#5 hours later i called and was transferred 6 times - told she had been discharged - told she had never been registered at that hospital -

[kayvsworld]

i always forget i have Healthcare System Anxiety until i have to interact with The Healthcare System and immediately just start screaming internally for days

[thecampbellfam]

Alright, the infamous birth story is ready to be shared. A heads up that there are aspects of this story that are TMI (too much information) so read at your own risk. Birth can be messy. ;) It’s a long read so buckle up.

For the week leading up to D’s birth I experienced mild contractions and cramping. Baby was very low in my pelvis and my midwife said at my 38 week appointment that she anticipated me birthing prior to my 39 week appointment (spoiler alert: she was right!). On Sunday, March 21st I woke up to mild contractions. The contractions continued every 3-10 minutes from 6:30-9:30am. These abruptly stopped when the boys came in the bedroom and needed my help and attention while Nic had a shower. During the 3 hours of contractions I made the decision to cancel a lash extension appointment that I had later that day. I texted my housemate and friend, M, to see if she was free to help me power through the open jar orders that I had in case the labour picked up again.

I had a long lull between contractions so decided to capitalize on that time. M and I finished jar orders. I packed all the orders up and scheduled a Canada Post pick up for the next day. I baked myself some lactation cookies. And Nic and I cleaned the bathroom, did the dishes, washed laundry, put last minute items in the hospital bag, organized a few areas of the house, and kept the kids occupied. I had the odd contraction here or there but nothing consistent or overly painful.

By 4pm I was tired and decided to lay down. I looked up something called the Mile’s Circuit and decided to try out the recommended rest positions while I had a nap. The positions in the Mile’s Circuit are known to help reposition baby if they’re sitting off in your pelvis. This seemed to work because by 4:30pm I was having regular contractions again. Contractions were irregular in length and time between, but were coming. This continued ALL evening. The contractions started to get a bit more painful as the evening went on but were never rhythmic enough or painful enough to transfer to the hospital. I was in touch with my doula and midwife who confirmed the same information.

By 11:30pm I was exhausted, discouraged, and the contractions were beginning to get a bit more painful (though still irregular in length and time between). At midnight my doula, K, headed over. She was my saving grace. She encouraged me to labour in a few different positions, took me for a curb walk in the rain, and helped prop me up with pillows when I got tired in a way that would keep my pelvis open while I laid down. I asked her when I should head to the hospital and she said that though the contractions were strong, they were not quite rhythmic enough and I was still too coherent between them.

But at around 1:30am everything changed. I had 3-4 huge contractions laying down and then got up to use the washroom. There I entirely lost my mucus plug (up till that point I had had zero bloody show or fluid loss). I called out for K to tell her about the mucus plug, then stood up and immediately vomited excessively. I told K that we needed to leave now! Nic had been resting and quickly got up to help me to the car. Thankfully I’d had him load up the majority of our hospital items a few hours earlier *just in case* things went quickly.

By 1:54am we were on the road to the hospital with K trailing closely behind. We turned onto the main road and I had a big contraction that I couldn’t speak through while my midwife was trying to call me. When the contraction ended she said she’d meet me at the entrance of the ER. We passed a bridge and I reclined my seat as I had another massive contraction. With this one I started yelling in pain. My body was experiencing fetal ejection reflex and was trying to push baby out while I was simultaneously trying to fight to keep baby in. The feeling of fighting your own body’s urges is one I’ll never ever forget. After that contraction was an odd lull and for a moment I thought we’d make it to the hospital. However, the next contraction hit just as we were passing the pedestrian overpass along the Bypass. I yelled “Uh oh! Uh ohhh! <words I can’t repeat> Nic you need to pull over NOW!” He quickly pulled over, gestured for K to come to the car, and reached to help me. I was fully clothed and frantically needed help pulling my pants down. We got them down just enough as K came to my side. K saw that baby was crowning and with one big push she was out. K was there just in time to catch her. So at 2:05am baby girl was brought up to my chest and Nic and K quickly grabbed whatever they could from the backseat of the car to keep baby warm. A towel and Nic’s infamous highlighter yellow hoodie were the winners. K helped rub baby down to ensure she was warm and checked that she was breathing. From there we impulsively decided to continue on driving. We were in a place that would have taken an ambulance some time to get to plus it was 2am so there was nobody on the roads. I had something called Marginal Cord Insertion which can cause hemorrhaging with the birth of the placenta so I was keen to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Baby on my chest, cord still pulsing and placenta intact, and onward to the hospital we continued. It ended up being the calmest ride and I kept remarking at how amazing it was to have her out while Nic kept commenting on how insane and badass this all was. The relief of having baby girl out was incredible. I’ve been asked a lot if I have trauma from the car birth and I honestly don’t. It was such a relief to have baby out and that she and I were healthy.

We pulled up the hospital shortly after and were greeted by our midwife and a team of nurses ready with a wheelchair, warm towels and blankets. They helped me out of the car and then wheeled us up to the delivery floor. I was greeted by a lot of surprised and impressed nurses. Baby and I got checked over, the cord was cut, and I birthed the placenta. I was stitched up and then we spent a couple hours in the birthing room for monitoring. Afterwards we were transferred to a maternity room and spent a quiet morning and early afternoon snuggling baby girl, having cat naps, watching the sun come up, and even sneaking in a shower. Our short hospital stay was so calm and relaxing so I’m glad we weren’t discharged as early as I was initially hoping. Given that it was baby #3 for us the nursing staff really only came in to go over what’s required and we were largely left alone. Baby and I were deemed healthy and we were discharged at 2:30pm.

We took our time heading home to give my sister time to be there first. She photographed our oldest meeting his brother for the first time and offered to do the same when we brought baby girl home. The photos from both of these photoshoots are cherished and I’m beyond grateful for my sister making the time to capture them.

A few fun facts:

* I selfishly didn’t want to share my birthday with baby girl. Shared birthdays can be tricky and I wanted her birthdate to be her own. She was born 5 days after my birthday allowing us both our own days. I had told Nic that I wanted to be done having kids by 30 so her arriving 5 days past my 30th was pretty bang on.

* Midway through my pregnancy my midwife recommended that I pack an “if I birth in the car” kit for the car, given how quick my active labours were with my last two births. This recommendation put a bug in my ear that my baby could be born in the car.

* A week and a bit before baby girl was born I sobbed listened to a Birth Hour episode about a car birth. I often tear up listening to birth stories but this particular story struck me differently.

* Our doula knew things weren’t going great on the hospital drive because Nic kept slowing down and speeding up (which correlated with my contractions).

* Many have asked about how Nic’s car fared in the birth. This is wild. When Nic got home from work on Saturday he let the boys come out and play in the car for a few minutes with him. Our younger son accidentally left the passenger door open a crack. Not enough to drain the battery but enough for the passenger seat to get absolutely soaked in the overnight downpour. Nic saw that the seat was wet when he loaded up the car with hospital bags and put one of our (new) thick towels on the seat so that my butt wouldn’t get wet. When I was transferred to a wheelchair at the ER entrance, Nic lifted the towel and the seat was COMPLETELY DRY AND CLEAN!

* Baby girl was born at the perfect time. Nic was on his weekend, our housemates were free to watch the boys, K was available to attend the birth and my sister was free to photograph the boys meeting their sister.

* Registering baby’s birth was fun. I had to call up Vital Statistics who had to look on a map to figure out the postal code for the area that I birthed in, since she wasn’t born at a fixed address.

[losingitinjersey]

Ten days in and I’m officially in love.  Erp’s (extremely detailed) birth story coming atcha below.

Friday morning I woke up after having taken my first half dose of Unisome so I got the perfect night sleep with minimal grogginess in the morning.  Despite the good night sleep I felt off when I woke up.  Had some loose stools and slight nausea which was weird for me.  It made me take my time getting ready.  

I got the pleasure of seeing Kevin in the morning because he was going in for his surgery rotation exam so he had a later start time than his recent 4am mornings.  At 8:15 a.m. I was putting on a compression sock and the next thing I know I feel myself peeing/leaking on the fresh pad I just put on.  This was unexpected since I literally had just gone to the bathroom and this was too much wetness for a normal bladder leak, especially since I didn’t cough/sneeze/laugh to cause it.  Then some cramping started and I immediately started sobbing at the realization of what this meant and got myself to the bathroom immediately.  (all while wearing still just half of one compression sock)

I had been texting with my sister that morning (since she’s the only other person awake on the east coast that I text with prior to 8a.m.), told her earlier that I felt weird so she was the first person I texted that I think my water had broken.  She told me to call her immediately and she calmed me down and was so happy/excited for me.  She said she’d handle calling my mom (who it was 5a.m. for in California) and told me to call the OB’s office.  Mind you, Kevin is now 15 minutes into his exam and when he left that morning he said, “this will all be over in 6 hours” so I’m going into this thinking he’d be completely unreachable until 2 p.m.  I text my mother-in-law, as I’m waiting for a call back from the OB, to keep her updated and she immediately calls me and tells me to call an ambulance or get an Uber and to get to the hospital asap.  The fact that my pain was coming from my vagina and not lower back or abdomen had her worried and she wanted me checked out right away.

Even though I was in pain, and it was increasing, I didn’t think an ambulance was necessary so I texted my next door neighbor to see if she could drive me but she wasn’t responding.  Katie, my other neighbor, was in Jamaica so she wasn’t an option.  In the meantime, the OB office calls back, I describe what’s happening and she confirms that yes, I need to go to the hospital and she will meet me there.  Thankfully, the woman that’s on call is my favorite person out of the entire office of 15 providers, so I’m happy it’s her (Nell, a midwife).  Shortly after I hang up I order a Lyft and they were en route before I started getting myself dressed.  As we had planned to do all of our last minute prep work this weekend since Kevin would finally be done with his intense surgery rotation, we didn’t have a hospital bag packed.  I put on the only clothes that were clean(ish), comfy, and nearby, along with some slippers and took one last belly bump pic before locking up my house, saying goodbye to my cat (who was thoroughly freaked out due to my cries of pain), and waddling to the Lyft parked outside my house.  

I tried to act cool in the car not wanting the dude to know he was transferring a woman actively in labor to the hospital but there was a good chance he was aware given how stiffly I sat in his car and how my body language read not to talk to me.  Thankfully, the hospital is nearby and 15 minutes later he pulled up to the entrance and I got out of the car and started sobbing again.  I walk through the hospital doors and see the single security/registration guy and tell him I’m in labor and ask where I go.  He starts giving me directions and I just repeat back to him verbally and with my hand, “three?” and he confirms yes, third floor.  (Surprised he didn’t grab me a wheelchair or accompany me).  I make my way to the elevators, still sobbing, hit the button and head up to the third floor with a woman in scrubs also getting off on that floor.  I walk out of the elevator, stop and look around at all the signs trying to figure out where to go from here.  She tells me to turn left so I blindly walk that way alone.  I come to a door with a button so I hit the button and am buzzed in.  I’m now in a long hallway, not knowing where to go or why no one is helping this pregnant crying woman.  

I come up to a desk, eyes blurred with tears and see a sign in book so I grab the pen not sure what else to do and a woman behind the counter comes up so I look up at her, tell her I’m in labor and I don’t know what to do.  She then walks with me to a group of nurses and one of them walks me back into a room and has me sit down on a hospital bed, gets me a gown and talks me through a bunch of questions.  At one point she makes a comment about how I haven’t gone through any classes.  And I’m like, what?  Lady, I’ve gone to every single one.  She sounded surprised and asked why I was crying then.  Um, I’m alone and going through this for the first time - I’m allowed to express how I’m feeling and that feeling is incredibly scared.  

Nell comes in and checks where I’m at and it hurts really bad.  She says she can’t tell how dilated I am because something about how my cervix hasn’t gone through a pregnancy before but she did say that she could feel Erp’s head.  Which shocked me since at my appointment on Monday they commented about how high up the baby was.  At this point, I’m then left mostly alone to go through waves of contractions, which hurt far far far worse than I ever expected, with a nurse randomly coming in and out.  I’m given an IV and a few medications to curb the pain which were helpful but I definitely was still experiencing an exorbitant amount of discomfort and anguish.  

Finally around 10:30 a.m. they start talking about getting me an epidural which needed to wait until I had my blood work processed.  By 11 a.m. Kevin had arrived just as they started to administer my epidural.  I was really glad he was there even though I was so blinded by pain that I wasn’t able to do much but grip the bed rails and ride them out.  After my epidural took effect I felt SO MUCH BETTER.  I had this extreme euphoria that made me forget all the pain I had just experienced.  I remember even thinking to myself that it wasn’t that bad, I could totally get pregnant again asap.  

I’m then checked again and to everyone’s surprise I’m already dilated to a 10.  I couldn’t believe it.  From what I thought labor was like I thought it would take hours upon hours if not days to get to a 10, not 3 hours.  Nell has me hang out for an hour and a half while the epidural wore off so I could get some feeling back to start pushing.  Around 1 p.m. I start actively pushing in spurts with the help of Kevin and the nurse.  During this time, Kevin takes the 5-10 minute down times to work on completing the paper he has to submit by 4 p.m.  Remember that 6 hour time frame he told me about this morning?  That included writing a paper so while his test was done in 2.5 hours and he immediately came to the hospital after finishing the test and checking his phone (their phones and all belongings are kept in a separate room during exams so he didn’t realize I was in labor until after he finished the test).  So he was able to write, finish and submit his paper all while helping hold my legs and coaching me through pushing.  What a man!  

At 4:32 p.m. I made my final push (which hurt a lot more than the rest of the pushes) and out came Erp.  They placed this warm, slimy baby on my stomach (she had an incredibly short umbilical cord so that was as high as they could place her) and the first words out of my mouth were, “what the fuck.”   I “knew” a baby came at the end of this pregnancy but it was still so so so weird to now have this tiny creature with me.  Kevin cut the cord and they placed her on my chest as I came to grips with the fact that she’s ours.  The nurse was snapping pictures and they all came out with me having the most puzzled faces of disbelief but Kevin’s smile is beaming through :)  At birth her stats were 6lbs 14oz and 21 inches.  We stayed at the hospital for the next two days and were discharged the afternoon of Sunday, December 20th.  (also shown above is the intense rats nest in my hair from going through labor and staying in bed for two days)

I’ve gone through such intense waves of emotion since my water broke.  From extreme fear, to the highest high of happiness euphoria, to sobbing at just looking at her and realizing how blessed we are, to irritability and general moodiness, to very deep sorrow at the realization that I don’t get to stay home and live this life with her - that I have to go back to work in an extremely short time span and hand her off to a stranger (who’s to be determined).  I’ve never felt mood swings more powerful than this in my life and I’d be lying if I said things are all just peachy keen.  I’ve never experienced sleep deprivation like this nor this strength of hormone shifts.  Yes, we’re healthy and happy and incredibly blessed but this has been much more emotionally charged than I anticipated, both positively and negatively.  

On the whole, though, we’re doing really really well.  She’s a great baby who is above all healthy, rarely fussy, is a self soother, and loves snuggling.  She’s my little squish and I get excited every time I get to see her, which is at least every three hours due to her feeding schedule.  

Thank you all for sharing your support, love and excitement for us during this oh so exciting time!  

[kz-i-co]

10 Things I hate about you: Part VII

» Summary: Basically a sum up chapter, so sorry if it sux :(

» Pairing: Park Jimin/ Reader

» Genre: Angst/smut

» Words: 2k

» COMPLETED SERIES: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

» m.list ╫ bts masterlist

-

You didn't even want to go to work anymore. You called off the last two days in a row from how upset you were. You knew it was stupid and just move on but Mino became a good friend to you and you just hated to see it end so badly. He was the one pushing you away but you were a sensitive person so you couldn't stand anyone hating you.

When you finally did get the nerve to go to work again, you had to confront him.

At first you heard another girls voice so you hesitated but continued on knocking anyway. When the door opened he looked at you confused and angry once again. The girl behind him was buttoning up her blouse. Great.

"(Y/N)." She smiled. It was your old friend again. You knew she worked on the fourth floor but didn't know she was with him in that way. But some sense you felt like it was obvious.

She hugged you before leaving his office.

"You know each other....of course you do." He sat at his desk.

"I need an actual non work discussion with you and you're going to listen to me and stop being a dick for once."

He rolled his eyes. "This behavior you have towards me isn't fair....You knew I was in a relationship and you just turn around and bitch because I didn't choose you over him."

You could tell He was getting more angry but he was still listening.

"I really thought we were good friends for a moment there and you act so hostile towards me....I'm sorry for what I did but there is no reason to act like this....we are adults."

He got up from his desk and walked around. He leaned against the outside of his desk in front of you. His anger turned soft and apologetic.

"I going to need some time." He spoke.

"Time for what?" You raised your voice. "We were never together and-"

He cut you off with his lips on yours. You were so surprised you couldn't pull away, as much as you wanted to.

"Mino I forgot my-" The door opened revealing the girl you used to know.

You couldn't speak as she looked at you so crushed.

"Wow (Y/N) never would of known you turned into a slut." She said angry and slammed the door.

"Why did you do that?" You panicked.

"I just wanted one last time." He confessed. "Now go home to your boyfriend."

"Mino....please think about what I said.....I want you as my friend." You made it clear then shut the door.

.....

As the day rolled on, you never imagined it could get worse.

Yeri told everyone on her floor how much of a homewrecker you were and soon spread it to your floor. You never knew she was capable of such a horrible thing but once again never judge to quickly.

You felt a paper airplane strike your back and you grabbed it. It had 'slut' written all over it. You were stronger then this. You can't let anyone bother you no matter how hard it hurts.

You went to the bathroom and once again someone wrote '(y/n) is a slut.' This brought the tears that you have been holding in for hours.

You grabbed a napkin and erased the harsh message and quickly went to your boss's office.

"Ma'am can I please transfer." She noticed the tears in your eyes and the person in her chair turned around. It was Mino.

"What do you mean transfer?" She asked.

"I'll handle this mom." He got up and tugged you out of the office and pulled you into his old office.

"What's wrong?" He asked. "I'm sorry (y/n) Okay I didn't mean for this morning."

He didn't know what was going on. "Its not that."

"Then What?"

"Yeri saw what we did this morning and now she's spreading rumors that I'm a slut and now the whole building knows.....It was even written in the bathroom-"

"Don't panic.....I'll take care of it."

"Look (Y/N) your boyfriend is here....does he know you're a slut too." The girls laughed as a confused Jimin approached you.

"Ladies?" You saw Mino signal towards him. He gave you a hurtful smiled as he saw how upset you were. Jimin did the same immediately asking what was wrong.

"I told you that was the worst place to work, you're not going back." He argued as he drove you home.

"You're right." You shrugged.

"I'm calling your boss tomorrow and telling her that your taking a vacation for the week and then you're going in there and packing your things." You held onto Jimin's hand comfortably.

"I wanted to surprise you but now the mood's changed."

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"Your family helped me move all your things into my apartment."

You smiled. "So we officially live together?" You asked.

"Yeah." You leaned over and kissed him but quickly pulled away since he was driving.

"Lets just start over (Y/N), there's other magazine companies." He suggested.

"Okay."

And so you did. It was a year later and you were working for another company and you and Jimin were still living in his apartment together.

"(Y/N) I have an interview for you." Your boss gave you your assiment slowly. She was much older then your last boss. Probably in her 70's but she was the nicest lady you know.

You had your own closed office at this job and were already in charge of the floor. Manager was the correct term but you didn't want to brag.

"How do you say are you single in Korean again?" Your best friend from the states followed you finally, like she said she was. You got her a job as the mail coordinator. You were trying to teach her Korean but it was a slow process.

"Just write it down so I can teach you later." You laughed as you entered your office.

You noticed a tall figure turn around. Your mouth opened seeing who it was. Mino.

"What are you doing here?" You haven't seen him in a year.

"Looks like you're doing good." He pursed his lips.

"Yeah...I am." You folded your arms making your way to your desk. "Are you really here for an interview?"

"No....eventually I mean but not today."

"So what do you want?" You didn't mean to sound so rude.

"I want to know what happened....I told you I wanted to help you but you left anyway."

"I just couldn't take it there anymore....between you, them....Jimin nagging me to leave."

"You always do what he says?" He asked.

"It was my decision.....It was too stressful. And I'm doing well here." You smiled.

"I just wanted to say that I really am sorry for what happened."

"Thank you."

"(Y/N) your mail is here." Your friend walked over to your desk.

"Thanks."

"Please teach me how to say are you single in Korean." She glanced at Mino.

"He speaks English Jen." She blushed at your statement.

"I'll see you later (y/n)." Then he left.

"Hurry sit." Jimin sat you at the table.

"Another surprise?" You glance at your new kitten sleeping on the couch.

"I love you (Y/N) and I want you to be with me for the rest of my life." He got down on one knee.

He placed a ring pop on your ring finger causing you to laugh and cry at the same time.

"Its not an official engagement but more like a promise." Then he pulled a small black box out of his pocket. It was a diamond necklace. The most beautiful you have ever seen.

"Jimin." You pouted and he got up kissing you sweetly. "Am I allowed to eat this?" You referred to the candy ring on your finger.

"I suppose." He laughed. He pulled you up and lifted you to your shared bed and placed you down gently. He started kissing down your neck and his hands wandered up your shirt.

Every touch was giving you goosebumps. You started lifting your shirt up until you had to break the kiss to take it off.

He went back in fumbling your breast that you were growing impatient. "Please don't tease me."

He looked up at you and smirked.

He tugged your jeans all the way down your legs until they were discharged to the floor. The teaser grabbed your underwear sliding them down very slowly.

"Jimin please." You whined. He was driving you crazy.

He sat up to take off his shirt and immediately went to his jeans. Your face lit up watching him undress.

You bit your lip once you saw him take off his pants. Everytime you saw him exposed in front of you never failed to give you butterflies. You couldn't look away as he rolled the condom down his member. Once he glanced at you watching him he smirked at your nervousness.

"I don't think you can handle this." He rubbed his toned torso.

"Jimin just shut up and get over here." You laughed.

He nodded as he made his way under the blankets with you. He kissed your lips passionate then looked down to guide himself below. You felt chills once you felt his member brush through your folds.

Every time with him felt like the first time. He slowly pushed in causing an irritating sting.

He stayed still so you could adjust to his size. He kissed your forehead sweetly. It amazed you how he could be an ass and sweet in the matter of second.

He slowly started thrusting which caused more pain but it was tolerable. The first few thrust still had the sting feeling but a eventually it had smooth and you felt the pleasure take hold.

You couldn't actually remember the last time you were intimate together. You both had crazy work schedules so It has been difficult.

"Faster." He looked at you amused and started quickening his speed against you and that's when you finally felt relaxed. You could tell he was more relaxed as well as he started kissing down your neck. He took your hand and interlocked with his. You couldn't help but moan as he kissed along your collar bone.

"Fuck!" You moaned as Jimin continued to thrust into you roughly.

He sped up once again causing the pleasure to stir up into your stomach. You could tell he was close as well since he started moving unsteadily. He kissed your lips as you felt him release inside the condom, causing you to reach your climax as well. He still thrust against you slowly to work down from his climax.

Once the feeling subside he collapsed on the bed next to you. You felt paralyzed lying there, letting every possible emotion flood through.

He leaned up to look at you to see if you were okay from him being so rough.

You couldn't help but laugh thinking about what just happened. "You okay?" He laughed.

"Yeah." You looked at him.

He leaned in closer bringing his lips to yours. "Jimin." You started.

"Yeah?" He looked at you.

"I still think about how we first met and how much I couldn't stand you."

"Hey....You weren't so easy going yourself." He laughed. "You were uptight and bossy."

"I was bossy? You were rude and immature."

"Was not."

"Was too." You argued.

"You clearly didn't know how to have fun and take a joke." He hovered over you.

"Maybe because your jokes were stupid."

He glares at you. "Stupid?"

"Yup." You smirked.

"You're asking for punishment." He said and disappear under the blanket. You felt chills feeling his tongue glide through your folds.

You were already sensitive and this was taking the cake. "Jimin please-"

He still was an ass and will forever be an ass.

[twohearts-hs]

‘An Office Affair Vll’ - CEO!Harry Series

Words: 2,748

Pairing: Harry Styles & (Y/N) (Y/L/N)

CEO Harry Series part 7

Warning(s): Swearing

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

The moment she walked out, he banged his fist on the desk; running his fingers through his hair. His lips let out a groan in frustration; something he did constantly. His jaw was clenching and he grabbed his coat and walked out. He needed a drink, he needed a big drink to get his thoughts together; to drown his issues.

He walked to his car. Harry had no intention in going to the pub, because he knew he will cause havoc, and get kicked out, create a fight or something. His only hope was his apartment which was lined with liquor.

His hands grabbed the steering wheel; breaths were loud and shaky. He just admitted everything he felt for this girl and she just walked out. She didn’t even saying that she fucking loves him back. He was beyond upset. Usually he would bang someone, but he can’t do that to her. He wanted to change for her. He needed to change for her.

Out of anger he pressed the gas more, watching people pass by. He needed to go home, he needed that drink, he needed to cool down. He needed to control his anger. But, he couldn’t. Every second his mind went on about the situation, the foot on the gas pedal pressed harder, creating the car to go faster. He was twenty kilometres over the spend limit.

Harry had no other thoughts, just Scott and her, (Y/N) walking out; his love and adoration for this girl. His mind was clouded. He wasn’t properly seeing where he was going, until his car’s side was banged with another. He just went through a red light.

His head lunged forward, hitting the steering wheel as the airbags were blown up. It knocked him out. His eyelids gently closed, going into a world where everything is perfect; the blackness taking over. He heard things though, he heard the sirens as his limp body was stuck in the seat. He heard the knocking on the window to see if he was awake, he felt them removed him.

~

(Y/N) came to work two days later. She texted Harry when she got to her parents’ place, but he never replied back. She reckoned that he was upset with her; it was his fault not hers. So, two days later, she walked back in the office; a recent haircut happened, so she felt different. (Y/N) was polite. She started a conversation with Megan, her telling her about the recent football match that happened. They laughed together, till she checked the clock and was bang on time, saying a simple ‘goodbye’.

She waved to her co-workers, she even waved and smiled to Scott. He was flustered, replied with the same gestures but went back to work; she thought he was embarrassed. The office quiet, the simple talking of people, and the typing on the keyboards. It was too quiet.

Before she registered what happened, a hand came behind her and brought her into a hug; she turned around. A redhead comes into play, and a smile that was contagious as well.

“(Y/N)! How was it, without me?” Dorothy asked, she smiled.

“Perfectly fine. How was your vacay?” she asked, following Dorothy towards her office.

“Oh, honey! Don’t call it a vacay. I couldn’t do it; I stayed home with the cats, till I got the call that I had to come back in.” she said, the smile still on her lips. (Y/N) thought back. Dorothy had two weeks off, and it has only been a week and a bit.

“Oh, why’d you come early? Got bored?” she said, trying to brighten up the room.

“No, it’s such a shame with what happened to Harry.” (Y/N) sat down at the chair facing her desk, a confused look on her face.

“What happened with Harry?” giving her a werid look.

“Darling, you haven’t heard, Harry was in a car accident.” shock filled her system; mouth gaping open. That is why he hasn’t responded, lately.

“Do you know how I can contact him?” she asked, Dorothy smiled, writing down phone numbers.

“This one is his sisters, and this one here is the hospital.” she told her, sliding the paper over, “Now I have to go to a meeting, so keep yourself busy.”

“Dorothy?” she began, her turning back to her, “Who is filling in for Mr Styles?”

“Well, Addison of course.” Dorothy responded, walking out the room. She rolled her eyes in response, of course, it was fucking Addison.

(Y/N) fished in her bag to find her phone, wanting to call these numbers immediately. She started off with the hospital, not wanting to sound stalkerish with calling his sister. It took three rings.

“Hello, London Bridge Hospital, nurses station; Candice speaking. How can I help you today?” a young rang through. (Y/N) cleared her throat.

“Hi, my friend was admitted about two days ago with a car accident. Harry Styles. Is it possible to come visit today?” she asked, pulling out a pen and pencil.

“Mr Styles is only welcoming friends and family. What is your name, I can put you through with him in his room to see if it is ok?” she asked.

“(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” she replied, tapping the pen on the desk.

“Hold on, please. Just transferring your call.” she sat impatiently, nerves wracking her body. He didn’t even have the guts to call her, and here he is, in the hospital.

“Hello?” he heard his groggy voice, she could tell he was rubbing his face.

“Hey, Harry, it is (Y/N),” she took a break to hear his response, “I’m wondering if you’re ok? What happened? When?” she went on a rampage of questions, her knee bouncing as she sat on the chair.

“Oh, hey love, I’m fine; don’t worry.” he said, she still couldn’t help but worry.

“Can I come and visit?”

“No, I don’t think that is a great idea. My parents are in town.” he told her, he could heard the worrisome in her voice.

“Yeah of course.” the line became awkward, and he picked up on it. He knew what she was doing, bouncing of knee and possibly biting her fingernails.

“You know what, screw it. Visit me, babe.” he told her. A smile came on her features, “And you my rebel, I give you permission off of work to come now. I need you here”

~

She arrived to the hospital, frantically going to the nurses’ station to find out which room he was in, nodding towards her answer. (Y/N) opened the door, seeing Harry gently closing his eyes. His body was in a hospital gown, and he had a brace on.

“Hi.” she picked up that no one was there, just him in this peaceful matter. His features lit up, and a smile came to his face, not a smirk.

“Hi, lovely.” she placed herself on the seat next to him, watching him smile.

“What happened?” his hand went to his forehead, pushing hair back from his face. He relaxed to her touch.

“I was in an accident.” he told her, looking up.

“Tell me more.” she gave him a glare, and he chuckled.

“When you left me, I was a little bit upset. I sped and a car hit my car’s side, but I'm ok, and that is all that matters.” he told her, “The car hit my passenger side, so it didn’t affect me much. Just my wrist and some swelling and shit.” he told her. She leant down, connecting their lips together. She was about to pull away and mumble some words when a voice took over the hospital room.

“Sorry to interrupt.” a voice came out of nowhere, both of the them pulling away.

“Oh, fuck, Gemma,” he chuckled, “you scared me.” she came over to the other side of him and punched him gently on the arm.

“So, who is this? A lovely lady your snogging, does she have a name?” she teased. (Y/N) kept silent, a blush coming to her cheeks.

“Quit it Gem, we weren’t snogging.” she chuckled.

“Hi, I’m (Y/N).” (Y/N) spoke, reaching over to shake Gemma’s hand.

“Hi, I’m Gemma, Harry's sister.” just then more people came in two others. A lady and a man.

“Oh, who is this?” the woman said. She looked like Harry, herself concluding it must be his mother.

“Mum, Robin, this is my girlfriend, (Y/N).” he told them, “(Y/N), this is Anne and Robin. My mum and stepdad.” she was above shock, he just called her his fucking girlfriend. (Y/N) got up to shake their hands and sat down, feeling her hand being placed in with another. Harry grabbed her hand and held it.

“So, I just talked to the nurse. She is bringing discharge papers.” Anne told them, but soon ignored that comment, “I had no idea that you had a girlfriend, Harry. Gosh, you need to tell me these things more often. I thought that I would have to be the one to babysit you after being discharged, but I think (Y/N) here could do it.”

“Yeah, mum, whatever. I can take care of myself.” he grumbled, looking away from (Y/N) and glaring at his mum.

“That’s what you always say, but anyway.” Anne said, placing her attention on (Y/N).

The two of them talked, not just Anne and her, but over time others joined in. She figured out that Harry was a typical boy; the big lavish life just disguises it. She laughed at each other's jokes, and told stories. Harry smiled at the way his family was interacting with her. He’ll be honest, he hasn’t brought home a girlfriend since his high school days. He kept his private life away from his family and focused on himself. Harry would cancel his dinner parties with them or call in sick if he had to see them. He truly does love them, but to him, a family can be a weakness; love is a weakness.

Anne was correct, quarter to an hour later the discharge papers came in. He signed them with no thought and continued his conversation, no, listening to the conversation, that was going around. He truly was in love with her, but he didn’t know how else to show it.

“You, mister, better not get into anything too crazy or trouble anytime soon, this scared me shitless.” his mother told him, pointing towards him.

“Me too, Harry, you can’t do anything stupid.” (Y/N) pipped him, creating him to laugh.

“I’m just a businessman, not a male stripper or a stuntman,” he told them, they all laughed.

“(Y/N), sweetie, are you ok with taking him home? Placing this idoit to bed, taking care of him for us. I completely trust you.” Harry groaned at the nickname.

“Mum, it is fine. (Y/N) can take care of me, you need to head back to work, Gem too.” he told her.

The few of them said their goodbyes, as (Y/N) ordered a taxi; Harry’s car was getting fix, so that was not an option. Robin shook her hand, same with Gemma, but Anne hugged her. This gave Harry a heartwarming feeling, they were already enjoying her. Once all of them exited the room, the two of them were left. (Y/N) spun on her feet and looked at Harry.

“How fucking dare you not tell me what happened? I had to hear from fucking Dorothy.” she said, glaring at him.

“Hey, hey, hey now, don’t bring Dorothy into this.” he gave her the surrender signal, hands up and looking at her.

“No, answer my question.”

“It wasn't major and you were off with your family. I didn’t want to bug you. I was fine, just a little bump and scrapes, bruises and swelling, all that jazz.” he told her.

She groaned, picking up the few things that were around her to place in his bag to take home. She placed the medicine, and blankets that belong to him as well.

“Come on.” she told him, helping him into the wheelchair

The two of them got into the taxi, Harry giving him the address. (Y/N) realised that she had never been to Harry’s before, and simply he just came to her place; she was a little nervous.

“I’m sorry.” he broke the awkward silence.

“About?” she still looked out the window, having not looked at him, yet.

“Everything.” she nodded, humming. She felt the hand on her thigh from him, and she kept ignoring it.

“Mum seemed to like you.” he said, her turning her attention to him, now.

“Yeah, she is really nice, same with your sister.” she told him, the silence coming back, “Harry?” he perked up, “There are a few things I want to tell you, if you want this relationship to work. One, Addison, I don’t want you to be friends with her, she is too, too fake.” he nodded, “Second, you can’t control me. You can’t make me do things or threaten me, ok?” he was a little hesitate now, “Thirdly, no more flirting with anyone. Not even that Katie bitch. Simply say, ‘sorry, sweetie, got a girlfriend now.’ ok?” he rolled his eyes, “Don’t roll your eyes. It takes two to be in a relationship. And a relationship has honesty and trust.”

“Fine, but you have to end things with Scott and Megan.” he replied.

“Scott and I are totally over and Megan and I weren’t even a thing to begin with.” she reasoned.

“Still, though.”

She helped him out of car, heading to the skyscraper where he calls home. The place was new. You can tell from the windows and height of the building, with the fresh new look from the other buildings next to it. It was definitely something he would live in. She followed him through the building, watching as he placed his finger on the button to his floor on the elevator.

“Thanks, for everything.” he said, exiting moments later, she kept following, even into his apartment.

Her apartment was nothing compared to his, slick, modern, white. You could see no speck of dust or stain on the white quartz of his kitchen counter. Everything was minimal, like no one lives there. But, with the dusking of night and the wide windows, the apartment was a simple bachelor’s pad. It was beautiful, though. With minimal lighting that elemetated the room. It was cozy, but professional. She kept following him to an barn door where she was open with his bedroom. It was grey. A simple grey, but not with white. It was on a different level, a tiny step to get to his bed. Too fancy for her taste with the large windows showing the city of London.

“Harry?” he turned around on his feet, looking at her with his bag on her shoulder.

“Um, welcome to my flat. Uh, make yourself at home.” he turned back around and headed towards his bathroom.

“Do you need help?” she asked as he took off his shirt and removed his pants, leaving him in only his boxers.

“No, just need another dosage of painkillers.” he told her, grabbing the bag off her shoulders and kissing her cheeks.

“Harry, did you seriously mean what you send to your family?” she questioned, he stopped in his tracks and turned around.

“What?” he frowned his eyebrows.

“That I am your girlfriend.” he nodded, licking his lips.

“Yeah.” he walked to her, and dropped his hands, kissing her on the lips.

“Ok. A normal person would say, ‘would you want to be my girlfriend’, but I’ll take that.” she told him as he got into his bed.

“Come.” he told her, gesturing to next to him.

“No, Harry. I got to get home, catch up on work, read my book, and stuff.” she stumbled out, turning back towards the exit of his room.

“Please, stay.” it only took those few words, the role of her eyes to listen to him, watching his smile come on his face as she made her way to the bed.

[ladywithoutababy]

IVF Transfer #1: 6 weeks, 4 days pregnant

Ok, LOTS going on over here and it’s been a little while so I’ll try to capture everything that’s been happening.

The last couple weeks have been... eventful. Last Monday I woke up with a UTI (apparently very common in pregnancy, and even more common if you’re taking progesterone because it makes you more sensitive) and had a harrowing time getting a prescription for antibiotics because of the pregnancy. I ended up having to go into an urgent care, where I peed about 10,000 times while I waited for an excruciating two hours, and then they ended up prescribing antibiotics before the urine analysis was done anyway, and then they never even called me to tell me what the results were, so whatever. I took the antibiotics for a week and everything is fine now, although I spent the whole week paranoid that the antibiotics would ruin everything (even though, fun fact, there IS a pregnancy-safe antibiotic for just this purpose! Macrobid, aka Nitrofurantoin).

I’ll spare you the details on this next part, but I feel like I have to at least mention it because this whole blog exists to help other women going through it know what to expect: the suppositories are really becoming the bane of my existence. They’re not that bad to put in, but the um... how do I say this without you never wanting to look at my blog again... let’s just say they weren’t kidding when they said there might be some unpleasant discharge. There was one moment in particular where it was so... um... graphic, and unexpected, and gross, that I became briefly convinced I’d had a miscarriage. I summed it up to my husband (who did NOT want to hear about it, but that’s marriage for you) as body horror. (By the way, side note, I keep thinking about how unfair and ridiculous it is that miscarriages are never portrayed in TV shows and movies, given how common they are. I loved that Fleabag showed someone having one, and acknowledged her experience and her pain. We need more of this representation. It’s not healthy for women to have the impression that the moment you miss your period you are definitely going to have a baby in 9 months. Anyway.)

And THEN, this past Monday, of course, I woke up with a bunch of Coronavirus symptoms. Shortness of breath, dry cough, fever, body aches, chills, headache. I called my doctor, who was very clear that unless I could get a negative covid test result, I could not come into the office for my planned ultrasound (which was scheduled for today, Wednesday). Luckily, NYU is doing extremely efficient covid testing, and I was able to schedule a test for Tues morning with same day (!) results. The covid test (it’s the PCR swab thing) is as uncomfortable as they say it is – they stick it in basically to your brain and it burns and feels extremely unnatural – but it’s at least quick. They told me I’d have results by 3-4 in the afternoon, which of course didn’t happen, and by 5 or 6 my husband was raging. I think we were both losing our mind at the possibility of not being able to go into the doctor and get some information after 2 weeks of nothing. LUCKILY, we heard from them around 7, and there was no covid detected, so I was cleared to go in.

Ok here’s the good part.

This morning we went in for our first-ever ultrasound (well, I went in, and I facetimed my husband in from the car). I had absolutely 100% worked myself up to being convinced that it was going to be bad news. Here’s the thing: when you go 2 weeks without any new information, and when you don’t have any obvious symptoms, and when you have a history of fertility problems, it starts to feel literally impossible that you could be pregnant. My mind starts going to all these conspiracy theories: They confused my blood results with someone else’s. It’s a scam so people will keep going to this clinic. There’s no way a baby could survive the 100.3° fever I had. I’m not eating enough vegetables. If you’re not feeling nauseous it’s probably a sign that you already had a miscarriage. Etc etc etc. It starts to feel more plausible that you are cursed and that the universe is doing everything it can to prevent you from having a baby. It’s horrible. I started crying in the car this morning on the way to the doctor’s office because I was pretty sure it was going to be bad, but also because even if it’s good news, THAT SHIT WON’T LAST. 24 hours later I’ll be back to doubting everything, and I’ll have to wait another who-knows-how-many-weeks to get reassured again. It’s just too much to worry about all the time.

But I managed to stop crying, and I made it to my ultrasound. Aaaaaand somehow, miraculously, um, everything is good! The doctor said it all looks “perfect.” AND WE GOT TO HEAR A HEARTBEAT! She also confirmed that we’re 6 weeks, 4 days along, and that our due date (!) is March 11. (Yes, my husband is already in trouble for all the 311 references he’s making.) Here’s what this thing looks like:

Even though all we saw was this weird little blob, hearing a heartbeat definitely made the whole thing feel more real. I’m going to try really hard going forward to just try to embrace the situation and assume everything is fine unless I hear otherwise. One thing that’ll help with this: we’re graduating from the fertility clinic to a regular OB! It also helped that my doctor said that at this point (now that we’ve done genetic testing AND we can hear a heartbeat), there’s a very small (less than 10% chance) of miscarriage. So I think we can proceed with cautious optimism.

We also get to start tapering off all the medications soon, THANK GOD. We only have to do injections for another week, I start reducing the pills and suppositories a week after that, and then finish everything a week after that. So I think by mid-August we’ll be all done, which feels real good. I can’t even remember how long we’ve been doing this for, and don’t really want to know. Look forward, not back!

We’re very happy, and very emotionally exhausted. I hope the relief can last us until our next doctor’s appointment. 

[ibilenews]

Indonesia’s first 3 COVID-19 patients open up about online hate and stigmatisation

JAKARTA: "Because of you, my wedding is now cancelled," said one social media post.

"Because of you, my graduation is cancelled," said another.

There was also another post that said: "Because of you, I lost my job."

These negative messages were among the many that Sita Tyasutami received since last month. She also got death threats.

The 30-year-old is known in Indonesia as Case 01, the first person who was tested positive for COVID-19 in the country.

She has since recovered from the illness, but hate messages are still appearing in her social media accounts.

“They still get me sometimes,” she said during a phone interview on Monday (Apr 6).

Tyasutami, who is a professional dancer and an independent performing arts manager, was declared positive on Mar 2, after being sick for some days.

When President Joko Widodo broke the news on that Monday morning that the country had its first two COVID-19 cases, Tyasutami did not even know that she had the disease.

Although she and her mother Maria Darmaningsih, who became known as Case 02, were already warded in separate rooms at Jakarta’s Infectious Disease Hospital Sulianti Saroso, it never crossed her mind that they both had COVID-19.

Tyasutami’s older sister Ratri Anindyajati, who is an independent producer and arts manager, was the one who broke the news to her mother.

“Ratri called me. She was so nervous,” Darmaningsih, 64, recounted.

“I turned on the TV and I saw the news about Mr Jokowi announcing the country’s first two COVID-19 cases. I was like: 'Oh my goodness' ... I felt so broken."

A nurse was coincidently in Darmaningsih’s room when Anindyajati called.

But she couldn’t verify whether Darminingsih and her younger daughter Tyasutami had COVID-19.

MEDIA FRENZY AT THEIR HOUSE

Mr Widodo did not mention the names of the country’s first two COVID-19 cases. But within minutes, messages started to circulate on Whatsapp indicating Tyasutami’s and Darmaningsih’s initials. Their health records and complete home address were also made known.

A few hours after Mr Widodo made the announcement, the health minister also held a press conference revealing details and the medical history of Case 01 and 02. What was announced matched the profile of Tyasutami and Darmaningsih.

“I asked a nurse who was visiting me in my room whether there were other patients currently warded at the hospital,” said Tyasutami.

“The nurse said no. So it must be us the president was talking about!” Tyasutami recounted.

At that stage, the nurses said they had no details on what was going on.

Tyasutami and her mother later found out that it is the protocol in Indonesia that during a specific disease outbreak, the president must first be informed before the patients are made aware.

The day did not unfold well, according to Tyasutami, Darmaningsih and Anindyajati.

A flood of messages filled their handphones, asking them various questions.

Journalists flocked to their house in Depok city, on the outskirts of Jakarta, while health officials raced to disinfect their house and test everyone living there, including Anindyajati.

The 33-year-old artist actually resides in Vienna, Austria, but she has been in Indonesia since February for professional and family matters.

ALL THREE TESTED POSITIVE FOR COVID-19  

Just like her younger sister and her mother, Anindyajati was ill towards the end of February.

All three of them had been suffering from a combination of complaints such as itchy throat, fever and joint pain.

But Anindyajati quickly recovered and took her mother and sister to a local hospital in Depok on Feb 27.

Tyasutami was originally diagnosed with bronchopneumonia and Darmaningsih with typhus.

They were both hospitalised. Tyasutami later heard from a friend that she had attended the same dance event as a foreigner. The latter later went to Malaysia and tested positive for COVID-19.

Tyasutami did not know the lady but she immediately thought that she should be swabbed for COVID-19.

She and her mother were then transferred from the hospital in Depok to Jakarta’s Infectious Disease Hospital Sulianti Saroso.

Once officials knew Tyasutami and Darmaningsih were COVID-19 positive, Anindyajati also underwent a swab test.

Her result was also positive. She was warded at the same hospital on Mar 5 and became known as the country’s Case 03.

ROAD TO RECOVERY

“Clinically, our symptoms were mild. Maybe out of everyone, I had the worst symptoms,” Tyasutami said.  

“When I was hospitalised, I only had a cough. It was a bad cough ... But when I was told I was positive and with all the stigma surrounding me, I was so stressed. My health got worse in the first few days."

People bombarded her social media accounts, sending nasty messages and blaming her for bringing the disease into the country. She set her accounts to private mode.

“I had high blood pressure ... up to the point when I could hear and feel my heart beating. It was so loud and fast. I started to vomit ... so it was really stressful,” Tyasutami recounted.

All three of them didn’t have any underlying conditions and they were generally fit.

“How did I recover? I just tried to be happy, which was very difficult at first. But then Ratri, my mom, my whole family, my friends, and even friends whom I haven’t seen in 15 years were all supporting me."

"And then my photos were being circulated ... Ratri said because we had quite a few followers, let’s make positive campaigns. 'I’ll make the wordings, you just need to repost',” said Tyasutami who is also a dance teacher.  

SUPPORT FROM FRIENDS AND FAMILY

They started to share positive messages on social media. They also replied to messages from people who wanted to know what their symptoms were and other questions relevant to COVID-19.  

Both sisters were in separate rooms. However, as the rooms were on the same hallway, they could see each other.  

They kept themselves busy by exercising and practising yoga. Tyasutami even did handstands and was warned by the nurses who monitored them on the CCTV to be careful.

The three of them also wore a bit of makeup to feel better. They meditated together online, together with their families who live in other cities.

Meanwhile, Darmaningsih continued to dance in her isolation room.

Family support was the most important factor to recovery, she added.

On Mar 13, Tyasutami and Anindyajati were discharged.

The two sisters were happy, but worried at the same time.

“I felt bad because I didn’t want to leave mom behind,” said Anindyajati.

Three days later, Darmaningsih could finally go home.

The experience has made them more health-conscious.

They try to drink more water and Darmaningsih, who is the founder of the Indonesian Dance Festival, tries to rest more.  

Since everyone is encouraged to stay home, the sisters are trying to spread positive campaigns to counter the hate messages which they are still receiving.

They have been approached to join fundraising campaigns for COVID-19 causes. Some people are also seeking emotional support from them.

“When the positive campaigns started, we had people who were so encouraging. They were telling us that listening to our stories made them feel very calm," Anindyajati said.

“We just keep going because we know we’re all in the same boat."

[nestleeds]

Pregnancy, Mental Health & Me.

*Trigger warning - traumatic birth story*

37 week induction with a 6 hour discharge. That was the intention. I had been referred to a perinatal midwife due to my anxiety disorder and depression and we had developed this birth plan to put my mind at ease throughout the remainder of my pregnancy. However, this wasn’t to be the case. Here is my story about pregnancy, mental health and me.

For all of my life I have had an anxiety disorder which mentally stops me doing a lot of things in life at a debilitating level. I have two children -  a 10 year old girl who was a due date baby and a 3 year old boy.

In 2016 I was pregnant with our second child, very excited but extremely anxious so to start with I was very poorly. I was hit with morning sickness. Oh my goodness - morning sickness - why on earth it is called morning sickness is beyond me. I felt like I was on a ferry in the middle of the rough seas 24/7 or feeling like I had a constant major hangover. I didn’t eat for weeks; I cried because I was hungry so dehydrated I had mouth ulcers, this is no fun! I was admitted to the hospital and told I had HG, the ultimate ‘princess Kate morning sickness’.

I was put on a drip of fluids and given anti-sickness medication then discharged. With on and off sickness throughout I did eventually start enjoying pregnancy, I had regular midwife appointments and most of those appointments were taken up with me talking about how anxious I was about being in hospital and giving birth. At this point in my life I was struggling being in buildings that I couldn’t easily get out of, so as you can imagine a hospital is not an easy place to escape.  I had constant nightmares and visions of me mid-labour, freaking out having a massive panic attack and running. At that point it didn’t enter my head that the pain of child birth would more than likely stop me running but nevertheless anxiety took over and I was referred to a wonderful lady from the perinatal midwife team. I remember my first appointment, feeling like I didn’t want to tell her the full truth of how I was feeling. I thought she would think ‘how would I cope with another child if I couldn’t even cope with being in a hospital building’  or ‘oh my goodness this extremely anxious lady is having a child’ so at first I didn’t say too much. She asked me about my first labour, and I guess you’re also wondering how I coped with all this first time round? Well the answer to that is I was 17 and was still a child myself, I did have anxiety at that point but over the years the triggers changed. I think after having my daughter the motherly instincts came but they came with a heap load of anxiety!

So back to the lovely midwife, I also told her that my daughters delivery was forceps due to her heart rate dropping dramatically; yes to this day she is still very much the drama queen! I didn’t want that fright of 10 doctors rushing in, I wanted to be more in control this time round, that’s when we came up with the plan. 37 week induction and a 6 hour discharge, no way on earth could I stay in hospital as I knew the post natal ward was on level 7!!! My mind would not make it up there. No way! So perfect the plan is in place I can know relax and completely enjoy my pregnancy!!

At 30 weeks pregnant I felt an indescribable poorly. I went to the GP; they said my heart rate was really high and they sent me to A&E - germs, people ,stress and now worry not a good combination! I was transferred to the maternity assessment I had the usual checks, monitor on my tummy- all good, urine test-all clear so the ‘only’ thing this illness and heart rate could be is a panic attack, right? And I was sent on my way. Let me assure you this was not my anxiety symptoms. My heart hurt and I was so weak; the pain in every single bone and muscle when working was torture.  

Not long after I had a routine midwife appointment, my heart rate again was high, and the same happened. Back to the assessment ward only to be told again ‘just anxiety, take it easy’ by this point I was genuinely scared, I started to question my own health is this a new thing? Have panic attacks suddenly evolved into a new generation of anxiousness? Causing pain, weakness and a heavy heart? Surely not! And if it had I did not want to be sticking around to deal with that every day of my life, no thank you! So not only am I doubting myself, but my partner and family might believe the midwife and might think it’s just my anxiety! It was horrendous.

Then it got real! We hit 35 weeks, I woke up in agony, my tummy, my heart my chest. No one believed me. Why would they? The midwives had told my family it was just anxiety. So my mum was reluctant to take me back to the hospital but I insisted. I arrived at 9am on the 19th September, I had swabs and these swabs test for preterm labour in the period of two weeks, mine came back negative. I was prescribed codeine, told to go home and take a hot bath, again off we went I literally crawled to the car. I couldn’t walk. The pain was so bad.

We got home within 15 minutes and I climbed in the bath and began to bleed, my worst nightmare, blood is bad. Was I losing my baby?

By now it’s only 1pm and we rushed back to the hospital where I was examined and told I was 5cm dilated. FINALLY something they couldn’t pass off as anxiety. My baby boy was well on his way, 5 weeks early! My 37 week induction was out of the window, but I was coping, staying calm, I guess I hadn’t realized this might mean the 6 hour stay might not happen.  Yet the adrenaline was well and truly flowing. The crash trolley was brought into my room because my heart rate was super high and with that came neonatal nurses. I delivered a gorgeous 8lb 1oz baby Charlie. He was placed on my tummy for 5 seconds - enough time for a picture, then he made a noise, a noise which sounded like a grunting pig so they took him. A nurse said he’s ok, he’s struggling a bit and he’s gone to neonatal. I didn’t know where that was but my brand new baby boy was taken by a nurse I’d never met to a place I’d never seen. Strangely no sadness, no fear or worry crossed my mind; all I kept saying was I have just had a baby with no pain relief. I now feel so much guilt for not feeling sadness or fear, but the adrenalin had clearly taken over. I then had to deliver my placenta, it was GREEN.  This had been the problem. My placenta was severely infected, this is why I was so poorly and this is why my baby was early and now struggling. 3 hours later I was wheeled round to the neonatal. We approached a door with a buzzer and at the other side of that locked door was a long corridor; this was not an easy escape. My anxiety then took over and all I kept thinking was when I see my baby the anxiety will go. How wrong was I! I didn’t for one second picture what we were  about to see. We turned the corner and I was pushed into a room with dim lights, incubators, machines, nurses, strange beeping sounds. My heart was racing. I asked which was mine. What a strange question ‘which is my baby’ - that in itself made me feel like a terrible mum. How could I not know what my baby looked like? And then I looked at him, he had 2 wires to his chest one on his foot, a canular with antibiotics in his hand, a feeding tube in his mouth, a hat with a big pipe attached to it going up his nose. He looked helpless. What on earth was all this and why was it needed? What had happened? I couldn’t cope and I needed to get out of this unit. I felt trapped, trapped mentally and physically.

It’s strange to admit I struggled to visit my baby, the rush of anxiety and fear was too much and I felt too weak to fight it having just had a baby. Charlie was on the neonate so for 4 days before being moved to transitional care finally I was able to lay next to my baby which was odd. I’d been his mum for 4 and a half days, but I felt he didn’t know me and I didn’t know him. I felt scared that he’d adapted to the nurses and he wanted them not me, of course this was not true! But that’s the reality of an anxious mind, the feeling that I wasn’t  not good enough to anyone even my child, and partly because I couldn’t even carry him to full term! 

It’s taken 3 years to stop blaming myself and appreciate everything but that 3 year wait was so worth it! I definitely try my best to battle through my anxiety and accept my anxiety. We live our lives to the best we can now and I love it!!

[curvy-mamma]

Tiny Guy's Arrival

Warning: this is a really long post and contains details regarding childbirth.

I had been on maternity leave for two weeks already. Working night shift while being as far along as I was was too hard. The first week was like vacation. I enjoyed time with the Big Kiddo and relaxed. As I rolled into my 39th week of pregnancy, though, I started getting impatient with Tiny Guy. I was eating handfuls of dates, taking long walks, bouncing on the exercise ball every time I sat down and more in an attempt to get the little guy out. When my midwife told me I was only 1 cm dilated and 60% effaced during my visit that week, I almost cried. My due date came and went.

Two days later I woke up from an unusually restful night’s sleep around 7 am. I had to pee of course and also had some intestinal cramping which I chalked up to the Coldstone ice cream I’d had the night before. Big Kiddo got up with me and we started our day. I thought we might go to the park later to get us out of the house. As I sat with the Big Kiddo, watching YouTube train videos, I realized that my intestinal cramping wasn’t going away. Not only that but the pain was getting a little more intense yet I was still unsure about what was going on. When I was in labor with the Big Kiddo, my contractions were like menstrual cramps, which these did not feel like. So I texted my (childless) sister to get her opinion on the situation. This was no help but the subsequent call to our mother was helpful. She told me that it could be labor and I should call my midwife’s office. The nice nurse at the office told me to start timing the cramps, drink a lot of water (to see if the cramps were caused by dehydration), try to relax, and call back in an hour or two.

After two large glasses of water and a nice warm shower, the cramps were about 30 seconds long and 6 minutes apart. I still wasn’t sure I was in labor despite the regularity of the cramps. When the nurse called me back two hours later, I reported my continued cramps and she asked if I wanted to come into the office to just to see what was going on. Agreeing that coming in would be a good idea, we set up an appointment for about 3 hours from then. Getting off the phone with the nurse, I promptly called my dad who would be watching the Big Kiddo in case of labor to inform him that we’d be dropping the Big Kiddo off during the appointment. I also called my mom who was out, to let her know the plan.

And so the cramps continued. I made myself a sandwich, watched the Big Kiddo’s YouTube videos with him, but didn’t continue to monitor the length and spacing of my cramps. It probably wasn’t labor, I thought. As I attempted to make another sandwich, though, I had to stop and actively cope with my cramps. Maybe it actually was labor. I whipped out my contraction tracking app and began to keep track again. They were about a minute long, 2-3 minutes apart. Everything I’d read and been told was that it was time to go to the hospital when the contractions were 4 minutes apart, last about a minute, and this had been going on for about an hour. Well, they were closer than 4 minutes, so, finally accepting that I was in labor, I called the office again to let them know. The nurse had the on call midwife call me who agreed that it was time for us to come to the birth center to have a baby.

Husband got the Big Kiddo ready to go, since we still had to get him to my dad, and, grabbing the long packed hospital bag, off we went. I continued to cope with the contractions as we made the 20 minute drive to my parents’ house. Dropping the Big Kiddo off, all we told my dad was that we were going straight to the birth center. 15 minutes later we arrived at the outpatient midwifery birth center at St Joseph medical center. I had chosen the birth center because it offered the best of both worlds; a home like setting where the most medical of interventions for pain relief was nitrous oxide that was a 4 minute gurney ride away from a level 3 NICU and surgeons in case anything went wrong.

Our nurse met us at the door and walked us back to a triage room. She put me on the monitor and started doing intake. Tiny sounded good on the monitor but, due to the fact that I was obviously contracting often, the nurse didn’t even try to get a reading on my contractions. The midwife came in next and did a cervical check. “8-9 cm with a bulging bag,” she announced. To one of the birthing suites we went. I was introduced to the doula and asked if I wanted a water birth, to which I replied “I don’t know” because decision making was beyond me at that time. As I made myself as comfortable as I could on the bed, there was a flurry of action around me as everyone prepared for what they thought was an imminent delivery. During one of my subsequent cervical checks which happened during a contraction, my water broke.

“There’s mec in the fluid,” the midwife said to the room at large. “Do you feel like pushing? Is the baby coming right now?” she asked me. To which I again replied “I don’t know.” The nurses and midwife explained to us (though mostly to the Husband) that Tiny Guy had passed meconium (his first poop) while inside, which can be a sign of distress, and that, per protocol, we should transfer to the hospital so the NICU team could be on hand. They also said that if baby was coming right then (ish) we could deliver there. Tiny’s heart tones weren’t concerning, so they could push it.

The last cervical exam revealed that I had an anterior lip, just a small amount of cervix in the way. The midwife decided to have me push while trying to get the lip out of the way but after several pushes, she wasn’t successful. It was then that the team decided to transfer. They brought is a gurney and had me slide over. Off we went. Up one floor from the birth center, across a sky bridge into the hospital proper, up the tower elevators to the 14th floor and into a labor room. Of course, I only know the path we took because of working at the hospital, as I kept my eyes closed in order to concentrate on keeping on top of the contractions during our journey. Lucky for us, our nurse and midwife got to follow us to the hospital since they weren’t needed back at the birth center.

Another exam revealed the reason Tiny Guy wasn’t out quite yet despite me being nearly fully dilated; he was OP (occiput posterior) or what’s commonly known at sunny side up. My care team decided to try to get him to turn. This would be achieved by me changing positions and moving. Every time my nurse told me to get in a new position, I told her no, followed by her telling me, in her “mom” voice, that I was going to do it, if only for a couple contractions. Also during this time, I asked to be knocked out under general anesthesia and have a cesarean birth, which was met by a stern no from my nurse (again in her mom voice). While in the fourth position they put me in, something changed, I felt Tiny slip down, just a little farther. I also felt a stronger urge to push.

I looked over at whoever was sitting next to me (nurse or doula maybe) and told her it was time to push. Again, another flurry of activity as the midwife was summoned and they got all the equipment ready. They coached me through a couple pushes before I felt him crowning. Let me just say that ring of fire is no joke but two more contractions with pushing, and he was out. He went straight to my stomach (his cord was too short for him to make it to my chest) where, after about 5 seconds, he began to yell his head off. I had done it! I was so relieved and happy that I was laughing but also pretty close to tears. It was such a wonderful feeling to finally be able to hold him in my arms.

Once his cord stopped pulsing, Tiny Guy’s cord was cut and he moved up to my chest. Getting the placenta out was painful but nothing compared to the baby. The midwife also had some small tears to repair, so I spent the first half hour or so on my back. Finally, all patched up, I was able to sit up and nurse my tiny guy. Born at 5:22 p.m. on July 31st, Tiny weighed 7 pounds 9.7 ounces, a little over a pound heavier than his big brother, and was 19.69 inches long.

We spent the night in the hospital, being cared for by my wonderful co-workers. It felt like being cared for at home by family. At 24 hours old, we were discharged to our actual home.

It should be noted that my Husband was with me the entire time, though I didn’t mention him much in this tale. He stayed by my side, held my hand when I needed him to, and gave me the encouragement I had previously asked him to. He was the rock I needed. He even knew I needed some stern encouragement but was wise enough not to give it himself.

Becoming a family of four has been a very large adjustment. The Big Kiddo has been wonderful with an occasional tendency to be a little whinier than before. We’re going to have to continue to make adjustments of course. In the next month, the Big Kiddo goes back to school and I go back to work. It’s a joy, though, to have my big kid and my tiny guy.

[tkatsumi06j]

Radio NZ news article ニュージーランド国立ラジオの記事 13 July 2017 2017年7月13日 Translated: Michiyo Taniguch 翻訳：　谷口ミチヨ Proofread: Wayne Douglas 校正：　ウェイン・ダグラス （※ダグラス氏についてはこちらのサイトを参照）

CALL FOR ANSWERS after NZ man dies in Japan hospital

真実を捜して・・・ニュージーランド人男性、日本の病院で死亡

The day after the W-BAD Japan visit to the Ministry of Health in Tokyo, I heard about the following news article.

「世界ベンゾ注意喚起の日」（W-BAD）による厚生省陳情訪問の翌日、下記のニュース記事について連絡を受けました。

FIRSTLY　A note from the translator:

まず、翻訳者からのコメント：

The number of patients discharged from psychiatric hospitals in Japan due to death are 1,800 per month, and this number does not include those who were transferred to regular hospitals after developing medical complications - likely from mis/treatment (NB: The Japan Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare announced 22,584 deaths in Japanese psychiatric hospitals for the year 2011). Nor does this figure include the hundreds of thousands who suffer alone in the dark at home due to reckless prescribing of psychiatric drugs.

日本の精神病院のひと月の死亡退院は1,800人で、この数字は、例えば副作用で他院に転院した方の数字ではなく、入院してから比較的早く亡くなった方の数字だとどこかで��んだ記憶があります（注：厚生労働省の発表によると、平成23年の精神病院からの死亡退院者数は22,584人です）。別に、何十万もの人が無謀ともいえる向精神薬の投与により、社会の中で家庭で、孤独のうちに苦しんでいます。

SECONDLY　A note from the proofreader:

次に、校正者からのコメント：

1. Kelly was obviously prescribed psychoactive drugs in Japan (possibly polypharmacy, including benzodiazepines).

ケリーは日本で明らかに向精神薬が処方されていた（恐らく多剤併用でベンゾジアゼピンも）。

2. Typical of this country, it is highly likely that he would not have been given informed consent, nor would he have been warned of the risks, including polypharmacy, or the dangers of stopping suddenly…

この国の典型として、恐らくインフォームドコンセントは行われていなかったであろうし、諸々の危険性についての注意もなされてなかったであろう。多剤併用や急に薬を止める事の危険性も含めて・・・

3. The article says he stopped because of untoward drug side-effects.

記事によると、厄介な副作用が起こりケリーは薬を飲むのを止めた

4. In which case, it’s highly likely that a severe, acute withdrawal reaction occurred, possibly resulting in his manic episode.

このような場合、急性の激しい離脱症状は大いに起こりうる。その結果、躁状態が起こったのではないか？

5. Incompetent doctors failed to recognize this, and restrained him for 10 days which ultimately led to his death.

無能な医師にはこのような認識はなく、ケリーを10日間拘束し、それが最終的に死亡に結びついた。

6. The family requested medical records, but the hospital refused (the family has every legal right to access them, and the hospital has absolutely no legal right to withhold them). The hospital also refused an external inquiry. They could demand these through the proper legal channels.

ケリーの家族は医療記録を請求したが、病院側は却下（関係家族は医療記録にアクセスするあらゆる権利があり、それを退ける法的な権利は病院側にはまずない）。病院はまた外部調査も拒否している。遺族は弁護士を通じて請求すればアクセスできる筈です。

7. This story appears all over international media, but hasn’t been publicized in Japan.

この話は世界中の大手メデアが取り上げている。しかし日本では報道されていない。

THE ARTICLE:

その記事：

The family of a New Zealand man who died after being tied to a bed for 10 days in a Japanese psychiatric ward say his care was an abuse of human rights.

日本の精神科病棟で10日間の身体拘束の後亡くなったニュージーランド人のご遺族は男性が受けたのは人権侵害だったと話しています。

Kelly Savage, 27, had been teaching English in Japan for two years when a pre-existing mental health condition worsened.

ケリー・サベージさん27歳は、2年に亘り、日本で英語を教えてましたが、その間、以前からあった精神状態が悪化しました。

His Wellington-based family say he became manic after stopping his medication because of the side effects.

ウェリントンにいる彼の家族は副作用のため、薬を止めた後、躁状態になったといいます。

He was admitted to Yamato Hospital under a compulsory order and restrained on a bed in a secure ward for 10 days.

ケリーさんは大和病院に強制入院し、保護病棟で10日間、ベッドの上で拘束されました。

A nurse found him in cardiac arrest in mid-May and he died seven days later.

5月半ば、看護師が彼が心停止しているのを見つけ、7日後に亡くなりました。

His death certificate lists the cause of death as hypoxicischemic encephalopathy caused by cardiopulmonary arrest.

死亡証明書によると心肺停止による、低酸素虚血性脳症が死亡原因になっています。

But his family say the cause of the cardiac arrest is inconclusive and it has been suggested to them that deep vein thrombosis may have been involved because of the long period of restraint.

しかし遺族は、病院側が主張する心停止の原因は決定的なものではなく、長期に渡る身体拘束が原因となった、深部静脈血栓症が影響している可能性があることを示唆していると話しています。

They say researchers in Japan have reported that 30 days’ restraint is common there.

30日間の身体拘束は日本では普通に行われていると言われています。

The family have tried unsuccessfully to get medical records from the hospital, which also declined to allow an investigation into the cause of death by an outside party.

遺族は治療記録を病院に求めましたが断られています。また、外部による死亡原因究明の許可も断れました。

The hospital has also declined to apologise, with the chief doctor denying responsibility.

病院長は責任を否定し謝罪の言葉もありません。

Kelly’s older brother, Pat Savage, who lives in Japan with his wife and young children, said he was driven to tears of anger and frustration at a meeting with hospital chiefs yesterday.

妻と二人の幼子と共に日本で暮らしているケリーの兄のパットパット・サベージは昨日院長と話しをし、怒りとストレスで泣き崩れたと言います。

He said they told him nurses would have removed Kelly’s waist, wrist and leg restraints for short periods on occasions, to wash him or allow him to eat, but would not say for how long or give him the nurses’ records.

看護師が時折、彼の身体を拭いたり食事で、腰や手首、足の拘束を解いたと病院側はいいますが、どれだけの時間拘束を解いていたのか答えることはなく、看護記録を見せることもしません。

“I kind of broke down and [was] crying and angry at them because I’ve been trying to get these records for almost two months now, and they know that I wanted it, and they just screwed us over by, you know, trying to drag the process out as long as possible.”

「行き詰ってますよ。涙が出てくるし、病院には怒りがこみ上げています。こういう記録がみたいといってからもう2カ月近くたってるんです。僕が記録が欲しいのを知っていて、本当のことを言わないです。要するに、　彼らはできるだけ答えるのを遅らせようとしているんです。」

He said whether the restraints were removed “for a few minutes” to allow Kelly, who was sedated, to be bathed was immaterial; he did not need to be physically restrained for so long.

清拭するのに「数分間」拘束を解いたかは重要なことではない。彼は薬で鎮静させられてたんだから。要は、そんなに長く身体を拘束する必要はなかったんです。ケリーの兄のパットは言ってます。

“He does need to be in a hospital - I was glad he was in a hospital - but he didn’t need to be restrained to the bed in my opinion.”

「ケリーは入院する必要はあった。入院してホッとししました。だけど、僕の考えでは拘束する必要はなかったんだ。」

(According to Pat) Dr Savage said it was bad to treat anyone that way, but particularly his younger brother, who was helping Japanese students.

パットによると、サベージ博士（ケリーの母親）はあのような扱いは誰に対してでも悪いと言っています。弟のケリーの場合は特に日本の生徒の手助けをしていたのです。

“The fact that Kelly was here… to try to help international relations, trying to teach Japanese children English, and then he’s just dying in this kind of outrageous circumstances that would never happen in New Zealand should be an embarrassment to Japan.”

「現実に起こったことは、彼は国際関係をサポートしようとして、日本の子供たちに英語を教え、ニュージーランドではありえないとんでもない状況で命を失ったいうことで、日本にとっては恥ずべきことです。」

Kelly’s mother, Martha Savage, a professor of geophysics at Victoria University, said what had happened was shocking.

ケリーのお母さんはヴィトリア大学の地球物理学の教授ですが、起こったことは非常にシャッキングでると話していました。

“It just seems medieval to me. I mean we were just shocked when we first found out and it seems like it’s something from a movie back in the Middle Ages. It doesn’t seem like a modern society would be doing this [restraint].”

「中世時代のようです。最初、話を聞いた時はただただショックでした。なんだか中世時代の映画のようです。この“拘束”をするってことは今の時代じゃないみたいですよ。」

She said the only thing the hospital staff did for Kelly while he was restrained was put compression stockings on him.

サベージ博士の話では、ケリーが拘束されている時、病院スタッフが唯一彼の為にしたことは圧迫ソックスを履かせたことくらいということです。

She said restraint was needed to prevent people from hurting themselves or others, but it was usually for a short period of time.

拘束が必要なのは他害、自害を防ぐためのもので、普通は短期間ですと博士は続けます。

“No more than a few hours and only if they’re actually actively trying to resist and trying to go after other people, but Kelly had already stopped resisting at that point and they still put him in the restraint.”

「実際に抵抗したり、人の後を追いかけたりしない限りは拘束は数時間以上に及んだりしません。しかしケリーは拘束される時点で既に抵抗を止めてました。そして、病院側はまだ彼を拘束したんです。」

Prof Savage said the family did not want anything other than to prevent it happening to anyone else.

サベージ博士とご遺族が望んでいるのはこうことが他の誰かにも起こらないことです。

“We don’t want to sue anybody, we don’t want money. We just want other people to not go through this terrible situation again.”

「私たちは誰かを訴えたいとは思っていないし、損害賠償が欲しいわけではない。他の誰にも、こんな酷い経験をしてほしくないだけなんです。」

She urged the New Zealand government to push Japan to change its practices.

彼女は、こういうやり方を変えるように、日本に圧力をかけるべく、ニュージーランド政府に働きかけています。

THE JAPANESE EMBASSY

在ニュージーランド日本大使館の代表は？

In a separate article, Kiyohiko Hamada, spokesman for the Japanese Embassy in Wellington, was quoted as saying: “the country (Japan) cohered to international standards.”

別の新聞記事によると、在ニュージーランド（ウェリントン）日本大使館の代表浜田清彦氏は次のように述べた。「日本は国際基準に従って対応した。」

FINALLY

Could the stories reported in this book by Yomiuri Newspaper Reporter, Mitsunobu Sato, also be examples of Japan cohering to “international standards”?

最後に、では読売新聞の佐藤光展記者が下記の本で紹介しているケースも国際基準に従った対応になるのでしょうか？

The Dark Side of Mental Health

WARNING! This is not fiction! Alarming truths about the dark side of psychiatry in Japan

People with no notable medical history seized and held in psychiatric hospitals

Person laid to waste by excessive drug prescriptions then detained and observed for 18 years

Severe dependencies to drugs prescribed by doctors

Suicidal patients advised on how to hang themselves

Known molester receives help for orgasmic impotence

26-year-old man loses speech after large doses of prescription drugs and electric shock treatment…

精神医療ダークサイド

講談社現代新書

警告！ これはフィクションではありません！ ブラック精神科医たちの衝撃の実態

通院歴もないのに突然、精神科病院に拉致監禁

薬漬けで廃人状態にして18年間の監禁生活を強要

自殺願望に悩む患者に首つり自殺の方法を教える

「性行為でイクかどうか」を問診して、治療方針を決定

大量の薬物投与と電気ショックで26歳男性の言葉を失わせる

PHOTOS

#1　Kelly Savage, 27, died in a hospital in Japan on 17 May

5月17日に、ケリー・サベージ氏は、日本の病院で亡くなった。

#2　Kelly Savage with his mother, Martha, and father, Michael, during his graduation from Victoria University with a BA in Japanese and Psychology. His mother is a professor of geophysics at the university.

母親のマーサと父親のマイケルと一緒にいるケリーさん ビクトリア大学卒業の写真（日本語課、心理学課卒業） 母親は同大学での地球物理学の教授

#3　Kelly’s mother, Martha Savage

ケリーさんの母親のマーサ

Source 発信元 

[mrsronan]

Walking Through Fire

About 5 pm last Friday I started having some pain in my hip. By 8 pm the pain was shooting down my left leg and I couldn’t walk through our apartment without holding on to our furniture. I called an on-call doctor who recommended I go to the Emergency Department and get an MRI. The last two Emergency Department visits I had were quite long, and I hate leaving my baby, so I thought I’d wait until the next day. I already had an appointment at the infusion center to get my chemo pump removed and some friends were committed to watching Catica during that time. I thought the nurses for my pump removal could advise me on what to do since they are more familiar with my treatments and high tolerance for pain. 

At check-in for the pump removal they always ask if I’m experiencing any pain. I informed them about my hip pain and they hesitated to check me in. The receptionist spoke with the charge nurse who agreed to check me in and remove my pump, but insisted that I be directly transferred to the ED. The infusion center nurse reviewed my condition including the cancer diagnosis, the swollen ovary, the blood clot, and the new hip & leg pain. She called the rapid response team so I could be transferred. The rapid response nurse Jeremiah came with a wheel chair to take me to the Emergency Department. Standing up to transfer from my heated massage pump removal chair to the wheel chair caused me to cringe, hold my breath, and hope my leg wouldn’t fall out from under me.

I receive my chemo in a hospital that is primarily a children’s hospital. Jeremiah challenged me to guess when we crossed over from the adult side of the hospital to the children’s side. The birds, trees, and flowers painted on the wall were a complete give away. I totally conquered that challenge. 

After being checked in to the children’s ED, the nurses and doctors reviewed my condition of stage 4 colon cancer, the swollen ovary, the blood clot, and the new hip pain. The doctor and nurses there decided to transfer me to the adult hospital at the Parnassus campus of UCSF. I wanted to just have my husband take me, but the hospital wanted me to go in the ambulance. Cameron and Brian were my ambulance team. Brian drove and Cameron rode in the back with me. It was a sunny day and I got to see beautiful views out the window on my way up all the steep hills to Parnassus. Cameron was friendly, and tried to carry on a conversation. My pain made it hard to talk, but once he asked about my profession I couldn’t stop talking. I love Alpha Pregnancy Center and the families we work with. I love seeing moms freed from domestic violence, freed from substance abuse, freed from the insecurities that life has given them. I love seeing parents step into this new role with the hope of Christ fueling them. I love that I gave 10 years of my life to protecting lives. And, I love talking about it. Cameron’s first attempts at conversation were met with quiet grunts and moans of pain. Upon asking about my work he must have thought I’d never stop talking.  

Cameron and Brian took me out of the ambulance and into the ED hallway. That’s where I stayed for about 10 hours. I got to make friends with my hallway neighbor that had really cool old school white Nikes. We bonded over our love for cool kicks and not needing the newest pair of J’s.  

The ED is quick to give me pain medication, so my stay there started with some drugs and an evaluation by my new nurse, Rose. We talked about the cancer diagnosis, the swollen ovary, the blood clot, and the new pain in my hip. An ED doctor also spoke with me and I had the same evaluation conversation a fourth time. They decided I needed a CT scan with contrast and not an MRI. Rose brought my favorite hospital drink, cranberry juice in a small white box with the little silver hole to punch in the drink stirrer straw. I don’t know if it was the juice or the pain medication, but I was feeling more conversational.

After a couple hours Rose went on break and Kitty took over for a minute. I’ve been in the ED enough this year that I recognized Kitty from a previous visit. I remembered Kitty being a friendly nurse and told her so. Kitty helped me get to the bathroom with a new kind of wheel chair in which patients can stand or sit.  While in the bathroom I noticed one of the tattoos in her tattoo sleeve were a few cats cuddled close together. I asked her about it and she told me about the three cats she used to have, but now she just has one dog, Snow. She never thought she could be a dog person, but she loves Snow deeply. We talked about gardening and how to get rid of the pesky snails that eat away at all our hard work. At the end of Kitty covering Rose’s break, she told me it made the ED a much better place to have friendly patients, and she thanked me for being one of them.  

When Rose returned she asked about the results of my CT scan. I hadn’t had it yet. Rose took action and found the woman in charge of the scan room and insisted I get my scan soon. After another hour or so the ED doctor came to ask how I felt about the results of the CT scan I hadn’t yet received. He took action and found the woman in charge of the scan room and insisted I get my scan soon. An hour or so later I received the scan. CT scans are really interesting. I’ve had about 6 in the past ten months. Half of the time it’s scheduled and not in the emergency room. I have to make sure I’m not wearing any metal. I walk into the hospital, check in, lay on the table, magically get moved through a circle shaped camera that takes pictures from 360 degrees, hold my breath when the machine tells me to and breathe normally when the machine tells me to, easily hop off the table when it’s all done, and walk out hopeful the results will be encouraging. The scans I’ve had during ED visits are slightly different, there is no walking, no climbing on to the table, no hopping off, and a little less confidence about the results. There is the excitement of being wheeled on my hospital bed down a hall while drugged up, trying to be friendly to the person pushing the bed but being totally unable to see them, having four strangers roll me to my side, place some board under me, roll me back down and me gritting my teeth trying not to show the pain they’ve caused, the strangers lifting the board and moving me over to the magically moving table.  

The first doctors shift ended, a new doctor started. He reviewed my charts and the new scan, and wrote for more pain meds. He let me know the tumor in my iliac crest (this is just a fancy way of saying hip bone) had grown by .4 cm since my last scan. He believes this is the cause of the excruciating pain that prevented me from being able to walk through my postage stamp apartment or having the strength to lift my one year old. He believes the best treatment for this will be radiation. He discharged me about 4.00 in the morning with instructions to follow up with my own oncologist and take my own pain meds at home.  

This week I talked to my oncologist. She set up an appointment for me to meet with the radiation oncology team the day after my next scheduled scans which is simultaneously the day before I have an appointment with her. Next week on Tuesday I’ll get some more scans, Wednesday I’ll meet with the radiation oncologist, Thursday I’ll meet with my oncologist and probably end up with a new treatment plan.  

A week ago I couldn’t walk or hold my baby. Now, the pain is mostly gone. I’ve only taken pain meds three or four times this whole week. Yesterday I walked a mile taking my baby to and from the park. I chased her around the playground and danced with her and a little boy on the playground who had a bulldozer toy that plays rock music. Catica was really impressed with his dance moves. He was impressed with her bouncing knees movement. I’m thankful that this ED visit was the shortest of the year. In January I was there for 3 days, in February for 2, and this time less than 1.  

Today, the day before Easter, I’m trusting the God who sacrificed Himself for my sins, believing that by His stripes I am healed, knowing that He raised Jesus from the dead and can certainly handle my pains (emotional and physical). I’m walking through this fiery trial with the faith of Shadrach, Meshach, and Obendego that says my God can rescue me, but even if He doesn’t I’ll still praise Him. I do believe I’ll be healed in this life, but even if my healing doesn’t come until eternity I know God can be glorified through this journey some how. Maybe it’s through brightening Kitty’s night in the ED, maybe it’s encouraging you to praise God through your own fire, maybe it’s my faith being refined as I wait for Him to complete what is impossible with man. Whatever it is I’ll keep my hope in the God of this resurrection weekend, only He can pull off a rescue like this.

  04.15.17

[unillama04-blog]

So I have chronic health issues so I spend a lot of time in hospital. Last year I spent 6 months collectively in the hospital. I’ve had mental health issues since I was 8. I tied a belt around my neck and to the bed, medication induced psychosis. I don’t remember it from the day after it. And then I had to go to camhs.

Which wasn’t good. From age 9 and a half I’ve been deeply suicidal, just thinking back to summer 2016, I was 11. I had a diary that I hid in my room. And I remember every single entry for the summer had me saying I wanted to kill myself. Then when I went to school I grabbed my diary and chucked it into an outdoor bin. I don’t think I will ever move on from that guilt.

Last year was a shit show. January I only did 2 weeks at school as my disease was back and was waiting on tests. On my last day a was out into a headlock and the girl punched the crap out of. When I was at home I had vile online bullying. My school told my parents to involve the police.

February I was rushed to hospital with a bad infection and catastrophic levels of inflammation in my intestines. I was in for 5 weeks. I was told I needed an emergency test, but the soonest they could get was 11 days as I had to have meds 3 days before so I couldn’t keep waiting every day for a slot it had to be scheduled. So I went home for 11 days. During that time I had tickets for panic at the disco I was so excited. So excited. But I was to sick to go so my family went. I told them it was fine but I sobbed at home, I was tube fed in pain and was missing out.

Then I had the procedure in April, I was told my intestines were really bad. My body was using up my medication to fast so it was ineffective and that I’d need surgery soon rather than later as if it was left I’d end up critical and needing emergency surgery. All that year I had no support from camhs, list in the system yet again. I had a new worker as mine had gone on maternity leave. Leading up to the descion of surgery my surgeon kept doubting me and saying I should have a few months of psychological support before surgery. And maybe some of my pain was psychological which when they did the op they found out it wasn’t. You can’t have poor mental health and have chronic illness as then the drs just say it’s all your fault and all in your head. I had to fight for surgery and screaming at my parents for agreeing at first with my surgeon. I was fighting for a better life. But what they didn’t see was me wrecked in my bedroom repaying hold on just until surgery. Because I had enough of my disease. I was so close to self harm but if I did I knew my surgery would of been called off. The blade and scissors pressed against my skin many times but I never dragged it to create the cut.

I had my surgery in June. It was horrible. I was in agony and ended up in the critical care unit. I was drowning in dry land. My body went out of control and my lungs filled with fluid. My stomach had temporarily paralysed. My parents didn’t visit me as much. Because of the stomach I was struggling to eat or drink and I wasn’t weened off my tube feeds so in July I was transferred to the medical ward. Sometimes I really wish that I never left critical care breathing.

July came, my dads birthday was on the 6th and there was so much pressure to be joke for his birthday it was degrading. Just eat. But every time I ate I felt so sick and was in agony. I was on pump feeds but I kept turning the pump off as it hurt too much. I got into trouble a lot for it. I was told I could go home for my dads birthday but couldn’t. And then the enormous pressure as it was my sisters 18th on the 10th and her party on the 13th. I was promised I’d be out for her birthday and I wasn’t. Her birthday Wednesday the 10th July, was when everything started snowballing. My family went out for a meal, it was all over Facebook it looked amazing. They was having so much fun. And I was stuck in a hospital bed. I was so fustraited as I had been promised I could go home for her birthday.

That night there was a girl brought in for self harm thoughts. She wasn’t supposed to be on my ward she should of been on the general med ward not complex health. I was already feeling low and hearing that stuff just made everything worse. That night I snapped a razor and it was horrible. I managed to not self harm. Then Thursday evening I was doubled over in agony it was horrible so Friday I was just wiped out. And couldn’t fake any smiles. So a student nurse who looks after me a lot came to ask me if I was okay as staff was concerned and they knew I was under camhs. She explained about her depression and I said about what had almost happened. She quoted the confidentiality crap. But I thought bcus I hadn’t done anything nobody would need to know.

But it had to be reported. then the next day was Saturday the 13th. And my consultant cane to see me and I was in a foul mood bcus if my sisters birthday. And she said “Ellie I’ve heard some very disturbing reports from the nursing staff a hour how your feeling” I asked about the home leave and doged the camhs crap. And it was horrible. I managed to get home leave for the night but had to go back to the hospital. The only doctor in the team who let me as I’ve missed out on so much. And they kept promising me that I’d be discharged.

Well I surpised my sister it was an amazing moment, but i can’t ever think of that moment and not get upset. Everyone was happy to see me. It was nice but I couldn’t eat and I had been moved to bolus feeds which were really hard. And they were all pressuring me to eat. I had to go to bed and leave the part early. I felt like utter shit. Like I had let everyone down. I was really trying to hold off the self harm. Thinking what about mum and dad like I always try when that comes into my head or if I have suicidal thoughts. But it wasn’t enough I was in my room by 9, and by 12 I couldn’t cope. Couldn’t cope with other pressures behind the scenes. Couldn’t cope with the pain. I had all the psychological crap. And I had surgery I just underestimated recover pains. I wanted to feel something. I wanted to feel pain see it fucking understand it control and stop it. I couldn’t understand anything else.

I had razors in my room but it was too late to snap them. So I used pins sissors. I was so ashamed come the morning. I couldn’t eat breakfast, more pressure. And had to pack to go back to the hospital. I had a shower. It hurt so much. That was so mentally hard. Because I had cut just before I got into the shower. As my sister had a surprise holiday reviled for the next day was so excited. Her and my mum was going abroad. I was happy for her I had knew for ages. But my dad and brother (the only ones that’s be left at home) were planning what they was going to do whilst my mum and sister was away. And my brother said “it’s like I’ve got 1 sister anyway as Ellie is never here” he has autism and didn’t mean it to cause hurt. But it was a moment I fully realised I don’t fit into the family picture. I don’t belong in just a strain on what they want to do.

With all this I was on 1-1 in the hospital whilst they got me stable mentally and physically. I was cutting a lot when I got to the hospital it was out of control I didn’t want to keep doing it but I couldn’t help it. The Sunday my nurse had noticed my ankles whilst doing my feed I said it was nothing and put them under the blanket. Then the Monday came and I was just very bad. Tuesday I turned to a trusted nurse and quietly explained. She took the blades. It’s a children’s ward I felt really shit. For how I felt and what I did. I made sure it was something I child would never really pick up. Or find. In a packet of pocket tissues. Shoved in a sick bowl (empty)

The Wednesday came and they had to tell dad. It was a shit show. I begged if they could wait until Sunday. But they couldn’t. My dad went mental called me an attention seeker he later realised it wasn’t. It was horrible. On the Sunday night when my mum and sister where flying back I got really worked up and scratched so hard 6 repetitive I’ve lined wnd one just huge mess. I didn’t realise at first because I was so anxious but afterward I went oh fuck. Because there was no getting around that one as it was my hands/wrist. On the Monday my mum had a massive conversation about my self harm and came around and she had her own history that was personal that she told me which broke my heart. She came and visited me on the Tuesday it was a massive surprise. I met her at the lifts at the end of my ward I was pushing my wheel chair. It was July so it was boiling and I didn’t have my hoodie so I couldn’t hide it.

Mum saw and flipped her shit, it broke my heart. Before we had gotten half way across the hall after being in the lifts my dad stormed off to the ward because he was furious with me. There was a massive kick off. She said that if I self harmed again she’d make sure I get sectioned. My mood abd tiufht we’re low and I opened up to the hospital psychologist abd was honest and was on 1-1.

Now it’s April 2020 and I asked to borrow a pair of scissors to change a medical dressing. It was handed over that I had them and the nurse took them off of me. Then I asked to borrow some for my cross stitch and my nurse said your not keeping them you have to give them back give your history. I have self harmed since July but badly and made sure it wasn’t too deep etc. I’m 3 almost 4 months clean. Yet I’m still treated like a head case. At this stage I just wanna die I’ve had enough as I can take of this life

[ourhappilyeverafter]

Lucy Jean

Breathe in. Breathe out. This is going to be a long post, so bear with me!

Rewind to September 2016. I was so in shock to see a positive pregnancy test. It had been over 6 years since I saw that in front of me and it was so hard to believe. I just had an overwhelming feeling that now our family would be complete.

I couldn’t believe it was true and I figured I would believe it at the first ultrasound. Nope! Second ultrasound? Nope! I was still so surprised the entire time.

The day of the 20 week ultrasound I was so anxious. I would have been happy with a boy or a girl, but deep down I had a feeling it was a little girl. When the tech confirmed my suspicion, I was still completely in shock. Over the next few months, anytime I had an ultrasound I would make them double check that it was still a girl, haha. I just couldn’t believe we would be so blessed with a sweet little boy and a little girl. It seemed too good to be true.

It was too much fun buying the cute clothes and decorating her room. I knew from the start that she would be named Lucy for my grandmother and great grandmother, both of whom I never got to meet. I also knew her middle name would be Jean, after Pete’s grandmother who recently passed away. She was like a grandmother to me and I really wanted to honor her in some way.

I had a few health issues during the pregnancy, but Lucy always looked healthy. I was always so thankful that everything that was affecting me seemed to not affect her at all.

Because the doctors all thought she would be big like Evan, my OB wanted to schedule an induction for a day before her due date, May 17th. About a week and a half before then at an ultrasound, the doctor realized she was transverse. My OB was worried that if I went into labor with her in that position, it could be dangerous for her. Therefore, he decided I should go ahead and schedule a c-section for May 11th at 39 weeks pregnant. Even though I was really hoping to avoid a c-section, I had always had the 11th in my head as the date she would be born!

The days seemed to drag on until the 11th, I was so excited and made sure the hospital bags were packed and ready. I had a pretty teal sleeper for Lucy to wear home and a little white bow. I couldn’t wait to see her in the little girl clothes and take her home to meet her big brother!

When the big day came, I was so excited. Not eating all day was a little challenging, but I was so nervous that I don’t think I could have anyway!

It was a rainy, cold day for May, but as Pete and I drove to the hospital I was so excited and happy. I imagined we would be there 3 nights and I would bring Lucy home on Mother’s Day. What an amazing Mother’s Day gift!

When we got to the hospital, everyone was so friendly. The room was so nice with a big window and a lot of space. I felt instantly comfortable and ready to spend a few days there.

When it came time for the operation, I was terrified! It was not really what I expected, although as soon as I heard Lucy cry, I was so thrilled. It made all the fear and worry go away. My little girl was here, safe and sound.

When we got back to the room, we called my parents who were ready to come over with Evan. He had been counting down the days until she was here and he was so excited!

That night, I finally got to eat a real dinner and it was amazing. My family was complete and I couldn’t be happier!

In the middle of the night, the nurses said they could watch her for a bit so I could sleep. I definitely took them up on that offer! However, around 3:00 a.m. a nurse came in to tell me that Lucy was having some episodes of rapid breathing so they were going to give her some oxygen and see if it would get back to a normal rhythm. They had her on the oxygen for about 2 hours. In the meantime, they mentioned speaking with the NICU at another hospital to see if they had an idea of what could have caused it. They told me they might have to take her there if it didn’t slow down. I spent the entire 2 hours worrying that my baby would have to leave me. Luckily at 5:30 they brought her back and said she seemed fine, the breathing had normalized, and she could stay. I was overcome with relief that my biggest fear wouldn’t be coming true.

We spent her second day snuggling with her and talking about how happy we were. Even thought my OB said I could probably leave after 2 nights, I felt fine with staying 3! It was so comfortable there and the nurses were all amazing. They offered a “celebration meal” for the family after the new baby comes. We ordered the pizza and planned to have my parents and Evan come join us for the meal.

They came right after Evan was out of school, around 4:00. Lucy was there when they arrived, but then the nurse said she needed to take her for a few minutes to run some routine tests. It had been about half an hour and she hadn’t come back. Evan kept asking when she would join us again, but I just knew deep down something was wrong. The nurse and the pediatrician came into the room soon after to tell us that Lucy was having the rapid breathing again and they had spoken with a level IV NICU team at another hospital, who felt that she should probably be transferred there. It was close to an hour away.

I was devastated. Just 12 hours before, I was relieved that she seemed to be fine. Now my worst fears had come true. They asked if I wanted to see her and I did. Despite having had a c-section about 24 hours before that, I got up and walked to the small NICU there.

It was empty except for Lucy, who was in a small clear box with all kinds of wires and oxygen hooked up. No mother expects to see her full term baby looking so sick at 1 day old. Her breathing was fast and they had all kinds of monitors on her. I was starting to have a lot of pain, so I went back to the room and planned to check on her again when the team from the NICU arrived.

Lo and Behold, that’s when the “celebration meal” arrived. Talk about a slap in the gut. It was brought in on a beautiful table with a white tablecloth and looked delicious. We were just all too upset to even eat any of it. It made me completely break down in tears.

When the NICU team arrived, I went to speak with the head nurse. They were all so calm, but I was in shock that my little baby was about to be put into an ambulance with all of these people and be taken an hour away. It was almost like an out of body experience. I felt like I was just watching all of this happen and was completely powerless. It went against every instinct I had as a mother. Who would ever expect this? No one could really tell me what would happen and as someone who likes to plan things out, I couldn’t take it. I begged them to let me be transferred to that hospital so I could be close to her. They called and asked, but unfortunately because it was a different hospital system, they were not able to do that. I knew then and there I was leaving the hospital that night. I was not going to spend two more nights without my baby in the room that I imagined would have been so full of joy.

My OB actually agreed to let me be discharged. The nurses kept asking me if I was sure I wanted to leave. Who leaves the hospital 24 hours after a c-section? But I guess my mama bear instinct kicked in and there was no convincing me otherwise. I wanted to be free to go see her and not stuck in the hospital. I really didn’t care how much pain I was in physically.

When it came time for Lucy to leave, there wasn’t any time to say goodbye. I just sat in my hospital bed and watched her wheeled away in a covered incubator. A piece of my heart left in that ambulance.

Evan was there through all of it and he climbed into the bed with me and patted my arm telling me it would be okay as I sat there and sobbed.

Pete followed the ambulance to the hospital to make sure she got there okay and said he would call and let me know any updates.

Very soon after I was discharged and wheeled out to my parent’s van to go home with them and Evan. I walked into the house and was just completely numb. Just a day before, I imagined bringing her home and here I was home without her. I immediately set a million alarms on my phone, take medication A at such and such time, medication B an hour later, pump every 3 hours. I was determined to get milk to bring to her, even if it meant being up all night.

Later that night Pete called and showed me her little room and a picture of her there. I was grateful that he was at least with her for a little while. He came home a little while later and I just couldn’t stop sobbing. Especially when he brought in her hospital bag, unpacked, and set it down. I wouldn’t open it or go into her room for the rest of the time she was in the NICU. I just couldn’t handle the emotions of it all.

The next day I woke up in a daze. I was still in incredible pain physically and was exhausted from waking up all night. Thank goodness my parents and Pete were there to help with Evan. I was just an emotional wreck.

That afternoon, Pete and I went down to the hospital to see her. She looked so tiny and fragile hooked up to all of the machines. But walking in the room and seeing her safe was a wonderful feeling.

The first few days Lucy was in the NICU, we had to wear gowns and gloves. Again, going against all my motherly instincts. Here I am holding my new baby girl and I can’t even touch her without gloves on.

Day 2 of her NICU stay was Mother’s Day. That was probably the hardest day of them all for me. I thought I would be bringing her home, but instead I was waking up at home without her. My parents had spent the night and got up to make breakfast. Everyone had made/bought me Mother’s Day cards. Evan worked really hard on his and was so excited for me to open them. I tried my hardest to smile and enjoy the sweet cards, but I was constantly on the verge of melting down in tears. I just felt like half of my heart was gone and it was almost an out of body experience. I was physically there with my family, but emotionally absent.

We decided to go down to see Lucy again that day and my parents would play with Evan at their house. I was so exhausted and dealing with a horrific headache but I just couldn’t spend the day without getting to see her. We made the long drive again and got to hold our little girl some more.

As if the poor thing hadn’t been through enough already, now she had to have an IV in her head. They called it her “unicorn horn” because it kept falling out of her wrist. At least she won’t remember it, but we felt so sorry for her!

We decided after we came back home that we could go back one more time in the evening with my parents and Evan. Unfortunately, because my parents couldn’t take their wedding rings off, they were not able to go see Lucy. The NICU is very particular on no jewelry, no cough, sickness, etc. since there are so many vulnerable babies there. We visited her again for a while and then went to eat dinner before leaving. The hospital had a Panera Bread inside which would become our go-to food place. That night I had such a terrible headache and was in so much pain that I couldn’t really eat anyway. I was sure that after Lucy was out of the NICU that I wouldn’t be able to eat at Panera Bread again!

The next day, Evan had to go to school but Pete was still off work so we were able to go down together again. I was still feeling pretty bad, but happy that Mother’s Day was over. Strange thing to say, right? That day was better when we saw Lucy.

First of all, we didn’t have to wear the gowns or gloves anymore, yay! It was so wonderful to hold her with my bare hands. She was also gradually increasing the amount of her bottles and decreasing the IV fluids. It was so wonderful to get to give her a bottle. AND no more unicorn IV! They decided it would work better in her wrist again. Pete always said it was like she had a baseball bat on her hand, if she swung it at you it would hurt! She was a little jaundice, so she had to do a day or so of light therapy. I don’t think she liked it one bit though!

You weren’t allowed to bring your phone directly into the NICU, it always had to be in a plastic bag which gave most of the pictures an ethereal type quality!

The following quote really spoke to me during Lucy’s NICU stay. I was still in so much pain physically and I am still amazed at how I managed to push through it in order to see her every day.

I would tell Lucy every day to be strong and that we would be strong together. Sometimes it was the only thing I could tell myself to get through the days.

On her 4th day in the NICU Lucy was able to go off the IV fluids and was able to eat as much as she wanted. It felt good to get through one hurdle!

That night we went to Panera Bread again as usual, but I was still feeling pretty bad and again had a hard time eating. I was pretty sure I did not want to go back there again!

We fell into a routine every time we would visit. Make the long drive down, park on level 2 of the green garage. Walk across the skywalk into the women’s hospital. There were usually pregnant women about to have their babies or mothers leaving with their new babies. Several times I was asked when I was due. That’s pretty depressing to have to tell people you already had the baby but she isn’t at home yet. :-(

After walking through the women’s hospital entrance, we made our way to the elevator and went up to level 2 to the NICU. You had to show your wristband at the front desk (which we could not take off the entire time she was there) and they would call the nurse to make sue you could come back. Once the doors were unlocked, you had to put your belongings in to a locker and then wash your hands thoroughly for 1 minute. Sometimes there were other NICU parents there washing up as well. It felt good to know someone else was going through the same emotions and experiences.

Lucy was in “The Meadow,” which was down the hall from the handwashing station. In the beginning it was so hard for me to physically even walk that far. Pete often had to help me walk and slowly make our way to her room.

Everytime we went in the room, she always looked so little. She would be swaddled in the hospital blankets and sleeping so peacefully. At the same time I just felt so helpless that she was my little baby and I couldn’t be with her 24/7. It just felt so unnatural.

The fifth day there was so exciting because she got to take the nasal cannula off! I hadn’t even seen her one full day without oxygen since she was born so it was wonderful to see her little cheeks!

I got to speak with her doctor that day, who was very optimistic that now all she had to do was finish the antibiotics and she would probably be able to come home in 2 more days. I was thrilled! I spent the car ride home being so excited that I would have only 2 more nights without her home. I felt like I finally had my appetite again and life was good.

Unfortunately on the next day, we had a setback. I arrived at the NICU feeling great and excited but as soon as I saw the nurse she explained that Lucy had a desaturation in her oxygen level. That means that her oxygen level went below 90 percent and they had to give her external oxygen in order to get it back up. The nurse said that when they have a desat, their policy is to keep them an additional three days to monitor things. She said she would check with the doctor and see what he wanted to do.

I stood there over her crib praying that he would decide she could still come home the next day. If I could have been down on my knees, I would have. I was pleading and pleading with God that things would be okay.

Well, God sometimes has a different plan then what we want. The doctor came in and confirmed that she would need an additional three days. We were now looking at Sunday as her discharge date unless she had another desat. Each time it happens, they add 3 days. So if she had gone two days without one and then had it again, that would be 3 more days on top of that. If she made it to Sunday morning, but then had one an hour before discharge, she would need 3 more days. It was uncertain and scary and I felt completely out of control. I walked out that day feeling so defeated and upset. Just when things seemed to be over, the amount of time was uncertain. My mind raced with the thoughts that it could be 3 days, or 6 days, or weeks. No one could tell me for sure what would happen and that was so frustrating. Lucy did give me an adorable smile that day!

I laughed about her funny outfit too. It was some kind of hospital gown for babies with cartoon germs all over it. I was hoping they would give it to me to save for her someday. Not exactly a cute little girl’s outfit. ;-)

When I left Lucy that day, I told her to be strong and fight through it. We just needed to get through 3 more days! The ironic thing was that that day was also her original due date. Who could have even predicted that she would be in the NICU fighting to get home on that day.

When I arrived on Day 7 of her NICU stay, I got the good news that she didn’t have any desats over night. Although I was still worried sick, it was nice to know she made it through one day.

The next day was a Saturday, so Evan didn’t have school and I felt like we should spend the morning doing something special with him. I really missed him and felt like I was neglecting him in a way. Luckily he was so amazing the entire time, although he was also sad she needed a few extra days. We went to a farm and had a picnic. It was a fun time, but I was still only really halfway present. I was so nervous that day because if she just made it through one more night, we could bring her home. I kept waiting for the ball to drop.

We went to visit her that afternoon and she had made it through day 2 of 3. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but I felt so proud of her!

When the morning of Day 9 came, I was so incredibly nervous. I called the NICU right at 6 a.m. and they told me that she had a good night again with no desats. Although I was excited, I couldn’t help but worry that something might happen on the way there. I made Pete and Evan leave right at 7 and we were there by 8. Amazingly, she was still doing great when we arrived. We had to wait around for the doctor and to fill out the paperwork, but by 10:00 Pete was able to carry her out. Words can’t describe how happy I was at that moment. 

Lucy was finally home. 

She will be a month old on Sunday. I can’t believe how fast time has gone. She is such a good, happy baby. She really only cries when she’s hungry or if her tummy is upset. She is just such a joy to us and she is worth all of the stress that we had to go through!

I know that all of the prayers we had along the way made the difference. We felt so much support and love from everyone we knew. I would have never expected her birth to have ended up that way, but I know that sometimes God has a plan that we can’t understand.

I learned from this experience that a mother’s love is infinite. I learned that being a mother makes you extremely selfless. You can push past any kind of pain to help your child. You can literally lay your own life down to save theirs. I learned that my husband is amazing. He was my rock. He helped me walk through this experience, figuratively and literally! He kept calm, kept the house from falling apart, kept Evan safe and happy, and constantly reassured me things would turn out fine in the end. It was easy to fall into dark thoughts of her being there for weeks or months, or even worse, thoughts of losing her. Pete kept positive and uplifted me. For that I am truly grateful and I am so glad we will spend our lives together. For good times and bad, we can make it through anything.

We sure love our Lucy.