Ah, where to begin?
On Friday, August 31st, 2012 we welcomed our first born,
Aaden Theodore Bethke into this world.
He was a surprise in the sense that he arrived 5 weeks before his due
date, and easily 2 weeks before we were thinking he’d get here. The events that led to his birth are frustrating
and miraculous at the same time.
We had our last scheduled ultrasound for 2:15pm that
afternoon. Since I had a “low-lying
placenta” they needed to look it over one last time to determine if we’d be
having a c-section or attempt a natural delivery. By this point (35weeks) I just wanted to
know! If we’d have a scheduled
C-section, we knew it would be between week 37 and 38, and we had a lot of
preparing left to do. We arrived, got
brought back to the room and settled in with the ultrasound tech. She took her time looking at baby’s
development from before. Checking the
organs, heartbeat, blood flow and fluid levels.
She purposely left the placenta to last.
She could tell early on that it would be difficult to get a good image
of where the placenta was in relation to the cervix. She tilted the bed back (head down feet up)
and tried for a good 5 minutes to get an image.
No luck. The baby was too big
this late in the pregnancy and with its head down in my hips, it was impossible
for her to get an accurate image for the doctors to make a decision off
of. The angled bed caused me to get
really hot (all the excess blood flows upwards), so the tech put the bed back
down. She was ready to give up, when all
of the sudden the Doctor that we’ve seen a few times came into the room. She was determined that she would get the
image, so they tilted the bed back again.
She (Dr) informed me that she would try to move the baby back into my
ribs (and farther away from my hips) while the tech tried again to get the
image. She claimed it wouldn’t hurt the
baby, and that it was worth a try. I
assumed they were the experts and that this was a safe thing to do. It was
extremely uncomfortable, even painful with the angle of the bed, the Dr
pressing on my large belly and the tech shoving the ultrasound wand further
into my lower abdomen. I’m so thankful
Aaron was there and experienced this with me.
I mentioned to the Dr and tech again that I was getting hot and
lightheaded. It was right around then
that the Dr’s expression changed to a shocked look. I didn’t understand at first, but I quickly
felt like I was peeing my pants. (I was
too embarrassed to say anything, thinking all the pushing caused me to lose
control of my bladder.) The Doctor calmly made the comment that there was some
bleeding internally that she could see, and then I stated “Oh, is that why it
feels like I’m wetting my pants?” It all
happened so quickly, but the Doctor had ruptured my placenta in the process of
trying to get the image. Within what
seemed like seconds, there was a whole team of people and a hospital bed being
shoved into the room. They were moving
me onto the bed and asking me a ton of questions to start the admission process
into the hospital. I still distinctly
remember hearing the Dr. make the recommendation that we have a c-section that
afternoon. She repeated it a few times
so Aaron and I could hear, as well as the medical staff bringing me to the
hospital. They needed a recommendation
in order to do the procedure since I wasn’t in labor.
I’m still so thankful Aaron was there. We had planned out our afternoon/evening to
go to the MN State Fair, so he was off from work that day. But it would have been so easy for us to have
other plans and I attend this appointment alone. He and I exchanged many looks between the
ultrasound room and the ride up to the hospital. I remember the anxiety, shock and general
un-easiness that I saw in his face. We
were completely in shock and had no idea how to respond to what was going
on. I kept trying to make light of the
situation and joke about how I wasn’t going to be able to go to the fair!
We got upstairs and into a hospital room about 2:50 pm. There was a dozen or so medical staff
swarming around, putting IV’s into my arms, taking my blood pressure, putting monitors
on the baby, asking me questions to admit me and determine who would treat me,
and getting me changed into the hospital clothes. Aaron and I were in such a state of shock,
all we could think was that we were supposed to be going to the State Fair that
afternoon! We had planned to spend the
holiday weekend buying the remaining things we needed for the baby, and
organizing the nursery. We were not
prepared to have our baby yet! Let alone
to have it arrive 5 weeks early!
Luckily, everything happened so fast the shock hadn’t turned into panic
or fear.
By 3:45 I was brought into the operating room, was getting
the epidural and getting talked through the procedure. It was a lot to handle, and the drugs plus a
big lunch at Culvers resulted in a nice man named Paul holding a bed pan next
to my face as I puked into it. By this
point, I had no feeling other than my arms and neck, so I could only move my
head to puke. Not that easy if you think
about it…
Aaron was brought in after they had cut me open (gross), and
was there by my head the whole time.
Within minutes I felt like I had a ton of bricks on my chest while they
were pulling our baby out! They
announced it was a boy and we heard him screaming. Aaron and I started crying of happiness as
all the medical staff said it was a good sign that he was making noise and
breathing. Aaron cut the cord, snapped
some pictures and then joined me again as they brought the little guy over for
me to see! Then they rushed him to the
NICU for assessment, and Aaron went with while they finished the procedure on
me. The Doctor that performed the
C-Section was amazing (not the same one that ruptured my placenta). She talked to me about the fair, our son, my
work and how I met Aaron. She was
informed that I don’t handle hospitals/needles/blood/etc well and she kept me
distracted from what was really going on.
Words cannot explain how thankful I was for everyone in that operating
room. Everyone was so kind, accommodating
and encouraging. They really calmed our
nerves/anxiety.
Before I knew it, I was in a hospital room in recovery and
Aaron had come in to tell me that our son was struggling to breathe on his
own. He had a SiPap machine put on, that
was helping him to breathe. He had
pictures to show me, and we took some time to let everything sink in. It would then be 8 LONG hours before I was
able to go back to the special care nursery and see our little boy again. By this point, he looked like a completely
different baby with all the wires, tubes and machines. We were informed that he was over stimulated,
and any noise, light or touch resulted in significant decreases in his oxygen
level and an increase in his heart rate.
They let me touch him for a moment and we just sat and stared at our
son. We decided on his name that night,
Aaden.
The rest of the weekend was a blur. Aaden made improvements, we got to hold him,
and we had a handful of visitors that came by the hospital. Aaron and I were thankful to know our little
boy would be okay, but that he’d have some extra time in the hospital and extra
precautions for the first year of his life once he came home. But we were just glad he would be OKAY.
Aaden stayed at the hospital for 13 days. He’s finally at home, eating well, and
sleeping great. We have to wake him up
every 3 hours to eat, and be sure that he avoids public outings, children and
large groups of people. Since he was a
preemie, and born with undeveloped lungs, he is extremely susceptible to
germs. With cold and flu season upon us,
and his lack of an immune system, we have to be really, really careful with
him. It’s been hard to stay all cooped
up inside with him, and be very selective and careful about who visits. Some friends/family are offended that we ask
if they are healthy, or don’t allow their children to visit with them. But I don’t care; if they can’t understand
then they can just be angry and annoyed with us. My priority is my son and his health, not their
ability to see and hold him. It’s been a
stressful 3 weeks, with definite highs and lows. But we are still so thankful that Aaden is
home, healthy and our adorable little boy!
While I wish he could have stayed put until at least 37
weeks, we’re thankful that he should be a perfectly healthy little boy. I’m frustrated with the Doctor that caused
his early arrival and since caused the additional anxiety and stress we endured
while Aaden was learning how to breathe and eat on his own at the
hospital. But at the same time, it’s a miracle that we
were already at the hospital we were planning on delivering at. I don’t think the placenta would have
ruptured on its own, but we’re lucky that we never had to find out if that
would have happened. I can’t even
imagine how traumatic the experience would have been had it ruptured at the
fair that day, or while I was at work.
It’s a birth story for the books. And poor Aaden will hear it for the rest of
his life. J
