Coming home but not staying home… (Part 2)

I came home and things felt different. The kids had come by to see me at the hospital twice and the whole ordeal had them a little freaked out. My 2 year old was sad and emotional while my 4 year old could hardly look at me and wouldn’t give me a hug. The spinal headache I had started to develop from the lumbar tap had turned into a raging storm inside of my head. The only relief I had came when I was laying flat. 

I laid on our couch trying to be present for my children. The next day I stayed home and laid in bed all morning while they went to church with my husband. My mother in law somehow brushed through and braided my 4 day old tangled, hospital hair mess all while I laid flat on the bed. I nursed my baby only while laying in bed with her next to me. I couldn’t even imagine getting up to go into town and see my primary care doctor the next day. The pain was excruciating and I was starting to panic. My blood pressure had only continued to climb since I got home. My breathing wasn’t normal. I was dizzy and lightheaded and I was worried about my kidneys. 

When Corey came back from church with the kids I broke down in tears and told him I think I needed to go back to the hospital. It had been less than 24 hours since I came home. This time we decided to go to an even bigger hospital with a better reputation in Salt Lake City in the hopes of getting answers. While Corey packed a bag for us, I cried and talked with my parents and in laws about the situation. My 4 year old walked into the room and saw me crying. I tried to smile for her so she wouldn’t be scared but I couldn’t. My 2 year old was playing in the other room and I didn’t dare tell him I was leaving again. 

Corey packed all of our things and our newborn into the car and then came back to retrieve me last. He helped me out of bed and held me steady as we walked to the mudroom to get my shoes. My shoes were not there and the pain in my head was already too much to bear so we loaded me up barefoot. 

Much like the other drive to the hospital, this one was also full of tears and anxious thoughts while I laid with the chair flat and stared at the blue sky out of my window. My spinal headache had reached a terrifying pain level and my feet and hands were starting to feel numb. Again, I was bothered by the fact that I still hadn’t said a formal prayer. I reached for my phone looking to turn on my favorite worship music to comfort me. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Just the thought of hearing the words of psalms, the words of holy promises was too much for me to bear. So I sang the words in my mind as tears fell from my eyes.

“I sought the Lord

And He answered me

And delivered me

From every fear…

This poor man cried

And the Lord heard me

And saved me from

My enemies

The son of God

Surrounds His saints

He will deliver them

He will deliver them…

Oh taste and see

That the Lord is good…

He’ll give you everything

He’ll give you everything”

I knew the words to be true and I knew God to be good. But I couldn’t bare to hear the words and I couldn’t bear to call out to Him. 

The drive was 2 hours long and I knew my newborn would be hungry when we arrived at the hospital. The entire drive I was going back and forth in my mind on if I could bear to feed her before going inside. The guilt inside of me was ripping me apart but I knew it would not be possible for me to feed her when we arrived to the hospital. When you’re a mom, all you want is to be able to provide for your children what they need and I felt I was failing her and my other two kids. 

Thankfully - truly, all thanks and praise be to God - we had discovered at the last hospital that she could take a bottle quite easily and I had some of my milk in a cooler. As we neared the hospital I told Corey I was in too much pain to feed her but that she was my main concern. I told him that once we were in there she needed to be his main priority. The nurses and doctors could take care of me but he needed to be fully focused on her. I explained how to get a bottle ready for her and desperately hoped she would take it happily and not be crying in the ER. 

We pulled up to the ER doors and a man came out with a wheelchair to bring me inside. Still no shoes. Tears were leaking out of my eyes as I tried to think through the pounding, excruciating  pain. I sputtered key words that I hoped would help them understand some of the situation and get me back as quickly as possible. A nurse hooked me up to take my vitals as another nurse at the desk looked at me while eating chips out of a bag. Nobody seemed concerned. My blood pressure came back very high and the nurse said she needed to take it again since she thought the machine had taken it wrong. She tried my other arm. Still high. 

Everything was taking an eternity all the while my head kept pounding. They wheeled me out of the waiting area and into triage where a nurse looked at me and said “what brings you in today?” I didn’t know how to answer that question. It seemed like everything was wrong and all I could think about was the pain that made me actually want to die. I sputtered out the same words I told the lady at check in. She typed into a computer for what felt like an eternity. Finally they wheeled me back to a room where I was able to lie flat again on the bed. Relief. 

My nurse came in and he reminded me of one of Corey’s uncles. That made me feel better. He was kind, calm, confident, and efficient. He hooked me up to all of the monitors. They told me they were going to give me the “headache cocktail” for my pain. I wondered if it was safe for me to breastfeed with those drugs. I wondered if my milk supply was going to drop or if I would get a clogged duct since I was skipping a feed and couldn’t pump. I wondered where Corey and my baby were and if she was crying or not. 

The nurse told me that the meds would make me drowsy. That made me hesitate but I couldn’t manage to get any thoughts formed enough to speak and he was already in the process of administering the drugs into my IV. Even in excruciating pain I couldn’t stop worrying about my baby and I knew that if I was drowsy I wouldn’t be able to care for her if she needed me. And I needed to be able to nurse her if she was upset.

Corey found my room and came in with the baby soon after I got the drugs. My baby wasn’t crying and she was taking a bottle just fine. Sweet sweet relief. Too much gratitude to form into words. The medication went straight to my head and it was spinning. I was extremely dizzy and couldn’t speak. The nurse said it would go away in a bit. 

They wheeled me on the bed to take a chest x-ray. I couldn’t open my eyes or hardly form a coherent thought. I figured they would just lay me down and x-ray my chest. But when we got into the room the technician said I needed to stand for the x-ray. I thought that was absolutely impossible. I was extremely unsteady and weak. She moved my bed as close to where I needed to stand as possible. She helped me up and I took one step to the machine where I grabbed on to handles and hugged the machine desperately trying not to fall down. They took two different x-rays and it felt like an eternity. I collapsed back onto the bed exhausted. 

They wheeled me to CT to scan my head. I couldn’t open my eyes or do more than mumble when they spoke to me. They helped me move from my bed to lay down for the scan. I remember laying there for what felt like 30 minutes. No one spoke to me and the machine just buzzed as it moved me in and out. 

They took me back to my room. My baby was still not crying. Corey was pacing with her. Thank you God. Thank you Corey. Thank you for my baby not crying. I couldn’t handle if my baby had been crying and I was physically unable to help her. 

Knowing that my baby was ok gave me permission to try and relax. I was so drowsy. I hate feeling like I’m not in control of my body. I hate medication that makes me feel drowsy. I hate not having my full faculties about me. It makes me feel panicked. But I kept telling myself this is to help me feel better. This is to help me calm down. 

Your baby is ok, it is ok to rest. Your baby is ok, it is ok to rest. Your baby is ok, it is ok to rest. 

I just kept repeating that over and over again in my mind. I tried to get comfortable on the ER cot with all the wires and fresh IV and blood pressure cuff going off every 15 minutes. I was so tired but couldn’t find any rest. My eyes were closed and I wasn’t speaking. All I could do was lay there and try to relax my mind and body while my ears were perked up just waiting to hear if my baby needed me. It felt like my drugged body was a prison that I couldn’t escape from. 

The pain in my head had been bad. But the numbness in my body from the medication was just a different kind of bad. 

Four hours we stayed in the ER. The doctor thought my symptoms all pointed to the same diagnosis as the first doctor from that rural hospital earlier in the week. Other doctors were consulted and things got confusing again. 

But one thing they felt they could solve for me in the ER was my spinal headache. The main source of my pain. They recommended a blood patch. I was hesitant to accept one. Last time they had tried to get a needle into my spine it didn’t go very well and was very painful and left me with a huge bruise. I wasn’t too sure that I wanted to go through that again and especially not if the success rate of a blood patch wasn’t very high. 

The anesthesiologist came in to talk to me. He listened to me explain my experience with the lumbar tap. He was humble and kind. He explained the procedure of the blood patch and the pros and cons. He gave me time and space to decide if I wanted it. I talked to Corey. We were both hesitant. But ultimately, I was desperate for the spinal headache to be gone. 

The anesthesiologist came in with his assistant and they prepped everything they possibly could before asking me to sit up. Once I was sat up they both worked quickly. The assistant drew blood out of my arm while the anesthesiologist prepped my back and inserted the needle to find the correct place. Within two minutes and very little pain he had found the correct spot. I could’ve cried tears of joy if I wasn’t so afraid of moving my spine and ruining the whole thing. He inserted the blood from my arm into my spinal area and then laid me back down. He told me to lay flat for at least an hour so that it could work. 

I laid flat for 3 hours before getting up to go pee and then laying flat again until morning. I wasn’t going to mess that up. I needed it to work. 

After the blood patch they admitted me to the hospital and pushed me on the bed up to my room. Four nurses came to lift and slide me from one bed to the next so I didn’t have to sit or stand. It felt a little embarrassing and “needy” to have four nurses drop what they were doing because my legs weren’t broken or anything - but I was so grateful that they all made it seem casual and no big deal because I really needed that spinal headache to be gone. 

It was quite late in the evening at this point and after 4 days in the last hospital I knew the drill - nothing important happens at night. Sure they wake you to take your blood and vitals and check in on you. But if you’re not dying then you’re not seeing the doctor. I was ready and desperate for a night of sleep. 

The nurses said they couldn’t get a bassinet from the mom/baby floor for my baby to sleep in. Thankfully my cousin lived across the street and had a bassinet we could borrow. Corey’s sister also only lived 15 minutes away and had been waiting for us to get out of the ER so she could bring us dinner. 

Blessings upon blessings. That tortilla soup brought me back to life as the drowsy medication was wearing off, my pain was dulled and still, my sweet baby was content with her daddy. So much relief.