It was 1:00 AM on Christmas morning and I had just finished my nightly mid-night protein infusion when I looked out the window of my hospital room thinking that the only thing that could make this day better would be if it were a white Christmas.
Two minutes later I got a white Christmas, it just was not the kind I was hoping for...a nurse ran into my room. "Roll over!" she said, "Turn to your side." I rolled. She moved the monitors this way and that, but I had no idea what was happening. "It's not working. Code White!"
Now I had no idea what a Code White was, but I had watched enough Grey's Anatomy to know that if the the medical staff is speaking in codes, it wasn't a good sign. Throughout the day and night I heard the code announcements over the loud speakers and every time I heard one I knew someone was in trouble so I stopped whatever I was doing to say a little prayer for them, whomever they were and whatever was happening. It never occurred to me that I might actually be in a situation similar to the ones Dr. McDreamy might respond to on TV.
Within seconds there was a second nurse with an oxygen machine and seconds after that three doctors moving me this way and that trying to track the babies' heartbeats. Baby A had a major deceleration; her heartbeat is usually 155-165 per minute and it had dropped to 70 for several minutes.
Finally, they got her heartbeat to stabilize and one by on the doctors and nurses left my room turning off the light on their way out. You know, so I could sleep. Riiiight. I lay there as still as I possible could be and just listened to the babies' heartbeats on the monitor trying to listen for another decel.
As I was laying there I felt a tremendous gush of fluid. I hit the nurse's call button on my bed and the nurse helped me get out of bed, both of us expecting it to be a loss of amniotic fluid...but when I stood up my bed was covered in blood...and so was I. Again, it looked like a scene out of a TV show.
So less than an hour from my first Code White (which, btw is a maternal/fetal emergency) I got a second (one for each baby I suppose). I swear I turned around and my room was full of even more doctors and a stretcher. Merry Christmas!
I was rushed into Labor and Delivery and was soon being poked and prodded in every direction from a full medical team. It was determined we had a placental abruption which is a very serious condition where the placenta separated from the uterine wall. In our case only partially, but could still deprive the babies of oxygen and nutrients and cause severe bleeding.
Surprisingly the babies' heart rates remained steady. Since the babies didn't seem to be affected and I wasn't in active labor the high risk doctor on call decided to keep me pregnant. I was the one bleeding not the babies and at 25 weeks gestation it was better for them if I stayed pregnant and received blood transfusions as necessary. Just to be safe I wasn't allowed food or fluids, just an IV. I wasn't about to argue, I was not ready to give up being pregnant!
I was however, ready to argue with the nurses when they wanted me to walk to the bathroom unassisted. With the loss of blood, fluids, and all of the muscle (from being on bed rest for 10 weeks) I was panting and needed to sit down before I walked to the end of my bed. I asked for a wheelchair and they agreed but only used it for me to take breaks - I had to get back up and walk the whole way. I protested, I whined, I argued. If all this had happened while I was being still what was going to happen if I pushed myself too far?
I'll tell you what happened - I passed out into my nurse. That was a miserable experience and I spent the rest of the day dry heaving into a bucket with a wet towel on my face with my temperature climbing. Again, Merry Christmas!
"You're weak." the nurse told me. That stung. I knew she meant I was physically weak, but it felt like a personal attack on my endurance. I wanted nothing more than to stay pregnant! Then the shift supervisor came in, "You're weak." She said, and for twenty minutes went on to tell me I was young, I should have no problem getting to the bathroom or showering on my own. "You need to at least try." She said...as I was dry heaving. I wanted to yell and shout and scream, what do you mean try??? All I had been doing since October was try everything I could to stay pregnant! I would do anything I could, but I didn't see how pushing myself to fainting was going to help keep the babies inside of me. Fortunately my husband intervened on my behalf and insisted that I be able to eat or drink something before I was expected to get out of bed again...but even he wanted me to try; if I didn't show an effort they may not give me the option of staying pregnant for my own safety.
The next morning I was grateful to still be pregnant and I said a prayer thanking God and asking Him to help me release some of the negativity I was still harboring against those bullies. I was so angry and hateful toward them, I just seethed with bitterness towards everyone who walked through my door and it was poisoning me. So...I tried getting out of bed and I gave it my all and I did great! I only stopped to rest once roundtrip! But I had a new nurse and she didn't recognize the effort I had made. "You're weak." She said. I was crushed. And then I snapped.
"I. AM. NOT. WEAK!!! I am doing the best that I can. Look at my file, I have been fighting for these babies for months and I assure you, I am not weak!" I yelled and I lost my temper on this poor soul. Probably not the reaction God had in mind...or maybe He did because afterwards I felt terrible and recognized I had to make some changes; it was my own choices leaving this horribly bitter flavor in my mouth. I had to change the path I was on. Yes, this was probably the most intense emotional and physical challenge I had ever experienced, but it was not okay for me to take out my feelings on other people, especially other people who are trying to help me.
So I swallowed that bitterness and I apologized. She accepted my apology and was a little more helpful and empathetic for the rest of her shift. As the nurses changed guard and my physical strength was mentioned my emotional strength was also tested; I tried my very best to be kind and gracious and not take offense (or yell, or scream, or shout). Oh I wanted to, very much actually, but I knew it would leave me feeling empty not vindicated. I had to intentionally manually (and repeatedly) override these emotions. I would not and will not let this experience taint me.
Sometimes life is just too much and everything is outside of our control...everything except our attitudes and responses; those we very much control and make the difference between making or breaking us. It's not easy, but its also never too late to redirect and get on the right path.
John 15:1-2
I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser, Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes that it may bear more fruit.John 15:5
I am the vine and you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.
Inspirational Quote:
"Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place." ~ Kurt Vonnegut
My Prayer:
Dear Heavenly Father,Please forgive me for harboring such bitterness in my heart toward your other children. Please help me release this negativity and choose love over hate so that I may bear fruit that is sweet to Your lips. Please help me preserve sweetness over bitterness in my heart and embrace this pruning process so that I may bear more fruit for You. Thank you for Your tender love and grace. Amen.
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