It’s been an awfully long time since my last blog post. I’m so grateful to all who have stuck by me during my hiatus. We took 2013 out like a storm and have an abundance of posts to show for it- that is if I could just find the time to recap it all on paper.
But for now I will tell the crazy story of how my babies came into this world.
Brace yourself for a long story.
On December 19, 2013 we woke at the crack of dawn, ready to make this little family of four into a big family of six. We had the most wonderful nurses and care (thanks to my LOVELY friend Kerry M). I’ve had my share of surgeries and never seemed to get nervous. But this time? This time I was full of anxiety. I just felt deep down inside that something was not going to go right.
On the table during the C-section I had two major panic attacks. I was crying and the brilliant anesthesiologist was a little shaken because I couldn’t calm down and I NEEDED TO! Luckily Steve walked in and immediately calmed me.
I heard the first wale of cries and calmed for a second but then the second stinker was taking longer to pull out and I panicked again. At one point the anesthesiologist was tapping my face saying, “Mrs. B, are you with us, Mrs. B!”
I think I passed out for a second and then I heard the second beautiful sounds of my baby crying. They were both here and alive, very alive. I started crying again but this was of relief and joy.
I recovered quickly and enjoyed the girls in a way I didn’t or couldn’t enjoy the big girls. With H and L I was overwhelmed, happy, but unsure of what to expect. With F and J*I knew how much happiness being a Mom brought me so I sucked up every second of the birth this time around.
A few hours after being settled in my room Steve left to eat and my Dad went to get a cup of coffee while my Mom kept me company. I was looking at the girls in their little hospital bassinets when I noticed J looked off.
Me: Mom does J look blue?
Mom: Oh my god
I started frantically pressing the nurse call button over and over yelling for them as my Mom scooped her up and ran from the room. All I could see where nurses rushing AT my Mom and taking my baby. She looked dead, wasn’t breathing, foam in her mouth and her little body lifeless.
I was balling and so was my Mom. All I remember is my Mom’s forehead pressed to mine telling me she was going to be fine over and over. If she wasn’t there my baby would have died because no one responded to my calls or the call button.
As the nurses were rushing J to the NICU my Dad was walking back to my room with his coffee thinking, “oh that poor mother must be devastated.”
When he walked into my room and saw my Mom and me he realized that Mother was his daughter.
Thankfully she was fine but did choke on all the left over “gunk” from the delivery.
That was Thursday and how the girls entered the world.
But that’s not the end of the story. The story carries on for nine glorious days. Thursday and Friday I felt pretty good. However by Saturday I started feeling very bloated. I couldn’t go to the bathroom and my stomach started to expand. I was drinking water and Gatorade by the gallons, literally.
I think they called it distention. I no longer looked like I had the belly of a woman who just gave birth. I looked like a woman who was 6 months pregnant, then 7, then 8 and by the late afternoon I looked like I was still 9 months pregnant.
My OB called in a surgeon because he knew something was wrong. I will not rehash the insane and horribly painful tests I endured for the following afternoon but I will say a few things:
- The exams they gave rid me of any humility I had in this little body
- These same exams and x-rays could make an enemy talk so try using them government
- The radiologist at this hospital is a big D so avoid him at all costs
Anyway what they found was a serious blockage and my intestine was twisted. I was immediately rushed into emergency surgery.
During the C-section the doctor noticed that part of my intestine had attached itself to the scar tissue on my abdomen wall. Once the babies were removed and all that space opened up the attached sections literally flung itself around and around causing the severe twisting.
All ended well because they were able to untwist without losing any of my intestines. It seems that the twisting was probably happening for a while based on how much my insides were shifted around. My gallbladder was shoved as far up in my chest as possible-which explains much of the discomfort my pregnancy presented.
But no story should stop at this point; that would be to easy and boring. No, the next ugly part was that my colon was lazy. The sucker wouldn’t wake up and since it wouldn’t wake up I couldn’t poop or fart!
Now I’m a very shy person in the personal field if you know what I mean. My family still teases me by saying bra and underwear to see me squirm.
But after this situation and nine days of a dozen doctors and nurses asking me daily if I’ve pooped or farted, shoving enemas and suppositories in places no one should touch….well let’s just say I have no shame.
I met wonderful nurses and people, had interesting conversations and mystified the doctors. The surgeon said that there are only 73, seventy-three, that is 73 cases reported like mine. Seventy-three; that’s crazy. My surgeon said he learned a lot from this experience. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
It was a scary experience for everyone. Once again Steve sat by not sure if he was going to be a single Dad for the third time in just as many years. My girls were scared but luckily had plenty of cousins visiting to keep them occupied.
I missed their birthday and Christmas but we celebrated when I got home. I went seven days without seeing them. That broke my heart the most. I spent days without seeing the new babies which broke my heart into even smaller pieces. But Steve was with me every day and that mended much of the damage.
There are many more stories to pull from this situation but for now that sums up how the girls came in with a bang!
Thank you Andreas for watching over us. We love you, we miss you but we just aren’t ready yet to be with you. XO
*J is the new L’s middle initial but for the sake of the blog I’ll use that so as not to mix her up with the original L.