This is an update to my previous story. Shortly after I posted my previous story
|This is an update to my previous story. Shortly after I posted my previous story my condition worsened. My protein levels went up again and my blood pressure soared. I was sent straight to L&D from my doctor's office for complete monitoring and blood work. I was hooked up to an IV for fluids and medication to bring down my pressure. My blood pressure did come down after two hours and my organs were still functioning properly. My doctor sent my home and told me to do a 24 hour urine catch so he could see how much protein I was spilling. He said that if it was over 300, the baby had to be born. The day after my catch was finished, I returned to his office with the catch. He promised me he would call that afternoon and let me know what the results were, even if everything was okay. At 3:30 PM, the phone rang and my heart started racing. My doctor told me what I didn't want to hear. The baby had to be born right away because my protein count was 317. He told me to report to the hospital at 4:00 AM to be induced. I was there at 3:30 AM to get settled in. Once I was induced everything went beautifully. I progressed well and wasn't in much pain. My blood pressure stayed at a normal level and I felt relieved that it would soon be over. My husband held my hand until I fell asleep. When the pain became a problem and I couldn't focus on anything else, I asked for something just to take the edge off until I could get the Epidural. Four hours later, it was time for the Epidural and right on schedule, my contractions became more painful than before. I immediately felt relief and was able to relax again, but my pressure had spiked dangerously high. I had to stay awake for an hour after the Epidural because of my pressure being so high, but I felt really good. When the nurse told me I could take a nap if I wanted, I took advantage of it and quickly fell asleep. I was sure that nothing else would go wrong, but that's when I found out how wrong I was. About ten minutes after I fell asleep, the alarm on my monitor began to go off. I was barely breathing and had an oxygen intake of 45%. My blood pressure bottomed out at 96/62 and my pulse was at 54 bpm. I began to turn blue around my lips and eyes and I lost nearly all of my skin color. The nurse tried to wake me with "smelling salts" but I did not respond. The nurse called to the station and declared me a code blue. Two more nurses and an OB/GYN that happened to be at the nurse's station came into my room to help. My doctor arrived just a few minutes later along with two anesthesiologists and three other nurses. I still would not wake up. I was put on oxygen and my Epidural was stopped immediately. My baby was in mild distress, but they had to wake me before they could take her. I was given several injections to bring my pressure and heart rate up. My husband stood on the other side of the room and watched in disbelief as they worked to bring me back. He thought I was dying and there was nothing he could do but watch. After an hour, I started to respond to their efforts. My pressure came back up as well as my heart rate. My oxygen levels increased to 77%. My pressure was at 134/76 and my heart rate was at 72 bpm. I woke up about 15 minutes later to find my doctor and two nurses hovering over me. My husband was at the foot of my bed crying with relief. My doctor brushed my hair back from my face and asked me how I felt. I was extremely tired and weak, but felt pretty good. He smiled and said that I would be just fine and that my baby was okay. Then he left the room. My husband rushed to my side and hugged me and cried. He kept saying "Thank you, God. I thought I was going to lose you." One of the nurses pulled a stool up to the monitors beside my bed and stayed there looking at me and watching the monitors. A few minutes after the doctor left, two very good friends from church came in and hugged me. They had come in during the struggle to bring me back, but were told to wait outside the room. They had stood outside my door and prayed the entire time. My daughter finally made her way into the world two hours after the trauma was over. I never did have my epidural started back, but I really didn't hurt too bad since I still had some of it in my system. She was very easy to deliver, making her debut after only five pushes. She responded immediately and was placed on my tummy as soon as she was checked out. I felt like my heart would burst with joy and I cried with relief. It was over. It was finally over, or so I thought. My blood pressure began to climb after she was delivered. I was watched a little more closely and had a nurse in my room with me for the first four hours after delivery to make sure I didn't crash again. I felt pretty good and even went to sleep to rest up and recover. I had my tubes tied the day after delivery on the advice of my doctor. My husband, parents, family, and friends all agreed that it was in my best interest not to have any more babies. My husband said that as much as he would love another child with me, he didn't want to lose me either and said we could always adopt another one. I was released three days later. It has been 9 weeks and I feel pretty good. My daughter is thriving and has started smiling at me. My pressure is finally under control and I now take a diuretic to avoid swelling as well as my blood pressure medications. I have gone back to work at the hospital where I delivered as a security guard. I feel that I made some really good friends with the nurses during my ordeal, because they are all so happy to see me back in the swing of things. I can't make my rounds without telling them how grateful I am for their help and encouragement and for their friendship. I even got hugs from several of them on my first day back and we shared some tears as well. I also stay in contact with my doctor on a regular basis. He was thrilled to see me back at work and even hugged me my first day back. He told me I was a fighter and that I should always hold my head up and be proud of what I have overcome. He's right! Ladies, hang in there and don't give up. You can do it as long as you follow your doctor's orders. Fight with everything you have. Then let God take care of the rest. And for those who've overcome, stand tall and be proud. Take courage in that you made it and pray for those who didn't. May God bless you all!|
Ethan will be turning 3 at the end of this month (October). The month of October always brings up some scary memories and emotions for me... I never thought I would have a difficult pregnancy or labor. After all...