Mom to Silas Hunter
July 23, 2011 – August 1, 2011
I started having Braxton Hicks at around 19 weeks. Nothing to be worried about, except once after we moved. I was having them for a good 45 minutes about every 4-5 minutes. I called my doctor and we stopped them. About 2 weeks later (maybe sooner, it’s all been a rush), I woke up about 6:15am with Braxton Hicks…the ones I had gone to bed with. But then I started getting pains..”Oh crap, I’m constipated.” These pains, oh my goodness, they kept getting worse. I went downstairs and tried to walk around, drink water, and I laid down. Boyfriend was upstairs in bed still, it was a Saturday. About 11 or so, I woke him up because I couldn’t take it anymore. I called Labor & Delivery and they told me to get some Milk of Magnesia. My boyfriend ran to the store and got it, came back a half hour or so later, but it wasn’t working and the pain was getting worse.
I called my mom and she came over. She said by the way that I kept having the pains every few minutes that it looked like I was in labor. “Oh my God, I don’t want to have him today, I can’t!” She called Labor & Delivery (my doctor was on call there this day) and told them what was going on and they told me to come in to get checked. I had to pee before we left (at this point I couldn’t really walk without stopping when the pain came). I called my mom into the bathroom because my shorts seemed to be wet and it wasn’t pee. It was, you guessed it, my water. It hadn’t broken, but it was definitely leaking.
We got to the hospital (after stopping to get gas, that was fun) and I had wiped my hand down below to make sure I wasn’t bleeding. Guess what? I was. I started to freak out. I’d read so much and I knew I was in labor. I got in a wheelchair. Oh my God, the pain. I had back labor, not fun. We got upstairs and they laid me on a bed to check me. “Oh, you’re 10cm dilated.” “Oh, he’s head down.” (He was head down at 19 weeks and stayed that way.) I asked if they could stop my labor even though I knew the answer. “You’re having this baby today.” I started freaking out. “Can he live now?” “Is he going to be okay?” “CAN’T YOU STOP IT?!” If you follow along carefully…you’ll notice that I labored naturally. Yes, fun. But it’s what I wanted, I just didn’t have a choice if I wanted to change my mind, ha ha.
They rolled me into the delivery room and checked me, I was fully dilated and effaced, but my water hadn’t broken yet. She broke my water (gross feeling) and it just kept gushing. I pushed for a good 25 minutes, and at this point I had to have a oxygen mask put on because between trying to push and panicking my arms were going numb. I was trying to hold my legs up with numb arms. Yeah, that sucked. (My arms were numb from hyperventilating.)
They finally let me take a break and told me to wait until I felt like I needed to push. His head was right there, they had put a heart monitor on his head, but he just didn’t want to come out. She was trying to stretch me to get his head out and that hurt worse than the contractions! I tried pushing again for another 15-20 minutes (I can’t tell you the times anymore) and his heart rate started to drop because I started to panic. During the break from pushing, they came to tell me the procedure for an emergency c-section and that I’d have to be put to sleep. They needed to tell me in case I needed one so that they wouldn’t waste time IF I did. This put me into a panic which I believe in turn caused all of this. I freaked out, I’m terrified of being put to sleep. I started screaming. They wouldn’t let my mom or my boyfriend come back with me.
They rolled me into the operating room and eventually I just laid there. I knew I had no choice. They put a mask on my face, this really nice nurse talked to me and held my hand. I felt like I was suffocating. The mask…I couldn’t breathe. Then another nurse pushed on my throat and it started burning. I started to freak and try to tell them, but they said “Honey, we have to get him out. You’re going to sleep and we’re cutting you open, he’ll be out in 2-3 minutes.”
The next thing I knew I was waking up. My throat was sore, they had put a tube down my throat. I couldn’t feel my stomach, it was numb. They brought my little boy in. Oh my gosh, my little boy. He was 2 pounds 7 ounces, 11 inches long. Born at 1:47pm. I got to see him and touch him for a few minutes and then they rushed him to Children’s Hospital. I’ll end this story here because there is so much to add. But this is my glorious labor and delivery story. Silas Hunter was born (he actually only had a first name at this point).
I was in the hospital for 2 days before I demanded them to let me out so that I could go see my son. The hospital he was at was 45+ minutes away and I wanted to go. We stayed in the Ronald McDonald House across from our Children’s Hospital. I was terrified. I was still in shock from everything. The first time I walked through those doors, all I did was cry. I sobbed. You couldn’t understand a word I was saying and I was freaking out. When I first seen my son, I just stared. I didn’t want to touch him, I was scared. Through out the next week, I became so much closer to my son. He was doing so well. He’d needed 2 blood transfusions and was on a CPAP, but he was breathing room oxygen. All his x-rays were awesome. He was having a few problems with his heart rate dropping, but they were going back up if he was stimulated. He also had a little trouble with his bowels, but this, too, passed. He was eating breakmilk through a tube, he was doing awesome.
And then…on August 1st, my world turned more than upside down. I got a call at 5:10am. It was the hospital and my heart sank because I knew someone had to be wrong. My boyfriend was getting ready to leave for work and I felt horrible. He had to go, so my mom and I ran over to the hospital. He was starting to become stable at this point, so we went back over to try and get a little more sleep.
About 45 minutes later, I got another call. We ran to the hospital. Oh my God, I’ll never forget the sight, ever. I walked in. My poor baby, he had probably 7-8 people surrounding him and a doctor doing chest compressions. They had a bag over his face that left a horrible bruise. They told me he wasn’t going to make it. That they had tried all they could. I just about dropped to the ground. I screamed. Not me. Not my baby. No. It was NOT going to happen, he was fine. I sat in a chair and my mom held him because I just couldn’t do it. I called my boyfriend’s work and explained what happened, that he had to come now. I can’t even imagine what was going through his mind.
I gave Silas back to my mom and the chaplain walked me down stairs. I walked to Donnie, and I cried. I held him and I told him he wasn’t going to make it. We walked the hardest and quietest walk ever, back up to that floor. We went in, and he held little Silas. And he cried. A little while after, we held him in our arms as they pulled the ventilator out. Silas passed away in Mommy’s and Daddy’s arms.
I cannot explain much more than this, but…the baby got an infection. And I’ve contacted a lawyer.
Stephine blogs at http://dearsilas.org.
You can contact her at email@example.com.