Leah Kopelowitz is originally from New York and currently lives in Jerusalem with her husband Yechiel and daughters Kayla (2.5yrs), and Ella 6.5months old (4.5 adjusted). With a love for travel, reading, writing, and cooking she is also passionate about connected responsive parenting and all things baby! Excited to be part of this NICU community, Leah holds the subject of Prematurity very close to her heart; her husband is a 28 weeker twin, and both their daughters were early too!
Here's Leah's story...
Giving birth for the first time was the most glorious thing I have ever done. Nearly every detail went according to plan. My Husband, Doctor, Doula, and midwives were present and supportive, I arrived at the hospital at 7cm and 2 hours later pushed for an intense 15 minutes before my daughter Kayla was born. She was a late preterm baby, born at 36wk, with zero complications, Thank G-d. We had immediate skin to skin, immediate breastfeeding, delayed cord clamping and first bath. Although I did get one stitch, and had some of the standard cracked bleeding nipples, new mom pains, my birth experience was absolutely perfect in my eyes. In fact, one of my first thoughts was ‘gosh, I could totally do this again.’
Eighteen months later, a positive pregnancy test had me dreaming of another beautiful birth and a blissful growing family. At our first ultrasound, my ob gyn surprised me by recommending I take progestin to prevent another preterm birth. He felt Kaylas birth was so borderline, and we had gotten lucky, in that she had measured large all along the pregnancy. Initially I balked. I really really dislike the idea of putting synthetic hormones in my body. I especially did not like the idea of exposing a fetus to a medication whose long term effects on developing babies has not been yet intensively researched. My Doctor is a high risk specialist, and the father of a 32 weeker. He urged me from his professional and personal experience to reconsider, and after a few weeks of deliberating, I relented. From week 12 to week 34 I’d be taking vaginal suppositories once a day, to protect my baby girl, due December 29th.
Fast forward to late October 2019, I was out walking with Kayla when I felt a sudden sharp pain on my abdomen. It passed quickly, but I contacted my Doula to make sure it was normal. She recommended I drink and rest, but told me not to worry. I wasn't consciously concerned, but later that evening I took out my hospital bag and packed up my nursing bras and undies. I laughed at myself at the time, but I guess some part of me knew. Three days later found us in Labor and Delivery. Ellas birth was eerily similar to Kaylas in many ways. No epidural, birth within 2 hours of ‘checking in’, 15 minutes of pushing, immediate crying, skin to skin. With one glaring difference, Ella was born at 31w6d. We were extremely lucky in many ways - although the steroids for her lungs did not have time to kick in, Ella was born breathing and crying. She was strong enough to rest on me right away. I don’t remember her struggling to breathe, but I do know she was taken off me after about a minute to be placed on oxygen.
It was about 4 or 5 hours before I got to see her again. My entire body reacts to the memory of seeing her incubated with tubes in her throat and all sorts of wires all over. My heart flutters and drops, my throat constricts, if I close my eyes I am there again. I often wonder when I will forget. I wonder if I want to.
I held her in my arms, slippery, crying, new and perfect. Suddenly we were separated by wires and plastic, nurses and doctors. I carried her in my body and heart, cradled her in my arms. Now, I was asking for permission just to touch her.
I could write forever about the strange grateful guilty sadness that hasn't really left.
I could write forever about endless surprising kindnesses and blessings that have softened my soul.
I could write about a strange surreal month that somehow will last in me forever.
The days and weeks that followed Ella's birth were a hazy dream, that strange NICU dance of one step forward one step back. Unexplained infections, respiratory distress, jaundice, watching your baby root, not allowed to breastfeed because she hasn’t reached 33 weeks.
How do you explain to a two year old that she cannot meet her baby sister? How do you rest and recover and pump every three hours? How do you stay awake during kangaroo care when every bone in your body is crying for sleep?
The morning after Ella was born, I went down to the NICU to sit by her. I watched an older couple (grandparents) pacing the halls. I watched them hear their grandbaby had not made it. I watched the new parents stand frozen and empty handed in a darkened room, as the grandmother whispered on the phone nearby, telling relatives that they had tried but he was just too small, too early. Sitting by Ellas incubator I didn't know how to feel, didn't know how I felt. I was grieving and grateful, terrified and so incredibly lucky.
Ella thrived. She hit all the milestones she had to - she was weaned off oxygen, and at a week old was ready to graduate from her incubator to a warming bed. We were moved to a lower dependency room, and I was able to give her her first bath, which I tried to do every day until we were discharged. I massively regret not asking anyone to photograph those baths. I am a very self conscious person by nature, and I worried that the nurses would think I was shallow. I felt it might seem selfish to take them away from caring for other babies, for just a photo. Being able to dress Ella in her own clean clothes, wash her, change her diapers, and eventually nurse her, was so empowering for me. I loved that the Doctors and Nurses had to ask me questions to help them understand where Ella was up to. I had had this strange feeling that my baby had been stolen from me, and being able to regain that mama-baby relationship was so so healing.
The two major things we battled to get to discharge day were de-sats and infections. Ella had de sats with every bottle feed, but was otherwise ready to come home. We were discharged on condition that I exclusively breastfeed until her due date. It’s been 5.5 months since she came home and we have not used our frozen milk supply at all. We are getting ready to donate it all and I am so excited!
The other final issue was recurrent infection. Ella was put on IV antibiotics immediately after birth, just in case infection had caused preterm birth. Her IV line got infected which extended the length of her antibiotic treatment. After a few days the next IV line got infected as well. When she was 2.5 weeks old, her antibiotic IV line near her ankle was taken out. Several hours later my mother noticed a large purple bruise forming in that spot. Within the day the bruise turned into a large raised blister. The Doctor called for a round of blood work as he was concerned it was a sign of sepsis. Waiting for those test results was agonizing. I was so angry and so scared. Thank G-d it turned out to be ‘just’ a hematoma - probably the result of someone handling the IV line incorrectly. Ellas ankle still has a rough little scar, it grows with her. The Doctors said to give it up to a year, they say the scar may not be permanent.
Something inside me is certain - some scars last a lifetime. It won't hurt forever, you won't think of it everyday, but these days will shape you. They last forever.
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