The Worst Day of My Life

The birth of your first born is the greatest day of your life! Several hours of labor with your frantic and nervous husband by your side, maybe holding your hand or your leg, dabbing your brow, some pushing, and then the ultimate experience of holding and cuddling your newborn for the first time. It's so amazing, gazing at your new born as the oxytocin is released in your brain, and you form a bond with that child that will last beyond a lifetime. Well, what if this isn't what happens? What if everything that you visioned for the birth of your first child is not reality?

The worst day of my life, by far, is the day that my first, Charden, was born. I remember the day with sadness, a sinking feeling inside, and some guilt (oh, and a ton of pain). It had been a normal pregnancy up until 29 weeks. I had gained a lot of weight (60 or so pounds), but I was also one of those careless, stupid pregnant women who thought that pregnancy = I can eat whatever I want to get the hell out of the way of my chocolate cake! I went to the doctor for what I thought was something minor, and my blood pressure came back high. I was told to go home and rest and come back the next day. I did, and it was still high. I told my doctor I was really stressed out, and she told me, and I will never forget the look in her eyes, that it was about to get even more stressful, because she was admitting me to the hospital.

I had heard about pre-eclampsia before, but I had no idea who serious it was, or why. So I found myself in the perinatal unit, in my own room, strapped up to all kinds of monitors. I did not understand what any of this meant. A perinatologist came in, and talked with me about “the plan,” which was to keep me on hospital bed rest until the baby was born. The “goal” was to get me to 33 weeks. I thought that was totally insane- of course I would make it that long! But do I really have to lay in this bed in this hospital for all that time? That was WEEKS away! You're crazy.

I was admitted on Wednesday, November 12^th, 2008. On Thursday, I was given an ultrasound, which revealed something called “Double Bubble Syndrome,” or, Duodenal Atresia. Basically, her stomach was not attached to her small intestine properly, causing gas to build up in her stomach, creating a “double bubble” look on the ultra sound. I was told that 20-30% of babies that have this may also have Down's Syndrome. I had a FISH test done the next day by amniocentesis, and the results for Down's was negative. This whole process up to this point was very surreal. It takes my brain a long time to process information like what was happening, and the fact that my first baby wouldn't be able to eat when born and would need immediate surgery to SURVIVE.

"Double Bubble Syndrome" or Duodenal Atresia, an Ultrasound Picture

On Sunday, November 16^th, I woke up with a stomachache. I figured I was just hungry. I ate some breakfast. The stomachache got worse. I told the nurse. I vomited. Within hours, I was doubled over in pain. There was a sharp, throbbing, stabbing pain in my upper right abdomen- right where my liver is. I was admitted to Labor and Delivery. I was crying from the pain, writhing from it. They didn't want to give me anything, afraid it may mask any other symptoms. I was in this pain FOR HOURS. Excruciating. My blood pressure was 210/150. I was 30 weeks, 3 days pregnant. I was terrified.

Finally, somewhere between 5:30 and 6:00pm, my labs came back abnormal. I had HELLP Syndrome, a deadly extension of pre-eclampsia that would kill both me and Charden if she were to stay in me any longer. I was rushed to an emergency c-section, and Charden was born at 6:22pm.

Her birth was silent. The only reason I knew she had been born was because the doctor said, “Hello, Baby.” I will never forget those two words. Charden was whisked out of the room before Beau could even see her. She weighed two pounds, eight ounces, and was 14.5 inches long. I was not pregnant any more, and I was not holding my baby. I didn't even get to see my baby. I had no idea what she looked like. I was taken to recovery and wrapped in this warm, cocoon type thing because I was trembling like crazy. They brought Charden out, in an isolette, before she was transported to a children's hospital down the street that thankfully, has an excellent NICU. I got to see her from a distance of about four feet before they took her. Charden would spend 34 days there, but that whole experience is another story.

So, where did this leave me? I was left alone, in my hospital room, no longer pregnant, with no baby in sight. Beau had left to be with her, which was fine. Yes, I needed him more than ever, but SHE was now more important than ME. I was terrified, and I could not wrap my head around what had just happened.

HELLP Syndrome is pretty rare. Wikipedia says:

HELLP syndrome is a life-threatening obstetric complication usually considered to be a variant or complication of pre-eclampsia.[1] Both conditions usually occur during the later stages of pregnancy, or sometimes after childbirth. "HELLP" is an abbreviation of the three main features of the syndrome:[2]

• Hemolysis
• Elevated Liver enzymes
• Low Platelet count

HELLP usually begins during the third trimester; rare cases have been reported as early as 21 weeks gestation. Often, a patient who develops HELLP syndrome has already been followed up forpregnancy-induced hypertension (gestational hypertension), or is suspected to develop pre-eclampsia (high blood pressure and proteinuria). Up to 8% of all cases present after delivery.

Women with HELLP syndrome often "do not look very sick."[3] Early symptoms can include:

• In 90% of cases, either epigastric pain described as "heartburn" or right upper quadrant pain.[3][4]
• In 90% of cases, malaise.[4]
• In 50% of cases, nausea or vomiting.[4]

Source: www.wikipedia.org/wiki/HELLP_syndrome

Basically my liver was about to explode and I was about to die. I have never experienced full, onset labor pains, or a vaginal delivery, but I have experienced HELLP Syndrome, and I'm going to go ahead and assume that that pain was comparable, if not more severe than giving birth.

So, yes, the worst day of my life was when Charden was born. It was full of dread, uncertainties for my and her future, disappointment, and guilt. My head was spinning, and I was alone. All of my plans for a full term, healthy baby delivered into a world of happiness and certainty were gone. I was in pain, and confused. I would never be the same, which is what everyone says about seeing their first child. I didn't get to hold my first child for two days.

Today Charden is a healthy, incredibly happy and ridiculously curious (and hyper) four and a half year old. This story leads to the happiest day of my life- the happiest moment, exactly, which was when Adrienne was born, full term, healthy, and CRYING. That story will be for another day.

Charden, Climbing a Tree