Wednesday, January 4th, 6:00 am. We arrive at the hospital for my second induction. I had just scarfed down a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit from Arby's in the parking garage. We get settled into our room and the nurse tells me we will get started on the medication as soon as registration enters me into the hospital computer.
8:30 am: Still no medicine. I'm starting to get annoyed, but they send up breakfast- blueberry pancakes with sausage. This is important, as it turns out to be my last solid food meal for the next 36 or so hours.
9 am rolls around and finally things get started. The nurse informed me that registration had so much trouble because the computer would not accept me as a patient. Apparently it was already entered in the system that I had the baby the other day. My progress is slow and the gel they give me is not softening my cervix.
At 3 pm, my doctor comes in and checks me. He says my cervix is still too hard and high, but I'm dilated to 4 cm, and 60% effaced, so he breaks my water. "One way or another," he says, "we're committed now." I certainly don't remember him asking me or telling me he was going to break my water. He just checked me and asked the nurse for a hook and went to work. PS- Don't listen to their bull shit when they tell you it won't hurt to break your water. It does. It hurts a lot.
Pitocin is started at this time and the contractions are coming hard and fast now that my water is broken. I'm given Nubane (or whatever) for the pain but it's not helping.
At 7, I'm crying and begging for an epidural. The nurse on call is a talkative bitch who keeps telling me it's not that bad. I'm crying during each contraction and cursing the anesthesiologist in between. I try really hard not to yell/scream/get short with Brian, who is looking absolutely terrified at the amount of pain I am in. He tries to comfort me by placing his hand on my stomach, to which I screamed "Don't. Touch. Me!! Just hold my hand." He just held my hand after that.
At 8 pm the anesthesiologist arrives and I am determined to get the epidural in place correctly on the first try. I had a huge contraction during placement and they asked if I wanted to wait. "No!" I choke out and they proceed. It goes in smoothly and he gives me the first dose and it was wonderful. The pain didn't go away instantly but the intensity lessened significantly and my legs started to feel warm and a little heavy. The pain slowly ebbed away over the next 5 minutes and he stayed to make sure that the epi only affected me from the waist down. I was given a catheter and some Ambien and we slept.
Thursday 3 am, my progress was checked and I was fully effaced at the time and I was 6 cm dilated. We stopped pitocin at 11 pm the night before so we were pleased that I was making such great progress on my own! We went back to sleep, trying to get enough rest to prepare for the big moment.
6 am rolls on and I am at 9 dilated. Things are getting exciting. I haven't eaten anything since the day before and have only been able to take small sips of water, in case I need to have a c-section. I have terrible heart burn. I take a Tums and bear it out. My mom and grandma come up.
9 am and I meet my labor and delivery nurse, Jenny. Jenny is a 20-something, no nonsense spunky girl who knows her stuff. She checks me and I am almost a 10. We start practice pushes.
At 9:30, after practicing every contraction, we decide it's time! The nurse has me push once more to engage the baby.... And she has me stop pushing and tells me to hold on, she needs to get the resident dr and the ultrasound machine.
At this point, all hell has broken loose, but I don't know it yet. My mom and grandma are in the lobby waiting, which is next to the nurses station. Jenny is on the phone yelling about needing the ultrasound machine and needing a resident dr. She's going on and on about how the baby is breech and this just turned into an emergency situation. My mom and grandma hear the whole conversation and start freaking out. I have no idea. Jenny comes back in and they check, yep, I'm breech.
She rushes out again and calls my dr, the anesthesiologist, and the nurses all break into action. Brian is tossed some scrubs and told to get dressed immediately. My mom and grandma come in and wish me luck, taking my glasses and jewelry, and I'm carted off to the OR with Brian right behind me.
10 am. Prepped for surgery, shaved, strapped down, hooked up to more monitors and IVs than I can count. A curtain is erected and I can't see anything. I keep my humor throughout the whole thing. I won't go into detail about the surgery, but here's what is important: I'm anemic and have been the whole pregnancy. No one told me. There is a real serious possibility I might hemmorage during the procedure. I don't, but I'm given an extra 4 bags of fluids.
10:38 am- our son is born, feet first! He has huge feet. The nurses tell us this and also "There is no doubt, you have a baby boy!" apparently he's well endowed haha. They cart off Drake and Brian goes out to tell my family the surgery was a success. He calls his family, and I'm stitched up before heading to recovery. It's at this point that I violently vomit all over the anesthesiologist. Nothing but bile. I feel better, though I am shaking violently. I'm moved to recovery where I hemorrhage. I stay there for an hour or so to make sure everything is alright.
|If it looks like I am about to faint... it's because I am.|
Once out of recovery, I'm moved back to the room and they wheel in Drake and everyone ooh's and ahh's.
I'm no longer shaking, but I feel very very drained and it's hard to keep my eyes open. Thankfully, mercifully, everyone leaves us alone and lets me get some much needed sleep.
|New mommy and daddy with the baby|
Friday I get 2 units of blood. I feel much better now. I'm checked every two hours on blood pressure and heart rate and temperature, all of which are really high. I'm kept under close observation and given lots of fluids. My whole body is swollen with fluid from losing a lot of blood and no one can find any veins for blood draws. My feet swell way more than they ever did (including my toes). I'm given Percocet for pain.
Drake turns out to be a pig, just like his mama was! He could not concentrate on breast feeding because my milk had not come in and he could not get the colostrum fast enough. After struggling with it for a whole day and everyone becoming frustrated (baby, mom, dad, and nurses) we all decide he needs to eat, so we go for formula. I cry in relief. I have them bring in a breast pump for me to stimulate my breasts anyway.
Family comes to visit every day. We were so thankful to have every one visit. My parents and Brian's parents visited multiple times (new grandparents- they couldn't keep away!) and Brian's aunt Marti comes by as well.
I'm so thankful to the hospital staff. Everyone was great (minus one bitchy talkative nurse) and I received excellent care. I am not upset about being induced breech, because with how big Drake was, there was a high possibility I would have had a c-section anyway. The scariest part was learning (too late) that I was anemic and that I had hemorrhaged and needed a blood transfusion. That's all behind me now though, and I'm taking iron supplements to correct that. All that being said, there wasn't any other way I could think of to have my son. Sure it was one hell of a ride, but he came into this world on his own terms, and made the grandest entrance he could. I think he's a lot like his mama in that regard :)
I'm doing great today and Drake is thriving! He was given a clean bill of health from his pediatrician and all the nurses were sad to see us go. We were something of a favorite around the birthplace. I was always told what a great patient I was, and this charming little guy just had a way with the ladies. Must get it from his father :)
Sorry this is so long winded, but it has been an incredible 5 days and so much has happened!