Having a preemie: welcome baby love

As the monitors were strapped on and the induction IV was being placed in my arm, I hoped that my baby would be okay. To top off the fact that I was having a premature little one — and in my scared and anxious state — I prayed not to have a C-section, unless absolutely necessary.

When the IV for the induction went in, not only had I never been induced before, but I have never even had an IV. I was scared. Initially, I thought induction meant things would get intense right away, but actually it can be a very slow progression.

After a few hours (and some major concerns with my baby’s heart rate dropping too low) things progressed quickly.I was so close to the end I could almost touch it, but the pain was just too much. I ended up getting an epidural. Actually I had a few ‘epidurals’. First they started with the laughing gas. That didn’t help. Then they tried fentanyl. That didn’t help either. Finally, they actually had to stop the contractions and induction, do the spinal epidural, then start the induction all over again. I had to sit very still for the epidural… being 8 months along and completely exhausted from what had happened so far did not help at all.

My nurse was so amazing with me, but kept reminding me that this was an emergency situation. My baby’s heart rate was dipping too low and it was getting dangerous. If I could not have this baby naturally within the hour they would need to give me a C-section.

My husband was so supportive, but so worried as well, that I had to let him rest while he could. When he woke we were ready to go. As I laboured, I cried. I made him promise me that when she left with all the nurses he would not let her out of his sight. I think this was hard on him, he wanted me to be ok and he wanted to be there for me if I needed him, but what I really needed was to be sure my baby was okay. If I couldn’t go with my baby, then he would have to.

As she was coming they found out the reason she was in such distress was that the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck.  When I found that out I was so fearful for her and kind of glad she was able to come out when she did. Who knows what could have happened if she would have stayed in longer or grown any bigger. Maybe it would have been okay, but maybe not.

Then she was born (lots of middle stuff that’s not appropriate for this post, but maybe another time).

We welcomed our tiny perfect baby early Sunday morning weighing only 5 pounds and 11 ounces. She was basically a baby doll. The moment they placed her on my chest I expected I would feel relieved, but that was short lived.

I was able to hold her for a small moment and it was so beautiful, but it was too quick for me. My baby was still having a hard time breathing and other unknown complications. Everyone again started rushing around and quickly took her straight to the NICU.


My loving husband respected my request and followed her all the way. I was relieved that at least someone could be with her, but I did feel a bit lonely. I just had a baby, my emotions were already running high, and now I was in a room without my family.

I was surprised, scared, and excited when my husband returned just in time for me to be moved to my room. But in the half-second of searching his arms, I had to ask: where was my baby? What was she doing? When would I get to see her?

The fear was overwhelming.


Thank you all for following me in this journey! The final chapters Having a preemie: the hardest part

Having a preemie: breastfeeding

In case you missed it the story begins Having a preemie: it just happens.


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