Wednesday, December 29, 2010

A quick Christmas update

My baby girl is growing up WAY too fast! I love her more and more every day. Brooke is nearly 6 weeks old...I can't believe how time flies. It seems like just yesterday we brought her home from the hospital...but the fact that she can no longer wear newborn clothes is a daily reminder of reality. We spent Christmas at Disneyland this year, and it was fabulous! I did miss putting up the tree, and decorating the jingle bells out of my home, but I'll live. We drove down to California again this year, which took two very long days to finish (my dad is dead set on flying from now on...I have a smile from ear to ear!). Brooklynn did great! By the time we got to the hotel each night after driving, her little tooshie was a bit red, and all she wanted to do was stretch out as much as she could, but my baby girl was such a trooper!





We spent 4 days in Disneyland/California Adventure, one at Knott's Berry Farm, and one day in LA. Well...Ben went to LA with my Dad, Brad, Erin, and Jessica. Granny, Mom, Kyle and Brooklynn needed break, and I needed to spend some time with Brooke after having my mom watch her while we went to Disneyland. I came back to nurse her every couple hours, but I missed my baby. Every time I saw a little girl at Disneyland, all I wanted was to be back at the condo with MY little girl. But Ben reassured me that she was fine (as did my mom with picture texts of her sleeping), and told me I needed some Mommy Time.





It was warm enough on the day we went to Knott's Berry Farm to take her out, and it was also good enough weather to have her go to Disneyland on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We got pictures of Brooke with Santa and Mrs. Claus...Mrs. Claus couldn't get enough of her, and just kept talking to her. Did you know Mrs. Claus has an Australian Accent? Neither did I, but she was the CUTEST thing! It didn't really feel like Christmas without the decorations, but the spirit of love and family was most certainly there!

I'm adding a few other pictures as well...we did a mini photo shoot with Brooklynn, as well as a couple Christmas ones. My mom has pictures of Brooklynn in her Minnie Mouse ears on Christmas day....I don't know how I missed that one, but I did. So as soon as I get those from her, I will post those too!









Lot of love!

Ben, Jamie, and Brooklynn

Friday, December 3, 2010

Brooklynn's Here!!!!

My baby girl is two weeks old today. It has been two weeks that I have had the blessing of this beautiful spirit in my home and in my family. 2 weeks since I first looked into the eyes of my gorgeous, long anticipated daughter. 2 wees since the most wonderfully horrid, excitingly nerve-wracking, hardest easy thing I have ever done. I know...I should have written the story by now, but this is personal, spiritual, and difficult for me to write. Plus being a new mom is tough stuff. Ben and Brooklynn are both sleeping, so I have a moment to relive and remember. This is going to be a long post, so I apologize in advance. I am also going to go into detail...so don't read the labor part if you don't want to know. I am writing this for me, so that I never forget what a true, miraculous, blessing Brooklynn Marie is to us.

Monday, November 15th, I had my 39 week appointment. I had gained about 6 pounds in water weight, and my blood pressure was slightly elevated, which made my OB a bit nervous. However, after laying on my side for a few minutes, it went back into normal range. When he checked me, I was a full 2 cm dilated, and about 60% effaced. Basically, not enough to say that I was in labor, though I was pleased that there was at least progress. Being that my BP was high, my OB wanted to see me again that Thursday the 18th. (This made it a little easier to go home with my daughter in my womb...not in the carseat.) So the appointment was set.

Thursday rolled around, and I had gained another 3 pounds, bringing my total weight gain to 40-41 pounds. My blood pressure was elevated again, and there was no bringing it down. I think it was 132/87...but I had a lot of BP readings that night, so I don't remember exactly. I had an NST, and she was doing great, but I wasn't having any contractions that they could monitor. My OB could tell how extremely uncomfortable I was becoming in my pregnancy, and it seemed that he was trying to find a reason to keep me. I will forever be grateful for his digging. He went ahead and sent me over to the hospital to be monitored some more, and so that I could get some blood work to test my liver and kidney functions, as well as my platelets.

A bit of a back story here...all three of these things could have come up ugly for me. When I was a child, I was found to have something called ITP. Basically, it is an autoimmune disease that targets and destroys healthy platelets, causing the inability for blood to clot. I haven't had an episode in over 7-8 years, and my Rheumatologist believes that (based on other cases) my ITP morphed into my RA...sort of a pre-cursor to a worse disease. But we all thought I was done having any symptoms of the ITP, with the exception of generally low platelets (still within healthy range...like 150,000 when it should be 200,000-400,000). 3 years ago, right before I married Ben, I nearly died because of my liver. My liver function tests all came back ridiculously, abnormally high...several times higher than normal. These two were my biggest concerns. I also had surgery due to malformation of my urinary tract...so this was the least of my worries, but I knew it could come back wonky. Okay, back to the story.

So I got to the hospital around 4, and my BP was being taken every 15 minutes until my OB showed up after clinical hours, around 5:30. During that hour and a half, my BP never stabilized. At one point it was 140/100. I never saw spots, or got headaches...I just had bad readings. When he walked into the room, I could tell that he had bad news. He just had "that look". He pulled up a chair and told me that due to my BP, I wasn't leaving until I had my baby in my arms. I was relieved to hear this, and couldn't understand why he thought that was a bad thing. Then he said that he got the lab results back. All the possibilities flooded through my head, absolutely paralyzing me with fear...then he told me what the problem was. Everything was fine except my platelet count, which came back at 86,000. I immediately started crying because I knew what that meant. No epidural. As a general rule, Anesthesiologists won't do an epidural or spinal block if the platelet count is below 100,000. So even if I had to have a c-section, it meant I was going to have to be knocked out...completely.


Me right after being admitted.

This was NOT going as I had planned. I had prepared myself mentally for a premature baby delivered via c-section. When I hit 37 weeks, and she magically flipped herself around into a head down position, I prepared myself for a vaginal delivery with an epidural. At 39 weeks, I was now totally high risk, even more so than before, with no epidural and a crappy situation if I had to have an emergency c-section...and circumstances could have changed at any time making that necessary.

To make matters worse, my OB had to go out of town for the weekend, and he was leaving at 5 am Friday morning. So I was stuck with one of two OBs...neither of which I had ever even met before, one (I found out) who was new to the area, and very knife happy. I prayed I would make it through the night without going into labor, just so I could get off Knife Boy's shift. Before my OB left, he started me on Cervadil. I was told not to expect too much, because for 85% of people, it does Diddly Squat as far as induction goes. He then apologized that he wouldn't be there to finish the nearly 2 year journey it took for us to get to this point. I felt kind of...honored(?)...that he would feel so invested in my case. After saying his farewells and well wishes, he left, and I started bawling all over again.

My mom and Ben left to get some dinner at my request, so that I could place everything that was swimming around my head. During the hour they were gone, I had made up my mind on several things.

1. I was going to be okay with the situation. I couldn't change it, I needed to deal with it, and fast. I wasn't going to be a pain in everyone's butt just because things weren't going my way. Instead I was going to act like this is how I wanted it to be all along. A delivery without an epidural. Women do it all the time, and so could I.

2. I was going to do everything in my power have this baby vaginally. This is more for selfish reasons...we are going to Disneyland for Christmas, and I want to ride the rides. Yes, there are other reasons, but this was the #1 reason for this one. #2 was because everyone thought I'd have to have a c-section (me included)...I wanted the chance to prove that theory wrong.

3. I was going to be the best behaved laboring woman they had ever seen. I remember hearing horror stories of women acting like toddlers during deliver. That was simply not going to be me. I was going to say my please and thank yous, and not let another naughty word out of my mouth. (Yes, I let the S word slip when I found out no epi.)

4. I was going to listen to the nurse's directions. Since Ben and I didn't plan on me actually "birthing" the baby, we didn't take childbirth classes. So this one was a must for me. I was scared out of my mind and had no idea what I was doing or how this all worked. They coach laboring women every time they go to work. They are the experts, and I needed to follow orders.

After my mom and Ben came back, I was still a little overwhelmed with everything, but I was in a better place mentally. 2 hours after the Cervadil was inserted, I started having steady contractions. At midnight, I had another blood draw to see if, by chance, my platelets had gone up enough to have an epidural. 87,000. No luck. A couple anesthesiologists had said that if I could get around 95,000, I could have one. A few hours after that (around 2 I believe) the nurse and my mom convinced me to start the IV pain medicine that I had been refusing, as the first dose is always the most effective, and I wanted it to count. A short while after that, I had to have the Cervadil pulled because I was over-stimulated by it, and my contractions were highly irregular.

At 5 am exactly, after going to the bathroom, I was getting situated back in my bed when I felt a small bubble pop "down there". I was trying to figure out how to describe what I was feeling to my mom. I was thinking my water broke, but there was no gush, no torrent of water that you hear about. The pad I was wearing wasn't even wet. My mom called my nurse in to check, and sure enough, my water broke. I was also 95% effaced and dilated to a 3. From that time until delivery, I had a nurse at my side, constantly watching over me, helping me through my contractions. My regular OB called before he and his wife left, to once again apologize and wish me luck. Sometime that morning, maybe 7 or 8, I don't remember, I had yet another blood draw to monitor my platelets. This time, there was no messenger, the anesthesiologist came to talk to me. He told me that all 20 of the anesthesiologists at Central Washington Hospital had gotten together and reviewed my case. There were 3 who had been quietly willing to do an epidural if my count stayed steady at 86-87,000. But all 20 said there was no way since my count had dropped to 79,000. I was going to have to do this the hard way. He also reminded me about the general anesthesia in case of a c-section. I kept telling myself that I could do this, and after a few minutes, I believed it again. After he left, I asked Ben to give me a blessing. I was told that everything was going to be okay, and that the delivery would happen how I truly desired. I knew that I would have a vaginal delivery at that point. The one thing I didn't want was a c-section. After that, I decided that I could handle whatever the Lord decided to throw me.

As the day progressed, so did my labor. Alicia, my RN, and Hannah, a student nurse on her second clinical day, did great and kept me going. Hannah was a bit shy at first, but I let her feel my belly (because you could feel the septum), and told her not to hesitate getting involved, and that I would try not to bite. After that, she just let her training kick in, got involved, and did beautifully. I slowly worked my way to being 5 cm dilated, and I stayed there for quite some time. I can't remember what time it happened, but some time that day, the on-call OB I had been holding out for (not Knife Boy) came in and broke the remainder of my water. Now THAT was the gush people talk about! There was some concern that there might be meconium due to the contractions I had been having for weeks, but the amniotic fluid was clean and clear. By 4:30 in the afternoon, I was a 6. After that, things got worse. The contractions were hitting me harder than ever. They weren't really "regular" as far as timing went, but when they came, they did so with force.

Around 5:15 I was checked again and I was nearly a 7, then everything changed. As soon as the nurse took off her gloves, I had a contraction. All of a sudden my stomach cramped, but not the same cramps I had been experiencing for the last 12 hours. My body took over and pushed against my will. No matter how hard or fast I breathed, my abdominal muscles still contracted. In one breath, I told the nurse "I'm not pushing, but I'm pushing. I can't stop it. I'm not trying to bear down, it's doing it on it's own." I was scared to death. I knew I couldn't push a baby out when I wasn't even a 7, and I was afraid I was hurting Brooklynn. As soon as that contraction was over, I started sobbing. Saying sorry over and over again, and asking if I had hurt my baby. My nurse just told me that my body was doing what it was supposed to do, and it wouldn't be long now. She checked me again, I was a 9, almost a 10. Another contraction hit, and the same thing happened, I was pushing without meaning to. During the contraction, she stayed inside me, pushing on the lip of my cervix, trying to make me a full 10. It worked. I asked if I could get one more dose of IV meds before I started into the real pushing. After all...she was going to get my next dose right before the crazy contractions started. She and my mom just looked at each other and said I couldn't have any IV meds anymore. I had to do this all natural, with no pain management. Then, I really got scared. The baby hadn't even started crowning yet, and I was in more pain than I wanted to think about.

I had another contraction, and remember saying "Heavenly Father, I need your help, I can't do this on my own." I told the nurse that the doctor needed to get there now, because I could feel the baby coming, and I was scared he wouldn't make it. She told me that he was already on his way. The doctor was there by 5:30, and after a couple contractions, and 4 very painful tears (due to how fast she came), Brooke's head and shoulders were out. The Doctor told me to stop pushing, because the cord was wrapped around her neck twice, and he needed to cut it before she could come out. The cord was wrapped so tightly, he had a hard time getting it cut. My mom said that the cord was also wrapped loosely around her body twice. After the cord was cut, she just slid out the rest of the way. Brooklynn Marie was born at 5:47pm.

When I saw Brooklynn while the doctor was cutting the cord from around her neck, I noticed that she was blue, but I didn't think anything of it. Her cord was wrapped really tightly, I could SEE that. I knew that as soon as the cord was gone, she would take a deep breath and turn a healthy shade of pink. I was wrong. When he laid her on my stomach, I knew something was very wrong. She wasn't crying. She wasn't moving. She wasn't breathing. Her heart wasn't beating. Her head fell back on my chest, and I saw her lifeless eyes roll back. I have experienced many scary things in my life. I have nearly died twice, had someone threaten my life, as well as the lives of my family members and friends, watched my mom nearly die 3 times, been thousands of miles away from a father putting his life on the line while fighting in Iraq, and what many people don't know, nearly kidnapped as a 7 year old child by a teenage boy. All of these experiences, combined, are nothing compared to the fear I felt in that moment. The fear that my sweet, innocent baby girl was born dead. The fear that I would never see her smile, hear her laugh, or watch her grow and learn.


Brooklynn right after delivery.

Barely able to speak, I did the only thing I could. I whispered, "Heavenly Father, save her" and then I cried the way my baby should have, the way I wanted her to cry...needed her to cry. The ache I felt for her was so deep, and so complete. After what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only a few seconds, they finally took her from me, and started working on her. It's a good thing my mom and Ben were there looking after her, or I might have just hopped off the table to be with her before the doctor had even begun to sew me up. As soon as they took her away, I started talking to her, pleading with her to breath. "Come on Brooke, breathe. You can do it Sweetheart. Breathe Baby Girl." For 30-45 seconds, these were the only things coming out of my mouth. Then it happened. She cried. It wasn't a huge cry, but it was enough to let me know that Heavenly Father heard me, and saw fit to answer my prayers. Enough to let me know that SHE heard me, that she was fighting for her life, and that she wanted to live.


Still a little blue


Getting some oxygen


Finally, a good cry. The best sound in the world!

Over the next several minutes her cries became more powerful, and the blue of her skin faded to a sweet, soft pink. Her APGAR score at 1 minute was a 4. But at 5 minutes she was an 8, and by 10 minutes, she was a 9. When Ben laid her on my chest the second time, her head fell back again, but this time because she willed it to. Instead of empty, rolling eyes, I saw bright, alert eyes, fixated so perfectly and intently on mine. It was as if in that one gaze, she was telling me that she was okay, that we weren't going to be separated just yet, and that I had plenty of time to get to know her. In that single gaze, all the fear and worry washed away, and another wave of tears hit. This time they were tears of happiness, relief, and gratitude. She weighed 6 pounds 12 ounces, and was 21 inches long, with a FULL head of dark brown hair, and gorgeous steely blue eyes. Today she is a bright, alert, happy baby, with no ill side effects from her ordeal. At her two week appointment today, she weighed 7 pounds 0.5 ounces, and was 21 1/2 inches long.


First time holding her while she was breathing.
Thanking Heavenly Father for saving her.



Day after Delivery


2 weeks old

Even though I didn't lose her, I have gained a greater appreciation and testimony of the gospel, particularly the blessing of eternal families. Throughout the ordeal, even though I plead with Heavenly Father that Brooklynn would live, I knew that she was mine, even if she didn't. That if it was in the Lord's plan that she not need anything from this world beside a body, it was okay because one day I would have had the chance to raise her. It would be okay, because Ben and I were sealed together for time and all eternity in the temple, and that she would be our daughter, and part of our family, forever.


Logan Temple...where we became an eternal family.

I am so grateful for Ben and my mom, who stuck with me throughout the whole process. Seeing Brooke so ill, made me have the tiniest glimpse of what my mom was going through watching me in labor. I understand now why she did many of the things she did while I was growing up. I understand her maternal need to care for me, support me, help me grow, protect me. I love her so much for all the things she has done for me, and I don't think I could ever repay her.


Ben bringing Brooke to me after she was okay

Ben was the ultimate support and teammate. I know it was hard for him to see me in that position and condition. I know because I saw it in his eyes as he breathed with me through every rough contraction. But he was there for me when I needed him most. I am so grateful that he is a worthy Priesthood holder, which made the blessing he gave me possible. He is truly my other half, and I love him more now than I did the day we were sealed together in the Temple of God for eternity. I love him more now than I did through the months of support he gave me while we struggled to conceive. I love him more now than I did a month ago. And I love him more and more every single day watching him love our baby girl.

So that's the whole story. That's why I cry when I think about Brooke's delivery. Not because of the pain of the labor and delivery itself, but because of what I very nearly lost, and what I am so very grateful for. Well, until next nap time!

Ben, Jamie, and Brooklynn Marie