*I want to post a TRIGGER WARNING that this post, and the subsequent parts will detail infertility issues, death, preterm birth, hospital/medical bias, and other subjects that might be triggering for some. There will also be pictures of premature infants which (from personal experience) can be triggering. I will post this at the beginning of each part.*
Once I calmed down from the initial shock of being admitted I updated my friends, and online support group about my situation with the baby. I lamented that I hadn't had a baby shower yet, and didn't have anything ready for the baby. I had assumed I would have more time. Everything felt like it was coming so fast, and was completely out of my control.
A different nurse came into my room. My bed was put in trendelenburg position (flat on back, feet above head, head toward ground in a 15-30 degree incline). I was given a catheter, and an IV. They started magnesium sulfate, told me I was not allowed to eat, or leave the bed, and was given a surfactant injection to help mature the baby's lungs, procardia to stop my nonexistent contractions, and also because my blood pressure (BP) had skyrocketed. Because of my BP they started a 24 hour urine collection to test for protein in my urine. I have white coat syndrome, so I honestly was not surprised my BP was so high. I was told that in the morning if I had not had the baby yet, someone from the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) would come talk with me about my expected outcome.
They contacted my midwife for my records. Because my EDD and ultrasounds did not match the hospital's records they called in a specialist to review my records. This changed my due date to 2/10/15 which pushed me back a day on my gestation. This normally would not be a big deal, but the difference of a day can make a difference in the interventions some hospitals allow to save your baby. Many hospitals will not attempt to save your baby if you are less than 24 weeks.
Everything calmed down by around midnight. The doctor returned to cheerfully tell me that my drug test came back negative (duh), that she would be on for the rest of the night, and I would have a new doctor at 7 am. At this hospital the doctors ran in 24 hour shifts. I struggled to get to sleep on the uncomfortable delivery bed, in such an awkward position. I was sad, worried, and confused. I decided to spend my time researching prematurity, what my expected outcome could be, and again the stillbirth day website. I called my mom at some point during all this, and she prayed and tried to calm my fears. She reminded me my cousin was born around this gestational age, and went on to live a healthy life without complications. My triplet mom friend promised to come see me the next day.
Around 6:30 am I finally dosed off for about an hour. The new doctor came to do rounds around 10 am. It was a black female doctor. Now by this point I knew better than to get my hopes up, but in a crisis you will seek any port in the storm. The doctor told me that so far I was stable and my urine test came back negative for protein. I expressed that I wanted to have a natural birth, and that if I had to have a c-section I would want to be able to have a vaginal birth after cesarean (VBAC) with my next baby. The doctor replied, "As of your last ultrasound baby was head down. Because of the gestational age of the baby it's too risky to have a vaginal delivery as the baby could change positions before you pushed them out. I would need to give you a c-section. Also because you're only 27w your uterus is too tough for a bikini cut incision. I would need to give you a classical incision which means you would not be eligible for a VBAC in the future."
I honestly had no words. My first thought was "How could you?!? You're supposed to be on MY team!" I was in so much shock I just sat there processing the information. I talked to my partner, and after all that had happened already I told him I didn't want to stay at this hospital anymore. He agreed. Even though the next hospital was 20+ minutes from our house it just wasn't worth all of this.
The neonatalogist came to my room. He was from All Children's Hospital which specializes in premature infants. He did 24 hours rotations at this hospital's NICU. He reassured me that this hospital was equipped to deal with premature infants, and that no transfers would be necessary for the baby. The thought of a possible transfer hadn't crossed my mind so I was happy to hear that. From the things I had researched I learned that breastmilk was the best form of nutrition for premature infants, and that those who received it had better outcomes. I asked the doctor if the hospital provided donor milk if I was unable to produce enough milk for the baby. He replied, "No we do not. Formula is just as good." I was honestly shocked. You're a doctor at another hospital that has strict protocols for prescribing donor milk to preterm infants, but at this hospital "formula is just as good". Erm no. The doctor then proceeded to give me all the worst case scenarios of my baby being born early, then left my room shortly after this.
Around this time I was told that they were going to move me to an extended stay room as I was currently in a delivery room. The room they moved me to had a pull out bed. My younger sister came to the hospital and stayed with me. Two, young, black CNAs came and gave me a bed bath. They were as professional as they could be. They tried to boost my spirits. I was more humiliated by being unable to care for myself than anything. They told me the nurse would come in, and put me back on the contraction monitor.
When the nurse came in, I asked her to have me transferred to Tampa General Hospital. She said she would talk to the doctor, and get back to me. I never heard from the doctor or the nurse for the rest of the shift. At shift change a different nurse came to give me my medication. I asked if I would be allowed to eat. She stated that was not possible at this time. By now I had not eaten for over 48 hours.
After the nurse left my triplet mom friend came to visit. She brought me a gender reveal cake, and a sign her kids had made with their hand prints., and footprints. She talked me through some things I could expect. She explained that doctors have to give all worst case scenarios so that if they happened we were not surprised. I wasn't allowed to eat the cake she sent, but I did taste the frosting at least.
By night time I still had not heard from the doctor. I knew by now she was ignoring me. I decided that I would talk with the doctor that came on shift the next morning. Someone was going to listen to me.
Stay tuned for the next part! Catch up on previous parts here: 1 2 3