As I sit here planning Maren's 2nd birthday party, I was quickly flooded with emotions of how she came into this world and I decided it was time to write it down, to share my story and to just get it off my chest.....

I don't know if it was how she born that makes it seem like it was just yesterday but it is all still so vivid and real in my mind that it is hard to believe that it was almost 2 years ago.  

A time that was supposed to be exciting and happy quickly turned into something larger than what I thought I could handle, EVER. We are really not religious in our house at all but this was when I realized, nothing would be thrown at me in my life that I couldn’t handle or find a way to work through, especially with the support of friends and family.  

It was Saturday, February 15th, just 3 days after my 34 week check up where everything looked great! One minute we are out shopping for Maren, finishing off her registry and the next minute, I felt achy, then my entire body was convulsing, to say I was freaked out is an understatement.  I remember everything from that day and if you know me, you know that is pretty amazing because most of the time, I don’t remember what I did yesterday. ;) 

We had breakfast at Mimi’s, went to Babies R Us, then Buy Buy Baby…as we got in the car, I told Aaron I felt funny, like I was getting the flu and that I wanted a smoothie from Jamba Juice.  So we drove ALL the way down Manchester to West County Mall for my smoothie and by the time we got there, my body was shaking uncontrollably. Minutes from the hospital, I still made him drive us home (30 minutes away) because I didn’t want to drag Mason to the hospital with us and I definitely didn’t want him to know I was slowly losing my shit.    

We got home, I called the nurse, waited for her to call back and in the meantime, I had my dad come over to stay with Mason.  At this point, I was still shaking, my entire body, head to toe, I could not stop it.  And there was no fever.  The nurse called back and recommended we head in to get checked out.  

I gave Mason and my dad a hug, crying.  I really wasn’t sure what was going on and if everything was going to be ok and I was scared.  I could see the concern in my dad’s eyes, not a look I see often. We headed to Mercy, by the time we arrived my convulsions had stopped and I had a fever. The check in process and waiting for someone from labor and delivery to come get me felt like an eternity.  

We got into the room, got me all hooked up and they immediately started asking me questions and running tests. Blood work, flu swabs, etc.  You name it, they did it.  They checked on Maren, which I have to add, was my first exam ever by a male OBGYN and it was strange…I prefer my lady docs, no offense to the male doctors of the world, you are important too. Just a personal preference for me.  Of course, she was breech (on Thursday at my 34 week appt she was head down).  They did an ultrasound to confirm her position just in case delivery was necessary.  After a lot of Dr’s came in and out, questions were asked, test results were shared (inconclusive for most), possibilities being discussed about what may happen with me or Maren they finally got my fever under control but Maren’s heart rate was not slowing down. They still had no answers as to why I had a fever and what was going on but they made the decision that an emergency delivery was inevitable.  Her little body couldn’t maintain a heart rate so high for much longer. We were aware of the possible outcomes of my “infection” and her early delivery, this is when it all started to become more real, scary and a little blurry.  

I remember Aaron and I talked about how my OB had just told me on Thursday at my check up that since I was 34 weeks, if she were to be born early, her lungs should be fully developed.  That gave us hope, we put on a smile, called our families, took some selfies so we could document the moments (duh) and started the process for an emergency c-section.  

Due to the fact that I had a possible infection, anesthesia was extremely concerned and had a time window to get the epidural in and out without causing more serious problems.  We made a decision on which route to go (she gave us many options and all of the possible outcomes) and they wheeled me back.

I remember the nurses, the OBGYN who was going to perform the procedure, the NICU Dr all being so calm and caring.  One of the nurses asked me what I wanted to listen to during my c-section, it was like a scene from Grey’s Anatomy.  I, of course, said John Mayer. His music always calms me down.  

I laid there, half aware of what was going on because when my anxiety sets in, I tend to block out everything around me.  I heard talking, I vaguely remember the conversations going on in the room as they worked quickly to get Maren out into the world and safely into the hands of the best NICU staff in St Louis. 

A few minutes later, she was here at 5:56pm. 5lb 2oz and 17.5 inches long. My little peanut. I had high hopes that everything would be fine and that the NICU Doctor’s had less work in store for them than they prepared for but I was wrong. I wasn’t expecting her to be struggling to breathe so much because I had just been told 3 days before, her lungs would be developed if she came early, I wasn’t expecting not being to get that first picture holding her because she needed oxygen and to be rushed off to the machines that would be her safety net for the next 7-10 days. They quickly showed her to me and she was perfect, she didn’t cry right away and she definitely was having problems breathing on her own.  My heart sank, I was now officially in panic mode but stuck on a table, helpless. 

Aaron kept a close eye on her as they put the little mask to her mouth to help her breathe.  He still got to cut her cord and they even took a second to remove her from the mask to bring her to me for a kiss before quickly taking her to the NICU.  All I remember is looking over from the table and seeing this little girl I had carried for 7.5 months laying there, almost lifeless and feeling like I failed.  I felt so scared, wondering what I done and how I could have prevented this, wondering if she would be ok and then I felt angry because this wasn’t how this was supposed to happen.  She was 6 weeks early, her lungs were supposed to be ok by now, she wasn’t due until March 29th and it was February 15th…it was like a flood of emotions had come over me and the days events were finally starting to sink in.  Luckily, Aaron was able to go with Maren and stay with her while I was in recovery.  

My family came in a few at a time to say hi and I tried really hard to be strong. At this point, I really didn’t know the severity or condition of Maren other than they took her to the NICU to examine her and get an idea of what was going. 

I wanted nothing more than for Aaron to come back with great news and that she would be put in the regular nursery….that isn’t how that went though. 

Given my situation prior to delivery and the unknown, they put us both on TONS of antibiotics in heavy doses to fight off whatever infection I had and to be sure it didn’t impact her little developing body.  Once I was done in recovery, they wheeled me down to her in the NICU where I would get my first real glance at my baby girl but I wasn’t allowed to hold her.  Her heartbeat was too high and she needed to stay in her bed where the monitors could help her, even too many touches would be bad.  I was heartbroken.  All I wanted to do was scoop her up and tell her everything would be ok and I couldn’t. Again, the feeling of helplessness sunk in and I felt like as a mom, I had failed. 

Now, I don’t remember from here whether or not they explained her situation to me in her NICU room or in my room but either way, the Dr’s kept telling me she was “really sick.” Every time I heard that phrase, I would get knots in my stomach and I would start to block everything out…a.k.a. my anxiety would sink in….but basically it boiled down to the fact that her lungs WERE NOT developed and she was really struggling to breathe on her own.  I am probably going to butcher most of this because I am not a Doctor but she needed oxygen and a cpap machine, plus a heart rate monitor and respiratory monitor along with other "bells and whistles” (that is the VERY technical term) that would use to track her progress while hooked up to all of the loud beeping machines…the machines that would become my arch nemesis because every time they went off, it would mean a set back and more time in the NICU, but we will get to that another day. 

I remember for at least the 1st day, maybe part of the 2nd, I would send Aaron to check on her, I was avoiding the reality of seeing her all hooked up to tubes with her little belly working so hard to breathe.  I didn’t want to see it, I didn’t want to be sad. I wanted to pretend it didn’t happen.  I kept using the excuse that it wasn’t easy for me to get down to her room give my c-section pain.

To be continued….time to snuggle my perfect, almost 2 year old preemie and watch Frozen. <3