If you didn't catch the "not so fun" that was part 1 you can find it >>> here.
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As I assumed would happen Saturday morning, I couldn't sleep and woke up at 3am. That wasn't so bad considering we had to call the hospital at 4 to make sure they had a room for me.
The plan was to eat breakfast at a diner before heading to the induction, that didn't work out at all.
What I really wanted was going to take too long so I just settled to get a waffle from Waffle House. Well, they had a bad night and we were showing up the same time as a bunch of barely legals. When the girl said it would be 45 minutes for a waffle we just decided to leave - I could go home and make one in less time that that.
Somehow we landed on Burger King, but not before I had laid eyes on the hospital. That's when the anxiety set in. I got a smoothie, not as carby as I wanted, but I was on the verge of throwing up just from the site of the hospital next door!
Checking in didn't get rid of the anxiety either.
In all honestly having an emergency appendectomy at 5 was traumatic enough that I've dreaded ever having children for the sheer purpose of having an IV put in yet again. Or even worse, having to have a c-section. The pain from a 90's appendectomy was enough for me, no thanks to the open belly operations.
Once we were settled into the room Jeremy went to get my bag and giant birthing ball out of the car.
All the better for him, because once the nurse started on my IV I lost it. Completely lost in, grown woman having a meltdown ugly cry kind of lost it!
I got it together after that, but it brought all my suppressed emotions to the front and I couldn't control them anymore, I was terrified about what was about to happen.
As if I wasn't already freaked out, they started the blood pressure machine.
Just to make it clear, I knew to have things go as close to how I wanted it to throughout the day I had to do some hardcore yoga breathing to keep my BP in a reasonable range.
Like I said yesterday, it wasn't about the baby's health at this point, it was mine.
So in the midst of deep breathing my not so light hearted nurses started telling me that I had to be put on magnesium and have a catheter placed in, and that I wouldn't be able to leave the bed.
Um, no!
We never discussed this!
I know my husband insisted I not argue with nurses, but this time it paid off.
The nurse started in on how I should have already discussed this with my OB, and I gladly informed her that we never discussed it. In fact quite the opposite was discussed, my OB told me to bring in my birthing ball because I could sit on it hooked up to the pitocin with the monitors on me.
I wasn't about to let them put that magnesium mess in me, I was just told two days prior that my blood work was FINE!
So I insisted she recheck her paperwork. Well turns out the order wasn't even in my doctors handwriting, so they called Dr. H. Woke the woman up from sleep to find this out, because I was not taking that medicine without them clubbing me over the head first.
Guess what, Dr. H told them that wasn't supposed to be on there.
Told ya mean nurse! I had just rechecked everything with my doctor two days before.
Luckily at not long after hooking me up to fluids it was time for shift change and I got the absolute best L&D nurse I could have mustered up.
She came in, started the Pit line, and we all rested for a little while.
Or should I say Mom and Jeremy napped while I hunted down History Channel.
Why History Channel while I was in labor? I had to get my BP down and it's the most monotoned things I could think of. Seriously, if you can't sleep try it.
My all day History Channel watching had the nurses laughing at me, and in my labor delirium I seem to recall trying to justify why I was watching it to everyone.
Some time after 8am my doctor got to the hospital, and said something I did not want to hear - "You're still 2 and 50% so I'm going to break your water."
Jeremy got really excited. I wouldn't call my reaction really excited.
I have to say, the sensation of wetting your pants every time you have a contraction is beyond weird. What made it stranger was that while the nurse was in, after the broke my water, I had her help me get set up on my birthing ball.
Now, from the position I was in I couldn't see the monitors anymore, I just had to hear the BP machine start up and start breathing.
Jeremy and Mom on the other hand were standing in front of me in clear view of the machine, discussing amongst themselves the fact that after a few minutes of rocking and bouncing on the ball I had less than a minute between contractions.
I remember being very concerned that my water would get on Jeremy's shoes. Every time I had a contraction it would soak through the adult diaper, hospital version of a puppy pad, towel, and then still make a puddle on the floor.
It was the most disturbing sensation ever.
Jeremy was more concerned after the fact that someone would Clorox wipe the ball down.
They were great though, I had Jeremy applying counter pressure with tennis balls during contractions.
What I did learn was that keeping your hands by your side while being injected with that much liquid will result in more swelling. Ick.
An hour later the nurse came in to add more paper to one of the machines, by then I was in so much pain - and I mean my pelvic bones being ripped from each other pain - that I started discussing the side effects of Nubian with her... knowing how I react to Demerol.
She decided to check me, and I kid you not in an hour I went from 2 cm and 50% effaced to 5 cm and 80% effaced.
Thank you birthing ball!
So I got an epidural.
Did I originally plan to definitely get one, no. But I also didn't plan to get Pitocin and feel like my hips were being taken out of my body.
I was really worried about progression with the epidural and didn't want to land in the operating room if I could prevent it.
As a side note, anyone who ever tells you the epidural was awful is a lie. The IV hurt way worse then the epidural. The scariest part of it was that I had to sit still and I was in so much pain, and my contractions were so close together that I was afraid I would jerk while she was putting it in.
At that point, I just cried out of fear of moving. Not from the pain.
Now why they insist on asking you a million questions while putting the epidural in is beyond me. She asked my name, I said I don't know. Birthday? Again, I had no idea. I finally managed to blurt out through the pain at Jeremy to start answering the questions because there was no way that I could.
10 minutes later - sheer happiness.
I was officially bed bound like I never wanted to be, but the pain was so intense I had no choice.
Once my pain was under control we were back to joking around. I may have even slightly napped. I can't call it a full nap because that dreaded IV hurt too bad.
It was in my right forearm by the way, my dominant arm, and when I gripped or did anything with that hand I was hurting once again.
There was a bit of lag time and around 3pm my OB checked me again and said we were 10 and 100%, but... but the baby was face up.
So they positioned me on my side and had me stay there for an hour in hopes of Harrison turning the right direction. Guess that explained the back labor.
A good 45 minutes of that hour totally sucked. My epidural was still working in my legs and stomach but had worn off in my pelvic area. We were back to the hips being ripped apart sensation.
For that entire 45 minutes I cried during contractions while Jeremy put pressure on my hips and attempted to remind me to not hold my breath.
Finally, 15 minutes before the doctor was coming in and we were going to start pushing the epidural let me hit the button and get another nice dose of happiness.
Thank you Jesus!
Things didn't go nearly as fast as I had hoped. I pushed for and hour and 45 minutes because of his position.
Now in that time frame is where the comedy club came in. I ended up with 4 nurses hanging out down there, all of whom continuously commented on how fabulous my epidural was because if they put my legs in place I could pick my bottom up so they could change out whatever was going on down there.
Since there were 4 of them, in and out, just seeming to enjoy the experience and cracking jokes once they realized I was in the same mood my main nurse left.
She went next door to check the other lady in labor and found the baby was presenting face first, something I saw a picture of in an Ina May Gaskin book and would never want to see in person. Poor thing came back slightly horrified as she recounted the event to the other nurses.
First she felt like she poked the baby in the eye.
The she was sure she felt his nose.
And it was for sure face first when the baby started sucking her finger.
Everyone was dying laughing and she had to retell it multiple times.
It didn't end there.
Keep in mind Jeremy is uber modest, and I am in stirrups with everything God gave me exposed for the world to see and I'm sure I was just a janitor short of having the entire hospital staff stick their hands up there.
One of the other on call doctors barges into the room to start picking on my poor nurse, acting out the eye poking thing from the 3 Stooges.
We spent quite a while laughing about her poking a baby in the eye.
Remember how I said my acid reflux had been bad, well they laid me flat on my back and as luck would have it I started gagging. And puking into that odd little blue bag isn't easy when you're flat on your back.
After everyone decided to get me Zofran, oh old faithful Zofran friend, I finally convinced someone to let me sit up a little more during pushing just to keep the reflux at bay.
In that hour and 45 minutes, every single contraction I had not only had me pushing... but the petite blonde nurse they deemed to have "little hands" down in the catching position with both of her hands wrist deep in you know where with her hands on either side of Harrison's head trying to turn him with every push.
When my doctor came in... she did the same thing.
Finally we got to the point where they could see his hair... and as she announced that he had a ton of brown hair I yelled out that I won! The Puerto Rican genes prevailed over Jeremy's pasty blonde self.
Yes I was making color bets in labor, with 4 nurses and a doctor all up in my business.
We eventually got the little sucker out, one of the nurses asked if I wanted to deliver Kourtney Kardashian style (pull him out myself) but there was no way. I was super nervous.
The next part is entirely why I chose the hospital I did, right before he came out they pulled my gown up and then plopped him onto my chest.
And we stayed that way for an hour.
I got to do skin to skin and nurse before anyone took him away. No one else was able to hold him. I got to sit up a tiny bit more and the nurses helped me figure out nursing as my OB sewed me up for an hour.
Yes, an hour. I tore quite a bit with all the trauma of turning the baby, 2nd degree (just so I don't forget).
This is where I get fuzzy, but I remember asking for food immediately. I obviously couldn't have a sandwich tray delivered while I was being stitched back together... but Mom, former Girl Scout leader - always prepared Mom, had granola bars. I managed to get permission to eat a Gramfull S'mores bar.
I then apparently went on and on about how it was the best thing I had ever eaten. So much so that when we got home and I sent Jeremy shopping he came back with some, and I didn't even request them.
I do recall the nurses asking why I was downing so much water all of the sudden, which I had to explain that for a month I had only been able to take a sip or two without throwing it up from the reflux. So having the baby out gave me instant relief and allowed me to finally get to drink something!
Finally the nursery nurses came in and handled everything right in the room.
My Dad and Grandfather were able to hold him, we took pictures. It was all super sweet.
When it was finally time for us to move to the next room a nurse asked if I could walk.
Heck I didn't know, I sure hadn't tried.
I was then informed I would have to have the catheter put back in if I couldn't walk... turns out I could walk.
We all paraded down to the room and I got my sandwich, finally. I must say it was the best sandwich I had ever eaten, a full day without eating will do that to me. I could have been handed a cup of rocks and would give the same response at that point.
The first night in the room was a total blur, but Jeremy was great at helping me up and giving me the baby to nurse. I really did land a good guy.
I did have to laugh though because he spent 2 nights curled up on a two cushion sofa, he's over 6 feet. The day we left, I had already been discharged and we were waiting on Harrison, the pastors from our church came by to visit. Jeremy complained about the size of the bed and about how it wouldn't pull out... and come to find out it actually would pull out. Our worship pastor who recently had a baby showed him that... two days late. Why a nurse never took pity on him I'll never know, but it was funny.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Now this post has gone on long enough today, so tomorrow I'll be back with pictures.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
As I assumed would happen Saturday morning, I couldn't sleep and woke up at 3am. That wasn't so bad considering we had to call the hospital at 4 to make sure they had a room for me.
The plan was to eat breakfast at a diner before heading to the induction, that didn't work out at all.
What I really wanted was going to take too long so I just settled to get a waffle from Waffle House. Well, they had a bad night and we were showing up the same time as a bunch of barely legals. When the girl said it would be 45 minutes for a waffle we just decided to leave - I could go home and make one in less time that that.
Somehow we landed on Burger King, but not before I had laid eyes on the hospital. That's when the anxiety set in. I got a smoothie, not as carby as I wanted, but I was on the verge of throwing up just from the site of the hospital next door!
Checking in didn't get rid of the anxiety either.
In all honestly having an emergency appendectomy at 5 was traumatic enough that I've dreaded ever having children for the sheer purpose of having an IV put in yet again. Or even worse, having to have a c-section. The pain from a 90's appendectomy was enough for me, no thanks to the open belly operations.
Once we were settled into the room Jeremy went to get my bag and giant birthing ball out of the car.
All the better for him, because once the nurse started on my IV I lost it. Completely lost in, grown woman having a meltdown ugly cry kind of lost it!
I got it together after that, but it brought all my suppressed emotions to the front and I couldn't control them anymore, I was terrified about what was about to happen.
As if I wasn't already freaked out, they started the blood pressure machine.
Just to make it clear, I knew to have things go as close to how I wanted it to throughout the day I had to do some hardcore yoga breathing to keep my BP in a reasonable range.
Like I said yesterday, it wasn't about the baby's health at this point, it was mine.
So in the midst of deep breathing my not so light hearted nurses started telling me that I had to be put on magnesium and have a catheter placed in, and that I wouldn't be able to leave the bed.
Um, no!
We never discussed this!
I know my husband insisted I not argue with nurses, but this time it paid off.
The nurse started in on how I should have already discussed this with my OB, and I gladly informed her that we never discussed it. In fact quite the opposite was discussed, my OB told me to bring in my birthing ball because I could sit on it hooked up to the pitocin with the monitors on me.
I wasn't about to let them put that magnesium mess in me, I was just told two days prior that my blood work was FINE!
So I insisted she recheck her paperwork. Well turns out the order wasn't even in my doctors handwriting, so they called Dr. H. Woke the woman up from sleep to find this out, because I was not taking that medicine without them clubbing me over the head first.
Guess what, Dr. H told them that wasn't supposed to be on there.
Told ya mean nurse! I had just rechecked everything with my doctor two days before.
Luckily at not long after hooking me up to fluids it was time for shift change and I got the absolute best L&D nurse I could have mustered up.
She came in, started the Pit line, and we all rested for a little while.
Or should I say Mom and Jeremy napped while I hunted down History Channel.
Why History Channel while I was in labor? I had to get my BP down and it's the most monotoned things I could think of. Seriously, if you can't sleep try it.
My all day History Channel watching had the nurses laughing at me, and in my labor delirium I seem to recall trying to justify why I was watching it to everyone.
Some time after 8am my doctor got to the hospital, and said something I did not want to hear - "You're still 2 and 50% so I'm going to break your water."
Jeremy got really excited. I wouldn't call my reaction really excited.
I have to say, the sensation of wetting your pants every time you have a contraction is beyond weird. What made it stranger was that while the nurse was in, after the broke my water, I had her help me get set up on my birthing ball.
Now, from the position I was in I couldn't see the monitors anymore, I just had to hear the BP machine start up and start breathing.
Jeremy and Mom on the other hand were standing in front of me in clear view of the machine, discussing amongst themselves the fact that after a few minutes of rocking and bouncing on the ball I had less than a minute between contractions.
I remember being very concerned that my water would get on Jeremy's shoes. Every time I had a contraction it would soak through the adult diaper, hospital version of a puppy pad, towel, and then still make a puddle on the floor.
It was the most disturbing sensation ever.
Jeremy was more concerned after the fact that someone would Clorox wipe the ball down.
They were great though, I had Jeremy applying counter pressure with tennis balls during contractions.
What I did learn was that keeping your hands by your side while being injected with that much liquid will result in more swelling. Ick.
An hour later the nurse came in to add more paper to one of the machines, by then I was in so much pain - and I mean my pelvic bones being ripped from each other pain - that I started discussing the side effects of Nubian with her... knowing how I react to Demerol.
She decided to check me, and I kid you not in an hour I went from 2 cm and 50% effaced to 5 cm and 80% effaced.
Thank you birthing ball!
So I got an epidural.
Did I originally plan to definitely get one, no. But I also didn't plan to get Pitocin and feel like my hips were being taken out of my body.
I was really worried about progression with the epidural and didn't want to land in the operating room if I could prevent it.
As a side note, anyone who ever tells you the epidural was awful is a lie. The IV hurt way worse then the epidural. The scariest part of it was that I had to sit still and I was in so much pain, and my contractions were so close together that I was afraid I would jerk while she was putting it in.
At that point, I just cried out of fear of moving. Not from the pain.
Now why they insist on asking you a million questions while putting the epidural in is beyond me. She asked my name, I said I don't know. Birthday? Again, I had no idea. I finally managed to blurt out through the pain at Jeremy to start answering the questions because there was no way that I could.
10 minutes later - sheer happiness.
I was officially bed bound like I never wanted to be, but the pain was so intense I had no choice.
Once my pain was under control we were back to joking around. I may have even slightly napped. I can't call it a full nap because that dreaded IV hurt too bad.
It was in my right forearm by the way, my dominant arm, and when I gripped or did anything with that hand I was hurting once again.
There was a bit of lag time and around 3pm my OB checked me again and said we were 10 and 100%, but... but the baby was face up.
So they positioned me on my side and had me stay there for an hour in hopes of Harrison turning the right direction. Guess that explained the back labor.
A good 45 minutes of that hour totally sucked. My epidural was still working in my legs and stomach but had worn off in my pelvic area. We were back to the hips being ripped apart sensation.
For that entire 45 minutes I cried during contractions while Jeremy put pressure on my hips and attempted to remind me to not hold my breath.
Finally, 15 minutes before the doctor was coming in and we were going to start pushing the epidural let me hit the button and get another nice dose of happiness.
Thank you Jesus!
Things didn't go nearly as fast as I had hoped. I pushed for and hour and 45 minutes because of his position.
Now in that time frame is where the comedy club came in. I ended up with 4 nurses hanging out down there, all of whom continuously commented on how fabulous my epidural was because if they put my legs in place I could pick my bottom up so they could change out whatever was going on down there.
Since there were 4 of them, in and out, just seeming to enjoy the experience and cracking jokes once they realized I was in the same mood my main nurse left.
She went next door to check the other lady in labor and found the baby was presenting face first, something I saw a picture of in an Ina May Gaskin book and would never want to see in person. Poor thing came back slightly horrified as she recounted the event to the other nurses.
First she felt like she poked the baby in the eye.
The she was sure she felt his nose.
And it was for sure face first when the baby started sucking her finger.
Everyone was dying laughing and she had to retell it multiple times.
It didn't end there.
Keep in mind Jeremy is uber modest, and I am in stirrups with everything God gave me exposed for the world to see and I'm sure I was just a janitor short of having the entire hospital staff stick their hands up there.
One of the other on call doctors barges into the room to start picking on my poor nurse, acting out the eye poking thing from the 3 Stooges.
We spent quite a while laughing about her poking a baby in the eye.
Remember how I said my acid reflux had been bad, well they laid me flat on my back and as luck would have it I started gagging. And puking into that odd little blue bag isn't easy when you're flat on your back.
After everyone decided to get me Zofran, oh old faithful Zofran friend, I finally convinced someone to let me sit up a little more during pushing just to keep the reflux at bay.
In that hour and 45 minutes, every single contraction I had not only had me pushing... but the petite blonde nurse they deemed to have "little hands" down in the catching position with both of her hands wrist deep in you know where with her hands on either side of Harrison's head trying to turn him with every push.
When my doctor came in... she did the same thing.
Finally we got to the point where they could see his hair... and as she announced that he had a ton of brown hair I yelled out that I won! The Puerto Rican genes prevailed over Jeremy's pasty blonde self.
Yes I was making color bets in labor, with 4 nurses and a doctor all up in my business.
We eventually got the little sucker out, one of the nurses asked if I wanted to deliver Kourtney Kardashian style (pull him out myself) but there was no way. I was super nervous.
The next part is entirely why I chose the hospital I did, right before he came out they pulled my gown up and then plopped him onto my chest.
And we stayed that way for an hour.
I got to do skin to skin and nurse before anyone took him away. No one else was able to hold him. I got to sit up a tiny bit more and the nurses helped me figure out nursing as my OB sewed me up for an hour.
Yes, an hour. I tore quite a bit with all the trauma of turning the baby, 2nd degree (just so I don't forget).
This is where I get fuzzy, but I remember asking for food immediately. I obviously couldn't have a sandwich tray delivered while I was being stitched back together... but Mom, former Girl Scout leader - always prepared Mom, had granola bars. I managed to get permission to eat a Gramfull S'mores bar.
I then apparently went on and on about how it was the best thing I had ever eaten. So much so that when we got home and I sent Jeremy shopping he came back with some, and I didn't even request them.
I do recall the nurses asking why I was downing so much water all of the sudden, which I had to explain that for a month I had only been able to take a sip or two without throwing it up from the reflux. So having the baby out gave me instant relief and allowed me to finally get to drink something!
Finally the nursery nurses came in and handled everything right in the room.
My Dad and Grandfather were able to hold him, we took pictures. It was all super sweet.
When it was finally time for us to move to the next room a nurse asked if I could walk.
Heck I didn't know, I sure hadn't tried.
I was then informed I would have to have the catheter put back in if I couldn't walk... turns out I could walk.
We all paraded down to the room and I got my sandwich, finally. I must say it was the best sandwich I had ever eaten, a full day without eating will do that to me. I could have been handed a cup of rocks and would give the same response at that point.
The first night in the room was a total blur, but Jeremy was great at helping me up and giving me the baby to nurse. I really did land a good guy.
I did have to laugh though because he spent 2 nights curled up on a two cushion sofa, he's over 6 feet. The day we left, I had already been discharged and we were waiting on Harrison, the pastors from our church came by to visit. Jeremy complained about the size of the bed and about how it wouldn't pull out... and come to find out it actually would pull out. Our worship pastor who recently had a baby showed him that... two days late. Why a nurse never took pity on him I'll never know, but it was funny.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Now this post has gone on long enough today, so tomorrow I'll be back with pictures.
