My Ambulance Ride - 12/23/06

I would never wish upon you any emergency involving your unborn child. It is my understanding that these things are rare, but they do happen. That was why we were so surprised when we thought we’d discovered that one of these childbirth emergencies was happening to us.

We’ve happily registered and attended several childbirth classes up till now through our hospital. These include Preparation for Childbirth (think labor and delivery prep, including breathing and relaxation techniques), Prenatal Breastfeeding, and Baby Care Basics. All very worthwhile classes. In our Prep for Childbirth class, we learned of some of the dangers that may occur during labor. There was one that they labeled a 911-call, and that’s if the umbilical cord is protruding through the birth canal before the baby. This is a very dangerous, though rare circumstance, that can cut off both air and blood supply to the baby—endangering her little life. This is the danger we faced on the day before Christmas Eve this year.

I was in the shower when I noticed there was a “bulge” protruding from er—“down there.” It felt smooth and soft, and definitely had no nerve endings that seemed to belong to me. Since this part of my body has become increasingly difficult to inspect, I called in the only other expert I knew on the subject—my husband. He said that whatever it was appeared to be a purplish color, and definitely wasn’t normally there. So this threw our otherwise normal morning into complete chaos.

Ira called our OB’s line, but since it was Saturday and the office was closed, he had to wait for the on-call doctor to return our call. So while waiting for the one, he called 911—who immediately dispatched an emergency team.

I was calmly trying to towel off as much as possible, and then immediately tried to elevate my pelvis (something they’d mentioned in classes you were supposed to do to alleviate pressure on the cord). Whatever-it-was felt like it popped back in when I did this. Ira had me move to the bedroom and cover up with a sheet, so that when the medics arrived several moments later I wasn’t naked on the bathroom floor with my hair all wet—I was naked under the sheets with my hair all wet. A much better situation.

I heard the sirens scream up our street and dreaded the thought that they were coming for me, and that all the neighbors would see. I was completely mortified. But I still hoped that all this drama was for nothing, even if it would just make us seem like panicked first-time parents.

There were suddenly 8 male emergency peeps in my untidy, unprepared house. Asking personal questions, and one was inspecting me. Whatever-it-was was no longer visible, and after ruling some items out (since I’d so recently had an ultrasound) the medic made speculations that it might be several different things… the cord, the amniotic sac, or possibly a blood clot. They wrapped me up in blankets, walked me to the gurney, and wheeled me to the ambulance. Ira followed us to the hospital a few minutes behind.

All I could do was pray that everything would be ok for our little baby Grace. We were so worried about her well-being. But I felt reassured that she was ok, because I was feeling little kicks here and there. A sign of fetal distress is lack of movement—and she was still moving, so that was a good sign.

In the ambulance, they slipped an IV in my arm, strapped on heart rate monitors, and fed me oxygen. I tried joking with them as much as possible over the next 30 minutes spent in agonizingly slow holiday traffic. They didn’t feel it necessary to put on the sirens on the way to the hospital as there weren’t any visible signs that I or Grace were in any danger. But the medic speculated that he thought there was a 90% chance I would deliver that day—and that my water had likely broken in the shower without my realizing it.

A 90% chance?!? Woah. I was thinking how unprepared we were for Grace’s arrival still. We had just assembled the crib at least, but nothing else was really ready yet—we didn’t even have a 4-door vehicle to put the car seat in. I had no dresser for her clothes, and as I mentioned before, our house was a wreck from prepping for the holidays. But I realized we might not get a chance to prepare—she could come that day whether we were ready or not.

We arrived at the hospital, and I thought how ironic it was that I’d wanted a tour of the maternity ward—and now I was getting one from the comfort of a gurney, being wheeled by my very own ambulance team of 3. I felt so helpless and completely out of control. And as they wheeled me into my room I saw the little baby bed, and it all came flying at me that I could have a new little person in my life in a matter of moments.

Ira was by my side within 5 minutes as the maternity ward nurses took over. They were monitoring Grace’s heartrate and my contractions in no-time. All of which looked good and normal—thank God! My OB was there very shortly—he was very concerned, and started his examination…

It took just a few moments to confirm that yes, there WAS something there. However, the doctor inspected further, and showed the nurse how it was actually a vaginal cyst. She exclaimed that it looked just like the amniotic sac would if it had descended. Upon further discussion, my OB assured me I had nothing to be concerned about—that while cysts like this aren’t entirely common, they aren’t harmful, and I could still deliver vaginally when it was time. He said that we’d done the right thing by coming in. Whew. We received confirmation both that Grace was ok, and that we weren’t totally crazy all at once. This was quite reassuring.

Because this cyst wasn’t going away anytime soon, I asked the nurse how I would be able to tell the difference should something actually be quite wrong. She said that was a very good question… if it was the cord, she said that it would appear to be slightly more twisted and have somewhat of a pulse to it; if it was the sac, I would likely be in a lot of discomfort.

As I dressed in the clothes that Ira had snagged from the house before leaving (thank you!), I thought about how truly blessed we were. It was a scary experience, but I thank God that it was all for nothing. Some people are not so fortunate.

One week later, we’ve done some serious baby shopping to wrap up loose ends, and purchased our “baby-wagon.” Still have a bit of a ways to go, but we’re ever so much more prepared than we were at Christmas.

Ira and I pray that your Christmas and New Years were truly blessed, much less eventful than ours, and that you found yourself surrounded by those you love.

Looking forward to a fabulous and life-changing 2007,
Christy