Friday, July 27, 2012

Yesterday's gory details and Biscuit gets a middle name.

For those of you that have asked about details (via email or instant messages or whatever), here’s the gory story of yesterday’s adventures.  I realize my post said I was hemorrhaging in Labor & Delivery.  I posted from my cell and meant it to say I was in Labor & Delivery because of hemorrhaging.  Slightly different.  haha
Leslie took the oldest four to the library along with her two girls.  Squdge woke up from his nap around 3:30 and asked me for a drink of water. While I was in the kitchen I felt a big gush of fluid.  I thought my water broke.  But then I saw blood on my skirt.  I froze.  Would Squdge notice?  Then another gush of fluid and there was a pool of blood around my feet.  I reached for the house phone because my cell was on the little table by the glider rocker (and I didn't want to leave a trail of blood). 

I called Leslie's cell-- but she didn't answer.  I called Sarah.  No answer.  I called Jeannie.  No answer.  I called the library and said, "My sister is there with my kids and I'm having an emergency."  They said, "What's her name?" and then put me on hold. 
Then I had another big gush of fluid.  I tried to use my skirt (which is a big skirt with a lot of fabric) to stop the bleeding.  And to hide it from Squdge.
Squdge started saying, "Mommy what happening?  Mommy okay?"
After being on hold like a minute with the library, I started thinking I needed immediate help like 911.  But who would watch the three little ones if an ambulance took me away?  I couldn’t get a hold of anyone.
The librarian came back to the phone and asked if I wanted to leave a message for Leslie to call me back.  I said, "No, just tell her to come home immediately.  This is an emergency!"
Then I called Angela—even though I knew her kids were probably napping.   “Angela, this is Nikki,” I said trying really hard to not sound scared for Squdge’s sake.  “I’m hemorrhaging and I can’t get a hold of my sister Leslie.  She took the oldest 4 and her girls to the library for their summer reading program.”
“I’m on my way,” Angela started to respond.
“Oh thank you!  I will open the garage door because it's closest to me,” I told her.  "I can't get to the front door."
I was able to foot-mop the blood with the nearest washcloth when Squdge wasn't looking.  And I used my toes to pick it up, turned to rinse it out and dropped it down again to mop up more.  Most of the blood was up by the time Angela got there.
I also called my OB’s office and talked to the nurse.  I was growing very weak at that point.
“I’m hemorrhaging!” I said.
“Who is this?!” she said alarmed.  I told her my name.  She said, “Go to the hospital right now!”
Squdge was still standing next to me patting me.  “Mommy okay?”
And I said, “Yes, Buddy.  Can you go get Mommy’s phone?” I pointed over to the glider with the table next to it that had my cell phone.
He brought it over to me happily.
Angela arrived and I asked her if she could see blood through the back of my skirt—hoping for Squdge’s sake they couldn’t.  Then I had to use the bathroom urgently.  Angela suggested I call 911.   
When I sat on the toilet and lost another 1/3 cup of blood plus multiple clots, I decided to call 911 because I thought that the placenta or cord was coming out.  I felt a lot of tissue coming.
The 911 dispatcher tried to determine what part of the baby was on its way out.  I told her that the baby was moving and I thought maybe it was just my placenta.
Emergency vehicles started arriving with sirens blaring.  Security Forces.  Fire Engine.  Some emergency response team.  The ambulance.  I was at that point sitting on a wooden chair by the front door so as not to soak the couch, glider/rocker, carpet, etc.  My pad and under garments and skirt looked like a horrid crime scene and I had an extra washcloth stuffed in there to catch more (because I saw the pads as absolutely worthless).  But there was more blood coming out-- so I had Angela bring me a hand towel. 
In between answering questions for the EMTs, like my name, my husband's squadron (which I got wrong), how many pregnancies, what known complications, etc, I yelled out things for Angela to do.
"Angela!  Grab the spray on the fridge and clean the floor in front of the sink in case there's still some blood there.  I don't want anyone to slip.  Washcloths are under the kitchen sink.
Peach is still in her crib.  I think she was waking up.  Tater is probably still napping.
Angela, write this number down.  It's for the Relief Society president.  Please tell her that maybe now IS a good time for meals to start coming.
Angela, call the library again and have them tell Leslie to come home.  Their number is...
Angela, don't let any toddlers escape as they wheel me out.
Squdge, go play with your friends.  Miss Angela is here to take care of you.  Mommy's okay.  I'll be back soon.
Angela, there's numbers on the fridge to contact Danny.  Try them in that order.  Or you can wait and have Leslie contact him.  I told her how."
An EMT wanted to check for crowning right there in the doorway of my house while I was getting strapped on the gurney with Squdge right there, Angela and her two toddlers, and like 12 emergency type personnel.  I declined telling him that I could feel the baby kicking way up high and that maybe it was just clots or placenta.
I saw my neighbor, also named Leslie, out on the lawn when they wheeled me out on the gurney and she told me she contacted the Colonel (squadron commander) and asked what else she could do.  I told her my sister should be on her way and that she'd have a list of contacts.
I saw the van pull up just as the ambulance doors were closing.  I was overcome with fear knowing I still didn't have a power of attorney or living will.
They turned on the lights and the siren in the ambulance to get me to the hospital faster.  I was surprised how many times the ambulance had to slow down and honk at people to move.  We even went down the wrong side of the street a couple times.
Getting an IV put in while in a speeding ambulance was not pleasant.  I asked the EMT that was riding in the back with me if I could use my cell to call my sister so I wouldn't be alone for a c-section.  He told me that would be okay if there was time.
Between the EMT's report and the L&D nurse assessing my blood-soaked clothing, they determined I lost 400 cc's in about 15 - 20 minutes.
The did a speedy blood test on me to check my levels while they matched my blood.  Surprisingly my iron was at 10.0 still.  Probably from everyone around the world praying and the 2 iron pills and multi-vitamin I take each day.
Biscuit looked perfectly heatlhy and active on the monitors. 
After an hour, and no more gushing blood, they released me to go home and lay in my bed-- only getting up for toilet and shower.  I borrowed a couple of hospital gowns since I didn't have my hospital bag with me with clean clothes and I couldn't exactly leave in blood-drenched clothing (or arrive home in front of my children in said clothes).
I Skyped Danny shortly after getting home at our usual Skype-date time and filled him in on the day's drama.  We decided that we need to figure out and agree on Biscuit's Hawaiian middle name. We came to the conclusion that it will be:  Malulani-- which translates to "Under heaven's protection."


Momza said...

I sure hope you are on strict bedrest, Nikki. Not sure I understand why you'd get to leave the hospital in those conditions. I also hope you are not left alone until this baby gets here. You take it easy sister!

Nikki said...


My sister and I were both surprised that they didn't keep me. But the doctor said that there's nothing they could do at the hospital since my iron levels were stable and the baby seemed fine on the monitors.

They did tell me to come back in if it happens again.

Yes, I'm on very strict bedrest-- laying down. Leslie is worried about leaving me. So today when she got her pass for the commissary, a wife from the squadron came to sit with me and the kids.


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