After we had some time, the doctor still needed to deliver the placenta. I wasn't able to push it out after trying a few times. Then they tried essentially pulling it out, but it just came out in little pieces. She said it was lucky that I actually just got the epidural because I really couldn't feel any of it. Eventually though, they said I needed to go to the operating room. My husband held Astrid in his arms as they wheeled me away in the hospital bed. Back in the Operating Room they used this vacuum to try to suction out the placenta. 30 minutes later (which she expected it to take 5) they thought I was okay.
I was wheeled back to the room where my mom was holding Astrid now. James was by my side as I sat up and said I just needed water. I told mom I wasn't ready to hold Astrid again yet. Then, I started to get sick. We couldn't find the nurse call light. Then I turned to my mom and said, "I'm going to pass out." My husband ran out of the room to get nurses. The last thing I remember was my mom screaming my name--not just yelling. Screaming. Every nurse on the floor came rushing into the room. I don't remember much of this, most of this I have been told. My pulse dropped down to just under 40. My blood pressure dropped a lot. They weren't sure what was going on. They got me on O2 right away. I started to slowly come back to consciousness, but my pulse was still low. The doctor was so upset--she felt like she did something wrong. She called another doctor to get an opinion because after 2 minutes my pulse was still just at 40.
I honestly thought I was dying. I secretly hoped that I would, because I didn't know if I could live without my little girl. They asked me if I knew my name and where I was. My husband just asked me to keep talking to him. I kept fading back and forth. My mom would just ask, "Jen?" I would say, "Yes?" and that would be enough for her to know I was still there. It seemed like eternity went by like this but after about five minutes (maybe less) they gave me a shot of epinephrine. Shortly there after the color started to come back to my face. I was told my entire face and lips were as white as a sheet. They pumped me full of fluid and confirmed that I lost just over a liter of blood, which is higher than what most c-section patients lose. They mentioned transfusion, but felt like with IV fluid and taking it easy I should be fine.
An organization that takes professional photos for free for parents in these situations came by and took some photos of our sweet girl with our permission. At first it seemed morbid, but both she and the nurses who have dealt with this said we would eventually find it healing. After the photos, the geneticist came in and said she looked perfect. Nothing at first glance that looked wrong to her, and that was good news. And sad news. After she left, and photos were done. It was time for our last moments with our angel. I again told Astrid how much I loved her, how sorry I was, and that she would always be my baby and my little girl. I played and sang to her "First Day of My Life" by Bright Eyes. The lyric that says:
And so I thought I’d let you know
That these things take forever
I especially am slow
But I realize that I need you
And I wondered if I could come home
For me that line referred to all my emotional blocks that I put up during this pregnancy. I know that logically speaking there's no way that this baby would know that I had done that. But the heart and the brain are two different places. After that, Daddy said his goodbyes. My mom and her boyfriend came in and said their goodbyes. At that was it.
They kept me in the hospital over night once more, which was good because I wasn't ready to go home that night empty handed. they came in later that evening with little molds of her feet and hands. They had foot prints done, and her little outfit was in the memory box for us.
I also kept her blankets that they kept her wrapped up in. I haven't been able to let go of them. I've slept with them every night since. I don't know how to get through these days. I don't know how to survive this horrible, horrible experience. I just know that I love her. I love her so terribly much. And I hurt so horribly. I want to wake up from this nightmare. I want to hide from everyone. This is the part I don't know how to do...
First Day of My Life - Bright Eyes
"I'm glad I didn't die before I met you..."
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