The long road ahead...

In my last post, I said I wasn't sure if I would be returning to the blog world or not. It has been suggested to me (by "those in the know") that this may be a good, healthy outlet for me. We'll see... Right now, every day is a challenge, and each day is different. Yesterday I barely cried once. Today, I can't seem to stop crying. I am going to start by giving a re-cap of the last few days.

Wednesday February 3 2010 11:30am- Ultrasound time! We (Iris & I) went to the hospital for an ultrasound to check the amount of amniotic fluid that the baby had left. I had been in to the hospital the night prior after having reduced fetal movements on Tuesday. The ultrasound technician measured the fluid levels, and her heart was beating away at around 145 bpm. She was kind enough to give the ultrasound technician a full moon, leaving no doubt that we had a little girl on the way. They took measurements of her, and figured she weighed 8lbs 6oz already. They said that the prenatal clinic would like to see me, and I was excited, hoping that maybe our little girl would be here before her due date (because she was already so large). We went up to the prenatal clinic and they said that they would not be able to see us until the afternoon. At around 1pm, my little girl gave me a kick, and some little waves with her hands. I was so relieved to feel her move. At 2:30pm the doctor was finally able to see us. He tried to find her heart beat with the ultrasound and the Doppler, but no images came on the screen, and no sound came through the microphone. At 3:05pm, he and the ultrasound technician left the room, saying they would "be right back", I knew that she was gone.

The doctor returned to the room, and tried to find the right things to say. I just remember curling in a ball on the table, closing my eyes, and crying. Iris held my hand, cried with me, and tried desperately to get a hold of my husband. At some point they moved me to another room, where we would have privacy while we waited for my husband to arrive.

My hubby finally arrived and I watched his heart break as I told him. We both held each other and cried for what felt like hours. At some point we left the hospital and came home, called the families and tried to sleep. I laid in bed for an hour before getting up. I did not sleep at all, I stayed up on the couch, cried all night, wrote my last blog post, and sent e-mails.

Thursday February 4, 2010- We got a call from the specialist in Fredericton that she would like to see us. I was told that after my appointment with her, I would be going over to Labour and Delivery, and to pack a bag. Iris came over to the house and drove us down to Fredericton. I have never been so sad/upset and absolutely terrified in my entire life. We met my mother in law in the lobby of the hospital, then made our way up to the specialist's office. As we entered the wing where her office is located (which is on the Maternity ward), there was a cute little girl, with bouncing blond hair and pink pants, running down the hallway with her dad in front of us. We saw babies at every turn, I barely remember that walk since my vision was so blurred from the tears.

The specialist took a look with the ultrasound and revealed that our little girl's bowels were completely blocked. The specialist was crying as I asked if this was something we could have caught and maybe saved her life, if I had been seen two weeks ago. She performed an amniocentesis on me to run tests to see if in fact our little girl had Cystic Fibrosis, and to check for other possible chromosome abnormalities. We had to make a decision about an autopsy, and how I wanted to deliver. I originally wanted to go to sleep, have a c-section, and wake up when it was all over. I didn't think I wanted to hold her. The specialist then outlined the risks associated with a c-section in my case and encouraged me to endure a normal labour and delivery, and to hold my baby. I made the decision to go through the labour and delivery and signed all kinds of forms. The nurse then walked us down to labour and delivery at around noon.

The doctor finally came in around 4:30pm and inserted a gel to try and get my labour started. This was repeated 6 hours later, with no progress in labour at all. They gave me medicine to help me sleep through the night, and I woke up at 7am the next day. I had a dream that night, that I was holding Kherrington, and took this as a message from my little girl that she wanted mommy to hold her.

When I awoke on Friday February 5,2010, I woke to a new method to induce labour (tablets), a new doctor, but thankfully the same nurse I had the day before. The nurse I loved, she was very compassionate, and considerate of my concerns and wishes. The doctor was an A$$#@!&, and encouraged me to leave the hospital, go walk around, go shopping, go to the movies, anything to get out of the hospital. He didn't understand that I felt safe in my room, I wouldn't see babies (although I could hear them cry as they women in the rooms next to me delivered their babies), nor would I have perfect strangers ask me when I'm due. I prayed that this doctor would not be the one who delivered my baby, and I told my nurse this. It is interesting, because he was not the doctor who delivered my baby, and I wonder if my nurse said something to the night shift nurse. They gave me my third tablet that night, and by then I was experiencing "back labour". They gave me medicine (morphine) for pain and a sleeping pill to help me sleep and at around 1am I fell asleep.

I woke 1 hour later at 2am Saturday February 6th,2010, experiencing intense labour pains. The nurse checked me, and I was suddenly 2cm dilated. She put in an IV and gave me pain medicine via the IV. They moved me to an old Operating room suite down the hall, to complete the remainder of my labour and delivery. The reasoning was that there was more room, and privacy. I received an epidural at 5am and by 6am I was 10cm dilated but they let me drift in and out of sleep until 8am. At 8am, when a new doctor came on staff (he was going to be my Obstetrician), and a new nurse, they decided that I should start pushing.

I pushed for 2 1/2 hours and Kherrington was born at 10:32. The last half hour of pushing was the worst, mostly because I knew it was over, and I had to let her go. I remember feeling her being born, the doctor saying "you know it is a girl?", and at some point somebody told me she weighed 6lbs, 13ozs. Kherrington was born "still sleeping", they immediately took her out of the room, as the doctor finished what he needed to do. Before the doctor left the room, he silently came up, stood beside me and held my hand for a minute. He never spoke a word to me, at least none that I could hear, but he had tears in his eyes.

The nurse returned with our little angel. She was wrapped up in a blanket, and was wearing her hat that was given to her by her Auntie Iris. I'll never forget what it felt like as the nurse gently put her in my arms. There are times I can still feel that moment. Her tiny head resting in the crook of my elbow, how perfectly she "fit" against my body. My husband and I had time with her, we called for a Reverend to come. I don't remember how long we held on to her for, but the time came when we had to let her go.

We left the hospital and came home that night. We came home without a car seat in the back seat. We came home to a silent nursery, but not an empty home. Iris had left the hospital earlier in the day (after our angel was born), and she was at the house when we came home. To give us hugs, and to "tuck us in". On our kitchen table there was cards, books, chocolates, and a fruit basket that Iris had collected from people who had contacted her.

Our friend, my "sister", Iris, went through every minute of this with us. She was there throughout these dark days. From the first gel, to the last push. We realize we had two angels that day. Kherrington, and Iris. We are so lucky to have them both in our lives.