Liz’s Birth Story, Part Two

If you read the first part of my birth story, you know that I had a fairly straight forward birth, up until I had a postpartum hemorrhage – you can read my birth story here.

After being treated for my hemorrhage, I had to stay one night at the hospital. By noon the next day all my vitals were normal and I was feeling great so I was discharged. We were so excited to go home and settle in with our little one.

© Monet Nicole

Harrison and I napped and breastfed all day. I have a very distinct memory of holding him after he had eaten a little, the last sweet memory I have before things turned into a chaotic whirlwind. He was looking directly in my eyes so calmly and his hands were clasped at his belly, and I thought I had never been so in love, so fully and unconditionally in love in my whole life before that moment. I burst into tears from joy and happiness, but also from wanting to protect him from the pain and horrors of the world and knowing that, sometimes, I wouldn’t be able to. I cried from wanting him to grow, be healthy and thrive but also from feeling the first twinges of deep pain in my gut, knowing one day he will grow up and leave to live his own life. I thought to myself, “this is what it feels like to be a mother.”

When I woke up later around 6pm from one of our naps, I felt terrible. I was exhausted, had shortness of breath, my heart was racing and I felt like I had fluid in my lungs. My first thought was I was feeling this way because of the blood loss, and that I needed to eat and drink some fluids. I also thought, “Maybe this is just how it feels right after having a baby?” Andrew made us a delicious meal that was high in iron. I felt a little better after eating, but not as great as earlier that day when I was discharged from the hospital.

© Monet Nicole

That night, I couldn’t lay flat or else I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and my heart was still racing. I called Baby+CO to see what they thought I should do. The midwife I spoke to told me that my symptoms could be a result of my blood loss. She told me if I felt worse to go to the ER, but the next day a Baby+CO nurse was coming over for our 48-hour postpartum visit, and she could also do an assessment. I decided to wait for our appointment with the nurse. I ended up sleeping propped up, since I couldn’t breathe laying flat.

Amanda, the lovely nurse who had held my hand while I pushed, arrived about 11am the next morning. After doing her various tests and assessments, she told me this was definitely not what I should feel after having a baby and she recommended I go to the ER. Andrew had to take Harrison to the pediatrician for his 48-hour weight check, so Amanda accompanied me to the ER. This was outside of her regular duties as a Baby+CO nurse, and I was so grateful she took the time to come with me to the hospital.

They admitted me right away, and started giving me fluids, thinking I was having these symptoms due to my blood loss. But after running tests, everything looked good – better, in fact, than when I was discharged the day before. I was in the ER for five hours, progressively getting worse. I felt like more fluid was in my lungs, I was coughing uncontrollably, I couldn’t breathe, I was hot and I missed my husband and baby. They had an oxygen mask on me that made me claustrophobic. Amanda stayed with me during the entire time I was in the ER. She helped me give my medical history to the nurses and doctors, held my hand, gave updates to my mother and sister who were out in the waiting room.  For hours, ER staff didn’t know what was wrong with me and kept doing various tests.

© Monet Nicole

Eventually a cardiologist was called, and they found something wrong with my heart. I was transferred to the cardiac ICU, and was told that I had mitral stenosis, which is a narrowing or calcification of my heart’s mitral valve. My heart couldn’t keep up with all the IV fluids that I was given when I was hemorrhaging; fluid was building up around my heart and in my lungs, which was why my heart was racing and I couldn’t breathe. Plus I was given more fluids when I arrived at the ER, which was making my symptoms worse. I was given Lasix to make me pee all the fluid out, and I almost immediately felt better.

At around 7pm I was finally reunited with my baby in the cardiac ICU. I hadn’t held him, breastfed or pumped since about noon. Baby+CO had given Andrew a prescription for donor milk, so Harrison had been fed, but I was worried about my own milk supply. I had been told that my milk may not come in, or if it did I would likely have a low supply because of my hemorrhage, so I was already worried. I was separated from my son during the time when I should have been doing constant skin-to-skin, breastfeeding and resting, so I was even more worried.

I was exhausted, sweaty, and starving. I had tubes and wires attached to me, and some family and friends in my room, but as soon as Andrew brought Harrison in the room I did skin-to-skin and I latched him to my breast. I just needed him on me.

© Monet Nicole

A doctor came to speak to me, and said that I needed a procedure to open my mitral valve, and that they recommended me being transferred to University Hospital, because they had a more advanced cardiac team, the best in Colorado. So I was separated from Harrison again, taken in an ambulance across town to the Anschutz Medical Campus. I didn’t want Harrison in the ICU being exposed to germs and viruses, so my parents and sister took Harrison home with donor milk, with instructions to feed him every two hours. What would I have done without my sweet family taking care of Harrison?

It seemed to take forever to process my transfer, schedule the ambulance and get admitted to the Cardiac ICU at UCH. By the time I was settled in and Andrew got to my room, it was around 11pm. Although I had breastfed a little at the first hospital, I wasn’t able to get a breast pump until the next morning, so I went almost the whole day, Harrison’s second day on earth, with minimal breastfeeding or pumping. I was starving – I hadn’t eaten since that morning – and my nurse went to hunt down a sandwich and salad for me. He wouldn’t let me eat past midnight, since he thought I was going into an early surgery the next day. After eating, I passed out while Andrew tried to get some sleep on the couch.

As I’m writing all of this down, I keep getting hung up on the regret I feel that I didn’t have Harrison in the ICU with me. Logically, Andrew and I were thinking we didn’t want Harrison to be exposed to hospital germs and viruses when he was so little; we were both exhausted from the birth and the emotional chaos of discovering my heart condition and surprise surgery, I was physically, emotionally and hormonally recovering from birth and functioning with 2/3 of my blood supply. We weren’t sure when my surgery would happen, we didn’t know we’d end up waiting most of the next day for me to be taken back to the OR. But I have a lot of guilt and regret that I didn’t hold him and nurse him in the hospital before my surgery. I feel like we made the wrong choice, that it was selfish somehow. That I made a mistake during the first crisis I had as a mother.

© Monet Nicole

The procedure they were going to do involved inserting a balloon into an artery in my groin, snaking it up to my heart, and then blowing it up, which would force open my mitral valve. I was expecting the surgery to happen early the day after I was admitted, so I figured I would have my surgery, then spend the rest of the day with the baby. But the surgery kept getting pushed back further and further. I did finally get a hospital breast pump, and a lovely Lactation Consultant helped me with pumping. I got quite a bit of colostrum, which the LC was excited about. It was a good sign. We kept all the colostrum I pumped in syringes that we gave my parents and sister for Harrison.

I was finally taken back for my surgery after 5pm. By the time I was done and back in my room it was 7pm, and I was groggy and wasn’t allowed to move for hours. My mom and sister had brought Harrison to my room, but I couldn’t hold him or touch him. When they finally decided to leave, they put his face close to mine so I could kiss him, but I just started weeping uncontrollably. I just wanted to hold him and snuggle him and I couldn’t. I felt helpless and like a terrible mother. Why hadn’t I held him up until my surgery? I know that mamas and babies are resilient, but if I could take back anything from that time, it would be not having him with me in my room before my procedure.

© Monet Nicole

The day after my surgery, I was exhausted and felt weak. I rested and ate, had some visitors. Towards the end of the day I was transferred from the ICU to a regular cardiac room. Andrew brought Harrison for a few hours, which was bliss. He took him home around 9pm because it was easier to take care of him there, and my dad spent the night with me in my hospital room. Andrew brought Harrison to the hospital the next morning and I was discharged later that day – it was such a relief to leave the hospital after four days! The air outside was cool and fresh, my sweet husband and baby were close to me, and we could finally get settled in at home.

At home, I breastfed, did skin-to-skin and continued to pump. But my milk supply would never be normal. My breastfeeding journey has had it’s own ups and downs and has been its own special soap opera, and of course, wasn’t at all what I was expecting. My breastfeeding story is to be continued…

A day or two after settling in at home, Monet Moutrie, my birth photographer came to our home to get some newborn pictures. I cherish how she captured these sweet moments. We all look exhausted, I still have adhesive all over my chest and hands from the hospital wires and tubes. But we are also happy and full of joy to have our sweet Harrison, mommy and daddy home for good.

© Monet Nicole