication when I was in labor. I told her without a doubt. I'm not stupid. But I sternly warned the nurse anesthesitist that she would have to put me down for a dose in September because I wasn't going to be having any babies until September. In hindsight, I don't think she believed me. Even then. I would be spending the night in the hospital for the first time since I could remember. Actually I don't think I ever spent the night in the hospital before. The nurse realized your dad wasn't leaving and got your daddy a roll-away bed. Put it next to mine.

The night went by quickly. In part because I was being checked on so frequently and in part because I was on magnesium so things are a bit blurry for me to recall the specifics at this point. Everyone talks about how my eyes only opened about halfway. At one point, I asked your father if they could just put me in a medically induced coma. I think your Nana was in the room at the time. They thought I was joking. I wasn't. You needed 13 1/2 more weeks to finish cooking. I needed 13 1/2 more weeks. I needed selfishly to be pregnant for 13 1/2 more weeks. But you needed the time, this just wasn't happening to me. Stuff like this happens to everyone else. Not to me. Then again, cancer was supposed to happen to everyone else and not our family. Well that wasn't true with your Nana's diagnosis a month earlier. Apparently we were becoming the everyone else.

Morning came and I was told I would be allowed to eat some jello. It would be the first thing I had had to eat since Sunday night - double decker pizza at Babe's Pizza. The jello was so good. Beyond the lemon jello, more good news came. I would be moving upstairs to the third floor, which I later came to know as the high risk floor. The contractions had stopped. The magnesium had done its job. About damn time. I was moving on up. To the high risk floor. Yet, to me it was the floor of stability. Much better than Labor and Delivery. I had only been in the hospital at this point for maybe 30 hours and I already needed a cart to move all of my stuff. Only your momma.

I got up to high risk. More nice nurses. Thank God. My doctor came by. Told me I would be living there until you decided to make your arrival. I questioned whether I could be on bed rest at home instead. I was rejected. Okay, fine. I will make this ugly peach and seafoam green long, narrow room my home for three months then. The sound from the TV came through the remote connected to my bed. Well that would be annoying to listen to the TV through a remote for 3 months. The doctor said my goal was to make it to 34 weeks. Just over seven weeks. Wow, what a long time that would be. But I knew I could do it. Anything to keep you happy and healthy inside. Inside. I'd do anything. Anything to feel your kicks within my tummy. Anything to look down a see a bump. Better yet to see you move. Gosh, that was the best...being able to see you move so I could share the amazingess with everyone else. So I settled in. Seven weeks. I could do that. I told the nurses that your name meant to listen and reflect on what is said and that I wanted you to listen, to stay inside.

Visitors started to come and check in on you and me. Friends, family - those who love our little family. People brought food, things to do, friendship, and love.

Two days later, I started to feel contractions again. Your father had went out to get me some necessities that I would've brought in the hospital bag I was planning on packing at some point in the next 13 weeks. Most critically, non-sandpaper toilet paper. That is a funny story. Ask him about it sometime. Your Nana and your Aunt Jessica were there. I was putting down various times into the Notes section on my iPhone. Still have them. 4:52pm. 5:14pm. 6:00pm. 6:14pm. 6:21pm. 6:27pm. 6:43pm. 6:52pm. I had called for the nurse a bit earlier, telling her about these contractions. She had seen all of them. She called the doctor, Dr. Saavedra. He had seen me earlier in the day. He wasn't alarmed then. He checked to see if I was dilated. He was now alarmed. I was 3cm. He looked at me and said in his slight Spanish accent, "We are going to get you back down to Labor and Delivery and get you back on magnesium." I cried. I cried and looked at your father who was thankfully back from picking up the soft toilet paper. Things happened fast. You needed to cook longer, damn it. Somehow the nurses, in an attempt to calm me down, got me talking about Mabry. The one nurse, April, she was planning on getting a Boxer too. I told her they are the best dogs. I talked about Boxers on my way back down to Labor and Delivery at 27 weeks 0 days pregnant. I talked about Boxers so I didn't have to talk about that fact that I was in active labor. At 27 weeks 0 days. She was going to name her dog Gumbo. Like the stuff they serve in New Orleans. I don't think I've ever had Gumbo actually.

By the time we notified your Nana and your Aunt Jessica that I was headed back to Labor and Delivery, they had just gotten home - they left once your dad got back and before we realized the contractions were so consistent. Aunt Jessica had just changed into her sweats for the night. But back they came. Your Grandfather was in the hospital, in his uniform mind you (no ID badge...man that uniform gets you past all of the red tape...that and he is the "LT") by the time I got settled in. Back to the room where the sound came through the actual TV, not the remote. Back on the half-eyed medicine aka magnesium I went. I wanted to tell them to take out my blood and to replace it with magnesium. Or something stronger. The had to have something stronger. I mean for God's sake it is 2012. I was not about to have a baby a 27 weeks. Figure it out doctors! I am staying pregnant like it or not.

Maybe an hour later, Dr. Saavedra came back by to check on me and see if the magnesium was working. It wasn't. "We're going to have this baby tonight," he said. I cried. Again. He proceeded to break my water. He asked if I wanted anything for the pain. No, I was good. 5cm. 6cm. Dr. Saavedra had on a GOP pin on his lapel. I told him that I assumed he was not happy with the Supreme Court decision either that day. He joked, well that's what sent me into labor. I responded, "Yeah, that damn Obama." He asked again. No, I didn't want anything for the pain. As soon as I got something for the pain that was being caused by the labor, I would have to admit to myself that I was in labor. Same goes for the camera. Both of us had been thinking it, but neither of us wanted to tell the other that we should get someone to bring our camera from home. That would make it real. As if being in Labor and Delivery for the second time in four days wasn't enough. I still adamantly thought that somehow I could move back upstairs to my high risk home. 7cm. 8cm. I'll take the epidural now, please. Good thing. Your heart rate was increasing with my contractions. My fever that I had had since Monday was still there too. Dr. Saavedra asked if I wanted to do a c-section. I told him that he was the doctor, do what is best for my baby girl. "Let's go then," he said.

They put the fluffy green cap on me. Told your daddy to get suited up and to wait for someone to come and get him. They wheeled me off. I was shivering, shaking so bad. They said it was because of the magnesium. But it was because I was so scared for you. I had failed you. My body failed you now 12 weeks 6 days too early. What did I do? Why was this happening? You just had to be okay. I prayed. The nurses got me onto the operating table, moving my body parts in the direction they wanted. I was shivering uncontrollably. After what seemed like an eternity, your daddy walked in and sat next to me. He talked me through it all. He calmed me. He loved me. I could feel some pressure, but not any pain. All of a sudden I heard someone call out "2:06am!" The sudden pressure was you coming out into this world. And then I heard the best sound I've ever heard. You made a faint cry. Music to my ears. It was as if the an angel had squeezed it out of you. They had warned me that I might not hear a cry, to not get nervous. Ha. Right. But I heard a cry. I was thanking God for the four days I had in the hospital - that it was enough time for them to have been able to give me the steroid shots to make your lungs stronger. I heard a cry. From my 27 weeker. I had yet to see you though. There was a huge neonatal team in the room. They had you surrounded, like angels. You were in the corner above my right shoulder. I tried to crane my head back to see you. All I could see was the backside of the nurses. Your daddy assured me that he could see you and that you had a pink color. I kept craning my head back. I wanted to see my baby girl. Finally, I got the slightest glimpse of you. I saw your reddish pink oxygen-rich skin. That wasn't enough, I wanted to really be able to see you. Finally after what felt like an eternity, they held you up for me to see. You winked. Selah, you winked at me. At a few minutes old, you told me, "It's okay mommy, I'm fine." At a few minutes old, you were already comforting me, telling me you were good to go. You are amazing my sweet Selah. Simply amazing. They whisked you off to the NICU. Your daddy went off with you. I went off to recovery. June 29, 2012 at 2:06am. And they said you were going to be a September baby. Ha. You were just ready to take on the world. Ready to make our world. So ambitious.

Well now, it is now past midnight (I started writing this a few hours ago on the 27th) and you are crying. You are hungry, you thriving little girl. You now weigh 7 pounds 14.5 ounces. You weighed 2 pounds 8 ounces on June 29th. You've come such a long way. And I love you so so so very much. You have now been home from the NICU for five weeks. And you are hungry, you thriving little girl. I need to go heat up your bottle so your dad can sleep. He has to work in the morning. I love you. I love you so very much.

Love Always and Forever,
Mommy

[aegis2005]

I teared up reading this - damn hormones!
I'm so glad to hear/see that she's doing well. You have a little fighter on your hands

[mskateb]

I'll confess: I read the first sentence and started to tear up, and I seem to have zero control over my emotions these days, and I don't want to sit at work crying. So I skipped to the last paragraph, where I found the happy ending.

Congratulations for your baby girl, though your family's road was more difficult. Thanks for sharing your story (I will read the rest), and enjoy your amazing little girl.

[kimandross]

Wow, what a great story Janelle. Just beautiful. I'm sure Selah will very much appreciate that when she is older.

[mrschelseap09]

Beautiful story Janelle. I'll admit, I teared up while reading it.

[melis74]

Love your letter to Selah, totally had me crying at work. I'm so glad she is doing so well!

[moonstone523]

Beautiful!

[tashaandsage]

I teared up as well. What a beautiful letter for your daughter- thank you so much for sharing it with us. I have loved being able to watch Selah's amazing journey through pictures on fb. It is awesome what a healthy little girl she has become so quickly.

[mrsjason]

I have tears rolling down my face. I am not pregnant, so I can't blame it on hormones.

So well written. I can only imagine how scary it was for you and your H to go through. You're a strong mama.

[surfbetty530]

I am so glad Selah is ok. Thank you for sharing your story....

[dearselah]

It is really my pleasure to share it. I was so unprepared for this experience and if somehow it helps someone, that would mean a lot. Plus, I just want Selah to know that she did not come into this world in the normal way...she had to make quite the appearance. I should have prefaced it with a warning as to how long it is ha.

[jen812]

Thank you for sharing. Glad everyone's doing well.

[sara76]

Wow. I've read your story a couple times now. It's very moving. Congratulations on your little girl! She sounds amazing <3 I'm so happy she is doing so well!

[etteyam]

What a beautiful story! Thanks for sharing. I'm glad you guys are doing well.

[may07wedding]

Thank you for sharing this. I love the idea that you're writing to her. It definitely had me crying, especially when you mentioned that she winked at you and told you she was okay.
I am so happy to hear that she is a strong little girl and home where she belongs, with her strong mommy and daddy.

[lovethesun]

I read this on Friday morning while I was home by myself for a "me" day. I was bawling in the bathroom after reading this and I am not preggo so I cant really blame the hormones.

She is a lucky girl to have such a strong mom!

[mrsshawanab]

Yeah I pretty much cried the entire story starting for the first sentence.. very beautifully written. I couldn't be more opposite than you with politics (lol) but the way you handled your whole birthing situation, I would only hope I could be the way you were. You may have cried a whole bunch but you were very, very brave.

[dearselah]

Thanks everyone. I appreciate all of the support.

[mrsjenrn]

Such a beautiful story. I can't even imagine what you've been through! Selah is a lucky little girl to have such strong parents. Thank you for sharing! It sounds like she is doing great!

[mrsmew]

Beautiful story, Janelle. I'm so happy it had such a happy ending.

I've been thinking about your story a lot because my SIL just gave birth to her son at 29 weeks. It has been a tough road for her and my BIL too but I keep thinking of you and little Selah and it gives me confidence that everybody will be okay.

Selah is so dear and I love the pictures you've posted on FB of her. What a blessing she is! Congratulations!

[dearselah]

Meghan, I'm hopeful that all is okay with your SIL and her new baby. Is she local? If she needs someone to talk with I'd be happy to talk to her about getting through the NICU journey. In the meantime, I just came across this article - she may find it helpful:
health.howstuffworks.com/pregnancy-and-parenting/baby-health/special-needs/10-coping-tips-for-parents-with-nicu-baby.htm