Whew Baby

I won’t lie to you franns, when I get a text like that I just about die. You never really know what’s going to be said and my mind flies a mile a minute! 

I do a wonderfully terrible job of speculating. I imagine the worst possible outcome, always. ALWAYS. The more variables, the worse my imagination gets. So say we see someone standing up in the moonroof of a car. You may think it looks fun or maybe they’re going to mess up their hair. I think the car will get rear ended, they’ll go flying, land in the road, and get run over.

I’m extreme. I catraphize like nobody's business. So you can only imagine what I was like when I thought about delivering Baby Sis. I was so convinced that I was going to die that I had my will drafted and purchased life insurance. 

I had already had a complicated pregnancy. A low lying placenta, chronic hypertension, A GLOBAL PANDEMIC. There was a lot going on but what transpired was never on my radar. 

Because of my hypertension, my doctor requested that I do regular non-stress tests, which had me visiting her office weekly. All the appointments started the same; a temperature check at the reception desk, pee in a cup, be taken to the scale, a blood pressure check, and finally strapped into the monitor. Seriously, they strap Velcro belts around your belly to hold the monitors in place and you lay there for 20+ minutes. 

November 3rd was supposed to be no different, but when the PA took my pressure she made a comment. There is nothing worse than a medical professional talking to themselves about you! She mumbled to herself, “hmm that’s high” as she removed the cuff and moved to strap me in. I was only kind of alarmed. Remember, I had hypertension, I had high blood pressure, of course my pressure was high! But she had never responded that way. 

I took a picture to capture the moment and scroll the interwebs while I waited on my doc. I thought about my nail appointment that afternoon and the list of things still to be done. And then in walks my doctor, she doesn’t check the monitor first but walks over and says, “I'm going to send you to triage.” 

Just 3 months after Baby Sis was born. It was supposed to be the first piece on the blog and really point to why we need to share our stories. Unfortunately, I couldn’t finish it. I wasn’t ready to talk about the BILLION things that happened trying to get Sis earthside. Delivery was nothing that I expected it to be and honestly neither was pregnancy. Now that Sis has made a full revolution around the sun, I think I’m finally ready to talk about the rest. 

Everything moved really fast and honestly, I didn’t really allow myself to feel the feels until almost two weeks later. Remember I went in on the 3rd for a routine appointment and the next thing I know I’m headed to triage. Which, at the time I didn’t really know what that meant but I knew it wasn’t great because I had to go in a wheelchair. Yes, they wheeled me to the elevator, out the front door and literally around the block to triage (the buildings weren’t connected). I actually waved to Cager from the sidewalk. 

He met me in triage and there I am in a hospital gown with a cup of pee. No one tells you how many times they take urine samples. A nurse comes in for the sample, and takes my blood pressure again. They don’t tell you everything up front, you just kind of wait. I don’t really remember if the nurse or a doctor told me, but the diagnosis was the dreaded p-word. Preeclampsia. 

Preeclampsia: A potentially dangerous pregnancy complication characterized by high blood pressure. Preeclampsia usually begins after 20 weeks of pregnancy in a woman whose blood pressure had been normal. It can lead to serious, even fatal, complications for both mother and baby.

They tried to make it sound like it was kind of okay, “preeclampsia without severe features”. It just means your pressure is high but not stroke level high. Because that’s one of the complications they’re most worried about. Severly high blood pressure can lead to a stroke or seizure, and subsequently death for mom and baby. Honestly all I said was “okay”, I didn’t really know what else to say. They hooked me up to an IV and explained that they’d keep me for a couple of days just for observation. A swab up my nose and a needle in my thigh. Another PA, another wheelchair. 

Not everything about this birth story is hard. There were some perks. We get off the elevator on the 11th floor and the PA says, “I won’t even tell you about your room, I just want you to see it.” & honey when I tell you I gasped! My jaw scraped the floor. She opens the door to reveal a sprawling room, one wall is completely windows. It overlooked a park and had a COMPLETELY unobstructed view of the lake. If it wasn’t for the IV in my wrist, I would have thought it was a resort! 

After getting settled in, my next thought was to call my sister. Before Toni was my best friend, she was my grown up and protector. I still turn to her in emergencies. This call was hard though. I wasn’t trying to be calm for my sake, but for hers. We lost our mom a few years back and she had been sick for sometime. It felt like I was making a bad news call about my mom. It really felt too familiar and I kind of felt bad. It wasn’t that I needed to protect her but I felt triggered in some ways and didn’t want to pass that on.

The only other person I remember calling was my boss. I have a habit of laughing when I’m upset and in high stress times. It makes me come across as psycho or super casual. I’m sure I laughed through that call, not sure how she took it though. If I notified anyone else it was via text (and trying to be casual about it). I didn’t have the capacity to interact really. Cager called or text a few other key people but we kept it pretty hush. We FaceTimed or talked to a couple of my women on my Dream Team but that was it. I tunneled in on the issue at hand, laughing about it, about the crazy way my day was unfolding.

In addition to worrying about my own health, there was Baby Sis to consider. I told you that they put a needle in my thigh back in triage. It was steroids. At this point in my pregnancy, I’m only 33 weeks, at 34 baby’s lungs can inflate on their own. They intended to speed up the development just in case she had to be delivered early & considering how fast things changed from day to day, it was better to be safe than sorry. Cager and I also met with a neonatologist. I appreciate the hospital’s proactiveness and at the same time that was a tough conversation. The doctor (in the nicest way possible) was trying to set our expectations as low as possible while remaining positive:

“You’re already started on steroids so we’re hoping her lungs will be able to inflate on their own.” 

“There will be a lot of people in the delivery room; a team for you and one for her - just in case she needs assistance.”

“You should expect that she probably won’t be breathing on her own and that you won’t get to hold her right away. We’ll need to get her checked out.”

“She’ll be admitted to the NICU and we tell parent’s that baby will likely go home at their due date”. 

You see - positive but low. They were hopeful she would be okay, but not too okay. Really without second thought, Sis became my singular focus. And not to seem like some deep super mom, I think it was more of an animalistic protect-my-baby instinct, than thoughtful mom-ing. Keeping her safe would trump my feelings for the next 2 weeks.

I want to tell you it got better but all I got was silver linings. I was considered an outpatient so my visitation rules were different (it's still a pandemic). Cager couldn’t stay overnight so that meant being there alone. I swore I’d be fine, I didn't have any choice but to be. I don’t know if it was maternal instinct or an animalistic instinct to protect myself but I wasn’t letting myself appear vulnerable; that was until I was alone and sleep deprived. Somewhere around midnight I started to freak out. I know what panic feels like and I was spiraling. None of my coping strategies were working. By 1am I had to ask for help. Usually I have a weighted blanket or Cager to do compression for me, but I’m alone. So I got the courage to call the nurse. I wish I knew this woman’s name or sent her flowers immediately but she was my calm. She sat down and held my hand while the panic took over. Deep crying. Slow breathing. And kind words. At about 2 am she offered me something to help me sleep and I was out. & I definitely called Cager the next morning requesting my weighted blanket.

The next few mornings were about the same. Vitals, ordering room service, a resident updating me, Cager visits. (Also this hospital had A TON of black women residents and I was into it!) I can’t really say how many days went by before my sister arrived. But she was literally on the next plane to me. My sister must have arrived Wednesday because she originally missed the first plane (that she booked the same day). I never asked her what made her come so quickly - but loss does make me a little more desperate to capture moments with my loves. It was good that she came when she did though, because it would be the only time she would see me pregnant in person.

That afternoon, my OB thought I might be able to go home for the weekend, and then she’d see me twice a week instead of once. By Thursday afternoon, she had decided to keep me through the weekend and schedule an induction on Sunday so that I'd be ready to deliver on Monday. You see she wasn’t on call that weekend so, if I was ready on Monday she could deliver me. 

I had really been hoping to get out of the hospital before the weekend. I was supposed to get my nails done, get a fresh haircut, and blow (masked) kisses at my family and friends for my baby shower that Saturday. When I realized I wouldn’t make it in person, I figured I could Zoom in, and we’d make up some kockamayme story about my doctor wanting me to stay away from people. But when Saturday morning came, the OB on call came to the room and said she didn’t think it was best to wait another day, they should get Sis out as soon as possible, I’d be induced that afternoon. I facetimed my friends (who threw the cutest driveway shower, btw) to tell them the news. They went from excited to stunned and literally carried on with the shower without me. Cager wasn’t even at the hospital when I got the news. I called him like, “have you left home yet? Cool, well bring the bags. We’re doing this today.” 

I ordered room service; my last chance to eat before they took me to labor and delivery. Tried to do some body maintenance because I never got around to scheduling that pre-baby wax. And tried to be cool with having a baby so quickly. When Cager met me at the hospital he had flowers in tow; lillies for me and my mama, lavender for Sis, and what he thought was “just because” sunflowers. Sunflowers, my grandmother’s favorite flowers. In his hand, he carried symbols of my lineage. My ancestors and my heir in flower form. My sister called and I told her the news and about the flowers to which she responded, “well I’m on my way so we can pray, since the ancestors are in the room”. Silver-linings. 

Loud screaming in hospital corridors is usually a bad thing, but this time it was cheers of joy. As the nurse arrives to wheel me to labor and delivery, we find out that Joseph R Biden has been declared the 46th president of the United States. It was quite the relief. We watched Vice President Elect Kamala Harris give her address as my cervix was being thinned. Cager and I actually made a little video telling Sis she was coming on a really historic day. 

While history was being written, I was getting a crash course in birthing. I hadn’t done any research on preeclampsia or inductions. In my birth plan, I explicitly wrote that I didn’t want to be induced. But here's the highlight reel of an induction with a side of preeclampsia: 

• Magnesium in my IV to reduce my chances of stroke. It also acts as a muscle relaxant, so you’re bedridden for the labor.

• A balloon in your cervix to stretch it, and a pill in your v-canal to help you contract to pass the thing. (it didn’t hurt THAT bad going in! But, BAYBEE! It hurt like a b**** on the way out! I thought I was dying.) 

• A catheter. I didn’t feel it in comparison to the balloon. But the sensation that you're peeing but not is kind of weird. 

• Pitocin. A drug to help you contract after you pass the balloon. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get this right away. They give you like 4 hours to pass the balloon before they give you pitocin; I passed it in 45 mins and just had to wait around for a bit. 

• The Bloody Show. You can google that one. I thought that it was my water breaking but no honey. You just kind of expel several things before the kid.

• Contractions in waves. Contractions that I didn’t notice. And contractions that took my breath away.

• And all the while, HONGRY! All I could “eat” was popsicles, juice, broth... nothing that would stick. 

I had intended to labor without medication. Not because I wanted to prove how “tough” I was. I just hated the idea of being out of control. It's a funny thing to say now, because I was CLEARLY NEVER in control of anything. I got through the first few hours of contractions just fine. There were some that I just didn’t notice, some that felt like period cramps, and then some I really had to breathe through. The latter posed the biggest problem because I really couldn’t move much to cope. I was attached to an IV of magnesium that made my muscles so weak I had to stay in the bed, a blood pressure cuff that ran like every 15-30 minutes, a tube in my urethra, and belted at the belly to monitor Sis. I couldn’t pick my nose without a nurse seeing it on the monitor. 

My natural response to a strong contraction was to fold forward. Unfortunately that moved the monitor watching Sis and prompted a nurse to come in because her heart rate would dip or disappear. Now, if you know me, you know I only like to be touched on my own terms. I hate obligatory hugs or even shaking hands if you give me the willies. So imagine how annoyed I was at this nurse adjusting the monitor touching my belly and constantly telling me to “breathe” while I’m doubled over. Cager still laughs at the whole sitch, and swears I told her to stop touching me. I don’t remember that, maybe a death glare but that's it!. Anyway, I got tired of being touched and having no real way to cope with contractions so at some point in the early morning I finally agreed to get an epidural. 

It was only a few weeks ago that I actually saw what getting an epidural entails and I am so glad I didn’t see it before. The anesthesiologist comes in, you sign your life away, and then they stick a big needle in your back. Oh, and you have to be perfectly still. Alright so boom, I’m holding a pillow, holding my breath, and my back is burning because that needle is thick! And then nothing. NOTHING. That man asked if I felt that and I still have no clue what he did. After that I just laid back and napped. Because what else can you do when you're plugged in, numb from the ribs down, and nobody else is awake but God? So I slept until they woke me. 

Somewhere around 3am, the OB came in. She was a nice lady but also the bearer of bad news. My labor had stalled. They were having a hard time keeping up with Sis on the monitor. She thought it was best to head to the OR and that meant a cesarean, the last thing I wanted. I had never had surgery, and I had been concerned that I’d die in childbirth so cutting me open was a last resort in my mind. Or at least it had been. I just said okay. I don’t remember if I laughed but it seems like the thing I would do. Once I agreed, they hopped on it! Another document to sign, a hospital shower cap, and transferred to another bed. They really wheel you down the halls through double doors and into the OR. I felt like I was on an episode of Grey’s. 

I must have been desperately exhausted because the next few moments exist in my memory as a couple of minutes. I don't remember them setting up the OR, just that I had to keep my arms out on these tiny slates. I did ask the anesthesiologist how long it would take, lol. He was right at my head and I was getting nervous. There’s another blank, and then I heard her voice. I literally asked, “is that her?” It was my girl crying, something they said she probably would do. Cager just bursted into tears. They brought her to my head and there was my slimy, tiny, squish of a baby. I’m not sure how long it took to get her clean, but her father got to hold her before they whisked her to the NICU.

Now while we’re in our feels about Sis, I am on the table gaping open. Like guts on the table. You’re numb and feeling deep joy, you don’t even consider the fact that your body has a new hole until they tell you that they’re going to close you up. At this point, Sis is gone and it's just me, Cager and the doctors. And then I feel it. I thought I could feel them stitching me close. I’m limp and panicking! LIke, “Please stop! Stop! I can feel it!” The doctors are like, we aren’t doing anything. What do you feel? Where is it?” Baby, I felt a needle pulling thread! The surgeon is like, “Can we get her something?” The anesthesiologist is telling someone to go get something, while he pushes something else through my IV. “Paris, how are you feeling now?” “My legs are warm.” “She’s good.” And I’m out.

My next memory is of me pulling the oxygen out of my nose in recovery. “Ma’am, can you put that back?” I may have been awake when they wheeled me to my room but that part of my memory is blank too. I only remember being in my new room. 10th floor, 2 walls of windows and this time it was a city view. It would be another 24 hours before I saw Baby Sis again. Even though she was doing well, I wasn’t out of the woods yet. I was still at risk of stroke, so it would require another day of magnesium and bed rest. When I was finally able to leave the bed, I was slow going, feeling like a ton of bricks, but determined to see my little one. 

Sis and I were both patients of the hospital but living in separate floors. For a few days, I couldn’t go see her on my own. I had to wheeled to her room. Maybe around the 4th or 5th day I could shuffle down there on my own. & I do mean shuffling. One night in particular, I went alone, slow moving, breast milk in my pants pockets, trying to make it for her next feeding. I’m pretty sure I missed the feeding and she was already back to sleep by the time I got there. My medication and pumping schedule (and sloth like movement) didn’t always line up with feedings. Either way, there I am in her warm room gazing at my child through a plastic cage. The feelings I had put on hold caught up to me and I lost it. Sobbing about the experience I had, the fantasy I had lost, & missing my mom. I even blamed myself for Sis’s early delivery. It was so layered and so heavy. Once I regained some composure, I took her out and held her until I had to leave again, trying to find my strength in her. 

Sis would end up staying in the NICU for 10 days, 4 of which I would already be discharged for. I actually went home on the anniversary of my mother’s death (there was a lot going on). In that short window there were a lot of feelings: joy, guilt, sadness, and grief. It stemmed from this deep love for Baby Sis. Even though I was overwhelmed with my own recovery, I was so excited when I got the call that she could come home. Cager and I actually put on decent clothes to go pick her up. Like we needed to look the part. We packed up her room (sooo many freebies, they have to throw out anything left in your room so they just let you take it) and cuddled with her. There’s a whole check out process that literally ends with a nurse escorting you out. Seriously, they don’t let you carry out your own baby. 

The months to follow would be so hard. Grief, PTSD, PPD, PPA, ABC, 123, ALLADAT. And at the very same time I was more in love with my kid, Cager, and my sister (who stayed for 2 months) than I ever thought possible. It’s hard to think that Baby Sis has already been here a year and this is the first time that I’m getting anywhere near to telling the story in full. One day I’ll have Cager give his perspective - because he moved us into an apartment before the first week was done. Seriously it was a wild ride and I can barely tell it all.