The Hospital Stay (Olivia’s Birth Story, Part 3)

If you haven’t read part 1 and part 2 of her birth story you can read them here.

Some of the events of the hospital stay are hard to remember. Especially those first two days. There are some things I remember in detail quite vividly, but just don’t want to relive them again. Here is a breakdown of the days, six in total. That’s a long stay.

Wednesday, Nov. 18th

As I said in the previous post, I was put on a magnesium drip for 24 hours to prevent seizures due to preeclampsia. I had a score of nurses in and out of my room all day, constantly checking my blood pressure. Olivia was experiencing low blood sugars on account of her slight prematurity and had to have foot sticks every four hours. Anytime her sugars dipped too low, they had to call in the lab for a blood draw.

All this meant she had to supplement. Luckily my hospital recently started offering donor milk that we could use if we had a medical issue, versus using formula. It was hard for me because I was so concerned with being able to breastfeed successfully and I was worried her being given bottles right away would tamper with that. On the first day, we were able to use a little syringe and Chris fed her the milk after I nursed her. It was hard hearing her cries for every poke they gave her, even though I knew it was necessary.

My parents came for a short visit that evening. It sucked because I was so out of it and foggy from the mag drip and emotional and basically that visit was kind of a blur.

That first night I think Chris got a few hours of sleep, but I got none. We parked her bassinet as close to my bed as possible, but every time she cried, I could do nothing but put my hand in there after awkwardly maneuvering around the IV in my wrist and the pain from my incision. Every time I nursed her, I had to call for Chris to come to get her for me. It was frustrating.

Plus, every little noise she made kept me up. (Newborns are noisy.) Breastfeeding that first day was a bit rough. She was a floppy baby and I felt completely inept even though I had done so much research to try and prepare. Plus the day shift nurse was new or something and couldn’t help me at all which led to frustrated tears from me.

Thursday, Nov. 19th

My bp was still acting up and the nurses told me I may not get to stop the mag in the morning. I ended up being on it until 11:30 am but had to wait until the effects wore off to be able to get out of bed. Around 3:00 I started feeling better, not as fuzzy as I was, but still not back to normal. I got to stand up for a bit. Someone warned me that when I stood, it would feel like my insides were going to fall out. That’s exactly what it felt it. Ugh. Not a good feeling. Later in the evening, I got my catheter out and was allowed to walk with two nurses to the bathroom. Again, besides my insides trying to fall out, it felt really good to be able to get out of bed.

Olive continued to get her feet poked and had to be examined by the pediatrician. She wasn’t thrilled. But she did get her first bath which was amusing for us.

Our second night was rough. We didn’t sleep again and she was crying most of the night unless I was nursing her or she was on my chest. Anytime I tried to fall asleep, my body would jerk and I would startle. Our night nurse was super helpful with breastfeeding support, unlike the previous nurses. She informed us the second night is always the worst with cluster feeding. She gave us some good tips and I started feeling better about breastfeeding.

Friday, Nov. 20th

We were informed Olive had lost 11% of her weight. She was 7lb 5 oz at birth and weighed 6 lb 8 oz when she went to the nursery for her newborn tests and car seat test. They told us we had to start supplementing now for weight loss. Again, we could use donor milk, but still, it was a blow to me.

Luckily, the nurse set me up with my own pump and agreed I could pump the colostrum to give her after every feeding. So every three hours I nursed her and then pumped and Chris gave her first the colostrum and then whatever donor milk she would drink. She finally had controlled blood sugars so we could stop the pokes.

I was told I could take a shower until they checked my bp again and found it to be really high despite being on 800mg of Labetalol (I was normally managed on 200) and was told to go back to bed. They decided to bring in an internist to manage the blood pressure issue. This happened while my mom was with me as Chris had gone home to change and shower.

The rest of the evening is hard to talk about. It was by far the worst night. It involved me having a complete meltdown from not sleeping for over 60 hours now, and Olive going to the nursery for the night. What I will say, is I could not have had a better evening nurse. She was wonderful. She advocated for me and spent a lot of time in my room supporting me. Long story short, I accepted a sleeping pill and slept about 7 hours completely uninterrupted.

Right here is where I’m writing, in 2022, and I realized I never spoke about that night on here. What happened was this. Keep in mind, it’s now been 7 years and not all of it is clear, but I’ll share what I remember. I hadn’t really slept in three days, since the night my water broke at home. I actually really didn’t sleep at all and hadn’t told the nurses about the jerking movements my body would make right before trying to fall asleep. I was exhausted, but quite literally, my body wouldn’t let me go to sleep. So I started hallucinating.

That evening, my wonderful nurse made a sign for the door around 8 pm, after convincing me reluctantly, that I needed to sleep without my baby in the room. Initially, I fought against it, and I think sleep deprivation was clouding my judgment. In the end, I cried and agreed Olivia could spend the night in the nursery. “If she’s upset, we’ll send her back. We won’t keep her from you,” the nurse promised. I don’t remember how long it was supposed to be, but I was to be left alone until midnight or maybe 2 am until my next blood pressure check.

But I didn’t sleep. Instead, I kept jerking awake. Constantly. Chris was on the couch, snoring quietly. In addition to continuing to jerk awake, I kept hearing Olivia crying from the nursery. It was her. I knew her cry like I knew the back of my hand. I tried to tune her out, but I couldn’t take it anymore. Why wasn’t anyone helping her?

I pushed the call button. My nurse came to the side of my bed in the dark.

“Is my baby crying?” I asked, whispering. She looked at me strangely. No, she said, she’s fast asleep.

I couldn’t speak. I was going crazy. I’ve joked about that countless times on this blog. But this time, there was nothing funny about it. In fact, it chilled me. I couldn’t breathe.

“But I hear her,” I said again, quietly. The nurse told me she’d be right back. That she was going to get the on-call doctor.

They came back pretty quickly. The nurse on one side, sitting on my bed, and the nameless, faceless female OB on the other. They talked to me, I don’t remember what they said. I wanted to throw my IV machine at Chris. He was oblivious, sleeping five feet away from me and fuck, I needed him.

“This could be the preeclampsia,” the doctor said, more to the nurse, “She needs to be on full bed rest until we can know what’s going on.”

And then she locked up all four bed rails.

I was trapped. I was locked in. They’re going to send me to psych, I thought wildly, as the gasping sobs, the kind where you can’t catch your breath, started. They’re transferring me. They’ll going to keep me from my baby.

In my memory, and on that night, the doctor gives me a cold look from above my bed and leaves. I know logically that’s not what happened.

“She’s locking me in!” I said frantically to the nurse, who remained by the bed, “Get me out of here!” Finally, my shouts were enough to wake my husband. Or maybe I started shouting before the doctor left. I don’t remember.

“I can’t stay locked in this bed!” I said. The nurse unlocked the bottom rails again and moved them back.

“No,” she said gently, “You’re not locked in here. I’ll talk to her.” She didn’t think this was a preeclampsia side effect, she thought I was having auditory hallucinations from sleep deprivation. She convinced me finally to take a sleeping pill, some mixed concoction that would end up knocking me out completely for the next 7 hours. And I slept.

Saturday, Nov. 21st

I was reunited with Olive at 6:30 in the morning. I had the worst night of my life and was ready to punch and kick and growl to get to her, and she rolls in with the day nurse sucking a pacifer. “Someone’s ready for you, Mom!” the nurse calls cheerfully as if last night didn’t happen. I snatched her back.

My blood pressure was high again (big surprise) and that led to a morning of constant monitoring and IV meds to bring it down. The internist saw me and put me on a second blood pressure med. My blood pressure went down, but I wasn’t allowed to get out of bed.

I had a second amazing nurse, Chris, that got me through that day (the first time being subjected to a bedpan and then later that day, a bedside commode) with grace, respect, and laughter. She was incredible. I continued to pump colostrum as we supplemented. That night, I decided reluctantly to send Olive to the nursery again after her last feed at midnight to try to get some sleep. I figured if I was going to get out of there, I needed sleep and maybe that would help my blood pressure from the stress of being in the hospital. However, my blood pressure decided not to cooperate and I was up until 3:30 in the morning because the night nurse (same as the night before) had to follow a protocol of blood pressure checks every ten minutes and IV meds. Fuck. Me.

Sunday, Nov. 22nd

I slept for a total of maybe an hour until 5:30 am when the lab came to draw my blood and thus began the barrage of more monitoring. Olive came back from the nursery early in the morning and it gave me immediate relief to have her back. We were informed that she was back up to an 8% loss, and was 6 lb 12 oz. We could stop supplementing. My milk was starting to come in finally.

I was with my favorite nursing assistant, Nayomie, who was going to help me shower when I stood up and felt dizzy. Turns out my blood pressure had tanked and the internist had to come cut back one of my meds. I finally stabilized and was able to shower. It was wonderful. I felt like a new person. We were hoping to be discharged tomorrow, but the staff kept saying, IF. IF your blood pressure cooperates you can probably go home. I decided again to send Olive to the nursery in hopes of trying to get some sleep.

The good thing was I pumped enough milk to give to the nursery for a 3:00 am feeding, and then she would come back to us at 6:00 am. I had the same night nurse again who reassured me that when she has free time on her shift she goes to the nursery and holds her babies. So I knew Olive would be in good hands.

Monday, Nov. 23rd

I was awakened at 3 am for a blood pressure check. It was high. Like 197/117. She had to call the on-call internist who told her to “follow the protocol” which was two IV doses of labetalol and IV hydralazine if those didn’t work. Accompanied by very frequent blood pressure monitoring. I was in for another sleepless night.

“Fuck the protocol,” I told her. Chris and I were so fed up. I told her that if this IV labetalol didn’t work, they were going to find something else and I was going to refuse. It seemed like every dose of IV meds just brought my blood pressure up higher. She agreed and said this protocol was stupid.

She came back 20 minutes later after receiving the medication and my blood pressure was even higher. So I told her enough was enough and she could call him back and say I’m refusing the second labetalol dose. I told her I wanted to go to the IV hydralazine. She called and came back and said the doctor agreed with me and she gave me the hydralazine and every blood pressure reading for the next hour started dropping. I stabilized for the next few hours and by 10 am, the internist rounded again and said I could be discharged.

Elated is putting it lightly. There was no way, absolutely no way I could spend another night there. We finally were able to pack up and left at 12:30 pm.

You guys, I know this was long and probably kind of boring. But it was awful. Every day caused me to cry over something and several of those were complete meltdowns. I talked to hardly anyone outside of the hospital. The only visitors we had were my parents, but that was only until day 3 and then none were allowed after that. I’ve been out of there for about 2 weeks now and thinking about my stay is a little easier, but there are things I just don’t want to talk about with anyone. It sucked. Chris was wonderful. Olive kept me from completely losing my sanity. The staff for the most part was wonderful. But it was, in some ways, traumatizing.

And now this is really long and the baby needs to eat again so I am calling it a night. I promise the next post will be more uplifting. Because, Olivia. She’s pretty awesome.