Julian's Birth Story

Post On Monday, March 25, 2019 By Anna Carreon

Julian's Birth Story

My pregnancy, labor, delivery, and postpartum recovery with my second precious boy, Julian, were nothing short of ordinary. The entire experience was challenging and traumatic, yet joyful and humbling at the same time. After dealing with months of morning sickness, sciatica, pelvic girdle pain, taking hormone medication to prevent premature labor, and everything else in between, I had almost had it with being pregnant...then at 35 weeks, I was diagnosed with gestational hypertension. I thought, seriously? I thought I was broken. I felt broken. From then on, it seemed like I was in the hospital almost every other day, for hours at a time, getting poked and prodded. Although there was no protein in my urine, my OB seemed genuinely worried about my rising blood pressure readings. I'm not sure if she was as frustrated as my husband and I were each time she would send us to labor and delivery with the expectation of staying there, only to be sent home each time. This happened a few times until I was 37 weeks along. That day, she made sure I was going to get induced. I was in labor for nine hours. I had to have an emergency c-section because my baby decided to come out arm first.

After a week's stay at the hospital, we went home. Less than 48 hours later, I was back in the emergency room because my blood pressured had spiked, I was having a hard time breathing, and I had chest pain. I was admitted again, this time for postpartum preeclampsia. I was put in the ICU, given magnesium sulfate to prevent seizures, and went into hypertensive crisis. The magnesium was hard on my body. It was the weakest I had ever felt, physically. I could not sit, stand, keep food in, let alone comprehend what was happening. I even forgot that I had a baby at home who needed me. My husband had gone home to be with him.

It was one of the worst feelings in the world to not have a loved one in sight for those few hours, when I felt so weak and vulnerable, and I literally had no clue what was happening. But I am sure that if worse came to worst, he would have been told to stay. What gave me comfort was the care and patience of all the wonderful nurses who were simply doing their job, some who I felt went above and beyond their job duties. They saw me at my weakest, and I don't even know most of their names or can't remember their faces because I was so out of it. I had to stay in the hospital for a few more days.

I felt stronger as each day passed. I also gained more perspective as each day passed. The stronger I felt, especially when I was able to sit, stand, walk, and eat again, the more grateful I was. The experience was painful, but the perspective and gratitude I gained was priceless. Looking at my beautiful baby boy's face every day is a reminder of that.

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