Wednesday, February 03, 2010

It's not like I thought

I keep not writing about something. Lots of somethings. I want people to like me. I want to be normal. I don't want to be the weird lady who writes scary things and freaks you all out.

But I am scary. Not normal.

A little over a year and half ago Julius was born. And it was not a good delivery. It was horrifying and terrifying and there is not one good memory I have of it. Nothing clear anyway.

My husband broke down crying and told me something about that delivery a while ago. The docs and nurses were there checking my IV and my epidural drugs, because I was screaming and it wasn't normal contractions, but there was no blood, nothing out of the ordinary. No one knew what was happening.

He said that I was screaming and begging to die. Then my head fell back silent.

And then I did.


No heart rate, no BP, no nothing, on me, and the baby too. Zip.

I thought I passed out, but when I looked on the hospital records, turns out, I was dead.

He says people starting pumping on my chest, and I have a vague sense of noise and chaos. I also remember feeling the cold scalpel across my skin. I thought I said, "May I have some painkiller?" Then nothing but blackness. It was probably a dream. The records say I was unresponsive, so I guess that means not talking.

I felt myself being moved, shaken, talked too. I know they got me breathing and said I had a placental abruption. I lost huge amounts of blood, almost all the blood in my body. They had no clue I had abrupted until they did the crash section.

The baby was born dead. They suctioned him and gave him oxygen and he was alive. Just like that. Dead. Alive. Like throwing a switch.

The OR looked like a crime scene afterwards, the senior resident looked like he had been punched, and my OB actually cried and begged me never to get pregnant again.

The placental pathology report? I stopped the heparin at 34 weeks, and delivered at 38. In that 4 weeks, my formerly "beautiful" placenta became half dead, shrunken, calcified, covered in clots and barely attached to my uterus. The pathologist said it was likely to have abrupted at any time. Or just stopped working completely. Maybe throwing a clot and killing me and Julius.

There is no white light by the way. In case you were wondering. It's not like in the movies. Since I've been dead and all I get to say that.

He's fine now. I'm fine. We're just fine.

But I'm really not. And I have no idea where to go from here.

Not a fucking clue.