Where do I begin...

Hello blog...it's been awhile. Weeks, actually. On March 6th, life threw us a curve ball that we were never expecting, and while I have been unable to document everything up to this point, tonight I vow to catch up...way up. I am unsure how I will be able to get through this with dry eyes, and I don't even really know the best way to capture everything that I have felt over the past two weeks in words. But I guess the best thing to do is start at the beginning...I will follow-up with photos in another blog posting.

Saturday, March 6th:

I awoke at 7:04am to go to the bathroom, nothing out of the ordinary. I remember looking at the clock and thinking that I would get to go back to sleep for a few hours since it was Saturday. Wrong. I got to the bathroom and that's when my world turned upside down. Blood. Panic. "Philip, we need to go to the hospital". Shakey voice, shakey hands, sheer panic. I was only 34 weeks and 2 days. It wasn't time. What happened? I was just sleeping? I called the 24-hour OBGYN emergency line, awaiting the doctor on call to call me back, called Jenn my sister in law, who knows about this stuff...she confirmed what I knew: "you need to go to the hospital right now." Of course, being so early, I didn't have a hospital bag packed...just grabbed a t-shirt, sweatpants, uggs, and my purse...Philip fed Hunter and we got in the car and left...everything happened in less than 5 minutes. The car ride felt long, Philip did a great job of getting us there without breaking too many laws, lots of praying, the fear that I lost my baby constantly entering my mind and me pushing it aside. Praying. Calling parents. Arrived curbside at Northside L&D at around 7:30am. My nerves were out of control, in fact, my blood pressure was 150...I just wanted someone to hook me up to a monitor and tell me our baby girl was okay. Finally, in a room with the fetal heart rate monitor hooked up and I heard it, Kinsley's heartbeat, strong and unfazed by what had happened, in mid-140's BPM. I cried tears of utter relief. She was still with us. The bleeding happened again, this time with doctors and nurses present and they decided to hold me overnight to see if they could find out where it was coming from. That 1 overnight turned into a 72-hour hold as we were moved up to High-Risk Care the following day. High risk? I haven't been high-risk my entire pregnancy? I have had a "perfect" pregnancy! How did this happen? And what exactly was happening? So many questions...

Tuesday, March 9th:

Routine bedside ultrasound that I started receiving every morning to check the baby and to see if there was any detection as to the source of the bleeding. Nothing had shown up the previous 2-3 days, and Kinsley was estimated at about 5 1/2 lbs. But the ultrasound on this morning was the turning point...Kinsley had shifted from her normal position to the other side of my belly to reveal the cause of the mysterious bleeding...a blood clot formed below a small tear in the placenta. I was diagnosed with a "placental abruption." In other words: a tear or separation in the placenta. I was placed on bedrest at the hospital until delivery. Our goal was to get me to 36 weeks (only 2 Thursday's away), and then if possible, 37 weeks, but they would not let me pass the 37 week mark. But we wouldn't make it that far before our sweet pea was ready to make her grand entrance...

Thursday, March 11th:

Same routine ultrasound to check the progress (or lack of progress) of the blood clot. On Wednesday, it looked like it was getting smaller, which got us all hopeful that it was "healing" and we would be able to let our baby girl keep cookin' in my belly for a few more weeks. We thought all was clear on this ultrasound too, so I sent Philip on his way to work while I had my laptop out to start working later that morning. Not so. As the ultrasound tech came back in and probed a little further, and as the doppler was rolling across my belly, I felt a shooting pain in my lower right abdomen. After being examined by the doctor, he put his hand on my shoulder and said the words that changed our life, "We're gonna have a baby today." Just like that. I was terrified, and he was thrilled. I had made it to 35 weeks exactly, and that was a huge milestone in high-risk pregnancies. All I could think is, "But I am 5 weeks early, I am not ready yet, Kinsley's not ready yet, no one is ready yet." The concern was that the pain was in the area of the abruption, and that could be a sign it was getting ready to worsen, which was our worst-case scenario. Tears. I called Philip, I think I said something like, "Phil, you're gonna meet your daughter today...we're having the baby today." More tears. Called family, called work, texted friends, updated FB status on my phone...thank goodness I had just eaten breakfast that morning before the ultrasound (double order of french toast - it was delicious), so they had to wait 8 hours before they could conduct the c-section surgery. So I got to shower, my family came to our room, we laughed, we cried, we prayed (a lot), Philip and I spent some one-on-one time together. Excited. Scared. Anxious. Nervous. So many emotions. I felt like I was sort of in a dream all day, like this wasn't happening. When was it going to hit me that I was actually going to have my baby girl that day? At around 2:00 we were wheeled from our high-risk room to the pre-op room. Oh, the pain of the epidural when you don't have any labor contraction pain to balance it out. It hurt. Bad. Feeling woozy...feeling, well, nothing in my legs or my torso. A feeling of losing control of your body. Finally, they called for us, "STANFORD, OR #4" It was time. Being wheeled to OR, Philip in his Dr. McDreamy scrubs beside me, holding my hand, camera ready. Both of us crying. NOW, it would hit me. And it hit me hard. I was going into surgery, and when I would come out I would be a mommy. I almost couldn't take it all in. It became overwhelming. I was loopy. I needed oxygen. Philip had to wait outside the OR until they got me prepped. I remember laying there, this all-white room, trying to say thank you to all the nurses and doctors as I wheeled by, but couldn't form the words. Our "angel" Dr. Marshall reassuring me that everything was going to be fine and that we would have a baby in a few minutes. I was so nervous. Philip was allowed to come in at that point, the surgery was "announced" and started and in what felt like 5 minutes, I heard the most unbelievable sound I have ever heard...the cries of our daughter as she entered the world at 5:29pm, weighing 5 lbs 2 oz and 17.5" long. Long limbs, blue eyes, blond hair...her eyes were open when they brought her to me. Oh, I wanted to hold her so badly, but I couldn't. Philip had the camera out capturing everything. It was the most unbelievable experience of our lives. I went to "recovery" while Philip followed Kinsley to the transition nursery (because she was under 36 weeks) to be evaluated. APGAR scores of 8 and 9. Wonderful news. The whole family arrives to see her through the window. Lots of tears and hugs and happiness, all caught on camera. I missed it all. The recovery room is a hard place to be without your baby. Finally, I could move my legs and got the okay to be wheeled to a "real" hospital room 2 hours later. That's where I learned the news...Kinsley would not be joining me there...she was going to NICU. My heart sank. After 8 months of carrying this child inside me, she was delivered, I saw her and touched her face for a brief second, and then she was whisked away and now I couldn't see her until 5:30am, 12 hours after she arrived. That was unbelievably hard. I was in so much pain, and now I couldn't see or hold my baby.

Friday, March 12th:

Seeing Kinsley for the first time was bitter sweet. I always envisioned holding my baby in the hospital room after delivery, a chunky baby, a full-term baby, a healthy baby. In the little wooden bed that "well babies" are placed in. I never envisioned this. My baby in NICU, a C-PAP machine and tubes in her nose helping her lungs inflate so she can breathe, a feeding tube in her mouth going down into her stomach so she can "eat," monitors hooked up to her chest and feet, an I.V. the size of her hand placed in her hand, and while there was no incubator, she was in a special type of bed since she was a preemie. She was so small, and I was so sad, tired, scared, happy, nervous...once again, so many emotions all at one time. Philip and I had officially become part of a preemie parents club...a club that we never signed up for, but were now part of. For the remainder of the weekend, we would watch her monitors and will her to "keep your oxygen in the 90's." We prayed so hard.

Monday, March 15th:

A big morning. I got up early to spend some time with Kinsley down in NICU, and was shocked when I arrived at her bed to discover that the large C-PAP tubes had been replaced with a smaller, less evasive high-flow oxygen tub. Our baby girl had her strengthened her lungs over the past few days and didn't need the C-PAP's help inflating them any more. Now she was just getting some small doses of oxygen from the high-flow machine, and in a few days, she would be weened off of that too! Since the C-PAP tube was removed, this was also the first day that we got to do skin-to-skin. I will never forget it. Kinsley's tiny warm body fit right up on my chest and she fell asleep the minute her head hit my skin, right above my heart so she could hear my heartbeat. She smelled of precious new baby. She made little squeaks and noises and she nestled in. It was amazing. Later that week, Philip was able to do skins-to-skin. What an incredible site to witness your husband holding his newborn baby girl against his chest. She was funny, grabbing at his chest hair like "hey, what is this?" and staring up at him as he talked to her, until she finally fell asleep. I think that was a little piece of heaven for Philip...he is absolutely smitten by his baby girl. She has him wrapped around her finger...tight.

BUT, Monday was ALSO our discharge day from the hospital. My c-section staples were removed and we received our discharge papers and were told that we had the room until midnight. I think we left at 11pm. We had been dreading this moment all weekend. So many tears from both of us on the ride home. No parent EVER wants to leave the hospital without their child. I watched so many other couples leave over the past several days that we were there at the hospital...mom being wheeled out by a nurse in a wheelchair with the baby in her lap, dad following behind pushing a cart of luggage, flowers, balloons, and the look of joy on their faces. Another experience we didn't get to have. But we will have our moment someday...

Sunday, March 20th:

Fast-forward almost a week, and here we are. I am finally getting all of these emotions out. Finally calling people back, updating my blog, updating FB, need to catch up on mail / bills, etc. Earlier this week, Kinsley was moved up to the 7th floor "less critical" NICU after being taken off all of he oxygen support, and the main concentration now is feeding and weight gain. For a preemie, they need to gain back their birth weight and learn to feed without the feeding tube for all 8 meals a day. We are practicing suck/swallow/breathe feeding technique...I found out that babies typically do not develop that skill until later in the pregnancy, so she is learning. She has a strong suction, though, and is getting it down quickly. Right now Kinsley is taking about 1 1/2 bottles a day and we are now breast feeding at at least once a day. Luckily, my milk came in on day 3 after birth, so thankfully she is now completely on breast milk, no formula, and I am keeping up with her so far. She is digesting the milk better and is putting on more weight. As of today, she is 5 lbs, 1 oz, almost back to birth weight, but we are still a long way from the 8 feedings a day, so we still have a tough road ahead of us before they will release her. Philip and I have to take a mandatory preemie CPR class Tuesday. Scary...I hope we never have to use what we learn. And we are in a routine now...one of us by Kinsley's bed as much as possible throughout the day. With her through feedings, changing her diapers, pumping bedside, talking with doctors, nurses, feeding specialists, lactation specialists, family/friends dropping by...there is no down time...I thought there would be. Time flies there. And speaking of family, especially our moms...cooking, cleaning, driving me (as I still cannot drive), picking up things at the grocery store and baby store...I have absolutely no idea how we could do this without our family here to help. We keep thanking God above that this didn't happen to us down in MS...this is why we needed to be back in Atlanta. God had a plan.

I cannot begin to put into words how proud we are of our little peanut. She is consistently amazing the doctors with how quickly she is progressing. Her strength that she is getting from God is astounding...she is so, so strong. And she has changed physically so much over the past week and a half, turning into our little girl, and getting so much more coordinated. We cannot wait to get her home. The nursery is ready, Hunter is ready, mommy and daddy are ready...all we are missing is her. We love Kinsley so much...I don't think either of us was prepared for the sheer amount of love that we would feel for this child. It's almost overwhelming. Kinsley has brought us life. I can't imagine living without her now. We continue to pray for her to strengthen and grow so she can come home and we can be a family...soon.