So, they've just taken my baby back to the nursery to have the doctor look at her breathing. Then they tell me that my urine output is not what it should be which can be symptomatic of post-delivery complications from the pre-eclampsia, so I'll be wheeled back to labor and delivery and administered magnesium sulfate (mag for short). I cry. I was so ready to move on to postpartum, nothing seems to be going right, and I'm full of hormones.
We make arrangements to leave most of my belongings in what will eventually be my post-partum room and Brian goes down there to grab essentials. They start my mag drip. Mag is a horrible and evil drug. I've never felt that close to death. Also Naomi was transferred to the NICU because of her breathing issues and we really don't know much at first. This is how the next day goes - at least my hazy recollection of it as the drug pretty much turned me into a zombie.
They do a blood draw and run labs every 4 hours, so my veins are being abused and my arms are bruised. They change my dressings and check my incision periodically. I still have my catheter as I'm not allowed to get out of bed which is fine with me since I really don't feel like it anyway. I still have my epidural in with the drip but my neck is killing me for some reason (and the epidural doesn't reach up that far) so I don't sleep well at all. The NICU doctor comes in around 1:00 am or so to give us an update on Naomi - they had to intubate her and give her surfactin (I think that's the name of the drug for her lung maturity). He anticipates that she will do very well.
The next day is a bit of a blur. I get switched from the epidural to a morphine drip so at least my neck stops hurting; I'm pressing the button as often as I can. Brian is torn all day between me and Naomi, trying to be there for both of his girls. I was miserable. I couldn't even keep water down; I threw up everything. When our family left last night, nothing had happened, so they have no idea that I'm on mag and Naomi's in the NICU. I'm in no shape to talk to anyone and I don't know who Brian ended up telling that morning. I'm pretty sure he just told people as they called and not everyone called; some people just showed up assuming all was well. At some point Brian went down to the NICU to check on Naomi and left his phone in my room, so all of our phones are ringing while he's gone (my phone, his phone, the room phone) and I don't answer any of them since I can't reach them and don't feel like talking anyway. Visitors are coming in my room and I'm having to explain everything. My throat is dry and dehydrated since I can't keep water down and barely bother drinking it anymore. I actually threw up into a plastic container in front of some visitors. I'm overwhelmed and exhausted. Finally when another visitor comes in, I call for the nurse to get my husband. I just can't take it anymore. He comes and finishes the visit for me which is good because I proceed to nod off. Brian handles the next visitors and I nod off a lot - while people are talking to me, praying over us, etc. In the afternoon, the lactation consultant comes in with the hospital pump so I can begin pumping breast milk for Naomi since I can't feed her. I barely stay awake but luckily it's not too difficult.
Naomi self-extubated and was put on oxygen that morning, a good sign. However, she still hadn't passed her first poo, so she was diagnosed with a meconium plug. They fed her through an IV and did a contrast enema to determine the extent and location of the plug and to try to unplug it. Brian had to tell me all of this later. I feel horrible for him. He's having to handle all of the NICU stuff on his own and I know it's got to be difficult for him to stay so strong for our newly expanded family. He was a trooper and my rock through all of this.
That evening around dinner time, I was finally taken off the mag, they removed the morphine drip, and I was finally transferred to my post-partum room. Brian and a couple family members watched as the color came back into my face and I came back to life. Within two hours, I was practically a new woman. I tried to hold down some liquids (water and broth). At first, it didn't stay down, but finally did.
Also, I finally got to go down to the NICU and see my baby girl at one of her "touch times". The NICU has touch times when they change her diaper, take her temperature, and hold her. She's got an IV in her head (since they couldn't get it in anywhere else), the oxygen tubes, and monitoring wires. My friend Stefanie is right, it does make it very difficult to change her diaper, feed her, or even hold her. It's hard for our family too as they aren't having the experience they expected either. They aren't seeing and holding and cooing over their new little family member like they want to. Finally Brian and I go back to my room and settle in for the night. What a day!
More to come...
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