Guilt. Unfortunately there wasn't anything they could do for my guilt. I felt horrible. I had a few fetal monitors on me all the time. I kept thinking about Maryam "playing" in my tummy. When you're laying flat on your back, or on your side in a hospital bed, you feel every move your baby makes. It felt like she was playing in there! She was constantly on the move. I kept thinking things like, "my body is failing her." "She's going to be ripped from her comfortable home, way too early, be horribly afraid, terribly uncomfortable maybe even in pain, she's going to be poked, prodded or operated on, and maybe not get the chance to live at all and its all my fault." Guilt, it can be a horrible thing. It was nearly all consuming, until fear crept in.
Fear. I never truly knew fear until that day. And it was made a reality when the head of the NICU, Dr. Schneider, came into my room to discuss my "options." I remember thinking "Options? Yay! Options! This has to be good news!" Ignorance. I don't even know how to type these words... bare with me. He began by telling me about the NICU and that normally I'd get a tour before the baby was born but that due to how sick I was, I couldn't do it. He then told me something like the hospital policy is that if a baby is born after 25 weeks gestation, they do everything they can to help him/her survive. Since I was only at 24 weeks 4 days, I, as Maryam's mother, had to decide whether or not I wanted them to try to keep her alive. My heart sunk into my stomach. My breathing became rapid. I'm pretty sure my eyes welled with tears. I remember staring at him wondering how many times he's told a pregnant mother these words. I remember thinking, he has a crappy job. Then I remember asking him, "Can this wait until my husband gets here? He's coming in from Vegas and should be here within a few hours." I remember the relief on his face when he said, "You have a husband coming? Yes! Take your time, you have up until you deliver."
When Brett got in I told him about the conversation I had with Dr. Shneider. He asked me what I thought. We had already made the decision that the baby would have to come out if I was about to die. It would be hard enough for Brett and our families to lose a baby, losing me would just make life too hard, I knew this. I HATED it, but I knew it. So, I took the cowardly route. I suggested that we wait. There wasn't any reason to make that horrible decision before we had to. So, we just prayed that I could stay pregnant for 3 more days and take it out of our hands.
December 6, 2006 Brett and my mom were troopers. One of them spent the night in my room every night. Most, if not all nights, Brett was there and during the day, my mom was there for it all. I had Brett, my mom, Brett's mom, our dads, my sister, brother, Scott, Lynn, my friends, Brett's friends and even my Uncle Richard popped in from Lodi for a visit. At any given point of the day or night, there was someone else in my room. No one wanted me going through this alone. I'll be forever grateful.
Day two my IV collapsed. Little did I know that this would be a daily occurrence. It SUCKED. When the body is super swollen to the point that you look like Memory Foam, its very difficult to get an IV in. My swelling had gotten so bad that I felt like the skin on my arms was just going to split open. It was very painful. I kept waking up in pain. The doctor decided to give me Ambien. BIG, HUGE mistake. The Ambien couldn't keep me asleep through the pain. So, I would wake up from the pain, but my brain would still be partially asleep. Brett thought I had gone completely psychotic. I kept talking about being in line at a grocery store. Weird stuff. He told the doctor not to give me anymore Ambien.
December 7, 2006 My body was falling apart. I was told that I was having kidney failure. I wasn't producing enough urine. If I didn't start producing enough urine they were going to have to deliver the baby before the kidney failure became permanent. Not good news. Brett made up cute little cheers about peeing, it was funny. We tried to make lite of a very heavy situation.
My IV collapsed again and they were able to get it going again in one of my hands. I was still very uncomfortable. I was moved from my left to my right to my back throughout the day, but nothing helped. I hurt.
Dr. Schneider came back to tell me that I had made it to 25 weeks and now the directive is to do everything possible to save "the baby." I remember looking at Brett and smiling, I don't know what we would have decided and I'm glad I'll never know. But then came the bad news. 35%. He told us that our baby only had a 35% chance of survival. That heart to the stomach feeling came back, it came back with a vengeance. Then he continued. Assuming that she made it, of that 35%, 75% chance she'll have a severe handicap from a brain hemorrhage or other complication from the severity of her prematurity, 50% chance that she'll have a moderate handicap, like CP, hearing loss, vision loss, limited mobility, and about a 5% chance that she'll have no problems at all. He asked if we had any questions, I'm sure we did, but I can't remember asking them. I don't remember him leaving the room.
I remember laying there crying thinking about my poor baby. I couldn't get the hurt out of my throat. The guilt and fear just settled there in the back of my throat like a hot iron ball. It burned to cry, and it burned not to cry.
December 8, 2006 My kidneys made a come back and I was peeing again. I can only assume they gave me some sort of medicine to help with that, but I can't remember. I do remember that my IV collapsed, again. This time they couldn't get it going again in all the usual places. I laid in that bed for 2 hours while I was poked in my arms, legs, hands and feet. The needle would just go in and out, in and out, never striking a vein. (My poor mommy sat there watching her baby go through this. I didn't fully appreciate that fact until after Maryam was born.) I kept thinking I'd start leaking water! I didn't, but that would have been REALLY amusing if I did. Eventually the doctors called 2 anesthesiologists in to take care of the IV situation. They ended up putting the IV in my Jugular. Yes, my jugular. SCARY. I was afraid to move for the next two days because in my head, if it came out, all the blood in my body was coming out with it.
My kidneys were doing better, my IV was going again but then I started coughing. They put a pulse oximeter on me and determined that I needed some extra oxygen. So, now I had a nasal cannula on to help me breathe. I remember dozing off and waking up from a horrible dream. I remember dreaming that my baby was born. I woke up practically screaming at Brett asking if she was alive. He calmed me down and explained that it was just a dream and that I was still pregnant.
I remember crying a lot that day and the next. It seemed like every time I'd shut my eyes tears would fall down my face and into my hair. I was tired. I hurt. I felt guilty. I was scared out of my mind. I felt bad for my husband. I felt bad for my mom. I felt bad for Sarah and Scott who couldn't even enjoy the fact that they were pregnant. I felt bad for my Mother-in-Law and Father-in-Law because they canceled their trip to VA to see Brett's sister for Christmas.
That night my room was full of visitors.
I didn't sleep that night. I think I knew Maryam was going to be born soon.
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