I was driving home from the hospital and it was the first time leaving alone without Michael. Downtown traffic already gives me enough anxiety as it is... but add the fact that it was raining and my hormones were all over the place and now the situation was worse. I took a wrong turn onto 394 and people were honking at me as I got flustered. Suddenly I just lost it. I cried the entire way home with tears pouring down my face. All the emotions I was trying so hard to mask, all the fear, all the worries that built up over the first 5 days of DJ's life... all of it came streaming down my face. I don't think I've ever sobbed so hard and for so long than that very moment. On social media, I come off very strong and positive (which I AM) but what people don't see are the moments I'm alone when all I do is cry. The moments when all I do is look through photos and videos on my phone of my sweet boy and cry again. The moments when I'm trying so hard to stay strong but just can't. The moments me and Michael turn the TV off and just cry together because how the hell do you watch TV and live a "normal life" on the couch knowing our sweet son is in an isolate 35 minutes away? I break down constantly... every day. It's the most helpless, heartbreaking, empty feeling in the entire world that I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy. Like most things in life, you don't truly understand a situation unless you've experienced it yourself. There are no words to express what it's like having a newborn in the hospital for 6+ weeks because you delivered 2 1/2 months early. There's just no words at all. But I want to try my best to explain just a fraction of what our life has been like so if anyone else goes into preterm labor like me, please know you are not alone and there is a huge community of people to support you. I'm sitting here in Dustin's room in complete silence, trying to figure out where and how I want to start my story... so I guess this is where I'll begin...
Going Into Labor Early It was Saturday April 20, 2019. I was 29 weeks pregnant. Michael and I had intercourse (sorry, TMI but what's the point of a blog if you're not open and honest?) and shortly afterward, I felt "off." I can't explain it, but my body just didn't like how everything was feeling. I started getting really awful cramps. I figured it was just normal pregnancy cramping so we went about our evening as planned. We got dinner with some friends of ours but the cramping continued... every 5-10 minutes. Maybe these are just gas pains? But they continued throughout the night and after dinner we were trying to decide if we should go to the ER or not. We didn't want to be those crazy parents-to-be that think every little feeling and cramp means something bad... so we decided to sleep it off. I woke up Sunday morning (Easter) and the cramps continued. My gut was telling me to go in... so we did. For the sake of this post... let me just sum up quick what we ended up finding out after being in the hospital for 6 hours. My body was having false labor contractions and we also found out I have a heart-shaped uterus called a bicornuate uterus. Which basically means baby picks one side to nest him/herself in and that's that. Which totally explained why I only felt baby movements and kicks on my left side and never the right. The doctor said it's nothing to be worried about but rather something to be aware of because it might make me go into labor slightly early due to baby running out of room to grow. Let me just reiterate that once more... slightly early. Not anything significant. So the next couple days I just rested and took it easy. The cramps had completed subsided and I felt great again. Then three days later on Wednesday, I found myself continuing to go to the bathroom much more than usual because my underwear kept feeling a little wet. Most times I didn't even have to pee but I'd go to the bathroom to wipe myself. Every time I wiped, it was clear and watery. When Michael got home from drill that night at 9:00 PM, I was on the couch Googling the symptoms and started getting worried. Did my water break? No. There's no way. I'm way too early. Plus, doesn't it just gush everywhere when "the water breaks" ? It's probably nothing. But I talked to Michael and we decided to go in just in case. So off we went... to the hospital again. This is the part of the story where everything seems a blur. We got to the hospital to find out my water did break and that I was dilated to 1 cm. Ummmm, WHAT?! Suddenly nurses and doctors were running into the room hooking me up to IVs and to an ultrasound machine and letting me know an ambulance was on its way to transport me down to Abbott Hospital. No no no no no. This is NOT actually happening. First of all, I'm supposed to be delivering at Mercy! Not Abbott. WHY Abbott? Michael and I were panicking. We had a million fears and questions racing through our minds... we couldn't even process what was happening. I looked over at him at one point and said, "What if something bad happens to me Michael?" and he could hardly contain himself. The tears started rolling down our faces in complete shock. We called our families letting them know what was happening, we dealt with a jackass doctor who came off so heartless (I later ended up reporting him... not kidding), and suddenly I was laying on a stretcher in an ambulance for the very first time. We got to the Mother Baby Center of Children's Hospital around 1:00 AM and our family was all there in support. None of us had a clue of what was going to happen or what to expect. I was told that although I'm dilated to 1 cm, they are going to try everything in their power to prolong this so that baby can stay inside until 34 weeks gestation. WAIT A SECOND. WHAT? THAT'S 4 WEEKS FROM NOW. How is that even possible? My water broke. But this Mother Baby Center specializes in women giving birth to preterm babies that are earlier than 32 weeks. So the "plan" was to keep me on bed rest in the hospital for a goal of 4 weeks. FOUR WEEKS of living in a hospital. I was beside myself. I honestly didn't even feel like this was happening. Not to mention... I didn't even feel like I was in labor. I felt great! Aside from the wetness going on every now and then but really... I felt 100% fine. No contractions even. We barely got any sleep that night. Maybe 45 minutes to be quite honest. I laid there wondering what was going to happen and played out every possible scenario in my head. I let my coworker know that I wasn't coming back for the remainder of the school year which was an incredibly weird feeling. Either I was staying in the hospital for 4 weeks or having this baby... so no matter what, going to work was out of the question.
OK - flash forward to the next morning: Thursday. I was just shy of 30 weeks pregnant and I began having some cramping again. I remember laying in the hospital bed just praying to God that I wasn't dilating any further. But the cramping got worse and worse. It wasn't long before things started to really escalate. My contractions were becoming 2-3 minutes apart and were intensely painful. They checked my cervix and I was now dilated to almost a 5. No no no no noooooooo. God, please, no. They said as long as I don't dilate to a 6, they can keep trying to prolong me from going into active labor. So they pumped all sorts of medication through my IV to try slowing things down which resulted in me feeling extremely dizzy and nauseous. I threw up a lot and the contractions were continuing to stay 2-3 minutes apart. After 6 hours of having nonstop pain and hardly catching my breath before another contraction happened, I finally got an epidural. I don't know if I'm the only one in the world completely unaware of how an epidural works... but I had NO idea how much of a production it is. I honestly thought an epidural was just a shot in the back and boom - good to go. Pain gone. But nope. I had to sit on the edge of the bed grasping onto a nurse while another nurse and Michael held me still through each contraction so they could get the epidural into my spine. That was the longest and most brutal 10 or 15 minutes I think I've ever experienced. But once that epidural kicked in... I felt like I was on a cloud totally pain free, numb from the waist down and my legs felt like tree trunks. The rest of the evening I felt no pain but was still contracting. My contractions though were slowing down to 12 or 15 minutes apart. I remember laying in the hospital bed talking to God and somehow finding acceptance and peace with what was happening in my life at that very moment. I was incredibly scared and had no hope left that this was going to be put on pause any time soon. But I also felt a sense of calmness. I felt in my heart this was truly going to happen soon - and I was right. The next morning, Friday, my epidural was still making me feel pain free but I was now dilated to 7 cm. I remember them telling me that number as I stared at the nurse in complete fear. I knew that very second I was about to have this baby today and there is no going back. 7 cm?? HOW? WHY? Holy shit. I can't believe this is actually happening to me. I'm not ready to go through with this. I can't!!! It wasn't long before things started to escalate. I started feeling cramps again but much less painful due to the wonders of the epidural. The contractions quickly dilated me to a 10 and it was go time.
Because of this high-risk birth, delivering a baby at 30 weeks gestation happens in their massive, white, sterile, intimidating and cold operating room instead of something more nice and calming like I was envisioning. They do this because the resuscitation room for the NICU center was attached right next door... where my baby would instantly go the second he/she was born. I remember laying on a delivery bed being wheeled into this space being so scared but also so calm. My delivery was weird. Usually when you're dilated to a 10, contractions are happening back-to-back consistently. Well, since I was given so much medication the last 36 hours to slow my contractions down, my contractions were coming every 12 minutes or so. So a contraction would happen and I would be pushing... and then we would awkwardly wait another 12 minutes for my next contraction before pushing again. There was one moment the doctor stood up and walked around the room just looking at tools waiting for another contraction to happen. Like WHAT in the hell?!? This is NOT what I expected birthing my child to be like. But when my contractions did happen, Michael was such a cheerleader! He was holding onto my left leg and counting in unison with the doctor and nurses shouting ONE, TWO, THREE, come on babe, FIVE, SIX, SEVEN, you got this!!!!!!!, NINE, TEN! I remember when Dustin's head starting poking out... I glanced over at Michael and I swear I'll never forget the look on his face. I was in that delivery room for 1 hour and 20 minutes... but the doctor said had my contractions been back-to-back like normal, I would've pushed Dustin out within 10-15 minutes!
Dustin was born at 12:23 PM weighing a tiny but mighty 3 lbs 1 oz and 16 inches long. When he first came out, they put him face down by my stomach and quickly cut his umbilical cord. Once they got him to begin breathing, the doctors took him into the resuscitation room and he was out of sight in an instant. "IS IT A BOY OR GIRL?!?!" we asked. "Oh we don't even know! Let me go find out!" was the doctor's reply. UMMMM WHAT? How do you just not know the gender? (now that I look back, I'm glad they didn't know because they were more concerned with getting this little man breathing and into the resuscitation room as soon as possible... which was much more important).
The doctor came back and announced, "It's a BOY!" and Michael and I began to cry. Dustin had quite a smashed up nose that had to be put back in place with stints but other than that, he was perfect.
The NICU Remember when I said earlier how you never truly understand what someone is going through unless you've walked in their shoes? Well, I had NO knowledge about the world of premature babies at all. Zero. I didn't even know what NICU stood for (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit). But wow - when you're put into this situation and become parents of a child born at 30 weeks, you start learning things very quickly and listen to every detail very intently. The NICU world is absolutely amazing and remarkable. I have gained such an appreciation for what these nurses and doctors do on a daily basis keeping these tiny little humans alive and thriving. The care my baby boy has received since being there his first day truly brings tears to my eyes. But being parents of a child living in the NICU is so incredibly difficult. The day I got discharged from the hospital was one of the toughest days we've ever had. When we got home that night, nothing seemed right. I felt like we had abandoned our son. We felt guilty being home without him next to us. The emptiness we felt was heavy on our hearts and we sat on our couch just looking at each other crying, wishing we could change our circumstances. Wishing we could live in that little room Dustin was in and never have to leave. Wishing we lived closer to the hospital. Wishing we could do SOMETHING. That first night was so hard, I can't even describe it.
The days didn't seem to get any easier. As a parent, all you want is your child to be strong and healthy. But seeing him in his little isolate with cords attached to him everywhere and a bunch of gear on his head that hid his beautiful face... it's heartbreaking. But what did get easier over time was the comfort in knowing that he is truly in the best place he could possibly be in. As we got to know the nurses, we started developing relationships with them and feeling more and more confident with the whole NICU process. Life very much became a "take it day by day" type of living, which was very difficult for me because I'm such a planner and also a very impatient person. But I had to learn and train myself to trust in God's work, believe in the team of nurses taking care of DJ and accept that this is our reality for a little while and it's only temporary. Life in the NICU is another world of its own. Every time you walk into DJ's room, you have to sanitize your hands. Any time you touch your phone and then want to touch Dustin or his isolate, you have to sanitize your hands. Anytime you touch anything at all, you have to sanitize your hands. I had to get all my fake nails taken off because I wasn't able to hold DJ with those on (can’t have nail polish on either) and all jewelry including rings has to be taken off. You can't eat in the room or be on a phone call. The room is very simple and plain with a hard leather couch and blue recliner chair. There really isn't much to it but somehow that room felt so comforting and cozy for us. We loved being in there even if we sat on the couch in complete silence just staring at the incubator and monitor screens. That room became our home away from home and as weird as it sounds, I loved making it my new hangout spot. There's been many nights we've sleep at the hospital at the Ronald McDonald house just down the hallway from the NICU. I love when we spend the night because I just feel more comforted and happy. I like to stay in Dustin's room until midnight just working on my laptop or reading a book or pumping. The room has a sink which is nice for having to clean all my breast pump parts after every use. [*Side note: when you experience something like this and have to live through it, pumping around nurses and doctors became a total humble and normal thing. I didn't even care who saw my breasts anymore.] Since we're his parents, we were able to come and go without any visiting hour restrictions and let me tell you... we take full advantage of spending as much time as we can within the walls of Dustin's room.
When you're put in a situation like this, you start to appreciate even the smallest of victories. Not even 24 hours into DJ's life, he already had his breathing tube taken out because he was breathing so well on his own (ever since his nose got fixed!). That was our first victory to celebrate. But although sometimes things don't seem to change day-by-day, they do. In fact, there have been little milestones and fun moments along the way that we've gotten to celebrate each day of his journey: holding him for my first time (they call it Kangaroo care... skin to skin contact with him on my chest), daddy holding him for his first time, changing his teeny little diaper, seeing his first poop explosion, not needing to be under the blue light anymore, lessening the amount of oxygen going into his cpap because of how good he's able to breathe... then fully getting OFF the cpap altogether, swabbing his mouth glands with my breast milk using a q-tip (which is DJ's favorite part of his cares), looking up at the chart on the wall seeing he gained another ounce, having him open his eyes and look up at mommy and daddy for the first time, increasing the amount of milk going into his tummy, helping the nurses weigh him by lifting up his fragile body, taking his temperature and helping with all the other routine cares they do (every 3 hours!). We love how the nurses encourage us to be involved in everything they do on DJ. It makes us feel like parents and makes us feel excited about every little thing that happens. And with this challenge God put on our lives, we've been needing all the excitement and happiness we can get.
Luckily my recovery after birth was pretty smooth. I was pretty independent and moving around with little pain just 3 days after this little human came out of me. With our unique situation, I am so incredibly thankful I didn't have a c-section or have a difficult recovery because Michael goes to work all day and then right when he's off, we're at the hospital all night until 9:00 or 10:00 PM. He isn't able to be home to help with anything... so when he's working, I've been able to keep up with things around the house: laundry, pumping, grocery shopping, cooking, pumping, cleaning, meal prepping and oh, did I mention pumping? If I had a difficult recovery, it would really made our lives even harder than what our circumstance already is.
So there's a little glimpse into our story and what happened with baby Dustin entering this world so soon and unexpectedly. It’s been the most stressful, scary and fearful experience we've ever gone through but we are SO incredibly joyful with how well our little man is doing. By day 5, the doctor said Dustin is a 9 on a scale of 1-10 only because he never gives out a 10 to anyone. By day 6, the doctor said he's a "boring" baby because he's so easy and there are no neurological, medical or developmental concerns at all. We also smiled when they said he's just trying to outshine all the other babies in the NICU :) So, What Now...? We are so grateful for our little man to now be out of the NICU but the ICC (Infant Care Center) poses many challenges as well. Here he will be working on feeding and getting better at breathing on his own, which may seem natural to most babies but for a preemie, this tends to be a very up and down rollercoaster of two steps forward and one step back. The emotional affects on us as parents seeing Dustin be off oxygen for 3 days and then put back on a nasal cannula is difficult but also very typical at his gestation age, according to doctors and nurses. DJ continues to have apnea and bradycardia (often called "A's & B's", or "spells") which means he has desats (desaturation in his oxygen levels) and occasional drops in his heart rate. These "spells" have become the most stressful part of this process so far. They say most premature babies will outgrow this between 34-36 weeks gestation - so we hope he outgrows this stage of the process (he is currently 32 1/2 weeks gestation). Michael and I still have hard days and breakdown moments. I still cry a lot and we pray a lot. Every day. We pray together, we pray standing over Dustin’s isolate, we pray when we’re alone... we just pray all the time. We cast our fears to the Lord because we know He is going to protect the three of us until this season of life has passed. We’re learning patience (which is NOT easy to do in this situation) and trusting in God to continue strengthening our son each and every day. We know things could be a lot worse and that many people with premature babies wish they were in our position with how well our son is doing overall... but that doesn't make things easier on us. We still find this process very difficult and emotionally draining. We are so excited, impatient and anxious for the day we get to bring him home.
THANK YOU... We are so thankful for not just how well he's doing but for all the support we've had from family, friends, strangers and everyone else that has reached out. People giving us gifts, making us meals, buying us food, sending us gift cards for the grocery store and gas cards for all the driving, coming down to Children's to see the three of us, getting things we need, checking in on our sweet Luna at home, mowing our grass, bringing us necessities to the hospital... it's been amazing. It has truly touched our hearts. There was an army of people praying for DJ leading up to the moment he was born and so many people continuing to pray over him throughout his journey in the hospital. God has been listening to all the prayers and has been putting protection and strength over the three of us. I can feel his presence when we are in the hospital. I could truly cry happy tears right now just thinking about all the outpour of love we've received. To all the wonderful nurses: You ladies work on the smallest of humans but have the biggest hearts. The only reason my husband and I feel comfort and peace each night we go home is because of how amazing you all are. Thank you for taking such good care of our baby boy and being so passionate about your job. It takes a special person to do what you do. We have so much gratitude and appreciation for the NICU and ICC team at Children's Hospital. "God gives the toughest battles to his strongest soldiers."
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