Tuesday, April 7, 2015
Aubrey's Birth Story - Part Two
The day after Aubrey was born, a Monday, I was able to go home from the hospital. The next morning I was exhausted from multiple nights of little sleep, so I decided to take a nap. Chance and his mom were watching Hudson in the other room, while I took Aubrey into our bedroom to feed her and lay her down while I slept. The last thing I remember was feeding Aubrey in our bedroom. My memory begins again with a swarm of paramedics hovering around me. I had had a seizure.
Apparently, Chance and his mom heard a loud thud from the other room. They assumed a picture had fallen, but when Chance went into the bedroom he saw me on the floor seizing. Aubrey was on the floor too, crying.
The paramedics took my blood pressure and checked my blood sugar while Chance explained to them what he saw take place. I couldn't believe that I had just had a seizure. My labor and delivery went so well, and I felt that I was recovering rather quickly. Everything had seemed so normal, until now. After the paramedics left I called my mom (a nurse) who insisted that I call my OBGYN doctor. The OBGYN office told me to go straight back to labor and delivery, where I would be readmitted as a patient.
It was all quite overwhelming. I don't really remember walking down to the car with Aubrey in tow. I do remember how distraught Chance was, which was difficult to see.
After checking in at Baylor and being brought to hospital room, I began to break down. Why did this happen? Was I okay? Was Aubrey okay?! Seeing the fear that Chance was experiencing made me realize the gravity of the situation.
Later, Chance took Aubrey to the pediatrician where she was assessed. We feared that I had dropped her when I began to seize, maybe hitting her head upon landing. She was in good condition, though, and the doctor saw no reason for concern. We were thankful.
The doctors ordered all sorts of tests to be done: a CT scan, a MRI, an EKG, an EEG, and lots of bloodwork. It was a very draining day, both physically and emotionally. The nurse who cared for me that day was a Christian, and at one point when I sank into tears before my MRI she asked to pray for me; it was just what I needed.
Later, I saw a neurologist and my OBGYN. Both doctors explained that a seizure can happen by many different causes: lack of sleep, high blood pressure, hormonal changes, etc. They reasoned that a combination of factors could have attributed to my seizure. They said that it was likely that it wouldn't happen again, if my tests showed that there were no underlying issues.
I stayed overnight in the hospital. The next day I had ample time to contemplate the previous day's events. As I sat alone in my quiet hospital room, I reflected on the brevity of life, the importance of knowing Jesus, and uncontrollable nature of certain aspects of our lives. I realized from this experience that despite being in great health, traumatic events can and do occur without warning. God reminded me that He is sovereign over my days. And He reminded me of His great love for me in Jesus Christ, my Savior.
Although all of my tests had come back normal, the most difficult news came from my OBGYN. She informed me that because of the seizure it was likely that I wouldn't be allowed to drive for up to six months. Ouch. That was a hard pill to swallow. I would have to follow up with a neurologist to confirm that, but six months suddenly felt like an eternity. However, I knew that it could be A LOT worse.
At around 4pm, I was finally allowed to go home. Chance, Hudson, Shayla, and Aubrey came up to the hospital to take me home. We walked back to Swiss Towers in the bright afternoon sunshine.
It has taken us these past two weeks to feel comfortable again. We have begun to experience a new "normal" (as much as possible with a newborn!) - running errands together, texting frequently when I am home alone, etc.
God is definitely teaching me humility as I learn to rely on others for practical help. And I am learning to trust that despite whatever trials I face, God is faithful.