Some of my readers know this story, but post homemade Mother's Day gifts and special hugs from my children, I am reminded about how lucky I am to be with them. I can't believe that I often forget how close I came to missing out on raising them.
When my youngest, Katie, was born, it seemed like a relatively easy, non eventful delivery. It was definitely faster and easier than my first delivery, and I felt fabulous cuddling with my new baby girl. Our whole family, even Chip, was euphoric about meeting this little person.
48 hours later, as I was supposed to be getting ready to go home, I became very sick. My fever shot up to 103 degrees, I began to tremble all over, almost as if I was convulsing, and every part of my body hurt. The doctors were frantically trying to learn what was wrong with me. My red blood cell count was dropping. I was held down so they could cath me (just see how that feels after giving birth) to get a clean urine sample. I was force fed some dye and rushed to an emergency cat scan. Vials and vials of blood were drawn, and I just got sicker every minute. The doctor asked me, "What do you think is wrong? Where does it hurt?" and I replied "I am dying. That is what is wrong." I can remember looking at my parents and asking, "Who is going to take care of my family?"
24 hours later the preliminary results came back that I was sick with puerperal fever, or child bed fever. I was septic, meaning my bloodstream was infected with a bacterium, that was lysing my red blood cells at light speed. The bacteria was a group A strep-the same germ that causes strep throat. How it got into my bloodstream is a frightening mystery. Thankfully I was started on IV antibiotics and began to improve after the 1st dose. I still felt terrible, but no longer like death was imminent. I was hospitalized for a full week, and even after I was released I had to go back every day to get IV antibiotics.
There were a few hours when I stared death in the face. I knew that the most important thing was getting well so I could care for my children. Now, I realize that this was freak incident-this happens so rarely in industrialized nations that it has been omitted from lots of the Pregnancy Books. (However, in underdeveloped nations it is all too frequent, incidence in Haiti is the highest of countries in our hemisphere) What this horrific experience provided me with was perspective. True, I got sick in the hospital, but when I did I was immediately offered life saving medication. Had the germ that infected me been resistant to antibiotics, I wouldn't be here right now, so that is another instance of blessing. I survived to come home and mother my children, be a wife to my husband, and try to impact the world one more day. Each of those days is a gift.
Blessing #14, May 11, 2010
I am grateful that I am here to mother my children, love my husband and extended family, and teach my students. I acknowledge that each day that I get to stay is a gift from God.
2 comments:
Wow. What a frightening experience! Stories like yours remind me how lucky we are to live in a place with abundant medical knowledge and resources. You never know when a freak accident or illness will strike, and it is comforting to know that there is usually help available. I'm glad you survived - it seems you do a lot of good for your family and the world!
When you first told this story at school, you made me cry then...and reading it now I began to cry again. I cannot imagine what my life would be like without you...or anyone else's life you have touched. You're such a special person, and you do the world a lot of good! :) You are loved by so many.
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