The night of Feb. 2, 2018 I wasn't feeling very well and finally tried to go to sleep around midnight. I had done my kick counting earlier that evening around 6 as usual and my little girl was kicking just fine. I woke up (I believe Jesus woke me up to start the process) around 3:15 a.m. Feb. 3, 2018. I felt nauseous, dizzy, blah, and like I couldn't get enough water, so I drank around 80 ounces of water and 20 ounces of orange juice. I made bacon and strawberries to wake little miss up so I could count her kicks because she wasn't moving much.
I was doing all of this from 3:15 to about 5:15 a.m. and all I got was a slight flutter twice in those two hours. I debated driving the hour to the hospital I was originally supposed to deliver at, but I also thought “I can go get checked out later in the morning, I need to clean my house first.” Well in those thoughts I prayed and God told me to just go.
I drove myself to the ER here in town. When I arrived I said I think I have the flu and its affecting my baby. Well, they took me straight to labor and delivery. I explained everything to the three nurses who directly helped and they were shocked that I knew Count the Kicks and I actually was doing them. They couldn't find my daughter’s heart beat on the belt thing, they were having me drink more water, but they knew I had already done so.
Finally around 7:30 a.m. they called in an on-call ultrasound tech. That is when I knew something was wrong. That lady’s face said it all. I tried everything I could to see her screen and for her to tell me what she saw, but she technically can't. It has to be the doctor. In the meantime the on call doctor was also on her way in. She arrived, walked in my room and they discussed that my daughter had hardly any amniotic fluid, her heart rate was 73 and declining, there was no movement and she was still breech.
The doctor told me I was going to be getting an epidural and the tech was already trying to get an IV going, but my body was shutting down and no veins were able to get going. The doctor walks out and comes back within 2 minutes for another update. At this point my daughter’s heart rate was 68. Another doctor showed up and they said “This is real scary and we know your plan wasn’t to deliver here, but right now we need you to trust us with you and your daughter’s life. You’re not getting an epidural, you’re getting an IV and going completely under.”
I bawled, and they said “you have time for one call.” I made three. The first person did not answer, my mom lost signal, and the third was fast. The three nurses from the start asked the doctors if they could stay with me. They literally undressed me so fast and I had a hospital gown on me. My mom called back and they told her I couldn’t wait, that she should try to arrive as soon as she can (my mom lives two hours from me). Finally the IV is in and they rushed me to their smaller emergency operating room.
At this point my vitals were crazy, I had a panic attack, my daughter’s heart rate was now 60 and it took two rounds of anesthesia to knock me out. In that moment I prayed and said “God please save her.” During the emergency Cesarean section they discovered the cord was around her neck four times. After getting her out, they said that my placenta was failing. My daughter lived, but was in the nursery/NICU for a few days.
The doctors each day said it was a miracle to see us both alive and we both had a long recovery. They were also thankful I knew of Count the Kicks and did them every day, and that, they wish more moms did. They both said if I would've drove an hour to where I was to deliver or cleaned my house it would have been too late. Jesus and Count the Kicks saved my little girl’s life. -Deanna C., Nevaeh's mom