Charlie is here!

 

I know that months ago, I said goodbye to this blog.  It wasn't until July that I started to regret that decision. Little did I know, I would need writing as an outlet more than ever. But I argued with myself about writing again, knowing that I had already written a lengthy farewell and I had closed that chapter in my life, so to speak. So I left my blog alone, until now.  There is, of course, a big reason why I am updating this blog some 9 months after my last post.


Charlotte is here!

But not without a fight. (Note: you can totally skip all the drama if you want and just read this summary (and skip this summary if you don't want spoilers): incompetent cervix, 3 months of bedrest, multiple close calls to the hospital, delivery at 35 and 5, 12 days in the NICU, home now and doing great!).

At 22 weeks and 4 days, the same gestational age Conner and Ben were when they were born and passed away, I went in for a routine ultrasound. I had been getting them weekly to check on my cervix. Although technically unnecessary since I had no cervical issues with Jordan, my doctors were taking every precaution that they could. And thank God that they did, because my ultrasound tech looked at me with worry that day and asked me if I remembered what my length had been the week before. She had seen me through two previous pregnancies, and I could tell she was trying to break bad news to me. I said about 3.7 cm. She replied with, "it's a little shorter this week..." Of course, I asked her how much shorter.

1.9 cm.

And off to triage I went, crying the whole way there.

After much deliberation between my ob, mfm, my husband and I, we decided to take no action. Two  to four centimeters is considered the standard for a normal cervix, and I was just below that. Not only that, but I have had my cervix shorten before only to have it bounce right back up the week after. At 22 and a half weeks, getting a cervical cerclage was extremely risky - the surgery itself could throw my into labor or worse, break my water bag. Was it worth the risk? Multiple doctors said at this point, no. But they did warn us that it was now or never on the cervical cerclage. I had to make a decision now. Some doctors don't do it past 20 weeks, most won't go near it past 22. We went home to sleep on it, came back the next day to get remeasured, found that my cervix was holding steady, and went back home with the instructions to come back to the hospital the next week to get remeasured.

I walked into the hospital at 23 weeks and 4 days, drinking a Starbucks, expecting good news. I hopped on the table, and I instantly saw the worst news I could get: funneling.

I asked the MFM ultrasound tech, a complete stranger to me, to tell me what I already knew. How much cervix did I have left? She replied with, "That's what I'm trying to figure out...right now, I see no measurable cervix."

So that was the end game. Just shy of viability, I had no cervix and saw deep funneling. I instantly threw my hands to my head and cried. How would I tell Tim? What would I say to Jordan? How was I going to survive another loss?

The ultrasound tech called in an MFM, one I had never met before and one that I hope I never see again. He asked a sobbing me what was going on, as if the ultrasound tech hadn't already filled him in. I looked at him like he was stupid and cruel for making me repeat this story, but I somehow found the words through my crying. He repeated the ultrasound and found that every time the baby kicked, the funneling got worse and my cervix shortened to just about nothing. But when she wasn't moving, my cervix was at about 1.3 cm.I had what they call a "dynamic cervix." Much better news than no cervix at all. But then he told me that at 23 and a half weeks, there were no more preventative measures we could take to save this baby. I called Tim, sobbing, and after taking a deep breath I asked him to come to the hospital. He had planned his work day that day to be working right by the hospital, so thankfully he was there within a matter of minutes. The MFM sent me to triage. I asked if I had to walk there, and he gave me a look. Yes, I did. Um, no, I had no cervix left - I requested a wheelchair.

They basically gave my baby a death sentence. They said they were going to call in a neonatologist and discuss our options with us - basically, did we want to take heroic measures and save a baby that has not reached 24 weeks yet? At that, I requested to use the bathroom and cried my eyes out in private. When I walked back into the triage room, all the doctors were gone. A knock came at my door and another MFM walked in.  I had met Dr. Kay after I had the boys, and again when I was pregnant with Jordan. She sat down, discussed what was happening with my cervix, and then, right when I was spacing out, nonchalantly said, "I won't say no to doing one if you want one."

Wait, want what? I mean, three doctors at this point (all of whom were in her practice) had told us we had no options. Turns out, she meant a rescue cerclage. Tim and I jumped at it, even though we knew the risks were high. It looked like Charlotte would be arriving soon without a cerclage, and even if the cerclage caused a ruptured water bag or threw me into labor, it wouldn't change the outcome of what was already happening on this course. I couldn't believe it. We were given another chance to make the right decision - the decision we should have made the week before. I could have hugged her right then. She scheduled it for the next day, in order to give the baby rescue betamethasone shots for her lungs and to give me a round of antibiotics to fight infection (which, as you all know, I was already at high risk for).

The next day, in the OR, after hours of my surgery being pushed back (apparently I wasn't considered as an emergency - not sure if that was good or bad), a stitch was put into place to help keep my cervix shut. It was low and weak, since it was not placed in a preventative measure (rather, it was an emergent measure) and the MFM was trying not to nick my water bag or bladder. But it was something. Everyone assumed I was knocked out during surgery but I was awake - wide awake. During the surgery, I heard Dr. Kay say "piece of cake."

Afterwards, she told me that she had seen a tear in my cervix at 12 o'clock. We don't know what it is from - from delivering Conner and Ben, or from nearly delivering Jordan before my emergency c-section. We will never know. But it is most likely what was causing my cervical issues with Charlotte. The resident who helped with the surgery told my husband that it was a tough surgery, but Dr. Kay made it look easy. This was after multiple doctors said that it the surgery could not be done with my issues and with how far along we were already. The gratitude we owe to Dr. Kay cannot be expressed into words.

One day after coming home from the hospital, I was readmitted in the middle of the night with contractions. We were 24 weeks and 1 day. They placed me on the horrible mag drip, kept me overnight for observations, and sent me back home terrified. Everyone thought I would be having this baby any minute.

But then a week went by. And another week. And another. And soon we were at 28 weeks, receiving another round of betamethasone shots "just in case." But every week that went by, my cervix gained length and the funneling receded. The weak, low cerclage was actually giving me just enough support that my cervix was acting like it should - holding my baby in.

I won't lie, bed rest was horrible. Many people told me that bed rest sounded great - lie in bed all day, have people waiting on me, not have to work, etc. But here was the reality of it:

• I missed my daughter. Jordan was sent to my MIL's house almost every day, or someone else was watching her in our house. I couldn't run after her, I had to pull out of our mommy and me class, Tim took her to Gymboree instead of me, and even holding her was a challenge. Jordan missed me, too. I can't tell you how it broke my heart every morning when Tim scooped her up from her crib, still half asleep, and her wailing and reaching out to me because she didn't want to leave. I don't think she remembers any of this anymore, but I'll never forget the pain that I felt missing all these memories and moments with her. I can't even continue writing about this, because it hurts too much.
• My marriage was strained. I am a control freak, and having someone else take over my responsibilities was just too much for me. At the same time, Tim could not handle working two jobs, taking care of Jordan, the house, the bills, and me. We were at each other's throats, at least the first few weeks. 
• There is not enough good tv out there to keep you occupied on bed rest. However - GAME OF THRONES IS AMAZING. 
• Ever wonder what would happen to your body if you were eating because you were bored AND you weren't getting up to do anything except pee, occasionally shower, and make some food? Swelling, massive weight gain, and muscle loss. I don't know if my body will ever look the same again. 
• I think I lost about half of my adult vocabulary simply because I never got to see anyone unless they came to the house. 
• I was actually supposed to start a new job the day that I got the news that my cervix was shortening. Obviously, I could not work on bed rest, so money was/is super tight. Not a great thing when you are preparing to bring another baby home. 
• My house, that I cleaned every day, was a disaster. If you know me, you know that my anxiety was through the roof over the messy house. 
• Wondering if my baby was literally going to come out of me every time I took a step was destroying me. I was on edge every second until I reached 34 weeks (when I finally convinced myself I could take a breath and relax). 

Still, every second was worth it. I was able to have more freedom as the weeks went by - got my hair done at 28 weeks, was able to go out for dinner at 34 weeks for our 5th wedding anniversary, got to go to the pumpkin patch, etc. I just made sure that for the majority of the day, I was off my feet. I even started to keep Jordan at home with me, making sure to do simple things like read to her, watch some Mickey Mouse Club House, and of course nap when she napped :)

At exactly 35 weeks, I found myself back in the hospital. I had a routine OB appointment that day. For a few days prior, I had been feeling Braxton Hicks contractions and my doctor thought that he should check my cervix.  He was quiet for just a second too long, and I knew he was going to tell me something big - and he did. I was 2-3 centimeters dilated. But we both agreed that at 35 weeks, we were okay with this. Also, this could be the natural progression of things - it was not uncommon for women to start dilating when they are this far along. However, with the cerclage in, there was talk of the stitches ripping my cervix. So, I had to go to the hospital to get checked out and possibly deliver that day.

When we got to the hospital, they picked up some contractions but not cervical changes. They were able to get the contractions to stop, kept me overnight, and sent me back home the next day. I have to admit that I was a little bummed out, because we (me, my husband, my doctor, etc.) we so sure we were meeting Charlie that day. Especially after my OB told me he had a feeling that my cerclage would not hold. I even called Tim from the doctor's office and asked him if he was ready to have a baby today. I met him at my mother in law's house, where Jordan was, said my goodbye to Jordan, tried not to cry as I thought these were my last moments with just her, and we were on our way. Then it turned out that I was going to be pregnant just a little while longer. Five days, to be exact.

At 35 weeks and 4 days, I went to bed with a couple of sharp pains - nothing at all that felt like contractions. But after a few minutes, they stopped, I went to bed, and thought nothing of it. Ligament pains, I thought. Whatever. But when I woke up the next morning, there they were again. I still powered through it, took Jordan to Gymboree (where I felt absolutely nothing), and then got in my car to take her home. At this point, I noticed the baby had not been moving much, if at all, that day.  I couldn't help but make the call to the doctor, just in case. As I was waiting for him to call me back (he was in surgery), I called Tim, who agreed that I would probably be sent to the hospital, and he met me at his mom's house where we would be dropping Jordan off. It was there that I really started to get contractions - and I knew they were contractions. After calling the after hours nurse again (the office didn't open until 1 pm that day, so technically "after hours"), the doctor called me back and told me that what I was describing were contractions. But since last time had been a false alarm, I went to the hospital thinking this was nothing, again.

Wrong. I was met in triage by the MFM resident who was there for my cerclage surgery. She was so happy to see I was still pregnant, and after checking me she informed me that I was 5 cm dilated and that we could not wait - she had to take the cerclage out now to avoid tearing my cervix. Originally, we were waiting to be in the OR for a c-section to remove the cerclage so I would have anesthesia for it, but even as they were prepping the OR right then and there, they couldn't wait. So out the cerclage came, which wasn't so bad - took about a few seconds to actually get it out, and besides the speculum, I didn't feel a thing. I texted everyone to tell them that today was the baby's birthday, and before I knew it, my OB had met with me and I was wheeled off to the OR.

I had quite the anxiety attack in the OR. In triage, they had missed the IV three times and my arms were a mess. Then, the IV they finally placed a few minutes prior to me getting to the OR stopped working. They placed one high up in my left arm, which hurt like hell. I was worried about the epidural (ouch), it was freezing cold in the OR, my husband wasn't in there yet, and my baby was coming early. I was in tears. The c-section itself was kind of a blur. Charlie was out, crying right away (much to my relief). I asked if she was okay, and as soon as my OB said she looked good, I asked if she had a lot of hair. Ha. She did! As they started to close me up, I felt sharp pains (which the nurse told me was from my uterus being outside of my body. Didn't need to know that). They gave me IV meds to calm me down, but I was still in a panic. They finally brought Charlie over to me. I only got to see her, not hold her, for a few seconds before she was taken to the NICU. I didn't even get a good look at her - I was pinned to the table this time, with my arms bound, and I was in pain (thanks, sucky epidural). Tim kept asking if I could see her and I kept saying no. But they couldn't wait any longer, and off she went - but not without a kiss from me.

They told me that she looked great - was eating on her own, breathing on her own, regulating her temperature on her own. She was also my biggest baby, at 5 pounds, 13 ounces. Her neonatologist said she would probably be discharged from the NICU and rooming in with me the next day. But then they noticed her blood sugar levels were low, and they kept her a few extra days to monitor that. Thank God, because during those few days we realized she was going into bradycardia when she was eating. The first time she had one, I was holding her and burping her. I didn't realize what was happening - she was coughing, so I kept trying to burp her. But then her face turned blue. The nurse ran over, took her and gave her a couple pats on the back and her heart rate went back up. This happened a couple times a day over the course of her 12 day stay in the NICU. She was almost discharged 4 or 5 times, but every time they went to discharge her, she would have another brady. I can't tell you what it is like as a mother to watch your baby's heart rate go from 130 to 70 (or even 50) in a matter of a second and see her face turn blue. Luckily, Charlie almost always self corrected herself without needing stimulation from other people - and it almost always happened when she was eating, so we knew when to be extra careful. The whole suck-breathe-swallow reflex was just too much for her preemie brain at the time. And, as the nurses said - she went at the breast or bottle like it was her last meal. She couldn't slow down, and she would forget to breathe while eating.

I cried buckets of tears every time we thought we could bring her home but then ended up leaving empty handed. By one week, they had tried to discharge her three times. She even had her carseat test and her newborn pictures taken in the NICU, which is something reserved for babies about to go home. Nurses packed her bags to go home. We even filled out the discharge paperwork once, only for a team of neonatologists to put her on a 5-day brady watch instead. We spent about 7 hours a day in the NICU, trying to split our time between her and Jordan. I felt like the worst mother in the world, because I felt like I could not be a mother to them both at the same time. It broke my heart that Jordan had not met Charlie yet. I came home one day and could still smell her baby lotion on me. I cried in our garage, by myself, thinking of my baby all alone in her hospital bed.

We finally got to bring her home on October 23rd, after 12 days in the NICU. She is a laid-back, happy baby who wants to be held all the time and has stolen the hearts of all of us, including her sister. Jordan won't stop saying "baby! baby!" and shoves Charlie's pacifier in Charlie's mouth every chance she gets... and also runs away with it. Charlie has been smothered by sister kisses since day 1 of being home.

And now, what you've really been waiting for - photo dump!

NICU's cutest

Happy baby

Hungry baby

The boys always letting us know they were around

Newborn pics in NICU

Conner giraffe and Benjamin puppy

Two weeks

Daddy's girl

Taylor 110 - in honor of boys' birth date

Tim and his girls

BONUS PICS

Maternity session

Jordan stole the show!

Love Tim's tattoo for the boys here

Halloween! Baby Sully - get it???

Boo and her "Kitty"

She is the perfect BOO! Even runs around yelling BOO! All the time!

Boo and Mike

My favorite picture of her - taken days before we got the news about my cervix. We had spent the day at the zoo and playing outside - one of my best memories before I had to be put on bed rest. 

Charlie on her one month birthday, being loved on!

I also had to fit this in here - if any of you remember, I had a nurse during my hospital stay with Jordan named Cathy. You can read about her here. She was my nurse again with Charlie, and told me she still had my thank you card and would remember me and my story about my boys long after she retired. She told me I needed the picture of the boys up in my room again this time, although for some reason we couldn't find it (I did end up finding it later). We hugged and shed some tears, and I am so grateful to have seen her again. I feel like the boys sent her to me again, when I needed her.

I don't know if I will update the blog again, but I do feel like this was important to post. I hope you all are doing well :)