My Daughter's Arrival in the World: Memoirs of a New Mother

my few-hour-old daughter

Becoming a mother can be one of the most beautiful and rewarding thing that can happen to a woman. It was...it still is, to me.

On the last quarter of 2016, my partner and I found out that we will be having a baby. To be honest, it was 50% gratefulness because of being blessed with a child and 50% worry because of a lot of things that were still needed to be done before having a baby. My partner and I still had many plans to make into reality. But like they say, there can never be a perfect time to have a baby.

After we learned about the pregnancy, I did my best to take care of myself and my unborn child. I was too careful, especially in the first few months, with my food intake and activities. My being careful was mostly influenced by my plan to deliver my baby normally. I had a target normal size for the baby only so that a normal labor and procedure would be easier and faster to attain.

Life however has it's own way of playing tricks on us...

On my 36th week of pregnancy last year, I woke up in an early morning at around 4:30 am due to a trickle of fluid on my thigh. I jolted awake because I thought my water broke. I immediately went to the restroom and that's when I saw that it was not just water; it was blood. Like crimson blood. I got engulfed with fear on that moment. My baby was not yet due for the next 2 weeks atleast. And blood is definitely a bad sign. I called my partner at that moment to tell him of the situation while I checked my belly for any sign of movement from my daughter. When I was not able to detect a definite movement, I put on some music and hoped that maybe she'll wake up. But then we needed to get to the hospital asap. 30 to 45 minutes later, my partner arrived home and we drove directly to the clinic. It was around 6:30 am when we arrived at our doctor's clinic. She was not there yet as she was having rounds at the hospital but we were accommodated due to an emergency. By the time we arrived at the clinic, the sanitary napkin I wore before I left home was already soaking and full of blood.

When our doctor arrived and checked me up, she said that she might either put me on bed rest until maybe next week so that our daughter will reach the right week or she might have to put me on an emergency section if necessary. This being said, she then asked her assistant to get my blood pressure which read, unsurprisingly 220 over 200. Who wouldn't get a high bp when your doctor has just said you might be undergo a c-section at an earlier stage right?

With that high bp, she ordered us to go straight to the hospital from the clinic. We arrived there sometime 7:15 am. I went alone inside the emergency while my partner parked outside. I was not in pain to be honest and I even patiently waited in line at the emergency section (there was one person in front of me complaining about an allergy). When the nurses saw however the recommendation from my doctor, that was when they went into a haste and had me changed into a lab gown and wheeled me into the operating room. Wait, what? The initial plan to put me in bed rest was changed and they said they needed to perform an emergency c-section to me because I was having the contractions. Not that I even felt it.

It all happened too fast. I never even had a chance to say later to my partner; the way they do it in movies.lol Before I knew it, I was already prepped in the operating room with the nurses injecting me with left and right with medicines I kept on asking the names just to divert my attention. One time there was a large dose of a medicine they injected me that brought me a surge of heat I thought I was gonna die. It was when I told them how hot I felt that they realized that they opened too wide, thus the fast surge of the large volume of medicine. When they asked me to do a fetal position so they can inject the anesthesia on my spine, I felt tears running down my cheeks. Why? First because it was too hard to do a fetal position when you have that big bump in your tummy and second, the tears were a result of getting injected thrice and four times because the anesthesia wouldn't push thru. I almost lost count as to how many attempts they did for the anesthesia alone.

I lost consciousness for a few minutes shortly after they started with the operation. Halfway thru the operation however I woke up with the feeling of not being able to breathe. Like literally! I asked the anesthesiologist if they can elevate my head because I can't breathe. They did but I was still feeling out of breathe. My two hands strapped on the operating table did not help at all too. Looking back, it was the closest thing to dying that I felt. The anesthesiologist assured me that it will be just a few more minutes. We just need to wait for my daughter to be taken out and then they can dose me to sleep. After what felt like years (although it was only a few minutes), I heard the shrill cry of my daughter and my doctor saying something like she was a beauty before I lost consciousness again.

I woke up chilling inside the recovery room. I had no idea what time it was nor where were my daughter and my partner were. The nurse later brought me my daughter and she let me held her. It was not like what happens in the movie. I held her but I did not feel the swell of emotions I was expecting to experience. Probably because I was too busy checking her fingers and her nose and ears.

After a few more hours, they wheeled me into the maternity room and transferred me to the bed. My partner later arrived in the room and told me how it all happened so fast and that he had no idea I was gonna have a c-section already. He thought it was just a bed rest as initially instructed. Well, makes two of us right?

My family and some close friends arrived after a while. They scolded me why I did not wake them up when we left for the hospital in the morning. They were so shocked to find a photo of our daughter in social media (courtesy of my partner of course) when a few hours before we slept, we were only planning to make some avocado shakes. They said they woke up to one of our housemates shouting in the house that I already gave birth.

finally out

Our daughter came out at 8:24 am weighing 2.41 Kg (5.3lbs), only a few hours since I felt that trickle of blood. She was left to stay at the nursery because at that time, my blodd pressure was still so high that I was not allowed to hold her yet or to have any stress. On my second day at the hospital, my partner wheeled in a wheel chair for me and told me I needed to go down at the nursery with him because he was not allowed to hold her daughter without the mother. I initially refused and just laughed at him but I later took pity and went with him.

This photo was taken the moment my daughter was finally taken to me at the recovery room. That was after being kept at the nursery for almost 3 days. It was only on the third day that my bp finally stabilized. We went home with our daughter after 4 days at the hospital.

Looking back, it had been the most traumatic yet beautiful 4 days of my life. They were not what I expected and planned to happen on giving birth to my daughter but the only thing that mattered was my daughter and I were both safe. Our doctor shared the same sentiment with us later on (after a week) when we went to have a check up with her. She explained that what happened was a placental abruption wherein the placenta was already dettaching itself from the uterus. If left untreated, the baby and the mother will be put in danger. She said that had we waited a while and arrived 2 or 3 hours late than when we arrived, there was a chance that our baby may not have survived since the dettaching of the placenta will deprive the baby of oxygen and nutrients. We held our breath as we listened to her at the time. We can't imagine the horror of not being able to have our daughter alive in our arms.

What we went through may not have been easy but my partner and I were just grateful for surviving that week and for having a healthy daughter. Despite her being on her 36th week only, she was very much normal and unlike the initial anticipation that she might be put in an incubator, she was not put in there. She even passed as a 37-week-infant. All in all, we were and still are very grateful for having our daughter. She is now more than a year old and still very healthy.

I thank GOD each day for giving her to us.

Thank you for dropping by.

All the best! {always}
~filnette 🍀