I discovered I was pregnant on March 17, 2005. It was a bit of a surprise, but we were thrilled. I was always one that wanted children so badly that I feared I wouldn't be able to have them. After reading many blogs, I really realize how lucky we are to have gotten pregnant so easily.
My mom cried when I told her, my dad smiled from ear to ear. This was to be the first grandchild on both sides.
I had a pretty uneventful pregnancy for the first several months. I didn't have much morning sickness, but I was constantly exhausted and my tummy was queasy. For the first trimester we were still living with Ben's parents (remember, knocked-up and no place to live) and it was actually a blessing. I would sleep from 7-7 and have to DRAG myself out of bed. I had found a job by this point, but I hated it. More on that later. There were many days that I would come home, eat some soup and go to bed. I remember wondering how I was going to do this with a young child when we were ready to have another. But magically in my 14th week I started to feel better. I didn't gain much weight, I actually loved being pregnant.
When baby Jude died, I was 29 weeks and 5 days pregnant. We buried him on a Monday and I had a check-up that Tuesday. It was the first time my blood pressure was elevated. I told my doctor what I had been through that weekend, and she said it would probably go down, but I should rest as much as I could. Being a naive first-time mom, I didn't really think much of it. The next week my BP was still elevated, so she got stern with me. So I listened a little better. By 33 weeks I was on modified bedrest, meaning I could go to work, but that was it. By 34 weeks, I was on full bedrest, stuck at home and off my feet. I was constantly at the doctor getting tests run, having multiple ultrasounds and non-stress tests.
On October 28, it was a Friday, I headed back in to the doctor for another appointment. I was told I would have to see one of the associates, because my doctor had a death in the family. I didn't think much of it at the time, thinking it was a grandmother or something. Not to undermind the loss of a grandmother, but you will see what I mean. When I got to the back, I realized there was something else going on. There was a lot of sadness and tension in the air, I could sense it. I saw another doctor and asked how Dr. P was doing. The response was "It's going to be very difficult, but she has a lot of great family and friends to get her through this". Uh, oh. That's not what you say when someone loses a grandmother. I quickly forgot about that when she announced that my BP was too high and she wasn't comfortable with it. They usually made me lay on my left side for 15 minutes and would take my BP again, and if it went down, that meant I was ok as long as I stayed off my feet. Not this time, it didn't go down. It was 161/111. I'm not sure how bad that really is, but I had to go to the hospital. It was around noon on Friday.
So off I went, crying the entire time. I called my hubby, who left work and came to the hospital. I was under the impression that it would just be overnight, so I resigned myself to a long night with the hope of going home in the morning and continuing the rest of my pregnancy. Later that afternoon I met the doctor on call for the weekend. It was a MAN. Up until this moment, I had only been seen by female ob/gyn's. My thought was that this man was crazy if he thought he was getting anywhere near my vajayjay. Freak, pervert. What kind of man chooses this as a profession anyway? Ew. But to my surprise, I LOVED him. I never felt uncomfortable for one single second. His bedside manner was teriffic. He checked me and then broke the news that I would probably be spending the remainder of my pregnancy in the hospital. I was 35 weeks and 5 days. I cried like a baby. But even then I thought I would be pregnant for a while and Dr. P would be back in enough time to deliver me.
I didn't sleep well at all that night. Poor hubby had to sleep on the hard hospital couch. It was just not a good night. The next morning my parents and sister came by and I learned quickly that it was going to drive my crazy, having them all there all the time. I finally convinced them, hubby included, that I would be fine by myself. It was a beautiful October day and they should enjoy it. Hubby had tickets to the LSU game that night and I convinced him that he needed to go. I was just going to be laying in the hospital watching tv. My wonderful mother and sister went to our house to clean, it was a wreck. They finished the baby's room, while hubby washed the cars and did some outside work. I settled in and ate breakfast and looked forward to a shower and a nice long nap. I was even going to ask for something to help me sleep. I went for an ultrasound and learned that my fluid level was low, and they estimated that the baby was 5.5 pounds, had lots of hair and long legs. I got back to my room and was heading to the shower when Dr. L came in. He said due to my low fluid and high BP, it wasn't safe to keep me pregnant any longer. My kidneys and liver were starting to feel the effects for it all, so it was time for this baby to come out. I was stunned. I didn't believe him, I even reminded him that I wasn't due for another 4 weeks. But he was worried about me having a seizure. He told me that I had 12 hours to get this baby out and that was it. I would not be pregnant tomorrow. I started freaking out and calling the troops. He wouldn't even let me shower. They wheeled me to labor and delivery, the entire time I was sobbing.
Around noon they hooked me up to Magnesium Sulfate, which is used to control high BP. I didn't know that they also give Mag to women in pre-term labor. I was fighting an uphill battle. They started pitocin and off we went. Broke my water around 5:30 and I was a wopping 1 cm dialated. Still naive, we kept going. Around 9:30 he warned me that things weren't happening as fast as he would like and he needed to see some dramatic change soon or I would end up in the OR. At 10:55 he checked me and I was......1.5 cm dialated. So he called for an emergency c-section and the roller coaster ride began. I was freaked out. I did the only thing I could think of and called Jennie. Jude had only passed away a few weeks before, but she was the only one I knew who had a c-section. She tried her best to comfort me and make me feel better about the entire situation.
Allie was born at 11:09 pm, on a Saturday night, October 29th. She came out screaming and was so tiny. Just as they guessed, exactly 5 1/2 pounds. She had a lot of hair, but they so wrong about the long legs thing. She was only 18 inches long and to this day is still a shrimp.
Allie's baptism, 3 weeks old
The picture we used for her announcement, 3 days old