This morning I woke up thinking I am ready to tell our story of our son, Blake. In the beginning this was a very difficult thing for me to do, but as time passes it becomes a little less painful to tell.
My pregnancy with our son started off just like it did with our daughters. I was very nauseated and tired, however with the girls the nausea stopped at 3 months, with Blake it continued until about the 6 month mark. With my son I didn't feel his movements very often, I just thought that it was because I was carrying more prepregnancy weight this time and the extra 'insulation' made it difficult to feel. When I went to my doctor at about the 28 week mark she sent me for a non stress test to monitor our son because of the lack of movement I was feeling. When I went for the test the doctor on call said that his heartbeats looked great, but she sent me for a fetal assessment ultrasound just to be sure. I was so relieved when they said everything looked okay and that our son was fine.
A month later I went for one of my regular checks with my doctor and told her again that I rarely feel our son move. She said we need to monitor this and she told me that if I don't feel much movement then I was to go to the hospital to have a non stress test done a couple times a week. So the following week I went for one and I was told that our son's heartbeat was 'beautiful'. What a relief! A few days after this I was going back for another test, but that morning I felt our son roll over in my tummy, so I didn't go.
A few days later (the day after my birthday) I went in for another non stress test just to see how our little guy was doing. This was the moment everything came crashing down on us. The nurses that were doing the test were great. I could tell they were concerned with something, but they still remained calm around me. They insisted that the doctor on call see our son's heartbeat before they would let me go home. I waited about 3 hours before the doctor came to see me, he was very busy in the OR. When he came he saw the results and very gently said that he wanted to do an ultrasound just to see my little one. When he was doing the scan he said he was checking to see if my son's chest was moving. He said that he wasn't very good at doing these scans and wanted to have the fetal assessment specialist come in and look at my son. So they paged the physician and within an hour I was in the fetal assessment department with the doctor. The department had already closed for the day, so it was just the two of us. Once the machine warmed up the doctor started scanning and within 2 minutes he knew something was wrong and said to me, 'your baby is very sick'. I will NEVER forget those words. He told me I should call my husband to come in and be with me. He continued to scan for about an hour, trying to figure out what was wrong with our son. He said that he had a lot of fluid throughout his tissues, his skin, in his abdomen, and in his chest cavity. Because of this fluid his heart was having a hard time functioning and his lungs weren't developing properly. All of this fluid would explain my HUGE belly. You see I had what one of the doctors referred to as an 'ocean of amniotic fluid'. This is an indicator that something may be wrong, but when they did the last ultrasound (about 6 weeks earlier) I guess the levels were within the 'normal' range. Once my husband arrived the doctor said that our baby must be born that night or he would pass away in my womb in the next couple of days.
From this point on I was in shock, the rest of the night is somewhat of a blur for me. My baby was only about 35 weeks old and they were going to deliver him that night. I was very hopeful even though we were told that it was likely he had a heart defect (they couldn't really tell the extent of it) and that he would more than likely need surgery when he was born. They did paint a grim picture for us, but I still had hope that our son was going to be okay. Even once he was born I still didn't think that he was going to pass away.
I was transferred to another hospital because the hospital I was in was getting another sick baby coming to their NICU and they didn't have enough staff to care for two very sick babies. My husband and I drove to the next hospital, it was the longest drive I have ever taken. When we got there I had to retell my story while they waited for my chart to be faxed over to them. Within an hour I was in the OR waiting for our son to be born.
My mom was in town visiting at our house during this time, so she was home with the girls while we were at the hospital. I remember phoning her when we left the one hospital and she asked if she should come with us. I said that I didn't think it was necessary because once he was born they would be doing tests and stuff so she probably wouldn't be able to see him that night. Oh how I wish I hadn't said that. I wish I told my mom she could come to the hospital with us. Because of this my mom did not get to see her grandson for the short time he was alive. This is one of many of my regrets.
When your baby is born the first thing you look forward to hearing is their cry. The louder the better! We didn't hear our son cry, there was silence as they whisked him away. They took him across the hall to what I believe is called the resuscitation room. They put tubes in his chest to drain the fluid, they put a breathing tube down his throat to help him breath, and performed CPR on him. They had a hard time inserting the tube for him to breath because of all the swelling, so we don't know how long he was deprived of oxygen. While they were trying to stabilize him they called my husband in to be with him. He stroked his arm and talked to him while they worked on saving our son. My husband told me that it was like being on a roller coaster because one minute he was not responding very well and then the next his heart would get stronger and there was hope he was going to make it. They tried for about an hour to stabilize him, but he was just too sick. The doctors turned to my husband and explained that he was deprived of oxygen and that little air bubbles had more than likely made it to his brain which meant he would have severe brain damage. With about six staff members staring at my husband they asked his permission for them to stop. It was the hardest decision my husband has ever had to make in his life. It haunts him to this day and always will. At this point they wheeled me in to see our son, they removed the breathing tube and gave him to me to hold. I held our son while he took his last breath and his heart beat for the very last time.
I will share with you the rest of our journey in subsequent posts.
