Lindy Davidson

For “go time,” I was rather still.  Dr. Al-Malt was returning that day, Saturday, June 1st, from his conference. He had ordered me to receive another round of steroids to give the baby’s lungs an extra boost although I had already had one round at 24 weeks.  Two shots had to be given 24 hours apart, and since my water had already broken, I was laid flat in bed and forbidden to move.  The baby and I were also put on the monitor 24 hours a day.  I was not contracting, so everyone was fine with me just lying there until the steroids could do their work.  It was at this point that I began to realize how not fun a hospital can be.  My diabetic diet, which I hated, had been down-graded to a liquid diabetic diet.  I don’t think there’s a word for the feeling I had about that, but I think the term “beef broth” pretty much sums it up.  I got to experience the bed pan for the first time, and I got a sponge bath as well.  Enter: humiliation.

It was during this time that I realized I was going to be birthing a baby, very soon.  I had not had the opportunity to take birthing classes, seeing how I was already in the hospital at 24 weeks.  A few weeks earlier, I had watched a video on C-Sections.  After that video I asked if there was a third option.  That did not look like fun.  Will had been breach my entire pregnancy until Wednesday night of the prior week.  The little sweetheart had turned around and put his head in the right spot.  I nearly came off the table when I saw on the sonogram that his head was down.  He must have seen that C-section video too.

I had been doing all kinds of tricks to try to get him to put his head down.  One involved me in the strangest position.  I was face down, but on my knees.  My arms were flat beside me and basically, I was a big pregnant woman with her butt stuck up in the air.  The only place I had to do this was my hospital bed, so if someone walked in the room while I was holding this position (5 min. at a time), it made for an awkward situation.  This, or another one of our tricks using a flash light or music, must have worked.  I was going to have a vaginal delivery, which everyone seemed to think was best for the baby and which seemed to be better than what I saw on that C-section video.

The actual birthing process was still a mystery to me.  I knew I was going to need some help.  As soon as my water broke, my mom left Kentucky to be with me.  She made it in plenty of time.  Adam had not left the hospital since the moment he teleported himself there after hearing my water had broken.  He decided to go home on Sunday afternoon at about 5 pm to get a shower and some sleep.  At 8:30 or so that night, the nurse came in and said, “Ok, we’re gonna have a baby tonight.”  Seven months earlier, when I found out I was pregnant, this was not at all how I pictured delivery.  I called Adam and told him to get back to the hospital.  Of course, he did.  So that night, they wheeled me over to labor and delivery where I was allowed two glorious things, an opportunity to get out of bed and go to the bathroom, and a shower.  After two days of lying around doing nothing, we were finally getting somewhere.  It felt like the moment of truth.

The last week of May, Dr. Al-Malt went to a conference.  He did not have a partner in his practice, so another perinatologist covered for him while he was gone.  On Tuesday of that week, Dr. Rickets assisted Dr. Bayuth in an amnio infusion of 1200 ccs, and then on Thursday I needed another so they infused 1600 ccs, that’s more than a liter and a half of fluid.  My first infusion had been 48 ccs, and the amount had gradually increased with the size of the baby.  I was needing infusions more and more frequently, so they were infusing more and more fluid to try to stretch them out as long as possible.  It hurt to have that much fluid infused.  Of course, it’s no picnic having a needle stuck in your belly, but there aren’t that many nerve endings in the belly, so it’s not as bad as you might imagine.  However, you do have a lot of muscles in your belly. And when fluid is infused to the tune of 1600 ccs, the belly stretches like a balloon being blown up, and when the belly stretches, the needle begins to pull against the muscles, and that, my friends, is painful.  Of course, I began to contract, so they would stick me in the shoulder and shoot me up with terbutaline.

I didn’t do much the rest of that day, but the next I was feeling better and entertaining visitors again.  My visitors on Friday, May 31 were Hill & Susan and James & Stacy.  They were friends from church and seminary who, like us, were just beginning to have kids.  I remember feeling fairly good during their visit.  They brought KFC, which was approved by the dietician.  (Insert eye roll.)  That night was like every other.  I was hooked up to the monitor for an hour, Adam read to Will and we prayed, and then I went to sleep.

My journal entry for May 31 said this:

“The past three days have been pretty rough…  I am so full and very tired from all of these procedures.  I think the baby will most likely be born next week around Wednesday or so.  We’ve seen his chest rising and falling on the sonogram, which is a good sign of lung development.  We’ve also seen him stick out his tongue and lap at the fluid.  He’s just like a little puppy!  Yesterday he kicked at the needle and was very excited over the fluid coming in all around him.  I love him so much already, and he’s a likable little guy too.  I hope and pray that he’s ready to be born when we’re ready.  I’m exhausted and feel like I’m about finished because my body can’t sustain these every-other-day infusions, especially at nearly 2 liters a time.  I will be happy to see Dr. Al-Malt when he returns.  “Lord, sustain us for as long as we need to wait.  Protect us from infection and problems.  You deserve all our praise.  Thank you for taking us to this point.  I love you, Lord, and I promise to raise my child to love you also.”

After this I wrote:

I Peter 4:13 “Rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed.”

And then this prayer:

“Lord, I see that in some ways I am participating in your sufferings.  It is because I worship you and love you that I am willing to go through this for my child.  Although others suggested I not continue this pregnancy, I couldn’t even consider it because of you and what I know of you.  Lord, show yourself strong and powerful in all of this.  Help us to keep pressing on toward you and your glory.  Help others to see you and the light that you are in this world.  Heal Will, Lord, and help me to be the mom I need to be.”

The next morning I was up early, about 5:45.  Apparently, someone had poured water in my bed.  I went to the bathroom and for the first time, rang the emergency call button by the toilet.  The nurse came on the intercom and I said, “I think my water broke.”  She was there in about 2 seconds.  The amnio infusions were over.  I had reached 31 weeks, and it was go time.