As the Doctor/nurse shift change was happening, I tried to mentally prepare for what was ahead - I would give birth to Baby B.
While I was tired, I had hope so much hope for our "Party Girl." We knew she would be bigger than her sister and I also knew that she was our super active baby! She was always doing cartwheels or practicing her Tae-kwon-do - something to remind me she was there. (As if my ever growing belly wasn't enough)
The new Doctors came in - Dr. Armstrong (a familiar face) and another Dr. (the head of the department?) introduced themselves and went over "the plan." The goal was to deliver Baby B and then start Delayed Interval Delivery. I think this was when they gave me the steroid shot for the babies' lungs. This wasn't going to take immediate effect, but we hoped that Baby C would hold off, and the steroids would help.
After a quick ultrasound to check on the babies, both still with strong heartbeats, then went to prepare for labor. They told me whenever I felt a contraction to begin pushing again.
I should've known that this child wouldn't enter the world without a little fight. Dr. Armstrong had to break her water (I knew it would have eventually, I think this may have helped speed up delivery...) and she was breech.
I kept pushing and pushing and pushing and felt like I was getting no where. Then, suddenly, the pressure and pain increased greatly. I remember Dr. Armstrong telling me she was close, and Andy confirming, but I was screaming in pain - truly afraid I wouldn't be able to go on.
I have never felt that immense pain before - I just wanted it to be over. Thankfully, one more push and she was out. Rachel Elizabeth was born at 8:40am.
I knew we wouldn't hear a cry (once again, something that made delivery so difficult. After you go through the pain of labor, parents are suppose to be greeted by the first cry of their child. A cry that says "Here I am! What is this bright, new world?" Not only were we missing out on that part of delivery, but now we had no idea what her chances of survival were.)
They whisked Rachel quickly to the room next door and I kept staring at that door waiting for the Neonatologist to come back. After experiencing Leah, I was waiting for bad news. With Leah, it was within minutes that the Neonatologist came back. So, after 5-10 minutes had passed, I started asking Dr. Armstrong what was going on. She told us she didn't know (I knew she didn't, she was with me the whole time!) but that someone would be in to update us soon - no news was good news, right?!
As Dr. Armstrong and nurses prepared me to go back to my L&D room (they were starting Magnesium in my IV to try and stop contractions, as well as a few different kinds of antibiotics...) someone finally poked their head from next door to say that Rachel was doing OK, they were still working on her, but Andy could go see her.
Andy went next door to see her (I don't think he could touch her yet...) and came back after a few minutes to show me a picture of her. She already looked different than her sister. She looked bigger, healthier, she looked like a survivor.
As they started moving me out of the OR, they told us that Rachel wasn't "out of the woods" but that they were taking her up to the NICU to continue working on her. While I didn't know exactly what this meant, I didn't know what they needed to do (I knew her lungs were under developed, so I assumed they needed to help her with her breathing...) I knew that the fact they were able to take her up to the NICU had to be a good sign. They said they would let Andy know when he was allowed to go visit.
The next few hours were a blur.
After we got adjusted back in our L&D room, the magnesium hit me. Nurses had warned me I would feel hot and it would probably last for 20-30 minutes. When that happened, I couldn't get cool. They got me a fan, but I felt like by the time the fan was starting to cool me down, the magnesium hot flash was starting to go away, of course, and I quickly got cold.
Like I said, things are sort of a blur, so I'll write what I remember, even if it wasn't the exact/correct order of events.
They continued monitoring contractions, which didn't seem to be slowing down. I was still in pain from Rachel's labor and the continuing contractions were not helping. While we all were hoping and praying that Baby C would wait, the nurse asked if I wanted an epidural just in case. I said I did.
I felt so weak when I asked for the epidural. For years I had been telling myself that I wanted to have a pain-free birth. My mother had done it, plenty of other women had done it, our bodies were created to do it, so I want to do it! But the pain of Leah and then Rachel was overwhelming. Between the lack of sleep and already going through so much emotionally, if I could get help with the physical pain, I needed it.
The Anesthesiologist came shortly and talked with us about an epidural - how it works, what are the risks, etc. He had me sign a form or two then said he would be back with everything.
When he came back, he said that it was a "sterile proceedure" and Andy wasn't allowed to be in the room while it happened. I believe this is when Andy was told he could go see Rachel in the NICU.
I was scared about getting an epidural. I don't know why - I had just given birth to two babies without any medication - but I feel like many people have talked about how painful it is. The most painful part for me was having to sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Everything from my ribs to my thighs was so so sore that any little bit of movement hurt. The nurse helped me and then she put her arms around me and told me to hold onto her so I could curl my back for the epidural. Not knowing how much it would hurt, I started singing in my head "I'm not gonna worry, I know that you've got me right inside the palm of your hand"...I sang that line over and over and over...I couldn't seem to move unto any other part of the song.
The epidural didn't hurt at all. The Dr. said it would take 20-30 minutes for it to kick in. The way he was checking to see if it was working is he would poke me with a either a needle or pin. He first poked my forehead and asked if that hurt/felt sharp - of course it did. Then he would start poking different parts of my leg. At that time, every poke he made felt as sharp as it did on my forehead. After 20-30 minutes had passed, it wasn't getting any better. The Dr. decided to give me more medicine and wait and see if that helped.
I believe it was during that time that a Neonatologist came and told us that Rachel wasn't going to make it. They said that they tried everything they could, but she was unable to breathe on her own. They were bringing her down to us.
When they brought Rachel to us, she was still on the ventilator, they were taking her off as soon as they were beside us, taking her out to hand to us.
Unlike her sister, she wasn't bruised and had a slightly more normal coloring. But she was still small and fragile.
Andy and I held, loved, cried, prayed and soaked in every moment with her.
We knew that nothing was going to bring her back, that she was being held by our Heavenly Father, arms much stronger than ours, but I didn't want to let her go.
She was perfect. Two eyes, two ears, a nose, a mouth, five fingers on each hand - and she already had tiny fingernails. I cried and cried and cried. And once again, watching Andy hold her was overwhelming.
After we spent our time with her, we said our goodbye.
The Doctors came back in to check on Baby C with an ultrasound. Unfortunately, it looked like he wanted to follow behind his sisters and be born today - he was lower and preparing to enter the world (and just like his sisters, was breech). The Doctors said we weren't in a hurry, but based on my continuing contractions, Baby C wasn't going to wait too long.
I remember crying to Andy I couldn't do it. My epidural wasn't working, I was still in so much pain, I couldn't bear to deliver another child. Like he had been doing all morning (and every day of our lives) he told me I could - we would get through this. He reminded me that our baby boy has been the biggest baby during all of our ultrasounds and he's never had any issues - he's going to be OK.
Trying to put aside the grieving of our baby girls, I went to focus on the hope of our baby boy.
The Anesthesiologist came back and said we would have to take the epidural out and put another one in. Once again, Andy had to leave the room, and I had to somehow manage to hold myself up and sit on the edge of the bed. But at least this time, I knew what the procedure would feel like. Still, to keep my breathing even (or as even as it could be) I continued singing "Steady My Heart."
Thankfully, this time it worked. Within 15 minutes, I couldn't feel much of anything below my armpits, which meant it was working a little too well (I should be able to feel above my belly button) so the Dr. adjusted the medicine a little bit.
There was some time during these hours, that I looked down at my stomach and it felt so small! With only our baby boy in there, it was so weird to look at and feel my stomach already smaller. I felt smaller, once again, weak, but still had so much hope for our baby.
I believe it was around this time that Pastor Jan came to visit. I don't know if Andy had texted her anything about how our morning had gone or whether she simply was coming to see us like she had been most days. As much as I didn't want to see ANYONE when the nurse first told us she was there, eventually I knew that Andy and I both needed to see her. We needed a little peace to get us through the rest of the day.
She didn't stay long. Long enough to cry with us and pray over us and all three of our babies.
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