Awful

I was trying to think of a title for this post and the same descriptive word kept popping into my head. AWFUL. That is how I would describe February 17-28. I will try to retell the awful experience the best I can so my girls will know what we all went through. It was not as awful as when Emma was in the NICU, but it was a close second! I didn't think I would have to write another long drawn out blog entry describing a bad experience. I was wrong.

On Wednesday, February 16, after Emma had her 2nd newborn screen, I went to see my doctor for my incision check. It was almost 3 weeks since my surgery. I mentioned that I had been feeling kinda bad and that the right part of my incision was very hard and tender. I also admitted that I had been walking 30 minutes on the treadmill for the past week, and I mentioned that I had been having terrible night sweats followed by shivering cold. She attributed the feeling bad and sweats to my hormones and anemia and thought that the one stitch that hadn't dissolved may be causing me discomfort. She wasn't surprised that I had started exercising, but told me to take it easy and just walk. She also mentioned that the right end of my incision is where all the "knots" were tied and that it tends to be "harder and tender longer." She was pleased that my blood pressure was normal again and told me that I no longer needed medicine. Then, she removed the lone stitch (which was painful) and told me she would see me in three weeks. I thought all her reasoning made sense and agreed that my incision had healed nicely. I just wondered about the sweating and the fact that I just didn't feel right. I decided that I had maybe overdone it by starting exercising early and decided to take a day off. We stopped by my work for a quick visit and then we headed home.

The next morning I woke up feeling even more sore on my right side and when I looked in the mirror I noticed how swollen my right abdomen was. I mentioned it to Chris and he told me to call the doctor. I decided to wait and see how the day went and hoped it would go away. The busy day went by and I forgot about the soreness until and I was only able to tolerate 20 minutes on the treadmill. It was the end of the workday so I called the doctor to let her know I was swollen and sore. The nurse called me back and told me to ice my abdomen and that the soreness was most likely from the removal of the stitch. That made sense to me so I decided to not worry about it. After I got Ryan to bed that night, I realized I was hurting more than I had been earlier in the day. I looked in the mirror and was horrified when I saw this


My whole right side of my abdomen was swollen, hard and red. I showed Chris and he became concerned. I started to really think that something was wrong, and so did he. We decided I would call the doctor first thing in the morning and try to get an appointment, since it was Friday.

The next morning, when I woke up, I started to realize how sick I was. I felt terrible and my abdomen looked worse. The redness had started to spread and my abdomen was hot and extremely tender. I called and got an appointment with another doctor, since my doctor was in surgery. The minute the doctor saw my stomach he said "You have an infection." He thought it was a superficial infection and gave me a prescription for antibiotics. He told me to go to the ER if the redness got worse or if I ran a fever. We went home and I took the antibiotics and rested all evening. I was feeling bad. I went to bed hopeful that I would feel better in the morning. I had a fun-filled day planned. Two of my best friends from Austin were driving in to visit us and another friend of mine was having a get together for me to celebrate Emma. I woke up the next morning feeling absolutely terrible. I could barely stand up and I knew that I needed to go to the hospital. The redness had spread more and I could barely stand to touch above my incision. The three doses of antibiotics that I had taken had not helped at all. I called my friends and cancelled all the plans and then I called my parents to come over and stay with the kids. We called my doctor to tell her what was going on and she told me that she would let the ER know that I was coming. When we reached the ER I had a fever, and my heart rate and blood pressure were through the roof. My blood cultures came back positive for infection and they admitted me for IV antibiotics. I assumed I would be there for 24-48 hours to get the infection under control. They agreed to let me stay on the post partum floor so Emma could stay with me so I could breastfeed her. I was upset that I was stuck in the hospital, but I was also relieved that I would start to feel better sooner. The infection had been spreading so quickly I was anxious to get the IV antibiotics started to stop the progression.

So, Emma went back into a Parkland bassinet and I lay in bed with an IV pumping me full of medication. My doctor came by and outlined the redness with a marker so that we could easily see if it worsened. Unfortunately it did, and Sunday night it went from bad to worse. The different antibiotics that they were trying did not seem to be working. I was getting sicker and my abdomen was looking terrible. I assumed they would just switch the antibiotics again so I ordered a sandwich for dinner. The nurse paged my doctor and a resident came by to take a look. That is when I realized the seriousness. The resident told me that I needed to have surgery. She called my doctor and she came in from home, and also agreed. My abdomen needed to be opened up. The only problem was that I had just eaten a sandwich. I could not be given anesthesia until eight hours after eating. My doctor was frustrated and did not want to wait until 2 a.m. to open it up. She was worried that I didn't have that much time. She wanted to take me down and give me local shots of lidocaine and try to open my incision up to see how bad the infection was. The thought of a shot in my tender abdomen was horrible, but I was scared and my doctor thought that my incision might open up on its own if we waited until 2 a.m. So I agreed. It was an awful experience, but Chris was with me through the whole procedure. The worst part was when my doctor told me that she definitely needed to take me to the OR. She was worried that the infection had gone through my fascia and had infected my uterus. She told me that if this had happened she would have to perform a hysterectomy on me. I was speechless. Had I heard her correctly? A hysterectomy? I was only days shy of 31 years old. Although I had two healthy children, I wanted to make the decision to have or not have more children. All I could do was lay there and cry and pray for the next six hours until anesthesia would put me to sleep. It was the middle of the night, but Mom stayed with Emma at the hosptial and brought her down to the pre-op so I could feed her. Chris tried to sleep, I could not. Finally 2 a.m. came and they rolled me to the OR. I said goodbye to Chris and was put to sleep not knowing what I would wake up to. I had signed a consent for a radical hysterectomy if needed. The last thing I remember before waking up after surgery was grabbing my doctors arm and begging her not to take my uterus. She looked at me with tears in her eyes and told me that she would only do it if it was to save my life.

Two and a half hours later I woke up and there was Chris. All I wanted to know was whether or not a hysterectomy had been performed. Thankfully, he was able to tell me that I had not had a hysterectomy. When they opened me up the infection had just reached the first layer of my fascia. My uterus was not affected, although my doctor told me later that if we had waited any longer it would have been. Chris told me that they had re-opened my c-section incision plus 4 cm. He told me that they had left it open and had placed a wound vacuum on it. This is what it looked like.


I spent the next week stuck in the hospital with a wound vac. I endured three terribly painful wound vac changes and ended up back in the OR the following Monday night for closure of my belly. It was an awful and scary experience. The worst part was being away from Ryan. I got to see her a few times, but the visits were brief. I cried and cried every time she left. I had family with me the whole time. My mom and Chris took turns spending the night with me to hand me Emma so I could feed her. Friends and family came and visited and brought me food. Aunt Mis helped me shower. Mom and Unc took me outside in a wheelchair for fresh air. Dad, Mom, Carol, Aunt Mis and Unc helped take care of Ryan. She was always in good hands, but I felt so out of touch with her. I am a control freak and I had no control of anything regarding her. I didn't know what she was eating, wearing, or doing. It was very hard for me. Chris had to return to work, he had taken off a month and needed to go back. I missed him and felt lonely when he was gone. It was so hard to have my family so scattered. And I was so sick. I was so angry that this had happened to me. I turned 31 in Parkland Hospital and my new baby turned one month old. Thankfully, I got to go home the night of my birthday after my surgery. My only birthday wish came true.

Below are some random pictures from those 10 days. They are all cell phone camera pictures so the quality is not good, but they are all we got.

This is what the wound vac looks like before they put it on me. The sponge is stuffed down into the opening to drain the wound and help it heal from the inside out.


This is the other part of the vacuum that I was attached to for a week.



Ryan and Aunt Mis visiting me

Emma able to track!

Ryan hanging out next to me on my hospital bed

Emma and I resting

Poor Emma - back in the Parkland bassinet

I had to drink 2 a day to get the protein needed to help me heal quickly

Over ice with a straw is the only way!

Emma looking cute

Her umbilical cord finally fell off, so Chris gave her a bath at the hospital

I got good snuggle time with Emma.

She was such a trooper.

Aunt Mis sent me this picture of Ryan asleep at home.
My heart ached I missed her so much.

This picture was in one of the many magazines that I read and it immediately made me think of my wonderful, caring mom. She was there for me the whole time. She took such great care of me and only left me because she was going to care for my child. She is the best.

Mom took Emma and I outside one evening for some fresh air.

Emma and Mom asleep one morning.

My poor mom slept on a pullout chair.

This picture was taken two days before I got to go home.

My birthday (and last day at hospital). Ryan brought me gifts to open from her and Emma and Chris! I went to the OR later that evening and Chris took me home at 8 p.m. I was so glad to be home and it was so good to sleep in my own bed, in my own house, with my whole family together.

Thank you to ALL of my friends and family that helped us out during this tough time. Thanks for all the prayers that helped me heal. I am at home now still recovering with continued help from family. Please keep praying.