Physician's Week

Having a child in the NICU is a life changing experience. As cliche and overused as that phrase is, the ordeal of my pregnancy with Nick and all the emotions I’ve felt so intensely over the past few weeks have changed my perspective on a lot of things. One of which is my relationship with and appreciation for the doctors that cared for Nick and I.

Prior to getting pregnant with Nick, my relationship with doctors have been very generic: I saw my family doctor when I was sick, he would write me a prescription, and that was that until next time. Cory was still in the Army when we had Annabelle and Graham, so we had different OBs in different states for their deliveries. I imagine there was  nothing noteworthy from a doctor’s perspective about my care leading up to their deliveries, which were both so easy and laid back that when I was pushing with Annabelle, the OB was having one of the nurses text her son on her phone for her and read aloud his replies (he was on his honeymoon, and I pushed for an hour and a half with Belle, so it wasn't totally strange.)

In November and December, when I was in the hospital, I think I was too busy to really process how at risk my pregnancy was and how badly it could have ended. Yes, I was having these freak bleeding episodes that no one could really explain, but I had sub plans to finish and child care to coordinate, and, because the bleeding always eventually stopped, I more or less brushed off the episodes as more annoyances than true threats to Nick's well being. Also, up until about 24 hours before Nick was born, since there was no way to predict when the bleeding would start again, my treatment plan basically consisted of Waiting and Seeing what my body would do next, along with bed rest. After I was hospitalized in December, when my pregnancy was more or less officially flagged as being high risk, I saw either my primary OB, the high risk doctor, or had an ultra sound every week. When I was in the hospital, I was seen by whatever OB was on call that day during their rounds, so we got to know everyone at the practice pretty well by the time Nick was born.

Though it was frustrating at times that my doctors couldn't offer a clear explanation or present an aggressive treatment plan other than Wait and See, I took it as a good sign that my pregnancy must not be too complex since they weren't keeping me indefinitely in the hospital (which was brought up when I was hospitalized in December.) After our appointment with my MFM specialist the day before Nick was born, I could tell our luck was running out, fast. Even though I knew the pain I had in my lower back two days before was a bad sign (hospital bed rest = lots of time to google symptoms,) I was expecting to be told to continue Waiting and Seeing. Instead, we started talking about blood clots and side effects of babies born 10 weeks prematurely and the pros and cons of taking out the baby right then and there. The next morning, after a night of heavy bleeding and then a dramatic increase, it was ultimately our MFM doctor who made the call to move forward with the c-section , which was performed by the doctor on call that day.

In all of my life, I have never been in a position where I was as vulnerable as I was in those 24 hours. I had to put all of my faith in these doctors, and trust completely that they were making the right call and had the best interests of my child at heart. It is a humbling position to be in-to know that my body could no longer keep my child safe, and that if it wasn't for my doctors doing exactly what they did that day, things could have ended so tragically for us.

 A side effect of spending hours at a time holding Nick in the NICU is I have had plenty of time to research placental abruption. I read about women who have concealed abruptions, where the placenta detaches from the uterus but the bleeding is contained, so by the time they realize something is wrong it is already too late.  I’ve read the blogs of women who have lost a child to placental abruptions, and, while my blog shares the milestones and achievements Nick makes on his way out of the NICU, these women write in memory of the child they will never get the chance to raise. To know what could have happened if our doctors hadn't decided to keep me in the hospital so I would be steps away from the OR in case an emergency situation were to happen, if they hadn't known to give Nick the steroids to help his lungs develop, that I could easily be one of those mothers who never bring their baby home from the hospital is a humbling, emotional, and life changing reality. Maybe my delivery wasn't as dramatic to them as it was for me.  I'm sure they have seen placental abruption cases before, and I certainly never thought when I got pregnant with Nick that I would be thanking God every day for my OB. This experience inspires me to be a better teacher, and to be as great of a force for good in someone's life as our doctors are in mine.

I cannot imagine what it is like to be an OB, to see the worst kind of grief so regularly, but I don't want my blog to be totally gloom and doom and too dramatic. So on a happy note, this week the flu restrictions were lifted for everyone over 12. This means there have been more extended family in the NICU. Part of me feels sad to think that the babies here have to be kept away from the families that love them so fiercely, but one day they will go home. It's upsetting and beautiful at the same time to see the other mothers sleeping on the couches in their child's room, who are steadfastly seeing their child through the ups and downs of the NICU, and are waiting for the day they are finally allowed to bring their baby home and put the NICU firmly in their past. These women who had as dramatic a birth experience as I did, their families, and my family, owe the future of their child to our OBs. I hope that one day I can pay this beautiful gift forward.