Callahan’s Birth Story: Three Perspectives

by summers.kayleigh | Jul 19, 2020 | Baby Cal, birth story

During my initial collapse on the 17th, everyone has their individual perspectives because they were all in different places. The timing of my AFE made it so that people were preparing to meet the baby, so they were already at the hospital or on their way there. The following are the perspectives of my husband, my parents, and my best friend. These memories are so important to me because I wasn’t there to have any for myself.

Steve

Steve and I had just decided that we were going to ask my mom to be in the room during the birth. Steve was so incredibly anxious that he admits (now) that he didn’t even want to be in the room with me. He thought it would be helpful to have another support person there for me, since he was struggling too. She happily accepted and went to tell my dad. My OBGYN checked me and let me know I was 10cm and that we we’re going to have a baby today. She left the room and moments later I said I wasn’t feeling right. The nurse handed Steve a puke bag to hold for me because she said sometimes people throw up. While he was holding the puke bag, I started yelling my heart didn’t feel right. Because nothing registered on the machine, Steve was assuming it was just my anxiety. But when my eyes rolled to the back of my head and I slumped over he knew something very bad was happening. When he wasn’t able to wake me up, he sprinted to the hallway to yell for a doctor. The nurse hit the code blue alarm and people came streaming into the room pushing Steve to the back corner. He just remembers pure chaos. He heard someone yell do we have a pulse, but doesn’t remember the reply. Then someone said we’re going to OR 1, but someone replied no OR 1 is booked, head to OR 2. They proceeded to rip lines and cords out of the wall and unlock my bed. The room emptied just as quickly as it had filled. At this point, Steve was still in shock and just stared at the door. Soon after, 2 nurses came in to reassure him that they were going to do everything they could to try to save my life. My mom arrived at the room just before the social worker and chaplain arrived. She was frantically asking Steve what happened. He told her he had no idea but described my collapse. My dad and Steve’s mom eventually got back to the room. Steve couldn’t stop replaying the scene in his head trying to make sense of pieces that didn’t fit together. What had just happened? Is my wife dying? He started to think about what life was going to be like as a single father. How was he going to afford to raise a kid on his own?

The OBGYN came into the room and said the baby was out and fine but that I wouldn’t stop bleeding, they were trying to stop it. She rushed back to the OR. My family was told told they were not allowed to leave the room (we found out later no one on the L&D floor was allowed out of their rooms, so they could keep the hallways clear for me). Steve remembers hearing people running up and down the halls and urgent muffled voices behind closed doors. The chaplain and social worker came back into the room and asked for Steve to come with them. They took him down the hallway to a tiny room. There was one chair in the middle of the room. Steve sat down with the chaplain and social worker on either side of him. Steve was preparing himself for them to tell him I was dead. My OBGYN came in and Steve remembers her being covered in blood, but isn’t sure if that was actually the case or he imagined it. The doctor told Steve I suffered an Amniotic Fluid Embolism. He doesn’t remember any of the conversation after that.

The doctor returned to let them know it was extremely critical and that they needed to pray. Steve remembers thinking “just go save her, go save my wife.”

My Parents

My parents came to the hospital on Wednesday morning to prepare to see their first grandchild born. Steve and I were exhausted and becoming increasingly anxious about how we were going to get through this. We had planned to just have the two of us in the room during the birth, but Steve changed his mind that morning. We decided we needed another support person so we asked my mom to stay for the birth. She left the room when I was getting checked to tell my dad that she was going to stay for the birth. As she was about the leave the waiting room to come back to walk back to my room, they both heard “Rapid Response Room 230.” They knew it was my room and my mom began to panic, but my dad said it could be anything don’t worry yet. At the same time my dad thought he heard Steve’s voice yell down the hall for a doctor, but my mom was sure it wasn’t Steve. Then, “Code Blue, Room 230” rang over the loud speaker and chaos ensued. My mom tried to step out into the hallway to get to my room just as a herd of medical personnel ran by, but they wouldn’t let her back. She told them “you don’t understand that’s my baby girl.” What felt like an eternity later, they let my mom back into my room where Steve was saying over and over again, “please just save my wife, please just save my wife.” My dad stayed in the waiting room because he knew my brother and sister-in-law were about to arrive. My mom asked Steve what happened, but at this point he still didn’t know. Eventually my dad came back to the room. Followed by my brother and sister-in-law. When the doctor gave the second update that I was extremely critical and they needed to pray, the room lost it. Everyone was crying. They were sure this was it. This was going to be the day they lost me.

Jessi

Jessi wrote me her perception of events a while ago, so I’ve included an excerpt of her own words here.

“That Wednesday morning, Steve called me while I was in the gym. It was almost time he said. Your body had recognized that it was going into labor and your cervix continued to dilate on its own overnight. You were at 8 centimeters and would be pushing in the next couple of hours. “I think she’d like you to come,” Steve said. “She’ll want to know you’re close by.” I called Michael and told him I was going to the hospital to see you and the baby. I gave him the option of coming or waiting for us to go together the next day after Callahan would have already been there. “I’ll drive you,” he said, – thank God, looking back now.

We arrived to the hospital and pulled into the parking garage – right before 1 o’clock. I remember laughing and smiling together, excited to see you and Cal. We made our way through the hospital and up to maternity. Turning into the maternity waiting room, my brain took three beats to recognize your dad, slumped forward in his chair, and a woman I didn’t recognize sitting in the chair beside him. He saw me and immediately his face crumpled. “It’s not okay, it’s not okay,” he said. He stood and hugged me hard, as I tried to piece together what was happening. “Kayleigh and the baby, we don’t know, we don’t know.”

We sat there. Michael on my left, holding my hand or rubbing my arm, me putting my hand on your dad’s back ever so often. Eventually, someone came to take your dad back to be with your mom, i think the chaplain, maybe. She told us that the baby was out and okay, but you were not. Kyle and Simone arrived not long after, much like we had, with smiles on their faces, food and coffee that would sit on the table and eventually be thrown out hours later. “The baby is okay, but we don’t know about Kayleigh yet,” is all I could clumsily tell them. Kyle fell into a waiting room chair, I remember his hair falling over across his face, head in hands, as he rocked back and forth.

At 2:03, you’d been diagnosed, but things still looked okay. Kyle and Simone got taken back to be with your mom and dad and Michael and I stayed in the waiting room. It was so difficult to sit there, not knowing what was happening, and every text from Simone was a godsend. My mom offered to come and I told her she didn’t need to, but when I got the notification on my phone that their garage door had opened, I knew that she was on her way anyway. Within 20 minutes, you were hemmoraghing and the doctors couldn’t stop your body from bleeding. I sat facing out of the waiting room, right outside the double doors, watching people in OR scrubs, running back and forth. “Please pray,” Simone’s text read. I continued to watch them run in an out of those double doors, running to save your life. “Run faster, run faster,” I desperately willed them, finally realizing that you might not live. But what will I do I remember thinking. Who will I talk to who understands what I’m saying. How could my world exist without her in it. Steve and Cal might not have her. My mom got there at some point and she and Michael held me up from both sides, reminding me how strong you were. We prayed at some point, just as we had done with Kyle and Simone earlier. The four of us had held hands and said the our father before they were taken back. I bargained with Nan, trying my best to convince her that she was not allowed to let you into heaven that day. Cal needs her, Steve needs her, I need her, I begged.

For an hour and forty minutes I didn’t know that you were going to live. People came in and out of the waiting room. Some tried to talk to us. I vaguely remember a set of grandparents and a newborn’s older sister coming to visit her new baby sibling. Can’t you see I don’t want to talk to you, I remember thinking. People would come up to the doors to go inside and look in, startled to see tears and sadness. Keep walking, don’t look at me I thought. A doctor came in with her white coat on and asked if we were there for you. “It doesn’t look good,” she said, then asking if we were family. “I’m her best friend,” I told her. “Unfortunately I can’t tell you anything,” she said, with a pitying look on her face. “It’s touch and go,” she finally admitted. “How much touch and how much go?”, my mom pressed, looking at my face. She grimaced and with an uncomfortable shrug said, “I mean, there’s a very small chance she could make it.”

Finally, around four o’clock there was news that the bleeding was slowing.

I wrote you this in a note…

‘ Kayleigh, If you don’t pull it together I’m going to be so so angry at you. Do you know how terrible it is to sit in a hospital all day thinking JUST DO YOUR JOB AND FIX HER. Also, I’m mad that of course you were right about the bleeding.’ “

Jessi, keeping me calm to breathe over the vent.

Read Part 5

Callahan’s Birth Story: Part 4

by summers.kayleigh | Jul 18, 2020 | birth story

Callahan's Birth Story

Callahan’s Birth Story: Part 4

July 17th

Around 3pm they took me from the OR to Interventional Radiology where they attempted to embolize my uterine arteries in hopes of slowing the blood loss from my uterus. As they were taking me to IR they noticed my abdomen had become significantly distended and decided they would have to take me to the OR after and open me up for an exploratory laparotomy. The bleeding had started to slow after this procedure, but not enough.

Meanwhile, my family was brought to a conference room so that they could be closer to where I was in the OR. When they got there (around 4pm), a few people urged Steve to go see the baby but he didn’t want to leave the location where he could be closest to me. Eventually, he agreed that he needed to be the first one to hold our son, so he went up to see Callahan with his mom and my mom. The pictures from their first time meeting bring up so many emotions for the me. They are heart wrenching. My OBGYN again came to update them. She asked for my husband to sign for the Ex Lap and possible hysterectomy. At that point, he didn’t care what they had to do, as long as they saved me. He signed the paperwork.

Around 6pm that night they took me in for the exploratory laparotomy. When they opened me up they found 4 liters of blood in my abdomen. They decided that they needed to do a hysterectomy because there was still too much bleeding. They removed my uterus and one of my ovaries/fallopian tubes. They packed my entire pelvic cavity with surgical sponges and quick clot combat gauze to help with bleeding. They then left my abdomen open with a wound vac in place because they knew they would need to go back in several times to clear clotting and possibly restitch some areas.

They updated my family that they had to perform the hysterectomy but that they were able to save one of my ovaries so that I would not go into early menopause.

Around 8pm one of my trauma surgeons spoke to my family. He explained what happened during the surgery and the way he had to pack my abdomen and leave it partially open. He told my family that he’d done 2 tours with the army and that this was the worst trauma he’d seen outside of war. He had to pack me like a war victim. He told them I was begin transferred to Lankenau Medical Center so they could maintain the ECMO circuit. Paoli was a Trauma 2 hospital, which meant they had enough blood for me, but they weren’t equipped for ECMO. Lankenau is a Trauma 1 facility. Thankfully the 2 hospitals are still in the same hospital system, so transfer of care was seamless.

They told my family they could see me before I was transferred to Lankenau. The doctors warned them that I would not look like myself. I was even larger and more swollen than when I was pregnant due to quantities of fluid and blood product. After waiting for about an hour while the 20 or so medical professionals readied me to travel, my family saw me for the first time since I had collapsed. It was difficult to see my face because of all the tubes coming from my nose and mouth. Steve was the first one to see me. He walked right up to the gurney, which was surrounded by about 20 nurses and doctors. Steve told me what a good job I had done keeping Cal safe. He let me know how big he was and that he was doing so well up in the NICU. My family told me there wasn’t a dry eye around that gurney when Steve was telling me about Cal. The rest of my family told me how much they loved me and to keep fighting. I was off on the ambulance to be transferred and my family rushed around to complete all of the tasks they has divvied up while waiting to see me. Steve, his sister, my mom, and my brother would follow the ambulance straight to the hospital. My dad would stay with Callahan (he couldn’t be transferred with me yet). Simone would go to Target to get clothes/toiletries for Steve. Steve’s mom would go home to take care of the dogs and Jessi would take my car home until she came to Lankenau the next day.

My husband meeting our son for the first time, while they were doing everything to save my life.

Read Three Perspectives

Callahan’s Birth Story: Part 3

by summers.kayleigh | Jul 17, 2020 | birth story

Callahan's Birth Story

Callahan’s Birth Story: Part 3

July 17th

By the next morning, I was at 7cm and by 11am I was at 9cm. The only issue was that Callahan was facing sunny side up which is a more difficult position to deliver, so they were attempting to get him to turn. At around 12:30 my OBGYN came in to check me and let me know I was 10 centimeters “ready to push!” I was definitely nervous about not having enough energy to push after laboring for so long and barely sleeping, but I was so excited to meet my little boy. The doctor left the room and said she would be back shortly to deliver my baby.

My bed was completely upright, so I was leaning against the back with my legs out straight. I told the nurse I wasn’t feeling well, which she said was normal during this stage of labor. As she went to go get me a bag I continued to say I didn’t feel well, but there was growing concern in my voice. I then started to say that something was wrong with my heart. The monitors weren’t registering anything, but I started shouting that something was wrong with my heart. The monitors picked it up, started to alert and then I was out. I slumped over in my bed with my eyes open but nothing behind them. My husband started yelling in my face to get me to wake up and then he ran into the hallway shouting for a doctor. At the same time, my nurse hit the code blue alarm, an alarm that very rarely gets pushed in L&D. People came flooding into the room, pushing Steve into the corner. By sheer luck there happened to be conference full of critical care personnel on the L&D floor that day. The quick (and life-saving!) decision was made to take me right to the OR. I was hurriedly disconnecting from every wire and IV as they wheeled me down the hall, leaving Steve back in the room. Steve was left to wait in my room alone until two nurses came to sit with him. There were nurses and techs in the hallway pointing the way to my OR so that the necessary people could get there as quickly as possible.

Once in the OR, CPR was initiated and they began an emergency c-section. The baby was out within 6 minutes of my code, which saved his life. It was a miracle that he came out crying and was somehow unaffected by my collapse. Once the baby was out, the attention turned towards me. I was dying. They successfully resuscitated me after the c-section, but I coded again a few minutes later. After the second resuscitation, I began to bleed and A LOT. I went into what is called DIC, which is when your blood no longer clots. They inserted a balloon into my uterus to try to stem the bleeding from that location.

The OBGYN came to update my family. She told them the baby was out and he was completely healthy, even though I had coded while he was still inside. She explained that I, unfortunately, was not okay, I had suffered an Amniotic Fluid Embolism. She said they were giving me clotting fluids for the DIC and that I was in critical condition, but she was hopeful they could stabilize me.

Twenty minutes later things took a turn for the worst. The OBGYN updated that it was extremely critical because they could no longer stop the bleeding and asked my family to please pray. I was bleeding from everywhere and there was no way to stop it. Massive transfusion protocol had been initiated, but the blood was pouring out as fast as it was going in (I ended up with a total of 143 units of blood product transfused by the end of this ordeal). More than 5 Liters of blood were collected through the catheter attached to the balloon that was attempting to stop the bleeding from my uterus. I was also struggling with oxygenation because my heart and lungs weren’t working at full capacity. The decision was made to put me on ECMO (a form of life support).

The first picture taken of Cal about an hour after he was born. His wonderful nurses took it and sent it to us!

Read Part 4

Callahan’s Birth Story: Part 2

by summers.kayleigh | Jul 16, 2020 | birth story

Callahan's Birth Story

Callahan’s Birth Story: Part 2

Fast forward to my 39th week of pregnancy. It was July. I was gigantic, hot, and impatient. I wanted to meet my baby and I no longer wanted to be pregnant. I had a prenatal appointment on the 11th and I would be full term on the 13th. I was barely effaced and not dilated at all. I was so defeated. They wanted to see me back in the office on Monday. After a weekend of working on puzzles and eating gummy bears, I headed to my appointment on Monday morning. I was so incredibly anxious because I just wanted to have this baby already. Steve recalls me bouncing my leg so vigorously in the waiting room that he asked me what was wrong. When I was brought back, they took my blood pressure and, unsurprisingly, it was high (my blood pressure tends to fluctuate with my level of anxiety). When I told the doctor this, she said she would wait until the end of my appointment and take it again. It was elevated again. The protocol for 2 elevated blood pressures this late in pregnancy is to send me to the hospital. I started crying, the last thing I wanted was to be induced, and that’s where it looked like this was headed. My blood pressure did even out in the hospital, but we decided to go ahead with the induction since I was already there and past due with no signs of progress and a seemingly large baby.

July 15th

The induction process began with Cervadil, which needed to stay in for 12 hours (so overnight). At this point I was still pretty anxious about the delivery. Throughout my entire pregnancy I was terrified of hemorrhaging and dying. Everyone reassured me that hemorrhaging was rare and I was definitely not going to die. I remember counting all the women I knew who went in and had “normal” births and were back home with their baby within a day or two. This rationalization barely touched my anxiety, but I tried my best to put it to the back of my mind. I was so obsessed with my fear of hemorrhaging that I even wrote about it in the pregnancy journal during my second trimester (so creepy to see now!). My mom came to visit me in the hospital that night to give Steve a quick break to grab some food. When he came back we all played cards together, with me pausing each time a contraction came. My brother actually still has the napkin we kept score on! I barely slept that night because of the contractions and the constant vital checking.

July 16th

The next morning I was 70% effaced but still not dilated. At this point, I hadn’t eaten solid food since before I was admitted to the hospital. There was a bit of confusion about when the Pitocin was started and so they told me I wasn’t able to eat. Then we discovered I hadn’t actually been on Pitocin, so I could have been eating. I was apparently quite rageful about the lack of food. Thankfully, my doctor made sure I got a meal in before actually starting the Pitocin. That morning they inserted a Foley bulb balloon. I really regret not asking for an epidural prior to the Foley balloon. My contractions were now every 3 minutes, but I was okay tolerating the pain. Then, they started me on Pitocin and my contractions became more painful and only about a minute apart. I had difficulty tolerating these contractions because they were one on top of the other and I didn’t feel like I had a break at all. This lasted for a while and I was still only at 1 cm- talk about frustrated. I was so afraid of not progressing that I kept refusing the epidural and just trying to gut it out. Finally I had enough and asked for the epidural around 6pm that night. I was so relived when it began working. Later that evening, they pulled the Foley bulb balloon out and ruptured my membranes. I was anxious because I was growing increasingly exhausted and knew I still needed to push out a large baby as a first time mom. I was worried I wouldn’t have the energy to sustain hours of pushing.

This was one of the only pictures taken from my labor.

Read Part 3

Callahan’s Birth Story: Part 1

by summers.kayleigh | Jul 15, 2020 | birth story

Callahan's Birth Story

Callahan’s Birth Story: Part 1

Callahan’s birth story begins a few months after Steve and I were married. I always thought I wanted to wait a few years before trying to have children. Then we were married and I had baby fever. We started trying for a baby 5 months after our wedding. It was May and I got pregnant the first month we tried. I was so excited. It was the first week of June, the last week of the school year and I just found out I was pregnant. I downloaded all of the apps to see how my baby would grow over the next 9 months. I bought the “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” book. I was a little nervous because I felt like the line wasn’t super dark, but everywhere I read said a line means pregnant. Strength of lines on pregnancy tests do not relate to the viability of the pregnancy. I reminded myself of this anytime I was nervous. I called the doctor to schedule a blood draw to confirm the pregnancy. They drew blood a few days later and they called me to let me know I was pregnant but looked to be very early on in the pregnancy since my numbers were low. They suggested I return in 48 hours for another blood draw to confirm that the numbers were rising appropriately. I never made it to this appointment. I began to bleed the next day, and I kept bleeding for several days after. A week after I celebrated my pregnancy, I grieved the loss of it.

I read a lot about the high percentage of first pregnancies that end in early miscarriage or chemical pregnancy, as it’s often referred to. There are likely a lot of women who don’t realize they were even pregnant, if they aren’t obsessively testing like I was. I was sad about our loss but also excited for what the future could hold. I figured we would try again the next month and if we timed it right, we’d be pregnant again. Unfortunately, that was not the case. Over the next few months I became quite obsessive, especially during the “two week wait” periods. I would scour blogs and message boards trying to find symptoms that matched mine. Every little twinge or soreness I swore was something related to pregnancy. I was temping, I was tracking cycles, I was doing everything under the sun to try to get pregnant. June, July, and August all went by without any luck. I was beginning to feel like something was wrong with my cycles. My cycles were now irregular and something seemed off. I went to an OBGYN (a new one, since I had moved). She did some blood work and told me I wasn’t ovulating, so I would need to go to a fertility specialist. I remember getting into the car after that appointment and crying. I had gotten pregnant so easily that first month, and now I have fertility issues? It didn’t add up.

I went with Steve to our first fertility appointment. Overwhelmed is an understatement. They were great, but it was just so much information about all of the different things that could be wrong with us. To sum it up they said all of my numbers from the blood draw look great so they’re not sure why I wasn’t ovulating. However, before they put me on an ovulation drug they needed to rule out any other issues. This included a full blood panel the next time I got my period, testing for Steve, and a Hysterosalpingography (a test to see if my tubes were blocked). I had heard horror stories about the Hysterosalpingography and asked the doctor if it was actually necessary at this point, especially given that I had already been pregnant. He countered my argument by reminding me how infuriated I would be if we started the meds and nothing worked for months because the whole time I had a blockage. I agreed, but just felt like I knew by body well enough to know that wasn’t the issue. At this point Steve and I were so exhausted by the whole process that we decided to put trying to get pregnant on hold until after the testing came back. So, I waited to get my period because that’s when we could start the testing. I waited and waited, my cycles were super long at this point so I wasn’t surprised. But one morning I woke up and something in my brain told me to take a pregnancy test. I did and almost immediately 2 lines popped up. I was pregnant. I called the fertility clinic to let them know that I would not need my next appointment because I was pregnant. They told me they could actually follow my pregnancy for the first 9 weeks to perform some early blood tests and ultrasounds to make sure everything was on track. I excitedly accepted this plan. I went in for my first blood draw and found out that my hcg levels looked good. They wanted me to return in 48 hours to make sure they doubled. Later that day I started to bleed. I called Steve at work, crying telling him it was happening all over again. I continued to bleed a little the next day and then it abruptly stopped. There was a good amount of blood, but I thought maybe it could be the implantation bleeding I heard about through all my reading and research. My next blood test confirmed my numbers had more than doubled. It was implantation bleeding. Small note on this. No one ever mentioned that implantation bleeding can be more than spotting. Mine was a good amount of blood, definitely not my definition of “spotting,” but it did only last a day or two.

My first ultrasound was at 6 weeks and the doctor warned me that we likely wouldn’t be able to see/hear a heartbeat yet. They were just looking to see if the gestational sac was in the right place and was the right size. Thankfully it was and we were even able to see the heartbeat! I won’t bore you with a long description of my pregnancy, because for the most part it was pretty great. The only small hiccups were my low lying placenta (which moved out of the way), my positive CF carrier test, and my persistent feeling that the baby was HUGE. I tested positive as a CF carrier, so we then had to wait 2 weeks to get the results of my husband’s blood test back. It was the longest two weeks of my life, but thankfully it was negative. Once the 3rd trimester hit, I was SURE this baby was oversized, but at all of my appointments my clinicians assured me I was measuring right on track. As you can see by the picture, I was quite large, and this was a full month before I delivered. I credit staying active and my weekly chiropractor appointments with keeping me feeling great and super mobile even after gaining 70 pounds.