It started about a week before she was born. I was at work and I felt a wet gush and i figured it was just the crazy amounts of discharge that come along with being pregnant. But I went to the bathroom and I found a substantial amount of blood in my underwear and I started panicking. I had found some before and they told me to come in. So I called my husband from work trying not to panic. Asked him to come get me cuz I didn't feel ok emotionally to drive. Later I found out that he cried the whole way to pick me up but put a brave face on for me when I got in the car. I don't think he knows how much that helped me to remain calm.

We got to the emergency room and waited for what felt like forever then finally someone was able to see us. They took my blood pressure and it was dangerously high so they sent me up to labor and delivery right away. We got to our room and they came in to listen to Penelope (she was always impossible to find because she was constantly wiggling around! And still is to this day!) I was there for 3 days and honestly it's all kind of a blur of repeated events. They'd come check my vitals, struggle to get Penelope to sit still long enough to record her vitals, eat, sleep, and try not to panic. I also found out at this point that I had a placental abruption and that was likely the cause of my bleeding. And that it may or may not have any affect on when she was to be born. But they took necessary steps to get myself and Penelope as prepared as could be just in case the worst case scenario ended up happening. I got steroid shots and a magnesium drip. These were to help prepare Penelope's little lungs to be more ready if she were to have to come early. This was the first part of this journey that is burned in my brain. If you know me, you know that I am hot all the time and I hate being hot. The magnesium made my body feel like I was lit on fire from the inside. They gave me cold rags and perineal icepacks to put on my neck and head and ice chips to eat. It felt like it was boiling off my skin. Thankfully that didn't last too long and my bp started to get under control with the increases in the BP medication. By the end of that 3 day stay I was taking 1500 mg of a blood pressure medication per day when I had started on 150 mg per day. But it seemed to be working and overall I was feeling much better. Except this little weezing noise that I sometimes made when i was laying down. But my hospital bed was never fully flat the entire time I stayed there. Let's just say I was looking forward to sleeping in my own bed more than I can explain. We were finally discharged on June 30th and nate took me home and I took a much needed shower and went to take the nap that I had been dreaming about for days in my own bed.

I laid down for only about 10 mins when I started to hear that wheezing/crackling sound every time I was exhaling. And it was harder to breath when I was laying down. I thought that I was probably just having a panic attack or my anxiety was making me think of all the worsts that could happen so i tried to ignore it for a bit. But then it didn't go away. So of course I called my dad and my sister. I told them how I was feeling and that I was going to feel stupid if I went back to the er the exact same day i was discharged for something that was in my head. They both told me that I should go back in just to be safe. So again I called Nate at work and told him I needed to go back to the er. We got taking back up to labor and delivery where they ended up calling in the on call doctor. Even she asked me if it was possible that it was in my head...I told her that it was 100% possible. But I just know how I'm feeling. They did a chest xray to see if there was anything that could be causing the raspy breathing. As it turned out it showed them that my lungs were filling with fluid. My high blood pressure turned into severe pre-eclampsia so quickly that it caught us all off guard. That's when they told us that we were going to have to deliver her as soon as we could. At this point we had called a few family members. Nate's parents showed up before mine because they were on a vacation up north. They called my doctor in and she came into the room along with a half a dozen nurses and explained to me what was going to have to happen. That I was going to have to have an emergency c-section and because of my lungs filling up with fluid they were going to have to put me out and intubate me. I was shaking everywhere. I could see how concerned Nate's mother was and looking at Nate I could see that and fear in his eyes. I just kept a straight face and concentrated on my breathing because I knew if I started crying I wasn't going to stop and crying would only make it that much harder to breath. I can remember Nate helping me clean my whole body with these big wipes. One for each arm and one for each leg. I couldn't have asked for a better partner with me at that moment. He held it together so well as he helped me prepare my body for this scary thing that was happening. After he washed me up and I had my hospital gown on and the nurses shaved the spot that was going to be cut open my doctor asked if I had any questions. I obviously had one gut wrenching and terrifying question that I wanted to ask but was deathly afraid of the answer I would get. But I needed to know...."what are her chances?" I felt like I was going to be sick saying those words or loud. She told me that with the medicine I was able to get the previous 3 days her chances of being able to survive outside the womb increased dramatically. That was the first moment I was able to feel some hope in this situation.

The nurses in labor and delivery helped calm me down as well. When they asked if i needed anything i told them i could go for some dumb jokes or anything to make me laugh because of not wanting to cry. There was one nurse in particular, I think her name was Nicole, but she just kept randomly whipping out dumb dad jokes the whole time she was with me. Right up until I went into the operating room. Nate was able to stay by my side up until we went into the section of the hospital that had the OR in it. Not being able to hold his hand made it that much scarier for me. They pushed me through the halls and just before going in, Nicole gave me one more dumb dad joke for the road and then the doors opened.

This is the moment that I cannot forget. There were nurses and doctors everywhere, working in amazing rhythm with each other to get me ready for surgery. I moved from the rolling bed to a an operating table that looked like something from my nightmares. It had extentions for your arms and legs so that they could strap them down but they could still move them by moving the table if needed. So they strapped my arms down opened my hospital robe and my legs and inserted a catheter quicker than I can even say the word.

The part that sticks with me the most was them putting the oxygen mask on my face. When I think of an oxygen mask I think of a semiflexible, clear plastic face shaped cup. This was not what I got. The oxygen mask was more like a flimsy plastic sheet in the shape of a funnel connected to a hose. When I would breathe in the plastic would stick to the side of my face and feel like it was going into my mouth. When I'd exhale it would lift off my face and give me a moment of relief from the feeling that I was breathing into a bag wrapped over my mouth. The doctor kept telling me I was doing good and that there was oxygen coming into my mask but all I could feel was my hot breath. I started to panic and was able to wiggle my way out from under the mask a little and they let me keep it at a tilt while they continued to prep me for surgery. At this point I was laying completely flat on my back so I could feel the fluid in my lungs effecting my ability to breath. I just keep staring at the ceiling repeating to myself that I could do this... that I needed to do this for our little girl. I didn't know this at the time but they had then given me more magnesium. They didn't want to tell me because they knew it would just make me more panicked. The last thing that I remember before going under was that feeling like I was burning from the inside out and they put the mask back fully over my face and I felt like I was breathing from a plastic bag that was just in hot bath water. But i guess I was actually drowning slowly in the fluid that was filling up my lungs.

Despite not being aware of it, little Penelope came into this world on July 1st at 11:32 PM weighing only 1 lb 8 oz and and measuring only 12 inches.

The next thing I remember was dreaming something bizarre that felt like I was dizzy and I also kept pulling food or hair out of my throat. Turns out I was actually in the ICU trying to pull my oxygen tube out of my throat and pissing off the nurse that was watching me there. Eventually they just strapped my arms down. That is how I remember waking up. Unable to talk or move and all I wanted was to see my husband. I started to wiggle my hands to get anyones attention. It took them a minute to trust me enough to not to try to pull my tube out but I finally i was able to have one hand free. I had to try to figure out a way to tell my dad and my sister that I wanted Nate. Then I remembered the ASL letters that I had learned in 5th grade. After a few incorrect guesses they finally figured out that I was signing NATE over and over. My poor husband had been up worrying about me and Penelope for hours. Going back and forth from the NICU to the ICU trying to be there for both of us. It felt like forever but finally he was next to me holding my hand and I felt the first moment of relief. I wasn't able to go see Penelope yet because I was still intubated and needed to be discharged from the ICU before I was able to go up by her. But they we able to show me pictures and the live camera that was on her. And gave me some scent hearts to wear to be able to put by her so she could smell me. Eventually after somewhere around 7 liters of fluid were removed from my body and my lungs sounded clear i was able to be extubated. I thankfully had people with me all day but had to be alone over night. I had a wonderful nurse named George who got to know "me" more than I'm sure he ever wanted to lol. I'm so thankful for my labor and delivery nurses and my ICU nurses and my OB doctor for getting me safely through all that and also doing what was best for Penelope!

I didn't mean to wait so long to post this next part. We've had a busy couple days with Penelope's 1 year birthday party this past weekend. But as it turns out it's actually very fitting. Penelope was born July 1st and today 1 year ago was the first time I got to see and hold my sweet and so tiny baby girl. I wanted to see her and to be able to touch her so badly. Although seeing her through a livestream was amazing. I knew I wouldn't feel whole again until I could actually be by my baby's side. What I didn't know was the reality of just how small she really was. And how that would much that would terrify me.
Getting from my hospital bed to a wheel chair was awkward and painful and adding a catheter into the mix and being raspy from being intubated made it worse. But the thing that made it really hard for me was having to put a mask on. Masks were still required everywhere in the hospital and especially in the NICU. All I could think about was how I had just not been able to breathe and putting this paper mask over my mouth and nose where I could only breathe my own hot air put me right back into that operating room and back on that table with that "hot wet bag" over my face again. My heart was already racing from the nerves and how anxious I was to finally see my baby and this just made it worse. I remember repeating to myself like I had done 2 days earlier... you can do this... you have to do this for Penelope. It was a long ride to the NICU. There is a very strict regimen to prepare yourself to be safe for a premature baby. For the most part they let me forgo most of it, like standing at the sink to wash my hands for 2 minutes up to my elbows. They let me use a sanitizer wipe. It still felt like it took forever to get through that process. I just remember looking around at this little part of the hospital and seeing so many faces I didn't know and rolling by rooms with tons of beeps and alarms and the littlest cries you've ever heard... wondering if any of those were my baby's cry. We rolled by 1 room then stopped at the next. I wanted to get up and run to my baby but not only could i barely move, there were 5 spots for babies and I didn't know which one was mine. They pushed me to the back left corner and i kept trying to look into the covered isolette with the little blue lights on. But I was in a wheel chair and I could not see anything. Everyone around me just kept talking about how cute she was and how little she was and I just kept trying to see what they were. Eventually I told them that all I could see was her forehead and they finally moved the isolette down for me. She had a little eye mask on that looked like sunglasses to protect her from the lights and she was swaddled so perfect and like a little burrito (the same size even) and then I saw it.... she was intubated.... like me...I hated that because I knew how it felt and what that does to your throat. But I tried not to think of that. Here was my baby and she was alive and i was alive and we were finally together .

They let me be the first one to hold her. This was the first time I was able to grasp just how small and fragile she really was. They got me all set and then began the process of maneuvering tubes and wires things were beeping and alarming and I had no idea what was going on. It took 3 people to move my little 1.5 pound baby onto my chest. I didn't know what to do with my hands. It felt like if I put any pressure on her little body she would break. Had there not been tubes and wires hanging all over I would have barely noticed the change from when she wasn't to when she was on my chest. She was so tiny I barely felt her... but I could feel her warm body on mine and feel her breathing and feel her wiggling around (which was constantly! Just like it was in my belly). I just looked at her in my chest and looked at her tiny features... her hand didn't fit around a finger but yet each tiny finger had the most perfect little joints and the most beautiful perfect little fingernails. I didn't know fingernails could be so small. I held her and sat with her thanking God for all he had done and my husband for how amazing he was. We went back to the room and I was put back on monitoring for my blood sugars and blood pressure and making sure no more fluid filled my lungs. In still wasn't sleeping laying down because it would cause me to start coughing. I was coughing up stuff for days from being intubated. I remember at one point having a coughing fit in the NICU holding Penelope because I had laid back too far for too long and all I could think about was how every parent in that room was thinking that I was sick and I shouldn't be in there and afraid I'd get their baby sick. I even asked the nurses to inform other parents that I wasn't sick that I had been intubated...I don't know if they did or not. Nate and I would go visit Penelope at least once a day for a few hours at a time. Every time we left it felt like my heart was ripping out of my chest. And at that point we were still at the hospital and only a short walk away from her. Thinking about leaving her at the hospital and going home to sleep in my own bed didn't sound so appealing anymore. We stayed in the hospital for about a week before I was cleared to go home. At one point during that week I felt like i was having a hard time breathing and I thought it was all starting again and I pushed the emergency button in my room and the nurse came and looked me over and everything was fine. I had had a panic attack that made me feel like I just couldn't get in enough air. After I was able to calm down that feeling went away. I still get this feeling every now and again when my nose gets stuffy or I get winded or sometimes for no reason and I have to sit up straight or stand up. I feel that a little bit now writing about it.

I think I might end here tonight but the last thing that I want to say was how amazing it was to hold Penelope after writing about this. When I first held her, her whole body fit under my chin and her little butt would squeeze between my breasts and rest on my bra. As I held her tonight I looked down and where her entire body fit 1 year ago, her head was and those little hands felt so big wrapped around my fingers. And I whispered to her what I used to tell her every day in the NICU...."you are brave. You are strong. You are fearless. You are feisty. You are beautiful and you are so so smart and I love you so much and I'm so proud of you..." she smiled at me like she remembered it. It was beautiful