My parents had arrived as I was leaving recovery and my husband was taking them to try to see the babies as I was being settled in my room. Once they got back to my room, I burst into tears and told them that the nurse said I wouldn’t be able to see the babies for at least 8 hours and I was very upset about it. Either my husband or my mom went to the nursing station and must have said something to my nurse and the nursing staff, because once they knew our situation they were all a lot nicer to me.
We went through the whole ordeal with my parents multiple times. We were waiting for the team from Sickkids to arrive to take Julian to Sickkids hospital. My husband went back and forth between the babies and me while we waited. We were updated on Julian’s condition, he was alive but his blood pressure was still unable to remain stable, even after the special team from Sickkids arrived. They decided to move him to Sickkids despite still not having him in stable condition. They began prepping him for transport. As promised, they wheeled him to my room before he was taken downtown. He already looked less like the baby I had seen just a few hours before. When I first saw him he was alert and looking around, we made eye contact a few times and he was responsive to noise and my voice. The tiny baby they wheeled into my room looked even smaller, puffier, and absolutely covered in wires and monitors. I was in terrible pain from my c-section, but forced myself to sit up and lean over to touch Julian’s face and tell him I loved him. I once again said my goodbyes to my little boy. I was stuck in the hospital, I had just had a c-section, I had another baby in the NICU in the hospital I was in and I felt torn between my situation and my two babies. My husband was going to stay with me and Jean-Luc for the time being. The Sickkids team told us we would be updated on Julian’s condition when they arrived at the hospital and then we could call as frequently as we wanted to be updated by his nurse. I said my good-bye to Julian and told the paramedics to drive safely with my baby.
Julian leaving for Sickkids.
When I think back on everything, all I can feel is devastation. Our dreams and hopes for our two boys were crumbling before our eyes. We both knew deep down that Julian’s situation was bleak, 8 minutes flat line is not a good thing. We were clinging to the hope that we would receive a miracle. We hoped that while he was flat line for the 8 minutes he was still receiving oxygen while they were trying to resuscitate him, and hoped that he had not been without oxygen too long before he was born. When we first saw him he was looking at us and acting responsive – we just really hoped his brain was going to be ok. Because we both knew his survival depended on that as the main factor.
When he arrived at Sickkids we received positive news that while on transit to their hospital they were able to get his blood pressure up and keep it relatively stable. This was amazing news for us and our little guy. A few hours later we were able to talk to the head specialist on Julian’s case. She reported that by no means was he anywhere out of the woods, but things did look better. His blood pressure was up, he was breathing better than expected, and although still ventilated, he was breathing above the vent settings. She explained to us that cases, specific to Julians, need more time to determine the full extent of damage done. When a newborn loses oxygen at birth or prior to birth, they have a diving reflex. They protect their most vital organ, the brain, by directing all remaining oxygen and blood flow to that organ. If the brain is protected, brain damage can be avoided or if minimal brain damage occurs, often a newborn’s brain is able to compensate and find new ways to function. Our hope was that Julian’s brain had been protected. His other organs if damaged could heal with time and help, but if his brain had been compromised things would rapidly start to go downhill. At his admittance to Sickkids, his brain functions seemed ok. He was not experiencing any seizures and we still had hope, but only time would tell so we just had to wait it out. We decided my husband would go to Sickkids hospital to see Julian that evening. We were both very upset that he was alone there. So as soon as we could sort things out where we were, he was going to go downtown to be with our other little guy.
Sometime during the day (it may have been in the morning) we were told that Julian had suffered a full placental abruption. Another blog I follow has a good description of placental abruption so I’ll post the link here: http://brodysfrogblog.blogspot.ca/p/placental-abruption.html . I suffered a class 3 separation. (I am sure I will write about this again, there are so many things about the placental abruption that infuriate me, haunt me and make me question “why?”) Essentially, Julian bled out. By the time he was born he had lost more than 50% of his blood. As Julian’s tiny body continued to lose blood, inevitably his body no longer had enough blood circulating in his system to carry fresh nutrients to his cells and organs. His body began to shut down because his organs were starved of oxygen, and because there was no blood supply to carry away toxins that built up, his organs suffered further damage. Although he was alive, we were waiting still waiting to see the extent of damage done to his little body.
My parents brought our daughter to the hospital to see me in the evening on January 12th. Throughout my pregnancy, although not yet 2 years old, she seemed to understand there were two babies growing inside of me. She would correct people when they asked about the baby in mommy’s belly and say “babies, there are 2 babies”. But when she arrived at the hospital I didn’t know what to tell her, would she remember or even understand? We decided to just take her in to see Jean-Luc in the NICU, and wait to tell her about Julian. It seemed as if she forgot there were 2 babies when she laid eyes on her little brother, so we left it at that for the moment. It was sad that I was unable to be with her when she saw her brother for the first time. I was still in my hospital room and hadn’t even seen him since the morning myself. The whole situation was not at all how I envisioned introducing my boys to my daughter.
Our daughter meeting Jean-Luc.
By the time my husband was able to get downtown to Julian, it was close to midnight. He was getting very upset that he couldn’t be there with Julian and was torn about leaving us, but he finally got to Sickkids to be with our other little boy. He spent time with him, touched him and talked to him. He took pictures to bring back to me and told our little guy to hold on and be strong. He also got an update on Julian’s condition. I recently found a note in my husband’s bedside table of the health update he brought back to me.
The note reads:
Glucose – down but better, may be due to liver, upped glucose
EEG – normal, no seizures, slightly depressed
Brain Monitoring – a few slight blips, may be nothing, given an anticonvulsant just in case
Heart – Normal, just weak (may be due to chest compressions), on an epi drip not close to max dose just to keep blood pressure up
Blood Pressure – Normal range
MRI – maybe tomorrow
Intubated – Likely unnecessary but comfortable so keeping it in for MRI, out in 48 hours
Other notes – pooping up a storm, very active and responsive, breast milk as early as Saturday, kidneys ok so far
My husband visiting Julian at Sickkids.
This information was very positive and I was able to get some sleep that night. I knew he wasn’t out of the woods, but we both thought things were improving and we were hopeful.
Meeting my little Julian and saying good-bye to follow.
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