So, the last post I wrote about Nathaniel's birth ended with him being born. Seems like a logical place to stop, right? Only in this case, the story continued.
I was taken back to my room for recovery with nurses. At that time, John went to go see Nathaniel. The neonatologist told him that Nathaniel might need to be transferred to Children's Hospital in Detroit for more specialized care. I was really scared by this! His lungs weren't doing as well as they would have hoped, and he wasn't able to maintain his temperature as well as some other things that they were still testing for. John went to go get my mom (my dad needed to stay with sleeping Jeremiah, so he couldn't drive her) because I wanted my mommy. I was not feeling good at all.
When my mom got there, they were trying to take me off oxygen, but they weren't able to. My oxygen sat (I think that's what they called it) would drop every time they tried. They said it wasn't a big deal. My mom got to see but not touch her newest grandson. She told me how beautiful he was, but the doctors were still unsure of his status.
Around midnight, they went home to get some rest. Meanwhile, I would have one of the longest nights of my life. For starters, they hooked up the magnesium, which makes you feel sick. For another, the oxygen mask was making me itch like crazy. But whenever they would take it off or even turn it down much, my oxygen level dropped way too far and crazy alarms went off. And of course, I was worried about my baby. My nurse took pity on me at one point and took a picture of him, printed it off, and let me keep it so I could see his sweet face.
I think I got no more than about an hour of sleep that night. My blood pressure and oxygen were both going crazy all night. The alarms were literally going off every 5 minutes or so. Finally, the nurse stopped coming to check on me and just stayed in my room all night long. Around 7 or so, the attending doctor (not the one who delivered Nathaniel) came in on rounds, and I remember crying. I apologized and she said "It's okay, I know you're tired." I cried something about it not being that, but I wanted to see my baby and I was in pain, etc. She was very sympathetic and said she'd had a baby recently and if they hadn't let her see her baby, she would cry too.
John and my parents came at some point (Jeremiah was taken to daycare) and sat with me in my dark room, saw the baby, and tried to comfort me. I was in a LOT of pain. I asked the nurses if there was any more pain medicine I could take, and she said there wasn't. They also were still considering moving Nathaniel to Children's.
Around 11, they were finally able to take off the oxygen mask. They also decided I needed to eat. I managed to take some clear broth and keep it down. If you've followed the story, keep in mind John had gone home to get me snacks for during the night based on how hungry I was after my last surgery. Guess I didn't need those this time! :)
Around 2, I was stable enough to be transferred to the Mother Baby unit. They said once I could go to the bathroom and sit in a wheelchair, they would take me to see my baby. So that became my immediate goal. The nurse was trying to do vitals and other things and I was like "Can't I try now?" She was like "We have to finish this." (My memories are hazy on exactly what she was doing because the day was just awful and I was in so much pain.) And then she looked at my chart and asked me "So, what's the deal with you and pain medicine? Is there a reason you've been refusing all pain medicine?" WHAT?!?!!!!? I had been asking and asking for it and told I couldn't have any more! I told her as much. She re-checked the chart and said all I had been given since my surgery was extra-strength Motrin. Well, at least we figured out why the pain was so bad compared to my last C-section!
Finally, I was able to go see Nathaniel. He was so little and still in his isolette. The tubes and wires were a little overwhelming. Listening to the doctors and nurses explain what was going on with him was even more overwhelming. Not being able to hold him was even more painful. The uncertainty of how he would do was probably the most painful of all.
Once I saw him, I went back to the room to rest. Now that I had taken pain medicine, I was feeling a lot better!