When Mila Came
It’s hard to believe that just 10 months ago I was in the middle of taking 10 pregnancy tests and now I’m sitting in bed with a 10 day old baby sleeping and squeaking in the bassinet beside me. Since January, I had been carrying the most special gift, and this is the story of how she made it earth-side.
On Friday, October 15th, I went in for my 40 week OB appointment. I was actually over 40 weeks, but not quite to 41. They had made it clear that they didn’t want me carrying past 41, which was on that upcoming Tuesday. After another cervical check (which I hate, but was nothing compared to the rest of the weekend), and finding out I was still only a half centimeter dilated, the doctor decided he wanted me to have a non-stress test, something they typically call for if a woman is carrying past her due date. Because I was one of the last appointments of the day, he told me to go up to the hospital for the test; the office was closing down for the night. I asked him, “Why can’t I just stay up there if you’re just going to send me back up there in three days if she isn’t here?” And his reply was, “Because of COVID, we aren’t doing elective inductions right now. But nice try.” He sent Jake and I on our way, and I looked at my husband and jokingly told him, “Let’s go home and pack the car, because I’m not leaving that hospital without our baby.” And we did.
After arriving at the hospital, I met my matches with two super awesome nurses. I told them as well, “I’m not leaving here without my baby.” They laughed and told me the same thing my doctor told me earlier. “You’re not staying here,” they said. We had so much fun laughing and joking around waiting for the test to begin. Finally, the ultrasound tech arrived and we got to watch Mila suck on her hands non stop. It was awesome to be able to see her again, since the last time we saw her was at 27 weeks. The tech finished the test and packed up. After a short time, 6 people entered my room and I knew something was wrong. “You’re staying,” my nurses said, “and you’re getting induced.” I was both excited and confused. I knew it wasn’t my girlish charm that won them over. I asked them what changed and they told us that Mila failed the non-stress test. With every contraction that I was having, her heart wasn’t doing well. They needed to get her out.
They admitted us into a comfy room and we began the induction. They inserted cervadil, which would need to stay in place for 12 hours, and left us alone. I was okay for about an hour, but soon began to feel the worst pain of my life. It took my breath away, but I still managed to scream with every contraction. I never thought I’d be the one on the labor and delivery floor disturbing the peace, but there I was. They came in and gave me a shot of morphine in the leg. It didn’t touch the pain. They gave me two more shots of it through my IV – nothing. They came back in again and gave me fentanyl and it still didn’t help. Not an ounce of relief was brought by the hardest drugs I’d ever been given. I couldn’t sit or lay down, because it just made it worse. They offered me a bath, which I accepted, but unfortunately the hot water wasn’t working so it was lukewarm and disappointing. Jake was amazing. He stood up with me the entire night so I could lean on him and sleep standing up, like a horse. We agreed it was the longest night of both of our lives. The morning came, and they finally removed the cervadil and I had another cervical check. Dilated to 2. The worst night of my life and I had only progressed about a centimeter.
Soon, the sweetest midwife came in and asked me if I wanted an epidural. I never said yes to something so quickly in my life. I was never anti-epidural, I just wanted to give it a try without. I was in so much pain that my vision was blurry and my eyes couldn’t focus. They came in to give it to me and I finally experienced some relief, although I then wasn’t allowed to get out of bed. Because my body was finally able to relax, the midwife broke my water and I began to progress fairly quickly. Unfortunately after they started me on pitocin to increase contractions, the epidural failed and the pain came back worse than ever. My mom and Jake turned on my worship playlist, and tears fell from my eyes as this song was the first one to play. They came back in to re-do the epidural, but that doesn’t take away the pressure and the urges to push which is still extremely uncomfortable. The wait until I was far enough along to push was excruciating.
Finally, I couldn’t ignore the urge any longer and my body was pushing on it’s own. I begged for another check to see if I was far enough along and I finally was. I pushed for 4 hours, almost 5. I thought I was dying the entire time. I’ve never been so angry at God, because I couldn’t find him anywhere during that time. I prayed hard inside my head because I knew something was wrong. This wasn’t like any of the experiences that 50+ women had shared with me over the course of my pregnancy.
I was so thankful for Dr. Siddiqui, because every time he came in the room my body calmed down. He was doing everything he could to get her out. I saw wide eyed nurses standing around me as he tried harder and harder. I didn’t even care or want to know what was going on down there. My modesty was out the window. The pain began to send me into a panic attack as I desperately tried to tell my mom that I was dying. I was screaming to everyone that I couldn’t do it anymore. I’m sure they hear that a hundred times a day. But I was serious. I felt my body giving out piece by piece. Mila was so close, the doctor and my mom could see her head. He said, “This baby has a lot of black hair.” In the midst of the pain, I stopped and looked at Jake in disbelief. Black hair!? Where did that come from? We will never be able to live this down. Finally, I looked Dr. Siddiqui in the eyes and with as much strength as I could muster, I begged, “Please don’t make me do this anymore.”
He looked at the clock and realized what time it was. He also realized that baby Mila was stuck. My pelvis was too small and I wasn’t physically capable of delivering her naturally. It was too late to use the vacuum to get her out because her head was already swollen and getting worse as the minutes went on. He then explained to me that I would be having an emergency c-section. I didn’t care for an explanation, I just wanted her safe. I remember nodding my head at woodpecker speed as he spoke, which seemed like it took forever. Finally, they wheeled me down and began the numbing process. I loved the anesthesiologists that I had because they explained to me everything the doctor was doing as he was doing it. Until things started to go wrong.
“The baby is out,” the anesthesiologist said. And then I heard the doctor say, “Cord around the neck.” Waiting the 10 or so seconds until she finally screamed was the worst 10 seconds of my life. I couldn’t see what was going on, but I heard him say, “That makes sense. This is a big baby.” Finally, they took her over to the bassinet where I craned my neck to see her. What they don’t tell you about c-sections is that they literally pin your top half to the table so you can’t move. They weighed her and let Jake cut her umbilical cord. 8 pounds, 1 oz, and 21.5 inches long. They placed her on my chest and she began licking my face all over. “Meconium! Meconium! So much meconium,” my doctor was yelling. “Is she chorio?” I heard a nurse ask. “Yes,” said the doctor. Then they took my baby from me. Chorioamnionitis is a condition that can affect pregnant women. In this condition, bacteria infects the chorion and amnion (the membranes that surround the baby) and the amniotic fluid (in which the baby floats). This can lead to infections in both the mother and baby.
“What’s happening now?” I asked. The anesthesiologist said, “Well, the baby had her first bowel movement inside. They’re removing your uterus to try to repair it, and then they will try to put it back in.” Try? It seemed like everything that could possibly go wrong was happening to me.
A commotion was starting, they began injecting me with all sorts of drugs, and that’s when I knew something bad was happening. I was hemorrhaging. The white surgical light above me faded away and it was like I was transported into another world. Logic and the medical team tells me it was the drugs they had to give me, but I was sure that was what dying felt like. I saw things I don’t want to talk about, but I never felt such a sense of peace. I lost so much blood that I almost needed a transfusion. I don’t remember anything else.
Jake and Mila were okay, so they got to go back to the room where my mom was waiting for them. I wasn’t able to do skin to skin or hold her because they were fixing me up, so the nurses helped Jake do it and I’m glad he got to spend that time with her. I remember waking up in there later, begging for some kind of water or ice. My throat was swollen and almost closed from screaming. My mom showed me pictures of various things later on, including the first time I got to hold Mila “for real”, none of which I remember. The room was noisy with people running in and out. I longed for some peace and quiet, and was cussing out everyone that came in the room in my head. I just wanted them to leave my family alone so I could come down from the trauma. My senses were heightened and I was still trying to make sense of what just happened. I still had a fever of 104ish that they were trying to get down. They kept telling us to get some rest, but then kept knocking on the door every 15 minutes for one reason or another. Postpartum counselors, birth certificate people, lactation consultants, phlebotomists, nurses, all doing necessary parts of their job to help us, but it was all very overwhelming.
Dr. Siddiqui came in to visit us later in the day after things had calmed down, and explained to us again why everything happened the way it did. He told us that Mila was so stuck, it took him, and two nurses to dislodge her. One of them even had to get under the table and push. Because I lost so much blood, they put me on an iron drip hoping that my levels would go up on their own so I wouldn’t have to get a blood transfusion. I’m still taking iron supplements and slowly getting my coloring back. My skin and lips were completely white, then a homegirl turned yellow. My entire body was beaten up beyond belief. I could barely open my eyes because they were almost swollen shut. My legs were like tree trunks, and I could barely walk. At one point or another, I had every single different kind of catheter inserted. As time went on, and because of the amazing nurses (except for two, who I hope I never see again, haha) I began to regain my life force and start to feel like myself. Thankfully, Mila has been thriving and surpassing everyone’s expectations since she popped out. She never had any further issues.
Today, I feel normal. Last night, Mila slept for 5 hours, woke up to eat, and then slept for 3 more hours. I was finally able to sleep in my own bed after having my dressings removed. I have another appointment the day before Thanksgiving to check on me again, and if that goes well then I should be able to go back to work, drive, and do whatever I want again. To be honest, for now I just want to be left alone. I don’t want hugs, I don’t want visitors, I don’t want people telling me to “slow down” or to “rest”. I’m still processing everything that happened and my priority is bonding with Mila. Jake has one more week off with us and we want to spend it together privately as a family. Even writing this post has sucked the life out of me. Reliving the weekend makes me feel horrible. This is the only time I want to tell this story.
Looking back now, I see all the places where God was throughout the weekend. He never left us. God used everyone that was on staff that weekend to keep me and Mila here. His plan was better than mine. There are so many ways He showed up for us. For example, I said throughout my entire pregnancy that I was sure I’d end up with Dr. Siddiqui at the hospital for my delivery, and I didn’t want that because he was the one doctor that I never had the chance to meet. It turns out, Dr. Siddiqui has a reputation for being the very best doctor to perform c-sections. Everyone on the floor said how lucky I was that he was the one that was on. Even the doctor that I saw for the duration of my pregnancy says he is the best doctor in town. I absolutely loved him, and for any future pregnancies (which right now are out of the question) he will be the only doctor I go to. One thing is for sure, God was with us when Mila came.
