Labor and Delivery

Where, oh where, do I begin?  I guess the logical answer is that we should have started this blog four months ago when we first heard the devastating news that our son was going to be born with Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia (CDH).  Needless to say, at the time, we weren't thinking logically.  It has taken four long months to process the situation and feel comfortable enough to write about it. 

Here we go...at 29 weeks, exactly one week after my first baby shower in which I was telling everyone, "Pregnancy has gone so smoothly!  I feel wonderful," I woke up in the middle of the night to a gush of blood (I guess I had spoken too soon)!  In a panic, Bryan and I scrambled to get changed, grabbed a few towels, and put George Michael (our Wheaten Terrier) in his crate.  We clearly weren't prepared, and I certainly didn't have my "hospital bag" packed...the one I had read so much about in my baby books.  After a quick consideration of which hospital to drive to, we jumped in the car and took off for the emergency room.  Bryan somehow navigated through the city and surprisingly only ran one red light!  After arriving at the hospital and being admitted, it was determined that I was contracting (who knew!) and going into preterm labor.  They began to give me Magnesium Sulfate to stop the contractions.  That was successful in slowing the contractions for the time being, but also had terrible side effects.  After the doctors controlled my contractions and bleeding, they gave me a series of steroid shots to accelerate the baby's lung development.  At that point, Bryan and I were terrified that we were going to have a premature baby- little did we know that we were going to have a premature baby with additional complications.

In the midst of trying to figure out why I was bleeding, the ultrasound techs identified an anatomical abnormality in our baby.  After hours and hours of collaboration with specialists, it was determined that our baby had Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia (CDH).  I'll never forget looking into the doctor's teary eyes as she spoke the words, "Your baby's heart is shifted and his liver looks to be in his chest.  He has right-sided Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia."  I immediately asked, "Does this mean he won't make it?" and she replied, "He will most likely not survive."  As I lay sobbing on the hospital bed, I felt my world come crumbling down around me. What did this mean?  How can I fix this?  What's the plan?  I need a plan!

So, we came up with a plan.  My doctor explained that the hospital where I was planning to deliver was not equipped to handle a baby with CDH and gave us the option of delivering at Johns Hopkins or the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia (CHOP).  In our hasty research, Bryan and I realized that we were choosing from the best of the best.  Both hospitals are world-renowned, and I don't think we could have gone wrong with either.  We chose CHOP because of the volume of CDH babies that they treat as well as its location.  The Philadelphia area is where the majority of our family and friends live, so in terms of moral support, it made the most sense.  After my doctor contacted CHOP and set up our initial consultation appointment, I was discharged with strict orders to stay on bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy.


Upon discharge, the nurses helped me walk to Bryan's car, and I sat in the back with my legs up for the entire trip back to my parents' house in West Chester.  I planned to stay there for the next ten weeks to be close to CHOP, but Baby Reid had different plans.  That night, the contractions began  again, and I just had a feeling that the baby wanted out!  I tried to wait as long as possible, thinking, "maybe the contractions will just stop on their own, this can't be the real thing," but I could not fall asleep.  The feeling became more and more intense, so I woke Bryan, and he started to time the contractions on his recently downloaded contraction app (isn't modern technology great?).  The contractions were coming every 8-10 minutes, and I called my doctor in Baltimore to ask what I should do.  After explaining the situation, she sternly replied, "Meredith- you need to go immediately to the nearest hospital."  I calmly woke my parents to tell them that we were heading into the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania (HUP) and in their semi-awake state, they looked completely terrified for us.

For the second time in a week, Bryan and I jumped into the car in the middle of the night to drive to the hospital without a "hospital bag."  You would think we would have learned after the first time!  Bryan may have gone through two red lights this time before safely dropping me at the emergency entrance of HUP.  I waddled into the emergency room, armed with my stack of medical records, not sure how this was all going to play out.  I explained my situation, made sure they were aware of the baby's diagnosis of CDH, and tried to stay as calm as possible. For the next five hours, they attempted to stop my labor in a triage room, before finally admitting me to labor and delivery and moving me to a delivery room.  From that point, everything happened very quickly.  

From what I remember, I was dilated 2 cms, and the contractions were getting stronger.  The high-risk doctors came in to explain that if the baby or I were in danger, they would have to deliver.  I was encouraged to get an epidural, knowing that I would have to have a c-section because the baby was breech.  When the anesthesiologist showed up to place the epidural, Bryan disappeared into the bathroom after seeing the size of the needle.  About 15 minutes after the epidural, the high risk doctors came back to talk.  Then the baby's heart rate began to drop.  The doctor quickly checked me and found out that I was now 7 cms.  At this point, the hospital staff kicked into emergency mode, and within a matter of minutes, an oxygen mask was strapped to my face, Bryan was thrown scrubs and quickly kissed me as I was being wheeled out of the labor and delivery room and into the operating room.  Everything happened so fast....the epidural hadn't kicked in, so the doctor whispered in my ear, "Everything's alright.  You are going to go off to dreamland."  And just like that, I went off to "dreamland."  I have no recollection of them delivering our baby, hand bag ventilating him, or transporting him through the basement of the hospital to CHOP.

Once I woke up, I was back in the labor and delivery room.  Bryan explained to me that he stood waiting in his scrubs, but never made it into the operating room with me because they had to intubate me.  Reid William Unangst came out fighting for his life at 10:59 AM on August 2, 2011 weighing in at 3 lbs. 3 oz (10 weeks before his expected due date).  Neither of us were able to immediately see our baby boy or hear his first cry because the team of medical professionals were tirelessly working to stabilize our little guy.  What a different labor and delivery experience from the ones I had heard about from my friends and seen on A Baby Story!

I would like to say that everything calmed down after this terrifying experience, but this was just the beginning of a very long journey....   






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