I asked Debbie if we could leave the kids (I am a mother of 8. The oldest 2 and my stepdaughter are married with children, the younger 5 are still at home). We left Mckenna (then 11), Esprit (then 7), and the twins, Bronson and Boston (then 2) with Debbie and her husband. We took Britt (then 15). I could see in his face he wanted to come. I didn't realize how bad my condition actually was. I assumed my c-section scar had ruptured and I needed to hurry to the hospital before it got too bad. I assumed it had ruptured on the inside and possibly the pressure caused my water to break. (Later, Debbie told me there was blood everywhere. It was mixed with membrane. A wierd substance, but lots of blood. She couldn't look at it. John (her husband) cleaned it up.)
I asked everyone at the party to gather around me and pray for me before we left. They did. Someone suggested calling 911. No way. I did not need to be held up waiting for an ambulance and then be taken to a place other than "my" hospital. We got in the car and took off. I was feeling weak, as before, yet I felt very coherent and in control. As we drove, I called Jeff (Marisa's husband) to tell him we would miss Marisa's party. We'd be at Women's Hospital having a baby. I told him I was bleeding a little. He questioned about cancelling the party. I told him not to. My thought was... after the party, they could all come see me since the party was in Tampa and my hospital was in Tampa. I began praying once I hung up - for myself, for my baby, for the safety of our drive.
Next, I called Lindsey to tell her my water broke, but I was gushing blood so there was concern, and that we were on our way to Tampa. She wasn't sure if she should go to work and I didn't know what to tell her. A few minutes passed and Lindsey called me back to ask if I'd felt the baby move. I didn't know; I couldn't recall. The last movement I really remembered was in the morning when I was just waking. He was a very active baby, constantly moving, but I couldn't remember feeling him move throughout the day. It hadn't crossed my mind to pay attention. At that moment I realized he could be in danger. She asked if I was sure I wanted to go to Tampa and I was adamant. I wanted my "own" doctors.
I told Lindsey to pray for me and then I began to call people from our church to ask for prayer- the Days, the Merinos, the Whealtons, the Wheeles- I was able to get ahold of no one. I recalled passing the church on our way to Debbie's and the parking lot had been full, so I tried to call the phone in the lobby, but I was unable to remember the phone number. It is very unusual for me to forget a phone number. My husband calls me the Rainman of numbers. I remember phone numbers, zip codes, addresses, etc. This particular day I could not remember the church number, nor could I remember the prayer chain phone number, nor countless other phone numbers. Either the phone number was lost in my memory, or the person was not at home. The only people I was successful in reaching that afternoon were my adult children.
I could feel I was getting weaker. We were on the parkway heading for Tampa, when I began to get light-headed. Ed wondered if we should go to Spring Hill Regional as we neared County Line Rd. I said "no." I needed "my" doctor, but I could barely keep my eyes open. We passed Conty Line Rd and went through the toll booth. I was struggling to stay awake. I told Ed I felt like I wanted to sleep. He told me to stay awake and began slapping my leg and shaking me and calling my name. My head started bobbing. I was having such a hard time keeping my eyes open. Immediately, Britt's hand was on the top of my head, and I know he never ceasead to pray for me that whole drive. I recall saying, "maybe we should turn around." That was all Ed needed.
My memory is scattered during the rest of that ride. I can remember Ed shaking me and saying my name. I remember Britt's hand on my head. At one point, I asked how far we were from County Line Rd. 2 miles. I could hold on til then, I told myself. That 2 miles felt like forever. Every moment I was awake I was praying for my unborn son.
We were confused trying to get to the Maternity Ward. The sign said Special Delivery and Emergency Room. Ed thought the Special Delivery was for UPS, FedEx, etc, so he drove to the ER. (Special Delivery really meant the Stork, maternity.) He ran in and explained the situation, but they thought he was a frantic father, so they gave him directions back to Special Delivery. His head was swimming. He was about to lose it when a young man from our chruch who had been in the waiting room of the Er told him he would ride with him and show him the way to the maternity ward. Britt's hand was on my head and he continuously prayed for me until we arrived at the maternity ward and I was ushered to a room.
It didn't take long for the nurses to realize I was losing a lot of blood. I was coherent now upon arrival and was able to explain all that had taken place. I was so concerned for my baby. I told them I needed a c-section and they could just put me to sleep and take my baby. I was hooked up to the fetal monitor quickly, the baby's heartbeat was found almost immediately, and I breathed a sigh of relief and thanksgiving to God.
A midwife was sent in to be with me, as well as a of couple nurses. Ed was ushered out to answer some questions. I was anxious to get the IV going in order to prepare for the c-section, but there was no doctor on duty! Then the heartbeat was lost. It felt, to me, that the monitor had slipped off my belly. The nurses were moving it all over trying to find my son's heartbeat. Every so often I'd hear a faint beat and think they found it, only to realize it was MY heartbeat. The heartbeat was never recovered. I don't think I really understood the depth of that until much later. At that point I had so much hope. He was alive! I'd heard his heartbeat. I told them to just put me to sleep. I didn't care. Just get my baby out! They were still waiting for the doctor to arrive, as they prepared me for surgery. The midwife was wonderful. But everything seemed like it was moving so slow. I was being prepared for a spinal. I didn't understand why they wouldn't give me an epidural. Maybe the spinal took effect more quickly, I don't know. It really didn't matter; all I wanted was to get my baby out.
Finally, I was wheeled to surgery. I passed Britt in the hallway. He was alone. Where was Ed? I gave him the thumbs up sign, meaning for him to pray, but I think he took it that everything was okay. I didn't want him to be afraid. Especally while he was all alone.
In the OR, it appeared the spinal was not taking very quickly. I was so afraid they were going to cut me while I could still feel. I explained to the nurses how Dr Brown was waiting for me at St Joseph's Women's Hospital in Tampa. I also told them my dad was Dr Hall. Someone called my dad. Someone called Dr Brown.
When, what seemed like an hour had passed, I was finally asked if they could put me to sleep. I said, "yes! I don't care!" I went to sleep with anticipation and hope. When I woke up - my hope was destroyed.
