Monday, December 31, 2012

The Physical Side (Part 1)

I need to write about what happened on Thursday night.  Most likely this will turn out to be pretty personal and not for the faint-of-blood reader.  But I'm not scared to share, so read only if you really want to know.  This is mostly for my memory.  Consider yourself warned.

On Thursday morning we drove 3 hours to my aunt and uncle's home near Fergus Falls to enjoy a third Christmas with another branch of extended family.  I had been feeling well physically besides the occasional nausea, fatigue, etc that was still happening from pregnancy.  We knew I only carried Ezra's body.  I had finally come to a place of being thankful that I got some extra time with him instead of just thinking it was weird to have a dead baby inside of me.  We had a pleasant day with family and enjoying Gwen.

At 11 pm, while watching Holiday Inn, I suddenly started experiencing labor-like cramping.  Probably the best description of that kind of pain is a 'charlie horse' but in your uterus.  It came in waves of pain and I was ok just breathing through them.  I was exhausted from a long day so I got into bed and hoped I could sleep a little bit.  Within 10 minutes I knew I wouldn't be sleeping much that night.  I grabbed an extra shirt, blanket, ibuprofen, and pack of pads and went downstairs to camp out by the bathroom.  I was already bleeding steadily and the pain was intense.

There was an empty twin bed near the bathroom and I laid down on it after wrapping my extra shirt around my waist, just in case I leaked.  I didn't want to stain any sheets!  A short while later, I knew I had to get up and switch pads.  In the bathroom I was shocked at how fast things were going.  Knowing my body, and how slowly things progressed last time, I thought this could take 4-5 days to get through.  But no.  It was clear that my body was freaking out and was trying to start a full clearing out process tonight.  The shirt I had wrapped around my waist was very bloodied and my pajamas were a mess.  I called my Mom, who was sleeping upstairs, and asked her to come down and be with me.

I have always struggled with the sight of blood.  It's one of my most frustrating flaws!  My Mom stayed with me for a while in the bathroom as I breathed through the contractions and let my body work.  Around 2 am,  I called my midwife to ask her about what my plan should be for dealing with this.  She mentioned going to the hospital if things weren't slowing down in an hour or so.  I was shaking uncontrollably and she said that is probably caused by all the hormonal shifts that were happening in my body.

At one point I felt that the tissue of the baby was beginning to emerge.  Before this there were a lot of clots and other yucky looking things, but this was different.  I expected him to come out all at once like my last miscarriage.  I had my hand below me because I really wanted to bring Ezra's body home to bury him under the tree with Joey.  I so longed to just hold his body in my hands and see the way that God knit him together and had sustained his life.  Seeing his body is a way of verifying to myself that he lived!  He was real.  This was the moment that I was longing for, even though it was terrifying at the same time.  It would make everything about his life and death real.

While my hand was below me to catch him, minutes passed.  Contractions hit me over and over and still he wouldn't emerge all the way.  It was so frustrating.  And after looking at my hand filled with blood a few times and feeling the blood pour over my hand without bringing a baby along, I started to feel dizzy.  My ears went numb and my vision started going.  My mom was right there, and I passed out into her arms while sitting on the toilet.  I was so scared.  I remember screaming "help me" over and over.  It was such a horrible feeling to loose control of my body.  Somehow my mom caught me and supported my weight while I sat.  I came around to her voice saying "Rebekah, Rebekah, I have you. You are with me. You are ok."  I started vomiting before I even opened my eyes.  This is one of the many reasons why I wish I could give my Mom and award.  She just held a towel up to my chest and then the trash can while I threw up into it.  I was shaking uncontrollably and really scared.  She helped get off the toilet and sit on the freezing ground.  Then while I cried on the floor I felt her wiping the blood off of my fingers, palms, and legs with wet wipes.

She told me I couldn't sit on the toilet like that anymore because I was losing blood flow to my legs.  She somehow got me cleaned up enough to lay back down in the twin bed, with a fresh pad and a towel wrapped between my legs.  She was so calm it made me feel better even though I was still in pain and feeling shaken.  I eased myself onto the bed and Mom went to wake up Bert.  I felt like I needed him with me to continue to face the night ahead and recover from passing out.  He was so great and let me lean on him.  It helped a lot.

From then on I was doing trips to the bathroom every 15-30 minutes to refresh pads, with my Mom right beside me.  In between bathroom trips the three of us would sit on the couch and try to talk about something cheerful while I breathed through my painful contractions.  I couldn't let myself lay down because it was too hard (or depressing) to not be able to actually sleep.  Any woman who has gone through a long labor knows, part of the challenge is fighting the tiredness to get the job done.

After a series of super painful contractions I passed the tissue of the baby.  I could tell it was a heavier mass than the clots and just knew it was him.  Mom was worried that me looking for him would make me pass out again, but I had to look.  Seeing him meant too much to me.  I got one glimpse of a rounded gray form.  And then I couldn't see him.  He was too far back.  I tried to get to him with a plastic fork and he kept slipping further and further back.  I couldn't believe it.  After a few tries I felt the words, "God is saying no."  "No."  You don't get to see him.  You don't get to hold him.  You have to wait until heaven.  This is not part of his plan for you.  No!  I could barely accept this was really happening.  I never considered that I wouldn't be able to get to his body.  I sobbed into my mom's legs and she cried over me.  Then I stood up to wash my toilet-water-hands and nodded for her to flush the toilet.  Heartbroken.  I remember being glad that even though I couldn't hold him, I got to know his name.  Ezra.  So many tears for you.

I told Bert back on the couch and we cried.  Then we continued on through the hours of pain and more blood.  I didn't know how much more I could take and started talking about going to the hospital.  It was 5 am, and 3 hours past when the midwife told me to "give it another hour."  I called her again and she said as long as my head felt clear while standing up I was probably fine.  She said things should start slowing down after passing the tissue of the baby and they probably wouldn't do much more for me in the hospital than was already being done.

Bert got a movie set up for us on his laptop for distraction and I leaned on him and listened to Bing Crosby singing in "Going My Way."  I was still consistently having to get myself up for the bathroom every 15-30 minutes and meanwhile was overflow bleeding onto a couple of maroon towels that we had discovered in a cabinet.  My mom was a champion of always getting up first when I said, "I think I need to go again."  She was up and willing before me every time and somehow was accomplishing laundry of my bloodied clothes in the meantime.

I felt my vision start to fade again while I was on the toilet and asked Mom to get Bert.  We yelled for him to come in and they both helped me up and out of the bathroom and then I passed out on the floor into Bert's lap.  Again.  I woke up crying.  I said, "I can't do this anymore.  Can we go to the hospital now?"  They both said yes and we started making arrangements.  Bring me pants.  Get some clean clothes and a hair binder.  Call ahead.  Borrow a car to drive.  etc.  I was relieved and felt sure that as soon as we got to the hospital, they would give me an IV of pain medicine and everything would be ok.  Too bad that's not how things turned out...


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