The day after

Nothing can prepare you for the day after. The night before going to bed, although in pain nothing can prepare you for the void of waking up no longer being pregnant.

I vaguely remember going blind into the bathroom, the firemen threatening to call the police on me for not co-operating, I had to work at 9 in the morning and it was 5 am already, I needed to go to bed. I belligerently agreed to go into the ambulance where the two female paramedics worked to stabilize me to the transport to the hospital. Did you know magnesium pulls you out of a seizure? Neither did I.

After arriving at Foothills emergency they waited for my blood pressure to go down (it was at 240/160) before doing an emergency c-section. I remember seeing my husband with his head in his hands and reaching out for him telling him it would be ok, that we were at the hospital and that we were at the best place we could be. I had no idea the doctors had briefed my husband of all the risks involved. They told him not to be alarmed if they took our baby out and he wasnt breathing that its normal and they would resuscitate him. I had no idea the emotions he was going through watching all this happen.

When Slade was born October 16, 2017 at 7:11 am at 1555g he came out kicking and screaming, a dramatic entry for a kid determined to make it in the world.

I spent 3 days in ICU recovering. I had 7 IVs, a morphine drip, a catheter bag, oxycodin and tylenol every 2 to 4 hours not to mention the visits from every specialist at Foothills. I had to get an ECG, MRI and what felt like hundreds of different blood and urine tests, sprinkle in getting your blood pressure every 4 hours and you just feel like a scientific experiment.

The only thing I could do to feel like a mother to my baby was to breast pump. What an awful misguided idea when you are high on painkillers. I wanted so badly to provide for my son that I had the breast pump to the highest level and ended up with 3ml. I felt pretty awesome but I really damaged my nipples pumping them raw like that. I couldn’t tell though the painkillers helped.

The best part of the experience was the narcotics. I didn’t have to think I didn’t have to feel because if I let the reality of what just happened set in I don’t think I would be able to recover. My worst nightmare just happened. Now it’s up to me to heal and recover because what I do know I will never be the same and I would never recover.

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