The End of my FairyTale: My Trip Down the Rabbit Hole

     Allison's birth was all going according to my "ideal" birth plan.  Yes, I had been induced, but I had been able to walk around and labor on the birthing ball.  With indian flute music playing in the background, I had birthed my baby naturally, using aromatherapy and relaxation tapes to manage the pain.  I "breathed" Allison down my birth canal and she came out without a single push from me--almost before the doctore got in the room. 
     Yes, it was perfect.  Almost too perfect.  Something was going to go wrong.  And then, it did. 

     Instead of placing my perfect new baby on my chest for me to cuddle and nurse immediately, she was wisked away to a corner of the room, in respiratory distress. She was diagnosed SGA and taken up to the NICU for observation that would "probably last a few hours."  I was able to hold her long enough for a quick picture and then she was taken up to the NICU, followed by my husband, still in shock from the delivery.  I could go up to see her once  I was able to get out of bed and had recovered.  I walked to my baby within the hour-- a first few the NICU staff, who couldn't believe I was up and walking so soon.

    See was on a nasal canula because she couldn't keep her oxygen levels up and had an  IV in her tiny hand because she couldn't keep her glucose levels up.  She had heel pricks every 3 hours to check her glucose levels and her billy count and hermaticrit numbers were check frequently; she was jaundice and had high hermatacrit levels, which made obtaining her blood extremely difficult.  It was not uncommon over those first four days for the nurses to have to try several times to find a vein that would give them enough blood.  Once they tried four different spots and still could not get enough.  My little trouper held tough and barely cried.  The third day, her IV went bad.  They tried four times to put in a new IV with no luck.  Finally, they inserted an NG tube (she was not eating enough on her own)--if her glucose levels stayed up with the nutrition, than she could keep the IV out.
    The first few days she would nurse for up to 5 minutes at a time, but not super great.  Every day she got worse and worse, until she stopped eating altogether.  She had been on a billy light and I was only allowed to try to nurse her for 30 minutes every 3 hours--since she no longer had the IV, if she didn't nurse well enough, the rest would have to be put down her tube.

      By day seven, she was barely waking up. She didn't even cry during the nurses vein attempts to draw blood.  Two older nurses convinced me that Allison must be younger than we thought.  She didn't act like a 37 weeker.  Perhaps she was not SGA, but infact only 34 or 35 weeks gestationally instead of the 37 we thought.  If I would just leave her alone for 12-24 hour--up to 42 hours, and let her just lie in bed and be gavage fed, that might give her the strength she needed to get over this hump.  Of course this went against every mothering instinct in my body, but I agreed to let her get as much rest as possible, although I demanded that we had time for kangaroo care at least 2 hours a day during this time.
   
    That morning, the doctor mentioned that he thought he heard a murmur while listenening to Allsion's heart, but he wasn't sure.  He was sure it was nothing, but we were there anyway, so he ordered an echo, "just to be safe."  I did not give it a second thought.  After all, those tests never came back abnormal, not for me, not for anyone I knew...