Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Friday, December 20, 2013
Sunday, April 14, 2013
The Worst Hospital Stay EVER!
For as wonderful as Blaine's birth had gone, the hospital stay was equally as lousy.
Blaine was born at lunchtime. Lucky for me, one of the slight perks of this hospital was that food could be ordered from the cafeteria whenever we wanted it (during the day only though I might add -- what about the women who have a baby in the middle of the night?!) So we ordered almost right after he was born. You know, that period of time when you feel like you could eat an elephant. Not just because you haven't eaten in who knows how long, but because for the first time in months you actually have room in your body for food!! No complaints with the actual hospital food. It wasn't amazing but it wasn't bad.
I didn't need stitches this time because I didn't tear! But I did need a shot of pitocin to stop my bleeding. Never had that before. So once that was controlled and I had delivered the placenta, I got all padded and "diapered" up. Then we moved to the recovery wing. And we were put in the room directly across from the nurses station.
Note: Nurses are loud. Even during the hospital's "quiet hours."
The afternoon was pretty uneventful. I tried to sleep when I had the chance but I still had too much post-birth-high hormones to sleep. So I showered and settled in with baby snuggles for awhile.
My midwife came and checked on me.
And Blaine's pediatrician came to check him. Perfect all but a hypospadias. So we would have to see a pediatric urologist about his circumcision.
Grammy and Grampy brought the girls to come meet baby brother. The girls were craaazy. It was dinner time. They were hungry. I was hungry. And by that point, I was ready to go to bed. We didn't even take a single picture. I feel bad that the first family time altogether didn't go better, but it was just bad timing. I'm still sad we didn't get any pictures.
My dinner finally arrived right as Grammy and Grampy were leaving with the girls. Apparently just because you can order any time of the day does not mean they will bring it anytime soon. (I had ordered it almost an hour and a half before it finally came). Blaine wanted to nurse by then. And Owen's sister, Wendy and her family came to visit them too. Their visit was short which was good cause I was ready to eat and crash. As was Blaine.
It was 7 PM by then. So I settled in for a nap while Owen went to grab himself some dinner.
And that's when the hospital interruptions began in earnest.
Nurse to check my vitals.
Nurse to check Blaine.
New nurse introducing herself for shift change.
Old nurse saying goodbye and good luck.
New lead nurse introducing herself for the shift change.
New nursery nurse introducing herself. Also for the shift change.
Old nursery nurse saying goodbye and good luck.
All separate interruptions.
Owen came back some time after those. I obviously hadn't slept.
Then there was the food service quality control questionnaire person.
Housekeeping to empty the garbages and change towels.
Nurse for my vitals.
Nurse for Blaine's vitals.
Separate visits again.
We got about an hour of sleep and then the hospital has this fabulous idea to take all the newborns back to the nursery to be weighed at midnight *sarcasm*. It's fast and not a big deal, but seriously?! Why midnight? And Owen and I are fiercely protective of our newborns so he went and watched through the window while they weighed him.
More vitals checks.
Me.
Then Blaine.
And...every time they checked my vitals, they of course did the wonderful uterus squish. Not unique to this hospital, but super NOT fun anyhow.
We got another hour or so of sleep when we heard another door knock for my absolute favorite interruption of our stay. The nursery nurse. Coming to do Blaine's bath. At 4 AM. Yeah.
Blaine had had an off-reading on one of the oxygen level tests within the first hours after birth, so the hospital's procedure was to wait to bathe the baby until two normal reads had happened. It was around dinner by then and the nurse wanted to wait until family had cleared out and he had nursed and was happy. Then the nurses had a shift change. And it got missed and forgotten. No big deal to me. I figured he would get it in the morning, but his nurse must have been going through her charts in the middle of the night, come across a note for an unbathed baby and decided that it needed to be fixed right then and there. Never mind the fact that our room was dead silent and pitch black when she knocked and came in! I mean, it's not like I'd had a baby recently or anything and that I might actually NEED some rest. I'm pretty sure I was rude when she said she was there to do Blaine's bath, but really? Seriously?!! I sent her away and told her she could do it in the morning.
We had a little break from interruptions for an hour or so after that one (maybe the nurse warned the others that there was a cranky mom in there) but I had been interrupted so many times at that point that my body thought it was daytime and that it was starving. You know the feeling? Ugh. I couldn't fall asleep by then. And I had to wait a couple hours before I could order breakfast.
And by then I had basically been up a full 24-hours with just a few catnaps. Oh, and I'd had a baby during that time too. I. was. so. tired.
So, when the pediatrician came to check Blaine that morning and said something along the lines of, "See you again tomorrow." as he was leaving that I panicked and had Owen chase him down the hall to see if he would sign off on Blaine so we could leave that day. He was more than happy to, he had just assumed we would stay 48-hours like most women do.
My midwife signed off on me also but we still had to wait a few hours until Blaine was 24-hours old so the hospital could get the PKU test done before we could be discharged.
There were more vitals checks for me and Blaine. Another round of shift change introductions and good-byes. Housekeeping again. Lactation consultant. Some nurse from a free hospital program that provides home visits to weigh/measure the baby and make sure things are going well. Blaine did eventually get his first bath.
He was not happy at first...
...but he calmed down some.
After his bath, we had a few more interruptions. No sleep. We gathered all our stuff. Got the PKU test and HOME!!!
Like I said, not huge on a hospital stay to start, but I have never been more excited to leave and be home!!! I felt like every time I got Blaine calmed down and asleep, so I could sleep, someone else would knock on the door and wake me up. And the nurses were LOUD! All. night. long. And it just seems silly to me to not consolidate some of these interruptions and be more considerate. With Miriam and Liesl, the same nurse would check my vitals and then the baby's. All one trip. Not only does that seem more efficient to me, but for heck's sake....they work with women who have just had a BABY!!!! I really wish I had kept count of how many times we were actually intruded on, but I honestly though they would leave me alone during the middle of the night at least.
For our next baby, (because there will likely be a next baby and likely born at this hospital), I decided I'm making a big poster to put on the door to warn all who might enter that I'm a cranky mom who is likely to be really rude if they wake me up and as such they should tread carefully. Rude? Maybe. Appropriate and necessary Definitely.
Now, for starters. I have to add that I'm not huge on the hospital stay in the first place. Sure it's nice having some meals brought to me and being "taken care of" but really, I could get that at home just as well if I asked. Among the worst are the interruptions, noises, lousy food, uncomfortable bed and accommodations, hospital germs and just the obvious fact that I'm not at home in my own familiar surroundings. What can I say? I'm a creature of habit and a hermit! I just like being at home.
Having already had two babies and two hospital recoveries going into this, I would like to say that I'm fairly used to the whole hospital situation. It's certainly not new for me. So, albeit, not my favorite part of having a baby, I know what to expect and can deal with the discomforts just fine. This recovery was a whole different ball of wax though.
I didn't need stitches this time because I didn't tear! But I did need a shot of pitocin to stop my bleeding. Never had that before. So once that was controlled and I had delivered the placenta, I got all padded and "diapered" up. Then we moved to the recovery wing. And we were put in the room directly across from the nurses station.
Note: Nurses are loud. Even during the hospital's "quiet hours."
The afternoon was pretty uneventful. I tried to sleep when I had the chance but I still had too much post-birth-high hormones to sleep. So I showered and settled in with baby snuggles for awhile.
My midwife came and checked on me.
And Blaine's pediatrician came to check him. Perfect all but a hypospadias. So we would have to see a pediatric urologist about his circumcision.
Grammy and Grampy brought the girls to come meet baby brother. The girls were craaazy. It was dinner time. They were hungry. I was hungry. And by that point, I was ready to go to bed. We didn't even take a single picture. I feel bad that the first family time altogether didn't go better, but it was just bad timing. I'm still sad we didn't get any pictures.
My dinner finally arrived right as Grammy and Grampy were leaving with the girls. Apparently just because you can order any time of the day does not mean they will bring it anytime soon. (I had ordered it almost an hour and a half before it finally came). Blaine wanted to nurse by then. And Owen's sister, Wendy and her family came to visit them too. Their visit was short which was good cause I was ready to eat and crash. As was Blaine.
It was 7 PM by then. So I settled in for a nap while Owen went to grab himself some dinner.
And that's when the hospital interruptions began in earnest.
Nurse to check my vitals.
Nurse to check Blaine.
New nurse introducing herself for shift change.
Old nurse saying goodbye and good luck.
New lead nurse introducing herself for the shift change.
New nursery nurse introducing herself. Also for the shift change.
Old nursery nurse saying goodbye and good luck.
All separate interruptions.
Owen came back some time after those. I obviously hadn't slept.
Then there was the food service quality control questionnaire person.
Housekeeping to empty the garbages and change towels.
Nurse for my vitals.
Nurse for Blaine's vitals.
Separate visits again.
We got about an hour of sleep and then the hospital has this fabulous idea to take all the newborns back to the nursery to be weighed at midnight *sarcasm*. It's fast and not a big deal, but seriously?! Why midnight? And Owen and I are fiercely protective of our newborns so he went and watched through the window while they weighed him.
More vitals checks.
Me.
Then Blaine.
And...every time they checked my vitals, they of course did the wonderful uterus squish. Not unique to this hospital, but super NOT fun anyhow.
We got another hour or so of sleep when we heard another door knock for my absolute favorite interruption of our stay. The nursery nurse. Coming to do Blaine's bath. At 4 AM. Yeah.
Blaine had had an off-reading on one of the oxygen level tests within the first hours after birth, so the hospital's procedure was to wait to bathe the baby until two normal reads had happened. It was around dinner by then and the nurse wanted to wait until family had cleared out and he had nursed and was happy. Then the nurses had a shift change. And it got missed and forgotten. No big deal to me. I figured he would get it in the morning, but his nurse must have been going through her charts in the middle of the night, come across a note for an unbathed baby and decided that it needed to be fixed right then and there. Never mind the fact that our room was dead silent and pitch black when she knocked and came in! I mean, it's not like I'd had a baby recently or anything and that I might actually NEED some rest. I'm pretty sure I was rude when she said she was there to do Blaine's bath, but really? Seriously?!! I sent her away and told her she could do it in the morning.
We had a little break from interruptions for an hour or so after that one (maybe the nurse warned the others that there was a cranky mom in there) but I had been interrupted so many times at that point that my body thought it was daytime and that it was starving. You know the feeling? Ugh. I couldn't fall asleep by then. And I had to wait a couple hours before I could order breakfast.
And by then I had basically been up a full 24-hours with just a few catnaps. Oh, and I'd had a baby during that time too. I. was. so. tired.
So, when the pediatrician came to check Blaine that morning and said something along the lines of, "See you again tomorrow." as he was leaving that I panicked and had Owen chase him down the hall to see if he would sign off on Blaine so we could leave that day. He was more than happy to, he had just assumed we would stay 48-hours like most women do.
My midwife signed off on me also but we still had to wait a few hours until Blaine was 24-hours old so the hospital could get the PKU test done before we could be discharged.
There were more vitals checks for me and Blaine. Another round of shift change introductions and good-byes. Housekeeping again. Lactation consultant. Some nurse from a free hospital program that provides home visits to weigh/measure the baby and make sure things are going well. Blaine did eventually get his first bath.
He was not happy at first...
...but he calmed down some.
After his bath, we had a few more interruptions. No sleep. We gathered all our stuff. Got the PKU test and HOME!!!
Like I said, not huge on a hospital stay to start, but I have never been more excited to leave and be home!!! I felt like every time I got Blaine calmed down and asleep, so I could sleep, someone else would knock on the door and wake me up. And the nurses were LOUD! All. night. long. And it just seems silly to me to not consolidate some of these interruptions and be more considerate. With Miriam and Liesl, the same nurse would check my vitals and then the baby's. All one trip. Not only does that seem more efficient to me, but for heck's sake....they work with women who have just had a BABY!!!! I really wish I had kept count of how many times we were actually intruded on, but I honestly though they would leave me alone during the middle of the night at least.
For our next baby, (because there will likely be a next baby and likely born at this hospital), I decided I'm making a big poster to put on the door to warn all who might enter that I'm a cranky mom who is likely to be really rude if they wake me up and as such they should tread carefully. Rude? Maybe. Appropriate and necessary Definitely.
Sunday, April 07, 2013
Blaine's Birth Story
Miriam was born 8 days after her estimated due date. Liesl was 3 days after. Going into this pregnancy I just expected to go beyond my due date again. Then the contractions started. In early to mid June.
Ridiculous.
By the end of June, they had evened out and I would contract all day and all night (about 15 minutes apart) with HARD contractions...at least hard for Braxton Hicks contractions, of course.
It completely changed my "this baby will be late" mindset and I started thinking I might actually have a baby come early. It made me panic. I wasn't ready. I hadn't washed and sorted clothes. I hadn't toured the hospital (new hospital for us so I was actually worried about that) or pre-registered. I was still working on projects and hadn't finished my list of things I wanted done before my life was unpredictable again (even if it is only for a short while). I really hadn't "nested" at all because I figured I still had plenty of time to do that.
The morning of my baby shower, June 30, I woke up nauseated and eventually was throwing up. Tell-tale signs of early labor for me. I figured I would have a baby within a week. Ha! Boy, was I wrong.
I made it clear till July 22, the ever disappointing "due" date. And then I just kept on being pregnant. By this point, every day crawled. by. so. slowly. I was bored. The girls were bored. I was out of activities to keep us occupied while we waited and out of energy to do anything anyhow! And I was pretty depressed to still be hugely pregnant in the middle of a sweltering southern summer when I really, really thought I should be holding my sweet baby OUTSIDE my body by then. Yet, every day I woke up and I was still not in labor and I just knew deep down that despite the regular contractions it wasn't the day. And every morning i would sob and boohoo and say "I just want to crawl in a hole a die" and on and on. This might seem dramatic, but if you know ANYTHING about the emotional state of a 40+ weeks pregnant woman (and me at 40+ weeks on top of that) you know that regardless of facts, the overdue pregnant woman is SURE she will be pregnant for.ev.er. And then this continued for 10 --- TEN!!! Days. I was miserable, but I tried to keep it together for most people, because most people (even family members) do not understand or support my desire and insistence on my babies coming in their own time with as few interventions as possible. So rather than hear negative and demeaning comments, I keep on a happy face clear through the end.
The girls' labors both started right around 5 a.m. and although I would have welcomed some labor-beginning excitement (like a different time of day or a different type of start -- maybe) this birth started out much like the others: downward pressure/cramping and spotting, right at 5 a.m. And all those "hard" Braxton-Hicks contractions suddenly seemed pathetically wimpy compared with the intensity of the current contractions I was feeling. I knew it was go time even though I had only felt 2 or 3 contractions so far.
Owen was fidgeting, but not really awake and I figured with my speedy-birth track record I should at least give him a heads up. Well, he jumped out of bed and was ready to go in a matter of minutes. I tried to tell him I was just getting started, but he called his dad to come over and stay with the girls while they slept and he insisted we go to the hospital right away. I can't say I argued too much since I was pretty terrified of not making it in time and having a birth in. the. car. Or in the waiting room. Or at home (although I'm totally ok with PLANNED home births). So, we set off and called the midwife to let her know we would be there shortly.
When we arrived, there was a set of hoops to jump through before actually being admitted into labor and delivery. Our midwife had told us to warn them of my precipitous births and they would push me through so I didn't have a repeat Liesl experience (born in admitting in one of the monitoring rooms). They had us up to a room in 10-15 minutes.
Our nurse got us settled, brought me a birth ball to bounce on, some ice chips to chomp on and we found some Olympic tennis for me to zone out to and then. we. waited. And waited. And waited. Or rather, Owen waited.
I tried the birth ball for a few contractions but it just seemed to make my labor pick up. Any movement did really. Textbook labor. Moving speeds it up. Being still slows if down. So I held still. Real still.
I knew subconsciously what I was doing, but would not admit if to myself or to anyone else around at the time. I realize now that Liesl's birth was so fast and so furious that I had enough emotional damage/scarring/trauma from it to be terrified of pushing. Which really makes NO sense, because really, pushing for 2 minutes is a great way to get a baby out and have it over with. My brain just couldn't handle the speed of her birth though, and by the time I was holding her I still hadn't even wrapped my thoughts around being in labor. And I was done already! It was a weird feeling and even though it was fast and over with before I could really worry about it being hard, I had very little desire to do it that way ever again. So, every time I moved, even slightly, I felt my labor pick up. The contractions would get harder and longer and I would panic (internally) that I was losing control and it would go too fast. I did NOT want to lose control. I did NOT want it to go fast. I was NOT ready for the humble, helpless, no-choice-but-to-push-through-it feeling. And with labor, those are all quite literal. There really is no other way around except through. And it's hard. And I hate it at times. But afterward, once I have made it through the tough parts, and feel like I have been to hell and back and survived to tell the tale. Oh, that exhilaration is indescribable. I LOVE that part! It's worth it EVERY time.
I probably would have stayed camped on that bed completely still for the rest of the day if not for my wise midwife. She checked me around 11:30 a.m. And I was an 8/9 (8 relaxed, 9 during a contraction). My bag of waters was still intact and had she ruptured it, we would have been done right there. She asked if she could, and I very firmly said "no." Looking back, it seems a little silly that I was so apprehensive to move forward through labor when I could just get it over with. But I was. And she listened and left me be.
She stayed in the room this time though and just sat and waited. The nurse sat and waited. Owen sat and waited. If I had had the wherewithal to say anything I would have told them all to "quit watching me because the were making me feel like an animal at the zoo." But I was in labor-land. On a beach in a hammock. Or somewhere calm and relaxing like that and I was not about to talk and break my zen. It stayed that way for what felt like hours (thank you labor-time) but it was probably closer to 15-20 minutes and then the midwife said she was going to do some rounds because if she stayed and waited and watched any longer, it would never happen. But if she left, she knew it would be right away. She also insisted I get out of bed and use the bathroom to empty my bladder. She said it was slowing things up. "Ha! That's what she thinks," I remember thinking to myself. But when she said it, she was really insistent. It was more like a command than a request. So I did. And she was off to do rounds.
I had a couple of contractions on the way to the toilet and while going. And one of them was super hard and I knew what was coming. My water burst. In the most convenient spot ever, the toilet. And then there was a baby head crowning right along with it. Baby was coming fast and I was not in a good spot to be pushing a baby out. I remember Owen telling the nurse, "I see hair!" in a very sing-songy manner. He's been with me through two births already. He knows what happens when my water breaks. A baby comes out! Within minutes. She yelled out the room for a few extra hands since the midwife was still out and pleaded with me to get back to the bed. I stayed right where I was. And the nurse and Owen started screaming at me to get back to the bed and something about not having the baby in the toilet. (Owen says they weren't screaming. It seemed like screaming to me. And I could tell they were panicked that I was over a toilet with the baby crowing). I remember thinking that I would be able to move when I got a break in contractions. But it wouldn't come. I had one, then it double-peaked, then triple-peaked. They were shouting. I was pushing (involuntarily). I just could not will my legs to move. I could not form the words to tell them I would move when the contraction stopped. I could not stop pushing. It was a pretty crazy few minutes (seemed longer to me -- again, labor-time).
The contraction did finally stop. I sprinted (Owen says it was more like a hobble. It felt like a sprint) to the bed and the midwife showed up just in time for the grand finale. Owen caught this time. And at 12:30 p.m. we welcomed this handsome little boy into our family.
This has been my favorite birth so far. Is that bad that I have a favorite? Maybe. Oh well. With Miriam, I was terrified of the unknown. (All I had ever been told by friends and family was how HORRIBLE and PAINFUL birth were. That is, until Bita and Chris got their two cents in. I'm so grateful for that. I still feel like they and and Bita's parents were instruments in the Lord's hand guiding Owen and I toward the course we needed to be on to bring our babies into the world.) And we ended up fighting with the doctor just to have a normal, natural birth. It was not ideal, but her birth definitely worked out. Liesl's was pretty good, but soooo fast. Fast can be a great thing, but it was hard on me emotionally more than anything. So finally having a birth that I felt calm and confident and strong and that wasn't fast and furious was really nice. I had a wonderful nurse and an amazing midwife. And it just turned out really well. There was a different sense of satisfaction that I hadn't felt before. Sure, with the girls I had succeeded in my goal of a low/no-intervention birth. I had them unmedicated. I had a healthy baby. I was healthy. Those were all great things. But something about the peace and control I felt during Blaine's birth was just enjoyable. I really was content just contracting and waiting. I was in no rush. And not just because I was dreading the last moments. Labor is just such a unique period of time. It's quick, yet lasts forever. It's hard, yet innate. It's calm, yet chaotic. It's painful, yet joyous. And most importantly, it's the beginning and the end.
Up next....the miserable hospital stay (seriously....the worst EVER)
Ridiculous.
By the end of June, they had evened out and I would contract all day and all night (about 15 minutes apart) with HARD contractions...at least hard for Braxton Hicks contractions, of course.
It completely changed my "this baby will be late" mindset and I started thinking I might actually have a baby come early. It made me panic. I wasn't ready. I hadn't washed and sorted clothes. I hadn't toured the hospital (new hospital for us so I was actually worried about that) or pre-registered. I was still working on projects and hadn't finished my list of things I wanted done before my life was unpredictable again (even if it is only for a short while). I really hadn't "nested" at all because I figured I still had plenty of time to do that.
The morning of my baby shower, June 30, I woke up nauseated and eventually was throwing up. Tell-tale signs of early labor for me. I figured I would have a baby within a week. Ha! Boy, was I wrong.
I made it clear till July 22, the ever disappointing "due" date. And then I just kept on being pregnant. By this point, every day crawled. by. so. slowly. I was bored. The girls were bored. I was out of activities to keep us occupied while we waited and out of energy to do anything anyhow! And I was pretty depressed to still be hugely pregnant in the middle of a sweltering southern summer when I really, really thought I should be holding my sweet baby OUTSIDE my body by then. Yet, every day I woke up and I was still not in labor and I just knew deep down that despite the regular contractions it wasn't the day. And every morning i would sob and boohoo and say "I just want to crawl in a hole a die" and on and on. This might seem dramatic, but if you know ANYTHING about the emotional state of a 40+ weeks pregnant woman (and me at 40+ weeks on top of that) you know that regardless of facts, the overdue pregnant woman is SURE she will be pregnant for.ev.er. And then this continued for 10 --- TEN!!! Days. I was miserable, but I tried to keep it together for most people, because most people (even family members) do not understand or support my desire and insistence on my babies coming in their own time with as few interventions as possible. So rather than hear negative and demeaning comments, I keep on a happy face clear through the end.
The girls' labors both started right around 5 a.m. and although I would have welcomed some labor-beginning excitement (like a different time of day or a different type of start -- maybe) this birth started out much like the others: downward pressure/cramping and spotting, right at 5 a.m. And all those "hard" Braxton-Hicks contractions suddenly seemed pathetically wimpy compared with the intensity of the current contractions I was feeling. I knew it was go time even though I had only felt 2 or 3 contractions so far.
Owen was fidgeting, but not really awake and I figured with my speedy-birth track record I should at least give him a heads up. Well, he jumped out of bed and was ready to go in a matter of minutes. I tried to tell him I was just getting started, but he called his dad to come over and stay with the girls while they slept and he insisted we go to the hospital right away. I can't say I argued too much since I was pretty terrified of not making it in time and having a birth in. the. car. Or in the waiting room. Or at home (although I'm totally ok with PLANNED home births). So, we set off and called the midwife to let her know we would be there shortly.
When we arrived, there was a set of hoops to jump through before actually being admitted into labor and delivery. Our midwife had told us to warn them of my precipitous births and they would push me through so I didn't have a repeat Liesl experience (born in admitting in one of the monitoring rooms). They had us up to a room in 10-15 minutes.
Our nurse got us settled, brought me a birth ball to bounce on, some ice chips to chomp on and we found some Olympic tennis for me to zone out to and then. we. waited. And waited. And waited. Or rather, Owen waited.
I tried the birth ball for a few contractions but it just seemed to make my labor pick up. Any movement did really. Textbook labor. Moving speeds it up. Being still slows if down. So I held still. Real still.
 |
| How's that for a glamour shot? I might look like I'm in pain, but the look is really more of a, "I could kill you for taking a picture of me while I'm in labor and look like this" look. I was obviously super thrilled that he was taking pictures. |
I knew subconsciously what I was doing, but would not admit if to myself or to anyone else around at the time. I realize now that Liesl's birth was so fast and so furious that I had enough emotional damage/scarring/trauma from it to be terrified of pushing. Which really makes NO sense, because really, pushing for 2 minutes is a great way to get a baby out and have it over with. My brain just couldn't handle the speed of her birth though, and by the time I was holding her I still hadn't even wrapped my thoughts around being in labor. And I was done already! It was a weird feeling and even though it was fast and over with before I could really worry about it being hard, I had very little desire to do it that way ever again. So, every time I moved, even slightly, I felt my labor pick up. The contractions would get harder and longer and I would panic (internally) that I was losing control and it would go too fast. I did NOT want to lose control. I did NOT want it to go fast. I was NOT ready for the humble, helpless, no-choice-but-to-push-through-it feeling. And with labor, those are all quite literal. There really is no other way around except through. And it's hard. And I hate it at times. But afterward, once I have made it through the tough parts, and feel like I have been to hell and back and survived to tell the tale. Oh, that exhilaration is indescribable. I LOVE that part! It's worth it EVERY time.
I probably would have stayed camped on that bed completely still for the rest of the day if not for my wise midwife. She checked me around 11:30 a.m. And I was an 8/9 (8 relaxed, 9 during a contraction). My bag of waters was still intact and had she ruptured it, we would have been done right there. She asked if she could, and I very firmly said "no." Looking back, it seems a little silly that I was so apprehensive to move forward through labor when I could just get it over with. But I was. And she listened and left me be.
She stayed in the room this time though and just sat and waited. The nurse sat and waited. Owen sat and waited. If I had had the wherewithal to say anything I would have told them all to "quit watching me because the were making me feel like an animal at the zoo." But I was in labor-land. On a beach in a hammock. Or somewhere calm and relaxing like that and I was not about to talk and break my zen. It stayed that way for what felt like hours (thank you labor-time) but it was probably closer to 15-20 minutes and then the midwife said she was going to do some rounds because if she stayed and waited and watched any longer, it would never happen. But if she left, she knew it would be right away. She also insisted I get out of bed and use the bathroom to empty my bladder. She said it was slowing things up. "Ha! That's what she thinks," I remember thinking to myself. But when she said it, she was really insistent. It was more like a command than a request. So I did. And she was off to do rounds.
I had a couple of contractions on the way to the toilet and while going. And one of them was super hard and I knew what was coming. My water burst. In the most convenient spot ever, the toilet. And then there was a baby head crowning right along with it. Baby was coming fast and I was not in a good spot to be pushing a baby out. I remember Owen telling the nurse, "I see hair!" in a very sing-songy manner. He's been with me through two births already. He knows what happens when my water breaks. A baby comes out! Within minutes. She yelled out the room for a few extra hands since the midwife was still out and pleaded with me to get back to the bed. I stayed right where I was. And the nurse and Owen started screaming at me to get back to the bed and something about not having the baby in the toilet. (Owen says they weren't screaming. It seemed like screaming to me. And I could tell they were panicked that I was over a toilet with the baby crowing). I remember thinking that I would be able to move when I got a break in contractions. But it wouldn't come. I had one, then it double-peaked, then triple-peaked. They were shouting. I was pushing (involuntarily). I just could not will my legs to move. I could not form the words to tell them I would move when the contraction stopped. I could not stop pushing. It was a pretty crazy few minutes (seemed longer to me -- again, labor-time).
The contraction did finally stop. I sprinted (Owen says it was more like a hobble. It felt like a sprint) to the bed and the midwife showed up just in time for the grand finale. Owen caught this time. And at 12:30 p.m. we welcomed this handsome little boy into our family.
 |
| BIG baby |
This has been my favorite birth so far. Is that bad that I have a favorite? Maybe. Oh well. With Miriam, I was terrified of the unknown. (All I had ever been told by friends and family was how HORRIBLE and PAINFUL birth were. That is, until Bita and Chris got their two cents in. I'm so grateful for that. I still feel like they and and Bita's parents were instruments in the Lord's hand guiding Owen and I toward the course we needed to be on to bring our babies into the world.) And we ended up fighting with the doctor just to have a normal, natural birth. It was not ideal, but her birth definitely worked out. Liesl's was pretty good, but soooo fast. Fast can be a great thing, but it was hard on me emotionally more than anything. So finally having a birth that I felt calm and confident and strong and that wasn't fast and furious was really nice. I had a wonderful nurse and an amazing midwife. And it just turned out really well. There was a different sense of satisfaction that I hadn't felt before. Sure, with the girls I had succeeded in my goal of a low/no-intervention birth. I had them unmedicated. I had a healthy baby. I was healthy. Those were all great things. But something about the peace and control I felt during Blaine's birth was just enjoyable. I really was content just contracting and waiting. I was in no rush. And not just because I was dreading the last moments. Labor is just such a unique period of time. It's quick, yet lasts forever. It's hard, yet innate. It's calm, yet chaotic. It's painful, yet joyous. And most importantly, it's the beginning and the end.
Up next....the miserable hospital stay (seriously....the worst EVER)
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Woah
Check it out! Haylee is putting up a post!!!
I got my very first techie gadget that is all my own for Christmas. It's an iPod touch and other than the fact that I have no clue how to work Apple products yet I am pretty excited about it. Maybe, and that's a big maybe, it will mean I blog more than twice a year. There is just something about the simplicity of not having to sit at the computer and load my pictures, then find and organize and edit them, then put them into blogger. Yada, yada. It makes me tired just thinking about it. Anyway, speaking of pictures...
This is Blaine at nearly 5 months old. He sure is a cutie.
I got my very first techie gadget that is all my own for Christmas. It's an iPod touch and other than the fact that I have no clue how to work Apple products yet I am pretty excited about it. Maybe, and that's a big maybe, it will mean I blog more than twice a year. There is just something about the simplicity of not having to sit at the computer and load my pictures, then find and organize and edit them, then put them into blogger. Yada, yada. It makes me tired just thinking about it. Anyway, speaking of pictures...
This is Blaine at nearly 5 months old. He sure is a cutie.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Miriam's First Loose Tooth
We've hit a major milestone at our house: Miriam has lost her first baby tooth. I can't believe it! She's only four and a half!! I guess the theory that the earlier they teethe, the earlier they lose their baby teeth is spot on. She cut her first tooth at 5 months old to-the-day. But even she seems soooo young to me to be losing teeth already.
Before
After
We first noticed the tooth was loose on the 8th when we were flossing/brushing for the night. I'm pretty sure it wasn't loose even just that morning when we brushed teeth. It was definitely NOT loose the night before at bedtime.
Miriam wiggled it around every day and was constantly checking it out in the mirror. Like every 5 minutes. No joke. Then on Wednesday, the15th, after I had the girls put in bed (but, of course, not asleep) Miriam came busting out her door proudly proclaiming that her tooth had come out!! And, in typical fashion for our household, it was one of those moments of mass chaos. I was already on the phone with Owen (he was in Myrtle Beach on a business trip) and Blaine had just started screaming his little lungs out, so when Miriam came out of her room, she got snapped at just for being out of bed.
I'm not getting much sleep these days so I'm tired...and snappy. Judge me.
But then what she was saying clicked...what, your tooth is out already?!!!! "Where'd you put it?" I asked. "Under my pillow for the Tooth Fairy to find it!" was her duh, why are you even asking such a dumb question response. I guess she didn't get the memo that the first child losing her first tooth is kind of a big deal and mom wants to see the little tooth BEFORE you put it under your pillow. Well, she went to grab it and somewhere between all the previously mentioned chaos and Liesl jumping around on Miriam's bunk, that little bugger went missing. Ensue more chaos in the form of lots and lots of tears. She was certain the Tooth Fairy would skip her for good without the tooth to trade. I told her we would find it in the morning and put it out the next night. That gave me some time to put a few Tooth Fairy traditions together too. We did find it in the morning and kept it safe all day to put out last night.
The tooth pouch
Growing up, my family had a tooth pillow with a little pocket to leave the "lost" tooth in for the Tooth Fairy to take and then she left her reward behind in the same little pocket. I was planning to make something similar and then stumbled upon this tooth pouch idea and liked it even better. Plus it didn't require stuffing and blind stitching anything closed. A win-win in my book. It was a fast project...or at least it would have been if I wasn't nursing a cranky baby every 5 minutes (I'm only exaggerating a little -- seriously) and had a craft room with everything out and easily accessible already. I spent maybe 20 minutes actually making it, but start to finish it was a 2 1/2 hour endeavor. Yeah. Sigh.
The reward
And now the tooth right next to it is loose too. Ahh, stop growing up, kid! You're killing me.
Before
 |
| Catching a "normal" picture of this little girl is impossible. Pictures like this are her normal. She's such a goof. Good thing I love that about her. |
 |
| Wiggle Wiggle |
After
We first noticed the tooth was loose on the 8th when we were flossing/brushing for the night. I'm pretty sure it wasn't loose even just that morning when we brushed teeth. It was definitely NOT loose the night before at bedtime.
Miriam wiggled it around every day and was constantly checking it out in the mirror. Like every 5 minutes. No joke. Then on Wednesday, the15th, after I had the girls put in bed (but, of course, not asleep) Miriam came busting out her door proudly proclaiming that her tooth had come out!! And, in typical fashion for our household, it was one of those moments of mass chaos. I was already on the phone with Owen (he was in Myrtle Beach on a business trip) and Blaine had just started screaming his little lungs out, so when Miriam came out of her room, she got snapped at just for being out of bed.
I'm not getting much sleep these days so I'm tired...and snappy. Judge me.
But then what she was saying clicked...what, your tooth is out already?!!!! "Where'd you put it?" I asked. "Under my pillow for the Tooth Fairy to find it!" was her duh, why are you even asking such a dumb question response. I guess she didn't get the memo that the first child losing her first tooth is kind of a big deal and mom wants to see the little tooth BEFORE you put it under your pillow. Well, she went to grab it and somewhere between all the previously mentioned chaos and Liesl jumping around on Miriam's bunk, that little bugger went missing. Ensue more chaos in the form of lots and lots of tears. She was certain the Tooth Fairy would skip her for good without the tooth to trade. I told her we would find it in the morning and put it out the next night. That gave me some time to put a few Tooth Fairy traditions together too. We did find it in the morning and kept it safe all day to put out last night.
The tooth pouch
Growing up, my family had a tooth pillow with a little pocket to leave the "lost" tooth in for the Tooth Fairy to take and then she left her reward behind in the same little pocket. I was planning to make something similar and then stumbled upon this tooth pouch idea and liked it even better. Plus it didn't require stuffing and blind stitching anything closed. A win-win in my book. It was a fast project...or at least it would have been if I wasn't nursing a cranky baby every 5 minutes (I'm only exaggerating a little -- seriously) and had a craft room with everything out and easily accessible already. I spent maybe 20 minutes actually making it, but start to finish it was a 2 1/2 hour endeavor. Yeah. Sigh.
The reward
And now the tooth right next to it is loose too. Ahh, stop growing up, kid! You're killing me.
Tuesday, August 07, 2012
Newborn Pictures
Owen's sister, Gina, is very talented and enjoys taking nice photographs as a hobby. And now we live close to her, so I was excited to take her up on her offer of taking newborn pictures once Blaine finally arrived. Neither of the girls have cute newborn pictures...sad. I had professional shots done of both of them when they were around 8 weeks. Blaine is only 6 days old in these. And so precious and adorable.
These next two are my favorites from the few she got. Blaine was being a bit fussy and very awake. He wasn't in the typical newborn picture taking mood apparently.
Can you believe she caught a smile?! I love, love this one. He is such a sweet baby.
These next two are my favorites from the few she got. Blaine was being a bit fussy and very awake. He wasn't in the typical newborn picture taking mood apparently.
Can you believe she caught a smile?! I love, love this one. He is such a sweet baby.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)