HELLP

Thursday night I had a blessing from my bishop to "know when to ask for help"

My brothers joke that that was a bad choice of words.

I spent much of that night talking to my wonderful nurse. She had twin grandbabies about to graduate the NICU. She had been there for their long journey and was able to fill my soul with the balm of empathy. She had such love and compassion to take time from her many duties to calm a troubled heart. I went to sleep with as much peace as possible.

24 weeks. Friday.

5am: I woke up from a stomach ache. Not something I would usually consider too troubling (had I been at home, I would have rolled over and forced myself to ignore it and go back to sleep), but I felt like I needed to alert the nurse. She took some labs and upped some dosages and gave me pain relief. By 7, it progressed to intolerable. I couldn't sit still, I felt like crawling out my skin to escape the pain. I text my husband to come immediately because I felt SO terrible. My medications were increased again and labs taken again. I'm not sure of the time but I believe around 8:30-9:00, I had relief. For about five minutes, I felt okay. Fine. I even text my husband back essentially saying "False alarm.. I'm fine, but stop by to pick something up for me please 😘"

I was not fine. My body was deteriorating faster than any drugs could keep up and the relief quickly melted away. I did not have enough left in me to send any further text updates, but luckily my husband did come ... and found me in an awful state.

So much of this remaining day is hazy or bits of memories filled in by others. At this point, I was truly starting to die. I developed HELLP syndrome quickly and my organs were shutting down. Months later, I was able to recall that at one point I started trying to vomit (but had an empty stomach), and lost all control of bodily fluids. I remember the OB and perinatologist coming in, letting me know I was headed to get a c-section. I think I only nodded, but remember thinking OF COURSE I AM, I'M DYING. (My inner self is rather yell-y. Actually, my outer self is too....)

They rolled me to the OR, and I had past the point of rejecting the pain, and I could feel my body giving up. I was laying on the hospital bed with my eyes closed and a nurse said "oh good, she is sleeping". YEAH, NO, I'M DYING.

I never saw the inside of the OR. I didn't have the proper consciousness to really open my eyes, or do anything of my own will. They did a spinal and laid me down. It went through my legs and stopped. They tried to start the c-section but I could still feel the cutting. While they got ready to do the general anesthesia, my bishop came in (he is an anesthesiologist and my sweet husband called him. He came in when he wasn't working literally just to hold my hand during the operation. Another tender mercy 😭).

(Fun side story: I love my ob. She is very sweet and tender and took care of us so much through this whole thing. She said when she first cut into my uterus, Kaio's little hand popped right up to say hi! She said she had never seen that before and it was so incredibly cute 💜)

While I was under, my poor husband was out of the loop. They dressed him all up to be able to come in during the c-section after the spinal was in. Since I had to be under general, he wasn't allowed in. To make matters worse, since it was an urgent situation, nobody had the time or thought to tell him what had happened. He sat outside for a time, suited up to go in, worried that we were both dead, and had no idea why he wasn't going in yet. When they realized he had been left, the NICU team brought my husband into the pass-through resuscitation room where baby Kaio would be cared for immediately after the birth. Dr. Cheatham had about 10 minutes to prepare him for what was going to happen: he explained gently that baby might not make it, and that he could probably touch him and take pictures (because it may be his only chance to spend time with him while he is alive). Baby Kaio was successfully intubated and taken to the NICU. My husband had to hear, see, and do all of that all alone while worried about my health. That is such a burden I cannot even imagine.

I woke up. Feeling awesome. No. Seriously. Despite the anti-seizure medication (and whatever else) they had going in my system, I felt close to a million times better. Those dumb placentas.

I asked my husband to text my boss to tell him what had happened (I had been working while on bedrest at the hospital). Then he told me how my friend from work came to visit just after I was wheeled away for surgery. Her response? "Well, shit." 😂No one could have summed it up better, friend. That was such a lighthearted spot of that day. Still makes me laugh.

They asked me if I wanted to see my son, but first they wanted to make sure I was comfortable. So, they shot me up with a bunch of pain meds and off we went to see Kaio.

... I don't remember it. I don't remember the first time I saw my son. The next thing I remember from that day was later that night, the second time I pumped, I got two ounces of colostrum (wow!😱).


Hellpy Birthday, Kaio. 🙈



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