Most Painful Week of My Life

On Monday, 3/30/09, I headed to my hospital for a regular prenatal checkup. Being at about 33 1/2 weeks gestation, I was excited for my routine appointment. Little did I know, that day was the first of many days that would leave a painful memory in my heart. As I laid in the chair, smiling to my husband and daughter (who was sitting on his lap), I thought to myself that in just a few weeks... our little family of three will soon be a family of four. Life couldn't get any better.

When my doctor came into the room, he performed an ultrasound to see how the baby was doing. Going with the norm, I noticed that he seemed quiet with a serious look on his face. I asked him if there was anything wrong (still feeling comfort with the sound of my son's heart beating in the background), he told me that my amniotic fluids were running on the low side. He ended my appointment and told me to admit myself to labor and delivery. The plan was to keep me in for 48 hours and regulate my AF levels with dextrose and bed rest. Also, he said it would be a good idea to have a two-part steroid shot administered to help out with my baby's lung development.

Upon my admittance, I still felt extremely confused with everything that was happening. My doctor explained too many things in a short matter of time. I assume he rushed his explanations because he just wanted me to go to the hospital right away. Luckily, the great staff in the L&D Department told me everything I needed to know:

- Normal range of AF should be 5-25 ( I was borderline at low 5's)

- Low AF level would result in fatal umbilical cord complications

- The steroid shot would help out the baby's lungs develop faster

- They would monitor me closely to make sure the baby wasn't showing signs of distress, if signs occurred.. an emergency c-section would be performed

So, I was in the hospital for two days and felt so lucky that I had the first appointment of the week. If it was a later appointment, I would have lost the baby a lot sooner. The nurses that cared for me were wonderful, and really tried their best to tend to my needs.

Come Tuesday morning, a perinatologist came into my room to perform an ultrasound. And thank the Lord, my AF level reached 6; I was finally in the safe range. I was so happy to hear the news because I missed my daughter and husband so much and really wanted to be home with them. However, the perinatologist noticed that the baby's heart beat was extremely fast. It was at 180BPM (120-160 being normal). I was suppose to be discharged on the spot, but he asked me to stay in for a little longer so they can monitor my baby's heart beat. I stayed their until 6:00 PM, and he decided to to discharge me because the baby's heart rate calmed down.

Upon being discharged, I was given easy instructions. Bed rest wasn't required, but I had to make sure on taking things easy at home. Also, the perinatologist said that he definitely wanted me to see a nurse practitioner twice a week for a non-stress test to monitor the baby's heart rate.

I went home Tuesday night, and took things very easy. All day Wednesday, I felt great and smiled every time my active baby kicked. I felt that he was trying to let me know that he was doing just fine in my tummy.

Thursday morning, I had my first non-stress test with a nurse practitioner. The fetal monitor was back at 180BPM, and I asked her if that was fine. She said to me that the baby was just being active, and assured me not to worry. Afterwards, she performed an ultrasound and told me that the AF level went up to an 11. I left the appointment feeling more at ease.

I continued to feel normal throughout the day, and then things started to take a downward turn. At around 6:00PM, I started to feel contractions. Waiting it out, I made sure it was not Braxton Hicks before making the call to the hospital's L&D. When I made the call, the nurse on the phone instructed me to lay down on my left side and call back if i get six contractions within the next hour. I did just what she asked, and reached six contractions before half an hour had ended. I called her back, and she told me to arrive at the hospital.

At 9:30PM, my husband Jason and I reached the L&D department, and they hooked me up to two sensors: one for contractions and one for the baby's heart beat. The doctor clocked in that night checked to see if I was dilated yet; which I wasn't. Knowing that it is a bit too early to deliver, I felt relief, However, I looked over to the machine that measures the fetal heart rate, and the number went all the way to 215BPM. I told the doctor my concerns with the fast heart beat. I even told her of what happened on Tuesday, when the perinatologist did not want to discharge me at 180BPM. She laughed at me in one of my most darkest hours of despair, and told me to calm down. She said that the baby was being active. Knowing how worried I was, she rolled in the ultrasound machine and pointed out that the baby was fine, and that his AF levels were at a comfortable range of 11 now. Still, Jason and I couldn't believe the heart rate: baseline was 180, and it went all the way up to 215! She sent us home because I wasn't in active labor. I told her that my contractions were still there, and she said to call back when the pain of the contractions get unbearable. I got discharged at 2:00AM.

That whole Friday, I still felt the contractions coming in every 10-15 minutes, but dared not to call back since the pain wasn't "unbearable." I also made sure to take things easy, hydrate well, and pay attention to the baby's active kicks. Looking back, that particular Friday went by all too fast.

In the middle of the night (between Friday night and Saturday morning), I was awakened from 10 seconds of abdominal cramping. It felt like the baby was moving like crazy for those short 10 seconds, and then... just stopped. Being awaken from his nightly (less) active kicks before, I just went back to sleep thinking nothing was wrong. In the morning when the sun had risen, I got up from bed noticing that the baby wasn't kicking. I thought to myself that maybe he was sleeping because of the active movements from the middle of the night. Also, I noticed that my contractions had start to come every 5-10 minutes now. An hour had passed, and he still wasn't kicking. I tried to do every technique possible just to feel one kick: drank fruit juice, laid on my left side, even had my two year old sing to my tummy... nothing. Then I went to the bathroom to empty out my bladder. After urinating, I wiped myself and screamed for my husband. He ran in the bathroom and we stood there looking down at the tissue... which had traces of blood on it.

I tried my best not to panic. While we were rushing to get dressed, I was on the phone with L&D telling them about the contractions, the sudden shake in my tummy during the middle of the night, the lack of movement, and the blood. My head was spinning, but I just needed to stay focused and get myself to the hospital.

When we arrived, I asked Jason to just drop me off because I didn't want our two year old daughter to come into the hospital seeing her mommy hooked up to scary looking machines. So the two went across the street to grab a quick lunch. As I walked in the hospital by myself, I prayed to God that everything was okay with our baby. Despite the bad signs, I was still hoping for the best.

The beautiful nurse that discharged me on Tuesday night was the one that took care of me when I had arrived. She laid me down and did the usual; only that things turned out differently this time. What use to only take a few seconds to do, took several minutes. The nurse was working on my 34 week pregnant stomach trying to find a heartbeat; but there was only silence that filled the air. After 15 minutes, she left the room and came back with the doctor working that shift, and together, rolled in the ultrasound machine. I was trying so hard to keep in the tears because I knew my baby was gone.

The doctor was facing the monitor as he was moving the sensor around on my stomach. And then for a brief moment, had eye contact with the nurse. Before turning around to look at me, I already had tears rolling down before he said, "Bad news, we couldn't find a heart beat." At that moment, the doctor, nurse, and myself were all crying in that room. When the sobbing had settled, I finally found strength to speak. "How?"

"Your AF level is down to a 4, and I predict that your baby's heart stopped beating due to cord complications. His rapid movements in the middle of the night must have been his last struggle before he had passed, I'm so sorry."

At that point, I wished my heart stopped beating, too. Just to take this sickening pain away from my body.

I asked them to call my husband and have him drop off my daughter at the grandparents' house before joining me. And on his way to the hospital, he called me crying on the phone. "Be strong, Honey. I'm almost there." The sound of his voice sounded weak, but yet strong. When he arrived, he laid down next to me, held me in his arms, and whispered, "I love you" in my ear. And we just laid there, with our four hands caressing my stomach.

I was already in active labor, but the doctor had given me drugs to speed things along. And when the pain had reached "unbearable," I requested for an epidural. On Sunday, 4/5/09, at 2:45 AM, Joshua Marco Pasion Asuncion was born into the world after 12 hours of labor. I had finally met my first born son, and he looked like a sleeping angel. He had a sweet smell, soft skin, and beautiful brown hair. He had ten fingers and ten toes. He weighed 4 pounds, 3.5 ounces and measured 17 and 3/4 inches long. He was the epitome of perfection. Simply too perfect for this painful world.

---------------------------------------------

Recovering from the labor, several nurses and doctors came in and out of my room discussing what had happened to my son. A few of them even told me that they believe the doctor from Thursday night should have performed an emergency c-section when the baby's heart rate had reached 215BPM. That in itself, is a major indication of the baby's distress. One doctor said, "I'm ashamed to say so, but that doctor really made our whole hospital look bad. And if I were you, I would seriously take this into legal matters."

Still horribly grieving, I felt that there was no need in doing so. After all is said and done, nothing will bring him back. Nothing.

Everyday Every minute I was awake, I thought of everything I went through that week. I felt like God gave me so many warnings, I felt that God really wanted us to save this baby. And if that doctor had not discharged me and did perform an emergency c-section... my son really would have had a fighting chance to live. After weeks of heavy consideration, my husband and I finally made the choice to take this into legal matters. With the sacrifice of our son, other parents do not have to go through the pain we have and always will go through.

This blog is not to discuss what we are currently going through with our case. Instead, it's a place I can go to when I have a lot going on, and can only express myself through writing. And aside from grieving the loss of our sweet Joshua, this blog will also celebrate the beautiful short time I had with him, and the journey of life my family and I go through each day.