Developments

So much has happened since my last post, I almost don't know where to begin.

Let's start with Wednesday, May 4th. At 4:30 in the morning, I rolled over in bed and felt a gush. My water broke after exactly eight weeks on bed rest. The boys were sleeping, but I woke Patrick and told him we needed to get to the hospital. Our neighbor came to stay with the boys and we headed to the hospital, where it was confirmed that my amniotic sac had indeed broken, but I wasn't dilated at all, and I was admitted. I was 27 weeks and 5 days pregnant and I was scared to death.

I spent several days at the hospital, on magnesium, antibiotics, and IV fluids, with minimal contractions, trying to keep baby Brigid safe inside for as long as possible. Every day, the perinatologist would come into the room with a portable ultrasound machine, check on Brigid, and say, "Looks like you're going to be pregnant for another day!" She was doing well, moving around and not showing signs of stress, other than her lack of amniotic fluid. Occasionally, I'd have some contractions. They were painful with no fluid in there to act as a cushion, and it was also very painful when Brigid would move around. My uterus felt bruised and sore.

Patrick brought the boys in to visit me a couple of times and a thoughtful friend had some photos taken of them and framed for me for Mother's Day since she knew I'd be spending it in the hospital. They brought that to my room on Saturday the 7th and it was so good to spend time with them. I'd missed them so much. Being on bed rest at home was bad enough, but being on bed rest in the hospital was lonely and difficult. I had incredible nurses, who were all so caring and kind. I wore monitors continually that would check for contractions and track Brigid's heartbeat and everything was looking really good. For four days.

Sunday morning, May 8th at around 4:00 a.m., I had a few contractions. I'd had 3 in 30 minutes. This wasn't many, but it was more than I'd been having. I decided to call my nurse to let her know because sometimes the monitor wouldn't pick them up. When Kate, the nurse, came in, she began moving the heart monitor around to find the baby's heartbeat because sometimes Brigid would move and we'd have to relocate it. It usually only took a few seconds to find it again. But this time was different. This time, it took what felt like an eternity. And as Kate is moving and pressing the monitor into my uterus to find the heart beat, I kept contracting. They were coming about every five minutes now and Kate put me on an oxygen mask so I didn't hyperventilate as I tried to breathe through each one with no pain medication. I was panicking because we couldn't find a heartbeat, panicking because I knew that I was probably going into labor right now, and panicking because Patrick was not there with me. Finally, Kate found the right spot and we heard Brigid's strong heartbeat. I grabbed her arm, sobbed, "Oh Kate!" and burst into tears. She did too. It was one of the scariest moments of my life.

I called Patrick to say that things were progressing, but Kate had put a call into the doctor, who said to try some nubain for the pain and to see if that helped the contractions to stop, so I told him that maybe I was wrong and I'd call him back if he needed to come in. It only took a few minutes for Kate and I to realize that we were never going to have time for nubain. Contractions came faster and stronger, and I texted a one-word message to Patrick: "Come" as multiple nurses found their way into my room in response to the dinosaur-like noises coming from my mouth. People were pressing the monitor into my contracting uterus and I kept pushing their hands away. I had the oxygen mask on and someone telling me to look at her and breathe while she held my hand, and then the doctor came in and wanted to check to see if I was dilating at all. I wasn't anymore. I had dilated completely and Brigid's little buns were trying to make their way into the world. The doctor decided she wanted to try to deliver her breech and started getting the room ready for that, but I insisted on the c-section that our perinatologist had said we were going to need, so off we went to the OR. I was petrified and spent the ride between the rooms praying out loud. I'm sure my nurses thought I was crazy.

At 5:30 a.m. on May 8, 2011 - Mother's Day - Brigid Eileen Tully and Fiona Jane Tully were born. Patrick arrived at the hospital just as Brigid was born, and was able to follow her right to the NICU while I recovered from surgery. She looked good, weighed 2 pounds 11 ounces, and was 15 inches long. In the recovery area, Patrick and I were able to see and hold Fiona. It was difficult to see her, though I'm sure some of my medication from the surgery made it a little easier for me. The nurses were very kind and offered to make some hand and foot prints for us to keep and to take some photos for us. One was even able to make plaster impressions of her hands and feet. They put everything into a box for us to take home and look at when we're ready. I haven't been ready yet. Jack and PJ knew that Fiona had died and that she now lives in heaven, but they had no idea that her body was still in there. We're happy to keep it that way for a good long while.

Brigid did relatively well in the NICU of our local hospital until the day I was to be discharged, when the carbon dioxide levels in her body reached dangerously high levels and she had to be airlifted to a higher level NICU in Hershey, Pa. Today, she is twelve days old and has been at Hershey for eight days. She has had some issues, mainly with her lungs, and continues to have difficulty getting rid of the CO2 in her respiration. She has required very little, if any, excess oxygen, which is unusual for preemies, but we are learning that NICU life is, as bedrest life was, one day at a time. She has some good days and some bad days, but fortunately, we've been able to go and visit her every day. She has amazing nurses and doctors and respiratory therapists taking very good care of her.

She is a beautiful little girl with a thick head of dark hair. It's hard to capture her size in a photo because it's not easy to use something universal to compare her to. It's ideal to keep her in a dark, quiet environment that is womb-like, and flash photography is not conducive to that, but we do have a few photos from her time in the original NICU from the hospital where she was born.

This post is so very long, but we are thankful for your thoughts and prayers and would be grateful if you would continue to keep our little Brigid in your prayers. This has been such a trying time. I find myself somewhat detached from her - like I'm visiting someone else's child in the hospital - and I'm sure that some of that is good when I have to leave her each day. I felt bonded to the boys after their first few days of life, though, and I don't totally feel that yet with Brigid. I can't wait to be able to hold her more and get to know her better. We have been through so much together so far, she and I, and we are praying that she would continue to show that she is living up to her name - Brigid the Strong. She is so strong for such a tiny person!