Powered by Blogger.
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts

Better Late Than Never





Lauren Emerson arrived on October 17 at 7:57 p.m. weighing 7 pounds, 2 ounces and measuring 21" long. She is perfect. Ten tiny (long) fingers and ten tiny (long toes). A full head of light brown hair that stands up in little peaks all over her itty bitty head. She is a champion nurser already and loves to be snuggled. In fact, she loves snuggling so much that I've gotten roughly 6 hours of sleep since she was born. I'm too nervous and tired to let myself fall asleep with her in my arms, so I've been laying in my hospital bed listening to her squeak, which she does with each breath she exhales, while she's splayed out across my chest.






My appointment last week found me 2cm and 100% effaced at 39 weeks 5 days. My membranes were stripped and I was sent home. Nothing happened. No cramping, no bleeding, no pain. And definitely no labor.





On Monday I was having such significant pain with her movements -- not labor pains, just physical pain -- that I called my OB. When he found out I had been having runs of contractions that never progressed for over four days, he rescheduled my appointment for the following day.





I arrived to my Tuesday appointment and was given another internal -- this time I was 4 cm and told I was very effaced. My membranes were stripped again, although my OB said that there was nothing left to strip, they were all gone. He put an induction on the calendar for Friday, but didn't think I'd make it that far. He told me he didn't even think I'd make it to my Tuesday appointment after our conversation on Monday. And his exact words were "You're 4 sonometers dilated and completely effaced. What the hell is going on up there? This should have happened by now." Back home I went.



On Wednesday morning I woke up with the kids and by 9:30 I was having pretty consistent contractions anywhere from 3-6 minutes apart. I told Joe to get coverage for his afternoon cases and called our sitters to make sure we had extra help if we needed it. At 11 I took the kids to gymnastics. By the middle of their class my contractions were picking up in intensity and I called my OB's office. They scheduled me to come in for 1:30, but told me to go straight to labor and delivery if my water broke or if my contractions got closer together and/or more intense. Since I could still talk/walk/smile through most of my contractions I set about the afternoon with the focus on getting to my afternoon appointment.



We got to the OB's office and I was checked again around 2 p.m. This time I was 6 cm, 90% effaced and at a -2 station. My doctor told me I was on the cusp of labor and since we live 30 minutes away from the hospital it would probably be best to go across the street and get checked in, just in case my labor progressed quickly.





By 3 p.m. I was checked in, gowned up and my IV had been placed. I was checked again and I was found to be 6-7 cm. But I was still laughing and smiling, so they had me walk around the hospital for 90 minutes and then come back to sit on the fetal and contraction monitor. My contractions were consistently 4-5 minutes apart, but they were not increasing in number or intensity. So they sent me back out to walk again. I walked for over an hour and came back to be checked again around 6:30 p.m. I was getting frustrated and pissy. I hadn't eaten since 9 a.m., I was starving. And I felt like I was about to be sent home until my "labor was real" (not something you want to hear at 40 weeks, 3 days).



I had them recheck me and I was stuck at a 6 cm, although the baby had descended to a 0 station. I was given the option of leaving and coming back when labor started or having them break my water. I was striving to have as little medical intervention as possible, but felt like breaking my bag was the best option given my lack of progress. My water was broken and within 10 minutes my labor had become incredibly intense with pain wrapping around my back. I knew then that I did not want to go med-free and in between tears of frustration and pain, I sat and weighed my options with Joe. He went to get my labor and delivery nurse to have her order an epidural. She came back in and told me we just needed to a cervical check before the anesthesiologist was called. At this point it was thirty minutes after my water had been broken...and I had progressed to 9.5 cm and a +1 station. It was at this point that I found out that I was about to have a baby and that there was no time left for an epidural. And I freaked the freak out.



The pain was intense and my contractions were coming on fast and I did not want to do it without drugs. I begged them to call anethesia anyway, I told them a hundred times that I did not want to feel the pain that I was feeling and when all else failed, I cried. And they let me carry on like this for roughly 5 minutes. I never really experienced that "urge to push" but my nurse convinced me that the only way to manage my pain was to push through it and make the baby go away. And so when the contractions came, as much as I didn't want to feel them and I didn't want to hurt, I brought my legs back and I pushed as hard as I could. And it hurt like hell. And I was scared to death.




I kept asking them to tell me how much longer I would need to feel this for, to put a time stamp or a number of contractions on it. I kept hearing "you're so close" and after the fourth time someone said that I told them to "stop bullshitting me and tell me the truth". And that's about the point in my labor where I transitioned from fear to determination. I wanted her out. NOW.



I snipped at the nursing student holding my foot for me, telling her she needed to actually be useful and push my foot back hard. I was pushing for so long that they had to check the baby's fetal heart rate with those annoying hockey puck things in between each contraction. So during my breaks from the pain, they were pushing down on my belly making me hurt and I got so mad. I distinctly remember telling my nurse to stop putting the hockey puck on me. And when she did it for what felt like the seven hundreth time, I said "what is with you and the fucking hockey puck, Fran?" I yelled at my OB for pushing down on the lip of my cervix that hadn't fully opened and then I yelled at him for not pushing on it. I begged him to make it end, to reach in and pull her out. And when all else failed I screamed on the top of my lungs, wild sounds that I didn't even know my body could make.



I'm pretty sure everyone else in labor and delivery called for the anesthesiologist after hearing my birth through the walls. It's too bad I can't make a commission on the increase in epidural sales I helped to affect that night.



After roughly 40 minutes of pushing and what felt like twice as many contractions, I could feel an intense pressure and the unmistakable feel of a body pass through me. But labor had lasted so long that I was sure I had pooped instead and she was still firmly inside me. They kept telling me to open my eyes and look at her, and I didn't believe that it was really over and she was really out and I had really given birth to my baby girl.















I never felt the ring of fire that others talk about, but the pain of her labor was unreal. I didn't think I could do it and I wanted to quit so many times. I would have quit if, at any point in time, I had the choice to do so. As it turns out, Miss Lola was "sunny side up" (head down, face up) which is why I was overdue and my labor kept stalling. I was told afterward that 90% of babies who are sunny side up will turn during labor. I was just in the lucky 10% of deliveries where this did not happen. Had she been head down, face down her head would have created pressure in my cervix as she dropped forcing me into labor. Instead her head acted like a cork that kept me from progressing altogether.















They told me had she presented face down, I would have gone into labor at least a week earlier and I would have only pushed for 10-15 minutes. Face up took me roughly 4 times as long. I broke several hundred blood vessels in my face and neck from bearing down. My lady bits are swollen and angry, but thankfully I didn't tear at all. I did, however, create the world's largest hemorrhoid in the process. A fact that I am deeply disturbed by each time I use the facilities.



I feel like I was hit by a Mac truck, but I think it's just a combination of drained adrenaline, lack of sleep and standard delivery aches and pains. If given the power of hindsight I would have asked for the epidural before I let them break my water. And if I ever deliver another child, which I sincerely doubt will happen, I would personally not elect to go without meds again. I realize every delivery is different and that my experience may have been much more pleasant had she been face down. But that pain and fear is still very palpable for me. Ask me again in a few weeks, and maybe I'll feel more empowered by the experience.











Reese and Ryan came down to meet their baby sister today. And it was everything I thought it would be. Ryan kept pointing to Lola and saying "ba-by" in his silly, grunting voice. He stroked her feet and wrapped his tiny hand, that suddenly looked huge by comparison, around her legs. He patted her head and touched her fingers. And then, like any nearly two year old boy would, he lost interest and began touching every button on every electronic device in my room.











Reese, on the other hand, was completely smitten with this tiny creature that immediately became "my baby". She sat on the bed and happily held her sister. Smiling and laughing and kissing her the whole time. At one point I took Lola out of Reese's arms to sit with both girls on my lap for a picture when I felt the baby being ripped out of my arms. Reese tugged her into her own lap and proceeded to hug her a dozen times, planting kisses all over Lola's little face. She melted my heart today. That little human is amazing.








My tiny peanut and I are discharging in the morning. I thought this stay in the hospital would be a vacation from my normal life. But instead I've found that I'm really tired and I miss my family and the chaos they provide so very much. I'm ready to go home and for us to start our new lives together. We are beyond blessed and I'm so very thankful to have these three beauties in my life.

40 Weeks 2 Days




{ 40 week, 2 day belly monster }



After a pretty painful evening, I called my OB and they had me come in again today (instead of Thursday) for another check. I'm now 4 cm and 100% effaced. My OB looked at me and said "what the hell I going on up there? This should have happened by now". They stripped my membranes again.



Should Miss Lola decide to stay put for good, my induction is scheduled for Friday morning. They don't think I'll make it to Friday. But given my progress last week no one thought I'd make it this far either. I love it when my vagina astounds doctors. Makes me feel...special.



In other who-ha related news, I mailed my stock of OPK's and pee sticks to a friend this week. But before I could send off the package, I peed on one last stick. Clearly I'm pregnant. Very, very pregnant. But I knew it would likely be the last time I saw two pink lines. Call it closure. Or mental illness. It's probably some combination of both. I can't believe my journey on this roller coaster (that I never asked to be on in the first place) is coming to a close. I don't think the full impact of that has hit me yet. I'm so very thankful -- for the blessings we have and for the ride to be over.





Running Through the Tape

I must credit my friend Amy, who went 8 days overdue, with that blog title as it was how she much more delicately phrased the fact that her child was stubbornly staying put long past her 40 week welcome. So this is me running through the tape. And I'm not happy about it either.



The worst part is, I'm not even uncomfortable (38 weeks pregnant with twins is uncomfortable, 40 weeks with a singleton is laughable in comparison). I feel eerily normal. I'm just not in labor. And my excitement and anticipation is giving way to frustration. Thankfully my mother-in-law has come to stay with us to help me take care of my rugrats and to be here in case we need to make a mad middle of the night dash to the hospital. This has taken a HUGE chunk of stress and worry off my shoulders. People who have family available to them on the regular are so very lucky. And I'm thanking my lucky stars that Joe's Momma is able to take time out of her own life to be here right now.



My next appointment is Thursday (40w4d), at which point they will discuss induction. I hope they check Lola's fluid (and maybe even her size) then too, but I doubt I'll sneak in for a last second ultrasound. I'm anxious. I'd like to avoid another induction, for selfish reasons about my preference for delivery and non-selfish reasons regarding fears of it turning into a c-section. But, as Joe so tactfully says, my cervix is a bear trap -- "nothing gets in, nothing gets out".



And now we wait.



Darling girl, if you can read my thoughts (and I think you can, because we're literally connected right now) I love you, I'm ready to meet you, I can't wait to see your little angel face. Now please, move toward the exit.

Lola's Maternity and Family Pictures


Our photographer, whom I love dearly, sent me the DVD of images twice in the last month and both times the DVD was blank. I was dying from anticipation, seriously dying. The third disc finally got here yesterday. She outdid herself. Again. Five more days (or less)!


















































































18 Days!

Where is Friday? Ever have one of those weeks? Both kids are sicky sick again. Husband is sick. I'm getting sick. Our builder didn't order our kitchen sink (what the what?!) and I ended up calling thirteen stores in a 150 mile radius to find one in stock and then driving to Massachusetts to purchase it so we wouldn't be delayed in closing. Did I mention that the sink weighs like 300 pounds? Then I got stuck at the house at a vendor meeting, making me cut picking up the kids from preschool very close. And I got into my car and my KEYS WERE NOT THERE. So I ran back into the house, except that I can't see my feet and I tripped over the stairs in our garage and landed hands first, belly second on our stone mudroom floor. So...I picked up the kids, got them home, fed them lunch, put them down for naps and then called my OB in hysterics. One NST and three hours later, Miss Lola is fine.







And then there was today. Which was calm in comparison to Monday and Tuesday. I had my weight and fluid scan for LB and she is measuring right on track. My not-so-little peanut weighed in at about 7 pounds. I am a little intimidated by that number since she's clearly not done growing. But since they were pretty off with the twins' final scan (helloooo, induction for no reason) I'm holding onto hope that she is smaller than predicted. The thought of delivering a very large infant without meds scares the bejeezus out of me. The one upside is that I've gained 28 pounds so far, so delivering a 7+ pound baby will guarantee I walk out of the hospital at least 10 pounds lighter. This is the best optimism I can procure to keep myself from rocking in a closet in fear of the ring of fire.






{ those cheeks look an awful lot like Reese's at 33 weeks }



My darling husband joined me for my appointment since we were going to get to see the bean and he stuck around for the OB portion as well. He got one laugh out of my doctor and my appointment turned into the Joe show, wherein he and my OB discussed birthday beers and pub crawls. To say I have several unanswered questions would be an understatement. I warned him that he is not allowed to be charming or story-telling on the day that I deliver or he will be exiled to the waiting room. The focus will be on my uterus and my uterus alone. Ha!






{ I think she kind of looks like Biggie Smalls here }




Just for fun I had Joe help me take some belly comparison pics. When I was 37 weeks pregnant with the twins we made a cast of my belly, it was fun to fit myself back inside the cast at the same stage of pregnancy and see the difference. No wonder I still feel great. I'm half the size I was with the kiddos.






{ twin belly in the back, singleton in the front }






{ The space between my current belly and my twin belly at 37 weeks. Amazing. }




So here we are at 37 +3 weeks. And now we wait. Approximately 18 days, to be exact. Perhaps longer, since my cervix seems to be a steel trap. Joe and I discussed membrane sweeps and other such natural labor progressors, and he thinks I should just let Lola decide when she's ready to come out. I'm starting to agree with him.

Birth Plan, Hospital Bag and a 20/20 Registry

Little Lola is 23 days from her scheduled arrival. I am not at all ready. By this time last pregnancy my bags had been packed for weeks, lists were everywhere and I was "completely in control" (ha!). Tuesday night I lost part of my mucous plug (you're welcome for that visual), my contractions got as close as 12 minutes apart and I thought, "holy shit, I'm going to have a kid today". And then the little bugger went to sleep and that was that.



At my 36 +4 week appointment yesterday I found out I am 100% effaced and 2 cm dilated. And Lola is very, very low (uh, I didn't need an internal to tell me that...). Hopefully this all means this little peanut is working on her exit strategy. They think I won't make it to October 14th and frankly I hope they are right. I am exhausted and ready to bring her home...so I can be even more exhausted.



We have a wedding that is encompassing our whole universe this weekend and then the focus is on packing for the hospital and tying up as many loose ends at both houses as possible. I looked back on my previous birth plan and hospital bag pack list and the hospital bag list is spot on for this trip to L&D also. Now I just need to actually use it to pack. I'm not sure if I'll waste time rewriting another birth plan since I am 99.4% sure that no one actually read it last time. Or if they did it was over donuts and coffee at the nurses station whilst making fun of me...



As for my registry, obviously I didn't have/need one this time around. But my sister asked me for my registry list and I went back through and edited my original for her with my now 20/20 parenting genius (also known as hindsight). Here it is for anyone that is a soon-to-be first time mom. Take it with a grain of salt as different things work for different people.



Updated Registry



In other pregnancy land updates, the proofs from my maternity pictures came in this week. Our photographer did an amazing job capturing our lives -- the real moments, not just the pretty posed pictures (again). I am so thankful to have her as a photographer and friend. I should have the DVD of the images in hand soon. This one in particular killed me, as it is my daily life in a nutshell. Kisses from one kid; death grip on another. Life is beautiful.





All Natural

So maybe it's this whole 9 months in thing. Or the fact that I'm having to plan logistics for the twins if/when I should go into labor. Or that my in-laws keep asking me what my plans are (so they can get here from six hours away to help us). But I'm pretty much thinking about labor nonstop these days.



My labor with the twins was a beautiful experience. Even with all of the challenges that occurred -- the twins were labelled as IUGR at my 38 week ultrasound and faced possible NICU time, both were low on fluid. I was induced at 38 weeks, 2 days and I delivered them 22 hours later.






{ 38 weeks with the R's, on my way to my last OB appointment }



One of the things that I'm struggling with right now is how dictated my labor plan was for their birth. Having twins really limits your options (and I am one of the fortunate ones that had both kids presenting vertex and a practice that was supportive of a vaginal delivery and breech extractions, if necessary). Here was my "have to" list:


  • I had to labor at the hospital from the beginning,

  • I had to have an IV (I tested positive for Group B Strep, so it was necessary for my antibiotics and for the epidural),

  • I had to wear three monitors (and they put a spring monitor into Ryan's little head :)),

  • I had to have an epidural placed at 4-6 cm, and

  • I had to deliver in an operating room.


Lots and lots of had-to's. I came with a birth plan in hand, and whether it was a result of being in labor with twins or the fact that no one really pays attention to those things anyway, most of the stuff on the list was ignored. I found out SUNDAY NIGHT (i.e. 20 months later) from my husband that my OB cut me while Ryan's head was crowning. Just a little snip. And here I thought my request that no episiotomy take place was honored. I guess that's what happens when you can't see your crotch to know what's going on.



I was on pitocin for 14 hours before my labor started. They broke both of my waters too. Two hours later I was in incredible pain, having contractions that were 3 minutes apart and lasting 2.5-3 minutes each. No break. They came in to check me and I remember thinking, this is it I'm going to push now. When I heard I was only 4cm a wave of panic hit me. I asked the nurse how much longer it would be and when she told me that the average dilation is 1cm per hour (so I had roughly another six hours to go), I begged her to page the anesthesiologist.



Within an hour my epidural was placed and shortly thereafter I fell asleep. It was glorious, especially since I hardly slept the night before between my anxiety, fears over the twins, the fact that my mother insisted on sleeping in my hospital room and snored the whole night. Honestly I was so exhausted that I needed that break. When I woke up THREE HOURS LATER I was fully dilated and ready to go. I didn't feel a thing. They turned off my line and brought me down to the operating room where they set up for delivery. It was roughly an hour to 90 minutes later when I finally started to push.



It took 56 minutes to deliver Ryan. The beginning was confusing -- I couldn't feel the contractions so I had people pushing my legs up to my chest (holding Reese in place so I could push over her), they told me when to push and when to stop. I couldn't feel anything and I was frustrated. By the end of Ry's delivery I had started to feel the contractions more and was able to work with them. Once he was delivered they checked me and Reese was already in the birth canal. I could feel so much more by then. She was out in 2 contractions (13 minutes).



After delivering the twins I delivered both placentas at the same time, which hurt like a mofo. Whether that was because my epi was gone or because I had just delivered two humans and my vag was really tired, I have no idea. Maybe both.



While my recovery was pretty good, the first few days I struggled to walk across a room. I hated that I didn't have bladder control (from the foley) and that I didn't know when I needed to go to the bathroom. I remember standing in the shower roughly 48 hours after delivery and cleaning myself for the first time. I almost passed out and I was all alone in the bathroom and I was terrified. Why didn't I bring someone in with me? I hate the memory of feeling that out of control.



Now that I am facing delivery again I keep reflecting on how much easier it was to labor when I could actually feel what was happening. And I am strongly considering the idea of going natural. But I'm terrified. Between the memory of those pit contractions and stories of the ring of fire, I don't think I have it in me. My mind is racing these days -- "could I really feel EVERYthing or was it just a slightly less painful version of everything?" "how much of my epidural was gone?" "what if I get to the end and I change my mind and want meds and it's too late?".



So ladies, share with me your stories. If you delivered without induction, what was the experience like? Did you get an epidural? Would you get one again? Did you deliver naturally? Would you do it again?



Thanks in advance for any insight or advice.

35/35


Before I say another word, I just want to say THANK YOU to all of the mommas out there who commented, emailed, texted or messaged me with advice, pearls of wisdom, anecdotes of camaraderie and general hugs. I appreciate it more than you will ever know. Sometimes in motherhood it is easy to feel like a giant clusterf*ck failure who's surely the only one getting it wrong. It's good to know that my kids are (somewhat) normal and I'm not (entirely) a hot mess. It's also nice to not feel so freaking alone. So THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart. 





And now onto my buddah belly. As of today I am 35/35. Hellooooo final stretch (and ninth month)! 







{ at 34 weeks my ass decided it too was pregnant }



Crazy to think I'm thisclose to meeting LB. I feel like I've been pregnant forever, she's seriously going to come out and be a sixth grader. Singleton pregnancies are about 9 years longer than a multiples pregnancy. And I'm now convinced that an IVF pregnancy adds another two years. Seriously. Because no one is ever supposed to know that they are 3 weeks and 4 days pregnant. Most people find out when they are almost done with the hellish first trimester. Or at least at a respectable week, like 6 or 8. Only crazy people (like me) buy pregnancy sticks in bulk and pee on them 7 times a day until colors change or they are hospitalized for dehydration.



And with multiples (especially high risk ones) you see your OB/MFM/chach doctor with another acronym every 2 weeks. With this kid I went every six, then every four, then every two and I'm almost graduating to weekly appointments. I seriously forget I'm pregnant sometimes. Well...that's a lot harder now (for obvious reasons) but it was easy to forget early on.



So here I am, running the final .2 miles of this marathon. I feel pretty great. This is so much easier. I definitely think my perspective on pregnancy has shifted since I carried twins the first time around, and I know that not everyone has an easy singleton pregnancy. But by 35 weeks with the twins I couldn't walk for more than ten minutes at a time because the weight of my belly was so great. I used the motorized shopping cart at the grocery store (how embarrassing). I had outgrown all of my maternity clothes and most of Joe's regular clothes too and had to buy a few shirts to get me through to the end. I remember thinking I would surely die before I delivered.



With this kid I feel like I could run a 10K as long as I was wearing adult diapers. I'm still spinning twice a week and most days keeping up with the twinados. I've been lucky - no morning sickness, no aversions, no preterm labor scares or SCH's - this time around. My only issue was another unexplained bleed (I seem to like those when pregnant) and thankfully Lola was 100% healthy. And, as an added bonus, I found out that she had a full head of hair during that emergency ultrasound. Joe and I keep joking that she's going to come out looking like Rapunzel if her hair was that obvious so early on.







I took the kids to the beach today. We got there and it was closed for the season. So we walked to another beach about a quarter mile up from the first. When I finally unpacked all of our necessities and undressed the kids and sat down, it started to pour. I was too tired to care, so we played in the rain. Eventually it stopped raining and by then we had the whole beach to ourselves. Just me and the first loves of my life.



They chased ducks and seagulls. Ran from the loud sounds of boats. Cried at the sight of parasails. Pointed to planes in the air. We made sandcastles, they threw sand, we dunked our toes in the water and splashed. There were snacks. They bit my fingers on purpose. I got about two thousand hugs.



We have five more weeks as a family of four and then our lives will change, once again, forever. This weekend was rough, but I'm soaking it all in. Thinking about ways to make room in my heart and my lap for another tiny human. Wondering how our dynamic will change. How everything will change. I'm scared. But even more than that, I'm excited.



See you in thirty five days (or less), peanut. We can't wait to meet you.

Snapshot

We're headed up to the lake this afternoon to take some pictures with the family. I'm anxious and excited. I haven't been in picture with my kids since May -- I really need to teach Joe how to use the DSLR.























Hopefully we get off a few good shots. I haven't had a belly button in three years, so we'll have to get creative with angles. I don't want to be photoshopped into perfection, but sometimes my mommy body gets the better of my emotions. Fingers crossed for cooperative children, soft lighting and a good hair day.



* all images via pinterest
 

Popular Posts

My Ping in TotalPing.com