It did not happen as planned...but Alex is here safe and sound

Climbing into the car Wednesday morning, bag in hand, our minds were buzzing with the excitement and anticipation of meeting our long-awaited baby later that day. We were heading to the hospital to be induced so, of course, he would be making his appearance by that evening, or the next morning at the latest. Working with many doctors and specialists before and throughout the pregnancy, we were well aware of all possible complications and had a careful plan of action lain out. With candles and soft music in hand, and smiles on our faces, we were hoping for “plan A” to transpire.

Sparing you the nitty-gritty details, we got to the hospital and began the process of jumpstarting my body into labor. This took longer than we had thought. The first two days in the hospital were full of doctors of various disciplines coming and going in preparation, and slow progress toward his birth. The third day, the pitocin was started and labor began. As the contractions got stronger and closer together throughout the day, attempts were made at pain management, but the epidural did not work due to the rods and fusion of my back. The carefully-monitored baby remained even-keel and happy as a clam the whole time. Evening grew nearer and my body was not progressing past a 5, despite the frequent strong contractions. The decision was made to turn off the pitocin and get the baby out through an awake C-section. C-section was something we were hoping to avoid, but being awake would be okay because I would not have to be intubated (as intubation is risky due to my lung weakness).

We were quickly prepared and brought in to the operating room. It was so bright and sterile, with cheesy Aaron Nevile music playing in the background. Not really the environment we had envisioned to welcome our little one. I sat up on the edge of the table and with Mike holding me up, the anesthesiologist began poking my back in attempts to place a spinal block. With each poke, the needle would hit bone or metal. He tried and tried with the guide of an ultrasound machine, x-ray, and colleagues. Forty-five minutes of poking at my spine is definitely one of the top five worst experiences of my life. And before I knew it, I was getting prepped to be put under general anesthesia.

Mike takes over the story – as I was intubated and asleep.

I felt a strange mixture of happiness and anxiety when the nurses brought Alex out. He was pink, screaming and healthy. His hair was an absolute surprise – both Mindy and I expected the Asian genes to make a strong showing with dark hair; instead he had lots of blond hair. At the same time, the C section was still in progress with Mindy under general anesthesia. I was nervous every time the nurse came in to keep me updated. A half hour had passed since I was told that the operation was completed. The nurse said that Mindy still was not breathing on her own and was not responding to any stimuli, so she had to remain intubated. Alex was rolled off to the nursery while Mindy was headed to the ICU.

The ICU is a strange place – the workers stay up at all hours of the night, watching computer monitors that flash vital signs and alerts when blood pressures or heart rates drop. It was an older wing of the hospital and had a cold, dark, sterile institutional look, kind of like the asylum in “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” When Mindy was wheeled in, the room was full of doctors, residents, and nurses. When I got there, they had given Mindy Fentinyl, a powerful pain medication (81 times as powerful as morphine, according to the most reliable source of information on the planet- Wikipedia.) None of us knew just how sensitive Mindy was to medication. As she was given the medication, her heart rate went down to 39. They quickly counteracted the medication and turned the amounts down. It was in this context my doctor told me to get some rest, as Alex and Mindy would need me tomorrow. Sleep was not to be. I went back to my room and downed some food almost without thinking about it, realizing I hadn’t eaten all day. It was impossible to try to sleep, so I went and visited Alex in the Nursery and then headed to the ICU. On my way there, I was met by an ICU worker who said “Oh good, I was just looking for you – Mindy is trying to say something but I don’t know what.”

Mindy was hooked up to all kinds of tubes and machines that kept her breathing and monitored her vital signs. As they had learned from the Fentanyl incident earlier, they had begun to back off of her medications a bit, and the sedatives had started to wear off a little. Mindy would come to for a few minutes, opening her eyes and trying to make gestures to us. We couldn’t really understand what she was saying, so we got an alphabet board and had her spell out messages to us. It was actually kind of comical- Mindy would awaken for a moment, drunkenly try to spell out a sentence, fall asleep halfway through and then complete the sentence! First, she wondered about the baby, and then, in classic defiant, stubborn Mindy style: “T-U-B-E-S-O-U-T-N-O-W!”

Conferring with the residents and the lead Doc who was on call, they decided that they could not actuate Mindy until our Respiratory Therapist came at nine the next morning. They had tried to page him, but were unable to get a hold of him until seven the next morning, when he instantly came back in. Mindy was actuated and began to breathe on her own immediately, miraculously not having lost any function compared to her Pulmonary Function Tests prior to the pregnancy. However, Mindy was very weak and had to stay in the ICU for a day. It took her a few days to be able to talk normally, swallow, and get out of bed.

Our stay in the hospital totaled almost nine days. Contrary to what one may think, the hospital is a horrible place to get rest. Doctors, nurses and housekeeping people came in almost every hour, even during the middle of the night. On our final day, we had a scare when Mindy woke up in the middle of the night and had difficulty breathing. We were sent downstairs for a chest X-ray at 4 AM. At that particular moment we were thinking: What now? Have we reached our limit yet? Do we even have a limit? Thankfully, the X-Ray turned out to be clear, and we checked out at noon that day.

We’d like to thank all of our Doctors, nurses, people at the ICU, parents, friends, Mindy’s aides and family for all of the support and assistance. We have not been the best at communicating for a bit, not because we wanted to, but because of everything that has happened the past few weeks. Throughout it all, people have been awesome with helping us with dinners, moral support, and basically everything. We would not have survived any of this without your love, prayers, and help. Thank you on behalf of our family!