The nurses came and got my Pitocin started at 2pm and we
settled in to what would be our home for next 36 hours. I remember feeling numb
and like I had failed. I was embarrassed. I thought failure and embarrassment
were odd emotions to be feeling when your baby dies. I felt embarrassed to have
to start telling people that Cora didn’t make it. I felt like I let everyone
down. I was embarrassed to let myself think we had made it, that we would meet
her alive. I failed her. If only I had gone in the day before when I was so
worried. I knew it. I knew this was going to happen. It’s weird how so much can
change in an instant. The world that I thought I would have, hoped I would have
was obliterated. I had hoped to be among the lucky few to bring her home for a
little while. I felt betrayed by the support groups I had participated in over
the past few months. They gave me too much hope. For as much as we tried to
prepare ourselves, we were still blindsided.
I called my mom, our Angel Watch counselor, Carolyn and our
photographer, Brooke. Michael called his parents and asked them to spread the
news to family so we didn’t have to say it over and over, Cora had died. She
died. It didn’t seem real. I was deeply hurt and grieving my baby but all my
focus shifted immediately to Elena. I was terrified something was going to
happen to her. The residents and nurses came back in to check everything out.
Twins are delivered in the O.R. to be ready for any complications. On an O.R.
table, not in a
uncomfortable regular L&D bed. If you’ve been on or
seen an O.R. table you might wonder how that is even possible without falling
off! I asked if it were possible, now that Cora was gone and Elena would exit
first, if I could stay in my room to deliver. They said yes and I’m pretty sure
that change made a world of difference.
My contractions started, so the monitor said. I wasn’t
really feeling much yet. They came to check me (ouch!) after a few hours on the
pit and I was excited to hear about the progress. “Your at a one!”. I guess I
was supposed to be happy about that? Going from a fingertip to a one is
progress, right? This would start the pattern of checking every four hours and
only going up a half a centimeter each time, if that. I was certain after being
checked a couple of times that it would all end in a c-section. I prayed so
hard to avoid that but feeling extremely bitter at the time, I felt I wasn’t
going to get what I prayed for. I remember feeling like a spoiled child and
actually telling Michael I never get what I pray for, when it really matters.
So I was completely prepared for a c-section.
I was having to get up every 30 minutes or less to pee
because they had pumped me so full of fluid, suspecting I was dehydrated. My
heart rate had been elevated from the moment I had been admitted. Thus began
the dance of the beeping monitors and trying to relax enough to make it come
back down. Around 10pm, I was only at 1+. Ugh. They kept asking me if I needed
my epidural and I kept refusing. I still wasn’t feeling much. Then, they came
in and told me they were going to insert a balloon catheter into my cervix and
manually dilate it. I asked for my epidural at that point. I didn’t feel like I
needed to feel any of that. The cervical checks were enough for me. My cervix
is very posterior and high so I’m pretty sure it hurts me extra when I get
checked, especially by a family practice resident who, bless his heart, was not
sure which way was up.
The anesthesiologist came in and did her thing with no
complications. Suddenly, I felt great. I really had no idea how uncomfortable I
was until I wasn’t. I was trying to get comfortable in the bed and it just
wasn’t happening but attributed it what I had been dealing with the last three
months. I was hugely pregnant with twins and comfortable was something I hadn’t
been in a long time. I got myself comfy and pretty much slept the whole night
with few interruptions. I woke up to the nurse and doctor coming to check the
progress the balloon was making. They said it usually will dilate to a four in
four hours. After four hours I was a two. Boo. They said they would leave it in
for another four hours and check again. I was even more convinced that a section
was in my future. They said progress was progress and as long as Elena was
tolerating it, they’d let me keep going. They also said I could just cut my
losses and do the c-section any time. I said they would not be hearing those
words from me. Fast forward another eight hours and little progress and I was
seriously thinking of calling it but didn’t because I was not feeling the
contractions. I was just mostly tired of laying in the bed and I was hungry! I
couldn’t eat after I had the epidural (which is another reason why I didn’t
want it so early) and I had enough illegally obtained jello. They finally
realized it would still be a while and snuck me a very dry turkey sandwich.
Nothing ever tasted so good. My energy was low and my anxiety was high but I
just had to think about what cutting me open meant and I continued.
After 12 hours, no matter how dilated the balloon made me,
they had to remove it for risk of infection. After 12 hours they checked me
again and I was a 2-2.5+ centimeters. Sigh. They removed the balloon and
decided Elena was low enough to safely break my water. My feeling all along was
once my water broke, things would start moving (hopefully). They broke my water
and went back and forth about whether or not it was meconium stained. They decided
it wasn’t but I suspect that maybe it was because of how compromised she was at
birth. It was about 11pm now and I tried to sleep thinking it would still be a
long time before we saw any babies. My family had just left after playing games
and waiting and Brooke, my sweet, sweet photographer was in the waiting room. I
felt terrible because it was such a long time for her.
I tried to sleep but when my family was there, I noticed my
epidural wearing off of one side. My right leg became un-numb and I started
feeling the contractions in one spot on my belly and I was starting to really
hurt. The anesthesiologist came in to re-dose my epidural and I immediately
started to feel nauseous and light headed. The nurse checked my blood pressure
and it tanked to70s/30s (epidurals will do that). She called the doctor back in
to get my blood pressure back up and I immediately felt better. I closed my
eyes to try to get some more sleep. No go. My epidural medicine ran out and the
doctor was stuck in an emergency c-section so it couldn’t be replaced right
away. I started feeling a ton of pressure. Every contraction was more intense
and I was dying for the doctor to come back in and get that epidural started
again. I was gripping the side of the bed and Michael was talking me through
the contractions, letting me know when the worst is over. After a while, not
wanting to be a pain, I called the nurse again and asked her if the
anesthesiologist was available yet because I was really feeling tons of
pressure. She told me that epidurals don’t numb pressure, just the
contractions. I had no idea I wasn’t feeling the contractions. She wanted to
check me after that and I was dilated to 4 centimeters. It had only been a
couples of hours since they broke my water and I dilated like I was supposed to!
I felt like superwoman! Finally, some real progress. The pressure continued and
I expected to dilate a centimeter an hour from then on so I knew it could have
been another 6 hours but I was finally seeing the light. There was an end to
this after all. The final hours got really intense but I didn’t feel like it
was anything I couldn’t handle.
One of the residents came in an hour after that and it was
about 1am-ish. He asked how I was feeling and I told him about the intense
pressure. He said he wanted to check me and the nurse told him she had just
checked me an hour before and was at a four. He still wanted to check me. He
checked me and raised his eyebrows and said “wow, you’re complete!”. I was
shocked! Four to ten centimeters in one hour! I knew all they had to do was
break my water! They asked me if I wanted to start pushing but I just wanted to
let her come down more. She was still a little high and I wasn’t feeling any
urge to push. After about half an hour the resident came back in wanted to do
some trial pushing to see if she would come down more. I gave one good push and
she came right down so we got ready to deliver her.
I was preparing myself for a lengthy marathon pushing
session. My sister pushed with her first for about two hours. I suddenly had visions
of it being 5 am before they were out. I had never done this before so I had no
idea what to expect. Someone offered me and mirror, something I had not thought
about until my super cute photographer told me how having a mirror when she was
super numb really helped her see where she needed to push. It was exactly that.
I could focus all my energy on one spot because I could see it. I gave one big
push and Elena’s head was playing gopher. I suddenly regretted not working out
while I was pregnant because I was already tired. I then thought about my
sister again and wondered how I was going to push like this for an hour or
more. Another contraction was coming and the nurse told me to push like I was
pushing her into the floor. She was a little caught up under my pubic bone. The
visualization really helped and she was moved passed the hang up. One more
contraction and one good push and Miss Elena Kate was born at 1:58am.
They laid her little (or big!) 6lb 12oz body on my chest.
She was beautiful and we marveled how much like Sam, she looked. She was so
much bigger than we thought she would be! I was grateful, although size does
not equal maturity as we would find out in a minute. I held Elena on my chest
and they prepared me to start pushing for Cora. I did not have mirror and I was
told that was good thing. Cora who was previously head down, had flipped when
Elena was delivered. Apparently, the doctor was up to her elbow inside of me
trying to guide Cora’s little body out with doing as little damage as possible
to her. Still holding Elena, they told me to give one little push and then to
STOP! Her little legs were out and they were still doing their best to deliver
unharmed. The skin of a stillborn is very fragile and the slightest friction
can tear it very easily. I looked up at Michael and asked him if she was out
yet. He nodded that she was almost here and I started to tear up. This was the
moment I was so looking forward to and so dreading at the same time. They told
me to give one more push and she was out. Cora was born at 2:06am. They laid her on my chest and I was
instantly in love. I was holding my girls, together, for the first and last
time. I was expecting to be a bawling mess but I was filled with what I can
only describe as supernatural peace. My heart was full of so much love and I
instantly knew we were not alone. It felt like there were so many people in
that room when looking back, there were very few. Michael and I both have said
that to us, it felt like she was born alive. She was so present in that room
and I will never forget that feeling.
Cora was so beautiful that I still had a hard time believing
her tiny body was broken. She looked so much like Elena and I instantly
wondered, if she were to live, how alike or different they would have become. She
had a very slight club foot that you might not have even noticed if you didn’t know
it was there. I remember trying breathe everything in because I knew I may not
get to hold them together again.
Elena was on my chest and she started to sing. On the
dreaded humming of a newborn. It’s very cute but as a nurse, I knew this was
not good. Parents will tell me their newborns are so cute and all the do is hum
and sing. This is not normal and indicates respiratory distress. I handed her
over quickly but my heart broke having to split them up so quickly. I thought
they would recover her quickly and give back in a minute but they told me they
needed to take her to the nursery. It was exactly what happened when Sam was
born so I wasn’t worried. My babies need those last few weeks for their lungs
to mature and I immediately felt guilty for having her delivered early but
looking back, it was the right thing to do and it was supposed to be that way.
Michael and I laid with Cora and examined every inch of her.
She was so tiny…3lb. 7oz…but so perfect. She had big lips like her sister, lots
of hair, and the most precious hands you have ever seen. I miss her hands the
most and kissed them about a thousand times that day. She was my baby, my
daughter and I already missed her. How I wish I could hold her just one last
time. I get sad because the more time goes on, the less I remember how she felt
in my arms and I knew it would eventually be like that so I was trying imprint
her to my mind. I was already panicking because I was afraid of forgetting her.
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36 hours of labor=one tired mama |
Michael went with Elena to the nursery so it was just me and
Cora for a moment. I asked the aid to go get my mom and have her come in. I
would have let more people in but I was spread eagle, getting sewn up so that
was not happening. She came in with a tear in her eye and I introduced her to
Cora. My sweet photographer, Brooke, reminded me of something I had said when
my mom came in.
“I couldn’t be sad if
I wanted to be. We all know what we wanted but His plan was better.”
What faith that girl had! I wish I could say I have always
felt that way since they were born. I have dealt with normal feelings of grief
and at some pit stops on this beautiful and awful journey, I have been angry.
Angry with God because I had so much faith that he could allow her to be born
alive. I had so much faith that He could have healed her and made her whole if
He wanted to but we never asked for that. We just asked Him for a little time.
Time to see her eyes full of life. To hear her sweet, little cry. To feel her
warm skin. To have her sister feel her near. She never even saw my face. She
never saw the mother that loved her and kept her warm and safe. She never saw
the face that belonged to the voice that would sing to her and sister, You are My Sunshine. She never put a
face to the beating heart that is forever broken because she couldn’t stay. But
I still know, His plan was better. He knows us so much better than we know
ourselves and I know there is a very good reason she passed away the day before
she was to be born.
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Taking Elena away.... |
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Kissing Elena goodbye... |
I
got cleaned up and ready to move to my maternity room. I decided
it was a good time for them to take Cora and clean her up and get
footprints,
hand molds, etc. I hated being separated from her but my photographer
was able
to capture the sweetest pictures of her then. I cannot say enough about
Brooke
and how much it means to us that she was there. They had a hard time
getting
someone from Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep to come right away and by the
time they
got there that afternoon, Cora didn’t look as good as she did when she
was
first born. The hospital usually takes pictures too but they couldn’t
find the
camera and I was told Brooke was simply amazing directing exactly how
things at
that point should go and she captured pictures that we will treasure for
the
rest of our lives. Some people get really uncomfortable with pictures of
babies that have already passed. If you are one of them, read no
further. Pictures are all we have left of her and they remind us that
she lived and they remind us that we will see her again. This separation
is temporary and she is waiting for us, lucky girl.
As I was getting ready to move, a doctor introduced herself
as a neonatologist from the NICU and I might have said a swear word in my head.
Elena was in the NICU. Dang. I don’t remember a thing she told me but I do
remember thinking, okay, she’ll need a
little CPAP and then she’ll be back with us in a couple of hours. I was so
wrong. They wheeled me down to the NICU to see Elena before taking me to my
room. My heart broke when I saw her. She was on CPAP and had an I.V. already.
She looked so fragile, I was almost afraid to touch her. It’s a different world
when it’s your own child because I have obviously seen hundreds of babies in
this condition and have not worried at all. Suddenly, I was worried about how
she was going to come out of this. I was assured she was the biggest,
healthiest baby in the NICU! I still have feelings of guilt because seeing her
for the first time in the NICU, I almost felt like I didn’t know her. It’s hard
for me to admit but I had been so worried about Cora the whole pregnancy that I
didn’t get a chance to really know Elena very well. Inside, I was panicking
that something awful was going to happen to her and that I wasted all the time,
“not worried about her”. I did worry during the pregnancy that something would
be wrong with her that we couldn’t see on ultrasound. I loved her fiercely but needed more time
with her to get to know her and I was terrified I might not get that.
We left the NICU, still thinking I would see Elena in a couple
of hours, and went to my room to be with Cora again.
To be continued…
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I love you, Cora.
*I want to mention that the way I wrote this, it sounds like my labor was only about 12 hours. I left out sleeping most of the night before (thank goodness) after I got my epidural, visitors and more sleeping the whole next day and then things got moving the in the early hours on the 29th. My doctor predicted it would have been somewhere around 4am on the 28th when it actually was 2am on the 29th. So, 36 hours of labor but honestly, I was comfortable for most of it except the final hours. I would do it again a thousand times over. And, because it took so long, my awesome doctor was not able to be there and all three of us were devastated by that. He was amazing and came to Cora's funeral.
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