My Birth Story: Things don’t always go as planned Part 2

Where did we leave off…

If you haven’t read part one of my version of the birth story, read that here.

For those of you who have, we begin on Thursday, January 13th. I had my pre-op appointment that day with Dr. McMillan and was disappointed to find out about the post-cesarean happenings, but Matt had planned an evening with Indian food and we invited our friends, the Soffes, over to partake with us. Matt was considering it his last culinary hoo-rah before the baby would arrive and wanted to share it. The Soffes came, we partook, and it was delicious. He roasted a whole chicken, folks. My husband is amazing. If you don’t already know this, then you probably a) don’t know him AND b) have never read our blog. Anyhow, delicious food, good company… the evening was a success. I had two more days of work left before the big day, and I remember mentioning to Matt that I just really wanted to be done with work, didn’t want the two more days.

Fast forward to about 12 am. I find myself awake and feeling the urge to use the bathroom- not uncommon for a woman as pregnant as I. I consider myself lucky in the fact that I usually only woke up once or twice to relieve myself during the night, probably a result of not drinking enough water. Here at 12am, I looked at my clock and realized that it was indeed 12 am and that this was my THIRD time getting up to use the facilities in the hour and a half that I had been asleep. Strange. I then also realized that the urge I was feeling was a little more of a pain than usually. Literally- I was feeling pain. Sharp, low pain. I used the restroom and went back to sleep, bothered that I had gotten up so many times already. Next thing I know it is about 12:45 and once again I am up with a low, sharp pain. So sharp that it gets me up out of bed, and in my sleepy stupor I once again head to the bathroom because that is what I usually do when my pregnant self wakes up in the night. As I wake up a little more I realize that I don’t need to go but this pain is a little persistent! I woke Matt up and told him I was hurting and that I was a little nervous- I hoped everything was ok with the baby. We talked about it briefly (“do you want to call the hospital?” “no.” “ok.” ) then went back to sleep. 1:15 arrives and wakes me up again with sharp pain, at which point the thought finally occurs that these pains could perhaps be contractions. I hadn’t thought too much about contractions since I had a schedule… I had a plan that no longer included labor. I continued to feel bouts of pain, which I can now identify as contractions, every ten to fifteen minutes. They woke me up, I jumped out of bed (cause it hurt less standing than laying down) and then wrote down the time because I knew at some point someone would ask me about it. Matt was in and out of sleep as I continued to jump out of bed, turn on lights, walk around, etc. 2:30 rolled around and I decided to call labor and delivery. I knew if I wasn’t going to have a cesarean they would have told me to labor at home a while, but since we knew at this point a cesarean would be necessary they said to call about anything unusual. The nurse there told me I could try a hot bath, drinking some water or a heat pack to see if it slowed the contractions or stopped them, so I told her I’d give that a try and call her later. I knew at this point that walking around felt better than laying down and that I wasn’t getting much sleep so I drank some water and jumped in the shower. The hot water felt good but didn’t slow the contractions. I pretty well knew at that point that the baby was going to come early, but since I knew that the process would be the same whether I went to the hospital then or in a few hours, I decided to my hair and makeup, shave my legs and get dressed. The last thing I wanted was to be dirty, since I wouldn’t be able to shower for a while after the surgery. Once I was all ready, had bags packed and was confident I didn’t want to labor at home any more, I woke Matt up and let him know I was calling the hospital and I felt like we needed to go in. It was about 5:30 am when I called them to let them know we were coming and how long it would be, and then Matt went ahead and showered too. It was all a little surreal.

Driving to the hospital was not at all what you picture. We weren’t rushed. There was no screaming. We just packed the car, calmly drove to the hospital and commented on how weird it was that we were going to have a baby that day. We arrived and went to the ER, since the regular entrance is closed after hours and an awkward orderly wheeled me up to the maternity ward. They weighed me in and immediately got me hooked up to monitors that showed fetal movement and contractions. Some contractions I was having without even knowing it! It was right around shift changes so we had quite a few different nurses at the beginning, but our wonderful nurse from the version, Diane, came in around then and switched with the nurse that had been assigned to me. We were super grateful because the nurse that had been assigned was WEIRD. She was super nice to me and to Matt, but made snide remarks about the other nurses and was rude to all the other nurses, and even the doctor, that came in! We were happy to see her go and so happy Diane would be with me in recovery, especially since she already knew about our whole situation from the version earlier that week. They let us know that the OR would be available in about two hours and we would be good to go. All this monitoring and testing and prep took a long time- we arrived at the hospital at about 6:30 am and found out and heard from the doc at 8 that they would go ahead and get us in around 10.

Hooked up to monitors and ready to go!

At this point (8am) I had IV fluids going already and I still felt pretty calm. I kind of knew what to expect- I knew it would be quick, I knew I didn’t really need to do anything, and I knew once I was stable I would get to hold my baby. The nurse continued to prep everything and right on time they took me in to the OR. Matt left to go put our stuff in the recovery room and was given some awesome surgical gear and I walked with Diane down the hall. Once I walked in the doors, things changed. I got anxious. Really anxious. I held back tears. It was so stark. There were machines and I couldn’t see the faces of all the people because of masks and the surgical table looked more like an altar for sacrifice. It was grim. To be honest, if I weren’t familiar with modern medicine I would think it was the scene of some initiation into a cult. I tried to keep things light and keep my mind off of my impending doom and talk about whatever I could. I talked to the anesthesiologist a lot. He was nice. He explained the process of the spinal and made small talk. Once they were ready to numb me up I lost it a little bit more. My voice was quivering but I was still holding it together- barely. They rolled me on my side, scrubbed with some iodine and inserted the needle. I felt a huge amount of pressure, like when I had the epidural earlier that week, but almost immediately my toes started to numb. Before he could even remove the needle I was commenting on how quickly it was working. They hurried and flipped me back onto my back so the medicine would distribute evenly and had my lay with my arms stretched straight out to my sides. Shortly after that Matt was allowed in the room and I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. He held my hand and I cried and told him I didn’t know why I was crying but that I was ok.

Everything was so foreign- the process had been explained to me so well and yet when it came down to it I felt completely disconnected. Most of the nurses I never met and they never talked to me. Thank goodness for the anesthesiologist who kept me updated all along the way on what was happening and asked how I was doing- otherwise I would have felt more like a cadaver than a soon to be mother. Matt held my hand the whole time as we both sat nervously. It was a bizarre feeling… I felt the pressure of the scalpel, of hands moving around, but I didn’t feel pain. The anesthesiologist warned me “now you are going to feel some pressure as they push the baby out”- boy was he right. That was the strangest part- feeling my belly (my HUGE belly) shrink back down. I remember thinking, “so that’s what my normal belly feels like.” I heard the doctor exclaim “all the pipes are working- she is pooping and peeing all over the place!” before I even heard a cry. I suppose that makes sense… she did come bottom first. Soon I heard that squawk of a cry and one of the nurses commented on the fact that she had hair. They dangled her dripping body over the curtain near my head and said “here’s your baby!” She literally was dripping goo right next to my face and was bright red, screaming at the top of her lungs, but all I could think and say was “she’s so cute!” I loved her then and there.

Getting checked out in the nursery

Matt went back with the nurses to the corner of the OR to clean her up, weigh her and all that jazz. He yelled back that she was 8lbs 9oz- what a whopper! I couldn’t believe I had a baby that big, and at that moment was grateful I didn’t have to birth all 8lbs 9oz of her. I’d been telling people all along that I wanted a big chubby baby, but I didn’t want her to get chubby until after she was born because it sounded so painful to birth a big baby. I guess in some twisted way my wish came true :)

As the doctor and nurses continued to work on me, Dr. McMillan declared to me that he figured out why she couldn’t turn during the version- I have a double uterus! His remark, “we weren’t trying to get her to change addresses, we were trying to change zip codes!” He’s a funny guy. Yep, my uterus is divided with a septum down the middle that separates it into two chambers, and this poor girl was squished into one of them. How I had six ultrasounds and it was undetectable was beyond me, but essentially the other chamber was just smashed to one side and she resided in the other. How’s that for a little birth surprise!?

Once she was wiped off they brought her back and held her to my face so I could kiss her and then they whisked her away with Matt to the nursery. It was about that time that the morphine they gave me kicked in, which I didn’t have a good reaction to. I threw up a couple of times, once in my hair, but I really didn’t care at that point. I started to feel really shaky though, and couldn’t keep my shoulders still. The anesthesiologist said he was going to give me something to help me relax a little, and that is the last thing I remember from the OR.

In the recovery room I was with Diane who was monitoring things as I dozed in and out. Matt came and checked on me at one point but they had to wait a little longer before they could bring my sweet baby in. I barely remember holding her for the first time, but I’m fairly certain I breastfed her at that point and she did great. Family came in and held her and I think I was in and out of sleep at that point as well, although at the time I remember thinking that I was much more alert than I thought I would be. That day is a blur. I remember that I was stuck in bed and that I had to wear these awful compression things on my legs. They made me sweat and they made my legs itch like crazy! I hated those darn things. They were the worst part of recovery.

The next day was my birthday! We had some awesome cupcakes that Candice picked up in Richmond and several people came to visit. It was a busy day with visitors, bathing and getting out of bed. I was doing great though, and so was our sweet baby. They had to continue to check on me at night to give me meds and also bring Charly in to be fed. We opted to keep her in the nursery because we were both so incredibly exhausted. I always thought I would want to keep her in the room with me, but I was honestly relieved to have someone take her at night so I could just sleep. Recovery is serious business!

Sweet Charly girl being held by grandma. I'm recovering in the background.

Sunday was a little more relaxed. The doctor on call came and checked me and said that if we wanted to we could go home that day. We thought we would be there until Monday so we were very surprised. We talked it over and thought that sleeping at home in our own bed would be a good change for us, so we opted to do that. That was our first mistake. We should have stayed the extra day…

The rest of Sunday went well. We packed up, had Charly checked out, arranged for Steve and Lori to come help us out at home, and my co-worker and friend Leonard arranged to pick us up from the hospital in a limo! Yep, we were riding in style!

Matt and I ready to get in the limo- I've still got quite a belly!

The hospital stay itself was pleasant, we had great nurses, and our sweet baby was doing awesome. She was breastfeeding like a rockstar and I was feeling great. Wanna hear more? Part 3 will tell you all about how things went down once we got home.

My Birth Story: Things don’t always go as planned - Part 1

I feel the need to chronicle this birth story starting around 36 weeks- partially because I was such a horrible pregnancy blogger, and partially because that is when everything started to change.

But first a little background. My pregnancy was all sunshine and rainbows. Seriously. Felt great. Easy appointments. Never got sick. I read lots of books and felt confident about birthing. Like everyone recommends, I had a plan. My undergrad degree was in Family and Child Development, so I knew all about attachment and had all sorts of ideas about how I would be as a parent and how I wanted everything to go. My birth plan centered around mobility- I chose an all-natural approach because I felt maintaining my mobility would help me feel empowered and in control and all that good stuff. I was envisioning this great culminating moment (following hours of painstaking labor where my dear husband supports me and gains a new respect for me because I’m a warrior woman), where they handed my baby to me, I lay her on my chest and start the immediate bonding. That was my plan. I’d breastfeed her and we would lay together in the hospital in bliss. Following this bliss I would become a super hip mom, who looked put together and had the most adorable child. Obviously I try to keep my goals realistic.

Ok, back to week 36: this is when the first stretch marks appeared. Yes, its true, I had no stretch marks to be found until week 36. I thought I was free and clear, but lo and behold they began to appear. Deep breath- “its ok” I told myself, “everything has gone so well, I can’t complain about a few stretch marks.” Then one day my feet started to swell. Gross. Every time I looked past my knees I was reminded of a rhinoceros. Another deep breath. Its almost over, then we’ll get to that bliss part.

My 36 week checkup was the day after the rhino feet first appeared. I went to a practice where I saw three midwives on a rotating basis. At this particular appointment I was meeting with B (who shall remain nameless)- the midwife who performed my first ultrasound (read about that trauma here). B rubs me the wrong way sometimes. On this visit B felt around and nonchalantly declared that she thought the baby was breech and that we should do a quick ultrasound to find out. Sure enough, B felt right, and this baby (which I had been told was in a perfect position for weeks) was sunny side up. When I asked what that meant for us she gave some short answers about manually turning her and burning Chinese herbs or doing headstands in a pool. We prodded more and found out that the OB could try a version, which would mean an epidural and a hospital visit, and if that didn’t work we’d get a cesarean. Now, I chose midwifery care for a reason- remember my plan?! I have a plan! B didn’t give us a lot of hope. She set up our next appointment with an OB we had never met and we left with a bad taste in our mouths. Cesarean had not even crossed my mind as an option. I had the perfect pregnancy, remember? I did some research on various exercises and spent my fair share of the Christmas holidays laying inverted on an ironing board- it looks a little like this...

I prayed she would turn. I made jokes about how stubborn she must be, but inside I was scared and frustrated. Despite all my ironing board time and research on breech birth, this little girl didn’t turn. I hate to say it, but for at least one moment I resented her a little for that. The completely irrational side of me wondered why my child would start our relationship out like this. How could she? Just be obedient child! Turn!

A few weeks came and went and this baby STILL did not turn. We met with the OB who answered all of our questions very thoroughly, and oddly reminded me of my dad with his quirky sense of humor. That itself was a tender mercy because it put me at ease several times. We scheduled an external version and Matt gave me a blessing the night before. Up until that point I had high hopes that the version would work but even higher anxiety about the whole process and the possible outcomes. After he gave me a blessing I felt much more calm and peace knowing that no matter what happened we would be ok and our little girl would be ok. That helped me through the entire process.

We showed up at the hospital at 8:30 am for the version. They hooked me up to monitors and our nurse Dianne (who was fabulous) told us about the entire process. Although it was a long day at the hospital, the process itself was quick. The OB did another ultrasound beforehand and discovered one reason this baby may not have moved- the location of my placenta. It was right between her head and feet near the top of my uterus, essentially preventing her from turning in either direction. Confused? Check out this picture- our baby was in the frank breech position.

He went ahead and tried the version anyway, but at that point Matt and I both had a feeling this birth would be cesarean. The version was unsuccessful. Remember that whole mobility thing? And the culminating moment? Yeah, no chance. So much for the plan. I put my efforts into learning about breastfeeding following a cesarean and learning what my options would be to facilitate bonding as soon as possible. I thought that way I could still reclaim my moment in my own way. I had my pre-op appointment on January 13 with the OB and he clarified my options for breastfeeding following a cesarean with the disappointing news that I wouldn’t be able to hold that sweet girl until at least an hour after she was born and that I would be in recovery with just my nurse for that hour. Not only would I not be with my sweet new baby, but I wouldn’t be with my husband either. It seemed at this point that I should get used to plans changing...

We set the date for the cesarean: January 18th. Perfect. 3 days after my birthday, just a few days left to wrap things up at work, and then baby Charlotte would be with us! Knowing when she was coming was actually part of the cesarean I really enjoyed because I’m quite the planner and a bit of a control freak. The irony of this entire birth story will become even more apparent once part 2 comes to fruition, but suffice it to say that I learned very quickly after all these changes that life doesn’t always happen the way you plan.

Ready for more? Part Two is here!

And the fun begins!

In case you haven't heard... our little bun in the oven is a GIRL! Thanks for all those who voted girl on our poll for sending those vibes my way. I like to think it was a joint effort in bringing this about:)

adorable little profile- right?!

saying hello

As soon as we found out at our ultrasound on Wed. (the 15th) we got ta shoppin and hit up Old Navy and Babygap. Both stores had great sales and we loaded up on adorable baby girl clothes. It was a blast. Baby Charly is spoiled rotten already. Speaking of... yep- we have a name! And since neither we nor our families can keep anything a secret, its pretty much public knowledge now that we plan to name this cute little one Charlotte- Charly for short. The stars are aligned in her favor because not only is it our first little girl, but the first grandbaby on both sides of the family, so grandmas, grandpas and all 6 aunts are set to spoil this child. So, as if having two incredibly psyched parents isn't enough, we've got a squadron set to spoil.



Part of my spoil plan includes sewing the room decor. I have an inspiration fabric...

fresh poppies- its fun and femenine

and now I need to choose some other fabrics for the room. They all come from Amy Butler's Midwest Modern and Midwest Modern II lines, so I picked out my fav's so far and have a collage for you all to take a gander at.

hexagon

happy dots

martini

I love all of these prints but want to pick out a scheme that works with the wall color (a sagey green- crocodile tears from olympic paint) and that doesn't totally scream pink, but still has a femenine feel. The inspiration fabric has some great colors in it. Let me know if you come up with any great combinations!

movin' and shakin'

ok, ok. so i'm not the best baby blogger. the fact is, this pregnancy has been pretty hum-drum- and i mean that in the best way possible. i keep waiting for something big to post about, but the fact is this has been (so far) a piece of cake. seriously. early on some nausea, decreased appetite and energy levels, but no puke, no massive weight gain (yet), no crazy anything. i feel bad saying that because i know so many people who are having or have had rough pregnancies. sorry folks. luck of the draw i guess?

anyhow, i figured it was time for some updates! matt and i have both felt the baby move now! i thought i felt something about a week ago, but its hard to know when you have never felt something kick you from your insides before. safe to say now that i am 100% sure i have felt this baby movin and shakin! the kicks always seem to be on my lower left side, so one particularly energetic night for my wee one i had matt rest his hand there for a little while, and lo-and behold he/she gave him a good kick! so cool to feel this little one moving around now.

our next appointment is on August 31st, but we won't do our ultrasound until September 15th when we go to UVA hospital for our echo/ultrasound. that raises the all-important question- what do you guys think- boy or girl? cast your vote on the handy poll to the right:) (ok, so matt reminded me that i already did one of these polls. welp, its getting closer, and ima do it again:)

and now, for your viewing pleasure... my latest belly pic! 17 1/2 weeks.

Ketchup.

Yes, I've used this title for a post before, and yes, I'm using it in the same sense of the word. I thought it was clever then and I still think that, so for my post about all the happenings over the last...month (? eek!) I'm going right ahead and calling it my ketchup post.

And while we are on the subject of ketchup, I remember as a child 1. loving ketchup beyond reason, but most importantly 2. having a small orange cup (70's tupperware style) with the word 'ketchup' printed vertically up the side of the cup. This came to mind as I pondered the appropriateness of duplicating post titles, and it made me happy. Another reason I stuck with it:)

Ok, on to the matter at hand. My last post- June first- detailed my 5k victory. Matt has since filled our blog with delicious recipes, and every so often given me the 'when are you going to post about that doctor appointment?' guilt trip, so here I am. Because we have a lot of ground to cover, and because I like organization, I am detailing the contents of this post below. This is also an aid to you readers who may or may not want to read all my ramblings- feel free to skip to the most interesting section.

1. First OB appointment

2. Mom's visit

3. Free fridays

4. Sunbeams

Number one.

My first OB appointment was June 7th. I'm going to August Health Care for Women. Its about 40 minutes away but is an awesome facility. I would have gone there based on reputation anyhow, but recently the birthing center at Stonewall Jackson Hospital closed, so it really was the closest option I had. Matt is a little bummed about that, mainly because I promised him long ago that if we had a child at SJH, and if it was a boy, his middle name could be Stonewall. Sorry Matt, no chance now.

I met with a CNM (certified nurse midwife) who I had heard good things about. I have been reading all sorts of pregnancy books, so I had some idea of what to expect; blood work, pelvic exam, etc., but a few things did take me by surprise. Can we just say, vaginal ultrasound? Not only did I not know that this would be the type of ultrasound I would have, I didn't know that this type of ultrasound even existed. The rest of the appointment went without a hitch. I met with Mary, and Mom and Matt waited out front since I had the pelvic exam and all. I went and grabbed them and went to the ultrasound room where we waited for Betsy, another CNM. An assistant came in and handed me a blanket with the instructions "bottom's off." This should have been a clue for me, but I figured they just didn't want my pants getting in the way of my waistline. I try to keep this blog G-rated, so I won't give you all the details, but suffice it to say that I had no clue the police-baton shaped probe would be inside of me rather than rubbed on my belly. Here I sat, legs in stirrups, Matt and Mom ooh-ing at seeing the peanut shaped creature with little limbs, just wondering how long this thing is gonna take. Not quite what I pictured my first ultrasound to be. I'm assuming they had to do this kind of procedure because it was so early in my pregnancy- I just wish I would have had some inclination of that before I sat so uncomfortably looking at the baby inside of me!

Aside from the uncomfortable nature of this moment, it was really cool to actually see that little baby so early on. I also was given a projected due date: January 21st! This comes at a precarious time- my birthday is the 15th and Matt's is the 25th. We'll have to have a survey when things get a little closer to see whose birthday you all think the baby will be born closest to.

Here's the little peanut at 7 or so weeks. The circle to the left is the yolk sack. We are looking at the baby with its head on the bottom and a little limb poking out on the top right.

Number two.

Whilst this OB visit was happening, my dear mother came to visit! She came as a Mother's Day gift from us kids, and it was great to spend some time with her. We jaunted around Lexington, got pedicures (so nice on a hot day!), went antique shopping, floated down the Maury, did a little shopping and relaxed. My energy level dictated some of the trip, but it was so fun to be able to take her around to my office and show her the fun little rural place that we live.

Number three.

I think I've mentioned before that I have a great job. If you haven't heard that, let it be known now that I absolutely love what I do. Number three is just one more reason- my boss recently introduced our summer schedule. Basically, she worked out a way to reward us for all the hard work we are doing and are going to have to do this summer by arranging 6 free fridays that we are each assigned this summer. No late hours, so pay cut, no annual leave taken- just straight free days! See what I mean? I have an awesome job. I have already enjoyed 2 of these Fridays. Since my energy is shot by the time I come home from work, these days have given me a chance to catch up on housework and other things I just don't get around to like I used to. Thank you, free Fridays!

Number four.

Matt and I were recently called to teach the 3-4 year old class at church. Our little sunbeams are always a treat. Our class can sometimes be 6 or 7 kids, which is a handful, but man are they cute! We always end up coming home and talking about the funny things they say. Today was a rough day, but Matt told the story of David and Goliath and they were MESMERIZED! While the last child was waiting for his parents to come pick him up he asked if he could play David and Goliath. He was David, Matt was the giant, and he told us step by step what he needed to do, starting with saying a prayer before he picked up his sling! Another kid, while talking about things that we learn to do, asked if we knew how to become zombies. I answered that I didn't, but apparently if you don't go to sleep you become a zombie. Thanks for the info kid, I'll make sure I get some sleep:)

Whew. That was a mouthful. Ok, now that I've got that off my chest, I'm going to watch design star. Farewell!