Reposting bc I didn't get a lot of responses previously.... I'm so sorry it's so long but I need advice...

My entire pregnancy wasn't pleasant. I worked, through all of it, but constantly felt like something was wrong. I went to the hospital a few times during my pregnancy, with the final time being being around 37 weeks, when I had preterm contractions due to dehydration. They did a sonogram (the only one they had done since 20 weeks) but said the baby looked fine. My mom kept asking how big the baby was measuring and they said they didn't check that...

I had a 3D/4D ultrasound at 32 weeks that was not with my doctor, where they mentioned the baby was measuring small. When I asked my doctors, they dismissed me and said that I shouldn't listen to those techs as there was no indication the baby was small. I asked throughout the final weeks about her size, but all they would say was that my baby was measuring average and everything was fine. I kept having a really hard time at work, but the doctor kept making it as if I was just being a baby. The most they did was cut me down to 40 hours a week. At 38 weeks, I had enough, and took my leave early, even though I felt like everyone thought I was just being a cry baby. I just felt like my baby needed me to stay home.

At my 39 week appointment, I had been having contractions for over a week, but not enough to worry my doctors. They stripped my membranes and I was feeling positive labor would come on soon. A few days later, I lost my mucus plug. She was due Monday the 16th, and on the morning of the 15th, my water broke while I laid in bed with my husband.

That's when I started to get worried.

The fluid was bright yellow and would not stop. I know it's supposed to be a lot of fluid but this was excessive. It continued for hours. When we got to the hospital, which is 45 minutes from where I live, it continued to pour out. They asked me if I 'thought' my water broke.... but I knew. I immediately seemed to lose size of my belly. I gave them my birth plan (all natural, no IVs, no intervention) and that immediately was compromised. First the baby's heartbeat kept dipping with each contraction, which were not strong, nor productive. They wanted to hook up an IV and after they failed twice in their attempt, I went into a full blown anxiety attack. It took my mother and husband to hold me down, and after an hour of consoling, they am finally got an IV in. Then the on call doctor (mine were off that day... my luck) wanted to start pit bc they found meconium in my amniotic fluid. I was petrified. I read nothing but terrible things about pit and was worried it would distress the baby more. They finally told me it was necessary to the baby's health, and I allowed them to start me on the lowest dosage... 20 minutes in, my contractions went from easy to intolerable and I was in excruciating pain. The baby's heart rate dropped and they pulled the plug... my baby was not responding well to contractions... it was a bad sign. The nurse, who was a complete saint and so sympathetic to my panic, continued to fight to keep my birth plan as in tact as possible. She tried an oxygen mask, which helped, and my own natural contractions picked up... but the doctor was still concerned because I wouldn't dilated. They decided to cut my pit dosage in half and try again. I was doing fine through the contractions, but they were now painful enough that I really only wanted to see my husband. The oxygen helped immensely. I made it almost an hour and had to use the restroom. My husband called the nurse, and I tried to get up... suddenly the room went into a panic..... nurses came running in and screaming to each other... they locked everyone out and screamed to my husband to flip me onto all fours, I was crying and begging to know what was wrong... my baby's heart rate dropped in half. They ripped the pit off of my IV and pushed me onto all fours, where the baby finally stabilized. I began to cry and my husband... my rock... talked me through as the nurse continued to flurry around me... a c-section was no longer an option. The baby had a fetal intolerance to labor and she needed out ASAP. They let my family kiss me good bye and brought me into the OR. I was petrified. I had already shown that my anxiety could control me to the point where I could not control myself. What if I made the situation worse? They wouldn't let my husband in until after my epidural, and my amazing nurse held me to her chest as I cried through the process. She helped me through a moment, and laid me down. They put the sheet up and tied me down. They started the surgery as I just continued to ask for my husband. They were beyond accommodating and brought him in, as well as allowed me to play music through the surgery to help my anxiety. Shortly after my husband sat down, they started to push on my chest... she was very high. They pulled her out, and she was silent. I immediately held my breath, waiting to hear anything. The doctors and nurses kept saying she was so beautiful, but not a peep from her.... I looked at my husband...... was this nightmare never going to end? Then there was a squeak. Small... tiny... but a noise! I cried. They worked furiously to put me back together as I held my breath to listen to any kind of noise I could gather. The music played, and I tried to focus on the lyrics so maybe I could remember what was playing when she came out, when they put my daughter on my chest... I cried of happiness, but she was so small? How much did she weigh? They said they hadn't weighed her yet... they said she came out going to the bathroom so she already had a diaper. I couldn't see her she was so small... I just felt her lying there... quiet but her skin was on mine. I asked my husband as I sobbed, what color are her eyes? What color is her hair? Why is she so small? Why is she so quiet? They hurried to put me back together, and although the whole surgery only took 45 minutes, it seemed forever. They finished up, and untied my arms. I touched her gently as they finished up, and said it was time for her to go. My husband went with her to the nursery, and my nurse, my sweet nurse, talked me thru the next hour. In recovery, I begged to see my daughter. I knew something was wrong. I could tell, by everyone's voices, they were lying to keep me calm. I asked my husband when he checked in on me... she weighed in at only four pounds five ounces. Why? She was full term? I barraged my nurse with questions. She said everything was fine... maybe I could see my daughter soon... she told me to worry about myself... I just sat and waited... I got to my room around 1am on Monday morning, my daughters due date. The pain was excruciating. My husband was in and out often, to check on our daughter. She was in the nursery, and they wouldn't let me see her until at least 8am, and I would have to be able to walk first. I furiously worked to move my numb body. Every part of me hurt and I cried as I kicked and kicked, until all the numbness left and all that remained was pain... I didn't care. I was seeing my daughter. Around 5am, the nurse let me try pumping. Nothing came out, but she said it was to be expected and we could try again later. I refused to sleep. As soon as 8am hit, I told the nurse and my husband to take me to my daughter. They thought I was crazy to try walking so soon, but I didn't care. I stood up, and made my way to the nursery. She was in the special needs room... I remembered it from the hospital tour. I remembered that I didn't pay attention when they talked about it during the tour because I didn't think that would be us... why would it be? All they kept telling me my whole pregnancy was that she was fine...

She couldn't breathe properly. She wouldn't respond to anyone. One of her eyes wouldn't open. She was pale in color. I couldn't hold her. I couldn't feed her. I rubbed my daughter's skin and begged to know where I went wrong... why did my body fail her?

They said she had an umbilical cord & placenta failure. She was undersized because she was starving inside of me. My fluid had deceived my doctors into believing all was well, and although I pushed my whole pregnancy that something wasn't right, they never checked my concerns, and I was angry. My weeks of contractions had only distressed my child, causing her to use the restroom and making her septic. Her small placenta had caused limited movement, and her left side of her face wouldn't move. She was in distress this whole time... and no one knew and no one listened to the crazy over protective pregnant lady.....

Maybe I should have pushed more. Maybe my doctors messed up by not doing another ultrasound. Maybe they should have caught it at the hospital when I came in for preterm labor... I don't know. My parents are furious and want me to get a lawyer. My daughter is showing improvements, but I feel like we could have been more prepared for this... I feel like I failed her.

At least I am pumping milk. My last sitting brought over 11mL... and I am so proud. It's as if my body knows how badly she needs it.

Thank you, if you did sit through this whole long spiel. If you have any advice or anything to help us gain understanding, it would be appreciated. It's time for me to go visit her again, so I have to finish up.

I added pictures for cuteness. I hope someone can give us some insight... or maybe this will help someone else... trust your instinct. You aren't crazy.

"Other arms reach out to me

Other eyes smile tenderly

Still in peaceful dreams I see

The road leads back to you

Woah, Georgia, Georgia

No peace, no peace I find

Just an old, sweet song

Keeps Georgia on my mind"