Friday, May 29, 2009
However, I think I missed a new buzzword: epic.
Everywhere I look people are using it like it's oxygen. Blog posts. Facebook picture albums. Myspace profiles. Is this the word of the moment? And most times I see it, it's followed by "fail." Like, as in "epic fail." Can you have an epic somethingofgreatness? IDK. And for fear of not fitting in with the other Somerset MILFs, I must be in the know as to how to properly use this new descriptor!
I'm totally befuddled by this. It's almost as annoying as "I know, right?" Which I am guilty as charged of adopting into my daily lingo. Lock me up and put me in lame jail.
Readers: please help me understand this new "it" phrase so that I'm not an epic failure.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Here's his rap sheet:
Newborn visit - 6 lbs. 15 oz. (25%ile); 19 in. long (25%ile); 27 cm. head (25/50%ile)
One month - 10 lbs. 5 oz. (50-75%ile); 22.5 in. long (25%ile) 35 cm. head (25/50%ile)
Basically, he's awesome. See for yourself here. (Warning to work peeps: FB link. Check it from home.)
His two month well visit is June 17. He gets shots at that one...I'm soooooo not ready for that.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
I've received and openly taken all the advice from women who've lived through this, and it seems that much like labor and delivery, everyone has a different story...but EVERYONE experienced pain on some scale.
And by pain, I mean that you want to saw your boobs off with anything sharper than a rusty spoon while OD-ing on Tylenol 3 washed down with a vat of Pinot Grigio from Costco. Yeah, it's that bad. But, it's better than the alternative, which is evil, evil pumping.
The best advice I got was to wrap yourself up like a present and to not do anything to "stimulate" your boobs, otherwise they will keep making milk. This includes holding Alex close to my chest, because just that little bit of contact triggers my hormones to "let down" milk. (Who invented that phrase, "let down" re: milk? It's gross.) Suffice it to say I'm rockin' 2 sports bras and the boppy has become my "breast" friend (hahaha I kill myself) when it comes to feeding the little man.
The night feedings are SO much better, because instead of changing him, heating the bmilk from the fridge, feeding him, burping him, getting him back to sleep, washing the bottle, washing the pumping equipment, pumping for 15 minutes, slathering lanolin, repadding the bra and getting the bmilk into bottles/fridge, it's just a simple change, feed, burp, sleep. Gloooorious.
I'm unsure as to how long it will take my moo moo juice to dry up. I googled it and for some women it's a few days, others a few months. Let's hope I'm on the days plan.
Also - Obama? It was very uncool to interrupt ellen yesterday for your silly Supreme Court nomination. It wasn't anything I couldn't catch on CNN later today. Sheesh.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
No joke, if I have to put those plastic little death shields up to my nips again, I will off myself. Violently.
Quick update for those not in the know, or are just tuning in: I think breastfeeding is the grossest, most disgusting thing on the earth. As payback for this, God decided to give me the pick of the litter that refuses to latch on. Please note that I DID try...very, very hard and often times to the point of tears. So, in an effort to give Alex "breast is best," I've been pumping out the milky goodness and feeding him via bottle.
The pump 'n feed is ridiculous and takes twice as long and sucks extra hard because after you've spent the time pumping, you STILL have to feed le child and THEN wash everything! Not that I'm complaining that doing this all for Alex was difficult or not worth it; I would cross an ocean with nothing but arm floaties and leaky goggles for him. But add in the sleep deprivation and the pain of the pump and it's a recipe for disaster.
I've done my research and consulted with our pediatrician, who has no qualms about it. Formula is pretty awesome these days...and let's face it, neither Joe nor I were breast fed at all. Like, not even a drop of colostrum. Zip. Zero. Zilcho. And we turned out alright, right?
Monday, May 25, 2009
1. Obvi, the SwaddleMe blanket. Unless you are employed as a nurse and/or learned some secret ninja skill at a secret Mom camp, you will never, ever be able to swaddle your child like they do in the hospital. Never fear, this contraption is foolproof. Jake could probably swaddle Alex in it if push came to shove. Right now they are buy one, get one 1/2 off at BRU...just sayin'.
2. The Happiest Baby On The Block. Specifically, the DVD. There's a book, but why read when you can watch? Joe and I had big plans to watch it over pizza the night my water broke, but we just got around to watching it about a week or so ago. Dr. Harvey Carp is a Baby Whisperer, I swear. I promise you will learn some serious baby soothing skills that will save your sanity on more than one occasion. If you're local, I have a copy you can borrow. Have your people call my people.
3. Travel infant swings. (The link is the one we have.) The 'travel' part is k-e-y. The regular swings are so big and bulky, and unless you have the Jon & Kate + 8 diesel minibus, you can't take it with you anywhere. I've already taken mine on two different trips, and even if I would have paid retail (Yeah, right. Like I would EVER do that!) it would have already paid for itself a billion times over. But since I am awesome and scored it for $15, I would say it's been more than worth it. Score!
4. Skip hop bottle drying rack. So many people told us the typical drying racks you would register for are cheap and crappy, so we actually weren't even going to get one at all. By some freak accident, we found this one on clearance at T.J. Maxx and thought it looked cool. Turns out, it's such a great product! The brush fits right in it, and there's a place for all the different pieces of the bottles to dry. Not to mention it actually looks pretty spectacular on the counter.
5. Soothie pacifier. I'm fully aware that this one might be specific to Alex, but it's the only pacifier he will take. I think it's because that's what they gave him in the hospital and the nipple (it's even a gross word when you're not referring to boobies) is shaped like the ones on his bottles. He just won't take the Nuk-type pacifiers that are wider and flatter...I will have to post a video of me trying to put it in his mouth. The look on his face is like I'm trying to feed him brussel sprouts.
6. Binki Grip. Brills! Keeps the pacifier from falling on the floor, and this particular one will fit ANY brand of pacifier, so you don't need to buy one for every kind. Thanks to Auntie Jen for ours! :)
7. Bibs. Buy 100 of them. You cannot have enough. Personally, I will use a burp cloth as a bib from time to time, but Joe claims he "is not a heathen" and will only use a fresh, clean bib every time. He likens it to eating a delicious steak with dirty silverware...it ruins the meal.
8. White noise machine. I honestly thought these were ridiculous until about a week ago. So many people told me to register for one and that they were worth their weight in gold, but they have always annoyed me. I take it all back. They are awesome. The one we have (in link) also has a cool projection feature that will project lighted fish, stars and animals on the ceiling.
9. Bath Sling. We don't use this when it's both Joe and I giving him a bath, but when it's just me this thing is the BEST. You only have two hands and those little buggers are slippery! This helps to keep him in the warm water, but with his head above the water line. Plus, I can actually have some hands-free moments and just let Alex enjoy the water before he is old enough to sit up on his own!
10. Washcloths. Sometimes, wipes just don't hack it. We keep a stack of about 25 white washcloths next to the changing table for those emergency situations...whether it's a ginormous poo or an impromptu whiz block. The white is necessary so that you can wash them with bleach once they are, um, soiled.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
What was it I was considering, you ask?
Duct taping my son.
Before you go judging me, allow me to set the stage: Joe, Alex and I were alone at my sister's apartment from 6 pm - 2:15 am last night/this morning. The reason for this I will explain in a later post. Anyway, I packed Alex accordingly for the trip: diapers, wipes, Desitin, extra outfits, bottles, formula, pacifier and blankets.
The blankets is where I went horribly wrong. You see, Mister Alex loooooves to be swaddled tighter than Joe's grasp on the remote during playoff hockey. Another post idea: the brilliance of the SwaddleMe blankets. And if he's swaddled appropriately (so his arms can't get loose) he won't wake himself up by batting himself in the eye and can usually sleep for 3-4 hour stretches.
Dreadfully, I only packed blankets and not the SwaddleMe. And the blankets I brought were CRAP for swaddling. I all but tore Kelli's apartment apart for safety pins to hold it together, but no luck. Seriously, Kel, where do you keep those?
Then, in one golden closet I found a roll of Duct tape. It seemed so simple - just swaddle him with the crap blanket and then secure it with a bit of Duct tape. Maybe even wrap it around him a few times to ensure snugness.
It was 1:30 a.m. I had been up for hours. Exhaustion had weakened my sound decision making skills. I grabbed the roll, walked to the couch where the little man was squirming and fighting sleep with all his might and made the better decision: do not Duct tape your child.
He didn't sleep. I didn't sleep. But social services will not be at my door today. :)
Monday, May 18, 2009
I know, they're amazing, right? My friend Jackie Donahue of Bleu Soleil designs created them for us. She's so talented! She's can pretty much do anything, from custom designed notecards to anything and everything wedding related. If you'd like her contact info, leave a comment or shoot me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
I continue to feel better every day, and my body is almost back to normal. The stretch marks will never go away, but I'll take my friend Jen's advice and look at them as battle scars I can show Alex one day. Hopefully, he will think they are cool.
To close out the L&D story, I'll exit David Letterman style: with a Top 10 List.
Top 10 things to remember as you go into/are in labor:
1. Starting at about 38 weeks, carry a ShamWOW with you everywhere you go...you never know when your water might break!
2. EAT before you go to the hospital. Eat like you've never eaten before. And when they ask you if you would like to supa-size your order, your answer should be, "Eff yes!"
3. Nurses are hit or miss, but be nice to them even if they are notsonice to you, because they truly are the keepers of your fate.
4. If you happen to give birth at a hospital that also has a Ben & Jerry's in the cafeteria, remind your husband and father to NOT go get some for themselves and BRING IT UP TO YOUR ROOM AND EAT IT IN FRONT OF YOU WHILE YOU ARE IN LABOR. Rude.
5. Ask for the mobile heartrate/contraction monitors if your hospital has them. Otherwise, they have to unhook you every time you have to get up or pee. Any time you don't/can't hear the heartbeat is unnerving.
6. When you place your orders for breakfast, lunch and dinner, order extra. Hubby is hungry, too...and you're paying for it...well, insurance is, but whatever.
7. ASK. ASK. ASK. Ask about anything and everything you have questions on. We asked about pumping and I scored a free pump kit out of it. (We had the pump machine...thank you Erin!...but not the cords and actual pumping mechanisms and containers.) You can score lots of stuff while you're a patient, but once they discharge you, the gold mine dries up.
8. To that point, ask for extra hospital undies (they are soooo fancy...haha) to take home with you. Your regular undies will not be your friend for the first few weeks, and those giant, mesh atrocities are COMFY!
9. Since I'm eating breakfast, I'll keep this one to the point: the stuff that comes out of you after you birth a child is gross. Sick-uh-ning. It does not go away for awhile. *cue vomit*
10. I think I've done a pretty good job at keeping this whole experience real for you. But I have to also insert the caveat that childbirth is also wonderful, amazing, incredible, life-changing, and all those other cheesy things that Hallmark oozes. You're life will never, ever be the same...and mostly for the better. :)
Friday, May 15, 2009
A friend of mine posts pictures of her daughter on every month's birthday in the same chair with the same teddy bear so everyone can watch her grow. Her album is called "Caroline and the Bear," since her daughter's name is (duh) Caroline and she uses a teddy bear.
Well, I've decided it's the greatest idea, ever, and am going to copy her. Only my album will be called "Alex and the WIPpo," because my son's name is (duh) Alex and I will use WIPpo.
Remember him? He is the very first thing I bought when I found out I was pregnant. He's a stuffed hippo, but we named him WIPpo after our precious little WIP. Maybe someday Alex will name him something else, but for now he's dubbed WIPpo.
So, without further adieu, I give you Alex and the WIPpo at 1 Month! Happy Birthday, little man. Thanks for sleeping for 5 consecutive hours this afternoon, it was the best present you could ever give Mommy.
First, let's wish Mr. Alex a HAPPY ONE MONTH BIRTHDAY! A special post to come later today about that.
Back to hell...
As I was being wheeled off to the OR, I couldn't help but giggle. You only ever see those moments from a birds-eye view on television: the husband tenderly kissing his wife as they glide through double swinging doors, as if it might be the last time they see each other. To experience it firsthand was VERY weird, to say the least.
Joe was not allowed in the OR for the "prep;" he had to sit in the hallway...maybe he will guest post about what it was like to wait out there. Anyway, they wheeled me into the white, sterile room and asked me to get on the operating table.
Girl say WHAT?
I couldn't even feel my legs - how did they expect me to use them to hoist myself onto the adjacent table? Needless to say, I pretty much told them they were reebazons and that they were going to have to use their magical medical skillz to get me to table #2, cause I sure as hell wasn't about to do it on my own.
I was notsogracefully hoisted onto the table and the next few moments flew by. The anesthesiologist started pumping me with more deliciousness, drapes were going up all around me, my arms were tied down like Jesus on the Cross, and I could hear Dr. Long asking the intern if she wanted to perform the surgery. Ahhhh! I understand the need for teaching hospitals, I really do. Everyone has to learn on someone, otherwise we wouldn't have doctors. It's just a little unnerving when they're learning on you.
I started to shiver and shake from all the drugs and kept asking and asking where Joe was. He wasn't allowed to come in until they cut me, so I asked the nurse to hold my hand until he was allowed in. After what seemed like ages, I could hear Joe. He came and sat beside me and the real party began.
Dr. Long coached Miss Intern through the surgery, and warned me right before they were going to take Alex out. I was totally numb at that point, but I could definitely feel the sensation of pressure. It was SO cool. They whizzed him off to the baby station and about 20 seconds later we heard his little cry. Best. Sound. Ever.
At this point I started to feel some SERIOUS pain. Imagine the worst period cramps you've ever had and multiply them times a billion and also set your pubic area on fire; that is about the level of pain I was feeling. I screamed to the anesthesiologist (really sick of typing that word) and she started pumping me with more juice. She said all she had left to give me would give me amnesia, and since I wanted to remember everything, I opted to not get it.
As they were stitching me up, I heard Dr. Long asking Miss Intern why she did this and why she did that. She said she was, "not comfortable" doing whatever kind of stitch he wanted her to do, and he told her she "better get comfortable with it, because next time she might not have the room." Lovely. Just what you want to hear when you're strapped to the table, shaking and shivering in intense pain. Give Dr. Long the scalpel, already!
I was having severe shoulder pain, which is known as referred pain. WOWZA. I was in so, so, so, so, so much pain it was unreal. I begged Joe to stand over me and apply pressure to my shoulders, and it made it a little more bearable. However, this is when they brought Alex over to see us...but since I was once again preferring death, and Joe was so freaked out about me, neither of us actually held him or paid too much attention to his general existence. Sorry, kiddo. We really do love you more than anything. It was just very important at that point that Mommy lived to actually hold you.
They whisked him off to the nursery because his temp was 1 degree off what it should have been. Nothing a little McDonald's-style heat lamp couldn't fix.
Since my innards were so swollen, they had a hard time "putting Humpty back together again" (as Joe so lovingly puts it). But once I was all stapled up, they whisked me off to recovery, where I stayed for about 45 minutes.
Then they wheeled me BACKWARDS up to the postpartum floor. Dear nurses of the world: do not wheel people with a predisposition to motion sickness BACKWARDS. Also, do not forget a barf bucket, because your janitorial staff will not appreciate the mess said patient makes all over your carpeted hallway.
I managed to hurl again after I was hoisted into the postpartum bed. Why can't they just have 1 bed for everything?
After I was in the room about 5 minutes, they brought Alex in. I lovingly cooed to him in my best Momma voice, "Hi, bubba!"
The obviously insane nurse says to me, "Oooh, you named him 'Bubba?'"
Who names their kid 'Bubba'? I just laughed and said, "No. That's my Alex."
Thursday, May 14, 2009
I'm shocked and impressed that you all keep coming back to read my horror story, but thank you for doing so. I swear that I have the will and desire to blog every day, but Alex usually has other plans for me.
I think I described new mommyhood best to my bf, Cait, the other day: It's like being foolishly drunk 24/7, but without the alcohol. You just try to keep your eyes open and survive. It is getting better, though. Me 'n the little man are starting to get a schedule, which is nice.
Ok, enough of that. Back to hell. Where was I? Oh, yes...9:00 am and Joe had just gotten in the shower. Lucky prick.
9:46 a.m. - Kelly B. stopped by and decided to wait on more pain meds. Made me love her a little less. Contractions every four to four and a half minutes. Joy. Rapture.
9:47 a.m. - Checking the who-ha (so funny that he called it that, right? I'll even forgive him on the spelling) to see cervix progress. This again? One cm and much shorter than last time. Progress!!
9:53 a.m. - Calling the doctor to see about starting an epidural. Ohmigod is he on friggin' speed dial? Can we Skype him in to lean out the process?
10:35 a.m. - Epidural in. Thank GOD! And truly, it didn't hurt. The hardest part was staying VERY still while he was inserting the needle...WHILE I was having contractions. Damn near impossible, but we made it. Kristi's sharp pain is almost unnoticeable. She feels VERY itchy though. It was so weird - I could feel the cold rush of fluid going in my body and then I got all tingly. Going to try and get some sleep. The Dr. who gave the epidural was awesome. True story. And, he makes like a trillion dollars a year to stab people. Note to Alex: become an anesthesiologist when you grow up so Mommy and Daddy can retire to Boca Raton.
10:38 a.m. - Kristi puked up some nice green bile. Very smelly. Thanks, honey. I held her hair back for her. Good man. Note to preggos: EAT BEFORE YOU GO TO THE HOSPITAL! It will likely be your last meal for what seems like a lifetime. Better to puke up food than bile. Trust me.
10:43 a.m. - Have had a couple contractions so far and have not felt them. So happy. You're happy, Joe? How do you think I feel? Had it not been for the epidural, I would have danced a dance that would have made Ellen Degeneres herself proud.
11:50 a.m. - Just talked to Dr Long. Kristi gets to eat a bagel. YAY! Foooooooooood! We're hoping to stop the bus at Rochester instead of Clarkston. This was a very weird birth analogy the doc used. It made perfect sense at the time, possibly because I was under the influence. We are basically in labor induction mode.
12:00 p.m. - This is the most delicious bagel in the entire world. True story. I believe I was proclaiming rather loudly that Jesus himself baked it for me. And we found out how catheters work. Best. Invention. Ever. All the fun of peeing with none of the work!
12:15 p.m. - Chucked up the most delicious bagel in the entire world. Oh, it was awful. It tasted like bagel, crap, and grape Jolly Ranchers. Kristi told Kelli to NEVER have sex. I think I actually told her max out the intimacy at high fiving the opposite sex. Maybe some occasional hugging or dry humping, if necessary. Sex = babies = THIS. DON'T DO IT! I remember everyone was laughing at me...quite hysterically...yet I was not kidding.
1:05 p.m. - 2.5 cm dilated. WOOT! We like when nurse Kelly does it instead of the Doctors because she has small hands. Another reason to love her!
1:12 p.m. - Got a bolster to the epidural to help ease the pain. *sings* Hit me with your best shot, fire awaaaaaaaaaay!
2:45 p.m. - Ok, we are kick-starting this party. Starting the pitocin. Hip, hip, horray. If I've learned anything from my hours and hours of TLC, it's that pitocin brings on the baby!!
3:20 p.m. - Four cms, people! YES! YES! YES! Cervix is forward so checking doesn't hurt as much. Um, and that whole epidural thing REALLY helps. Brushed her teeth, washed up (whore's bath) and put in her contacts. Semi-human feeling, not gonna lie.
3:25 p.m. - Contraction pain is in the pubic area. Hoping one more dose of epidural will help ease the pain these next few hours. Give me just enough to take away the pain, stopping just short of killing me. That would be fine, thankyouverymuch.
3:26 p.m. - Doctor Long is on his way to the hospital. All good signs!
This is where Joey's fab Excel spreadsheet ends...and most likely because this is where it all went downhill. Dr. Long arrived to my room about 4:30 p.m. and we filled him in on the last 20 or so hours. He noticed that the external monitors weren't picking up my contractions, so he wanted to put an internal monitor in me. Great, another hand up there.
So, up he goes into my netherregions and it was at that moment I KNEW something was wrong. His eyes got all big and demanded to see the Dr. who examined me at 4 cms. Kelly spoke up and said it was she (her?) who had done the exam, so Dr. Long asked her to exam me again and to tell him if it felt the same as it did when she last checked me. Really? Again?
Her eyes did what his did when she finally got her hand up there, and that was that. Apparently, Alex had been bumping his little noggin on my cervix in a woeful attempt to get the eff out of me. However, his melon was larger than my girlie parts would allow through, so a sort of "trauma" happened to my innards and everything was swollen. Only way to get him out was to do it himself with a scalpel and a surgical mask. And an intern, but we'll get to that later...
Dr. Long gave us the nicest, longest little speech about what was happening with my body and how disappointing it was to have it end this way. No shit, Sherlock. Joe asked when the surgery would be and he said, "Within the half hour."
The twenty minutes of surgery prep that followed are mostly a blur. I remember the anesthesiologist coming in and juicing me up, the buzz of the razor (so much for that bikini wax...), and Joe putting on his funny little surgery outfit. Heelarious.
And with that, I was wheeled off to the OR. Stay tuned for the best of the worst!
Monday, May 11, 2009
Happy Belated Mother's Day to all the mommies that are reading!! My day was superstellar. When I got up for Alex's 3am-ish feeding, there were cards hidden all around the house from Joe and Alex. He's seriously so advanced - such nice handwriting for a 3 1/2 week old!
In related news, Alex was baptized yesterday! It was a really cool thing to be able to do it on Mother's Day. We were surrounded by friends and family...and surprisingly, he TOTALLY loved it! He was sleeping right up until Pastor Tim splish-splashed him with the water, but he didn't cry...simply opened those big eyes and looked at me as if to say, "Seriously, Mom...I'm trying to sleep here!" He's just like his Momma - interruption of sleep = death.
He wore the gown that my sister, brother and I were all baptized in...with the Onesie tux underneath. It's seriously the funniest thing, ever.
Back to the ridiculously drawn-out birth story next time, promise.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
I was having moderate contractions at this point, and still drug-free. I got my IV inserted (surprisingly, horrifically painful) and got hooked up to the monitors. Note to pregnant ladies: ask for the mobile monitors if your hospital has them. That way, you can still get up and walk around without being attached to those stoopid cords. Even if your room doesn't have them, they can get them for you. Do it!
My peeps came to visit me (Mom, Dad, Kyle, Jill, Susan, John) and left with Kelli around midnight...that's when the fun began.
GOOD LORD, CONTRACTIONS ARE INSANE. You can actually feel them before they happen. Mine started as a wave in my heels and crawled all the way up the back of my legs, through my bunghole and into my ute. Ow, ow, ow. The pain lasted anywhere from 5-20 seconds and I hummed my way through them. Yeah...sorry Madelyn. I didn't use any of your breathing techniques. My instinct kicked in and I just did whatever made me feel better. Humming worked.
Joe managed to fall asleep a little after 1 a.m., and I popped in my iPod to try to get some relaxation/sleep. I know it was all in my head, but the contractions seemed to hurt a little less when he was by my side, so whenever I would start to feel the pain in my heels I would wake him up. And like the great hubby he is, he would hop out of his little rent-a-cot and hold my hand and hum with me through the pain.
Our sing-a-long lasted until about 4 a.m., when my angel (read: nurse) from above, Kelly B., came back in to check on me. I cannot stress enough how incredibly amazing she was. Maybe I even have a little bit of a girl crush on her now. I actually wrote a letter to the administrator of the hospital to tell him how awesome she was. I hope she wins nurse of the month. :)
This is the point where Joe started taking notes. I'll refer to his Excel spreadsheet from here on out, because my memories will involve far too many curse words to keep this blog PG-13. My commentary, per usual, in italics.
4:30 a.m. - Checked cervix. OMG again with the cervix checking. Sunnafuhbitch. Only dilated 1 cm. Eff. Eff. Eff. All this work for 1 friggin' cm?
4:42 a.m. - Started newbane drip. Narcotic. Should last 2 hours and let Kristi sleep. Thank God! Oooohhh druggys make me feely so weirdy. Going sleepy now...
4:48 a.m. - Narcotics seem to be working. Kristi is drifting off to sleep, hopefully for a good 2 hours. Best part of the day.
4:50 a.m. - Kristi is sleeping through her contractions. This is a good thing. WIP is doing well. Sleep. So. Delicious.
6:30 a.m. - Newbane starting to wear off. Contractions every 8 minutes. Next cervix check at 7:30. More drugs, please. Less cervix checking, please.
7:30 a.m. - Cervix not dilated. I hate my life. Thinking about pitocin/more pain management. Stop thinking, start DOING!
8:13 a.m. -Got morphine drip in IV and Kristi is sleeping. Hoping to relax her little body and let the cervix start to relax, too. Oh, Joey...if I wasn't on a billion drugs and wanting to die, I would kiss you for calling my body little.
8:18 a.m. - Dr. Long is a BIG believer in vaginal births and letting the body labor. We're going to be here awhile. His face is now on a dartboard in my basement...I keed, I keed.
8:23 a.m. - REALLY bad contraction. I don't remember this particular one over any other, but I'm sure I hated it.
8:35 a.m. - Morphine drip not working. Kristi's pain getting worse. Got a shot of morphine in the thigh - thinking the IV will work slow and the shot will work fast and they will meet in the middle to manage pain. Yeah...that didn't work.
8:54 a.m. -Doing an ultrasound just to be safe. Actually, it was a stoopid intern that just needed to get his ultrasound hours in. Whatever. Kelly B. almost kicked him out. Love her. In the meantime, Kelli is trying to hook intern's wife up with a teaching job in Troy. You can always count on Kelli to make friends...even while I'm in excruciating pain, preferring death.
8:55 a.m. - Kristi declares her hatred of morphine. I think they really just gave me a shot of sugar water.
8:56 a.m. - Another BIG contraction. Poor baby. Poor me, indeed.
8:57 a.m. - Grandma Joette arrives. Greetings, mom. Tell me again why you opted to do this THREE times!?!
9:00 a.m. - I (Joe) am going to take a shower. My jealousy exists on many levels.
We'll take it from the shower next time. I've got a sleeping baby and a 15 minute window to take MY shower and prepare myself for the day.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
So they put me in triage room 3, which is funny because 3 and 7 were recurring numbers throughout my pregnancy. And, we recently got his SS card in the mail and the last 6 numbers are all 3s and 7s. So. So. Weird.
Anyway, it took what seemed like an eternity for a nurse to come put me on the monitors and begin to ask me the same billion majillion questions they ask every time. Apparently, April 14 was a very popular day for water breakage in Metro Detroit. An old wives' tale says that water is more prone to break during a rainstorm because of the change in barometric pressure, and it was raining that night...believe what you will.
A nurse finally came, put me on the monitors and interrogated me like I was an ex-con. I even got to put on the fancy hospital gown, which freaked me out slightly because it once again affirmed that I would not be sent home without a child.
Kelli arrived about 20 minutes later in a state of hilarious/frantic excitement. When she pulled the curtain into my little 5x5 space I couldn't tell if she was going to explode from happiness or totally freak out. Turns out, it was all happiness.
An attending stopped by to perform an ultrasound, which we passed with flying colors, and then the nurse came back in to check me.
I know I blogged about the cervix checkage awhile back, but there is seriously nothing like it. Why on all the baby shows on TLC/Discovery Health does it look totally painless? Seriously! I've never, ever, ever seen a mom even bat an eye when the doc stuck his ENTIRE ARM up there. They make it look like, "Ooohh, I'm just fishing around in here...you can't feel anything...tra la la la la la." Not. True.
Well, I apparently have a "posterior" cervix, which based on how much the exam freaking hurt must mean that it is located about 900 miles West of Shanghai. WOW. I kid you not when I tell you that the cervical check hurt more than any contraction I had in the 23 hours I was in labor.
She stuck her
Due to the "posterior" placement of my cervix, she had to pull her arm out and try again. AGAIN! This time, she had me put my fists under my butt to raise my pelvis and make it easier for her to find my cervix. Because apparently it was playing hide and seek?
Whatever. Pregnant moms, heed this advice: just put your fists under your arse the first time they check you. It will save you so much agony.
She finally found the missing cervix, pulled her hand out and proudly proclaimed, "1 fingertip!"
I wanted to cry again. Seriously? Only 1 fingertip? That's not even a centimeter! It was so, so, so discouraging. But, if Madelyn taught my anything it was to just press on and focus on the baby, not the slow progress. Slow progress is normal...normal...normal...
But what wasn't normal was when I reminded the nurse I was GBS positive and allergic to penicillin (YAY for remembering!). They wanted to call the pharmacy to place the order for the medicine so they could start me on the IV drip as soon as I got up to my room, so she placed a call to Dr. Seltzer to see what the alternative medicine was.
I heard her on the phone with the doc on a few different calls over the course of the next 20 or so minutes. She was being SUPER rude to her from what I could tell, which was rather unsettling. She came in to tell me they were still doing some research on which med would be the best replacement to the penicillin, and it would just be a few more minutes until they could send me to my Labor & Delivery Room.
20 minutes pass...more phone calls to the doc. More rudeness.
Finally, she pulled the curtain on my room and this is honest-to-goodness the conversation that ensued:
Nurse: "Who told you you were GBS positive?"
Me: "Um, my OB." Who do you think, dummy? You think I just made it up for fun?
N: Right, but which one, exactly?
M: Dr. Ohm.
Scuttles back to phone, mumbles something to Dr. Seltzer. Back to my room.
N: Do you have an alternate identity or an alias other than Kristi Van Wormer?
M: Shit, they're on to my superhero identity...I knew I should have taken off the cape and mask! Um, I was Talicska before I was married? Idiots.
N: But you've been married the whole time you were pregnant, right?
M: Firmly. Yes.
I could tell none of these answers were helping the situation...
She went back to her little phone station and after another 10 minutes FINALLY came back to my room to explain the insanity that just occurred. Apparently, I was in the hospital computers as "Christina" Van Wormer (instead of Kristina) so they couldn't find my name to order the right meds to my account. Hilarious, no? Yeah...it wasn't for me, either.
So at about 9 pm I was finally admitted to the Labor & Delivery Room. It was so surreal walking in there, seeing all of the monitors and the baby cart and the birthing ball and my bed...little did I know that I would not be delivering in that room after all...
I know I said this post would be from triage to epidural, but I am a long storyteller. So, this snippet ends here. Next time we'll review from L&D check-in to epidural. Smooches!
Friday, May 1, 2009
But tonight I'm going to have a BBQ with my hubby (and open a bottle of wine...hoping to down more than 1 oz. before being absolutely smashed out of my mind) and just enjoy our Friday evening as a little family. Thusly, the quality of your Friday night reading will go down, down, down. Sorry.
But, there is lemonade to be made: instead of reading my literary genius, look at this genius instead. Warning: Facebook link.