Wow. It has taken me almost a year to write about the recovery from my birth. What does THAT say? Writing now means I've forgotten 95% of it, but it just doesn't feel right to leave off without it. I dunno.
So, yeah. I had to have stitches. Internal stitches. Because Sophie apparently scratched me with those tiny newborn hands on her extremely fast exit. And the doctor and resident had to insert a catheter to help with the actual stitching and to help with the healing progress. The doctor says to me normally she'd like to keep the catheter in for 24 hours, but if I want to leave by the next day, then it can be removed by the next afternoon.
Now, DH and I had discussed the hospital stay thing just the week prior. Barring any complications, I wanted to try to leave within 24 hours to keep the costs down since we were paying more out of pocket than we had to pay for the prior three births. DH, "Stay as long as you need to stay. Period." Anyway, the doctor and resident and nurses all just sort of assumed we wanted to try to leave by the next day. Um, well, yeah, if we can.... I wasn't sure what the insurance rules would be since we were admitted around 5:30pm, and the baby was born at 8:30pm. Sometimes insurance companies will be all, "well, you know, we don't expect you to be checked out at 8:30 at night, so yeah, you can stay until 10am tomorrow, and we're all good." But the doctors seemed to think we could, so we just assumed we would.
Well, after the small surgery and getting to nurse the baby and mowing down a sub and calling family and posting facebook, DH decided to go ahead and pick up the kids from our neighbor and let them go back to sleep in their own beds. It was after 11pm before he really got them. But then I was all alone with a baby and a catheter and well...kinda lonely.
Here's where you get checked multiple times at night (although it wasn't as often as it used to be). The nurses started getting concerned that the baby was kind of cold, so I was doing skin-to-skin contact, but the baby's temp wasn't getting as high as they wanted, so they took her off to the warmers. Now I was alone with just the catheter! And let me tell you, the catheter thing was WEIRD. I could tell I needed to go and then suddenly, I didn't need to go, and sitting was interesting and well, catheters are just WEIRD. Anyway, baby came back, and we nursed, and I kept trying skin-to-skin, but she eventually had to go back to the warmers again.
Let's skip to the next morning! I asked if I was allowed a shower since I had that catheter, but I never really got an answer. Well, when the nurses sent Sophie off to the warmers again that morning, it was suggested I go ahead and get breakfast. And now breakfast is served buffet style, so I actually had to walk down to go get it. Um...REALLY? I'm sorry. Making newly-birthed mothers walk down to a buffet is not my idea of hospital hospitality, you know? The nurse did say she could just get me something and bring it to me, but I wasn't sure what I was in the mood to eat, so I got dressed (FUN with a catheter!) and hobbled on down. As I'm passing the nurses station I suddenly get arrested by a nurse's voice, "WHERE ARE YOU GOING?? WHERE IS YOUR BABY!???" Um...breakfast? And...she's in the warmers..??? "Oh! OK!" Glad to see that the nurses are making sure I'm not being an irresponsible parent on the very first day and leaving the baby all alone in my room!
That morning was Sophie's last stay in the warmers, but the pediatrician and nurses and doctors all said that I may want to just consider staying the extra night so that they could keep an extra eye on her. Um, sure.
So, since I'm staying, am I getting the catheter out now, or do you want to keep it in the 24 hours as originally intended? My delivering doctor wasn't around, and I never really got an answer--except that the catheter did not come out, so I figured THAT was my answer.
(Nurse later when seeing how I'd arranged the pee bag through my pajamas, "Did you dress yourself? Oh...you're so cute!" WHAT DID I DO WRONG??? Ah well--I was presentable enough for my buffet breakfast, and that's all I cared about!)
The resident came in to check me at one point--the same wet-behind-the-ears whipper snapper who'd helped sew me up and insert the catheter the night before--with all those "hey, how ya doin'" questions. He asks me about my urination. Um. Fine. Because of the catheter YOU installed last night? Oh yeah.... (Really, proof that they are only looking at the girly parts and not at the face!)
So DH and the kids come and visit that evening, and the nurse finally comes in to give the baby a bath. She hadn't had one yet since her temp was so low, and they didn't want her to get colder with a bath. The kids thought it was cool to see the baby's first bath.
When I asked about the catheter again, since it had been almost 24 hours, after a while, someone finally came in and told me that the delivering doctor had never actually written an ORDER for the catheter to come out. So after a few phone calls and apparently faxes, I finally got to have that darn thing removed. AND I didn't even ask--I got my butt in the shower, pronto!
I'm sorry, but to me, that post-birth shower is always one of the BEST. To have to wait over 24 hours to shower was just plain cruel!!! Oh....it felt so nice!
The pediatrician made an interesting comment during one of the check-ups--about how Sophia had come out so quickly. She said, "She's going to be a spitter!" And well, yes, Sophia actually did cough up colostrum while we were in the hospital. Apparently, because she was not in the birth canal very long, her lungs did not properly compress, and it led to the spitting up. Weird.
Oh! And let's not forget that a day before the birth, I had caught a really, really nasty cold. By that first afternoon, I was coughing and sneezing horribly and had actually lost my voice. Recuperation from birth is a pain. Recuperation while suffering from a bad cold is a @#$%. Let's talk about horrible coughs right after giving birth--yeah, I had to change a lot that first week. Fun. It took me over three weeks to get over that cold. I hadn't been that sick with a cold in ages. I was most happy for the meal train my friend had set up because I'm sure we would have been eating sandwiches every did if not for that!
So, a year late, but there is what I remember. Cold, tiny baby. Sick, catheterized, stitched up me. It's fun to remember a year later.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Sophia Birth Announcement
Initially Girl Baby Announcements
Shutterfly has cute birth announcements and cards for Easter.
View the entire collection of cards.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Birth Story #4!!!
Where to start?
(I should have started writing this over a week ago, but you all know how THAT goes when you're home with a new baby....)
Saturday the 10th my son was sick with a fever all day. He lay on the couch pathetically while I gave him doses of the 4-hour fever-reducer after the initial dose of the 6-hour fever-reducer ended in a higher fever and the memory that the 6-hour fever-recucer does ABSOLUTELY NOTHING for my poor child. *sigh*
My husband and oldest were at her swim meet where she DID finally qualify for districts (funny story, that--I should post about that on my other blog).
I was on the couch reading and watching TV with my pathetic son feeling "funny" and having a few random Braxton-Hicks contractions and thinking to the baby, "NOT today! Wait for K to get better and for M to qualify!" Oh...and I was most obviously coming down with a COLD. Ugh.
Now if M did not qualify, she had another meet to go to on Sunday. DH and I just had this "feeling" I was going to go into labor by Sunday. We had a few alternate plans set in case he was at the meet with M and put absolutely NO pressure on her to Get 'er DONE. :-) So when I got the word on Saturday afternoon that M qualified, I breathed a sigh of relief and changed my thought patterns to the baby to, "OK, kid. You can come out any time now!"
Sunday morning I got up a little late feeling like crap from the cold that was definitely making it's presence known. K's temp was at 100.2 the first time we checked and then 99.7 the second--perfect! The kids and I went about our normal Sunday routine of slowly getting breakfast and getting a start on the day. And then around 9:00 or so, I started having contractions.
I only timed a few and noticed that they were around four minutes apart but weren't too strong. So, I went into "Panic-Nesting Mode" and started picking up around the house and getting the kids ready for the drop-off to the neighbors'. I stopped timing and did the dishes, cleaned up the bathroom, and put the kids' toothbrushes and hair brushes in their overnight bag. I nagged the kids into their clothes and shoes.
My contractions seemed to slow down while I was scurrying around the house. I finally woke up DH and told him that I was having random contractions, but they weren't regular or very strong yet. And then I started a load of laundry. DH got up and started working on our downstairs bathroom. He even made a quick run to Big Home Store to buy the new toilet. Later he and the now not-so-sick boy and DD#2 spent a while outside shooting hoops and enjoying the beautiful spring-like weather.
I finally sat down again and started timing again, and the contractions were definitely NOT regular. This surprised me as I'd never experienced this many irregular contractions previously. I took a break to eat lunch and call my parents. Around 2:00, I noticed that my contractions were getting somewhat regular again, so I started timing again. And then I finally got a tiny amount of bloody show. Oh!
Now, in making preparations for the possibility of labor on Sunday, DH and I discovered that our neighbor did have Sunday afternoon plans. Her daughter's school rented out an afternoon viewing of The Lorax. And now here it is about 2:30, I'm starting to get regular (although still not so hurty) contractions--great. I tired texting her first. No answer. Then I tried to call her. No answer. THEN I tried her husband's phone. Bah! Left a voice mail. Then she finally calls back. Yep, she's at the movies (She purposely left her phone ON and IN HER HANDS just in case, and apparently her phone did not get any reception at the theatre!). She says that she thinks that they've only got about a half hour left of the movie. No problem here since I still have to call the doctor's answering service, and I know it'll take about 20 minutes for a callback--and my contraction are still not too painful. I tell her to finish the movie, and then we'd bring the kids over. Then I finally place the call to the answering service.
(Why, yes, I made sure I had someone to care for the kids before I called the doctor. AND??? LOL)
The doctor calls back (the fun Indian doctor) and by this time I can confidently say that I've been having regular contractions around 45 minutes or so. I get her blessing to come on in. "OK," I tell her, "but it will probably be another 20 minutes or so as I'm waiting for my babysitter to get home."
I do a last-minute check of my hospital bag and the kids' overnight bag, and before we've even had a spare thought, we see the neighbor pull in across the street. I gather up the kids to take them over, but my neighbor made a beeline to MY house and grabbed them herself. We all walk out the door together, I give the kids a hug and a kiss, and then DH and I are on our way.
Whew!
We finally got to the hospital just before 5:00. In triage, I strip down and get my gown on and then get belted in to the monitor. DH and I notice that the place seems absolutely EMPTY. All of our other experiences, triage was always packed full of laboring mothers. The nurse reassures us, "Oh, they're here all right, we're just good about hiding them!" After getting the baby's heart rate timed for 20 minutes and after MORE waiting, my doctor finally comes in and checks me. I'm only at three centimeters. What? Really? Huh. The doctor tells me that I will definitely be admitted today ("This is your fourth time, I know YOU know when you're in labor!"), but she wants me to walk the halls for an hour first to progress a little more. So, for the first time, DH and I have to pace the halls to get my labor more advanced. Huh.
For that hour, we go back and forth over baby names. He's still debating over Darcy and Elliot. Or...maybe something else. He's considering spelling Darcy like D'arcy. He's still suggesting other names we've discussed. Meanwhile, my contractions are definitely getting stronger. We stop at one point when we see the doc and have a really amusing conversation with her. So, my contractions are stronger, but I'm still able to talk and laugh, for the most part.
At 6:30, we're back in triage waiting for someone to check on me. After what seems forever, a resident finally comes in and yes, I've advanced. I'm at four centimeters, and it's time to "officially" admit me. The one nurse had read over my previous births and says, "I assume you don't want an epidural, right?" Nope, the jacuzzi is MY form of pain medication. But again, I will NOT say no to meds if I feel it gets to that point that I feel I can't handle it.
They put an IV put in my arm "just in case" I need meds later, or I bleed too much during delivery and need a quick transfusion (ugh...really?). The one nurse started my bath in the room and had it ready for me before we even got there. I get in immediately. I am still slow-breathing through my contractions and now the warm water is helping me out, too. DH takes his position in front of the TV but with a view to me, and we settle in for the Main Event.
It seems to me I was in that tub forever. I know the nurse checked the baby's heart rate once and a few other people came in to talk to DH while I was in there, but I couldn't hear since the tub was so loud. I kept having to fill the tub as the water was leaking out and when the level went down, the sprayers would start shooting water all over the floor.
After a while, I started feeling that familiar nauseous/faint feeling during contractions that tells me that it's time to get out of the tub. I was a bit surprised because even though it seemed I'd been in the tub for a while, I also knew that we hadn't been in the hospital too long. I was also starting to get some pain in my lower back (oh no! not back labor again!). Could I really be heading into transition so soon? I stayed in the tub for a while longer, but the nausea and dizziness kept coming, so I finally got out and got in the bed.
I'd only been out a few minutes when the nurse came in again to check on me. I was still doing slow breathing at this point. I asked her if someone could come and check me. She starts going on and on about how if I really wanted it, they could, but you know, some women get really disappointed if they have a certain number in mind and then they get checked, and they haven't progressed as much as they wanted. I tell her, "I'm someone who wants to know how much longer I have to go! So, yes, I really DO want to be checked." While the nurse and I are having this discussion, the doctor shows up and says, "Sure! I'll check you!" (I know the nurse meant well, but SERIOUSLY!)
So, guess what? I'm at seven centimeters. The doc tells me that the baby's head is still WAY up there, though, so she decides to go ahead and break my water in the hopes that it will get the baby to come down. The doc and the nurse inspect my water diligently and finally decide that no, there is no meconium in there (yay!).
Now I had warned the doctor earlier that with my previous births I went into transition almost immediately after my water being broken (always at eight centimeters). The doctor tells me to get gravity working for me to get the head down, and if I go into transition I can try to push past a couple of centimeters. So I decide to get on my hands and knees on the bed.
The contractions are getting more intense, and the nurse and doctor are pretty impressed with me. "Wow. Look at how strong she is!" The nurse tells me that it's possible that the baby may be posterior with that back pain, but hopefully the new position will shift her right around. I'm moaning to DH, "NEVER AGAIN." (I *still* don't see what he found so funny about that. heh.) The doctor steps out (WHY do they do this? WHY?), and the nurse helps put pressure on my aching back, and then DH takes over. I also recall saying quite a few times, "NOTHING should hurt this badly!" I tell DH that if it keeps up, I may even consider asking for something to help take the edge off. He just looks at me with first surprise and then amusement. (Listen, buddy, this is my fourth and FINAL time, I'm thinking I DESERVE something at this point!) I DID say out loud once, "You know, this is all YOUR fault!"
It does not take long, and I am surprised by my body actually starting to PUSH during a contraction. I'm so taken aback. I finally get the message out to the nurse, "PRESSURE!" as I start unwillingly bearing down. She tries to flip me onto my back while she pages the doctor back into the room. Then...the chaos begins.
The doctor and the nurse are trying to get me to lift my butt so that they can get the birthing blanket down, but my body has quite taken over my brain, and it was all I could do to get my hiney up in the air for them. I do recall ONCE trying to switch to a different breathing method, but my body refused the request and just KEPT pushing. And I...the brave woman who had birthed three children au natural...completely started to PANIC. Every time anyone talked to me, no matter what they said, I would yell out, "I CAN'T! I CAN'T!" Because my brain wasn't listening. My body wasn't listening. No matter what anyone said, the baby was coming out NOW.
After a lot of yelling by everybody, I finally focus enough to hear the nurse tell me, "You are having your baby NOW!" She and resident finally get me to get my legs back into position. My husband is trying to get my attention by grabbing my hand and yelling, "You know you can do this!" And then the nurse coaches me through one really, really good push. And then, just moments later, I feel as if my whole body explodes, and THERE SHE IS.
"Holy crap! THAT WAS FAST!"
(The doctor broke my water at 8:20; the baby was born at 8:36!!)
I look over, and I see the tiniest little baby girl ever! DH gets to cut the cord. The baby goes over to the ped nurses who says she's having just a slight difficulty breathing, but that's probably because she came out so fast and swallowed a bit of amniotic fluid, otherwise, she's perfect. Our new little (nameless!) peanut weighs 6 pounds, 4 ounces and is 19 inches long (even smaller than our first!).
I deliver the placenta. The doctor and the resident look me over and at first say I have nothing but a really slight tear that they are not going to repair. But then they look a little deeper, and oh, yes, I have a few tears on the INSIDE. Oh...well, that's new! In order to do the repair, the doctor has to put in a catheter. She says that the one tear is really close to my urethra, and she is putting in the catheter for her own guidance to make sure she doesn't stitch the urethra closed. "Yes, please don't do that!"
While they are repairing me, I get to hold the baby and start to nurse her. Oh! What a peanut! She has the head full of dark hair and DH's pointy nose and yes, she has his long, long eyelashes.
DH and I spend the next two hours debating her name some more. DH refuses to post anything on FB until the name is decided. Eventually, DH decides to go with Sophia--because, really, it just flows with Loretta so well. So, Sophia Loretta it is!
(But even now, when I look at her, she just doesn't really look like a Sophia to me! Maybe a Sophie. DH doesn't want her to be called Sophie, but really, I don't think I'll be able to help it.)
And now, my brother has a niece who shares his birthday. That's kind of nice, isn't it?
(Will try to post about recovery--and maybe put up some more pictures--soon....)
(I should have started writing this over a week ago, but you all know how THAT goes when you're home with a new baby....)
Saturday the 10th my son was sick with a fever all day. He lay on the couch pathetically while I gave him doses of the 4-hour fever-reducer after the initial dose of the 6-hour fever-reducer ended in a higher fever and the memory that the 6-hour fever-recucer does ABSOLUTELY NOTHING for my poor child. *sigh*
My husband and oldest were at her swim meet where she DID finally qualify for districts (funny story, that--I should post about that on my other blog).
I was on the couch reading and watching TV with my pathetic son feeling "funny" and having a few random Braxton-Hicks contractions and thinking to the baby, "NOT today! Wait for K to get better and for M to qualify!" Oh...and I was most obviously coming down with a COLD. Ugh.
Now if M did not qualify, she had another meet to go to on Sunday. DH and I just had this "feeling" I was going to go into labor by Sunday. We had a few alternate plans set in case he was at the meet with M and put absolutely NO pressure on her to Get 'er DONE. :-) So when I got the word on Saturday afternoon that M qualified, I breathed a sigh of relief and changed my thought patterns to the baby to, "OK, kid. You can come out any time now!"
Sunday morning I got up a little late feeling like crap from the cold that was definitely making it's presence known. K's temp was at 100.2 the first time we checked and then 99.7 the second--perfect! The kids and I went about our normal Sunday routine of slowly getting breakfast and getting a start on the day. And then around 9:00 or so, I started having contractions.
I only timed a few and noticed that they were around four minutes apart but weren't too strong. So, I went into "Panic-Nesting Mode" and started picking up around the house and getting the kids ready for the drop-off to the neighbors'. I stopped timing and did the dishes, cleaned up the bathroom, and put the kids' toothbrushes and hair brushes in their overnight bag. I nagged the kids into their clothes and shoes.
My contractions seemed to slow down while I was scurrying around the house. I finally woke up DH and told him that I was having random contractions, but they weren't regular or very strong yet. And then I started a load of laundry. DH got up and started working on our downstairs bathroom. He even made a quick run to Big Home Store to buy the new toilet. Later he and the now not-so-sick boy and DD#2 spent a while outside shooting hoops and enjoying the beautiful spring-like weather.
I finally sat down again and started timing again, and the contractions were definitely NOT regular. This surprised me as I'd never experienced this many irregular contractions previously. I took a break to eat lunch and call my parents. Around 2:00, I noticed that my contractions were getting somewhat regular again, so I started timing again. And then I finally got a tiny amount of bloody show. Oh!
Now, in making preparations for the possibility of labor on Sunday, DH and I discovered that our neighbor did have Sunday afternoon plans. Her daughter's school rented out an afternoon viewing of The Lorax. And now here it is about 2:30, I'm starting to get regular (although still not so hurty) contractions--great. I tired texting her first. No answer. Then I tried to call her. No answer. THEN I tried her husband's phone. Bah! Left a voice mail. Then she finally calls back. Yep, she's at the movies (She purposely left her phone ON and IN HER HANDS just in case, and apparently her phone did not get any reception at the theatre!). She says that she thinks that they've only got about a half hour left of the movie. No problem here since I still have to call the doctor's answering service, and I know it'll take about 20 minutes for a callback--and my contraction are still not too painful. I tell her to finish the movie, and then we'd bring the kids over. Then I finally place the call to the answering service.
(Why, yes, I made sure I had someone to care for the kids before I called the doctor. AND??? LOL)
The doctor calls back (the fun Indian doctor) and by this time I can confidently say that I've been having regular contractions around 45 minutes or so. I get her blessing to come on in. "OK," I tell her, "but it will probably be another 20 minutes or so as I'm waiting for my babysitter to get home."
I do a last-minute check of my hospital bag and the kids' overnight bag, and before we've even had a spare thought, we see the neighbor pull in across the street. I gather up the kids to take them over, but my neighbor made a beeline to MY house and grabbed them herself. We all walk out the door together, I give the kids a hug and a kiss, and then DH and I are on our way.
Whew!
We finally got to the hospital just before 5:00. In triage, I strip down and get my gown on and then get belted in to the monitor. DH and I notice that the place seems absolutely EMPTY. All of our other experiences, triage was always packed full of laboring mothers. The nurse reassures us, "Oh, they're here all right, we're just good about hiding them!" After getting the baby's heart rate timed for 20 minutes and after MORE waiting, my doctor finally comes in and checks me. I'm only at three centimeters. What? Really? Huh. The doctor tells me that I will definitely be admitted today ("This is your fourth time, I know YOU know when you're in labor!"), but she wants me to walk the halls for an hour first to progress a little more. So, for the first time, DH and I have to pace the halls to get my labor more advanced. Huh.
For that hour, we go back and forth over baby names. He's still debating over Darcy and Elliot. Or...maybe something else. He's considering spelling Darcy like D'arcy. He's still suggesting other names we've discussed. Meanwhile, my contractions are definitely getting stronger. We stop at one point when we see the doc and have a really amusing conversation with her. So, my contractions are stronger, but I'm still able to talk and laugh, for the most part.
At 6:30, we're back in triage waiting for someone to check on me. After what seems forever, a resident finally comes in and yes, I've advanced. I'm at four centimeters, and it's time to "officially" admit me. The one nurse had read over my previous births and says, "I assume you don't want an epidural, right?" Nope, the jacuzzi is MY form of pain medication. But again, I will NOT say no to meds if I feel it gets to that point that I feel I can't handle it.
They put an IV put in my arm "just in case" I need meds later, or I bleed too much during delivery and need a quick transfusion (ugh...really?). The one nurse started my bath in the room and had it ready for me before we even got there. I get in immediately. I am still slow-breathing through my contractions and now the warm water is helping me out, too. DH takes his position in front of the TV but with a view to me, and we settle in for the Main Event.
It seems to me I was in that tub forever. I know the nurse checked the baby's heart rate once and a few other people came in to talk to DH while I was in there, but I couldn't hear since the tub was so loud. I kept having to fill the tub as the water was leaking out and when the level went down, the sprayers would start shooting water all over the floor.
After a while, I started feeling that familiar nauseous/faint feeling during contractions that tells me that it's time to get out of the tub. I was a bit surprised because even though it seemed I'd been in the tub for a while, I also knew that we hadn't been in the hospital too long. I was also starting to get some pain in my lower back (oh no! not back labor again!). Could I really be heading into transition so soon? I stayed in the tub for a while longer, but the nausea and dizziness kept coming, so I finally got out and got in the bed.
I'd only been out a few minutes when the nurse came in again to check on me. I was still doing slow breathing at this point. I asked her if someone could come and check me. She starts going on and on about how if I really wanted it, they could, but you know, some women get really disappointed if they have a certain number in mind and then they get checked, and they haven't progressed as much as they wanted. I tell her, "I'm someone who wants to know how much longer I have to go! So, yes, I really DO want to be checked." While the nurse and I are having this discussion, the doctor shows up and says, "Sure! I'll check you!" (I know the nurse meant well, but SERIOUSLY!)
So, guess what? I'm at seven centimeters. The doc tells me that the baby's head is still WAY up there, though, so she decides to go ahead and break my water in the hopes that it will get the baby to come down. The doc and the nurse inspect my water diligently and finally decide that no, there is no meconium in there (yay!).
Now I had warned the doctor earlier that with my previous births I went into transition almost immediately after my water being broken (always at eight centimeters). The doctor tells me to get gravity working for me to get the head down, and if I go into transition I can try to push past a couple of centimeters. So I decide to get on my hands and knees on the bed.
The contractions are getting more intense, and the nurse and doctor are pretty impressed with me. "Wow. Look at how strong she is!" The nurse tells me that it's possible that the baby may be posterior with that back pain, but hopefully the new position will shift her right around. I'm moaning to DH, "NEVER AGAIN." (I *still* don't see what he found so funny about that. heh.) The doctor steps out (WHY do they do this? WHY?), and the nurse helps put pressure on my aching back, and then DH takes over. I also recall saying quite a few times, "NOTHING should hurt this badly!" I tell DH that if it keeps up, I may even consider asking for something to help take the edge off. He just looks at me with first surprise and then amusement. (Listen, buddy, this is my fourth and FINAL time, I'm thinking I DESERVE something at this point!) I DID say out loud once, "You know, this is all YOUR fault!"
It does not take long, and I am surprised by my body actually starting to PUSH during a contraction. I'm so taken aback. I finally get the message out to the nurse, "PRESSURE!" as I start unwillingly bearing down. She tries to flip me onto my back while she pages the doctor back into the room. Then...the chaos begins.
The doctor and the nurse are trying to get me to lift my butt so that they can get the birthing blanket down, but my body has quite taken over my brain, and it was all I could do to get my hiney up in the air for them. I do recall ONCE trying to switch to a different breathing method, but my body refused the request and just KEPT pushing. And I...the brave woman who had birthed three children au natural...completely started to PANIC. Every time anyone talked to me, no matter what they said, I would yell out, "I CAN'T! I CAN'T!" Because my brain wasn't listening. My body wasn't listening. No matter what anyone said, the baby was coming out NOW.
After a lot of yelling by everybody, I finally focus enough to hear the nurse tell me, "You are having your baby NOW!" She and resident finally get me to get my legs back into position. My husband is trying to get my attention by grabbing my hand and yelling, "You know you can do this!" And then the nurse coaches me through one really, really good push. And then, just moments later, I feel as if my whole body explodes, and THERE SHE IS.
"Holy crap! THAT WAS FAST!"
(The doctor broke my water at 8:20; the baby was born at 8:36!!)
I look over, and I see the tiniest little baby girl ever! DH gets to cut the cord. The baby goes over to the ped nurses who says she's having just a slight difficulty breathing, but that's probably because she came out so fast and swallowed a bit of amniotic fluid, otherwise, she's perfect. Our new little (nameless!) peanut weighs 6 pounds, 4 ounces and is 19 inches long (even smaller than our first!).
I deliver the placenta. The doctor and the resident look me over and at first say I have nothing but a really slight tear that they are not going to repair. But then they look a little deeper, and oh, yes, I have a few tears on the INSIDE. Oh...well, that's new! In order to do the repair, the doctor has to put in a catheter. She says that the one tear is really close to my urethra, and she is putting in the catheter for her own guidance to make sure she doesn't stitch the urethra closed. "Yes, please don't do that!"
While they are repairing me, I get to hold the baby and start to nurse her. Oh! What a peanut! She has the head full of dark hair and DH's pointy nose and yes, she has his long, long eyelashes.
DH and I spend the next two hours debating her name some more. DH refuses to post anything on FB until the name is decided. Eventually, DH decides to go with Sophia--because, really, it just flows with Loretta so well. So, Sophia Loretta it is!
(But even now, when I look at her, she just doesn't really look like a Sophia to me! Maybe a Sophie. DH doesn't want her to be called Sophie, but really, I don't think I'll be able to help it.)
And now, my brother has a niece who shares his birthday. That's kind of nice, isn't it?
(Will try to post about recovery--and maybe put up some more pictures--soon....)
Friday, March 9, 2012
Incidentals
Stuff I forgot to mention, but I want it in the blog for prosperity's sake.
Surprisingly, I did NOT have any weight gain at my last check-up on Tuesday. Yeah, I don't get it, either. I mean, ever since I lost that two pounds, and since I'm at the very, very end of my pregnancy here, I've been kind of taking that as a sign that I can eat ANYTHING I WANT. And I have been. Dunno why the scale was so cooperative last week.
And...I forgot to mention that my Group B Strep was negative. Yay!
And...the name negotiations are STILL going on. There was a bit of excitement yesterday that DH had finally picked a name, but I guess not. But we're definitely getting CLOSER!
I guess these are the top names:
Elliot--and we call her Ellie
Darcy (I'm thinking of spelling it Darsie, tho)
Blythe
Lucy/Lucille
I also suggested Darlene--but I do prefer Darcy.
I would not be surprised if it ended up being Elliot, tho. Swistle's right, it doesn't match our naming pattern, but DH is all, "Yeah, well, we've been traditional for the other three. Let's SHAKE THINGS UP A BIT!"
I'm kinda wishing we had more female relatives with GOOD names that we could use. And I do wish I could talk him into using Loretta as a first name. It does have a sweetness to it, I think. Ah well.
Surprisingly, I did NOT have any weight gain at my last check-up on Tuesday. Yeah, I don't get it, either. I mean, ever since I lost that two pounds, and since I'm at the very, very end of my pregnancy here, I've been kind of taking that as a sign that I can eat ANYTHING I WANT. And I have been. Dunno why the scale was so cooperative last week.
And...I forgot to mention that my Group B Strep was negative. Yay!
And...the name negotiations are STILL going on. There was a bit of excitement yesterday that DH had finally picked a name, but I guess not. But we're definitely getting CLOSER!
I guess these are the top names:
Elliot--and we call her Ellie
Darcy (I'm thinking of spelling it Darsie, tho)
Blythe
Lucy/Lucille
I also suggested Darlene--but I do prefer Darcy.
I would not be surprised if it ended up being Elliot, tho. Swistle's right, it doesn't match our naming pattern, but DH is all, "Yeah, well, we've been traditional for the other three. Let's SHAKE THINGS UP A BIT!"
I'm kinda wishing we had more female relatives with GOOD names that we could use. And I do wish I could talk him into using Loretta as a first name. It does have a sweetness to it, I think. Ah well.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
The 38-week pics!
If you've been over to my other blog, you've already seen these.
The 38-week pictures!
I woke up this morning feeling all "funny" and "weird" and well, exhausted from not sleeping much the night before. After the kids went to school, I went back to bed for another 2 1/2 hours and kept having dreams of babies and going into labor. And yes, I am having Braxton-Hicks contractions which are making me pause and go, "Nooooo...not hurtful enough....." *sigh* But maybe, MABYE I'm feeling the baby start to drop?
It's an icky, windy day here (after the gorgeous, sunny, 60+ degree day yesterday), so I don't want to go anywhere or do anything. But maybe if I actually get off my duff and take a walk I can turn those BH contractions into the real things? Seriously, going into labor right now would be so much more convenient than ANYTIME this weekend. My eldest daughter has a swim meet on both Saturday and Sunday. The timing is NOT right in correlation to this pregnancy, but she's just seconds from qualifying for districts in some of her events. HOW can we not give her the last opportunity to make the cut for districts? So, DH and I have a few back-up plans going on in case the baby decides to come while they are at the meets. I'm starting to get frantic with all the plans on top of plans.
The bassinet is set up on our bedroom (looks as if DH will be sleeping on the couch for a while!). I've got diaper/wipe baskets set up in strategic locations in the house. I've got my diaper bag packed. The car seat is installed. I bought nursing pads and brand-new pajamas as I just couldn't bear to wear the ones I originally intended for the hospital. I've got yet another load of baby clothes in the wash--as another friend stopped by with even MORE pink hand-me-downs (with even MORE newborn-sized clothes!).
I am worried about just exactly how much take-out we're going to end up eating until my parents make it for their intended visits. (Wish I had a Swistle-sized freezer full of muffins!) And how on earth we're going to manage all the shuffling of the kids to all their respective activities?
Sure am looking forward to the hospital food, tho.
The 38-week pictures!
I woke up this morning feeling all "funny" and "weird" and well, exhausted from not sleeping much the night before. After the kids went to school, I went back to bed for another 2 1/2 hours and kept having dreams of babies and going into labor. And yes, I am having Braxton-Hicks contractions which are making me pause and go, "Nooooo...not hurtful enough....." *sigh* But maybe, MABYE I'm feeling the baby start to drop?
It's an icky, windy day here (after the gorgeous, sunny, 60+ degree day yesterday), so I don't want to go anywhere or do anything. But maybe if I actually get off my duff and take a walk I can turn those BH contractions into the real things? Seriously, going into labor right now would be so much more convenient than ANYTIME this weekend. My eldest daughter has a swim meet on both Saturday and Sunday. The timing is NOT right in correlation to this pregnancy, but she's just seconds from qualifying for districts in some of her events. HOW can we not give her the last opportunity to make the cut for districts? So, DH and I have a few back-up plans going on in case the baby decides to come while they are at the meets. I'm starting to get frantic with all the plans on top of plans.
The bassinet is set up on our bedroom (looks as if DH will be sleeping on the couch for a while!). I've got diaper/wipe baskets set up in strategic locations in the house. I've got my diaper bag packed. The car seat is installed. I bought nursing pads and brand-new pajamas as I just couldn't bear to wear the ones I originally intended for the hospital. I've got yet another load of baby clothes in the wash--as another friend stopped by with even MORE pink hand-me-downs (with even MORE newborn-sized clothes!).
I am worried about just exactly how much take-out we're going to end up eating until my parents make it for their intended visits. (Wish I had a Swistle-sized freezer full of muffins!) And how on earth we're going to manage all the shuffling of the kids to all their respective activities?
Sure am looking forward to the hospital food, tho.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
38 weeks and STILL here! ...and NAMES! AUGH!
I'm at 38 weeks and still plugging along! Today I got checked, and my cervix is still at 1 centimeter and the baby's head is WAY up there (the doctors keep having to PUSH on the top of my belly to even get to my cervix!). But the doctor said that my cervix is also really soft, so "Once the baby finally drops, your cervix doesn't stand a chance!" I am sooooo hoping that I will have this baby before my next appointment on next Tuesday! I kept telling everyone today that I am going to start jogging around the neighborhood (or perhaps seduce my husband?) to get this baby OUT this weekend. Come on baby, DROP! LOL
This afternoon I had a ME DAY and used up the rest of a spa giftcard that my husband bought me YEARS ago to get a pedicure. I've always wanted to get a pedicure during that final, huge month of pregnancy, but I've never followed through. Probably because I've basically had all winter babies--and I'm not one to usually splurge on myself like that (hence, still having money on a spa gift card from FIVE years ago!). I figured while I was there, I'd set up an appointment to get my hair trimmed, too. If I didn't get this shaggy mess trimmed now, it probably would have taken me until this summer when my hair really would have been a Hot Mess! I had enough money left on my card to get both the haircut and the pedicure and only pay $10 (plus tip). Lemme tell you, I look and FEEL Fabulous! It felt so nice to get a little pampered before the Big Day! Wish I could afford to get this done more often!
THEN I got home to TWO emails from my apparently-not-in-the-mood-to-discuss-baby-names-lately husband. Um....wow. Lots to consider here!
"I think I prefer Molly, Lucy (Lucille?), Ellie - all with the 'L' thing going, which seems weird with Loretta as a middle name. Oh well. Gun to my head I would probably go with Ellie. Ellie seems like it needs to be short for something, but all those options (Eleanor, Elizabeth, Eliza) I don't really like. Molly as a variation of Mary seems weird. Seems like "Lucy" could be made dirty pretty easily, or "Licey". I still would like to make "Jude" work, but it just won't. Same with Prudence. Another one.... Lacey or Lacy. Same "Licey" problem though"
Then later....
Thinking of going with multiple middle names just as a lark too. Darcy Lucille Loretta Jude
Q"
(CANNOT get my fonts/indents to work right--sorry!)
Well...
I reassured him that most people I know don't think dirty thoughts with Lucy/Lucille or Lacey, and I've NEVER heard anyone call a Lucy/Lacey "Licey" (only BOYS really make fun of other BOYS' names).
Eleanor--OK, except for acquaintance who WOULD think I was naming baby after her!
Baily...meh
Blythe--at first meh, then,"actually...."
Bryn--yes, we know of kid with that name, so NO.
Darcy--at first no, then, "actually...."
Drew--hmmm....
Elliot--possibility
Harper--meh
Jocelyn--yes, possible
Lacey--meh
Laney--no
Nikita--NO
Tegan--just not feeling it.
The more and more I think of Darcy, and yes, Blythe, the more I like them.
I also re-suggested Millicent (Millie!) and Sophia (just don't think he's going for it).
A unique name I've always liked: Breen. (He doesn't like it.)
Idea from one of the girls from my GS troop: Casey (until I remembered Unfortunate Association with Snotty Girl from Oldest's softball team).
And...I still like Prudence and Molly.
Help...Swistle?
Oh! Helen! Still have the "El" sound.... Although, can't really nickname it. "Helly" just doesn't work, does it?? LOL
MORE: He just suggested Elsie. I told him that unfortunately, it makes me think of possible names for a COW. Sorry.
UPDATED AGAIN: He just corrected me. It's not Elsie. It's ELISE. OH! (Still like Darcy--or Darsie--better, tho.)
This afternoon I had a ME DAY and used up the rest of a spa giftcard that my husband bought me YEARS ago to get a pedicure. I've always wanted to get a pedicure during that final, huge month of pregnancy, but I've never followed through. Probably because I've basically had all winter babies--and I'm not one to usually splurge on myself like that (hence, still having money on a spa gift card from FIVE years ago!). I figured while I was there, I'd set up an appointment to get my hair trimmed, too. If I didn't get this shaggy mess trimmed now, it probably would have taken me until this summer when my hair really would have been a Hot Mess! I had enough money left on my card to get both the haircut and the pedicure and only pay $10 (plus tip). Lemme tell you, I look and FEEL Fabulous! It felt so nice to get a little pampered before the Big Day! Wish I could afford to get this done more often!
THEN I got home to TWO emails from my apparently-not-in-the-mood-to-discuss-baby-names-lately husband. Um....wow. Lots to consider here!
"I think I prefer Molly, Lucy (Lucille?), Ellie - all with the 'L' thing going, which seems weird with Loretta as a middle name. Oh well. Gun to my head I would probably go with Ellie. Ellie seems like it needs to be short for something, but all those options (Eleanor, Elizabeth, Eliza) I don't really like. Molly as a variation of Mary seems weird. Seems like "Lucy" could be made dirty pretty easily, or "Licey". I still would like to make "Jude" work, but it just won't. Same with Prudence. Another one.... Lacey or Lacy. Same "Licey" problem though"
Then later....
"I like these.....and honestly, I'm cooling on Lucy and Molly.
Bailey - not a fan of last names for first names, but I like this one.
Blythe -
Bryn - do we know a Bryn?
Darcy
Drew
Elliot (this could be the longer version of Ellie, plus troves of Elllll eeeee ooooot jokes.... ouuuuch)
Harper - again with the last names, but I've always liked this one
Jocelyn - shortened to Joss, like Joss Stone
Lacey - "Licey"
Laney
Nikita
Tegan
Of those, I really like Darcy, Elliot (isn't that the doctor on Scrubs?), Bailey, Bryn.
(CANNOT get my fonts/indents to work right--sorry!)
Well...
I reassured him that most people I know don't think dirty thoughts with Lucy/Lucille or Lacey, and I've NEVER heard anyone call a Lucy/Lacey "Licey" (only BOYS really make fun of other BOYS' names).
Eleanor--OK, except for acquaintance who WOULD think I was naming baby after her!
Baily...meh
Blythe--at first meh, then,"actually...."
Bryn--yes, we know of kid with that name, so NO.
Darcy--at first no, then, "actually...."
Drew--hmmm....
Elliot--possibility
Harper--meh
Jocelyn--yes, possible
Lacey--meh
Laney--no
Nikita--NO
Tegan--just not feeling it.
The more and more I think of Darcy, and yes, Blythe, the more I like them.
I also re-suggested Millicent (Millie!) and Sophia (just don't think he's going for it).
A unique name I've always liked: Breen. (He doesn't like it.)
Idea from one of the girls from my GS troop: Casey (until I remembered Unfortunate Association with Snotty Girl from Oldest's softball team).
And...I still like Prudence and Molly.
Help...Swistle?
Oh! Helen! Still have the "El" sound.... Although, can't really nickname it. "Helly" just doesn't work, does it?? LOL
MORE: He just suggested Elsie. I told him that unfortunately, it makes me think of possible names for a COW. Sorry.
UPDATED AGAIN: He just corrected me. It's not Elsie. It's ELISE. OH! (Still like Darcy--or Darsie--better, tho.)
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Unintentional Nesting + 37 Weeks, OMG!
So, hubby and I are trying to get ready for this new addition. DH finally decided to make a few phone calls to get our house re-financed--which we've been meaning to do for two years now. Anyway, along with a re-finance comes an Appraiser! TO your house! To take pictures! Outside AND IN! Oh...dear.
That meant that for several days there I had to be Miss Suzie Homemaker and bust a move with cleaning the house. And I don't really mean the dusty furniture or windows. I'm sure any appraiser doesn't care about that, really (um, I HOPE not!). I had to pick up all the CLUTTER that five very cluttery people leave all over the house. Ugh.
I tried doing a little bit at a time considering my "condition" and energy levels and the kids were home on winter break (yeah, try cleaning with THOSE freaks in the house!) and needed to be carted to different activities and the fact that What Not To Wear is on at noon every day. Ahem. But by the weekend, there was still a LOT to do. And she was supposed to be here by 10am on Monday. D'oh!
Well, I properly wore my body out getting stuff done in all the rooms in the house. Kitchen, LR, Den, my bedroom, and the girls' bedroom--even some of the proposed nursery. By Sunday afternoon, even though I'd been working all that time, it still didn't look like much got accomplished. I planted my tired butt firmly on the couch and resolved myself to the fact that a) the boy's room (the messiest of them ALL) would never get done on time and b) my husband, who spent most of his time cleaning out the garage and yes, even part of the nursery, apparently thought I was being lazy. I was way too exhausted and in too much pain to argue.
I tidied up most of the rest Monday morning. The boy's room still looked well, like a BOY lived in it, but at least one could WALK into the room. I did not have time to sweep the bedroom floors before the appraiser got here. And oh, did you know that appraisers have to check the attic, too? Yeah, well, no one told US, so shoving all the sheets and comforters out of the way in the linen closet which has the attic access while she was here was interesting.
We now have a PERFECTLY UNCLUTTERED HOUSE! And every time a kid throws his coat/boots in the middle of the floor or brushes the crumbs from their toast onto the floor, I go a bit mental on them. Even more so than normal! Because, darnit, I want to KEEP the house uncluttered--at least until after the baby gets here, mkay? Work with me, children!!
I used to be such a NICE, SWEET person. Then I turned into a Mom, and I feel like Bill Cosby's wife--that I have a permanent scowl on my face now. Oh, I do miss the fun me! The kids would miss her if they knew she ever existed!
And...I also had my 37 week appointment yesterday. I got to see my primary doctor, and all is well. Actually, I gained almost THREE pounds, so yeah, I guess I caught up on that weight loss from a few weeks ago, eh? (But now I'm CRAVING chocolate and CARBS and failing in my normal success of NOT going down the candy aisle at the store.) The doc joked with me that she was just on call, so she won't be on call much the next few weeks.... And then she checked her schedule and said, "OK, I'm on call on March 16. That would be a good day. Go into labor on that day, OK?" I told her I'd tell my mother to get ready. Ha!
Well, baby was definitely NOT ready as of yesterday. I'm still only at one centimeter and "long". Interestingly, I started noticing yesterday afternoon that my hip and back weren't hurting quite as much as normal, and I can almost walk without a hitch.
After my appointment, I went to the Baby R Store and bought the sponge insert for the baby bathtub and a blue crib sheet. Then I realized that I also need a baby book. I decided to wait on that expense until next week. And I saw the cutest outfit that I'm cursing myself for not splurging on. It's a set of summer rompers/shorts--the one shirt has a crab on it. The other shirt has "Pinch me I'm cute" on it. The shorts have a crab on the butt. REALLY should go back and get that next week! HOW did I let myself walk out of there without it?!
One of the school secretaries was chatting with me and told me that a former teacher of the boy's had her baby this morning. When I was halfway down the hall to his cello lesson it hit me--OMG! A leap year baby! How cool is that!!? It hadn't even dawned on the secretary.... Wow. I almost want to go into labor today to share in the awesomeness. Almost....
That meant that for several days there I had to be Miss Suzie Homemaker and bust a move with cleaning the house. And I don't really mean the dusty furniture or windows. I'm sure any appraiser doesn't care about that, really (um, I HOPE not!). I had to pick up all the CLUTTER that five very cluttery people leave all over the house. Ugh.
I tried doing a little bit at a time considering my "condition" and energy levels and the kids were home on winter break (yeah, try cleaning with THOSE freaks in the house!) and needed to be carted to different activities and the fact that What Not To Wear is on at noon every day. Ahem. But by the weekend, there was still a LOT to do. And she was supposed to be here by 10am on Monday. D'oh!
Well, I properly wore my body out getting stuff done in all the rooms in the house. Kitchen, LR, Den, my bedroom, and the girls' bedroom--even some of the proposed nursery. By Sunday afternoon, even though I'd been working all that time, it still didn't look like much got accomplished. I planted my tired butt firmly on the couch and resolved myself to the fact that a) the boy's room (the messiest of them ALL) would never get done on time and b) my husband, who spent most of his time cleaning out the garage and yes, even part of the nursery, apparently thought I was being lazy. I was way too exhausted and in too much pain to argue.
I tidied up most of the rest Monday morning. The boy's room still looked well, like a BOY lived in it, but at least one could WALK into the room. I did not have time to sweep the bedroom floors before the appraiser got here. And oh, did you know that appraisers have to check the attic, too? Yeah, well, no one told US, so shoving all the sheets and comforters out of the way in the linen closet which has the attic access while she was here was interesting.
We now have a PERFECTLY UNCLUTTERED HOUSE! And every time a kid throws his coat/boots in the middle of the floor or brushes the crumbs from their toast onto the floor, I go a bit mental on them. Even more so than normal! Because, darnit, I want to KEEP the house uncluttered--at least until after the baby gets here, mkay? Work with me, children!!
I used to be such a NICE, SWEET person. Then I turned into a Mom, and I feel like Bill Cosby's wife--that I have a permanent scowl on my face now. Oh, I do miss the fun me! The kids would miss her if they knew she ever existed!
And...I also had my 37 week appointment yesterday. I got to see my primary doctor, and all is well. Actually, I gained almost THREE pounds, so yeah, I guess I caught up on that weight loss from a few weeks ago, eh? (But now I'm CRAVING chocolate and CARBS and failing in my normal success of NOT going down the candy aisle at the store.) The doc joked with me that she was just on call, so she won't be on call much the next few weeks.... And then she checked her schedule and said, "OK, I'm on call on March 16. That would be a good day. Go into labor on that day, OK?" I told her I'd tell my mother to get ready. Ha!
Well, baby was definitely NOT ready as of yesterday. I'm still only at one centimeter and "long". Interestingly, I started noticing yesterday afternoon that my hip and back weren't hurting quite as much as normal, and I can almost walk without a hitch.
After my appointment, I went to the Baby R Store and bought the sponge insert for the baby bathtub and a blue crib sheet. Then I realized that I also need a baby book. I decided to wait on that expense until next week. And I saw the cutest outfit that I'm cursing myself for not splurging on. It's a set of summer rompers/shorts--the one shirt has a crab on it. The other shirt has "Pinch me I'm cute" on it. The shorts have a crab on the butt. REALLY should go back and get that next week! HOW did I let myself walk out of there without it?!
One of the school secretaries was chatting with me and told me that a former teacher of the boy's had her baby this morning. When I was halfway down the hall to his cello lesson it hit me--OMG! A leap year baby! How cool is that!!? It hadn't even dawned on the secretary.... Wow. I almost want to go into labor today to share in the awesomeness. Almost....
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