An Unexpected Arrival

Good evening, everyone.

This update is going to be rather large, so please be patient - a lot has gone on over the past week and a half.

First, and most important, is that on 27 April, 2013 at 21:52, our son, Grayson was born.  He was born three weeks, two hours, and eight minutes early.

Here is our story:

Early in the morning on 26 April, around 03:00, Mrs. J awoke with very sharp nausea and back pain, which resulted in her spending most of the morning throwing up.  At some point, during trips to the restroom, she contacted the local hospital, as no doctor's offices were available (obviously!).  They advised her that she may be in labor, and that she needed to make sure her bags were packed, as they suspected she'd be in shortly.

Fast forward to about 08:00, I woke up, and she very simply stated to me: I think I'm in labor.  So, I had her schedule an appointment as soon as the office opened, and we went.  After waiting over an hour past her appointment, the doctor called her back, and hooked her up to a fetal NST (non-stress test), to measure the baby's heartbeat, and to see if she was having any contractions; which it turns out she was.

After some time on the NST machine, we were sent down the street to the Labor and Delivery ward, where Mrs. J was admitted for observation.  Through the course of her blood draws, it was discovered that she had a severe case of philo nephritis, and her kidneys were swollen, which caused her to start having contractions.  At this point, she was 3cm dilated, and 80% effaced as of 15:30 on the 26th.  However, the doctor was not convinced she was in labor, as the contractions were sporadic, and not patterned.  So, Mrs. J was to be kept overnight for a 24 hour collection of urine for sampling, and to continue monitoring the contractions, as well as administration of antibiotics to treat her infection and kidney swelling.

The nurse staff came back in around 19:00, to recheck her cervix, which was still 3cm dilated, but she was 90% effaced.  She disappeared for around 30 minutes, only to return with the statement, "The doctor definitely thinks you're in labor."  At this point, I simply sighed, as my Google-fu and research while waiting, had led me to this conclusion about four hours earlier (granted, I'm not a doctor, but I'm also not an idiot).

At around 20:15, the doctor came in to tell us that she wouldn't be stopping the labor, but wouldn't be aiding it along, and to just wait it out, as she still wasn't 100% convinced this would turn into true labor, and thought it would stop as soon as the antibiotics kicked in.  Boy, was she wrong.

At around 22:00, the doctor returned to check Mrs. J's cervix again, which was now 4cm dilated, and about 95% effaced.  At this time, the contractions had come closer together, and it didn't appear that labor would be stopping.  An epidural was ordered, and we were told to settle in for the long haul - it looked like our boy was coming early.

I slept very little that night, I believe only around 2 hours, if that, even.  Mrs. J slept very soundly thanks to her epidural, and boy, was she going to need it.

Throughout the night, nurses were coming back to check the progression of labor, up until about 09:00, where she hit 5cm.  It was at this time the doctor gave us a set of choices:

-Break her water, and let labor accelerate with medical assistance.
-Leave the epidural in, but let the labor process continue naturally.
-Take the epidural out, go home, and wait it out there.

It didn't take much discussion for us to make a decision - we were given excellent odds by the doctor, since the baby was almost 37 weeks; she presented a 2% chance that the baby would have any issues, and a 98% chance that everything would be perfect, and he'd go home with us.  We gambled the odds, with them being presented so favorably, and had the doctor break Mrs. J's water.  Shortly after the water was broken, a drip of Oxytocin was administered to assist in dilation.

Although, in retrospect, the Oxytocin didn't do much to help, as she endured almost an entire second day of contractions and labor.

At about 21:10, Mrs. J began to feel the need to push, and the nurses came in to start the show.  I will spare the gory details, but 42 minutes after pushing began, our little angel graced our world with his presence.  He was born a very healthy 7.2lbs, and 19" long.  Shortly after he was out safely, and his cord cut, we were informed by the doctor that though she originally cancelled the order for urinalysis, she opted to have the collected samples tested anyway.  Mrs. J tested very positive for pre-eclampsia, as she had a strong protein presence in her urine.  Based on this data, the doctor stated she would've scheduled an induction for early the following week, to ensure the health and safety of the baby.  I'd heard of pre-eclampsia/toxemia before, but never looked into how dangerous it is to unborn babies.

Mrs. J was allowed to have our son skin-to-skin, for only seven hours.  During this seven hours, she was unable to get him to breastfeed successfully.  It wasn't until the latter half of those hours, that the nurse staff, who previously determined he was 100% healthy, decided to recheck his oxygen levels.  Lo-and-behold, they were extremely low, and his respiration was extremely fast, explaining why he wouldn't eat.  He was whisked away to the nursery ward, and inspected by a pediatrician.  It was the pediatrician's determination that he needed to be transferred to a hospital 30 minutes away, and placed in the care of their neonatal intensive care staff.

We were already stressed at this point, from the past two days' events.  You can only imagine what we felt when we discovered our son had to have special attention, from a crew in another city, because this hospital was unable to determine exactly what was wrong with him.

I broke down.  She broke down.  We both, for lack of a better phrase, lost our shit.  I pride myself on how stone-faced and difficult to read I am.  That day, however, I was an open book.  I can't remember another time in my life where I've cried so much.  Even when I was in the hospital myself, not long ago, I never once cried, even in the face of my own expiration.  I came to terms so easily with what happened to me... But my son, that's a different story.  So helpless, and unknowing.  But, I composed myself, and we drove on.

Fast forward to today.  Our son has been in the NICU for almost 11 days, and his progress has been amazing.  Unfortunately, the doctors, if they know what's exactly wrong with him, haven't told us.  All they've told us was that he was received in respiratory distress, but that they don't know what's perpetuated the issues he's had - be it immature lungs, underdeveloped lungs, or an infection.  For the first 7 days he was in the NICU, he was on high-flow oxygen with inhalants to help his lungs work, and mature.  His first day in, he was given Curosurf, which is a synthetic surfactant, administered to infants with immature lungs, that helps increase their natural production of surfactants, which allow their lungs to expand and contract without sticking.   After those 7 days, he was taken completely off of oxygen, and we were told that he was doing great, all that they were waiting on was the completion of his antibiotic.

Grayson was being treated proactively for infection, as the doctors caring for him had a suspicion that Mom's kidney infection may have caused pneumonia in our son, but were unable to confirm this.  Grayson's chest x-rays have shown fluid, but not enough to conclusively prove pneumonia vs. amniotic or pre-birth fluid.  His CBC labs were only slightly elevated, so they were ruled inconclusive.

Over the past 10 or 11 days, his food intake has increased exponentially every day, and his breathing has remained stable.  All things positive.  We were told yesterday that he was being prepped for discharge, and we were asked to stay at the hospital this evening to "room-in" with him, to prepare for his departure.  That is, until about 20:00, where they administered their "car seat challenge," post-feeding.  During this "challenge," Grayson's oxygen levels began to desaturate once again, and he began respirating very quickly again.

So, our elation was shattered, as he will not be coming home tomorrow, or the next day, or even this weekend.  He was placed on oxygen once again, albeit a very low dosage, through a low-flow canula, to stabilize his breathing.  The offer was made, that he can come home on low-flow oxygen, but to Mrs. J and I, this was an unacceptable determination.  Grayson has been in their care for almost two weeks, and we will not allow him to be sent home at sub-100% health.

Unfortunately, with the uncertainty behind what is actually causing his respiratory distress, we resort to the waiting game once again.  His doctor this evening suspects that if he did, in fact, have pneumonia, the inflammation in his lungs may not be gone, thus causing him to breathe abnormally.

I can say this, for sure, that the amount of unknowns in his care have been extremely troublesome.  I know that with as many factors surrounding his birth, there are a lot of variables.  However, with the cost involved in his care to this point, and the 24/7 attention, some part of me thinks that there has to be some way for them to determine exactly what is causing the issues with his breathing.

This last week has been the most trying time in either of our lives.  However, together, we've been able to stay strong.  I will also say, I believe, that if nothing else, this whole ordeal has helped to make us better parents, and to bring us closer together as a couple.

Please keep our family in your prayers, or thoughts, or whatever your beliefs lead you to do.

Thanks for reading, and we'll keep you updated.