About 6 weeks ago I started experiencing an upper backache. I didn�t think much of it because, like everyone else, I have had backaches before. This one did hurt quite a bit, but I figured I would have Dean rub my back for me to work out the kinks and it would be fine. It didn�t work, so I took some Motrin and the pain eased up. But after the Motrin wore off, the pain was back. So I took the allowed dosages until I saw my doctor the following week. I told her about the pain and she said the only thing I can take is Tylenol. She also suggested I go to my cardiologist to make sure it wasn�t my heart causing my pain since it was in my upper back. I went to see him the following week and I had an ECG performed. It came back normal. He said my heart was doing very well, but I did have high blood pressure. It was 186/115. He suggested I tell my OB/GYN to increase my blood pressure medication to get it under better control. I went that following week to see her and I told her my heart was fine, but my blood pressure was very high and the pain in my back was worsening. Again, she said take only Tylenol and she increased my dosage of my blood pressure medication. That was on a Wednesday. I went home, increased my blood pressure medication and stocked up on the Tylenol. That day, I started getting a nosebleed, which at times was quite heavy. I thought nothing of it because I had read in a book that because a pregnant women increases her volume of blood, that a nosebleed would be likely. My nose bled for 3 days, my back got worse to the point that the Tylenol would wear off in 10-20 minutes and my blood pressure was still high. On Friday night, September 26, I noticed that a very large blood clot had drained into my throat from my nose. It was not the first one. I weighed this with the fact that my back pain was unbearable and had been going on for 4 weeks and my blood pressure was still high, so I decided I would go to the emergency room to get some pain relief that was stronger, longer lasting and safe to take while being pregnant. Next thing I know, I am being wheeled up to the 2nd floor of the hospital, which is the labor and delivery floor, but I thought it was just a precaution because I was 28 weeks pregnant and still had 12 more weeks to go. I get to room 218, where I am asked to give a urine sample and given a hospital gown to put on. Things get cloudy from here, but I�ll try to be accurate. My grandparents and Nahal had been in the emergency room with me and they came upstairs with me, but they all left at some point and it was just Dean and I left. I remember having a monitor wrapped around my tummy so the baby�s heartbeat could be heard and I remember getting a steroid shot in my ass and an I.V. put into both my left and right hand. I had blood taken a couple times. My OB/GYN showed up and she was in there with several people. She mentioned that if my blood pressure was not brought down, they would have to either deliver my baby in the morning or put me on 3 months of bed rest. Dean and I were then told to get some rest. But that wasn�t feasible because so many nurses and doctors were in and out of the room all night, taking blood and taking my blood pressure. I remember a children�s doctor coming in from Children�s Hospital of Orange County. All of this did not hit me until about 5 A.M. when I somewhat heard that they were taking my baby. I told Dean to call and get my grandparents to the hospital as soon as possible. I then remember having to drink some horrible fluid that would numb my throat so they could stick tubes down my throat for the surgery. I was told I could not be awake during the delivery because if they were to give me a spinal, I would bleed to death. I remember being wheeled out of my room, past the waiting room where I saw my aunt and uncles. My aunt had tears in her eyes and that is when I became scared. She held my hand until we reached the operating room where she had to let go and I was taken in alone. I remember being put onto a table that seemed to be shaped like a cross and I had to have a blood transfusion because all my platelets were gone. I remember seeing a lot of young looking girls walking around and preparing things. They were discussing the guy who had just jumped from the 6th floor to his death about an hour before. They all had water bottles and I wanted some because I had not had anything to eat or drink in the last 12 hours. I was very agitated because the girls all looked to be under 21 and here they were to assist in the delivery of my baby via an actual operation. My anesthesiologist not only seemed quite young, but she was very dim-witted. She began taking these hard, orange plastic tubes and shoving them up my nose and then down my throat. She did this with 3 of these tubes, each one larger than the last. I started fighting her because that nasty fluid I had to drink did not numb anything and I was letting her know that I could feel it. I got strapped into my bed and then she continued shoving these things up my nose. She said she had to do this while I was awake because she was afraid that with the shape of my throat, I would aspirate if she put me out first. Then she put the final tube in and it was a lot bigger and had a few weird attachments on it that also went up my nose and down my throat. When it got into my throat, my throat filled with thick saliva and a lot of blood and it was pouring out my nose and mouth. She stuck a tube in my throat and suctioned, but it continued filling up. I tried letting her know this, but she fought me. Finally, I broke through the straps and made her pull the tube out. I heard several people say holy shit because I busted though the straps. A few people got on me to hold me down, a mask went over my face and I woke up a little later in the trauma unit. I was told that my son, Damian Alexander Whitley, was born at 7:25 A.M. and weighed in at 1lb, 7.8 oz., and was 12 �� long. He was upstairs in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. I was told he was born breathing on his own. I remember people coming in to see me, including my friend from San Diego and her boyfriend. I was very happy and shocked that they had made such a long drive so early in the morning on last minute�s notice just to be there for me and my son. Dean�s parents and brother were there and most of my family was there. I did not get to see my son until Sunday night when I was taken out of the trauma unit and into my own room. On my way to my room, they took me by the NICU to see my baby. I was wheeled into this baby themed room that was filled with machines and incubators and nurses and alarms going off. I was led to the back where this incubator held the tiniest thing I have ever seen; my son. He was so tiny and he was laying there on his tummy, nude, with a C-PAP up his nose and a sunglass shaped bandage over his eyes. He looked so frail, but his color was good and he was still breathing on his own and the only machines he was hooked up to were monitors. None of his machines were needed to help him live, just to monitor in case anything went wrong. I was told that he would be there for 8-10 weeks, possibly less. I remained in the hospital for one week. I heard many people tell me I was so sick, but I didn�t know the extent of it until someone told me that my blood pressure was 199/119. Had it gone up one point to 200/119, I would have had a major stroke and my brain would have hemorrhaged and my liver and kidneys would have failed. Basically, I was one point from death and if I didn�t get to the emergency room when I did, I would have been dead that Saturday morning instead of giving birth to the most adorable baby that has ever existed on this earth. For those of you who doubt God's existence, guess again.
