Need to get this off my brain before her big day tomorrow. The story of Mallory (A not-so-short novel): There is no such thing as a perfect, non-stressful pregnancy once you’ve suffered a loss. After the twins we didn’t know if we would try again, if we could handle more heartbreak. But Daniel was desperate for a sibling. Completely obsessed. This boy deserved a sibling if any kid ever did, I just didn’t know how we would all cope, especially Daniel, if we lost another baby. After many medical tests and lots of prayer we decided to wait for my body and emotions to heal and then try again. The positive test was exciting and completely nerve wracking. We had several appointments with my doctors and only a few weeks in, it was determined that the pregnancy was actually a blighted ovum. Your body thinks and acts like it’s pregnant, the womb develops and the egg is fertilized, but an embryo never develops. There’s no baby. We miscarried on a Friday in the middle of the night. No one knew. Not about the pregnancy or the miscarriage. Family and friends had already gone through so much heartache with us that I couldn’t be the one to hurt them again. I was teaching a two year old Sunday School class every other week at the time and I just couldn’t do it anymore. They were precious and I was sad. I told Stephen it was God’s way of telling us to appreciate what we have and quit being so stingy. But I couldn’t convince my heart of that and I kept feeling like we should give it one more try. Just one. After all, this wasn’t a healthy pregnancy that we lost. And Daniel. Daniel still wanted and needed that sibling. Plus he had no idea about the miscarriage. The next positive pregnancy test was even more nerve wracking, if you can believe it. The first few appointments with my doctors showed a heartbeat, but blood tests revealed I had very low progesterone levels. You need progesterone to sustain a healthy pregnancy. They tested it again every week for 2-3 weeks and it would be the same or worse. I questioned them about what we could do to increase it and was basically told that “it is what it is” and the pregnancy would either make it or it wouldn’t. Panic. I had told them this was it. Like IT, it. No more trying. Why are they acting like it doesn’t matter? I immediately spoke to my dear friend and OB nurse, Courtney, at a different office and she lovingly scolded me and those other doctors. “We would have put you on medicine immediately! It may not work, but why not try everything you can and see!” I told Stephen that I needed to change doctors, that I needed to see someone who really understood what we were going through. I met with my new doctor, Courtney’s boss, right away. She knew our story. In fact, everyone in their office did because Courtney had been heartbroken right along with us when we lost Michael and Ashley. She cried with us, listened to Daniel’s “speech” at their funeral, and watched as we buried them. So yeah, they all knew. I felt immediately as though they were going to do everything humanly possible to save this pregnancy. I felt like this baby already mattered to them. I was put on medication that day and monitored very, very closely. The medicine was no picnic, but it was working. Not exactly the numbers we wanted, but they were going up and the baby was still ok. The time between each visit felt like an eternity, and my doctor was amazing at being patient with me and my endless questions. One of which, “When will I ever relax and just enjoy the pregnancy?” was answered with a lovingly honest “You won’t.” Yep, she got it. And she didn’t make me feel crazy for worrying. Why wouldn’t I worry – look what I had been through. Slowly but surely each visit and every ultrasound looked good. Healthy baby! One thing they weren’t able to see for sure, though, was the umbilical cord and where it was implanted in the placenta. Off to the perinatologist we go. He confirms that it’s a slightly velamentous cord insertion. It wasn’t the extremely dangerous kind, but it wasn’t normal. Seriously?? I’m trying to focus on God and the lesson in all of this but I’m just not seeing it. I was on strict orders not to travel too far away from base camp, aka Kennestone Hospital. Difficult since Daniel was playing AllStar baseball and his tournaments took him everywhere from Chattanooga to Mississippi. So home I stayed. Praying. Hoping. And praying some more. I was now focused on what the safest way to deliver this baby would be. It was still months away, but I couldn’t help it. My doctor was again ridiculously patient with me and told me that we would do whatever made me comfortable and she was on board with whatever I decided. Love her. I woke up on a Tuesday morning feeling great. “D’Lisa is having her baby today!”, I told Stephen. “I’m so excited for them!!” Not long before I had to go get Daniel at the bus stop, I started feeling weird. Not bad, and no pain. Believe me, I would’ve headed straight to the doctor with any pain! My doctor and Courtney are off on Tuesdays, so I called and texted Courtney as I had done a million times over the last few months. Initially things sounded ok to her. “Drink LOTS of water and rest on your left side for a while.” “Do kick counts and let me know if anything is off.” Etcetera. I never was hurting, but something wasn’t right. I just knew it. She had me call the office and let the doctor on call know, and I was told to come up to the hospital to be monitored as a precaution. Stephen was on his way home, and my friend Lorelle was coming to pick up Daniel so he could still get to his game that night if we weren’t home in time. It’s nothing, so we’ll be back soon. HA! I get out of bed to help get Daniel’s things together and I realize I’m bleeding. The wash of panic and fear in that moment I can’t even properly describe. I told Stephen and Lorelle that they needed to get here FAST. I sent Courtney a text and told her to let the doctor on call know. Meanwhile, I was trying to be cool and calm on the outside so I didn’t worry Daniel. I don’t know how either of them got here so quickly, but Lorelle was in the house pulling Daniel’s things together before I knew it, and Stephen was at the door saying “LET’S GO. LET’S GO. COME ON. LET’S GO.” In one of the dumbest, worst moments I’ve had as a mom, I tell Daniel “Good luck at your game, Bud! Do your best.” I didn’t tell him how much I loved him or hug him endlessly. Stupid. Stephen and I had made a panicked trip to the hospital before when my water broke with the twins. This was different. This was blood, and this was our last hope baby. We sped, ran red lights, and broke every traffic law between here and there. Who cares. We parked in a tow away zone and breathlessly gave the L&D nurse a quick rundown. Velamentous cord… Bleeding… Lost twins last year… She hooked me up to a monitor and confirmed there was a heartbeat. THANK YOU GOD!! When I asked what it was she said, “141. That’s really good.” No, it wasn’t. This baby had always been in the 160’s and 170’s. Always. I knew something wasn’t right. She tried to comfort me and tell me that maybe it was my stress and to lie on my left side and relax for a few minutes. She would be back to check. I couldn’t relax. Shocking! And it felt like only a few minutes had gone by when I said, “Stephen, either my water has just broken or I’m bleeding. Bad!” He didn’t look and rushed passed me to get the nurse. Her quick peek under the sheet told me everything I feared. It was blood and lots of it. What happened next is like what you see on TV or in a movie. People circling and buzzing around me. Inserting needles, hooking up monitors, paging for help, telling me things I have no recollection of. At one point Stephen was given a pair of scrubs to put over his clothes. He was still putting them on when the doctor ran in and said she was sorry, but he couldn’t go with us, they were going to have to put me under. We had a few split seconds to say goodbye as they started wheeling me away. My mind was racing out of control – not knowing if he would see either of us alive again. And what about Daniel? How could I leave these two without a mother and wife? What if the baby survived and forever felt like she was responsible for her mother’s death? What if I made it but the baby didn’t? How could we go through this again? These thoughts, my anxiety, and the moving gurney gave us time for only a quick kiss and an “I love you.” Pitiful. Goodbyes should be better than that. They’re racing me down the hall asking me to sign consent forms, shaving me for surgery, and yelling orders about who needs to do what. It was surreal. Enter the OR and it was the very definition of organized chaos. With military-like precision, people were swirling through the room. One person was calling out info during all of this, “Patient’s name is Nicole Berry, date of birth May 11, 1977.” “AGREE!” everyone would shout in unison as they continued swirling. The amount of activity was overwhelming. The anesthesiologist was standing at my shoulders stroking both of my arms. “I know you’re scared, but we’re going to take care of you. This is something we do every day and you are going to be…” “Mrs. Berry I need to insert another IV into…” “This will be very uncomfortable but I have to put a catheter in for…” “Patient will be…” “AGREE!” And on, and on, and on. Every time someone spoke to me all I could say was, “Just save her! Do what you have to do, I don’t care, just save her!” They didn’t need my permission; they just needed to do it. Now! Still stroking my shoulders and keeping me calm(ish), it was go-time and the anesthesiologist placed the mask over my face. The only way to describe that particular moment is terror. Will I wake up? Is this it? Will the baby be ok? “Dear Lord, please protect me and this baby. Please forgive me when I have sinned against you. Thank you for the life you have blessed me with and…” “Mrs. Berry? Mrs. Berry? Can you hear me? You’re in recovery. Your surgery went well. Your husband will be in to see you soon. Mrs. Berry?” It’s unbelievable how you can miss entire chunks of your life. Big chunks. Coming out of an anesthesia fog is one of the worst things ever. I remember seeing Stephen, I remember them mentioning the baby, I remember my dad coming back to see me and leaving quickly before he lost it. Courtney was there, too, of course. She just wanted to know what she could do to help us. Well, you pretty much saved both of our lives, so I think you’re about at your limit! The next several hours are a blur. The next few days, really. My recovery was tough. I would learn later that two OB’s performed my surgery, and that one of them was very sore from trying to dislodge Mallory from under my ribs. I was bleeding through my stitches, and just overall it was not your standard C-section. It was rough and I was sore. But we were both alive! I also found out that when Courtney called my doctor that afternoon (remember they were off that day) that she rushed to the hospital from her gym. I was already in surgery so there was nothing she could do, but she sat and waited. She apologized for being sweaty coming from the gym, and she sat there and waited with Stephen and Courtney. Those aren’t billable hours, that’s just an amazing doctor who cared about her patient. Unbelievable. Over the next few days reality started to sink in and I was finally able to make the trip over to the NICU building to see the baby. She was amazing and you all have seen the pictures. Then there was the moment. The moment, several days later, when Stephen and I were in the NICU talking to her neonatologist that I finally got the courage to ask the question I couldn’t quit thinking about but was too scared to ask. “Is there a point you guys will know… an age that she’ll get to… is there a milestone she needs to reach before you know if she’ll live or not?” Her immediate and calm response was “Oh, she’s WAY past that point.” Complete. And. Total. Meltdown. She and Stephen were both surprised that I didn’t already know that, but no one had TOLD me. The tears wouldn’t stop. It was such a release of fear, unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I knew she would have a long way to go, but she would LIVE! THANK YOU, LORD!!!
Posted on: Tue, 30 Sep 2014 22:11:47 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015