Thursday, July 11, 2013

auto pilot

I don't really know where to start with this blog.  Yesterday was one of the most emotional days I have ever had.  I came in to be induced with the mind set that I was going to do it natural so I would be able to walk over to the NICU right away and see our baby girl.  I made it 12 hours and was doing okay, they hadn't checked to see how dilated I was for 4 hours however, and I was starting to lose hope.  Finally a dr. came in but instead of checking me she told me that it was getting late and they were probably going to try and have me wait until morning to deliver because they wanted a great NICU team on staff.  As I was sitting on the labor ball, my husband massaging my back, I broke down.  I couldn't do this for another 12 hours.  I wanted to see my baby girl.  My contractions were every 45 seconds and you are telling me that your going to give me medicine to stop them?? What was all this pain for then?  At that point I couldn't focus on my breathing I just wanted the drugs. 

After the epidural our Dr. came back in and said they had a great night team working that night and that they were ready for Capri. They broke my water and within 2 hours I was ready to push.
It all happened so quickly at that point.  Our room had been filled with family and friends there for support and hoping that little miss Capri would be okay.  Around 1030 the room was filled with around 10 people.  The dr came in to check my cervix so everyone waited outside.  She checked and said "lets have a baby".  Within 2 minutes the whole team was there and everyone was rushing around.  It happened so fast it was all kind of a blur.  We had our photographer from "Now I lay me down to sleep" next to me.  My husband with the video camera next to her.  5 doctors and several nurses around me.  They told me it was time to push and with the first contraction, 3 pushes we had our beautiful purple baby. I felt like the room was spinning I heard her squeak and remember thinking she's alive.  thank you God she's alive.  Mike cut the cord and they whisked her away.  I didn't get to hold her.  I didn't even get to touch her.  I laid my head on the pillow, stared into the window of the NICU and cried.  I cried and cried and cried. 
Its all real now.  Before, I thought I was ready.  I had prepared myself.  I had started planning her funeral.  I knew that my baby girl was going to die and I had accepted that.  But then I saw her face.  I saw her tiny hands and her head full of hair.  That is MY baby.  She is my blood, I created her.  You cant take her away from me.  I'm not ready.  I am never going to be ready.  This moment is supposed to be one of the happiest moments of your life.  I remember crying tears of joy when A and B where born.  These tears of fear are something I have never dealt with before.

Our family came back in,  Everyone was quiet.  I remember everything being blurry and all of the girls coming over to me 1 by 1 to give me a hug and tell me it was gonna be okay.  Every ones eyes were wet, makeup running down there face.

Today I have had lots of supportive texts and emails from friends.  We have had family with us all day long.  I have talked to lots of doctors about the next plan.  Thinking back on my emotions today.. the day was silent.  I repeated the same story over and over again.  We found out 3 weeks ago. Its so overwhelming. I don't know what the outcome is going to be. I'm okay. 
Truth?  I'm numb.  I'm not listening to anything your saying.  I don't want you to tell me its going to be okay.  I don't want you to touch me and hug me.  I'm in my little bubble and I will smile and nod and tell you thank you but I'm not listening to you.  I want to lay in my bed with my husband and cry.  I want to hold my kids and have my baby in my arms.  I want to feel happiness again.  Or even sadness.  All of my feelings are gone right now.  I'm numb. I don't want to think about my reality.  About my Childs new reality.  I don't want to hear the doctor tell me that if she does make it, its going to be a life of surgeries.  That the hospital is our new home.  I don't want to hear anything.  So I choose to tune you out.  Not because I'm rude or that I don't care.  But because I just cant handle anymore and this is the only way I know how to cope.  I'm on auto pilot