This story starts the weekend of September 25 - the Alabama v. Arkansas game. It was a very close game - much too close for my comfort and I did a lot of screaming at the TV (because I truly believe that when I yell at the players on TV they can hear me). In the middle of the game I started to feel sick. Really sick to my stomach. And I even threw up at one point. I had Jeremy run out and get my some Maalox or something equivalent thinking I had heart burn. I took it and then curled up in the only position that made me somewhat comfortable and went to bed. Unfortunately, it was a very odd position and the next day (Sunday, Sept. 26) I woke up with a bad headache and crick in my neck. But of course I thought it was from sleeping funny. So this headache lasted all day and never went away. It just got worse. And I had a sharp pain all the way down the right side of my body. I could barely move my head from side to side it hurt so bad. I really thought I had a pinched nerve. I didn't sleep at all Sunday night because I was in so much pain. Work on Monday wasn't any better. Monday after work we had our birthing class and I even asked the instructor who she recommended for a chiropractor for pregnant women. Monday night was worse than the others and I ended up on the couch because I was crying I was in so much pain (and at this point I was extremely tired!). Finally around 4 a.m. on Tuesday September 28, I went in and woke Jeremy up in my passive aggressive way. He asked if I wanted to go to the hospital, but of course I didn't. My actual response was "They're going to laugh at me." I had no labor pains or anything of the sort so why would I go to labor and deliver (L&D)?!? Made no sense to me to do so. I just had a really bad headache. But finally Jeremy said "remember the instructor said if you just don't feel right to go to L&D." So we got dressed, I grabbed my pillow, and we headed to TMH Women's Pavilion.
When I got there I had to fill out all the paperwork - you know, the stuff they say to do BEFORE you have to come in for labor so you don't have to do it while you're sitting there in pain. Well, since I still had a full 2 months before I was set to have this baby, I hadn't done the paperwork online yet. So I had to sit there, in pain, and do it. LOL Ironic. I finally get taken back to triage and they take my blood pressure. It was 170/120. Yup, you read that correctly. The nurse definitely looked a little nervous. And then the urine results came back and there was protein in it. Hmmm, not looking good. So they decided to admit me to run more tests. I got put on magnesium to help stabalize me so I didn't have a seizure (something I guess they were worried about because my BP was so high). And getting the IV was only the beginning of several days of poking. I had blood drawn every few hours to check my liver enzymes and platelet count. And they continued to monitor my proteins.
Around lunch time on the 28th, I realize I'm starving. The nurses say I can have "whatever I want" so I go straight for the comfort food: McDonald's. Mrs. Daniell brought me and Jeremy hamburgers and fries and we all ate around my hospital bed. Well, unfortunately the Big Mac did not sit well on my stomach and I soon saw it again. :-/ Then the nurse says "well, you probably shouldn't have eaten something so greasy." UM, HELLO?!? You said I could have WHATEVER I wanted. If there were qualifications, you should have told me. Sheesh. Anyway, that was the start of me not being able to keep anything down. So that was a lot of fun.
Jeremy was a trooper and opted to spend the night in the hospital room with me that night. He didn't realize he needed to prepare like he was sleeping outside . . . in Alaska . . . in winter. The stupid magnesium made me so bloomin' hot! I was sweating to death and it was like 65 degrees in the room. Jeremy spent the whole night shivering, whereas I could barely stand to have a sheet over me and I had to have ice packs placed on my forehead throughout the night. Let's just say, I HATED the magnesium.
So the next morning there was a mishap and all the hard work we spent the past 24 hours of collecting and monitoring the proteins went down the tube - literally. One of the nurses spilled the collection. So I was told we had to start over for another 24 hours. ARE YOU SERIOUS?! So at this point, the doctor had basically told me there were three options: I would go home on bed rest, I would stay at the hospital on bed rest, or I would have to deliver. Going home on bed rest is what was initially considered as the most likely option. But as the morning progressed on the 29th, it seemed that staying in the hospital on bed rest was what was going to happen. You can probably guess how thrilled I was with that prospect. Two months of bed rest - in the hospital? Yuck! But whatever I had to do right? Honestly, throughout this, all is still hunky-doory. I had some friends visit me in the hospital (BTW, thank you for not mentioning how horrible I must have looked!) and Jeremy had brought up the computer. We were chilling. And then around 4 p.m. Dr. Dixon came to see me. And that's when our world was turned upside down.
Basically throughout all of the blood tests that had been done, my liver enzymes just kept increasing. Now, since I'm not a doctor I can't really explain what this means or why it's really bad. But supposedly it is. REALLY bad. So bad in fact that Dr. Dixon didn't bother telling me until my 6 week post-pardum appointment that basically my liver was on the verge of rupturing and I would have more than likely died. Hmm, yah, I'm glad he left that tidbit out while I was in the hospital. I remember it so clearly. Dr. Dixon said that I needed to have a c-section - that day. In a few hours. I didn't even know how to comprehend this. My first thought was "But I'm only 31 weeks. Will the baby be ok???" Dr. Dixon said that the baby would be very small, but that they had put me on steroids as soon as I was admitted, so that should help. But very vividly I remember him saying "But even if you were a month earlier than this, I'd still say we have to do the c-section." So that was that. C-section scheduled. And immediately we got on the phone to my parents and told them they better get on the road and get to Tallahassee because Baby Daniell was coming that night. Needless to say everyone was pretty shocked.
The rest of the afternoon we spent contacting people and taking bets on whether it was a girl or a boy. We joked a lot, laughed a lot. I remember my in-laws looking at me like I was crazy. But I had to keep it lighthearted because if I let myself think about how I was feeling inside I knew I would lose it.
So right before surgery, the nurses came in to prep me. And that IS when I lost it. I'd never had surgery in my life. Heck, I'd never stayed in a hospital before. And now I was being whisked away for a surgery to bring my baby into this world 2 months early. I remember bawling. Normally when a woman is taken through the doors in the Women's Pavilion they push a bell and this happy sound chimes alerting everyone that a baby was just born or was about to be born. The nurse wheeling me to surgery explained this to me and then pushed it as we went through the doors. That just made me cry even harder. This was supposed to be the happiest moment of my life and all I could do was cry - and not tears of joy either. I was petrified. My biggest, number 1 fear (that I refused to say aloud until the whole ordeal was done) was that they'd bring my baby out, but that he or she wouldn't cry. I remember that fear clear as if it all happened yesterday. So here I am, unable to control myself. I'm a sobbing fool and as they are trying to give me the epidural you want to know the next thought that went through my mind? "Ashley, get it together or else you'll be shaking so much that they will stab that long-ass needle in your spine and you'll be paralized." LOL Yah, I admit it. I had that thought. But luckily it all went fine.
They got done prepping me and it looked like they were about to start and Jeremy wasn't there yet. So I proceed to freak out (again!). Well wouldn't you?!? Finally they bring him in. But I found out later, they brought him in after they had already cut so he got to see me in all my glory. Thank God he loves me!
Anyway, he sat with me and held my hand and wiped away my tears. And finally, FINALLY, I heard the most beautiful thing in the entire world. I heard my baby's cry . . . oh heck, who am I fooling? His SCREAM. He was screaming at the top of his lungs. But it was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. I sighed a huge breath of relief at that moment. And then Dr. Dixon held my baby over the sheet and revealed that we had a handsome little boy. But then he was immediately whisked over to the neonatologist for inspection. Jeremy was able to go with him to the NICU while I was being stiched up. Then we met back in the rocovery room and decided on his name: Donovan Knox Daniell. Jeremy went out to tell the parents that we had a healthy (relatively speaking) baby boy. My parents came back to see me. (They had arrived at the hospital right after I had been taken for surgery). Jeremy's parents came back to see me. And finally I was able to go see Knox. He was so tiny. But they let me hold him. And I'm pretty sure I cried all over again.
You'd think the ordeal was over right? But no. My liver enzymes were still elevated so I ended up having to stay in the labor and delivery ward for another full day (instead of going up to the family unit). And while in L&D I had to stay on the magnesium. That stuff really messed me up. I hated it. I felt like I couldn't focus on anything, and it gave me this horrible headache and made me nauseas. Yuck. I felt so bad I wasn't able to go up to see Knox that next day at all. :-( Friday, October 1st, I was finally able to move up to the family unit. But that was difficult in and of itself. Because I saw all these other moms walking around with their babies. And I didn't have mine. I spent a lot of time up there crying to myself. But Jeremy was with me and tried to keep me peppy and we'd go visit Knox every chance we got.
So yah, that's a really long birth story. And it doesn't even go into the next full month of craziness that we went through until we were able to bring our little man home. But he's with us now. And he's thriving. I mean THRIVING. The boy is a chunker! That's his nickname: the chunky monkey. Mainly because so many of the clothes he was given had monkeys on them. But at 5 months old he is now 12 pounds. He has almost trippled his birth weight. And he's happy and he laughs and he's mine.
This week we are up for our next little adventure in his life - surgery on his hemangioma. But I realized through this entire process that I've got to let things go. Life has it's own plan most of the time. And I just have to go with the flow. Live each day. Cherish all the small moments. And shower him with kisses every chance I get.
