When I was 22 I felt it was time for a baby. My ex had gotten out of the military to pursue a career with computers which at the time was a very promising opportunity. We moved back to PEI for him to go to school and I was working for the family business. Because of my diabetes I wanted to have children while I was young because I felt the older I got, the more likely complications would arise and lower my chances of having a healthy pregnancy.
Within two months I was pregnant. I didn't tell my Dr. I was planning it, I didn't think I needed to and at the time I was on multiple injections of insulin to control my blood sugars. It was a pretty easy pregnancy at first, I was only sick in the mornings before I ate anything, then once I threw up it was over for the day. One night when I was 29 weeks pregnant (I think) I started having irregular contractions. I went to the hospital with my mother, sister and ex and they figured I was in preterm labour, but it was still pretty weak. They gave me medication to mature the baby's lungs and stop the contractions. Then they sent me over to Halifax at what was then known as the Grace Hospital for Women. Then started the barrage of specialists, an OB/GYN who specialized in high risk pregnancies which included diabetic mothers, an endocrinologist, a diabetic nurse, the dietitian and a physical therapist. They did stop the labour but now were working on treating my diabetes and getting it under better control.
When you're pregnant your body requires more insulin because the pregnancy produces a resistance to your insulin. This is why a normal mom could get diabetes while pregnant but for me it meant, checking my blood sugars up to 8 times a day and increasing my insulin to about 3 times what I would normally take prior to being pregnant, I'd probably give myself 5 needles in the run of a day. So I continued tracking my blood sugars, keeping in touch with Halifax and visiting every 3 weeks for check ups with all of the above specialists. Every time I went I had ultrasounds where they checked the baby's size and condition to make sure she was thriving and she was. I wasn't doing too well with the sugars, it was very difficult to control. The baby kept measuring in the 80th percentile for size. Finally at 36 weeks I started having pains again, we went in the hospital, here on PEI, and was there the full day. I was in pain, the nurses kept saying I wasn't in real labour....sure felt like it! So finally I asked for pain meds and the labour stopped but I had progressed to 2 Cm's and 80 percent effaced so my Dr. was concerned I'd go into labour again here on the island,
and they had no anesthetist working that weekend, and sent me to Halifax to see if I could deliver over there. When I got to Halifax, they couldn't just hook me up to the juice to get the labour going, they had to check to make sure the baby's lungs were mature first. Babies of diabetics can have larger than normal babies because the sugar in the mothers blood could spill over to the baby causing them to get fat. Even though we have bigger than normal babies that look very healthy, the lung maturity usually comes later if under poor control. So I had and amniocentesis where they take the amniotic fluid and test it for a bunch of things but this was for lung maturity. It didn't hurt! Anyway later that afternoon I got the word that her lungs were mature and I could be induced on Friday.
January 19th they started me on an Oxytocin drip at around 8am then continuously monitored me. I was hooked up to the fetal monitor the whole time and I had to check my blood sugar every hour. My insulin was being delivered in an insulin/glucose mix so they had to make sure that the levels were appropriate. My mother, sister and then husband were there with me. I remember my mothers face. She never wanted me to have children because she was afraid of the complications my diabetes would have on me and it showed on every inch of her face that day. I laboured through the day, mom and my sister went shopping for a little while after I got an epidural, love that epidural man! Finally, in the evening it came time to push. I couldn't feel the contractions so the nurse had to tell me when to push. I must have pushed for about an hour and it wasn't really going anywhere so finally I started to panic because I could feel all this pressure and any way I moved really hurt. The nurse was concerned enough to go get the Dr. to check me again. The Dr. gave me the option of trying with a forceps delivery or having a c-section. I looked at my mother and sister, my sister said forceps, my mother said c-section and I was worried over a little scar so I went with the forceps. Then I had to choose who to bring with me into the OR, I reluctantly chose my ex. They bring me into the OR
and they turn up my epidural so that I feel absolutely nothing, at least that pressure was gone. They lay me down on the flat table and put my legs up in stirrups. I watch them put my legs up and not feeling a thing or having any control over them. Now the delivery room is full and I get self conscious. I have an OB/GYN plus her Resident down there, my delivery nurse to my left, the anesthesiologist above me talking to me and two more OR nurses to my right then a team from the NICU of 3 or 4 over in the corner waiting and of course my ex was there somewhere too. So finally they tell me to push, I see my nurse feeling my stomach for contractions I push and can't feel a thing and ask am I doing it right? The mood is light and every one's excited to get this birth over with. The Dr. and the resident navigate the forceps around the baby's head and the nurse keeps telling me when to push, they keep saying it's coming, it's coming to keep me motivated. Finally they head is delivered but oops, her shoulder is stuck. You know some thing's not right when everybody completely ignores the Mom and all available hand of the nurses around me and even the anesthesiologists arms are reaching over my head to push on my stomach to get the baby out. I shout, should I keep pushing and they're ignoring me. Finally, the doctors free her shoulders and the rest of her body is delivered. No noise, she's passed directly over to the NICU team who begin to work on her. I ask why she's not crying, a nurse says she has a heartbeat so she'll be fine. Finally, after what seemed like forever I hear her cry and a tear streams down my face, Thank God!
I found out later that her shoulder was stuck for 5 minutes and when born she had an APGAR score of 1......0 is dead! After I found out from mom and Tracy who were anxiously waiting in the waiting room that my delivery nurse came up to them after and told them we almost lost her.......almost! Her birth weight was 9lbs 5oz and 19 inches long, 3 weeks early! She was whisked away from me and spent the next few days in the NICU, they hurt her shoulder trying to pull her out and she would cry when she moved it but luckily it wasn't broken. She had swallowed a bunch of amniotic fluid on the way out and had a spot of pneumonia on her lung. She was very weak and had to stay in the NICU for about a week hooked up to all kinds of monitors and IV antibiotics. I tried to nurse her but she wouldn't latch so I pumped breast milk for her. She started to thrive and we were finally able to go home with her. I was left with a huge episiotomy which made it impossible to sit up straight for 5 weeks, oh it was painful!
Amy's middle name is Grace for two reasons, she was born at the Grace hospital and the good Grace of God spared her. I can't believe that was almost 9 and a half years ago, she's growing up much too fast.
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