It has been nearly seven weeks since I delivered Sticky Bun and my memories are fading. I had better write down what I remember before I forget. And, yes, I totally have baby brain. My vocabulary has significantly decreased and I talk like English isn't my first language. How sad that it's not only my first but my only.
I wondered if I should even write this all down because, from what I understand, women are programmed to forget all the trauma. Evidently, when my baby becomes a toddler, some part of my brain is going activate fire alarm blasts and scream at me, "You want another baby! You NEED another baby!" But I've gone this far so why not write the rest?
Sometime after 7:00am, I was prepped and ready to go to the O.R. The Man would join me shortly after he changed into scrubs. I was scared but thank goodness the epidural was strong. I really didn't feel much down there. I said goodbye to my mom and Patti. The plan was that the hubby would stay with me until Sticky Bun was out. Once SB left the O.R., as long as she was healthy, The Man would stay with her while my doula would then come into the O.R. and stay with me until I was done.
A mention about my mom. I didn't know if she would be around when I gave birth. My dad and she planned to attend a wedding in New York a week before I was due. I also knew that she wasn't big on the Natural Birth route so those two factors had made me want to seek out a doula. Well, she surprised me by being really calm and respecting my decisions ... although I know she thought it was INSANE that I didn't want the epidural right away. But I wasn't sure how she would handle me (or at least, parts of me) being inside out so I stuck with the original plan of having the doula there after The Man left.
I don't remember what I was thinking while I was being rolled into the O.R. I know I was scared. I'm the type of gal that looks away when my blood is being drawn. I don't faint but I sure as heck don't want to see the process.
There were a lot of people in the O.R. They were all friendly and calm because this wasn't an emergency C-Section. It was just unplanned ... for me. I asked if there would be a cover so I wouldn't see the surgery. Please tell me that the separator wasn't just on TV shows!!! Dr. Stephens assured me that there was a big sheet that went up, separating me from the operation. I was glad. I didn't want The Man to see the operation either. I know some of you will not agree but I can't help it. There is a certain modesty I have and while I have exchanged vows with him and he is my very bestest friend in the whole wide world, I did NOT want him to see my innards. What if he could never get that image out of his head? So much for intimacy. Perhaps it is completely irrational of me but how could he ever think I was sexy after that? It just felt like that would be too much. If I didn't want to see myself all cut up, I sure as heck didn't want someone I love (my husband, my mom, my dad ... anyone) to see me like that.
The sheet separator was no joke. They erected (and yes, erected is the perfect word) this huge sheet wall near my head. I couldn't see anything or anyone on the other side of it. A new anaesthesiologist introduced himself to me and said he was going to numb me so I wouldn't feel a thing. He wasn't, however, going to make me drowsy because he didn't want the baby drowsy. I was glad he said that because I did want my baby to be alert. I had learned that this would help the baby latch more easily than if she was drowsy from drugs.
After a few moments, Dr. Stephens said that they were ready. I was a bit out of it but I panicked. My husband was still not in the room. It was hard to talk by then but I spoke up and asked them to please wait for my husband. Where was my husband? One of the staff said that he was coming soon. In the meantime, Dr. Stephens said they were going to do a test to make sure I couldn't feel anything.
"Do you feel this?"
"No."
"Do you feel this?"
"No."
"Do you feel this?"
"Yes. Yes! I feel that!"
I will never forget how terrified I was that I could feel that pinch. Because I swear Dr. Stephens was ready to cut me open.
The anaesthesiologist even sounded surprised when he asked, "You really felt that?"
"Yes! It's on my right side. I felt that pinch! I felt it. I felt it!"
The anaesthesiologist said, "Let's wait a few moments." My doula later told me that the anaesthesiologist gave me more drugs and numbed further up my body because I had felt that pinch on my right side. I didn't mind, though, because I was petrified at the thought of being able to feel my C-section procedure. The one adverse reaction that made things difficult for me was I couldn't breathe. When I was prepped, I was given oxygen through the nose. Once they had numbed more parts of my body, I found it truly difficult to breathe. I was gasping, trying to suck in as much air as possible but couldn't. The staff didn't seem concerned so I guess I was getting enough oxygen but it certainly didn't feel like it.
I asked one of the nurses if I could change to an oxygen mask. They changed it for me but it was still incredibly difficult to breathe. It felt like they were going to start and still no husband. I was so relieved when I heard him enter the room. The Man asked me how I was doing and, for the life of me, I can't remember my answer. I do recall that once Dr. Stephens started and I could feel a tugging sensation, I felt sick and wanted to be distracted. I told him to talk about something. Anything. Just to talk so I could focus on something else. No, I don't remember what he was saying. I remember trying to ignore the tugging. I don't know if it was her pulling back my skin or if it was my insides being pulled out but there was a constant tugging feel and I hated it. I know The Man and I were trying to carry on a insignificant conversation.
Then we all heard a small baby cry. Almost like a kitten. I don't know who said it but I heard, "Congratulations! That's your baby girl. And look at all that hair!"
At 7:32am, that was when The Man had The Moment. The very moment that the almost ten months led us up to, that the entire night led us up to, the very moment he realized that the cry we had heard was our daughter. And I'm so happy for him that he had this moment. And I'm fine that I didn't. I was too doped up and trying too hard to breathe to have The Moment. I remember saying something to The Man like,
"Did you hear her? That's our daughter crying."
Then one of the nurses told him to cut the umbilical cord. He got up and was able to see her first. When he returned, I asked him how she looked and I'm pretty sure he said beautiful. He later told me that he almost cried, he was so happy. And for the rest of my life I will be glad that he had that moment.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
Ahh, the official kick off holiday to Christmas season! Love it!
I've been meaning to finish the Birth Story but it takes time. And I realize that the second entry in that little series sounded bitter. Well, it wasn't horrible but it definitely wasn't the most fun I've had. So I want to be in a really positive state when I write the ending. I also had some post partum blues that I want to write about because it's something not a lot of mommies talk/write about.
I want to also write about Sticky Bun. She is getting quite a personality and she makes me laugh, even in the middle of the night when I'm tired. She has so many quirky noises and looks. She recently started giving me this "What you talkin' about, Willis?" look and I have no idea where it came from! She also has these facial expressions when she's pooping. I don't really need those faces to tell, though, because I can HEAR her poop. It's like her butt is percolating but instead of coffee, it's poop. And I'm waiting, well, we're ALL waiting, to see a real smile. Because I think it will be beautiful.
Anyway, those are the things that are in my head but want to write down. But that will all have to wait. Because I need to seize the day (or this moment) and take the opportunity to take a shower.
Happy Thanksgiving, my dear small group of blog friends! It's hard to believe that we've been reading each other for YEARS. And it's one of the things I'm thankful for ... I love you guys!
I've been meaning to finish the Birth Story but it takes time. And I realize that the second entry in that little series sounded bitter. Well, it wasn't horrible but it definitely wasn't the most fun I've had. So I want to be in a really positive state when I write the ending. I also had some post partum blues that I want to write about because it's something not a lot of mommies talk/write about.
I want to also write about Sticky Bun. She is getting quite a personality and she makes me laugh, even in the middle of the night when I'm tired. She has so many quirky noises and looks. She recently started giving me this "What you talkin' about, Willis?" look and I have no idea where it came from! She also has these facial expressions when she's pooping. I don't really need those faces to tell, though, because I can HEAR her poop. It's like her butt is percolating but instead of coffee, it's poop. And I'm waiting, well, we're ALL waiting, to see a real smile. Because I think it will be beautiful.
Anyway, those are the things that are in my head but want to write down. But that will all have to wait. Because I need to seize the day (or this moment) and take the opportunity to take a shower.
Happy Thanksgiving, my dear small group of blog friends! It's hard to believe that we've been reading each other for YEARS. And it's one of the things I'm thankful for ... I love you guys!
Friday, November 06, 2009
Birth Story Part II
My parents were the first to arrive at the hospital. To give The Man credit, he was the one who called my parents, then our doula and then ran all over the house to pack everything that I hadn't included in my bag- The Office DVDs, The IT Crowd DVDs, DVD player, pita chips and I don't know what else but enough to fill two backpacks in addition to the one that I pre-packed.
I was lying in bed in my own hospital suite (thank goodness for the small miracle that my Kaiser has single rooms) when my parents walked in. My mom said in a sympathetic voice, "Hiiii Baby ..." and I broke down crying. My poor dad didn't know what to do with himself as my mom came over, enveloped me in a hug and said, "I know, this isn't how you planned it to be, is it?" And I just cried. My dad patted my leg. I don't think I was crying because I was disappointed in how things were turning out. I was scared out of my mind. I thought I had a week! It was my first day of maternity leave, for crap's sake! I thought when it was my time to labor, I would be in the house or somewhere nearby when I would feel contractions. Instead, I was a measly one centimeter dilated and given less than 24 hours to go into active labor or they were going to do it for me. Damn.
Oh, the doctor who admitted me, Dr. Fogarty, had finally asked me if I had eaten. I guess I could have told a nurse or doctor earlier but I hadn’t. So I told him no and he promised he would get me a real meal (not some stupid popsicle, chicken broth or something else on the water diet.) While it wasn't delicious, I finally got to eat around 6:00pm. It was some sort of bland cafeteria-looking food so thank goodness The Man intended to bring me pita chips.
He arrived shortly after my parents armed with all the backpacks. I had gotten out all my tears with my mom so I wasn't a sobbing mess when he entered the room. He didn't know what to do after kissing me and giving me a hug so he unpacked the three bags. My doula arrived soon after. Small world, Patti actually knew Dr. Fogarty and he told her that because I had preeclampsia, they needed to be very careful with my labor and delivery. He wanted to monitor my blood pressure and make sure the baby was out in a reasonable amount of time.
Dr. Fogarty came into my room soon after my doula arrived to discuss his plan. He wanted start off trying to induce my labor by breaking my bag of waters first with the hope that it would start contractions. If that was not enough to get the labor started, he then wanted to start pitocin. He said I was already dilated to two centimeters at this point and my cervix was soft which was promising. I told him that I needed some time to talk to The Man and my doula.
After he left the room, I asked my doula, Patti, what she thought about everything he said. She told me that having preeclampsia was not something to really mess around with and the baby did need to be delivered sooner than later but there were some things we could do to help get it going naturally. She said that breaking the bag of waters was a less invasive way to start and then we could get up and walk around and so some acupressure work to help move things along. Guess there was no way around it. I was going to have the contraption that looked like an effin' crochet hook.
Dr. Fogarty came back and said he wanted the nurse to get an IV started before he broke my water. A few words about the IV. Mary, my nurse, came in about 7:30 p.m. to start the IV. I really liked Mary - she was pleasant and encouraged me to ask lots of questions, especially to the doctors. But she couldn't start an IV for the life of her. At least, on me. From the get go, the needle hurt like a mother effer. She said that this was normal (it’s not) and that if I iced it, it would get better. Like hell it did. But I'll get back to that.
Dr. Fogarty returned at 7:56 p.m. to break my water. From what I understand, you're not supposed to feel pain. I know I was freaked out because, well, the apparatus really does look like a super long crochet hook. Imagine that going up your hooha. And I remember feeling pain. It certainly was incredibly uncomfortable. And afterwards, it was non-stop flowing warm fluid coming from me. That was a very weird sensation because it seriously was non-stop. It flowed for a while and then subsided. But I would shift in bed and would feel a lot more warm fluid come out. I coughed, more warm fluid. Heaven help me whenever I needed to get up and use the bathroom. I thought I was going to make a mess through the humongous pads they gave me. And they actually had me wearing TWO at a time. (Now that I think about, why didn't they just give me an adult diaper?) And every time I got up, I hated looking at the pad on the bed. It was always filled w/ clear fluid and blood. I know I shouldn't have been embarrassed but I was.
Back to the IV. It still hurt like a bitch. I thought that this was normal because I'm a weenie. But Patti said, no, you shouldn't be feeling it. She encouraged me to tell Nurse Mary so I did. After going through three ice packs, I finally requested for it to be moved due to the pain. It was about 8:10 p.m by this time. My doula gave me a foot massage and worked on some acupressure points that were supposed to help with going into active labor while we waited for the other nurse to come in to change the IV. It was a nice distraction. The Man asked me if I wanted to watch episodes of The Office and I definitely wanted as many distractions as possible so I said yes. Patti didn't tell me then but she told me later that she noticed on the monitor that I was having contractions, but they were very mild because I didn't really feel them.
At 9:05 p.m., a new doctor named Dr. Stephens introduced herself and let me know she would be taking over for Dr. Fogarty. She then explained that she wanted to start pitocin if my contractions didn’t get into a regular pattern within 2 hours of having her water broken. This meant she would actually want to start pitocin in just an hour, at 10:00pm, because my water was broken around 8:00pm.
From the books and the classes my husband and I took, I feel like we were taught to fear pitocin. Because once the pitocin came, stronger-than-ever-contractions would come and then I would need an epidural which through out any chance of laboring naturally. Now, let me be clear. I was indifferent to the epidural. I planned on trying to labor without it but if I needed it, I would take it. The pitocin, however, sounded like hell and why would I want to put myself through that?
So I asked Dr. Stephens if we could delay the pitocin and be given the opportunity to walk around the halls to help get things moving more naturally. In my doula's words, "Dr. Stephens seemed a little irritated at this." But she begrudgingly agreed to wait and see what would happen in the next few hours with my contractions. After the doctor left, I was a little ticked off by her attitude. Well, as ticked off as one can be while incredibly uncomfortable and leaking uncontrollably. Maybe the better term would be "turned off." In those classes we took, we were taught to ask questions and feel entitled to get answers. Heck, EMPOWERED because it's my body, after all.
Then I thought back to my birth plan and I could have sworn I requested a midwife over a doctor. I asked Patti if she could go into the hallway and flag down Nurse Mary. I felt comfortable enough with the nurse (because she had encouraged me to talk to the doctor and ask why whenever I felt it was necessary) to let her know I wasn't feeling this doctor. My doula stepped out into the hall and asked if Mary was available to answer some questions and to find out about getting the IV changed because nobody had come in yet to do it.
What was odd was that another nurse named Maria came into the room instead and said she could answer the questions I had for Mary. Well, I didn't know this Maria chick from a bucket of water and she was kind of pushy. Great. I asked if Mary was available and Maria said she could answer any questions I had. So in the nicest way possible, because I didn't want to be on the Dr. Stephens' bad side if I was stuck with her, I told Maria I would prefer a midwife. Maria asked if I had any medical complications with my pregnancy (um, couldn't she have read my chart?) When I told her I was just diagnosed with preeclampsia. Maria said that was considered a medical complication so I would have to be cared for by an OB. Damn.
I said OK because what else could I say but then asked again about getting my IV replaced. It was still really hurting. Maria said she would do it, but I told her Mary had asked someone else to do it. Maria seemed to insist she would take care of moving the IV and went to get everything she needed. When she came back she turned all the lights up and removed the first IV. What do you know, Maria was unable to get a second IV started and created a pretty big bruise on my right wrist where the first IV was because of the pressure created. I looked like I was a victim of domestic abuse. No ... seriously, the bruise was huge and spread up my arm from my wrist. I felt like telling her she should have practiced on an orange, not me, if she wanted to learn now to do IVs.
Finally, at 9:35 p.m. Maria said she could not get a new IV started and asked if I wanted and anesthesiologist to come in and start one for me. WTF do you think? Especially when my mom said that anesthesiologists were pros at putting in needles, it was just that IVs are kind of beneath them. So this guy named Mike came in about 10 p.m. and was a breath of fresh air. He joked around and was really easy to talk to. He also told me about the epidural and that he would be on tonight to give her one if I wanted. And let me just add that the IV Mike put in was painless. I did not feel a thing. Bless that guy's heart. And curses to Maria. (I liked Mary and while her IV made me incredibly uncomfortable, I wish her no ill will because she apologized over and over about it.)
At 10:20 p.m. Dr. Stephens came back into the room and said she wanted to start pitocin. Still terrified, I asked for some time to walk around because I had been stuck in bed this whole time while waiting for someone to come in and change my IV. Dr. Stephens said she would give me one hour to walk and see if the contractions would increase because she had to go into the OR for another C-section. So The Man, the doula and I were off to walk the halls while my mom hung back in my suite. You may be wondering what happened to my dad. I was only allowed to have three guests so he was in the waiting room. During that time, he also went out and brought my husband some food from a fast food restaurant. So The Man left us briefly to join my dad in the waiting room to eat.
By this time, I was walking pretty slow. The contractions weren't terribly strong but they slowed me down. So did my leaking and the two huge pads I had to wear. We walked several laps throughout the quiet halls of Labor & Delivery and Postpartum. The Man caught up to us after about three laps. My dad decided to go home and my mom decided to stay the night since she was allowed to stay in my room. The Man joined our little walkabout just as my contractions got a little stronger. But I was still really early in my labor. My doula was pooped from working all day and, knowing I still had a ways to go, asked if she could go to a nearby friend’s house to sleep for a little bit. We were to call her as soon as things progressed. She left at about 11 p.m.
Dr. Stephens returned soon after Patti left and I agreed to start the pitocin. Holy Mary, Mother of Pearl ... my contractions got a lot stronger. My mom hugged me or held my hand through the tough ones, especially when I started to cry. The Man felt bad for me and tried to comfort me too. At about 2:40am, I was in a lot of pain by then and told the hubby it was time for our doula to come back.
Patti arrived back at the hospital at 3:00 a.m. and I was sitting on the bed working through a contraction. When the contraction finished, Dr. Stephens checked my cervix and I was dilated to three centimeters. Only THREE EFFIN' CENTIMETERS. My mind was at the point of "bring me the GD epidural." My husband was surprised by this because he thought I was handling the contractions pretty well. To hell with handling, I thought. I wanted the epidural. I was tired and 12 hours had gone by since my supposed routine doctor's appointment. I wanted the bloody epidural.
By 3:30 a.m. the anesthesiologist came in. I was only allowed one guest while he administered the epidural. My mom and doula left and waited in the waiting room until everything was finished. It was a different anesthesiologist but he seemed competent. It was a weird procedure because I had to position myself just right for him to weave it into my back. I'm sure there's a better, clinical term for it but that's what it felt like, he was weaving a needle in and out of my spine. They had numbed the area so it didn’t hurt too much. The liquid felt cool but I was relieved that I wouldn't be feeling much pain for much longer.
My mom and doula were brought back to the room at 4:00 a.m. and, by this time, I was shivering and my legs were tingling. I guess these are normal side effects. The nurse kept having me switch sides for the next 20 minutes or so to make sure the epidural had a nice even effect. And the epidural started to kick in around 5:00 a.m. Hallelujah. I was pretty exhausted by this time and the epidural alleviated the pain. So much so that I was able to take a small nap.
At 6:00 a.m., Dr. Stephens wanted to put in an internal monitor for the contractions and a scalp monitor for the baby. The baby’s heart rate had not been as reactive as the doctor would have liked which is why she suggested these procedures. I was so tired that I took it hard that she was concerned about the baby's heart rate and stick even more contraptions inside of me. I cried a little after the monitors were put in. The doctor checked my cervix again and I had progressed to five centimeters and a -2 station. Not bad, I thought.
But at 6:48 a.m., Dr. Stephens came back in and said she was not really happy with the way the baby’s heart rate was staying flat and she suggested the baby be delivered by cesarean section. Son of a bitch. The very thing we didn’t want. I asked for a few minutes so I could talk to The Man. I was scared but had a feeling that everything that had gone on (and wrong) in the past few hours was leading up to this inevitable conclusion. And if this was the only way to make sure the baby was safe, I just had to suck it up and do it. I gave Dr. Stephens the go ahead and was prepped for surgery ...
I was lying in bed in my own hospital suite (thank goodness for the small miracle that my Kaiser has single rooms) when my parents walked in. My mom said in a sympathetic voice, "Hiiii Baby ..." and I broke down crying. My poor dad didn't know what to do with himself as my mom came over, enveloped me in a hug and said, "I know, this isn't how you planned it to be, is it?" And I just cried. My dad patted my leg. I don't think I was crying because I was disappointed in how things were turning out. I was scared out of my mind. I thought I had a week! It was my first day of maternity leave, for crap's sake! I thought when it was my time to labor, I would be in the house or somewhere nearby when I would feel contractions. Instead, I was a measly one centimeter dilated and given less than 24 hours to go into active labor or they were going to do it for me. Damn.
Oh, the doctor who admitted me, Dr. Fogarty, had finally asked me if I had eaten. I guess I could have told a nurse or doctor earlier but I hadn’t. So I told him no and he promised he would get me a real meal (not some stupid popsicle, chicken broth or something else on the water diet.) While it wasn't delicious, I finally got to eat around 6:00pm. It was some sort of bland cafeteria-looking food so thank goodness The Man intended to bring me pita chips.
He arrived shortly after my parents armed with all the backpacks. I had gotten out all my tears with my mom so I wasn't a sobbing mess when he entered the room. He didn't know what to do after kissing me and giving me a hug so he unpacked the three bags. My doula arrived soon after. Small world, Patti actually knew Dr. Fogarty and he told her that because I had preeclampsia, they needed to be very careful with my labor and delivery. He wanted to monitor my blood pressure and make sure the baby was out in a reasonable amount of time.
Dr. Fogarty came into my room soon after my doula arrived to discuss his plan. He wanted start off trying to induce my labor by breaking my bag of waters first with the hope that it would start contractions. If that was not enough to get the labor started, he then wanted to start pitocin. He said I was already dilated to two centimeters at this point and my cervix was soft which was promising. I told him that I needed some time to talk to The Man and my doula.
After he left the room, I asked my doula, Patti, what she thought about everything he said. She told me that having preeclampsia was not something to really mess around with and the baby did need to be delivered sooner than later but there were some things we could do to help get it going naturally. She said that breaking the bag of waters was a less invasive way to start and then we could get up and walk around and so some acupressure work to help move things along. Guess there was no way around it. I was going to have the contraption that looked like an effin' crochet hook.
Dr. Fogarty came back and said he wanted the nurse to get an IV started before he broke my water. A few words about the IV. Mary, my nurse, came in about 7:30 p.m. to start the IV. I really liked Mary - she was pleasant and encouraged me to ask lots of questions, especially to the doctors. But she couldn't start an IV for the life of her. At least, on me. From the get go, the needle hurt like a mother effer. She said that this was normal (it’s not) and that if I iced it, it would get better. Like hell it did. But I'll get back to that.
Dr. Fogarty returned at 7:56 p.m. to break my water. From what I understand, you're not supposed to feel pain. I know I was freaked out because, well, the apparatus really does look like a super long crochet hook. Imagine that going up your hooha. And I remember feeling pain. It certainly was incredibly uncomfortable. And afterwards, it was non-stop flowing warm fluid coming from me. That was a very weird sensation because it seriously was non-stop. It flowed for a while and then subsided. But I would shift in bed and would feel a lot more warm fluid come out. I coughed, more warm fluid. Heaven help me whenever I needed to get up and use the bathroom. I thought I was going to make a mess through the humongous pads they gave me. And they actually had me wearing TWO at a time. (Now that I think about, why didn't they just give me an adult diaper?) And every time I got up, I hated looking at the pad on the bed. It was always filled w/ clear fluid and blood. I know I shouldn't have been embarrassed but I was.
Back to the IV. It still hurt like a bitch. I thought that this was normal because I'm a weenie. But Patti said, no, you shouldn't be feeling it. She encouraged me to tell Nurse Mary so I did. After going through three ice packs, I finally requested for it to be moved due to the pain. It was about 8:10 p.m by this time. My doula gave me a foot massage and worked on some acupressure points that were supposed to help with going into active labor while we waited for the other nurse to come in to change the IV. It was a nice distraction. The Man asked me if I wanted to watch episodes of The Office and I definitely wanted as many distractions as possible so I said yes. Patti didn't tell me then but she told me later that she noticed on the monitor that I was having contractions, but they were very mild because I didn't really feel them.
At 9:05 p.m., a new doctor named Dr. Stephens introduced herself and let me know she would be taking over for Dr. Fogarty. She then explained that she wanted to start pitocin if my contractions didn’t get into a regular pattern within 2 hours of having her water broken. This meant she would actually want to start pitocin in just an hour, at 10:00pm, because my water was broken around 8:00pm.
From the books and the classes my husband and I took, I feel like we were taught to fear pitocin. Because once the pitocin came, stronger-than-ever-contractions would come and then I would need an epidural which through out any chance of laboring naturally. Now, let me be clear. I was indifferent to the epidural. I planned on trying to labor without it but if I needed it, I would take it. The pitocin, however, sounded like hell and why would I want to put myself through that?
So I asked Dr. Stephens if we could delay the pitocin and be given the opportunity to walk around the halls to help get things moving more naturally. In my doula's words, "Dr. Stephens seemed a little irritated at this." But she begrudgingly agreed to wait and see what would happen in the next few hours with my contractions. After the doctor left, I was a little ticked off by her attitude. Well, as ticked off as one can be while incredibly uncomfortable and leaking uncontrollably. Maybe the better term would be "turned off." In those classes we took, we were taught to ask questions and feel entitled to get answers. Heck, EMPOWERED because it's my body, after all.
Then I thought back to my birth plan and I could have sworn I requested a midwife over a doctor. I asked Patti if she could go into the hallway and flag down Nurse Mary. I felt comfortable enough with the nurse (because she had encouraged me to talk to the doctor and ask why whenever I felt it was necessary) to let her know I wasn't feeling this doctor. My doula stepped out into the hall and asked if Mary was available to answer some questions and to find out about getting the IV changed because nobody had come in yet to do it.
What was odd was that another nurse named Maria came into the room instead and said she could answer the questions I had for Mary. Well, I didn't know this Maria chick from a bucket of water and she was kind of pushy. Great. I asked if Mary was available and Maria said she could answer any questions I had. So in the nicest way possible, because I didn't want to be on the Dr. Stephens' bad side if I was stuck with her, I told Maria I would prefer a midwife. Maria asked if I had any medical complications with my pregnancy (um, couldn't she have read my chart?) When I told her I was just diagnosed with preeclampsia. Maria said that was considered a medical complication so I would have to be cared for by an OB. Damn.
I said OK because what else could I say but then asked again about getting my IV replaced. It was still really hurting. Maria said she would do it, but I told her Mary had asked someone else to do it. Maria seemed to insist she would take care of moving the IV and went to get everything she needed. When she came back she turned all the lights up and removed the first IV. What do you know, Maria was unable to get a second IV started and created a pretty big bruise on my right wrist where the first IV was because of the pressure created. I looked like I was a victim of domestic abuse. No ... seriously, the bruise was huge and spread up my arm from my wrist. I felt like telling her she should have practiced on an orange, not me, if she wanted to learn now to do IVs.
Finally, at 9:35 p.m. Maria said she could not get a new IV started and asked if I wanted and anesthesiologist to come in and start one for me. WTF do you think? Especially when my mom said that anesthesiologists were pros at putting in needles, it was just that IVs are kind of beneath them. So this guy named Mike came in about 10 p.m. and was a breath of fresh air. He joked around and was really easy to talk to. He also told me about the epidural and that he would be on tonight to give her one if I wanted. And let me just add that the IV Mike put in was painless. I did not feel a thing. Bless that guy's heart. And curses to Maria. (I liked Mary and while her IV made me incredibly uncomfortable, I wish her no ill will because she apologized over and over about it.)
At 10:20 p.m. Dr. Stephens came back into the room and said she wanted to start pitocin. Still terrified, I asked for some time to walk around because I had been stuck in bed this whole time while waiting for someone to come in and change my IV. Dr. Stephens said she would give me one hour to walk and see if the contractions would increase because she had to go into the OR for another C-section. So The Man, the doula and I were off to walk the halls while my mom hung back in my suite. You may be wondering what happened to my dad. I was only allowed to have three guests so he was in the waiting room. During that time, he also went out and brought my husband some food from a fast food restaurant. So The Man left us briefly to join my dad in the waiting room to eat.
By this time, I was walking pretty slow. The contractions weren't terribly strong but they slowed me down. So did my leaking and the two huge pads I had to wear. We walked several laps throughout the quiet halls of Labor & Delivery and Postpartum. The Man caught up to us after about three laps. My dad decided to go home and my mom decided to stay the night since she was allowed to stay in my room. The Man joined our little walkabout just as my contractions got a little stronger. But I was still really early in my labor. My doula was pooped from working all day and, knowing I still had a ways to go, asked if she could go to a nearby friend’s house to sleep for a little bit. We were to call her as soon as things progressed. She left at about 11 p.m.
Dr. Stephens returned soon after Patti left and I agreed to start the pitocin. Holy Mary, Mother of Pearl ... my contractions got a lot stronger. My mom hugged me or held my hand through the tough ones, especially when I started to cry. The Man felt bad for me and tried to comfort me too. At about 2:40am, I was in a lot of pain by then and told the hubby it was time for our doula to come back.
Patti arrived back at the hospital at 3:00 a.m. and I was sitting on the bed working through a contraction. When the contraction finished, Dr. Stephens checked my cervix and I was dilated to three centimeters. Only THREE EFFIN' CENTIMETERS. My mind was at the point of "bring me the GD epidural." My husband was surprised by this because he thought I was handling the contractions pretty well. To hell with handling, I thought. I wanted the epidural. I was tired and 12 hours had gone by since my supposed routine doctor's appointment. I wanted the bloody epidural.
By 3:30 a.m. the anesthesiologist came in. I was only allowed one guest while he administered the epidural. My mom and doula left and waited in the waiting room until everything was finished. It was a different anesthesiologist but he seemed competent. It was a weird procedure because I had to position myself just right for him to weave it into my back. I'm sure there's a better, clinical term for it but that's what it felt like, he was weaving a needle in and out of my spine. They had numbed the area so it didn’t hurt too much. The liquid felt cool but I was relieved that I wouldn't be feeling much pain for much longer.
My mom and doula were brought back to the room at 4:00 a.m. and, by this time, I was shivering and my legs were tingling. I guess these are normal side effects. The nurse kept having me switch sides for the next 20 minutes or so to make sure the epidural had a nice even effect. And the epidural started to kick in around 5:00 a.m. Hallelujah. I was pretty exhausted by this time and the epidural alleviated the pain. So much so that I was able to take a small nap.
At 6:00 a.m., Dr. Stephens wanted to put in an internal monitor for the contractions and a scalp monitor for the baby. The baby’s heart rate had not been as reactive as the doctor would have liked which is why she suggested these procedures. I was so tired that I took it hard that she was concerned about the baby's heart rate and stick even more contraptions inside of me. I cried a little after the monitors were put in. The doctor checked my cervix again and I had progressed to five centimeters and a -2 station. Not bad, I thought.
But at 6:48 a.m., Dr. Stephens came back in and said she was not really happy with the way the baby’s heart rate was staying flat and she suggested the baby be delivered by cesarean section. Son of a bitch. The very thing we didn’t want. I asked for a few minutes so I could talk to The Man. I was scared but had a feeling that everything that had gone on (and wrong) in the past few hours was leading up to this inevitable conclusion. And if this was the only way to make sure the baby was safe, I just had to suck it up and do it. I gave Dr. Stephens the go ahead and was prepped for surgery ...
Monday, November 02, 2009
Birth Story part I
Tuesday, October 6th was my first day of maternity leave! My due date was 11 days away but I was slowing down. I took it easy and didn't fill up my day with lots of To Dos. I did want to make the best of my newly found free time, though, and made simple plans for lunch with a good friend. We went to my favorite South Indian restaurant and was stuffed with all sorts of vegetarian goodies. Afterwards, we decided to get pedicures - I figured I should have pretty feet because I would be going to the hospital in a few days and just about everyone working there would have to see all parts of my body, including my feet.
My friend and I parted ways around 2:00pm because she had to pick up her son from school and I had my weekly doctor's appointment. I took deep breaths as I was driving to Kaiser because my doctor was monitoring my blood pressure and I didn't want to give her any reason to send me to the lab for blood work. I hated going to the lab because it always oozed of sick people!
When I got to my doctor's office, I did the weekly ritual of peeing in a cup and then waited for my appointment. The nurse called me in, took my blood pressure and ... son of a biscuit. It was 140/90. Not bad for most people but in comparison to my normal numbers (like117/70), I knew that my doctor would lecture me. Well, she's very nice so she doesn't have to do much at all to make me feel guilty.
I waited in the examination room with dread, knowing that she would most likely make me go to the nasty lab where everyone was sick and have to give blood to make sure things were OK. I was partially right. My doctor came into the room and told me that my blood pressure was too high for me and that there was a lot of protein in my urine. Like she was asking me to pass the sugar, she casually told me that these were signs of Preeclampsia and that I would most likely need to deliver within the next 24 hours. She already called the lab so that they would expect me to test my urine one more time as well as take some blood work. After going to lab, she said, I was then to go straight to Labor & Delivery to await my lab results and most likely to be admitted.
I was knocked off my feet. I mean, I KNEW that births hardly if ever go according to plan. Anything and everything can happen. But I thought I had at least a week more of maternity leave before delivering. I was only ONE CENTIMETER dialated. I knew that my baby was no where near ready to get the party started. If I had to deliver within 24 hours, my preferred plan of going the natural route was most likely slim to none.
I had started to cry because I felt overwhelmed. I just nodded and smiled at my doctor through my tears and made my way to the lab. I took a number and waited among the sick (the lab is probably what I dislike most about Kaiser), gave blood and another urine sample, and then walked a lonely walk to the Labor & Delivery ward. Once I go there, they had me lie in bed in a curtained area that must have doubled as the break room. I had privacy but I also heard the microwave being used, the fridge being opened and what sounded like a couple of people taking their lunch. Sweet. Did I mention Iwas hungry by this time? Sure I was upset but I was still pregnant and needed to eat!
During this time, they set me up on a heart rate monitor and I just waited. And waited. And waited. So I made some calls. I called my husband first who had casually answered the phone. He knew it was me because of caller ID but I couldn't say anything because I knew the flood gates would open. He jokingly said, Hellllo?!", thinking I was goofing off. Finally, I just said in a broken voice, "I'm in the hospital. The doctor said she thinks I have Preeclampsia. I'm waiting for my lab results. If I have it, I'll have to deliver the baby sometime during the night."
"What?" He was waiting for me to get home so we could get some dinner. By this time, an hour had gone by and talking to The Man calmed me down. We both figured that if my situation was truly an emergency, I would have heard from the Labor & Delivery doctor on call. But I hadn't. And by the end of our conversation, we decided that he would wait for me to come home and we would get burgers. Because I was starving! Afterwards, I called my doula and left her a message. Having to relay the message again, although I had calmed down, made me tear again. I made the decision NOT to call my parents at this time because, although I was terrified, I still hadn't heard from the doc and it was nearly two hours since my original appointment.
At around 5:30pm, the Labor & Delivery doctor finally came around and told me that my lab results all came back. I was officially diagnosed with Preeclampsia and the only way to remedy this was to deliver my baby as soon as possible, preferably by tomorrow morning. Well, hell. The Man thought I was calling him to let him know that I was coming home but, instead, I called him crying AGAIN to let him know that I was being admitted into the hospital and that I needed him to call my parents, our doula and to bring my the bag I packed for the hospital.
And yes, I was still hungry, damn it.
My friend and I parted ways around 2:00pm because she had to pick up her son from school and I had my weekly doctor's appointment. I took deep breaths as I was driving to Kaiser because my doctor was monitoring my blood pressure and I didn't want to give her any reason to send me to the lab for blood work. I hated going to the lab because it always oozed of sick people!
When I got to my doctor's office, I did the weekly ritual of peeing in a cup and then waited for my appointment. The nurse called me in, took my blood pressure and ... son of a biscuit. It was 140/90. Not bad for most people but in comparison to my normal numbers (like117/70), I knew that my doctor would lecture me. Well, she's very nice so she doesn't have to do much at all to make me feel guilty.
I waited in the examination room with dread, knowing that she would most likely make me go to the nasty lab where everyone was sick and have to give blood to make sure things were OK. I was partially right. My doctor came into the room and told me that my blood pressure was too high for me and that there was a lot of protein in my urine. Like she was asking me to pass the sugar, she casually told me that these were signs of Preeclampsia and that I would most likely need to deliver within the next 24 hours. She already called the lab so that they would expect me to test my urine one more time as well as take some blood work. After going to lab, she said, I was then to go straight to Labor & Delivery to await my lab results and most likely to be admitted.
I was knocked off my feet. I mean, I KNEW that births hardly if ever go according to plan. Anything and everything can happen. But I thought I had at least a week more of maternity leave before delivering. I was only ONE CENTIMETER dialated. I knew that my baby was no where near ready to get the party started. If I had to deliver within 24 hours, my preferred plan of going the natural route was most likely slim to none.
I had started to cry because I felt overwhelmed. I just nodded and smiled at my doctor through my tears and made my way to the lab. I took a number and waited among the sick (the lab is probably what I dislike most about Kaiser), gave blood and another urine sample, and then walked a lonely walk to the Labor & Delivery ward. Once I go there, they had me lie in bed in a curtained area that must have doubled as the break room. I had privacy but I also heard the microwave being used, the fridge being opened and what sounded like a couple of people taking their lunch. Sweet. Did I mention Iwas hungry by this time? Sure I was upset but I was still pregnant and needed to eat!
During this time, they set me up on a heart rate monitor and I just waited. And waited. And waited. So I made some calls. I called my husband first who had casually answered the phone. He knew it was me because of caller ID but I couldn't say anything because I knew the flood gates would open. He jokingly said, Hellllo?!", thinking I was goofing off. Finally, I just said in a broken voice, "I'm in the hospital. The doctor said she thinks I have Preeclampsia. I'm waiting for my lab results. If I have it, I'll have to deliver the baby sometime during the night."
"What?" He was waiting for me to get home so we could get some dinner. By this time, an hour had gone by and talking to The Man calmed me down. We both figured that if my situation was truly an emergency, I would have heard from the Labor & Delivery doctor on call. But I hadn't. And by the end of our conversation, we decided that he would wait for me to come home and we would get burgers. Because I was starving! Afterwards, I called my doula and left her a message. Having to relay the message again, although I had calmed down, made me tear again. I made the decision NOT to call my parents at this time because, although I was terrified, I still hadn't heard from the doc and it was nearly two hours since my original appointment.
At around 5:30pm, the Labor & Delivery doctor finally came around and told me that my lab results all came back. I was officially diagnosed with Preeclampsia and the only way to remedy this was to deliver my baby as soon as possible, preferably by tomorrow morning. Well, hell. The Man thought I was calling him to let him know that I was coming home but, instead, I called him crying AGAIN to let him know that I was being admitted into the hospital and that I needed him to call my parents, our doula and to bring my the bag I packed for the hospital.
And yes, I was still hungry, damn it.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
I miss blogging ...
My life has been turned upside down but I promise to return to tell all about it: The Good. The Bad. And the sleep-deprived Ugly.
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