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Post On Sunday, December 01, 2013 By Shedina
It was October 2, 2013, the day I woke up with an excruciating toothache... yes, the wisdom tooth had begun giving me hell. At 25 weeks pregnant, I wanted to know what was causing so much pain literally overnight. I couldn't function at work; the pain was just too much to bear, plus the air condition system assisted in bringing on the pain. I went home and could only manage to eat crushed foods like irish potatoes and pumpkin; but even that was a chore.
The following day, I went to the dentist to see if there was anything he could do. The first dentist looked in my mouth and told me I had an impacted wisdom tooth and that he would have to refer me to another dentist who could possibly help my situation. I hurried on to that dentist. While there, he checked my blood pressure and found it to be a bit high. He asked if I had been experiencing hypertension during my pregnancy to which I replied "No". At all my visits I had recorded normal BPs. He checked my pressure again within 10 minute intervals but still there was no change. he attempted to call my OB/GYN to dialogue with him about my situation. Calls to his office informed that he was not in office, while calls to his mobile went unanswered. The dentist wrote a note outlining what had happened along with the high BP readings and told me to take it to my doctor.
Friday, October 4th was the day the end of my child's life began. At about 1:30 p.m. I left work to visit my OB/GYN. When I arrived, I gave him the note from the dentist. He checked my BP and found it to be high. Also, the urine test revealed a reading of +2 protein. I was given a referral and admitted to the hospital that night as a high-risk patient. Four vials of blood were taken to be tested.
On Saturday I learned that my condition was real serious and that in order to save my life, they had to take the baby. I was given medication the doctors thought would help develop the baby's lungs to increase her chance of survival. At the end of Saturday, my condition had gotten worse. I had to remove the cervical cerclage which had been placed 3 months earlier to protect the baby, in order to facilitate her delivery. After removing the cerclage, the doctor on duty tried to induce labour. This proved unsuccessful.
On Sunday, my condition progressed even worse and friends and family began to worry even more now. My husband had a very sad look on his face, each day he came to spend 5 mins with me. High risk patients were not really allowed visitors due to the gravity of their condition. By Sunday afternoon I had learned that they would be prepping me for C-Section in order to take the baby and save my life. I prayed and prayed and begged God not to let me have a C-Section because I would need to have blood transfusion as my platelet levels were at an all time LOW. The doctor on duty once again tried to induce labour. I was also given oxytocin to assist in this process. During my stint at the hospital thus far, the baby's heartbeat was monitored each time the nurse came by the administer medication. The last time the nurse on duty came by on Sunday night, there was a very faint heartbeat.
At about 1:45 a.m. on Monday, October 7th, I started having some wicked contractions. I was thankful. the labour came, and came and I thanked God. At about 6:30 a.m. my baby girl was born, but she was not alive. I wouldn't get to hear her first cry, see her talk; her first step or hear her say her first word. She was gone; a stillborn. All the kicks and somersaults were now distant memories. I felt like a part of me had died. When the nurse came by and cleaned me up, she took her to me and I saw her tiny body. She weighed a mere 0.54 kg.
After all the happenings I found out that the condition responsible for my daughter's demise was preeclampsia. Just a month before I had written a Facebook message to a friend telling him that I feared this happening to me, as in recent times I had been hearing of other young ladies who had experienced the condition.
My baby is gone and there is not a day that goes by that I do not think about her and oftentimes CRY! But, I am grateful to be alive, as many have trod this unexpected journey, never to return and tell the tale.
I am writing this one week + one day after the birth of my son Hudson Henry. I had shown no signs... Read Moreowen