As I had hoped to have a nice, complication-free delivery, I was planning on doing this post LONG before now. I can't believe that Benson is 3 weeks old today. As it is, I honestly don't know if I'd have time to write it all up. I have been slowly writing in a word document the events leading up to and including his delivery. I think I will just copy it in here and add some pictures. My apologies, but at least you get a nice sneak peak into my journal...
Saturday November 27th, 2010
Wow - what a crazy couple of days it has been. I’ve been very anxious to have this baby and not have the aches and pains and size and discomfort of pregnancy anymore, but I had NO idea what I would be going through in order for that to happen.
It seems as though the month of November was designed to torture me. Jarett has been working on CPLED and franticly working on each assignment to be sure that he’s doing everything that he can to pass his Bar Course. He’s been working for Drew Galbraith on a file that has been monopolizing much of his time and still wanting to get all the hours in that he can for my Dad and Darren (who are actually paying him for his work). Jarett has been working until 10pm every night to make sure that he covers his territory enough that no one is going to be disappointed. As CPLED started, he began to work late a lot to ensure that his projects were done early in the week so that if I was to go into labour, he’d still be able to get the assignment in on time. He has been working so hard and has been so stressed out through this whole thing that I was glad when I heard that the week that I was due, he would be in class. What I didn’t realize is that this meant he might not make it to the delivery. He HAD to be in class… I really wasn’t sure how to go into labour when I knew he could be there. It really was going to be hard.
As November progressed, I started to get some series of contractions. I would have regular contractions 2-5 minutes apart, that just never seemed to do anything and would eventually just go away. This seemed to happen religiously every Sunday (no pun intended). Jarett was like a drill sergeant walking me up and down the hallways at church. There was no better day that I could deliver the baby because Jarett was working so much - and he didn’t work on Sundays. Unfortunately, it always died out. 
On Tuesday morning I had received a phone call from my mom asking if I was having any contractions. She was wanting to go to Lethbridge because my Granny had fallen down and broken her hip in 2 places. She needed surgery and was in hospital. (She now has had the surgery and is recovering, but will still be in the hospital for a few weeks, at least). Aunty Beryl was in Maryland visiting Alanna and my Grampa’s Alzheimers is at a stage that they can’t have him on his own. So naturally, with this going on, my mom wanted to be there. She was worried about me and this baby though… she didn’t want to leave when I was in labour. I told her that I wasn’t having any contractions, so she should just go… but, knowing my mom, she couldn’t make a decision right then. She was baking for my Dad’s open house and wanted to get that done, so she finally decided to finish all that up and then go down on Wednesday after we heard what my Doctor had to say. Cahoons were all leaving town Thursday morning for the `Black Friday` sales the morning after Thanksgiving, so if my mom left, I wouldn’t have any support in town like I had planned. Wednesday would be the best day, because Cahoons would still be around if anything happened. So that was the plan.
Wednesday was a normal day. I was probably pretty cranky with the whole pregnancy thing, but that was pretty typical. I dropped the kids off at my moms in the morning and headed for my Obstetricians office (Dr. Edwards) for my check-up, PRAYING that it would be my last. The resident saw me (for the first time ever) and we talked about fast labours, big babies and VBAC’s (Vaginal Birth After Caesarean). I was at 2 to 3 cm dilated with just a lip of cervix left. She said, “You know what? Dr Edwards and I are both on all day tomorrow. Come in and say that you’re cramping, and you may be leaking some fluid. We’ll come and “check” and break your water and induce you that way. I was BEYOND excited. They stripped my membranes to try to get me to go in on my own, but either way, I was having that baby soon! I went home and told my mom. She said she’d just keep the kids at her house in case I had to go in - and then she’d just keep them there until I was out of the hospital. She decided to delay her trip to Lethbridge until I was out of the hospital and all was well. I talked to Jarett - and it worked out really well for him too because he didn’t have class after noon on Thursday. He had an exam on Friday to prepare for, but the baby would only take a couple hours and then he’d just have to take off shortly after. That’s fine - not ideal, but fine. He talked to his teacher Wednesday afternoon and just said what might be happening. His teacher said, “Oh, you don’t want to miss a minute of that, don’t worry about it, you can come in Thursday evening and I’ll catch you up if you have to miss some of class”. All was set up and all was going to be perfect!November 28th, 2010 (continuing from above)
Wednesday afternoon I was still at my moms and trying to figure out anything that I needed to get ready or to bring. I was no longer packing for just me and the baby, but for all the kids for their stay at my moms. She was also in a little panic trying to get everything together for the open house that night. I helped my mom out and then (while she was getting herself ready) I packed up the tarts and bundt cake, veggie platter and refills. As I started this, I noticed some really “pressure-ful” contractions starting up. They weren’t too regular and they varied in intensity, but there was definitely more pressure than there had been before. These eased off for a little while, but never completely. I picked up Kaia and swung around my Dad’s office and see how the open house was going etc. Kaia LOVED that she got to go and be grown up! She was so good. I told quite a few people about my Dr’s visit and that I’ve been contracting, but even if those don’t work out this time, I’ll be going in to be induced the following day. At around 2am, I could no longer stay asleep. The pain was picking up and so was the time between contractions. It was around every five minutes or so. Just after four, I woke Jarett up and we decided to head out to the hospital.
November 29th, 2010 (continuing from above)I hope that I don’t summarize too much from this point on, it’s hard to keep the facts straight after a few days when so much has happened. I’m trying to write down names and little details so that I can remember all those who have been so helpful along with becoming my heroes. So many facts have been added to and changed, that it’s hard to remember what exactly I found out when, but I will try to keep it as straight in my head as possible.
When we arrived at the hospital Lia took us to the triage to assess whether I was really in labour. I had progressed from a 2-3 to a 5 and was contracting every 5-8 minutes. She admitted me to the hospital and then, as she was explaining what has been happening to the labour/delivery nurse what had happened so far, she said there’s been a few brief decelerations of the heart rate that seemed to be corresponding with the contractions. They hooked me up to the monitors to make sure to keep track of the heart rate and the contractions and then did all the ridiculous questioning etc. that they always do and let things start. One of the questions was if I had wanted to get an epidural. I said that I would, but I was had built myself up to not expect it because of my last delivery. They said that was good, because it would be at LEAST a few hours before I’d be able to get one. There were already a few in line ahead of me and a couple C-Sections that were going on. So, I was going to be doing this naturally - yikes! After they began the monitoring etc., the contractions died off almost immediately. They were every 10-12 minutes for a while and not nearly as intense. The residents came in and checked as well and decided to break my water to hurry the labouring up. They knew that my family has a history of really fast labours (Alanna had Carson in 18 miuntes, my mom had me in 45 minutes, I had Jaymeson in 3 hours) and that the baby usually came within minutes of the water breaking. They watched - and watched, and nothing happened. I had a TON of water, but the cervix just wouldn’t change and his heart rate kept dropping during contractions. Dr. Edwards came on shift by then and she decided to put me on just a drop of oxytocin to get things going. I suddenly remembered a couple of conversations I had had about this kind of thing and asked if it could wait until I had an epidural. They said that was fine, but it took the anesthesiologist a long time to come. Labour was getting intense, but it still was not progressing. FINALLY the anesthesiologist came and walked me through all the pros and cons of an epidural. He gave one to me (I didn‘t remember that it hurt so much just to get one) and said that it would take effect in about 20 minutes. They gave me the oxytocin to speed up the contractions and make them more productive. The doctor was sure that just a whiff would make me go, but once again - nothing.
The contractions were still painful and I had to breathe through them, but the edge had come off when the baby’s heart rate dropped to 60 and didn’t come back up between contractions. The called the doctor in and had her check me. I had no idea what was going on, but they got me up on my hands and knees and then began to ask me when I had last eaten, if I was wearing jewellery etc. Next thing I know, they said, the baby needs to come out right now… and I was being wheeled away. I looked back at Jarett and told him to come. They said that he couldn’t, and they wheeled me into the operating room. As I got there, the nurse reminded the anaesthesiologist that I had a history of Malignant Hypothermia in my family. This meant I couldn’t have general anaesthesia (because some relatives have died and/or gone into comas after having some) unless they cleaned out a machine, which they didn‘t have time to do. Apparently a baby has about 7 minutes with a low heart rate before brain damage occurs, so they were down to less than 4 minutes left. The doctor pulled a tarp over me, and said to the anaesthesiologist, “Okay, I’m cutting”. He responded, “I haven’t given her anything yet…” “I have to start now.” “Okay, go ahead then.” I can tell you that those are some of the most frightening words you can possibly hear. Immediately afterwards, I felt the knife go in. I felt them moving things around, cutting through the muscle and I felt the baby being pulled out. I started to grab at my stomach, and two nurses came and grabbed my hands, telling me to squeeze them. I had to focus on one of the nurses, but I just couldn’t process everything that was going on. I truly have never been so scared in my life. I was terrified that we might lose this baby, or at best he might have brain damage; I needed my husband, and they took me away from him; and I was about to go into a C-Section without any real anesthesia. I was bawling, just unable to know what to even think. This nurse, Anita, was grabbing my hand and telling me that I was doing great and that, although I was in pain, it would be okay soon. While that was going on, the anesthesiologist was yelling to the nurses to stop worrying about what they were doing and get him this or that. Because I had the epidural in my back, he had access to administer some narcotics to me after about a minute. As soon as they kicked in, I was able to distance myself from the pain. I could still feel it, but all I could see was this big cube coming towards me that I had to fight my way through like a maze… after I got through the maze, I could maybe fight the pain, but I had to get through the maze first. It was SUCH a strange sensation. I suppose that is what it would be like to be high on drugs… but it was really quite scary to me. Every once in a while, I’d be able to fight my way to open my eyes and see the lights overhead. I turned my head, and Jarett was there holding the baby. I remember saying, “Oh, hi hon…” and began to cry. I was so excited to see him, I felt like suddenly I could do anything, because Jarett was there to make it okay. The other thing, was that he was holding the baby in his arms. I will forever have that image in my memory. He was in his grubs, holding our baby with tears in his eyes and just saying, “It’s okay, he’s fine… it’s a boy”. I started to cry again and then went back to my narcotic world. I came to again, and I asked, “Is it a boy?” as it was just finally processing in my mind. “Yes”. This repeated a few times, and then I came to enough to be aware that they had just finished the surgery. They transferred my off the gurney and moved me down to the recovery room. Jarett told me later that they got him after they realized that I wouldn’t have general anesthesia, he was in the room after maybe 2 minutes, and the baby was born and all the nurses were smiling. He could see me writhing, and just completely disoriented, but the baby was okay. Once I came to and was okay, we were so happy. We were both thrilled that it was a boy and that he was perfectly healthy.
In the recovery room, the anesthesiologist explained to me what had happened and emphasized how I did just “stellar” and that he couldn’t believe how well I dealt with it all. He left with one last comment of, “Well, you gave me a little more excitement than I had wanted today…” The OB/Gyn came in after and apologized for not being able to give me more notice of what was happening, or being able to wait and walk me through things, but what she saw was that either my uterus was about to rupture, or the chord was wrapped around the baby’s neck. Either way, a C-section was needed immediately or one of us could’ve died. She gave me a hug, telling me, once again, how proud she was of me and a big congrats. The nurse there, was the same one that was coaching me when they had started the surgery - the one that I had focused on until I got the narcotics. She was wonderful. She made me feel so proud of myself, and made me so comfortable. She let me hold the baby and have my moment to let it all go. It was there that I found out he was 7lbs 6oz and that he had done stellar on the Apgar tests (9 on both). After about an hour in recovery, they took me to the postpartum unit, where I began (what I thought would be) my 3 day recovery before heading home with my new sweet boy.December 16th, 2010 (continuing again...)
Jarett called me after he was done his "make-up" class with his professor and asked how I was doing (Jarett took his test on the Friday and did very well). My big concern was what we were going to name him. We had finally decided on a girl name (Savannah Elaine) the night before, but Jarett hadn't totally agreed with my boy name before then. He told me that after what I had been through that day, I could have any name that I wanted. So, Benson Melvin Cahoon was named, and I couldn't be more thrilled with how sweet he was.
Friday night was the night I'll never forget. The nurse came in at around midnight to check on our vitals (blood pressure, temperature etc.), and said she just wasn't sure what she was hearing in Benson and she wanted to take him to the nursery to just listen a little bit better. I was so tired, that I didn't really think anything of it. At around 2, she came back in (with the head nurse) and said that they were just a little concerned with something they were hearing his heart do, and they wanted to keep him in the nursery until they could have him assessed better. I still hadn't really registered what was going on, until the resident, Jenn, came in. She explained that they were picking up an abnormality in his heart that was causing just a little concern, so they had transfered him over to the NICU to monitor him better and get a better idea as to what was going on. At this point, I REALLY woke up and started to panic. They were asking if there was any history of heart issues in my or Jarett's family. I couldn't think. I knew some basic little things that were really of no concern, but I couldn't think straight. My little baby seemed to have some sort of a heart problem - and I couldn't think past that. They asked if I wanted to come with them to see where he was and help wrap my mind around it. Of course, I went and saw him. He was hooked up to a monitor with a bunch of cords coming off his chest and foot. He had an IV and, otherwise, was sleeping peacefully. I found out later, that his heart rate was just dropping and almost stopping. It would have one beat at around 90, then 80, then 60 and then it would just pause. The nurse that was on that night, told me later than if I hadn't still been in the hospital, he would have been a SIDS baby. His heart was just randomly stopping and then starting again. As he was peacefully sleeping, the nurses told me to go back to bed and try to get some rest (yeah right...) and they'd let me know as soon as they figured anything out.
The resident and my Ob came into my room at about 4:30 and said that they had an unofficial diagnosis of Prolonged QT Syndrome. They were quick to comfort me and asked me a lot of questions about hearing loss, family history of miscarriages etc. My head was spinning and I had no idea what to take of it. QT Syndrome refers to the interval of time that passes between two peaks on the electrocardiogram. His was longer than it should be, which is what happens in those cases where you hear of a perfectly healthy person just falling dead in the middle of a baseball game etc. Essentially, the heart misses its chance to re-set itself and just stops. It has been attributed to for many SIDS baby deaths and also many other "unexplained" deaths in older kids. Because they were able to catch this abnormality, they were going to monitor him for a week and see what happened, then put a pacemaker in to help restart his heart, should it ever stop. This would require a flight up to Edmonton (where they have better equipment for brand-new baby surgery) where he'd have surgery, a couple days to recover, then back to Calgary for another little while to be monitored.
It takes about a week to officially confirm the QT Syndrome, but they were going to hook him up to more monitors (called a Holter) and assess how his heart did over a 24 hour period. The had done an ECG (Electrocardiogram) to assess the electric pulses of the heart and they were going to do an Echocardiogram as well (for the physical assessment). After the Holter came off on Sunday night, we had to wait about 4 more days to get any results. We also had two more ECG's to go through and a 7 day waiting period to hear if he was going to need surgery immediately or not. We also found out, after about 5 days, that there is a small chance that a heart can regulate itself and be completely fine after a week of being born. It was because of this that we had to wait the 7 days and then fun another ECG.
The day after he was admitted to the NICU, I had a blood test come back that confirmed that my blood levels were really low and that I should seriously consider having a blood transfusion. I had lost a lot of blood during surgery, and instead of the numbers leveling off, they were dropping. Transfusion is a scary word in my mind because of the horror stories that I had heard, but after talking to my Uncle and my sister (a doctor and a clinical lab technician), I realized that the risks were so incredibly low that I should go ahead with it. I had 3 units of blood put in (taking about 6 hours), and slowly began to feel better. The nurses were very excited that I could stand up without looking green... which was making my trips to and from the NICU a little scary.
Thursday finally came around (Benson's 1 week birthday) and I went into the NICU. After I had been there for about an hour or so, the nurse (Shirley) and Jenn, came in with big smiles on their faces telling me that they were really happy. I couldn't believe it. They told me they talked to the cardiologist and he was SO happy with how the final ECG went and what the Holter looked like that they felt like there was no need to do surgery and that Benson could come home. They were SO pleased, in fact, that they didn't even feel like there was a need to follow up or anything. His heart had completely corrected itself (against all odds) and we had nothing to be concerned about. After a long week of worrying, that is a little hard to digest, so we were able to talk to the Cardiologist and ask all the questions that we had on our mind. He explained, essentially, that everything this week had been very precautionary and was to ensure that he was okay. As the week had progressed, his heart rate had normalized (it wasn't jumping all over the chart), his QT interval had decreased, and things had become as they should be. After that happens, it doesn't go back.
We, of course, were thrilled to come home and introduce Benson to his Brother and Sisters. From that point, I had originally planned on going home, but the recovery from my C-Section was such that I had to stay another 10 days at my moms, relying on my Mom and my sister for all the help I needed (especially considering that we didn't go more than 24 hours without one of the kids throwing up). Once the flu made it through our family (a couple times), we headed out and arrived home on Saturday the 11th of December. Since then, we've been battling colds, but we are mostly doing very well. Benson is growing and was 8lbs 4oz at the last check. As soon as we get these colds done and get Christmas shopping under control, we'll be doing GREAT! I truly can't believe how wonderfully everything has turned out and truly feel SO blessed for ALL the incredible things that have come from this little baby.
