baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahahaahahahaahahahhahahaha…. yeah. that was a bad joke…
I’m pretty certain most, if not all, of my loyal readers are already aware that Little Man is here! This is the story, a few days late of how shiz went down.
As you already know if you’ve been keeping up with my drivel, I’ve been experiencing “prodromal” labour for a couple of weeks now. Which sucked. The contractions seemed to be increasing in severity, but never getting any regularity whatsoever. I’d contract every 5 or so minutes for an hour, just to have them slow down to about every 20 mins for an hour then pick up again… In any case, I was told by the OB covering for Dr. Awesome that if I started bleeding or leaking fluid to get my ass to the hospital. None of that ever had a chance to happen.
Friday night was pretty miserable, I barely slept, and just felt a general state of total fatigue and crap- contracting constantly, again without any rhyme or reason. I tried taking Ty.lenol to calm things down with minimal success. Saturday was worse…. much much worse. I knew the contractions I was having were labour contractions, but because they never came closer together or had any regularity whatsoever, I was extremely reluctant to go get checked out. (believe me, it’s really NOT fun to drive 1/2 an hour to the hospital to get told to “suck it up princess- it’s just false labour; faking it will not get you any sympathy here” <— yes, I WAS actually told this during my last pregnancy during the five weeks of prodromal hell I experienced- it was one of many many horrible awful very bad no good things spouted to me during that time). So anyway, by 11pm Saturday night, I was in the tub writhing in pain that was enough to bring me to tears, a very epic accomplishment considering I live in constant pain from the fibro, and so have a very very high pain tolerance. My husband, knowing this, became pretty concerned, and called L&D, who, obviously, told him to make me come in… so I argued with him for about half an hour and told him I’d just take more Ty.lenol and try to sleep it off… hahahahaahahaha
Needless to say, my husband won the argument… I went in to L&D to discover their equipment actually works, and although irregular my contractions were most definitely measuring in the level of “painful”. I was checked for dilation and given a very brief external U/S to ensure the stitch had not already ruptured. Lo and behold, my asshole cervix was opening- I was 1-2cm, with a guessed length of about 1/2-1cm only. GO ME!! There was some discussion among the OB on call and perinatologist who I love- she was the perinatologist whom I met with during my previous hospital stay- and myself on the best course of action. I was given two choices; wait it out and hope upon hope that the labour stopped, risking the stitch rupturing, hemorrhage, big mess and possible hysterectomy OR deliver this “term” baby NOW. Given the U/S dating, we all assumed I was closer to 37 weeks than 36, and because I’d been given steroids already to help with lung development, everyone agreed that was our safest course. Hubs left the hospital to take our surprisingly un-exhausted Gremlin home to bed, and I was prepped for surgery; Getting an IV started was a bitch, I got poked about 5 or so times for that, and twice to get bloodwork drawn. Then was taken down to the OR to try and get a spinal started. It actually worked out in my favor that we weren’t able to get it started, because the OB got called away to do a delivery!! By the time he go back, the spinal would have worn off- so right out to sleep I went.
The surgery went well, and at 4:07 am July 29th, 2012 my wee man was born!! A whopping 8lbs 13oz and 20 inches long! (my little short-ass!)
Unfortunately, the tale doesn’t quite end there… I awoke in a room and was asked if I would like to see my boy. It was explained that he was slightly more premature than was suspected- his estimated gestational age only 36 weeks, and that due to that, and the fact that I had GD (which can cause delay in lung development, even when controlled well), he was having a bit of trouble breathing and would need to be in the NICU. They wheeled him in to see me, CPAP mask in place, and removed his little cap to show me his abundance of dark, slightly wavy hair- he looks just like his daddy!!! I quickly dozed back off, I’d been given a goodly dose of morphine after surgery (I also had my tubes tied), but I dreamed of my sweet, dark-haired little love.
It’s now four days later and I’m your typical, exhausted, post-partum mom. Recovery from the surgery has been very hard, and complicated by the high level of activity I’ve had to maintain due to trips to the NICU, both in hospital (long friggin walk from my ward to there), and now being home, with an active toddler making daily trips to the hospital (more long friggin walks from the parkade to the NICU); almost complete lack of ability to have any sort of real “rest” between 2-3 hour wakings to pump so that wee man can get every single drop of breast milk available to him, and the stress of having a babe in NICU. For the most part, I can’t say a single bad thing about the staff at the hospital here- they have done so much and been so kind, and helpful- the complete opposite of the experience I had with Gremlin, but it’s still stressful all the same- and made harder by the fact that I do have my little Gremlin and have to divide my time between a toddler who can’t understand why mama has to be gone so much time, and a little man in the hospital who I want to be with so desperately it’s almost physically painful.
The positive side of it all is this- my sweet boy-child is here, and he is doing very well. He spent a day and a bit on CPAP, moving up to nasal cannula, and has been doing trials on room air since Wednesday. He was able to start taking the breast Wednesday night, and is a voracious little piggy! He’s definitely his father’s boy- apparently hubs’ mom used to cry when she had to feed him because he was such an insatiable little hog!! He’s a lot more alert every day, he wakes when he hears my voice every time I come to visit now and starts wiggling like mad to be picked up. He loves his paci like it’s a part of him, and is the most amazing little snuggler- when doing kangaroo care he literally tries to wrap his wee little arms around you, or grabs your finger like a lifeline- he just never wants to be let go. He is the most amazing little miracle and I love him more than life itself. I can’t wait to bring him home and have our family all together again under the same roof.
Granted, I have PCOS, which responded epically well to meds, so most days I don’t even feel like a real infertile. Most days which have now increased into EVERY single day…
I feel like an imposter.
I also feel like I want to punch the next damn person who tells me any of the following: “see, you just needed to relax is all!!”; “it must be because you lost all that weight!”; “it must be meant to be!!” etc etc etc…
Fuck me sideways I’m bloody pregnant!!!
And despite knowing precisely how this happened, I can’t help but wonder- HOW THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN??? and why now? Don’t get me wrong, I am blissfully ecstatic to be in my *ahem* condition, but truly, it is not the most convenient of times. Our house is under some pretty heavy renovations- our bathroom is more-or-less in a state of complete destruction- we have working (ish) fixtures, but parts of floors and walls are missing!! Our bathtub feels like it may fall through the floor at any minute, and our toilet does not have a lid… just the ring!! The sink leaks like it thinks it’s the almighty and our bathroom the world with Gremlin’s bath toys as the ark and animals! I’ve only just finished my probationary period at my job, which I love and would sincerely die a little inside to lose. I know they can’t terminate me for being pregnant, but with the risk factors involved in carrying to term… at least I work for a doctor right? Best place for a high risk pregnancy to be!! My husband has only finished one term of his two-year education- who knows how his job searching will go when he’s finished, will we even be able to afford a third child!!??
So mostly, I’m shitting myself… except as those of you long-term readers may remember- my body thinks shitting while pregnant is HIGHLY overrated.
And once upon a time I said this WASN’T going to turn into a pregnancy blog… my bad. Have I mentioned I’ve been busy? with work, and demolishing my house???
Look pretty girls!!!
See how I distracted you there??? I’m an evil genius!!
I don’t get embarrassed….
I have no shame- I am not shy (except in front of cameras because I know what beached whale looks like in the form of pictures)… I am pretty comfortable in my own little world of crazy (MOST of the time!!)…
Even today… while in [insert name of HUGE electronics store chain here] looking at birthday video games for PMG and a new shiny router for hubby, a good song came on the radio… a catchy, easy-to-dance to song… so yeah- I totally busted a move… I was groovin my way down the aisles of the store AAAAAAND the clerk one aisle over apparently caught my wicked moves and said “if you keep dancing through the whole song- I will give you 10% off anything you purchase in the store today”… well!!!
It was ON!! because I don’t care if I’m a rolly poly blob of jelly gyrating around! I was having FUN! and if it gets me a discount- well! that just makes it even better! So yeah- the bastard reneged because he didn’t think I’d actually do it- and I did!! 😛
Does anyone else ever get the urge to spontaneously break into dance??? Or is this just me???
Well, it’s been an interesting couple of days, and I have taken far longer than I should have to get this written, however, I have VERY tender ladybits atm and my computer chair, while very very comfortable under normal circumstances is decidedly NOT so comfortable with so many damn stitches in my ass. Which will serve as warning for those of you with weak stomachs or whom have issues with TMI- you might want to skip this post. 😛
I guess I’ll start from the very beginning… Which was at 7:55am Saturday July 17. I FINALLY got the call to come in and get the induction started. Let me tell you, you’ll never see a 9months pregnant woman move faster in your life. I was in such a hurry to get my ass to the hospital (it’s a 25 minute drive) that I didn’t bother to shower or anything. I did NOT want to drive all the way there just to get sent home again. I got to the hospital, was placed in a room on the fetal assessment end of the ward and hooked up to the monitors. Baby was fine, I was fine… and very anxious to get this show on the road. I was given the “low down”… doc would break my waters and they would start me on syntocin (just another synthetic oxytocin). Doc came in, did a quick U/S to check on babe for positioning and fluid levels. Took TWO damn hooks to break my water- apparently this time my amniotic sac was making an attempt at being impregnable! I was monitored for a bit to see if contractions would pick up on their own. Which they did, but did not show up on the monitor- not surprised, I’ve been here before… I contract, the monitor doesn’t register, I get sent home- running theme for the past 5 weeks at this point!
I took a couple runs around the ward while they prepared my actual labour suite and mixed up my hormone cocktail. At this point I’ve had a very special IV put in called a twin cath- holy hell that needle was BIG!! Because of the gestational diabetes though, they wanted to be able to give me insulin through the IV and still be able to keep the syntocin hooked up. I was not allowed to eat or drink anything because the doc was concerned I may still need a C-section… heh heh heh…
I was contracting pretty heavily by the time I got to the room, about every 5-10 minutes, but lo and behold- STILL NOT SHOWING ON THE MONITOR!! So, off we go to the races with the Synto… the hormone juice of the devil. OMFG ow!!!!!! The synto took some time (maybe 1/2 an hour) but when it kicked in, holy hell!! Unreal!! I managed to breath through most of the contractions fairly well, until about the third time of cranking things up a notch. Then it was all I could do to remember to breathe at all. And guess what??? STILL NO F’N CONTRACTIONS SHOWING UP ON THE MONITOR!!!!! Although I was hoping for a completely drug free birth, I DID cave in at this point and request something for the pain. The nurse (who was absolutely WONDERFUL!!) did a cervix check, and because I was still only 4cm dilated opted to give me morphine, as opposed to giving me fentanyl, because she felt I’d still be in labour a while and she wanted to save the “big guns” for later. She was sure that I’d still be awhile. I sent hubby for lunch figuring with the morphine I could rest between contractions, and I wanted him to keep his strength up. I should mention here, that he was WONDERFUL- he rubbed my back with each contraction, sometimes he didn’t even get a chance to sit down in between them because they were coming so fast- He was so supportive, and took to me bossing him around like a champ!! After this experience, if I didn’t already think he was the greatest man ever, I most certainly would now! He got me cool cloths for my face and when I told him to stop touching me because I was hot, he still stayed close and held my hand and talked me through everything. Yep, best. husband. EVER!!
So, I was getting morphine around 1-ish. Hubby’s mom and dad had stopped by with my girl around this time too. Mom was willing to stay while hubby went to grab some grub, but I told everyone I preferred to be alone and try to rest with my drugs! lol Which I did. Hubby came back after his grub, I dozed-ish between contractions. All this time- none are showing up on the monitor. Baby is doing awesome and I can definitely feel things progressing.
Around 4 I got the gas! Nitrous is a beautiful thing… The jokes started coming then. Apparently after my first “hit” of the gas I started smiling, and even laughing a bit. A lot past this point is actually kinda fuzzy. I spent an hour feeling wooo… and then started feeling the urge to push. Which is when they took my lovely gas away and the REAL business started. The urge was strong with this one, and I was pushing quite effectively. Well enough that after only a very short time the nurse declared I was “round the bend” and it was time to call the doctor. Doctor didn’t believe her, it’s a good thing she came running anyway! I was good to go! Unfortunately, I had started to tear pretty badly (my husband will have nightmares for a while about the tearing sound apparently- I’m glad I don’t remember!!) so the doc had me halt the pushing in order to freeze me and perform an episiotomy. The hardest part being the NOT pushing bit!! Once she was done, I was off to the races again, and managed to get my girl MOST of the way out pretty quickly. Being a big girl, her shoulders did not want to come out my pelvis- see, I’m chubby, but actually have quite a small frame (and only 5’2″) so 9+lb baby just don’t fit out that way so well. I had a baby fully crowned, with doc pulling for all she was worth, and a nurse up more or less on top of me trying to push her out from the top of my stomach. I think the poor nurse was more traumatized than I was- I barely remember her saying again and again “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!” They obviously managed to get my girl out, but not without causing some minor damage. My abs felt like hell the next day let me tell you! But worse than that, my baby girl was beat to hell!!
I’m glad at this point that I was pretty much passed out from pain and exhaustion because otherwise I would have been in panic city. Baby girl didn’t cry right away- hubby says she was limp and grey and he wanted to die at that moment. They took her immediately over to the “inspection table” and rubbed her down- the pediatrician on-call was called and came down right away. She was fine- with stimulation she was rosy pink and screaming her head off!! She does have some nerve damage/bruising in her one shoulder, which should clear up by two months old. She’ll be followed up with my oldest daughter’s pediatrician who’ll take care of any concerns.
As of now, we are home, and happy. I could not be any more blissful to have my baby girl- she is definitely spoiled with love, I can barely put her down!! She is sleepy and content most of the time- except when she’s naked- and just perfectly beautiful. I am truly blessed.
And for now, I will leave you with that… there is still a lot more to be said… but it can wait… my looooong chubby-cheeked girl needs to be fed!!