Zuri's Story: Part 2

If you want to catch up on the first part of the story, you can find it here.

After a whirlwind of a weekend between receiving the news about there being no amniotic fluid, Derek's premiere, and transferring to a different hospital we were desperate for some good news.

On Monday, February 10th, we met with a different perinatologist at the new hospital. She was straight forward but still gentle in how she handled telling us what she saw on the sonogram.

There was still no amniotic fluid. The baby's bladder appeared to have a small amount a fluid in it (a good sign since new amniotic fluid is made whenever the baby pees), but the doctor didn't want us to get false hope that fluid in the bladder meant that everything was fine. As we'd heard from the perinatologist at the first hospital, there were a lot of potential problems with our situation. Higher risk for preterm labor, high risk that the baby wouldn't survive, chances of the baby having neurological disorders, etc. When we asked why my water had broken she explained that the bleeding I had been experiencing from the subchorionic hemorrhaging caused the amniotic sac to weaken, which is what caused my water to break early.

She told us that the best case scenario was for me to get to 23 weeks and then receive a treatment of steroids. The steroids would help support the baby's lung function, should I deliver soon after the 23 week mark. The plan at that point was for me to stay in the hospital until the antibiotic course was over (48 hours) and then I'd go home and remain on bed rest until about 23 and 1/2 weeks; at that point we would go back to the hospital for the steroid treatment, and then I'd remain on hospital bed rest until the baby was born.

After talking with the perinatologist for a while, we waited in her office for a hospital worker to take me back to my room. Derek and I talked about what we were up against. The chances of preterm labor were high, and even if I made it farther along there was a chance that our baby would have struggles beyond the guaranteed NICU stay. We talked about how we felt about having to care for a child that might have disabilities. We talked about how much we didn't want to deal with all of this.

When we got back to our room, Derek and I talked some more. No matter how we tried to make sense of things, we realized that we had to let go. We had to surrender ourselves, our circumstances, and yes, our baby to God. We had to relinquish any sense of control and let His plan take place. We had to rest our hope in Him.

And then we wept together. We prayed and cried out to the Lord. We laid everything at the feet of God and let Him know what we hoped for, but that we wanted His will the most. Derek and I agreed that we didn't want our baby to suffer; if trying to save our baby was going to cause pain, we wanted God to call our little one home peacefully. It was so hard. Being that vulnerable, even with God, is plain scary.

A couple from our church, Meghan and Dave, stopped by. Meghan came in and talked with me for a bit and it was so encouraging just to see her. Meghan and Dave have been a huge blessing to our family, and in that moment it was just nice to have some sweet company. My mom came and had Toby with her. She and Meghan prayed with me while Toby snuggled in my lap. After Meghan left we just hung out for the rest of the day.

In the afternoon I was moved upstairs to a long-term care room. Derek's parents came and visited for a while. Eventually everyone left. My mom went home, Derek went to dinner with his parents and Toby. It was the first time in a while that I had some time to myself; it was really strange. I watched tv, stared out the window. Dinner was brought, but it didn't look that appetizing (the only meal in that hospital that I didn't eat; everything else was absolutely delicious!). I called Derek and asked if he would bring me something before heading home for the night.

Derek returned with dinner for me. We talked and watched tv. I started feeling some mild contractions, but after a while they got stronger and I had to actually breath through them. A nurse came in and suggested that I use the bathroom, drink a ton of water and keep lying down on my left side and wait to see if the contractions stopped. I followed her instructions and waited. The contractions weren't stopping. I asked Derek to call my mom and let her know what was going on; she said she'd come be with us. Derek also called his parents and asked them to pray. Derek prayed over me and read from Psalms. I tried to keep my body relaxed and breathed slowly through each contraction, hoping and praying with each one that it was the last. The nurse came back and when I told her the contractions weren't stopping she said they were going to move us back down to labor and delivery. Derek and I had no idea what was going to happen the rest of the night, but somehow we were able to stay calm. We had already surrendered everything to God, it was His plan that we were following.

Shortly after we got settled back in labor and delivery my mom and dad arrived, then Derek's dad. We kept the lights dim, Derek turned on some calming music. Everyone was praying; my mom rubbed lavender oil on my belly. Eventually the contractions started to space out and get less painful, I was getting sleepy and feeling like we might be ok. Our parents left as I drifted off to sleep.

Around midnight the nurse came in for something (I can't remember what, probably something to do with my IV). I woke up and all of a sudden I couldn't breathe. I started coughing and gasping for air. It was the strangest thing. I've never had any respiratory issues in my life, and the entire time I was in the hospital my lungs sounded great. This was out of the blue and super scary. I kept trying to breathe but it was like I couldn't catch my breath. Derek held my hand and encouraged me to relax my body; he was thinking it was a panic attack, probably from all the stress from the past few days. The nurse put an oxygen mask on me and it helped a lot. Eventually, slowly, with Derek's calming words and prayer over me I was able to take the mask off and breathe on my own.

However, because of the stress from not being able to breathe my body tensed up and the contractions started all over again. Not being able to breathe and experiencing contractions is an frightening combination. Derek turned the calming music back on, waved the lavender oil under my nose and just kept praying for me. The contractions stopped, and we went back to sleep.

The next day we were exhausted but ready to face the day. I experienced a few contractions, but nothing alarming. Derek had planned to go in to work that day, but he didn't get there until late and instead was told he should just take the day off. He called me to say he was going home to shower and rest, but instead he did the sweetest thing ever: in anticipation of my being released from the hospital the next day, he cleaned the whole house.

Later Derek came back to the hospital. My aunt came to visit. It was nice to hang out with my mom, aunt, and Derek. It helped to feel less like a patient. Derek had brought some things from home for me, and I was able to take a shower, a very welcome commodity. My mom had done some research and had brought some magnesium oil; it helps prevent premature contractions. She slathered me in magnesium oil, lit some lavender candles, and dimmed the lights. One of the nurses commented that it was like a spa in our room.

My aunt and my mom went home, and Derek and I tried to get some sleep. We were a little concerned about the next step in the process- going home until we reached 23 weeks- but the idea of being home sounded so good, I couldn't wait to be back where everything was familiar.