I do believe that one of the sneakiest, least talked about, issues of new motherhood is hair loss. Those pregnancy books that gush over the lustrous hair that you'll have during your nine (or, in my case, ten) months of waiting really do us a disservice by ignoring the inevitable. That hair...that lustrous hair...that which just does not fall out on a daily basis during pregnancy? It's coming out sometime.
And so, along will dealing with too-tight pants and leaking milk, you must also lose all your hair. Oh, I know that the body is just playing catch-up. But, seriously...when I see all that hair in the shower, I'm pretty sure I'm going to need a wig.
And a hair net.
Showing posts with label baby talk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baby talk. Show all posts
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Joshua's Birth Story
Joshua's birth was such a time of learning for everyone involved. We were taught so many things by our Father and stand in awe of the experience.
I had reached 43 weeks and 1 day in my pregnancy. While Abby was 10 days late, I secretly hoped that she was only late because of her positioning and that this birth would be different. So when I started having prodromal labor (also called "false labor", but different from Braxton Hicks contractions) at 38.5 weeks, I lived in a continual state of "This could be it!" I couldn't believe it each time when the contractions would fizzle out and we'd begin our wait again. But, miraculously, by the time I'd reached 43 weeks, I'd also reached a place of rest. Oh, I still wanted to get that baby out, but I was no longer a crazed lunatic about it! I figured God had something yet to accomplish before the baby could come and who was I to rush Him?
So, when, at 43 weeks and 1 day, contractions began at dinner time, I paid no real attention to them and just expected them to go away sometime in the night. By 11:15pm, though, I could no longer stay in bed. Contractions were about 6 minutes apart and I really had to breathe through them. Still, I wasn't ready to declare myself "in labor" yet. Been there, done that. So, I just sat up at the computer and tried to distract myself enough to get through them. Eventually, though, I was having trouble getting through them alone and wanted Don's support. I woke him at 2am and told him that today was the day. (That would be Monday morning). After listening to me moan through a few contractions, he knew I was serious and he jumped to life. He started moving things around and preparing our room...even sweeping! He drew me some bath water and I soaked for a while. We eventually called our neighbor who, along with her eldest daughter, had volunteered to come for the birth to help in any capacity needed. They both came for Abby's labor as well. They arrived sometime around 4am. They were both so excited that the day had finally come.
One of the things L, my neighbor, helped with was teaching me to make low moaning sounds through the pain. I had been making higher pitched noises, which she said was natural to do when in pain, but that lower sounds helped the body work better. It took some practice, but I finally allowed myself to make the sounds, which became more natural as the day wore on.
And wore on and on.
In the early morning, I had determined that I was dilated to about 5 cm. L was sure several times that I must be nearing transition as I became more and more agitated about the severe pain I was experiencing. Each contraction brought fire to my back. I could deal with the pain in my abdomen, but the back pain was becoming unbearable. It even caused me to throw up. 
When, at sometime in the afternoon, I found that I was still at about 5 cm, I became completely defeated. I had been awake for nearly 36 hours, struggling through contractions that were unlike any pain I could ever imagine. In the early afternoon, they had gotten to 3 minutes apart, but by this time, they were spacing back out to about 8 minutes apart and I knew I had a long, long way to go. And that is about when I began to lose it.
If the birth had been near, I felt like I could go on. But with the contractions spacing back out, and no progress having been made all day, I felt like each contraction was pushing me further over the edge. We spoke with a doctor-friend and he suggested some maneuvers to get the baby to turn from the posterior position (the reason for the intense back pain and slow progress). His suggestion involved positioning through 8 contractions. But at that point, all my energy was completely gone. I couldn't even contemplate how to get through one contraction, let alone eight. Of course, the contractions were coming whether I moved through them or not, but in my mind, I felt like I could somehow stop them. Don and L actually had to move and lift me into each new position, as my arms and legs no longer seemed to work. Caleb came up to hold me and hug me when my sobbing became the new sound they heard. He was so worried about me.
Through much struggle and prayer, we finally decided that I needed help. I knew that if I could just get some rest, I could finish this thing. But rest is unobtainable when every 8 minutes your back becomes a raging ball of fire. I cannot tell you how much Don struggled through this decision. He wanted so much to be in God's will through this whole birth process and knew that the only thing to fear was to move outside of His will. I was much less objective, obviously, but knew that if I would allow him to come to a decision, that I would be secure in his covering. I cannot even explain how much I prayed that his decision would be the one I wanted, and I didn't know how I would continue if it was not, but I knew I had to let him make it. In the end, we decided that I would go to the hospital and get some pain relief, which would allow me to get some rest and enough strength to finish the birth. Our other hope was, that with some pain relief, that we would be able to get the baby to turn out of a posterior position which would ease the descent and speed the process back up. And, of course, that with some relief, that my contractions would pick back up.
We began the trip to Omaha, (our local hospital does not allow VBACs and would've taken me for an immediate c-section, calling in a surgeon from Lincoln), which seemed to take an eternity. We arrived at about 9pm and got right into a room. The nurse verified that I was indeed at 5 cm and shortly after, the doctor on call came in. We told him what we wanted and he agreed, making us very secure that he felt that there was absolutely no reason that I would not have a VBAC. The epidural was given and I immediately began to sleep...resting so well that within just a short time, the doctor returned to check my progress and I was at 8 cm. (My water broke with the exam and it was full of meconium, a normal occurrence with an overdue baby and not alarming to the doctor...they would just have NICU standing by just in case.) The head was still not coming down, though, and a new problem was developing. The baby's heartrate was slowing with each contraction, which is normal, but it was taking a long time to regain its speed. They tried putting me in different positions, giving me oxygen, and everything else they could think of to get the baby more oxygen. Still, the heart rate was not improving. Rather, it was getting slower and slower. The doctor had me try to push, hoping that we could get the head descended and speed the birth, but the posterior position was still holding that head high. Without an immediately impending birth, the doctor felt that a c-section was our only hope of getting the baby out fast enough.
Now, anyone who knows me, knows that I do not have an automatic trust of doctors. I've read too much to accept the fear-pushing that often goes on with doctors. And I know that many times, their advise is based on their own protection (being able to say "I did all I could") or even convenience (inducing because of a "scheduling conflict", for example). And distress of the baby is an overly-used road to a c-section. Of course, that is not to say that all doctors are bad, or that they only think of themselves or anything of the sort. I do believe that in most cases, they are acting in a way they think is completely right. And I am grateful for the service they provide. And, there are genuinely times when the only option to birth a healthy, live baby is to do a c-section. I just think that they are overused, especially in the U.S., and that they are often seen as the only option when they are, in fact, not.
Feeling the way I do, then, made the decision a hard one. Was this a genuine case of distress? Was this the only way? Even now, I do not know. I will never know. Would the baby have been fine if we had waited? Maybe...maybe not. What I do know was that as soon as we gave the go-ahead, I had a sense of peace about it. I knew that we were doing the right thing for us. Perhaps, even, it was the reason we had come, the reason I had felt such a need to get to the hospital. Perhaps. We won't know. What I do know is that though disappointed that I would have a second c-section and worried about the risks it involved for both the baby and me, I was sure that we were heading in the right direction.
They began to quickly prep me for the surgery. Don was given those paper clothes to change into so that he could be there while my epidural was pumped up to completely numb me from belly to toes. The extra drugs in my system, along with my exhaustion and nervousness over the baby's condition, caused me to shake uncontrollably. It was the most frustrating thing. I did get some relief right about the time they were pulling the baby out, which was so good. Don got to glance over the drape to tell me that it was a boy! I was so incredibly happy...especially for Caleb's sake, as he's been praying for a brother for about 2 years now. He emerged at exactly 1:30am and was whisked off to the other room right away. Don left to go see him and I waited to be put back together. At some point, someone called out that he was 9 pounds, 10 ounces and utterances of awe went around the room.
Things started to go bad for me at that point. The shaking returned full-force and I began to feel very panicky. My chest felt tight, my face felt flush, I felt like I could not breathe...I had a complete and total panic attack. It was terrifying. Don returned to find me begging for help and thrashing around (as much as I could, being numb from the belly down). They injected some really strong drugs and I eventually calmed down and passed out.
I awoke in recovery and drifted in and out while I periodically asked questions and took drinks of water. Joshua spent the time in the NICU.
It took some time to stabilize him, but he did great and was really released quite quickly.
Don wheeled him to me at about 4:30, 3 hours after birth. Joshua was really ready to nurse, but I had to give him a once-over first!
We moved into a post-partum room and spent the entire day alternating between sleeping and eating/feeding Joshua. Don's mom brought the kids up to see him in the afternoon. Here's my two red-headed boys!
Abby did remarkably well for the visit. She got to wear a sticker saying which room she was visiting and decided it looked better on her neck.
At one point, Don plopped her in Joshua's isolet and we all laughed to see our "baby" so crammed into something that she was dwarfed in just a moment ago (or so it seems!). 
My, but they do grow up so fast, don't they?
My aunt and uncle came up in the evening and brought my grandma and grandpa as well. Grandpa is not doing so well anymore, and so it was great to see him come to life so when he held Joshua.
It is a precious picture to me.
Recovery for me went (and is going) so much better than it did with Abby's c-section. I believe that is due, in large part, to the fact that Abby required a good deal of pushing, pulling, tugging and smashing to get her out because of her transverse position. Joshua was a quick slip out. I think the internal trauma was so much less with his.
Joshua's blood sugar had a hard time staying in the safe zone (it was below 40 most of the time) and we ended up staying an extra night because of it. They wanted it to go up and stay up before releasing him. By the time we left, his poor little heels looked just like raw meat, they had been stuck so many times. Through the night, each time they poked him and did the test, Don and I would pray with all our might that it would be a good score and it was just such beautiful words when the nurse would give his new score, each higher than the last and all over the cut-off. By morning, they declared him healthy and ready to go home.
It was a wild ride. I still have a hard time processing all of it. But, I do see God's hand in all of it and I feel like I've been brought through something magnificent (though traumatic at times!) to the other side of being closer to God and closer to Don.
We are now home and resting.
I will try to get back to the blog ASAP to post more pictures (with a lot less words!!) and keep things current. Of course, the garden did not take a vacation while I was gone, so there is much to do around here, both inside and out.
I had reached 43 weeks and 1 day in my pregnancy. While Abby was 10 days late, I secretly hoped that she was only late because of her positioning and that this birth would be different. So when I started having prodromal labor (also called "false labor", but different from Braxton Hicks contractions) at 38.5 weeks, I lived in a continual state of "This could be it!" I couldn't believe it each time when the contractions would fizzle out and we'd begin our wait again. But, miraculously, by the time I'd reached 43 weeks, I'd also reached a place of rest. Oh, I still wanted to get that baby out, but I was no longer a crazed lunatic about it! I figured God had something yet to accomplish before the baby could come and who was I to rush Him?
So, when, at 43 weeks and 1 day, contractions began at dinner time, I paid no real attention to them and just expected them to go away sometime in the night. By 11:15pm, though, I could no longer stay in bed. Contractions were about 6 minutes apart and I really had to breathe through them. Still, I wasn't ready to declare myself "in labor" yet. Been there, done that. So, I just sat up at the computer and tried to distract myself enough to get through them. Eventually, though, I was having trouble getting through them alone and wanted Don's support. I woke him at 2am and told him that today was the day. (That would be Monday morning). After listening to me moan through a few contractions, he knew I was serious and he jumped to life. He started moving things around and preparing our room...even sweeping! He drew me some bath water and I soaked for a while. We eventually called our neighbor who, along with her eldest daughter, had volunteered to come for the birth to help in any capacity needed. They both came for Abby's labor as well. They arrived sometime around 4am. They were both so excited that the day had finally come.
One of the things L, my neighbor, helped with was teaching me to make low moaning sounds through the pain. I had been making higher pitched noises, which she said was natural to do when in pain, but that lower sounds helped the body work better. It took some practice, but I finally allowed myself to make the sounds, which became more natural as the day wore on.
And wore on and on.
In the early morning, I had determined that I was dilated to about 5 cm. L was sure several times that I must be nearing transition as I became more and more agitated about the severe pain I was experiencing. Each contraction brought fire to my back. I could deal with the pain in my abdomen, but the back pain was becoming unbearable. It even caused me to throw up. 
When, at sometime in the afternoon, I found that I was still at about 5 cm, I became completely defeated. I had been awake for nearly 36 hours, struggling through contractions that were unlike any pain I could ever imagine. In the early afternoon, they had gotten to 3 minutes apart, but by this time, they were spacing back out to about 8 minutes apart and I knew I had a long, long way to go. And that is about when I began to lose it.If the birth had been near, I felt like I could go on. But with the contractions spacing back out, and no progress having been made all day, I felt like each contraction was pushing me further over the edge. We spoke with a doctor-friend and he suggested some maneuvers to get the baby to turn from the posterior position (the reason for the intense back pain and slow progress). His suggestion involved positioning through 8 contractions. But at that point, all my energy was completely gone. I couldn't even contemplate how to get through one contraction, let alone eight. Of course, the contractions were coming whether I moved through them or not, but in my mind, I felt like I could somehow stop them. Don and L actually had to move and lift me into each new position, as my arms and legs no longer seemed to work. Caleb came up to hold me and hug me when my sobbing became the new sound they heard. He was so worried about me.
Through much struggle and prayer, we finally decided that I needed help. I knew that if I could just get some rest, I could finish this thing. But rest is unobtainable when every 8 minutes your back becomes a raging ball of fire. I cannot tell you how much Don struggled through this decision. He wanted so much to be in God's will through this whole birth process and knew that the only thing to fear was to move outside of His will. I was much less objective, obviously, but knew that if I would allow him to come to a decision, that I would be secure in his covering. I cannot even explain how much I prayed that his decision would be the one I wanted, and I didn't know how I would continue if it was not, but I knew I had to let him make it. In the end, we decided that I would go to the hospital and get some pain relief, which would allow me to get some rest and enough strength to finish the birth. Our other hope was, that with some pain relief, that we would be able to get the baby to turn out of a posterior position which would ease the descent and speed the process back up. And, of course, that with some relief, that my contractions would pick back up.
We began the trip to Omaha, (our local hospital does not allow VBACs and would've taken me for an immediate c-section, calling in a surgeon from Lincoln), which seemed to take an eternity. We arrived at about 9pm and got right into a room. The nurse verified that I was indeed at 5 cm and shortly after, the doctor on call came in. We told him what we wanted and he agreed, making us very secure that he felt that there was absolutely no reason that I would not have a VBAC. The epidural was given and I immediately began to sleep...resting so well that within just a short time, the doctor returned to check my progress and I was at 8 cm. (My water broke with the exam and it was full of meconium, a normal occurrence with an overdue baby and not alarming to the doctor...they would just have NICU standing by just in case.) The head was still not coming down, though, and a new problem was developing. The baby's heartrate was slowing with each contraction, which is normal, but it was taking a long time to regain its speed. They tried putting me in different positions, giving me oxygen, and everything else they could think of to get the baby more oxygen. Still, the heart rate was not improving. Rather, it was getting slower and slower. The doctor had me try to push, hoping that we could get the head descended and speed the birth, but the posterior position was still holding that head high. Without an immediately impending birth, the doctor felt that a c-section was our only hope of getting the baby out fast enough.
Now, anyone who knows me, knows that I do not have an automatic trust of doctors. I've read too much to accept the fear-pushing that often goes on with doctors. And I know that many times, their advise is based on their own protection (being able to say "I did all I could") or even convenience (inducing because of a "scheduling conflict", for example). And distress of the baby is an overly-used road to a c-section. Of course, that is not to say that all doctors are bad, or that they only think of themselves or anything of the sort. I do believe that in most cases, they are acting in a way they think is completely right. And I am grateful for the service they provide. And, there are genuinely times when the only option to birth a healthy, live baby is to do a c-section. I just think that they are overused, especially in the U.S., and that they are often seen as the only option when they are, in fact, not.
Feeling the way I do, then, made the decision a hard one. Was this a genuine case of distress? Was this the only way? Even now, I do not know. I will never know. Would the baby have been fine if we had waited? Maybe...maybe not. What I do know was that as soon as we gave the go-ahead, I had a sense of peace about it. I knew that we were doing the right thing for us. Perhaps, even, it was the reason we had come, the reason I had felt such a need to get to the hospital. Perhaps. We won't know. What I do know is that though disappointed that I would have a second c-section and worried about the risks it involved for both the baby and me, I was sure that we were heading in the right direction.
They began to quickly prep me for the surgery. Don was given those paper clothes to change into so that he could be there while my epidural was pumped up to completely numb me from belly to toes. The extra drugs in my system, along with my exhaustion and nervousness over the baby's condition, caused me to shake uncontrollably. It was the most frustrating thing. I did get some relief right about the time they were pulling the baby out, which was so good. Don got to glance over the drape to tell me that it was a boy! I was so incredibly happy...especially for Caleb's sake, as he's been praying for a brother for about 2 years now. He emerged at exactly 1:30am and was whisked off to the other room right away. Don left to go see him and I waited to be put back together. At some point, someone called out that he was 9 pounds, 10 ounces and utterances of awe went around the room.
Things started to go bad for me at that point. The shaking returned full-force and I began to feel very panicky. My chest felt tight, my face felt flush, I felt like I could not breathe...I had a complete and total panic attack. It was terrifying. Don returned to find me begging for help and thrashing around (as much as I could, being numb from the belly down). They injected some really strong drugs and I eventually calmed down and passed out.
I awoke in recovery and drifted in and out while I periodically asked questions and took drinks of water. Joshua spent the time in the NICU.
It took some time to stabilize him, but he did great and was really released quite quickly. Don wheeled him to me at about 4:30, 3 hours after birth. Joshua was really ready to nurse, but I had to give him a once-over first!
We moved into a post-partum room and spent the entire day alternating between sleeping and eating/feeding Joshua. Don's mom brought the kids up to see him in the afternoon. Here's my two red-headed boys!
Abby did remarkably well for the visit. She got to wear a sticker saying which room she was visiting and decided it looked better on her neck.
At one point, Don plopped her in Joshua's isolet and we all laughed to see our "baby" so crammed into something that she was dwarfed in just a moment ago (or so it seems!). 
My, but they do grow up so fast, don't they?My aunt and uncle came up in the evening and brought my grandma and grandpa as well. Grandpa is not doing so well anymore, and so it was great to see him come to life so when he held Joshua.
It is a precious picture to me.Recovery for me went (and is going) so much better than it did with Abby's c-section. I believe that is due, in large part, to the fact that Abby required a good deal of pushing, pulling, tugging and smashing to get her out because of her transverse position. Joshua was a quick slip out. I think the internal trauma was so much less with his.
Joshua's blood sugar had a hard time staying in the safe zone (it was below 40 most of the time) and we ended up staying an extra night because of it. They wanted it to go up and stay up before releasing him. By the time we left, his poor little heels looked just like raw meat, they had been stuck so many times. Through the night, each time they poked him and did the test, Don and I would pray with all our might that it would be a good score and it was just such beautiful words when the nurse would give his new score, each higher than the last and all over the cut-off. By morning, they declared him healthy and ready to go home.
It was a wild ride. I still have a hard time processing all of it. But, I do see God's hand in all of it and I feel like I've been brought through something magnificent (though traumatic at times!) to the other side of being closer to God and closer to Don.
We are now home and resting.
I will try to get back to the blog ASAP to post more pictures (with a lot less words!!) and keep things current. Of course, the garden did not take a vacation while I was gone, so there is much to do around here, both inside and out.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
At last...the news you've been waiting for!
Joshua Thomas was born July 14th at 1:30 am. He was a beautiful 9 lbs, 10 oz. and has bright red hair. He ended up coming via emergency c-section. Completely not in our plans, of course, but we are overwhelmed with thankfulness at God's protection and provision through the whole birth. I will post the whole (LONG!) birth story later, in the next day or two. And, I'll get these photos loaded too. I promise. I just didn't want to leave you hanging any longer!
Monday, July 13, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Another week slips by...
Today is 43 weeks. As crazy as that sounds, I'm finding that it really isn't as unusual as it may seem. Nor as dangerous as you may have heard. I've discovered a website with a whole section devoted to "Ten Month Mamas". It has been very encouraging and helpful to read, especially in my more emotional moments.
Today is my Grandma's birthday and she has put in her vote that today be the day. Hey, I'm all for that. But, something tells me I have a bit more to wait. The good news, of course, is that baby is healthy and happy in there (he or she lets me know MANY times a day!) and I'm just waiting on baby to be ready to make that momentous journey out of my womb and into Daddy's arms.
Keep us in your prayers, if you will!
Today is my Grandma's birthday and she has put in her vote that today be the day. Hey, I'm all for that. But, something tells me I have a bit more to wait. The good news, of course, is that baby is healthy and happy in there (he or she lets me know MANY times a day!) and I'm just waiting on baby to be ready to make that momentous journey out of my womb and into Daddy's arms.
Keep us in your prayers, if you will!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Perhaps this will help?
I went to see a chiropractor today. It was my first time, but I had been reading much about how misalignment can hinder the descent of the baby. So, I asked for referrals from friends and went on in. I, amazingly, have had no pain shooting down my leg, as I have had for the last several weeks, since my appointment. Obviously, she fixed something! She also showed Don a pressure point on my foot that might help contractions to start. If nothing else, at least I get my feet rubbed!
Perhaps I'll have some news soon???
Perhaps I'll have some news soon???
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
No news
In this case, no news isn't necessarily good news. I haven't been quiet because I'm having a baby. I've been quiet because in the absence of a baby, there isn't anything else going on worth mentioning! I am just totally consumed with waiting. I'm now 17 days over due...but you know what? My mom went 20 days over with me. What goes around, comes around, I guess. I have taken to bring a newborn diaper, a blanket, my herbal remedies, and a couple of waterproof pads with me whenever we go anywhere farther than about 15 minutes away. The amount of contractions I've been having could amount to a quick labor, so I want to be ready to birth in the car if need be, if we're away from home. And Don doesn't even go up to do pig chores without taking his phone with so I can call him if my water breaks or something. But, for now, we just wait. And wait.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
So, a July baby it is, then...
I seriously never thought I'd get to this point. Long ago, people used to say, "Hey, maybe it'll be a 4th of July baby!" and I'd just respond with a glare. I was not going into July. And yet, here I am.
We canceled the induction. We decided to wait and see.
Patience...it's a virtue, right?
We canceled the induction. We decided to wait and see.
Patience...it's a virtue, right?
Friday, June 26, 2009
Deadline
Please pray...
I have an induction scheduled for July 1st. The doctors are getting antsy, especially as I'm a VBAC and they feel like they are already "allowing" me to do something special. By July 1st, if I haven't gone into labor on my own, I will be forced to decide whether to walk away completely or let them proceed with the induction.
I feel strongly that one intervention leads to another. If I allow an induction, I put myself at risk for a cascading stream of interventions. And, pitocin is the major cause of post-cesarean scar rupture.
So, please pray, if you would, that I would go into labor, the sooner the better, on my own!
I have an induction scheduled for July 1st. The doctors are getting antsy, especially as I'm a VBAC and they feel like they are already "allowing" me to do something special. By July 1st, if I haven't gone into labor on my own, I will be forced to decide whether to walk away completely or let them proceed with the induction.
I feel strongly that one intervention leads to another. If I allow an induction, I put myself at risk for a cascading stream of interventions. And, pitocin is the major cause of post-cesarean scar rupture.
So, please pray, if you would, that I would go into labor, the sooner the better, on my own!
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Due date
Well, my due date is here...and in just a few hours, it will be left behind.
I am almost to the point where I've stopped paying any attention at all to the contractions because they feel so serious, only to leave me hanging. I'll know they are real when the baby comes out, I guess. Until then, I'm not believing they are real any more!
Don has everything planned out and the next available time for the baby to be born is Tuesday. I've put the baby on alert, but I'm not counting on his/her cooperation. Tomorrow, we are having a guest come from Phoenix on his way through, moving to D.C. He was a single guy that came over quite often for dinner and board games when we lived in Arizona. I don't even know how many games of Settlers of Catan we played with him. And then, Monday, Don's mom comes in. Don is hoping to go look at a Jersey cow on Wednesday. Oh, and on Thursday, Don's sister and family will visit on their way out of the country for their next assignment (army) in Germany! We like to cram in a lot of activities around the birth, apparently! So, baby, it's either now or Tuesday, you decide.
Yeah, that will work.
I am almost to the point where I've stopped paying any attention at all to the contractions because they feel so serious, only to leave me hanging. I'll know they are real when the baby comes out, I guess. Until then, I'm not believing they are real any more!
Don has everything planned out and the next available time for the baby to be born is Tuesday. I've put the baby on alert, but I'm not counting on his/her cooperation. Tomorrow, we are having a guest come from Phoenix on his way through, moving to D.C. He was a single guy that came over quite often for dinner and board games when we lived in Arizona. I don't even know how many games of Settlers of Catan we played with him. And then, Monday, Don's mom comes in. Don is hoping to go look at a Jersey cow on Wednesday. Oh, and on Thursday, Don's sister and family will visit on their way out of the country for their next assignment (army) in Germany! We like to cram in a lot of activities around the birth, apparently! So, baby, it's either now or Tuesday, you decide.
Yeah, that will work.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Cruelty
Cruelty is exactly the word for "false labor". It's really not nice to mess with the mind of a woman so pregnant. I'm already at the point where all I can think about is getting this baby OUT and then I go and have 4-5 hours of regular intense contractions that fizzle out to nothing.
Not nice at all.
Not nice at all.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
A conversation
Recent conversation with a store clerk while buying the rest of the garden's wood mulch:
I love it when I can horrify a total stranger.
Clerk: Now, you make sure you put your feet up and have someone else do this for you.
Me: Oh, no. This is my job. But they aren't too heavy.
Clerk: But, you must be ready to have that baby any day now.
Me: Nope, I have about 8 more weeks.
Clerk: Holy cow! (then, hopefully...) Twins?
Me: No.
Clerk: (looks terrified, giggles sheepishly, and then hopes I'm not too offended.)
I love it when I can horrify a total stranger.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Holy Round Ligament Pain, Batman!
Oh, it's that time again. The time in my pregnancy where those pesky round ligaments give up on holding all this weight (all of it baby, of course!) up without complaint. The time where turning over in bed is an exercise in muffling my screams. Ah well...June will be here before I know it and I have plenty to occupy my attention in the meantime. 46 beds of dirt now, 46 beds of plants and weeds and bugs wrestling for control later. I should be sleeping so soundly that nothing could wake me, right?
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
And so we had an ultrasound...
And we didn't find out!!!
After much begging, pleading, debating, deciding, re-deciding, and bribing, we went in and told the tech not to tell us. This is the first time that we will be surprised by the baby's gender. I really can't believe we held firm after all. Caleb truly believes that we are torturing him.
Baby looks really good. He/she was waving a finger at us over his/her head and we got a great frontal view with a gaping wide open mouth...perhaps a yawn? Baby is bottom-down right now, but there is plenty of time to get in the right position.
After much begging, pleading, debating, deciding, re-deciding, and bribing, we went in and told the tech not to tell us. This is the first time that we will be surprised by the baby's gender. I really can't believe we held firm after all. Caleb truly believes that we are torturing him.
Baby looks really good. He/she was waving a finger at us over his/her head and we got a great frontal view with a gaping wide open mouth...perhaps a yawn? Baby is bottom-down right now, but there is plenty of time to get in the right position.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
A decision?
I had my first prenatal appointment yesterday. That is really hard to believe. When I was pregnant with Caleb, I wanted to get in there just as soon as I had tested positive. It's amazing how age and experience sort of mellows you out. I waited until I was 19 weeks, 6 days along for this appointment.
I met with the doctor who was actually the backup doctor for my attempted homebirth with Abby. He is just such a nice guy and so sympathetic to people who don't want to necessarily do things "by the book". My intention was to ask him for a referral to the nurse-midwives at the hospital, but after speaking with him (at length) we decided that we would just remain with his office. He has a female physician that he's trained that I can see on a regular basis, but he will maintain a somewhat supervisory role over the pregnancy. That way, I still get to see a female (which is very important for my comfort level) and yet the "authority" remains with someone who is, by his own admission, more like a midwife than a doctor. If I had transferred to the nurse-midwives, in accordance with Nebraska law, they are all under absolute authority of the OBs in their office and thus my care would ultimately be in the hands of doctors who are most likely more "medically minded" when it comes to birth.
I did mention to him that I do live 90 minutes away and that we would be brushing up on information needed to catch our own baby because if my labor is anything like last time, there is no way I'd know that I was ready until my body said "Push!" My labor was just so easy that I (and the midwife) was shocked to find that I was actually dilating. He agreed. He said that if the baby was lined up correctly, I might not even make it out of the county.
Anyway, we were able to hear the heartbeat for the first time. It is so comforting to hear that whoosh, whoosh, whoosh beating so fast (142 bpm) and to know that everything is okay. He said I am measuring perfectly so far and that baby is quite a squirmer with lots of room to grow. No wonder I grow them so big. He does want to keep an eye on gestational diabetes because of my history of big babies and now my history with Abby of polyhydroamnios (excess amniotic fluid).
I go back in about 2 weeks for an ultrasound. I think we are going to try to be surprised by the gender this time. We'll see if we can stand the suspense.
I met with the doctor who was actually the backup doctor for my attempted homebirth with Abby. He is just such a nice guy and so sympathetic to people who don't want to necessarily do things "by the book". My intention was to ask him for a referral to the nurse-midwives at the hospital, but after speaking with him (at length) we decided that we would just remain with his office. He has a female physician that he's trained that I can see on a regular basis, but he will maintain a somewhat supervisory role over the pregnancy. That way, I still get to see a female (which is very important for my comfort level) and yet the "authority" remains with someone who is, by his own admission, more like a midwife than a doctor. If I had transferred to the nurse-midwives, in accordance with Nebraska law, they are all under absolute authority of the OBs in their office and thus my care would ultimately be in the hands of doctors who are most likely more "medically minded" when it comes to birth.
I did mention to him that I do live 90 minutes away and that we would be brushing up on information needed to catch our own baby because if my labor is anything like last time, there is no way I'd know that I was ready until my body said "Push!" My labor was just so easy that I (and the midwife) was shocked to find that I was actually dilating. He agreed. He said that if the baby was lined up correctly, I might not even make it out of the county.
Anyway, we were able to hear the heartbeat for the first time. It is so comforting to hear that whoosh, whoosh, whoosh beating so fast (142 bpm) and to know that everything is okay. He said I am measuring perfectly so far and that baby is quite a squirmer with lots of room to grow. No wonder I grow them so big. He does want to keep an eye on gestational diabetes because of my history of big babies and now my history with Abby of polyhydroamnios (excess amniotic fluid).
I go back in about 2 weeks for an ultrasound. I think we are going to try to be surprised by the gender this time. We'll see if we can stand the suspense.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Maternity wear
So I've been getting bigger. And bigger. Babies like to grow, it seems.
You may remember when I described my winter farm fashion? The insulated bib overalls?
Yeah, they are getting quite snug. And winter isn't half done. I'm getting a little desperate because when those bibs no longer fit, I'm going to be awfully cold out there doing chores. And apparently, the farm store does not carry a maternity line. I'm not sure why not. They could fit them in right between the enormous calf bottles with 3 inch nipples and the calf puller (tell me that doesn't make forceps look downright gentle).
Alas, it looks like I'm about to experience a more brutal side of farming...the one in which your clothes are inadequate. Or, maybe I can use this as an excuse to get out of chores through the rest of the winter. I doubt it.
You may remember when I described my winter farm fashion? The insulated bib overalls?
Yeah, they are getting quite snug. And winter isn't half done. I'm getting a little desperate because when those bibs no longer fit, I'm going to be awfully cold out there doing chores. And apparently, the farm store does not carry a maternity line. I'm not sure why not. They could fit them in right between the enormous calf bottles with 3 inch nipples and the calf puller (tell me that doesn't make forceps look downright gentle).
Alas, it looks like I'm about to experience a more brutal side of farming...the one in which your clothes are inadequate. Or, maybe I can use this as an excuse to get out of chores through the rest of the winter. I doubt it.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
10 Things That Will NOT Help With Morning Sickness
It seems that every website on pregnancy and childbirth all have hints and tips to keep morning sickness at bay. And while that is all well and good, I thought I'd take a moment to talk about what certainly will NOT help you when you are feeling green. Think of it as a sort of backwards public service announcement.
- Cleaning up after a sick child. Oh sure, you may think that you'll be fine, as it's nothing you haven't done before. But trust me. When you bend over and start to wipe it up, it'll stir up all those smells afresh and you will not be able to get to the bathroom fast enough. And knowing this now, you won't attempt it and just about break your neck in your near-airborne trip down the stairs.
- Butchering a rabbit. Or a chicken. Or anything else for that matter. But my mistake was a rabbit. It's not so much the gutting, surprisingly, as by that time, it is all quite mechanical. But the killing. That is just harder when you are sick. And then the lingering smell that just doesn't seem to wash off your hands. Trust me. Don't do it.
- Cleaning out a clogged shower drain. So it's just hair, right? Shouldn't be that bad. But with that hair comes a sloppy mess of slime that'll be hard to stomach. The upside is that you are already in the bathroom. No extra mess if you lose it.
- Cooking. Just about anything. Why is it that things that smell delicious make you gag when you are pregnant. I don't know. All I know is that food prep of any sort seems to be a trigger for me. Perhaps I can talk Don into a few months of constant meals out?
- Wearing a face mask. This may be a seasonally important warning here, but I discovered this horror while wearing one of those white dust masks while installing insulation in the garage. Breathing stale air just isn't a good thing for those of us who are green.
- Going on a bumpy truck ride through a pasture. Enough said, I do believe.
- Wearing just about anything tight around the waist. It's not pretty. And frankly, as I seem to be showing already, it's really not pretty.
- Eating anything greasy or slimy. Even things that you actually think you'll be able to eat, before you finish your plate, you'll have to stop, force yourself to swallow what's in your mouth, and push your plate away.
- Milking a cow who decides to urinate. Of course, unfortunately, it isn't an isolated event. It seems that cows like to hold it in order to let loose while you are right there. Regardless, a cow can put out a pretty good amount and the smell can be overpowering, even for a cow and a barnyard.
- And lastly, driving by commercial chicken houses. Oh, heaven help me, the smell. I cannot describe it. All I can say is, that is no "Smart Chicken" in there. If they were smart, they'd escape into fresh air.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Subtlety. Apparently I'm good at it.
So I made, what I thought, was a big and obvious announcement in my previous post. Apparently not. I figured that people would instantly make the connection between Abby's shirt and our BIG news. While some people got it right away, I've had a few that didn't notice anything significant.
And so, without further subtleties and innuendos, here is the news:
And so, without further subtleties and innuendos, here is the news:
***I AM PREGNANT!***
I now return you to your regularly scheduled programs.
P.S. I'm due in June.
P.S. I'm due in June.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Abby's new shirt
Hey, Abby, will you pose so I can take a picture of your new shirt?
Abby...that means you have to stay still. For more than 1 second.
Ummm, okay, so you want to come this way? Then will you pose? 
But what about your shirt? 
Ahhh...that's better. Now all these nice people can see your shirt.
Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from Him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are sons born in one's youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.-Psalm 127:3-5
Abby...that means you have to stay still. For more than 1 second.
Ummm, okay, so you want to come this way? Then will you pose? 
But what about your shirt? 
Ahhh...that's better. Now all these nice people can see your shirt.Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from Him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are sons born in one's youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.-Psalm 127:3-5
Monday, November 26, 2007
Abigail's Birth Story
What a wild ride this has been. It was an occasion filled with odd-defying turns of events and surprises for us. I'll start as near to the beginning as I can. Strap yourself in, cause this will be a long post. But, I promise to sprinkle it with pictures and I hope you'll stick with me to the sweet, sweet end.
On Tuesday, Nov 20th, I called the midwife. Man, you know how impatient I'd been, but I was starting to worry about interrupting everyone's Thanksgiving plans, the size of the baby, and the timing of our insurance (our Tricare coverage was ending as Don's official time with the military is now complete!). So, I called and asked what they (she and her assistant) thought about breaking my water if she was in a good position. They had been discussing the same thing and we agreed it seemed like a logical course of action. They arrived at our house a little before 4pm and did an exam. Abby's head was still down, she had dropped lower, and everything looked great. The bag of waters was bulging ahead and preventing her head from compressing the cervix, which is why I had been having so many false starts to labor. After hearing stories about amazingly quick births after breaking the water, we decided to get Don home and get set up before doing it. We also got a picture in of my 41 weeks plus 3 days big belly. As it turned out, I had what is called polyhydramnios, or excess water. This occurs, apparently, in only .5-2% of births. There were over 4 pounds of water that came gushing out! Whew! I actually fainted shortly after the water was broken! I don't know quite what happened there. Perhaps it was just too much for my body to comprehend at the moment. Anyway, we took an after shot of my belly and were amazed at the difference in the 2 pictures.
Here they are. The top is before and the bottom is after. I feel like it looks like I went backward in time a month or two!
So anyway, my water was broken at 4:55pm on the 20th. I was, at the time, about 4 cm dilated. My contractions began quickly, but they were fairly few and far between. I didn't spend a whole lot of time or effort timing them, but the midwives had their eye on the clock. They declared that I had moved into active labor by around 6pm. The contractions were very easy. The midwives kept me up and moving to try to intensify things, but I never moved past the stage were I just needed to stop walking and focus through a contraction. I wasn't focusing so much because of pain, but just to keep myself relaxed and because it was just intuitive. I felt the need to stop and let my body do it's work before moving on. The midwife did several exams with me, which is unusual, but they were worried that I wasn't dilating as I should be because my demeanor was so calm and I never declared pain. But, all along, I continued to dilate and by 6 cm, they let me get in the birth pool. It was so calm and pleasant and I was really enjoying myself. At this point, we called our neighbors, Lesa and Hannah, over. Lesa is the mom of 9 (with a few home births under her belt) and Hannah is her 16-year old daughter. They were planning on helping us through the labor with whatever needed to be done. Lesa, the midwife, her assistant, and I sat around chatting while I was in the pool, but the contractions started to slow a little and they ordered me out. It was back to pacing around for me. I also spent some time on the birth stool and the birth ball trying to encourage Abby to descend.
Here I am at about 9 cm dilated on the birth ball. I was talking and laughing between contractions, focusing during, and all the while, just completely amazed that I was still not in what I would consider pain. When I compare all this to my other 2 births, it makes me think that pitocin must have been invented by the devil himself. With the other 2, I was in tears and agony from the start of hard contractions.
This whole time, Caleb really made himself pretty scarce. He was uncomfortable with seeing too much of me. He was willing and ready to come see the birth, but didn't want to have to see all the "before" stuff. He spent most of his time downstairs playing games or watching movies with Hannah, the neighbor. But, he did come up regularly and, backing his way in so he wouldn't seen anything, ask if everything was alright and if we needed anything. He was so cute.
Meagan, however, was excited beyond belief to share in every bit of labor. She watched every exam and was so incredibly helpful in getting whatever was needed. She wants to become a midwife when she grows up. However, things started to drag on into the later hours, and even an aspiring midwife needs her sleep!
We suggested she lay down in our bed so that she'd be nearby and we could wake her easily if anything exciting happened. She agreed and, within minutes, was snoring. She remained there for quite a while, sleeping soundly while I was getting examined in the same bed and we were all talking and laughing around her.
At around 8 cm, the midwife had felt and elbow come to the opening. Her head was still there, but her elbow was coming first. The midwife said that it would mean that she would probably need to help pull the arm out first as Abby crowned in order to give room for her head to follow. I continued to progress to 10 cm, but by 10 cm, the midwife could no longer find Abby's head there with her elbow. It felt as if Abby's head had moved over and was sitting off to the side. We talked about just waiting to see what happens, but the midwife suggested that the best course of action would be to go to the hospital at this point. She was concerned about the cord being able to slip down through now that Abby's head was not there to block it. She also felt that with an ultrasound, they might be able to manipulate Abby back into position.
At 2am, the morning of the 21st, we left for the drive to Omaha. There was no emergency, as both Abby and I were doing fine, so we just drove, with the midwife and her assistant following. We arrived at the hospital at about 3:30am, and were put into a small room where only Don could be with me. The backup doctor (family practice) who I had seen earlier, had not arrived yet, but one of his partners came in and examined me and did an ultrasound. The ultrasound showed that Abby had completely turned and was now transverse. Her head and feet were out to the sides and her spine was down and across the cervix. Transverse presentation happens in only 1 n 2500 births. Unfortunately, unlike other breech presentations, there is only 1 way to get that baby out and that is by C-section. Other breeches can still be delivered normally, although many physicians will not attempt it. However, a transverse, especially one at this stage of labor, just won't come. When the doctor told me this, I started to cry. This was so far removed from the serene home birth that I had wanted. But, I was comforted by this...when I started to cry, the doctor did as well. I have never seen such empathy in a doctor before. He knew I had attempted a home birth and knew how disappointed I was. He said that he would've delivered any other type of breech, even when others wouldn't. But, he just couldn't make this happen. The midwife (who was now considered my doula since walking through the doors of the hospital) was able to stick her head in and cry a little with me as well. But, they wouldn't let her stay in the room and we told her to go home and rest. We would call when it was over.
The began to prep me for surgery and Don and I were emotional wrecks. At one point, the doctor came in to explain some things and told us that there was a slight possibility that he may need to make a vertical cut as well in order to pull her out, as she was in such a bad position. This would mean that I could never labor again. Through tears and prayers, Don and I readied ourselves for the surgery.
Don was able to sit in with me through the surgery. I have never felt anything as uniquely bizarre as that C-section. The pulling and tugging and pushing was so strange. Don remembers the doctor saying that an arm popped out immediately when they cut into the uterus. This made the doctor concerned because he wanted something more substantial to pull on than an arm, but she made it out ok. I knew that she was out and heard her give a little whimper. Of course, the tears came again! I got a tiny peek of her before they whisked her off to another room. She was having trouble getting going and needed some oxygen. They worked on her for a while, while the doctors worked on putting me back together. They did bring her back in and laid her on my chest for a few moments for me to kiss and look at. She was beautiful.
Don then was able to go with Abby (and I told him to!) while they finished on me. I laid there and listened to them talk about the stitches and counting the instruments. They lost one for a few moments and the whole room stopped doing anything else until it was found (it had been hiding in the placenta!) which made me a little relieved. I didn't want to be one of those who comes home with a pair of scissors sewn up inside! I got back to the recovery room and Don, with Abby, was just a few seconds behind me. And, here she was.
It was so different not seeing her right away after being born, as I had done with the other 2. I know I will continue to mourn the loss of many things I had wanted in this birth, and that is one of them...seeing her emerge. But, I am so grateful that she made it through everything just fine.
Don got to hold her and even catch some shut-eye while we waited for our permanent room. And yes, that is a beard he is sporting.
Here I am, holding my precious baby.
We got into our new room and almost immediately, it began to snow. It was so beautiful to see the large flakes outside the window. Abby's birthday was the first snow of the season. You can see a little accumulation here on the roof.
Recovery was fairly uneventful. I did end up needing a transfusion, but that went smoothly. I will say that C-section recovery is in a whole other league from a normal recovery. It has been much harder.
My dad came to see his 3rd grandchild.
And the kids loved holding their new sister.
But, I held her as much as I possibly could. She was, by far, the best-looking newborn we've had, since her head didn't have to be squeezed through a small opening. She is just perfectly beautiful.
We left the hospital Thanksgiving evening, about 36 hours later. I just wanted to get home and get our family back together again. And, I knew I would recover better in my own home.
I did end up developing a "spinal headache" from the spinal they gave me for the surgery. To combat that, I'm on some pretty strong narcotics. Therefore, I apologize for anything that isn't coherent! Now, I must go and feed my little baby. Thanks for hanging in there with me through the story!
Abigail Ruth
born 5:31 am, November 21st, 2007
weighing 9 lbs, 7 oz and 21.5 inches long
precious gift of God
On Tuesday, Nov 20th, I called the midwife. Man, you know how impatient I'd been, but I was starting to worry about interrupting everyone's Thanksgiving plans, the size of the baby, and the timing of our insurance (our Tricare coverage was ending as Don's official time with the military is now complete!). So, I called and asked what they (she and her assistant) thought about breaking my water if she was in a good position. They had been discussing the same thing and we agreed it seemed like a logical course of action. They arrived at our house a little before 4pm and did an exam. Abby's head was still down, she had dropped lower, and everything looked great. The bag of waters was bulging ahead and preventing her head from compressing the cervix, which is why I had been having so many false starts to labor. After hearing stories about amazingly quick births after breaking the water, we decided to get Don home and get set up before doing it. We also got a picture in of my 41 weeks plus 3 days big belly. As it turned out, I had what is called polyhydramnios, or excess water. This occurs, apparently, in only .5-2% of births. There were over 4 pounds of water that came gushing out! Whew! I actually fainted shortly after the water was broken! I don't know quite what happened there. Perhaps it was just too much for my body to comprehend at the moment. Anyway, we took an after shot of my belly and were amazed at the difference in the 2 pictures.
Here they are. The top is before and the bottom is after. I feel like it looks like I went backward in time a month or two!So anyway, my water was broken at 4:55pm on the 20th. I was, at the time, about 4 cm dilated. My contractions began quickly, but they were fairly few and far between. I didn't spend a whole lot of time or effort timing them, but the midwives had their eye on the clock. They declared that I had moved into active labor by around 6pm. The contractions were very easy. The midwives kept me up and moving to try to intensify things, but I never moved past the stage were I just needed to stop walking and focus through a contraction. I wasn't focusing so much because of pain, but just to keep myself relaxed and because it was just intuitive. I felt the need to stop and let my body do it's work before moving on. The midwife did several exams with me, which is unusual, but they were worried that I wasn't dilating as I should be because my demeanor was so calm and I never declared pain. But, all along, I continued to dilate and by 6 cm, they let me get in the birth pool. It was so calm and pleasant and I was really enjoying myself. At this point, we called our neighbors, Lesa and Hannah, over. Lesa is the mom of 9 (with a few home births under her belt) and Hannah is her 16-year old daughter. They were planning on helping us through the labor with whatever needed to be done. Lesa, the midwife, her assistant, and I sat around chatting while I was in the pool, but the contractions started to slow a little and they ordered me out. It was back to pacing around for me. I also spent some time on the birth stool and the birth ball trying to encourage Abby to descend.
Here I am at about 9 cm dilated on the birth ball. I was talking and laughing between contractions, focusing during, and all the while, just completely amazed that I was still not in what I would consider pain. When I compare all this to my other 2 births, it makes me think that pitocin must have been invented by the devil himself. With the other 2, I was in tears and agony from the start of hard contractions.This whole time, Caleb really made himself pretty scarce. He was uncomfortable with seeing too much of me. He was willing and ready to come see the birth, but didn't want to have to see all the "before" stuff. He spent most of his time downstairs playing games or watching movies with Hannah, the neighbor. But, he did come up regularly and, backing his way in so he wouldn't seen anything, ask if everything was alright and if we needed anything. He was so cute.
Meagan, however, was excited beyond belief to share in every bit of labor. She watched every exam and was so incredibly helpful in getting whatever was needed. She wants to become a midwife when she grows up. However, things started to drag on into the later hours, and even an aspiring midwife needs her sleep!
We suggested she lay down in our bed so that she'd be nearby and we could wake her easily if anything exciting happened. She agreed and, within minutes, was snoring. She remained there for quite a while, sleeping soundly while I was getting examined in the same bed and we were all talking and laughing around her.At around 8 cm, the midwife had felt and elbow come to the opening. Her head was still there, but her elbow was coming first. The midwife said that it would mean that she would probably need to help pull the arm out first as Abby crowned in order to give room for her head to follow. I continued to progress to 10 cm, but by 10 cm, the midwife could no longer find Abby's head there with her elbow. It felt as if Abby's head had moved over and was sitting off to the side. We talked about just waiting to see what happens, but the midwife suggested that the best course of action would be to go to the hospital at this point. She was concerned about the cord being able to slip down through now that Abby's head was not there to block it. She also felt that with an ultrasound, they might be able to manipulate Abby back into position.
At 2am, the morning of the 21st, we left for the drive to Omaha. There was no emergency, as both Abby and I were doing fine, so we just drove, with the midwife and her assistant following. We arrived at the hospital at about 3:30am, and were put into a small room where only Don could be with me. The backup doctor (family practice) who I had seen earlier, had not arrived yet, but one of his partners came in and examined me and did an ultrasound. The ultrasound showed that Abby had completely turned and was now transverse. Her head and feet were out to the sides and her spine was down and across the cervix. Transverse presentation happens in only 1 n 2500 births. Unfortunately, unlike other breech presentations, there is only 1 way to get that baby out and that is by C-section. Other breeches can still be delivered normally, although many physicians will not attempt it. However, a transverse, especially one at this stage of labor, just won't come. When the doctor told me this, I started to cry. This was so far removed from the serene home birth that I had wanted. But, I was comforted by this...when I started to cry, the doctor did as well. I have never seen such empathy in a doctor before. He knew I had attempted a home birth and knew how disappointed I was. He said that he would've delivered any other type of breech, even when others wouldn't. But, he just couldn't make this happen. The midwife (who was now considered my doula since walking through the doors of the hospital) was able to stick her head in and cry a little with me as well. But, they wouldn't let her stay in the room and we told her to go home and rest. We would call when it was over.
The began to prep me for surgery and Don and I were emotional wrecks. At one point, the doctor came in to explain some things and told us that there was a slight possibility that he may need to make a vertical cut as well in order to pull her out, as she was in such a bad position. This would mean that I could never labor again. Through tears and prayers, Don and I readied ourselves for the surgery.
Don was able to sit in with me through the surgery. I have never felt anything as uniquely bizarre as that C-section. The pulling and tugging and pushing was so strange. Don remembers the doctor saying that an arm popped out immediately when they cut into the uterus. This made the doctor concerned because he wanted something more substantial to pull on than an arm, but she made it out ok. I knew that she was out and heard her give a little whimper. Of course, the tears came again! I got a tiny peek of her before they whisked her off to another room. She was having trouble getting going and needed some oxygen. They worked on her for a while, while the doctors worked on putting me back together. They did bring her back in and laid her on my chest for a few moments for me to kiss and look at. She was beautiful.
Don then was able to go with Abby (and I told him to!) while they finished on me. I laid there and listened to them talk about the stitches and counting the instruments. They lost one for a few moments and the whole room stopped doing anything else until it was found (it had been hiding in the placenta!) which made me a little relieved. I didn't want to be one of those who comes home with a pair of scissors sewn up inside! I got back to the recovery room and Don, with Abby, was just a few seconds behind me. And, here she was.
It was so different not seeing her right away after being born, as I had done with the other 2. I know I will continue to mourn the loss of many things I had wanted in this birth, and that is one of them...seeing her emerge. But, I am so grateful that she made it through everything just fine.
Don got to hold her and even catch some shut-eye while we waited for our permanent room. And yes, that is a beard he is sporting.
Here I am, holding my precious baby.
We got into our new room and almost immediately, it began to snow. It was so beautiful to see the large flakes outside the window. Abby's birthday was the first snow of the season. You can see a little accumulation here on the roof.Recovery was fairly uneventful. I did end up needing a transfusion, but that went smoothly. I will say that C-section recovery is in a whole other league from a normal recovery. It has been much harder.
My dad came to see his 3rd grandchild.
And the kids loved holding their new sister.
But, I held her as much as I possibly could. She was, by far, the best-looking newborn we've had, since her head didn't have to be squeezed through a small opening. She is just perfectly beautiful.We left the hospital Thanksgiving evening, about 36 hours later. I just wanted to get home and get our family back together again. And, I knew I would recover better in my own home.
I did end up developing a "spinal headache" from the spinal they gave me for the surgery. To combat that, I'm on some pretty strong narcotics. Therefore, I apologize for anything that isn't coherent! Now, I must go and feed my little baby. Thanks for hanging in there with me through the story!
Abigail Ruth
born 5:31 am, November 21st, 2007
weighing 9 lbs, 7 oz and 21.5 inches long
precious gift of God
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)