I found out I was pregnant a few days after my birthday (14th)....around the 17th or 18th of September, 1994. I was shocked, happy, scared and nervous all rolled into one body. It was a different reaction than I expected to have myself. I was having a hard time adjusting to all the changes that I was going through – being unemployed for the fist time every (or so it seemed), living in a strange country where I didn’t understand the language, and add to that the hormonal roller coaster to come!

I had just become comfortably pregnant around the end of November, beginning of December when my blood pressure did a jump from normal to borderline high. I was told that there would have to be blood tests and the possibility of bedrest for the rest of my pregnancy. I lost it…..I was so upset. I was only 17 weeks pregnant, why was this happening to me? Was I being punished for having such negative thoughts during those first months? The blood tests came back showing no changes to my body that would effect you. I was told to go home and let them know if I had any swelling or any other problems. I was also told to restrict salt intake…which I did.

We had an ultra sound at 20 weeks and decided to find out what you were – boy or girl. Well, you didn’t cooperate at all! You curled up on your side and just slept through the same thing….I didn’t see a thing. Butch said from his angle (at my feet) he could see it all going by…he saw your head, you face, your hands. I saw a blurry screen. I did ask one time if that was you “Cappello.” This means is that your cap. Ha! The guy probably thought, "ok, here’s another incompetent American that will slaughter my language" and calmly informed me that, yes, that was your “cappo” (head) – oops! Boy, was my face red!

There weren’t any other complications from this point…I went home and did my usual activities and you continued to grow. You were a very quiet baby. I think there were only two times that I had LARGE movements from you – big rolls. Other than that, you just gave me little nudges and wiggles.

Somewhere around my 29th or 30th week I started to swell, and being such a clueless first time mom, I had no idea this wasn’t normal swelling. Everyone swells when they are pregnant. Well….not like I did. I didn’t have any ankles left..they were as big as my calves, and my face was really showing it. Hindsight tells me this is when the problems (and my pre-eclampsia) were starting.

I went in for my appointment at 32 weeks expecting them to tell me how the change over from the military clinic to the Italian Dr.’s (Camarda) office would go. I ended up being placed in an exam room laying on my left side after having my blood pressure taken and it being extremely high (Pre-eclampsia). Well, this is the beginning of the end of my pregnancy and naive ideas about pregnancy.

So...there I lay, waiting for the doctor. When he comes in there is no exam, there is no retaking the blood pressure...there is the announcement that they are “sending” me to Policlinico (the Italian Hospital that the base used for births and female medical problems). I’m thinking, “ok, I’ll go by and pick up Butch and we’ll go.” Nope... my Dr. continued on to tell me that he would like to make the call to my husband for me....because he knows I don’t need any additional stress at this point. So, here I am, laying in the clinic crying my eyes out, wondering what’s going to happen, hoping that Butch will be able to catch a ride to the clinic in time to get the car keys from me – we only had one car at the time.

Butch did make it, just in time to get the keys from me as they are wheeling me out of the clinic. I told him that the Dr. had the keys to the car and meet me at the clinic. I’m sure I was a sight being rolled out of the clinic – red faced and crying.

So…..they load me into a big green (gag) military ambulance. Oh, joy…do you know that the suspension on these things are designed for war? Well, let me tell you, they don’t function well on open roads. I was jiggled and bounced to the hospital. AND to top it off, you know you ALWAYS are asked to pee in a cup when you go in for your pre-natal exam? Well, I didn’t get that chance... I didn’t even think about it when I was in the clinic, but all that jostling sure woke me up to the fact that I was 32 weeks pregnant and had to pee. NOW. I let the nurse know what the situation was... and she said that they would find me a bathroom when we got to the hospital. This is a half an hour drive on a good day – and it wasn’t a good day. 45 minutes and about 20 minutes into it and I have to pee.

Now, to make things even more comical – the driver has never done this before and misses the turn to the emergency room entrance!! Eeek, the need to relieve myself is compounding by the minute. He gets the truck turned around in a 5 point turn – hey, the streets are narrow, but come on... I have to go now!! Ok, we’re in the entrance and going toward the elevator…there is a bathroom RIGHT there... they won’t let me get off the gurney to go... oooohhhh, this isn’t good. I’m laying there on a gurney wiggling to keep from wetting my pants and half this hospital has to think that I am in labor!

We finally get to labor and deliver (5th floor – which in Italy is actually the 6th floor, because there is the ground floor, then first floor, etc..)…and I basically tell them that I am going to the bathroom NOW! Then the only one they have is like a labor one... with no seat – I have no idea what they thing was used for... but I can’t sit down – there is a thin rim. Sigh... at this point, I just don’t care – this is not an option.

Ok, now do the math... I have been tossed into a ambulance while hoping that my husband can make it to the clinic in time to get the car keys so he can follow me to the hospital. I am about ready to wet my pants and barely make it to the bathroom. My blood pressure is out of this world – 210/1XX . I only remember the 210. I was told later that this is stroke range. Yikes.

I get a shot of something, an internal exam, and some other meds, and tucked into a bed that they have wheeled up to the labor and delivery area. I was told that some of it was for the water retention and BOY they meant it. I spent the next few hours on the toilet... I lost 8 kilo’s of water in a matter of around 12 hours. The conversion works out to somewhere near 17 and a half pounds of water... wow!!

So, there I was, in the hospital – for the duration. I maintained in the 170/80’s range for the duration. I never budged, but I never felt ill – which after talking with others with Pre-eclampsia, I find amazing. I had always maintained a very reasonable blood pressure of around 110/70 or something like that, sometimes more like 110/60’s range. So this was a mighty big jump in pressure for me, but I FELT fine. I had a few hot flashes when I first started to experience the downslide, but that was it.

On Saturday, the 8th of April, I had almost convinced the Dr.’s to let me go home and come back in for monitoring every other day. In hindsight, I’m so glad that they didn’t let me go home.

Sunday, the 9th, things started to deteriorate for you. You started to sleep all the time. The lack of movement wasn’t a tip off for me since you weren’t an active baby to begin with. It was during one of my normal daily monitoring that the nurse noted that you didn’t wake up or change your heart rate AT ALL. She proceeded to shake my belly (hum, this is weird) to see if she could wake you. You did wake, but only for 2 or 3 minutes, then right back to sleep. Repeat this a few times. They monitor me for longer... I wait for the Dr. to look at the read outs. He says that after an ultrasound the next day we will see where I stand. I had gotten up and monitored in the middle of the night that night too... at this point it was such a relief to just lay there at 2am and listen to your heart beat and know that you were still with us.

Monday, the 10th, I go in for multiple ultrasounds. I had one where the Dr. tries to tell me that the placenta is getting old – to do this, he tells me it’s getting...and he grabs his gray hair...and tells me the Italian equivalent. I get the picture. I don’t even ask what sex you are any more. I just ask if you are OK – they say, “yes,” that’s all I need at this point. I then go for a blood flow ultrasound to see if the blood is getting to you from the placenta. All seems to be good in this area, but you are still sleeping. After all the ultrasounds and such, I was told to call your father so they could talk with us. When he got there we went to find the Dr and talk with him. At this point the whole picture is laid out for us. You aren’t doing well, and they think that it would be better if you are born – soon. It’s not critical enough to do right now, but it soon will be, so they wanted to take you the next day. So, then and there, it was decided that your birthday would be Tuesday, 11 April, 1995... at sometime after 8:30.

I sat there in shock crying while Dr. Camarda called the base and let me speak with my own Dr. that had done all my pre-natal care to that point. I had no clue what to ask. I was so unprepared for what could happen, what would happen and just what we were facing. The estimated that you would be born at around 5 pounds and they would be able to handle all your care at this hospital. How wrong they were –

Your dad came to the hospital around 7:30...brought the camera to document some of the few pictures that were actually taken of me when I was pregnant. We sat around and talked – it was a beautiful sunny spring day – all the flowers were in bloom and I just thought this is a good day for you to be born.

They wheeled my bed out of the room and your dad couldn’t fit into the elevator...I asked him for a kiss and he said he would kiss me before I went into surgery. The dad’s aren’t allowed into surgery in Italy. Well, he went to the other elevator, and lost me. He went to labor and deliver on the 5th floor, and I went to the 3rd floor to surgery. Ooops.

I told the nurses to find him, but by then I was in the surgical area and he couldn’t get to me anyway. There was a wonderfully nice English-speaking nurse there that came to question me on the names that were picked for either sex – we still didn’t know... I told her our choices and she was trying to distract me – she told me of a woman there in the surgical ward who was 99% accurate on the sex of babies to be born and asked if I would like to have her guess on you. She walked up, took one look at my belly and said, “femina.” Se was right!

You were born at 8:45….the only real memories I have during this day are feeling the tube coming out of my throat from being intubated (gag!), hurting like heck when they moved me from the operating table to my bed (OUCH!), and having that same English speaking nurse get right in my face, or ear, since my eyes would not open, saying, “you have a beautiful baby girl.” The rest of the day was a haze of waking and asking if you were ok, yes EVERY TIME I woke up the same question spilled out.

You had other plans though. You had a rougher start than was anticipated. From what we gathered, there was little amniotic fluid left and you had your umbilical cord wrapped around your neck three times. You were a true blonde, you only rolled one direction :) while in the womb!

You also didn’t meet expectations on weight. You were a whopping 3 lbs 2 oz and 17 and ½ inches long. At this size, Policlinico just wasn’t prepared to care for you and you had to be transferred to a hospital that had a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU).

You were fed (exclusively) via a nasal gavage tube for the first 6 days of your life. This is a tube that runs through your nose, down your throat to your stomach. You were just too tiny to have the energy to suck a bottle and still gain weight, so they thought this would work the best to get your body weight up. Feedings were slow and very little amounts so as not to over tax your immature digestive system. It seemed to work, and you were a “feed and grow” baby after that first week. The gavage tube was still used, but only to help you finish off bottles when you would get too tired to finish them on your own.

I wasn’t able to visit you the first 6 days of your life, but your dad brought me pictures within hours of my coming out of my anesthesia fog (hours and hours later). You had your dad’s chin from the very start... looked like a little old version of him : ) but you were so cute, really! I wasn’t in the hospital because of the blood pressure, just due to policies and procedures. In Italy, there is a 7 day stay with a c-section, 3 day stay with vaginal birth...and they wouldn’t transfer me to the hospital you were in so that I could be closer...so I just waited. I received pictures of you every other day, and your dad juggled his time between my hospital and yours. Busy guy, hu?

By the time I got out of the hospital, it was hard to imagine that I had a baby, that I had ever been pregnant. It all seemed so distant, so far away. You father initiated me into putting on the hospital gown, scrubbing and getting into the NICU. I hadn’t a clue and didn’t know what to expect. I had only seen pictures of you – and very little surrounding things... it was an alien world. I started to cry while scrubbing... The guilt that I couldn’t carry you to term, the fact that you were even in this place when I should still be pregnant another 5 weeks still, yet you were in this strange place.

I cried all the way to your isolette... the nurse was getting ready to change and feed you. She let me change your diaper for the first time, and then proceeded to wrap you up in a sheet and a wool blanket, wires, tubes and all and place you in my arms. I was allowed to feed you a bottle and hold you for a long time.

Later, I was told that this was the first time you had been out of your isolette for a parent...your dad had gotten to put his hands through the port holes and comfort you - like when they removed your head IV (youch!!). Dad told me that this was the longest he had ever seen you keep your eyes open too. We got a chance to get to know one another....and I loved it!

That was how we continued for 24 days (not that we were counting - yeah right!) Dad and I would come and see you every day - sometimes I would spend the day with you, but we made every effort to make it there before feedings so that we could enjoy that snuggle time.

This is a favorite pictureof you.

Before we knew it, we were able to take you home…this is a pictureof the outside of the Neonatal ward of the Udine Italy Hospital.