Preemie Birth Story Part One

As I am sitting here to write this, it’s March 2022. Authentically, honestly, and still frightened by our experience and I feel called to share. I have prayed about it and thought about it every day since she was born how to articulate the first moments of her entrance into the world. I am ready to share Kaylee Jane’s birth story the week of St. Patricks Day. This is exactly one year since we found out we were pregnant with her. Our rainbow baby girl. This one year anniversary is very special to me. It’s taken months for me to reflect and take a pause from our life to remember how this all started. I have notes from a little draft phone diary I kept in the hospital. I am thankful I did this because recalling how each moment occurred is fuzzy but the emotions are very raw and vivid.

From my diary

October 1, 2021 (10-1-2021)

2lbs 12 oz

16inches

5:40am

She stopped moving yesterday around noon, very alarming- I kept tabs on it and throughout the day felt really worried.

I think my last real movement ..hard real movement that was close to maybe her pressing or adjusting positions.

I was sitting in the rocking chair working from home, “there, she moved. That’s her right?” My internal dialogue.

Every morning I have this nervous wreck feeling like something’s wrong. I would frequently lay back in bed and roll side to side to get her to move for that sweet reassuring kick. She would always kick. My whole pregnancy she kicked but mornings she was typically quiet and especially during the day quieter if I was on my feet a lot. She kicked. Deep breath. Everything is fine.

 I had a later evening video shoot at The State Fair of Texas with my client for Frydays with Fernies. I felt baby adjusting position and thinking “ah finally, THERE she is” reflecting this morning. But also second guessing myself. Even now as I type this I struggle to know exactly. She was typically not active in the morning.. remember? My self talk was more concerning but also feeling silly about overthinking everything always. And I still do.

This was third trimester. Her movements had decreased & I remember thinking a few times the day before (Thursday) “ I wonder if she’s running out of room in there or she’s super low… she must be…. because the movement patterns changed.” Movements but lower, right?
I remember googling and wondering and many sites mentioned third trimester they go from strong kicks to slow stronger pressing movements or stretching. Right? I was scared but trying to hang onto anything there wasn’t a problem.

Then was no noticeable strong movements the remainder of the day Friday. They were infrequent and soft.

I went to work and thought more about it. Caleb and mom had fun at the fair, I continued with my video shoot. I anxiously thought about her in there more getting into the car “well it’s an hour drive she will be kicking me the whole time home.”

I had taken bites from the deep fried oreos thinking all this sweet stuff should make her kick.

I remember a tiny “maybe” kick as I seat belted in. “That was her. It was. I’m sure it was”

I’ll never forget the dark long car ride home, worrying. Overthinking.

Every hour I was worried but very much trying to trust maybe she’s just not comfortable?

I pressed different spots in my belly waiting for that familiar kick.. small flutters came.

At night I was second guessing around any movements and felt belly tightening, is she in there? I mentioned to Nick I was worried, he said ‘let’s go to sleep and see how she does tonight.’

She always kicks me non stop strong at night because she’s always so active. I fell asleep around midnight and woke up at 2, I’m typically up twice with her kicking at night. Nothing. Nick woke up with me, I started to have anxiety over wondering if I waited too long and now second guessing why I didn’t go in earlier that day. Why didn’t I go in just to check?!

 He talked to my belly, I rocked in the rocking chair, moving side to side on my belly, pressing my belly, very upset. I called the overnight on call doctor and left a message. “ if I don’t feel her in an hour we need to go in”

I waited 20 minutes laying on the bed left to right. My heart raced. There was nothing. No flutters, no kicks. Nothing.

Something is very very wrong. Nick googled it and looked concerned.

I went upstairs to tell mom we were leaving.. “mom I don’t feel the baby. I’m worried and going to get checked..keep Caleb sleeping.” My 11 year old has school in the morning.

“I’m so glad you’re going.. please call me when you get there honey”

By 4am we were in the car.

It was a quiet ride. Nick was comforting. “If anything we will be able to sleep knowing her heartbeat check is normal”

I told the front desk at the ER “I’m not feeling ANY movement. Really none at all. I’m almost 32 weeks”

They took me right back in a wheelchair.

I lifted my shirt, there was her heartbeat. Typing this I am taking the deepest breath thinking about that. I had a small moment of reassurance convinced we were ok.

“Something is wrong” they continued. They asked if I was dehydrated- or if I noticed any leaking fluid.
I couldn’t really make sense of why happened next- they brought the doctor in and she said looking at the monitor, “irregular heartbeat and no amniotic fluid, she needs to come out ..now”

I looked at Nick, “please call mom.”

Please save my baby I whimpered and begged the doctor.

“Honey you did a very good thing. You saved her life by being here.. I can promise you that” she said quickly as she adjusted my monitor and quickly got on the phone. IUGR. Intrauterine Growth Restriction. Something happened to my placenta, the blood flow was cut off in some way. At this point we didn’t know that, but it’s terrifying to know she didn’t have the proper placenta nourishment for who knows how long.

God was with us. God is with us. God has a plan for our baby. 

Nick and I slowly try to recall the next hour. 

All I remember is slow moments, I’ll do my best to recall but the most prominent is her little squeaks and God’s perfect delivery for my preemie baby girl.

Somewhere around 5AM:

There was paperwork as they IV’d me. And they made sure I agreed to medical attention for our baby girl. 

The c section team was truly so positive and sweet.

“You did the right thing by coming in. We will save her”

“You’re here that’s all that matters”

They swabbed me for covid. Negative. My mind quickly went there. If I had it, would they separate us?

They told me about the surgery as they added the lines to the catheters. 

I felt strong and weak at the same time. Strong in the sense I was ready to do anything for my baby, weak worried about if we had enough time. Weak thinking about how tiny she would be. “She’s going to be fine. She’s going to be a preemie”

Would I make it through emergency surgery?

“This is the worst part you will feel a bee sting.”

I felt the bee sting. 

“We are giving you steroids for her lungs even seconds will count for her to get this.”

How is that possible?

They brought Nick back to me.

He was in a white jumpsuit 

Oh my God. It felt real when I saw him. Help..what’s happening. 

Save our baby.

Taking a step back to think about losing her, I get choked up.
I just can’t describe how hopeful and out of control, truly out of body and on God’s course we were and are on.

Her squeaking sounds and then a little tiny cry. She’s alive her lungs are in tact. I thought about her tiny body. She had the strength to make a sound. Mommy is here. I couldn’t see her yet but I asked what position she was in.

She was head down. She was making her way out. She was low in my uterus. Alive with no fluid. My baby my baby.

They took my placenta for pathology testing.

What happened why did it stop working? How could this happen? Is this what happened with my last pregnancy? I guess not, because that cause was Turner syndrome positive. My heart aches. And I am recovering from that loss (12 weeks after confirmed pregnancy. Baby stopped growing at 8 weeks) I couldn’t think about that;

They were so positive and caring in the OR

I faintly remember being nervous about the feeling of the cutting into my uterus the anesthesia doctor was so upbeat and told me don’t worry you won’t feel it. He had the drape pulled up, he said they are pinching your belly do you feel that? Nope. He was right, I was numb. He said “this won’t hurt” I’ll feel pressure at some point. I faintly remember Nick coming in, wearing white scrubs. Handsome, masked. Concerned. Sweet. I was cold, and then very very hot.

I don’t remember what he said when he saw me laying there but it was comforting with his soft comforting voice. My arms were stretched out, I couldn’t feel anything.

 I asked him to take a picture of me- take a picture for my mom. Tell her I’m ok. 

The photo shows my pupils large my face pretty but concerned it was a good picture and it captures the experience really well- my face says I’m holding my breath I’m scared but Gods got this. It doesn’t show pain. My eyes are open and I’m ready no matter what.

The next photos are of our baby. She’s also eyes open and she’s swaddled looking at us. She’s perfect. I barely remember seeing her I’m so glad we have pictures the nurses asked and took photos with Nick’s phone. Precious moments of meeting our preemie. She looked like a fighter. She looked like she had been through alot.

She has hair, blonde hair. Big eyes. Full lips. She’s got Nick’s face and nose.

She’s perfect. I couldn’t feel emotion. I couldn’t cry. I cry reliving this moment and my heart is full. I also feel pain and anxiety. I feel guilt for not making it to 9 months. I wish I knew what went wrong.

Hearing her little sound when she came out, she was squeaking. “We will just call you squeakers won’t we” said a nurse. The world felt still.

Nick says there must have been 20 medical professionals in the operating room. 10 on the baby, 6 on me, a few keeping track of dad. NICU was right there to get her and they did. They swept off to the NICU.

My baby is ok. And she is big! She is strong. To me she was big, I don’t know what I was expecting, with all the week by week pictures on the ‘what to expect’ app I guess the shock of it all that there she is! A full baby, with perfect hands and feet and her face, honestly her little expression was funny to see kind of like an unimpressed look or an inconvenienced look, well I am here, and here I am! Cuddle me!”

That’s all I wanted to do. 

She was bundled in white and a little pink and blue hat.

I can’t imagine what it must be like to be all warm in a dark cozy uterus and then brought into this world with a bright light and doctors pulling you out. 

“She is small. She’s much smaller than she should be, but she will be alright” said a nurse

“How small?” I exclaimed

“2 pounds, 11 ounces.. she’s a fiesty one. 16 inches”

My heart dropped. How malnourished was she to be that tiny? My uterus stopped working? How did the fluid leave my body so quickly? What happened???

First 24 hours

She was born at 5:20AM

2 pounds 12 oz

16 inches

Almost 32 weeks but they are saying 32 weeks 

She’s small.

Her size for 32 weeks was small she should be closer to 3 1/2. They said she was 32 gestation but without the fluid for days perhaps she wasn’t getting the nutrients for proper growth.

My whole body gets cold thinking about this. It’s hurts I was supposed to provide for her and didn’t know or could fix this. It’s an un nerving feeling to not have the control over what could or should have happened to prevent this, and I’ve got more questions than answers at this point. 

She is beautiful, and I couldn’t believe how much hair she had already. No wonder I had so much heartburn.

She is an absolute miracle.

“She’s a preemie” they told us.

I had predicted she would be born in December. She was due on Thanksgiving Day and here we were the first day of October. How.. on.. earth.
There’s a Christian saying about when we make plans God laughs or something. I’d like to think this was on my mind but I was so shaken up I didn’t know what to think. I wanted my baby, I wanted to be with my baby.

Nick told the nurses he felt light headed right after he saw Kaylee. I don’t know what he saw but I am sure the thought of the other side of the curtain wasn’t a great one. I could see blood splatters on the blue curtain. I tried not to focus on that. I felt nauseous. Then my doctor popped over. How did she get here? “It took me 20 minutes but I made it just as they cut you open” she told me. The on call doctor started my surgery and my doctor was able to pull her out.

What a morning. I am so grateful for the emergency team. They were so positive and kind. I didn’t feel the panic I am sure they felt. Especially the anesthesiologist. What a precious soul.

This is so heavy for me to write and having Kaylee Jane right here on my chest, with me is the best healing therapy for both of us. She was supposed to be inside me for 2 full months and we were robbed of that.. but I will make up for it. Unlimited cuddles. Unlimited. There’s no limit. She always wants to be held. I always hold her. Even to sleep she prefers to be on my chest. I love her so much. I don’t take a second for granted with my kids.

She is on track weight wise and knowing what I know now is THE absolute gift from God. I had no idea how to raise a preemie and recalling our journey to get here is painful and strengthening all at the same time.. if that makes sense.

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