I have
wanted to blog, but I have just not had the emotional strength to do so. The
last ten days have been the hardest of our lives. But, our journey has been an
open book from the start of this blog, and I wanted to share the rest of the
story regardless of how hard it is to sit down and actually type it out.
We got back
home from the fetal intervention on a Wednesday night. I stayed up pretty late
that night and posted a blog entry. We came home with such renewed hope and
excitement for our little Karalyn. We felt we had done everything we could on
our end, and we were so ready to just relax and enjoy the next 7 or 8 weeks
with our kiddos and each other until our precious little girl was scheduled to
arrive. When I went to bed that night, my legs were quite swollen, and I could
literally feel the swollenness up my legs. I have never felt that swollen
before, but it was better in the morning.
I went
ahead and called my nurse at my OB’s office at Children’s Mercy on Thursday
just to check in and ask about the swollenness. We decided it was probably due
to the traveling the day before, but I was told to watch it. My concerned and
loving hubby banned me to the couch Thursday night and told me to relax, prop
up my feet and stay put!
My
nurse called me the next morning (Friday) to check in on me again and see how
the swelling was doing. I had a little more swelling at one point in the day I
told her. I also told her how my belly felt really hard the night before. There
was no pain with it, and the hardness went away. She told me she could get me
into the office that day if I wanted to have them take a look. I told her no,
it had only happened once, and I wasn’t even sure if it was a contraction. She
told me that if I felt any change in my belly or felt any pain whatsoever, that
she wanted me to come in right away. With just having a fetal intervention and
the severity of Karalyn’s heart defects, she didn’t want me to take any chances
of going into pre-term labor. I don’t remember feeling anything on Friday.
Then, Saturday came.
At
about 3:00 p.m. Saturday, July 20, my hubby and I started noticing that my
belly was feeling very hard, but then it would relax. I felt no pain with this
whatsoever. I have never experienced contractions early in any of my other
pregnancies-the only time I felt contractions is when I woke up in active labor
with my other two daughters. We were a bit worried, so I was banned to the
couch… again.
Mark’s
brother and sister-in-law were coming for dinner and to hang out that night.
When they came, we told them what was going on and how we were debating on
whether or not to go into Children’s Mercy to be monitored. We figured maybe I
was having some Braxton Hicks or something, and they’d probably just tell me to
go home, drink water and relax.
We
decided to go in. We didn’t want to take any chances. My hubby’s brother and
sister-in-law stayed at our house with our two kiddos and their two kiddos. We
drove the 30 minutes to Children’s Mercy. I continued feeling contractions this
whole time, but they were never painful. We had called CMH in advance to let
them know we were coming in, and we had our “patient passport” to get into the
hospital since normally this is a hospital for only children, not pregnant
mommas. We got to the hospital, showed our little “patient passport” card to
security, received our security stickers to wear and headed up to Fetal Health
on the third floor. It was about 6:45 p.m. Saturday, July 20.
I put
on the hospital gown and got into the hospital bed. They hooked me up to
monitor my contractions. I was definitely having contractions. They were about
two minutes apart. They checked to see if I was dilated at all. I was a 1 and
about 50-60% effaced. I felt hopeful since I was only at a 1 so far. Once I was
in the hospital, I started to actually feel a bit of pain from the
contractions. CMH is connected to an adult’s hospital called Truman Medical
Center. They decided to transfer me there (they have a connecting hallway
between the hospitals) to be monitored and start medications. There were
several reasons for the transfer. 1. Children’s normally doesn’t deliver
babies-only ones where they would need immediate intervention for their heart
(we knew if I ended up delivering this day, then CMH would not be able to do
any immediate intervention for her heart due to her being so early and too
small). They have only delivered about 200 babies in the last two years. I
would have had a scheduled c-section at CMH had we made it full term because
Karalyn would have still most likely needed immediate intervention. 2. Children’s
Mercy does not do VBAC’s (vaginal birth after cesarean). I had a c-section (not
scheduled) with my first daughter and then a VBAC with my second daughter. We
knew that if I actually ended up having to deliver her now, that I would go
ahead and do a VBAC instead of a c-section. There was no benefit at this point
to do a c-section delivery. And, unfortunately, we knew her odds of doing well
if she were born this early were not good-we didn’t want me to go through a
c-section if not beneficial to our baby. If we ended up delivering at Truman,
they would stabilize the baby and then transfer her right back over to CMH. CMH
explained everything that would probably happen once we got over to Truman.
They were hoping to get my contractions stopped.
They
wheeled me over to Truman. Once there, it took them awhile to get my saline IV
going and get me hooked up to the contractions monitor. Then they also gave me
a steroid shot for the baby’s lungs (thanks Katie for the advice of icing to
numb my bum first-it really helped it not hurt nearly as much as it was
supposed to!). Finally, we were settled in for the night. They said they would
be keeping me until at least Monday afternoon. Mark’s parents headed to our
house from Topeka to relieve my hubby’s brother and sister-in-law so they could
get their kiddos home. A couple of my girlfriends came in and visited us that
first night as well and brought me food since I had missed dinner. They kept us
company, shared scripture with us and prayed with us.
That
night was not very restful. My contractions became more painful, and they still
seemed to be coming every 2-5 minutes. Finally at around 3 a.m., our nurse and
my hubby decided that I should really probably be checked again to see if I had
dilated more. We were trying not to check me too often because we didn’t want
to encourage any more contractions. They could tell my demeanor had changed,
and I was having to breathe through contractions and feeling much pain. I
always hate having to rate my pain. One reason is because I have been told I
have a high pain tolerance. The other reason is because I hate to over rate my
pain incase it does get more painful, or I don’t want to under rate my pain and
then have my nurse not think my contractions are serious.
When
the OB came in to check me, I was at a 5 and 75% effaced. When we heard these
numbers come out of the OB’s mouth, my hubby and I just started crying. We
knew. We knew that at this rate (I usually go pretty quickly once in labor), we
were going to have this baby. They were not going to be able to stop my
contractions. I was too far gone at this point.
Once
they saw how far along I had progressed, they started me on magnesium (this was
to protect Karalyn’s brain, and it also has a side effect of relaxing your
uterus). They pumped me with a ton of it when they first started the IV, and
then it tapered off about 30 minutes later. Magnesium though makes you really
hot. They brought a fan into my room to have blow directly on me. I was so hot!
Then, the medication burns in your arm for that first 30 minutes. And, you just
feel downright weird/disoriented. They had to put a catheter in because I
wasn’t allowed out of bed once I had the magnesium because you are kind of
loopy on it and your body is not super stable. I also had blurred/double vision
while I was on it. My vision stayed messed up until they started weaning me off
of it right before delivery.
Then
they also gave me three shots in my hips of some type of medication that was
supposed to help relax my uterus in hopes of slowing/stopping contractions.
This did slow them down to about 7 minutes apart for the next few hours, and I
was able to get a little bit of sleep on and off over the next few hours. But,
it didn’t stop them by any means. I am not sure why they waited so long to give
me this medication. I remember getting some other medications, too, but I can’t
quite remember what they were or when I received them. It really is such a blur.
So, we waited.
Once the morning came (Sunday, July 21), my contractions started picking back
up. I didn’t really eat much that day because I didn’t want to be on a full
stomach knowing I could be possibly delivering that day.
My mom
and sister had already pre-planned a trip to fly out to our house this same
weekend. They were to fly in on Sunday and fly home on Wednesday. So, when they
landed in Kansas City Sunday morning, they just came straight to the hospital
(after getting completely lost, of course). They stayed with us most of the day
I believe and were there helping me through contractions. God’s timing is
amazing, and I know He had His hand in the fact that this just so happened to
be the weekend my mom and sis came to visit. He knew I needed them there during
this time.
About 3
p.m. the OB checked me again. I was now at an 8 and 80-90% effaced. They told
me I was definitely having this baby today. They brought the baby warmer in and
some other things from the NICU. I think it was then that they started
introducing different members of their medical team to me that would be in
there during delivery.
I am
not sure exactly when, but they eventually checked me again, and I was at a 9+
and basically 100% effaced. I was already feeling a small urge to push but was
waiting to get completely dilated and for my water to break. I was in so much
pain with my contractions and feeling the need to push (I did not have an
epidural), that I just asked them if they could go ahead and break my water. I
knew as soon as they did, I would probably need to push, and this baby was
coming regardless. They agreed. I had my mom and sis leave the room, as Mark
and I wanted to deliver her with just us two there and the doctors because we
knew her future was so uncertain (my mom and sis were in the room during
delivery of my first two daughters). So, they broke my water, and I of course
had to push immediately. But, of course, it seemed like it took them a century
to get ready for me to actually start pushing. They had to take the lower half
of my bed off, get the stirrups in place, get my legs up in them, etc., all
while I am in excruciating pain trying to hold little Karalyn in and not push.
Finally,
I was able to start pushing. I assumed this would be a pretty easy job given
she was going to be small due to only being 31 weeks and 2 days along. But, no,
of course it wasn’t. I ended up having to have an episiotomy because her head
would just not come out. Once I had the episiotomy, she literally shot across
the delivery room. The OB literally caught her in mid-air. My uterus decided to
not start contracting after delivery, so I ended up losing a lot of blood. It
took over an hour for them to get me stable with stitching the episiotomy and stopping
my body from losing blood and getting my uterus to start contracting. It was
actually pretty traumatic for me and my worst delivery experience to date.
Our
little Karalyn Elise was born Sunday, July 21, 2013, at 6:35 p.m. She weighed 4
lbs 6.6 oz. She was 16.5 inches long and had a head circumference of 12 inches.
Her oxygen levels were only at 19%... not good at all. Karalyn means strong; joy; song of happiness. Elise means pledged to God. She was a good-sized
baby for how early she was. She never cried. She never opened her eyes, she
never really even moved except a few times where she gasped trying to get her
lungs to open up. She never took a breath. They performed CPR on her, they
tried to get her on the ventilator several times, and they sprayed surfactant
into her lungs hoping that would get them to open up. Nothing worked. Her lungs
would just not respond. Eventually, they told us we needed to just hold her.
There was nothing more they could do for our sweet Karalyn. As I understand, there was too much fluid in her lungs, and they had just not developed well enough due to the heart defects. Mark held her most
of the time because I was still being worked on (they were working on me the
entire time she was alive). I held her briefly while she was still alive and
while I was being worked on. I did get to feel her heart beat against my chest.
I shared some skin-to-skin time with her. I saw her gasp for air once. I was in
so much pain due to the OB trying to get my uterus to start contracting and
then stitching me back together, that I did not get to hold Karalyn for very
long. I remember hearing the doctor go over to Mark to check her heart beat
again (they did this periodically). At 7:41 p.m., they no longer heard her
heart beating. She passed away in her daddy’s arms while her momma was still
being worked on in the delivery room. We were devastated and in complete and
utter shock.
They
eventually got me back together, and the room full of doctors cleared out. They
did her footprints for us and gave us a keepsake box that had a shirt, hat and
booties in it. They wrote her stats out on the little hospital card, and they
put a special sticker on our door to let everyone know that we had just lost
our child. We spent the rest of the night holding our sweet Karalyn, memorizing
her little face, hands and feet. Crying together. In shock of what had just
transpired. Was this a bad dream? Were we going to wake up from it soon? Oh how
I wish I could just wake up from this.
Once we
were ready, we had my mom, sis and my hubby’s parents and our two young
daughters come in to see us and Karalyn. Mackenzie (nearly 4 years old) was so
sweet. She said Karalyn was just perfect. We told her that Karalyn had to go to
heaven with Jesus. We had talked about this a lot with her prior to going into
labor because she understood and was so excited for her new baby sister, and we
wanted to prepare her that Jesus may take her to heaven when she’s born if the
doctors couldn’t fix her heart. Raegan (nearly 2 years old) cuddled her as
well. Stroking her head and of course trying to poke her in the eye. We also
had a photographer come in who I had been talking with prior to going into
labor. She is a professional photographer and volunteers her services for an
organization called Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep. She came in and took pictures
of us with Karalyn. It was so special, and I am so thankful that we have
beautiful pictures of our daughter to treasure forever.
We had
several other visitors that night that came to show their love and support and
also to pray over us. We were not alone. Finally the room cleared out for the
night. We were staring at reality straight in the face, and it hurt so badly. The
nurse said we could keep Karalyn as long as we wanted, so we did. She slept in
our room, actually, she slept cuddled in her momma’s arms in the hospital bed
all night long. I feel so blessed to have been able to sleep with her in my
arms. I am so glad we kept her as long as we did. Mark and I shared many tears
together that day. The next morning, we snuggled together in my hospital bed
with baby Karalyn nestled between us and just wept.
We had
several visitors the couple days we were in the hospital from friends and
family to our whole fetal health team at Children’s Mercy, which meant so much.
I shared sweet, tearful moments with some of my closest friends who have stuck
by our side through this entire journey, and they were able to meet our sweet
Karalyn who they had prayed so hard for over our entire pregnancy. At around
3:30 p.m. on Monday, the neonatal nurse came in and said we needed to start
saying our goodbyes to Karalyn. They wanted to take her in the next 30-45
minutes. They had originally told me I could keep her as long as I wanted-I
guess they didn’t realize this momma would literally keep her until forced to
let her go. It was time though. I don’t want to be too graphic, but little
Karalyn was continuing to worsen in color and other things, and we needed to
let her go. To not engrave in our brains the way she looked when we gave her to
the hospital, but to remember her when she was first born. The nurse gave us
our privacy, and we just held our sweet daughter and bawled. My mom was there
and thankfully captured some beautiful pictures of us with our baby as we said
goodbye. They are heart-wrenching pictures, but they capture the emotions of
the moment so beautifully.
I
remember just holding her, trying to memorize how she felt in my arms. Trying
to memorize every feature of her so I could engrave it in my memory forever. We
didn’t get to build a huge memory bank with Karalyn, we had a short 24 hours.
We tried to build our memories as much as we could. While we had her, we rocked
her, slept with her, swaddled her in a blanket that Children’s Mercy had given
us, took pictures, stroked her, kissed her, sang twinkle twinkle little star to
her, read her a book and just stared at this beautiful little girl who was now
in the arms of Jesus.
We
buzzed the nurse to let her know we were ready (as if you could ever be ready
for something like this). We put Karalyn in a hospital blanket so we could keep
the baby blanket with us. They swaddled her, and then they took her away. That
was it. I broke down of course. Here I was, stuck in this hospital where I had
just delivered, but I had no baby to care for. I was released the next morning.
They got us discharged first thing in the morning so we could get out asap. It
was so hard walking out of that room, the room where all of our memories were
made with our little Karalyn. Saying goodbye. Knowing she was still in the
hospital somewhere. Knowing we were headed to the funeral home to pick out her
urn (which is a beautiful pewter-colored heart that fits in the palm of your
hand and engraved with her name, date of birth and Psalm 139:13-16). Not what
you envision when you deliver your child. I still cannot believe this is how it
all went. It’s heartbreaking. We are heartbroken.
But, we
are not without hope. We know she is with Jesus. She has a perfect heart and
lungs. We know we will see her again someday. Oh, how I can’t wait for that
day! To scoop her up in my arms will be one of my greatest joys. I miss her
every single moment of every single day. I know that Christ will bring healing.
He is close to the brokenhearted. He will bring good out of this, and I believe
He already has. I don’t think the pain will ever go away, and I don’t think God
necessarily expects us to just toss the pain aside and be just as great as we
were before our loss. A huge chunk of my heart is now in Heaven. We will be
forever scarred. I will think about my sweet Karalyn every single day for the
rest of my life. I know time will help heal our hearts, but our hearts will
never be the same.
The
following week was very hard. I had all the normal things that happen after you
deliver-healing, bleeding, my milk came in, etc. My hubby and I celebrated our 9-year wedding anniversary three days after she passed away. We had to plan a celebration
service for our daughter and get everything ready for that. The service was
beautiful. The music we chose was beautiful, the sermon was beautiful, the letters
people read along with the individual letters me and my hubby wrote for Karalyn
were all beautiful. We spent time worshiping our Lord and Savior. We had a
balloon release and blew bubbles for Karalyn. It was sweet and beautiful. I
held it together during the service much better than I had thought I would. I
had been begging God for strength to get through it, and He heard my cry.
My mom
and sis basically took care of my kids for me that whole first week we were
home. One of my best friends went grocery shopping for us and had our house
stocked by the time we even got home from the hospital. Our church family
started a meal train, and we had dinner delivered that Tuesday night, and they
are continuing to deliver us meals Mon-Wed-Fri through the end of August! The
generosity of our church family has blown us away. They have definitely helped
share the weight of all of this. The flowers and cards started flooding in.
Such comfort was found in the words and encouragement of so many people.
Now,
Mark is back at work. The house is not filled full of family. We are back to “normal”
or at least for me, trying to figure out what “normal” is when you have
suffered such a tremendous loss. But, I wake up each day. Pray to God for
strength, hope and just to survive another day at this point. I take a shower.
I make our bed, and I go downstairs to start the day with the two beautiful
daughters I do have with me on this earth. It’s so hard balancing grief yet
trying to make the lives of your children still just as normal as before. I won’t
lie, I am a little distracted by grieving the loss of Karalyn. I would love to
just crawl in my bed and stay there all day long. But, I can’t. Life must go
on, and my girls need me today and every day. I have let the girls watch more
tv lately than I normally do. But, I think with each day I get up and do our “normal”
things, life will get better. I will never be “over” my grief and sadness of
the loss of Karalyn. But, I know God will bring me to a place of peace and
rest. I pick up my Bible, I do my quiet time, I read the promises of God, and I
know He will make those real in my life in time. It’s hard though because I
feel like because we had such a short time with her, that my emotions are what keep
me so closely connected to her now. If I give up allowing my emotions to
overwhelm me, then I feel like I will lose some of the closeness I feel to
Karalyn. Feeling so emotionally overwhelmed makes Karalyn feel so close and so
real. Already the memories of delivering her and spending the 24 hours with her
feel so far away. My emotions are the most real memories I have left I feel
like. I
was so ready to be a heart mama, and then all of a sudden that privilege was
taken away. I had spent so much time preparing for it, learning, researching,
asking questions-doing everything I could to become as knowledgeable as
possible so I could be the best advocate for Karalyn. I compare it to
basketball. I spent all this time perfecting skills, practicing, then I didn’t
even get to play in the game. I am grieving in lots of different ways-mainly
for Karalyn, but there are other things I am grieving in her loss like the fact
that I do not even get the chance to be her heart mama; saying goodbye to our
medical team at Children’s Mercy who have become like family to me; the fact
that I still wish I could finish out the last 7 weeks or so of our pregnancy,
to feel her roll around in my belly and to still have hope that this may all be
OK in the end. I don’t know if that makes sense or not, but it’s my truth.
So,
that basically brings me to today. Trying to find a new normal while having a
completely broken heart. It will come. One day at a time. Whether I want it to
or not, it will come. Normal with a shot of a forever broken heart. We love you
sweet Karalyn.
