Friday, September 16, 2011

We're still alive!

It's just hard to write blog posts with one hand!  So here's some bullets to update you!

  • Baby Girl is doing great.  Our new saying around the house "She's thriving in spite of us"
  • Things are starting to settle into a routine at our house.  Our world was a bit crazy for the first two weeks of Baby Girl's life.  I came home from the hospital with a stomach bug, then when I finally started feeling better, The Husband got food poisoning and we had to take him to the hospital!  It would have been a rough two weeks even if I hadn't had a newborn and a c-section to recover from.  But we survived, and I think it upped our confidence level.  If we can keep Baby Girl alive through that, we should be ok through regular stuff!
  • In the midst of me and The Husband getting sick, Moo ate a bag of M&Ms.  Guess he was feeling left out of the we-cant-keep-anything-down group that me and The Husband had.  Carpets to be cleaned, eventually.
  • Baby Girl did give us quite the scare when she was a week old though.  About 4 hours after a feeding, she started spitting up exorcist style.  I was seriously waiting to see her little head turn around.  And the spit up? Had brown chunks in it.  I ran up stairs and woke my husband, who called the pediatrician.  Turns out I should have named my baby Renesme.  My nipple had a crack in it, and she had been drinking blood along with the milk.  (Maybe I've been watching to many episodes of Vampire Diaries?)  It took her awhile to get all the blood out of her tummy, but once it was gone, she was back to her normal, happy, non exorcist self.
  • Baby blues suck.  Hard.
  • This has been our first week on our own, and I think we're doing ok.  I still haven't ventured out of the house with Baby Girl.  I'm to afraid of everything that's out there that could get her sick.
  • Honestly, I'm afraid of a lot of things that have to do with Baby Girl.  I'm working on getting over them, but it's hard.  I think the anxiety ties back into the baby blues.  But this is where our saying comes into play.  I may not have a clue in hell what I'm doing, but Baby Girl is thriving, so I must not be screwing it all up!  And so long as she's alive, we can pay for therapy for all the damage I do to her psyche.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Birth Story - Updated with Picture

Sunday was an anxious day for me as I waited to find out whether or not I'd be going in to the hospital for an induction. Finally, I received word that there was room for me that night, and we headed off for the hospital.  When we got there, the whole main entrance was under construction, which really stressed me out.  The hospital had told us that if we didn't arrive on time, they might not start the induction, and I was hugely sick of being pregnant.  After finally finding our way to labor and delivery we were about a half hour late, only to find out we were the only ones in labor and delivery.  The ONLY people.

After we finished all the paperwork and were admitted we were taking to our room.  The nurse placed my IV, and put me on the monitors to watch Baby Girl and to watch for contractions.  As soon as she plugged the contraction monitor in we saw a pretty strong one go across the screen.  I didn't feel a thing.  I took this as a good sign.  Maybe I was already dilating?! It took another hour for the doctor to arrive to administer the cervidril himself.  Holy Hell.  I almost came up and out of the bed while he was placing the drug.  Add to that that there was no change to my cervix; still high and closed.  I was hoping that would be the worst of it.  But I was wrong.  About a half hour later the contractions started to get painful.

My doctor wouldn't let me have an epidural until I had dilated to a 4.  That became my goal.  All I had to do was make it through the night, he'd check me in the morning and then I'd get the good drugs.  Meanwhile, I was getting shots of something that took the pain away for about 45 minutes, but I was only allowed the shots every three hours.  So, 45 minutes of peace, then agony until the next shot.

During the night, my stomach decided to rebel against me.  I got horrid diarrhea as a reaction to the cervidril.  I got another shot of something to make the diarrhea stop, and a shot of zofran to ease up the nausea.  More cramps, more nausea, more diarrhea, more pain.

Soon, it's morning, and my doctor is there to take out the drug, and check my progress.  And after all that pain, there has to be progress, right?  Nope.  NONE.  Cervix still high and closed.  It was at this point that I burst into tears.  Thirteen hours of labor, thirteen hours of hell, and my body hadn't done anything right.  I was given three options: Go home and continue to labor on my own (Um, hell no); Start the pitocin and see if we can make the cervix respond (Dr. said it would more then likely fail and that he still wouldn't give me any good drugs until I was dilated to a four); Or do a c-section.  I think I debated for all of five minutes.  The pain needed to end, so a c-section it was!

Things after that are kind of a blur.  The anesthesiologist came in and started spouting off his stuff, my doctor started going through his stuff, and I was signing papers.  I remember telling everyone I didn't feel well, and throwing up (which up until the birth I hadn't done since 2003).  I remember someone coming in and shaving me, and someone coming in from the NuMom2B study and talking to me, but I don't remember about what.  I was focusing on making it through the contractions, and they were doozys!

They asked me to walk to the OR.  I laughed at them and they got me a wheelchair.  All I could think about at this point was that I would soon be getting a spinal and the pain would end.  I wish I could say that I was excited to meet my Anna, but that thought wasn't there.  When we got to the OR, they had me climb onto the table, and then the anesthesiologist started to work on my spinal.  It took him several tries, for which he kept apologizing, but honestly the pain was less than contractions, so it didn't faze me.  When he got it right, and the pain started melting away I was in heaven.

The rest of the birth is only in bits and pieces of memories.

I remember them setting up the curtain, hearing my doctor explaining the surgery to a resident, someone asking my husband if he wanted to see her born (his response, "no thanks") and then hearing the most beautiful cry in the world.  I started crying, and thinking of how much I'd been through to get here.  All of it was worth it (cliche, I know).  The Husband even teared up, although he denies it now.

They took her out, The Husband went with.  He came back with a picture of her and she was beautiful.  They brought her out to us, and all I could see were her eyes, but they were beautiful eyes.  Wheeled back to my room, and there was my mom, and I started crying all over again.  When I got back to the room I had my mom and The Husband unwrap her so I could count her fingers and toes.  Cue more tears.

It was quite the journey to get her here, but we are so happy!

She's Here!

Anna was born at 9:36am on Monday morning.  She weighed in at 8 pounds 9 ounces and was 20.5 inches long.  She is absolutely beautiful, and me and The Husband love her to pieces!

We were released to come home from the hospital Thursday, and that's about the time I got the stomach bug from hell.  We've been trying to take care of me, and Anna since, and battling guilt as we discuss breastfeeding and formula due to the fact that I've been to sick to nurse since we got home.  We were able to get a used breast pump, so it looks like Anna will be able to get some breast milk by bottle, and then we'll supplement with formula.

It's been a rough first week, but I promise to post the birth story soon.  Right now I'm focusing on getting better and learning about my little one.