Each Birth Story is Different..........

My birth story of my oldest daughter was far from usual.  Sharing the events that led up to her birth tell a lot more than the actual birth itself.  Hopefully, over the course of this class, I will be able share some of my daughter's story.  She is truly a miracle!

Here is Macy Elaine's birth story:

My pregnancy was going so well.  I was a healthy, married 24-year-old woman.  Yeah, I was sick in the beginning, and for a teacher, sickness just didn’t work.  Around 16 weeks, my nausea started to dissipate.  My pregnancy then became fun!  I loved the attention, the back rubs, and the foot massages.  I loved being pregnant!  Although I was measuring a little small, my 18 weeks ultrasound showed that they baby was growing and looked healthy.  We could’ve found out the sex of the baby, but decided to wait for the surprise.

            My pregnancy continued moving right along, I was gaining weight, craving chocolate cupcakes, and having mood swings.  My husband, Jeremy, and I were getting our home ready for the day we got to bring home our little bundle of joy.  The baby’s room was decorated in soft yellows, greens, and dragonflies.  Although it was very neutral, it still had a “little girl” feel to it.  We decided if we had a boy we would “boy” it up by adding fishing poles and netting.   Our car seats were placed in the back of each vehicle for the first car ride home.  Everything was going perfectly!

            At my 26 weeks appointment, my doctor still thought that I seemed to be measuring small, so he made an appointment for me to have another ultrasound.  The thought that something might be wrong sent me into a frenzy.  I started looking things up on the internet, which I shouldn’t have never done.  It went into numerous causes for measuring small, some that were nothing, and others were very serious conditions.  I was scared to death!  I started talking to everyone I knew.  I asked questions to everyone or anyone who had been pregnant or simply knew anyone who had ever been pregnant.  Everyone assured me things would be fine.

            At 28 weeks, I had my ultrasound. The technician said everything looked fine, and stated that the baby’s legs were a little short, but nothing to be concerned about. I have short legs.  She said the baby was about 3 lbs, 6 oz.  She didn’t think the baby was destined to be large since Jeremy and I were both small people ourselves. 

            At 31 weeks, I started to swell.  Everyone once again assured me that swelling was normal, especially since I was on my feet all of the time.  That Friday, I didn’t teach due to some deadlines that needed to be done for our charter school.  I was sitting with my feet propped, on the phone all day long.  The swelling didn’t go away.  I approached a co-worker in the restroom who had just had a baby and asked her about it.  She asked if my hands were swelling.  I looked at them and realized they kind of were.  She suggested possibly going to my doctor’s office to have my blood pressure checked.  I decided if the swelling didn’t go away I would. 

            I went home from work that day and laid down for a nap.  I thought if I propped my feet and relaxed things would be back to normal when I woke up.  They weren’t.  When Jeremy got home I suggested that we go to a local pharmacy to have my blood pressure checked before heading out to dinner.

            When we got the first reading back from the machine, we both looked at each other in disbelief thinking it was wrong.  I waited 5 minutes and tried again.  The numbers were even worse the second time.  That’s when we headed to the Med Check where my sister-in-law worked as a student nurse.  She checked it twice also, and suggested I call my doctor.  I called the doctor on the way to the hospital just to let him know I was going. 

            When I got there, I was hooked up to fetal monitors within minutes.  They informed me that I had a medical condition called Pre-eclampisa.  The only cure is delivery.  The word “delivery” probably sent my blood pressure even higher.  I asked the nurse how long I had until delivery.  I was only 31 weeks!  She said it would probably be soon.  The tears then started coming.  Once again, my husband assured me everything would be ok. 

            I spent the next 15 days on bed rest at the hospital.  I was miserable!  They made me lay on my left side only.  I had fetal monitoring done every 3 hours, blood taken daily, constant medication, and I had to save my urine in a bin for testing.  My poor husband was taking the worst of it.  He had to listen to me complain. I called him at work just to cry.  Not only that, but he had to spend his time between work, me, and our pets at home.  He was worn out, and the baby wasn’t even here yet.  Never in my life did I think life could get harder, but it did.  My daily wheelchair ride was the joy of my day.  Other than that, I was completely miserable.  

            On January 27^th, I notified the nursing staff that I was seeing some black spots in my vision.  The next morning, a neurologist was immediately sent to see me and performed numerous tests.  He quickly assured me that it didn’t have anything to do with my brain.  Soon after, an ophthalmologist was sent to see me.  I didn’t get a good vibe from him.  He did some tests, and left quickly.  Within 2 hours nurses were in my room telling me that I was having an emergency c-section.  They said my blood pressure had gotten so high that I had a mini stroke.   On January 28, 2006 at 3:40 p.m. my daughter arrived.  I had made it to 34 weeks, but she was only 3 lbs, 11 oz.  She measured in at 15 ¼ inches tall.  She came out crying!  What a wonderful noise!  She was here, she was alive, but her battle was far from over.