Back in the Hospital

Camryn is back in the ER again. She wouldn't eat willingly at all starting the night before last. I had to force-feed her with a soft bottle that worked like a dropper when I squeezed it. That continued all day yesterday. I took her to the urgent care, and they said to watch her for a while and take her to the ER if it continued. They told me to make sure to force-feed her at least 2 ounces every 2 hours. I fed her at midnight, and then my mom offered to take the 2am feeding so I could sleep longer. I asked Chauncey to set an alarm for me, and I went to bed (Camryn is so sleepy from the Jaundice that she doesn't wake up on her own to eat at all).

She got even worse, and her belly got pretty bloated, so at 2:30 my mom and Chauncey decided to take her to the ER. They thought that since I hadn't slept more than 2 hrs since last Tuesday (before my fall and going into the ER and all that drama), that they would let me sleep. They left a note.

I am ashamed to say that I slept until 6am. That's when Chauncey got home from the ER. My mom stayed. I asked where the baby was and was shocked to find out where she was. At first I was annoyed. But I know that they meant well in letting me sleep. At least this time when I got to the ER, I didn't have to watch her go through anything. She was already under lights when I arrived.

Her biliruben went back up to over a 16, which is the number that sent us to the ER to begin with on Monday. The doctor isn't sure why her biliruben went back up. She said that usually by this age, they can regulate it on their own. She is testing her for an enzyme deficiency. They will test her biliruben again at 3. The pediatric ward is full, so we are staying for most of the day in the ER.

Coming Home!

Hooray! We get to come home today! They took Camryn's blood again this morning, and her labs came back showing that her bilirubin had gone up, not down, so the resident told me that we may have to stay an extra day. But then the attending physician came and said that we can go home because the level hasn't risen enough to concern him. We just have to go to her pediatrician for another test today or tomorrow. Hooray! I can't wait to get out of here. 1 week of being in the hospital is too much!

My Poor Baby

Our beautiful little Cameryn Emily Bratt was born on Friday, April 22. She had higher levels of bilirubin than normal, but the hospital monitored her and decided to let her go home with us on Sunday, with the stipulation that I needed to get her tested again the next morning. I took her in on Monday, and the pediatrician said that he thought she would be fine and be able to stay home. She got her little heel pricked again at the lab, and we went home. That evening, the doctor called us back and said that we needed to rush her to the ER to get her ultra-violet light therapy because her bilirubin level had risen to 16.8. We took her in, and they tested her again in the ER. Then they let me know that her level was at about 18. Yikes! I believe that the level at which they do a blood transfusion is around 21.

Maxwell had had light therapy when he was a few days old, but they just ordered some equipment to be sent to my house, and I took care of him myself. But here, everything has to be done in the hospital.

They hooked my little one up to an IV, but it took them FIVE ATTEMPTS before they were able to get it in. They stuck needles in each of her hands and arms to no avail, and then they finally got one into her tiny leg. I felt sick watching them hurt my baby and listening to her scream.

They took five flasks of blood. Her eyes rolled back when they were taking the last bit. They said she was dehydrated. I wanted them to leave my baby alone, but I knew that she needed the light therapy, so I let them continue.

She had a little bit of orange spit-up on her clothing, and so the doctor ordered an X-Ray for her in case of a bowel obstruction. I was really nervous about such a young baby getting an X-Ray, so I asked her if that was really necessary. She said they needed to figure out what was wrong. We then went to get the X-Ray, and the tech made me wear a big, thick lead vest. He told me to put her down on the table. He walked to the back of the room. I said "Wait, aren't you going to put a vest on her?" He said that you can't wear a vest for an abdominal X-Ray. I asked "But is that safe? Won't that mess with her fertility or something?" He said "No. It's perfectly safe. In fact, it's no worse than eating something out of the microwave." I had a hard time believing that. Nobody makes me wear a giant lead vest when I use my microwave. If it's so safe, why did I have to wear a vest?

I felt sick about everything. I felt so bad for her. She wasn't even supposed to be born for a few more weeks, and here she was being stuck with needles, IVs, blood draws, and X-Rays. It must have been so traumatic for her--it was for me. Finally, they sent us up to the pediatric unit and got her light therapy started. We had been at the ER for about 3 hours before she got any lights, so I was worried about the wasted time. They came and took her blood again every three hours. They told me to only take her out of her incubator to feed her, and to do so every 2 hours for up to 15-20 min.

I was up all night. I took a couple of short power naps in between the feedings, but with nurses coming in and out of the room, getting up to put her eye-coverings on every now and then, the bright florescent lights, and the beeping monitors, and listening to her scream when they took another little flask of blood from her heel every 3 hours, I only got about a total of 1 1/2 to 2 hrs of sleep.

Her level went down to 16 something by 3am, then 14 something by 9am, and then 13.6 by lunchtime. They told me that if her levels went down enough by 8pm tonight that they would turn off the lights and just monitor her overnight, and that if her level stayed down without the lights, we could go home in the morning.

Unfortunately, they came in and told me that her level is exactly the same that it was from the blood draw that was 7 hours before: 13.6. Luckily, that's not a terrible number. It's close to the point when she can turn off the lights. But the scary thing is that it didn't go down at all in 7 hours. They are doing another blood draw at midnight. I have now been living at the hospital since last Wednesday. I went home Sunday evening and spent one night, but tomorrow will make one week away from my boys. I am hoping that it will go down so I can take my baby home and see my little boys!

A Very Unconventional Beginning to a Very Happy Ending

After the events I wrote about in my last post on Wednesday, My Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, (the day I slipped and fell on a huge puddle of yellow-orange vomit in a hospital bathroom and hurt my leg), many more crazy things happened.

Basically, the day started with my slipping in vomit and injuring my leg, transitioned to enduring over 30 hours of labor, and then ended with my holding a beautiful little 6 pound, 9 ounce girl in my arms for the first time.

After I called my mom and told her about slipping in the vomit in the hospital bathroom and hurting my leg, and about the janitor had told me that she had been paged four times about the mess before I fell, my mom told me that I should call the hospital to leave a complaint. If the janitor had responded to the first or second page, I wouldn’t have fallen in it. Anyway, I called and left a message with the patient services at the hospital (without mentioning the thing about the janitor being paged four times). I got a call back two minutes later, and they connected me to their risk management office (the lawyers). I let them know what happened, that I was 8 ½ months pregnant, so my fall was more awkward, and that my leg was hurting. They urged me to come into their ER so they could make sure that I was ok. They asked whether I wanted them to cover the costs of the visit. I said that would be nice. They again urged me to come in immediately. I agreed. I waited for Chauncey to get home and for Jackson to wake up from his nap. Then Chauncey got the the boys in the car, and they dropped me off at the hospital. My phone was dead, so I was going to trade with Chauncey before getting out of the car. I forgot to trade though, so I had no phone.

I checked into the ER at 5:45, and they knew I was coming. They didn’t make me register. I still had to wait for two hours, but that was a lot faster than most of the other people there had to wait. I figured that I would just be seeing someone about my leg and then be sent home. Instead, they sent me straight to labor and delivery to do a non-stress test to make sure the baby was ok. I had told them I had no abdominal or back pain and that I hadn’t had any contractions. But they were still worried, so that’s where they sent me, in a wheel-chair. When they started the test, they came in after 10 minutes or so and asked if I knew that I was having contractions every minute. I said no, and that I felt nothing. They said that they needed me to stay for at least six hours to be monitored. I was starving. I hadn’t eaten since 1:30 that afternoon, and now I had to stay for another six hours. Their cafeteria was closed. I wanted to call Chauncey and tell him that I had to stay, but I had no phone. I stayed, and they checked me for dilation. I was at a two, which is no big deal. I was due in 3 ½ weeks, and this is my third baby, so that was not surprising. I asked them if I could call Chauncey. They got a special code for long-distance and let me call him to give him the number to call my room. I let him know about my needing to stay the night, and that I wanted him to call me back in a while to see if I had any more info. It was so annoying that I didn’t have my phone! They checked me several hours later, and I had dilated TO A FIVE! That was worrisome. They started worrying that I was actually in labor. They told me I needed to stay for monitoring until at least noon the next day. I thought I would starve to death.

One resident came in and told me that she had gotten a copy of my ultrasound report from the hospital that I was supposed to be delivering at, Northwestern Memorial. In it was a note that I needed a follow-up ultrasound 4 -6 weeks later because I had a suspicious-looking thing on my placenta that looked like my placenta might be attached to my scar-tissue from my previous pregnancy. She explained that if that was the case that I would have to have a C-Section because I could bleed to death if I tried a vaginal delivery. She got me to sign a consent form for a C-Section, a consent-form for a V-BAC, and a consent form for a hysterectomy (if I was going to die if they didn’t have one). I told her that I REALLY wanted a V-BAC, not a C-Section and that they couldn’t do a hysterectomy unless they thought I would bleed to death otherwise.

The resident then set up an ultrasound appointment for me. It normally takes days to get an appointment, but they put me in as an urgent case and got me down there a few hours later. When I got down there, instead of just being the ultrasound tech, the attending physician was there as well. I have never had the attending physician perform the ultrasound. He said “So you’re the lady who fell.” I said yes. He said “The whole hospital's been talking about you. In fact, the whole University knows about you.” I felt awkward. I hadn’t threatened a lawsuit or anything—I’m not the suing type. It got a little more awkward when the lab tech asked if either of us were students here. Chauncey said that he was. She asked what he studied. He said he was in law school. They both said “Oh.” I was too embarrassed to tell them that I was already a lawyer. Everything looked fine with the ultrasound, so they sent me back upstairs.

The attending physician came in and let me know that she strongly recommended that I be induced that day because of the possibility of an abruption, my contractions during the night, and my getting dilated to a five—and that all of this had happened after I fell. I was nervous about it and worried that they may be pushing induction to cover themselves and avoid liability. I told the physician that I was worried that if I were induced, that my chances of needing a C-Section would be higher, and that I wanted to have a V-BAC. She said that they would try to make that happen for me. I told her that with my first when I was induced, that it ended in a C-Section.

They induced me at 3:00 on Thursday. I was still at a five, and I had been for about 12 hours. I was in labor for hours, and off and on I felt very strong contractions. I got my epidural when the contractions got bad. Somewhere down the line, the contractions became very mild, and I stopped progressing. I got dilated to a seven after many hours, but I stopped there. That really freaked me out because seven is where I got stuck with Maxwell and had to get a C-Section. They had the pitocin up to 28 million units per hour (they are only allowed to go up to 30 million units per hour). I was still not progressing. They came in and told me after I had labored for about 13 hours that if I didn’t start progressing more once they kicked it up to 30, that I would have to be taken off of pitocin, be given an hour without it, and then start again from 0 and work back up to 30 to induce my labor. She mentioned again that if that didn’t work, that I would have to have a C-Section. I asked Chauncey to give me a blessing and I prayed for contractions to start. They came in and pushed the machine up to 30, the maximum amount, and my contractions started. I was able to dilate from a seven to a nine in the next several hours.

About 20 hours after I had been induced (30 hours total of labor including some of the time from the evening before when I progressed to a 5), the baby's heartbeat started dropping with each contraction. This is exactly what happened with Maxwell. I was worried sick again about having to get a C-Section and that all those hours of labor would be wasted. Luckily, the attending physicians came in and said that although they were uncomfortable with the heartbeat, that it was ok as long as we closely monitored it. They said that they would let me try continuing my labor if they could pump me full of fluid again (they had broken my water earlier). They thought that it was possible that the baby was being smashed up against the umbilical cord during contractions, which could cause the heartbeat to go down. They said that putting fluids back into my uterus could cushion the cord. They put internal monitors in me to replace the external ones (for the heartbeat and contractions) which were more accurate, and they pumped me full of fluid. The fluid of course had no way of staying in, so it kept coming out as they pumped it in. The nurses had to constantly change my pads beneath me. It felt like I was constantly wetting my pants for several hours.

The baby’s heartbeat became more even, so I kept going for a while. Then it got bad again, so they hooked me up to oxygen, they turned off all pitocin, and they hoped that my weak natural contractions would be enough to get the baby to come down and get me to a ten. The resident told me that they had to turn off the pitocin because “things were just getting way too dramatic for everyone.” Unfortunately, even without the pitocin, with the fluid being pumped in, and with the oxygen, her heartbeat was going down even with the small contractions. The attending physicians both came in and checked my dilation which was about a nine, and the baby’s position, which was about -1 (meaning not ready to be pushed out because she was too high), and they said that I could give pushing a try even though she hadn’t come all the way down yet. I could not even feel when I was having contractions without the pitocin because they were so weak. This would mean that I would have to do all the work myself instead of having the help from the contractions. Normally, when you get to the pushing phase, you have a natural urge to push when it is time, but because my contractions were so weak and the baby was not down where she needed to be, I had no feeling that I should push. Also, my epidural was very weak by now, so I could feel everything. They had previously made the dose even lower once her heartbeat started acting up.

I wanted to go ahead and give it a try. They had to stand in front of the monitor to tell me when I was having contractions because the contractions were too weak for me to feel them. I began pushing, and it did not feel like anything but pain was coming of it. I couldn’t feel the baby coming down at all, and I knew that I would be going at that for a long time. The baby’s heartbeat stayed normal, so the attending physicians said I could keep going with that and that they would come back in to check on me. I kept pushing, and then after about an hour, they told the nurse to put the pitocin back on to make my contractions stronger. The baby’s heartbeat was still doing fine, so they were able to keep the pitocin on for a while.

I pushed for about 3 hours, and by the time I could finally feel the baby moving down, I felt like I was going to either throw up or pass out. When I had Jackson, I was excited to finally have him and was able to get him out quickly. But this time, I had been awake for over 56 hours, I had eaten almost nothing in about the last 50 hours, and I had been in labor for around 30 hours (or 23 hours if you start counting from the induction). I pushed as much as I could, but that was not much because of how weak I was. She was finally born, and I laid there and tried to catch my breath as they stitched me up. It took me 45 minutes before I could ask the nurse if I could look at her and hold her—I was too out of it before then to ask. I was weak and pale.

Then I finally got to see her, and she was beautiful. 6 pounds, 9 ounces, and she definitely looks like a girl.

My Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Today was one of those days. I woke up and got the kids ready for the day. I was going to give them baths, so I started the water on the tub. I undressed the boys and took them into the bathroom to put them into the bathtub. I lifted Jackson and was about to set him down, when I noticed that the water was a yellow-brown color. Nasty! Then I remembered the email that had been sent out about turning off all the hot water in the building. I guess I got the last of it from some dirty pipes or something.

Next, I dropped off Maxwell to my friend's house and drove to Jackson's doctor's appointment at the hospital. (He had tubes put in a couple weeks ago, so we went for a follow-up visit). Anyway, after the visit, I stopped to visit the bathroom. I had Jackson in the stroller, so I did what I always do in public restrooms, and walked backwards in to the handicapped stall, and I pulled the stroller in with me.

Suddenly, I slipped and fell. I fell hard. Keep in mind that I am 8 1/2 months pregnant, so there was no stopping me once I started to fall. At first, I thought the floor had just been mopped because the floor was VERY wet. Then I realized that both of my hands were covered in whatever substance it was, and that it wasn't water. Could there really be that much urine on the floor? No, it was worse. When I looked at my hand and saw the YELLOW-ORANGE VOMIT on it and smelled it, I nearly threw up myself. I struggled to get up off the floor, covered in some unknown person's vomit, pushed the stroller out with my elbows, and washed my hands--luckily the sink was a motion-sensing one. I got some paper towels and started wiping the vomit off of my coat, pants, and shoes. I was shaking because of how grossed out I was.

A hospital employee came in shortly after, and I told her what had happened. She got me some disinfectant wipes, and I wiped my clothes down again, as well as the stroller. Luckily, Jackson was a trooper and just stayed in a stroller through everything.

Then I walked back to the car. My leg was hurting, but I figured it was fine. I was able to lift my stroller into the car, buckle Jackson into his car seat, pick up Maxwell from my friend's house, and drive home. When I parked in my parking lot though, I got out and started to walk over to let the boys out. I had sudden, sharp pains in my leg, even when I stopped and just stood there. I had to sit back down in the car. I couldn't walk on it--especially not the 1 1/2 block to our house from our parking lot with my two kids. I called Chauncey and told him I couldn't get the kids out of the car and home. I cried in the car until he got home because I was still covered in some nasty unknown person's vomit, I couldn't walk, and I couldn't get my kids out of the car. I sat wondering, will the pain stop? will I be able to take care of my kids for the next few weeks before I have a baby?

Chauncey came to my rescue. He came home right after his class instead of staying at school to study. We only had to wait in the car for 15 minutes before he got off the bus and joined us. He got the kids out and helped me walk up to our apartment.

I was looking forward to taking a hot shower to get rid of the vomit, but when I turned the water on, it was icy cold. Then I remembered that they had turned the hot water off today for maintenance. I then proceeded to take an icy cold one. I couldn't wait two more hours for hot water before cleaning up the vomit. I didn't want to sit down on my furniture or infect anything else. It was horrible.

Then, before I had a chance to get dressed, our janitor knocked on the door. He had to light all the pilot lights. Chauncey helped me walk into our bedroom and answered the door. I was so glad that he was home!!! If nobody answers the door, I think they just walk in to light it (since they sent an email out in advance letting us know about everything).

Chauncey then had to leave for another class. He was able to put Jackson down for his nap first. Right after he left, our smoke detector went off. I knew that if it woke Jackson up that I would have to lift him out of his crib and take care of him, which I don't feel like I can do right now while I can hardly walk. I hobbled over, opened a window, and got a big piece of cardboard to fan the smoke detector. I leaned against the wall to be able to do this. I guess one of the janitors had brushed up against our oven and turned it on somehow, and we had some food that had fallen into there, so it was burning and making a lot of smoke.

Now I am sitting on my couch, waiting for Chauncey to come home after his class, and waiting for my leg to stop hurting. Today was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Cubs Game

We went to a Cubs game last week with some friends, and it was really fun. Here are a few pictures.

Names for Baby Girl

The baby is due in six weeks, and we don't have a name yet. Chauncey loves names like Emily, Emma, and Emmie. A couple of other names that have been on our list are Madison and Kenzington. So far, either friends or family have told me that they hate some or all of those names. When I find out how many people hate a certain name, I start to dislike it too. We have been through several name books, and nothing has really stood out. If we don't come up with something soon, this poor baby won't have a name.

Any favorite names or suggestions? Note that I am not a huge fan of too much alliteration: it can start with a "B," but not "Br." I don't want to have a little "Brooke Bratt" or anything like that. Nor am I a fan of months, seasons, or earth-child names like Echo. Thanks.