I refer to Fiona as Baby because at the time, we did not know if she was a boy or a girl and called her Baby. I had a very happy pregnancy. Once the nausea stopped, I loved being pregnant. I loved my growing belly, I loved feeling the movements inside me, I felt sexy. I had no health issues and my weight gain was where it should have been. My blood pressure and blood sugar and iron levels were perfect.
The last pictures taken during my pregnancy, about a week before Fiona’s birth. The funny looking man next to me is my Uncle Richard.
On June 3, 2010 at 2:00pm I had an appointment for an ultrasound with a perinatologist to check my amniotic fluid levels. During the ultrasound, Baby’s heart rate decelerated, called fetal bradycardia. I was sent to Labor and Delivery (L&D) at the hospital, that was luckily only a block away. I was admitted to triage and had a fetal heart rate monitor and a contraction monitor placed on my belly. I sat there, chatting with Fiona’s dad and the nurses, for several hours. Eventually I had a biophysical profile (an ultrasound that checks baby’s organs and vitals) and everything looked great. The size was good, fluid levels were perfect, all organs working properly, the heart looked great, the heartbeat just where it should be. No contractions in sight. Baby was kicking up a storm the entire time, and during the ultrasound, we saw the kicking (as I was feeling it), and watched as Baby licked, then started sucking on the umbilical cord.
After what seemed like hours, the doctor on call, who happened to be one of my obstetricians, came to see me and decided to keep me over night for observation. He told me that they suspect that fetuses occasionally drop their heart rates and that it was probably nothing serious. I later learned that he consulted with my other obstetrician and they debated about letting me go home. The decision to have me stay was sort of off-hand and a very good one.
Everyone was happy and I was told I would be allowed to eat finally, having eaten nothing since lunchtime. It was now after 6:00pm. I ordered dinner and walked to my new room. I was in my room for about 15 minutes, Fi’s dad was making a list of things to get from home and people to call to inform that I wasn’t coming in to work the next day, a nurse tech brought in dinner, and one of the L&D nurses came in and told me to rotate to my left side. Then she told me to get on all four and rock. I asked what happened and she told me that the thing that happened during the initial ultrasound, the thing we thought was no big deal, was happening again. Baby had two episodes of bradycardia, followed by a tachycardia (accelerated heart rate).
The doctor advised that the bradycardias were probably serious and were causing Baby distress. He informed us of the potential consequences of leaving Baby in and had the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) charge nurse explain what sort of care Baby would receive if we decided to deliver. Not wanting to risk the life or health of our first born child, we decided to deliver.
At 8:22pm on Thursday June 3, 2010 Fiona Zenja was delivered via emergency c-section. She weighed 3 pounds 10 ounces and was 16.5 inches long. Her APGAR score was an 8/9. She was pink, and kicking and screaming. I cried. The NICU nurse put her next to my cheek for a few seconds and I kissed her. I did not see again until the following day. She was whisked away to the NICU where she was intubated, given surfactants to keep her lungs from collapsing, IV lines were inserted in her belly button, a gavage tube was put into her stomach, and she was hooked up to heart rate, oxygen saturation, and respiration monitors. She was extubated (had her ventilator removed within 12 hours of birth).
It turns out she had an occult prolapsed cord. That doesn’t mean that her cord was part of a crazy group of people who like to stand in circles around pentagrams and chant by candle light. Occult in the medical sense means that the problem is hidden. Fiona’s cord was positioned below her, between my pelvis and her head. When she stretched, she cut off her own oxygen. The body is an amazing thing, and it decelerated her heart rate to keep from overloading her organs. The first thing that came out when the doctor cut me open was the umbilical cord. Luckily Fiona recovered quickly enough all those times before any brain damage happened. Every medical professional who hears our story tells us how lucky we are. My OBs are still in disbelieve at how fortunate we were that all of this occurred during an ultrasound. Most of the time this condition is never caught. One day mom notices that the baby stopped kicking and by then it is too late and the parents have a stillborn.
Fiona is truly our miracle baby.
Thus begins our journey as parents of a preemie.
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