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Part 2: After Olivia

After Olivia was born, and Joe and I had a little bit of sleep, we began discussing middle names. I was pretty set on Ruth. I love the story of Ruth in the Bible, and when I was an infant my dad mentioned Ruth in my baby blessing. She's a woman that I really admire. However, Joe mentioned that he'd been reading in Isaiah and the word "joy" had jumped out at him. "What do you think about Olivia Joy?" he asked. "Hmm," I said, "I'll need a little bit to think about it." And we left it at that.

My parents came to visit us at the hospital around 11:00 a.m. as I was nursing Olivia for the third time. She was concealed beneath my nursing cover, so they patiently waited to see grand-baby number 9. When Olivia had finished and I handed her to my mom, my heart felt so full seeing the look of pure love in my mother's eyes. There was something incredible about seeing the woman who taught me pure love, love my baby.

A few moments later, I felt sick to my stomach and light-headed and it came on fast. Like a three-year-old, all I could say was, "I don't feel so good." My mom said, "Jenn, are you okay? You are really pale." I didn't feel okay. We reclined the bed back so I could lay down and a monitor in the room started beeping. My blood pressure had dropped significantly. Some nurses came in the room and told me they were going to push on my stomach. As they pushed, the nausea I felt turned to instant pain that continued to increase in intensity. Someone said, "Go get Michelle." (my midwife) Then I remember hearing Michelle say, "She's probably got some clots." As they kneaded and pushed my stomach, it felt like they were rearranging my organs. At one point I think I even pushed away the hand of one of the nurses. "I just need a break, just for a second," I told them. Joe came by the side of my bed and put his hand on my shoulder, something he did during labor to help anchor me. I grabbed his hand and he told me to squeeze it if I needed to; as they continued to push, I needed to.

I'm not sure how long they kneaded my stomach, but eventually they seemed satisfied when I heard one of them say, "There it is. We got a piece of membrane out." As they stopped, I felt utter exhaustion, but relief that the pushing had ended. My blood pressure looked stable so they told me to rest and they'd be back to check on me in a little bit. They'd wheeled in a cheeseburger for lunch a little earlier, so with some encouragement from my mom, I ate about half of that to keep my energy up.

Not long after, an ultrasound tech wheeled in with a large monitor and told me she was going to check to make sure I didn't have any more major clots or parts of the placenta still in my uterus. She seemed to be taking her sweet time doing this ultrasound; after all, there wasn't a baby in there any more, how long should it take to make sure everything was normal? From my vantage point, I couldn't see the monitor, but my mom was standing behind the tech looking concerned. As she moved the wand around my abdomen she kept coming back over to the right side and scowling. She left telling me I'd know the results in a couple hours. It was fine by me. I was exhausted.

My parents stayed with us a little longer and when it looked like we were in the clear, they handed Olivia to Joe, they told me they loved me, but that they thought they should go so I could rest. We told them we'd call them when we knew the results from the ultrasound.

At this point, it'd been long enough since Olivia had eaten that it was time for her to nurse again. I decided to nurse her quickly and then succumb to the sleep that my body was demanding. As I nursed Olivia for the 4th time, the nausea quickly returned and I was worried I was going to pass out. I asked Joe to take the baby, reclined the bed back, and the monitor began beeping again because my blood pressure had taken another nose dive. As the nurses came rushing back in I remember thinking, "Please, not again." Once again, they began pushing on my stomach, trying to push out blood and any clots that may have been inside me. The pain was almost blinding. I was so grateful when Joe came over and grabbed my hand again, because him holding me was the only thing that kept me from screaming. Fortunately, they didn't push as long this time, because there just wasn't anything coming out of me.

Minutes later, it was decided that I needed a CT Scan to see what the problem was. As they wheeled me out of the room, a nurse asked if I was okay with them supplementing my baby (feeding her formula). Every other time I've been asked that question, the answer was "no," but as they wheeled me away from my husband and infant, the "yes, please," that was so natural surprised even me. I was worried about her. I was worried she hadn't eaten enough, and quite frankly, a little annoyed that my body wasn't cooperating.

As they wheeled me down to the CT Scan, my body began shaking. I felt ice cold. One of the nurses grabbed me several warm blankets, but after piling about three of them on me, my body just wouldn't stop shaking. They transferred me on to a board by having me roll on to my side, and the pain was intense with all the bumping and jostling. They asked me to raise my hands above my head and follow the breathing prompts that I would hear in the tube. By this time, not only was my body shaking uncontrollably, but everything hurt. I couldn't even hold my breath as long as the prompts were telling me to because of the pain piercing every part of my abdomen. I was just grateful and relieved when it was all over.

When I was back in my bed, for a brief moment, I thought maybe I'd get to go back to my room to see Joe and Olivia, but that didn't happen. I heard, "Start prepping her for surgery," and I'm not really even sure that my brain was able to register what was happening. One of the nurses put a nasal cannula in my nose, explaining that it should help me breathe a little easier. I realized I'd been panting. I met my doctor and anesthesiologist who were asking me what I'd eaten and if I was wearing contacts. After they took my contacts, I was asked to sign consent forms, but my body was shaking so badly and I couldn't see much, so I'm sure the signatures didn't even look like mine. Then suddenly, they were transferring me on to the operating table and putting a large mask over my face while someone was pressing on my throat. The doctor's face came in to view. She said my name and asked if I could hear her. I nodded. "You may wake up without your uterus," she said. And then, time stopped.

Part 3: Waking Up

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