After I was hospitalized for preeclampsia, and after they were able to get me stabilized, they sent the neonatologist on duty to come talk to us. He handed my husband and me sheets of information about the risks of prematurity, about the statistics for various gestational ages, about the odds of various long term disabilities. I don’t really remember what he said, to be honest, I was either still on magnesium or freshly off of it, so I was very fuzzy.
Weirdly, I had looked up premature birth statistics just a few weeks earlier. My mom thought I was nuts, but it came in handy. I’d decided that if I ended up having a preemie, I was in a pretty good place, gestationally speaking, and things would be okay, even if somewhat rough. Still, though, as I read over the sheets, I decided that I really wanted to make it to 32 weeks. That seemed good. (Spoiler: it didn’t happen that way.)
On the day that they decided I needed to give birth, the neonatologist returned. This time, he brought consent forms for things like blood transfusions, medical procedures, etc. I had to sign paperwork acknowledging the risks of formula for a preemie. I was on magnesium again, though, so I wasn’t with it enough to be too anxious about all that stuff.
This being my first pregnancy and me being so early, they couldn’t safely induce. They had no idea if it would work or not. So they scheduled a c-section for that evening.
The anesthesiologist gave me a rather powerful drug cocktail, so by the time the surgery was finished, I was pretty much out. I remember hearing the baby cry a tiny cry and hearing the time of birth announced, but have no memory of getting back to my room. I drifted in and out of sleep for the rest of the evening and night.
Obviously, then, I didn’t get to visit my baby that night. My husband did, though. He took photos of her. She was a weird looking thing. She had jaundice but you couldn’t tell because her skin was so red. No subcutaneous fat, either.
She was born on a Sunday. I was on magnesium for 24 hours, so on Monday I was still hooked up, and when I finally came off of it, was still far too out of it to make the trek to the NICU. It was Tuesday night before I finally made it.
Adventures At Home 