One Year Later: Casey's Birth Story

Today is the one year anniversary of the day that started it all, the terrifying day when I went into labor at exactly 26 weeks gestation.  Although it is definitely emotional to think back on the events leading up to Casey's birth, I will probably be doing a lot of reflecting over the next several days about how far we have come in a year,  so I figured it was about time to write the post about my birth story and the days that lead up to her dramatic arrival.  I have tried to spare you the graphic details, and even though I have attempted to condense a whirlwind five days into something at least slightly shorter than a full length novel, there is a lot of back story I wanted to document to someday share with Casey about her miraculous beginning.  So here it is...

Most of my pregnancy had been pretty uneventful until about the last month. The first major sign that something was off was that I had developed an unquenchable thirst. We were experiencing one of the longest 100 degree heat waves in history, so I chalked it up to being pregnant in the summer (in hindsight we probably should have called my doctor the week I managed to finish 3 cases of bottled water).  I also noticed that I had very little energy for my 2nd trimester, but again I dismissed it because of the hectic weeks I spent attempting to rearrange our house and convert our office into a nursery, then followed by over two weeks of traveling. While on vacation I became increasingly more tired and even threw up a few times, which was also concerning.  On Monday immediately after I returned, I called my doctor's office and spoke to the Nurse Practitioner who thought it was just reflux and recommended I just take some Pepcid.  I also got on the scale for the first time in several weeks, and despite being convinced I would have surely gained several pounds after eating terribly while on vacation, (and let's just be honest, the last several months) I was surprised that I had lost two pounds, making my weight gain only 10 pounds for my entire pregnancy.  I already had an appointment scheduled for Wednesday, and the night before I started spotting just a little. My (not so) trusty pregnancy book assured me that it wasn't terribly uncommon, although it was a first for my pregnancy. The day of my appointment I went to lunch with my friend Alicia, and after telling her about my concerns she offered to go with me to my appointment (and I am so thankful she did!).  My appointment was not with my normal doctor (in their practice you meet with all the doctors during your pregnancy in case they happen to be the one on call when you go into labor). After listening to my symptoms, the doctor examined me and then informed me in the most casual way that I should go straight to the hospital to be monitored because he thought I was in labor, and ushered me out the door with a "Oh, and I think you have Gestational Diabetes!" After I got over my first thought of, "Excuse me, but I think I would know if I was in labor!," I headed out to the lobby to tell Alicia I needed her to drive me to the hospital.  I was in shock and honestly irritated about the Gestational Diabetes comment at that point, and thought he was sending me just as a precaution, and that at the very worst I would be going home on bed rest for a while. On the way to the hospital I called Brian and my mom to meet us there, and after arriving I was put on a monitor.  It was pretty uneventful at first, but after about an hour a nurse came in to let me know the monitor showed that I was having irregular contractions.  I was not feeling them at all, but things got pretty crazy from that point. I was checked and they realized I was dilated to a 3, they did an ultrasound to check the baby's position, and I was given a steroid shot and put on a magnesium drip (a thrilling drug that makes you feel like you might burst into flames at any minute) to try and stop my labor.  A Neonatologist came by to discuss things like "blindness," and "underdeveloped lungs," and basically all the other heartbreaking things you don't want to think about for your unborn baby.  My regular OB was in the hospital on a delivery, and after coming by to talk to me, she recommended that I transfer to another hospital where the NICU was better equipped to handle a baby born so premature.  The primary concern at this point was to stop labor, but after another hour or so it occurred to someone that I was also sent in with speculation about Diabetes and they checked my blood sugar. When the nurse came back in she announced that my blood sugar was over 600!  This sent everyone into a real frenzy thinking I might be in DKA (or Diabetic ketoacidosis - thankfully I wasn't), as that is about six times what the average person's blood sugar should be. At this point I was told that with blood sugar that high it was probably not Gestational Diabetes, and was likely permanent (turns out they were right, as today is also my one year anniversary of being an insulin dependent Type 1 Diabetic).

The paramedics arrived (for the record it is not a great idea to crack inappropriate jokes as the paramedics are transferring you to a gurney or you might find yourself being dropped) and I was transferred to Labor and Delivery at Presbyterian Hospital of Dallas (and no I didn't even get sirens for my first ever ambulance ride). At this point I think everyone felt delivery was imminent, and they were mostly hoping I could hold out another 24 hours when I could get another steroid shot to strengthen the baby's lungs.  The first night was pretty much a blur, and since we were at a new hospital we got the privilege of hearing yet another grim "prognosis for such an early baby" speech from another NICU doctor (we would actually hear this speech several more times).  My doctors did not have privileges at this hospital, so I was assigned the OB on call, which meant there were 5 rotating doctors coming by to see me, and I was continuously told slightly different things, asked the same questions, and my medical plan varied drastically depending on who was on at the time.  I spent two terrifying nights in L&D where I wasn't able to eat and could only consume clear liquids, and where I was labeled a "ticking time bomb" because I still did not feel any contractions (I was now dilated to a 5), which made it difficult to determine if my labor had stopped. By Friday, my labor had not progressed and they finally felt I was stable enough to transfer upstairs to the High Risk Floor.  While relieved to be out of L&D where you are kept in a less than comfortable labor bed and on a monitor 24 hours a day (and my little doodlebug made it her personal mission to hide from said monitor) and have a flurry of nurses and doctors in and out constantly, there were definitely a lot of emotions that came with my new accommodations, where best case scenario I would be on bed rest for another 14 weeks and the worst case I would deliver and our baby would not survive.

That first day upstairs was rough,  with a traumatic hair washing experience from a very well meaning Tech (which I can ALMOST laugh about now), two room changes, and being given some horribly heavy leg compression cuffs to wear all day to help with circulation since I wasn't permitted to move.  The next couple of days were a blur, with lots of visits from my five Obstetricians, my Endocrinologist, a Nutritionist to discuss my new diagnosis, and of course many of my concerned family members and friends.  On Sunday morning, I woke up feeling pretty good, and like maybe I could live in a hospital  bed for three more months...then breakfast came! I was put on what is called the "yellow diet" which is a nice way of saying the Starvation Diet, and let's just say that after several days prior of consuming only clear liquids, this pregnant mama was not satisfied with just one tiny silver dollar pancake and some tasteless cream of wheat.  By mid afternoon my back was really aching, which I thought was just from sleeping on the hospital bed for five nights. When I was put on the monitor for my daily check, it showed I was having contractions again.  The nurse could tell I was upset when she came in to tell me, and because my back pain was worsening and since there wasn't a comfortable position to be found after days in an adjustable hospital bed, she gave me a sedative to help me sleep.  I woke up after a couple of hours and I knew something wasn't right. I had sent Brian home earlier to do some laundry and spend some time with our dogs, but thankfully my mom was there with me.  She called the nurse, and after checking me again, a doctor came in and determined I was now dilated to an 8. At that point I was told it was inevitable that I would  be delivering that day.  We called Brian who raced across town back to the hospital, and I was quickly transferred back down to L&D.  My contractions were becoming more intense (and I was actually feeling them now), I was asked if I wanted an epidural (um, YES!), and Brian arrived just I was begging anyone who looked my way to let me push.  Three pushes later at 5:08 pm on August 7, 2011, Casey Elise Sattler arrived at 26 weeks 5 days gestation and our journey began...

Then...

and now...

 We spent last weekend at the lake, and here is one of my favorite shots.  We have definitely come full circle, as Casey is wearing the outfit I mentioned in this post, her first souvenir brought back from Mommy and Daddy's cruise last summer.

Standing with a little help from Mommy and Grandpa

 Gorgeous girl

"Look at me!"