I couldn't decide if I wanted to write about the ten or so birthday parties growing up that I ultimately hated, nothing against my mother... it's that dang song.
Or that one party that was rained out and some parent suggested we tie balloons to our feet, everyone try to stomp them out, and the last man standing one. I hid under the table screaming my head off, I was 5 at the time. I can even tell you that the cake was Beauty & the Beast theme and who made it. That's had badly the dang balloon game scared me for life ha!
But instead we will rewind to the week I turned 29.
If I'm remembering right my birthday was Wednesday of that week, but I had my weekly OB appointment on Tuesday. I was 37 weeks pregnant with Harrison at the time.
I kept telling Jeremy that Tuesday we needed to go head and go out to eat for my birthday because I didn't think we'd get to do anything on Saturday. As I expected, I got to the office and was immediately scheduled for an induction on Saturday because my blood pressure was starting to effect my health. Harrison was still doing good, I was just not able to carry all that weight easily. So as I thought, Saturday morning would be our induction.
After the appointment we went out to eat, bought a yoga ball because my doctor thought all the balls at the hospital has run away, and we grabbed an ice cream cake from Dairy Queen.
Everything was going fine and dandy until Wednesday, my actual birthday.
It started off bad when I woke up really thirsty and broke my two sips rule (bad 3rd trimester reflux) and had a 3rd sip. I immediately started throwing up and when it finally stopped my entire face was doubled in size and the lymph nodes in my neck were so swollen they were showing. Jeremy suggested we call the hospital, but since my doctor wasn't on call I wasn't risking it. I was determined to not waste a single maternity leave day without an actual baby at the house.
So I went to work, swollen and probably in a blood pressure state that should have made me go to the hospital.
But I'm too stubborn for that.
Instead I got a phone call from my OB, from her cell phone, which she doesn't do, saying my urine test came back and I needed to check into the hospital the next morning because my BP was so bad.
Happy Birthday right?
Then 15 minutes later she called again.
Turns out the lab at the hospital I go to was having issues and all lab tests had to be sent to another hospital in town... and someone had mixed up my results with someone who had dangerously high blood pressure.
Major sigh of relief there.
We discussed how labor was supposed to go again, since I wouldn't be treated as someone with preeclampsia. Ball, check. Not being stuck in bed, check.
Then we got to the hospital Saturday for the induction.
The nurses apparently didn't get the memo that my results had been mixed up. They insisted I get on a drug that would cause me to stay in that bed without the ability to use my yoga ball to progress labor. I wasn't having it and refused to take the drug and made them call my doctor.
This didn't go over well, but I wasn't taking what they wanted me to take.
It was an "over my dead body" situation.
Luckily my doctor said I was right and I didn't need the drug. And everything else went as planned. '
You can read about it here and here and here.
Or that one party that was rained out and some parent suggested we tie balloons to our feet, everyone try to stomp them out, and the last man standing one. I hid under the table screaming my head off, I was 5 at the time. I can even tell you that the cake was Beauty & the Beast theme and who made it. That's had badly the dang balloon game scared me for life ha!
But instead we will rewind to the week I turned 29.
If I'm remembering right my birthday was Wednesday of that week, but I had my weekly OB appointment on Tuesday. I was 37 weeks pregnant with Harrison at the time.
I kept telling Jeremy that Tuesday we needed to go head and go out to eat for my birthday because I didn't think we'd get to do anything on Saturday. As I expected, I got to the office and was immediately scheduled for an induction on Saturday because my blood pressure was starting to effect my health. Harrison was still doing good, I was just not able to carry all that weight easily. So as I thought, Saturday morning would be our induction.
After the appointment we went out to eat, bought a yoga ball because my doctor thought all the balls at the hospital has run away, and we grabbed an ice cream cake from Dairy Queen.
Everything was going fine and dandy until Wednesday, my actual birthday.
It started off bad when I woke up really thirsty and broke my two sips rule (bad 3rd trimester reflux) and had a 3rd sip. I immediately started throwing up and when it finally stopped my entire face was doubled in size and the lymph nodes in my neck were so swollen they were showing. Jeremy suggested we call the hospital, but since my doctor wasn't on call I wasn't risking it. I was determined to not waste a single maternity leave day without an actual baby at the house.
So I went to work, swollen and probably in a blood pressure state that should have made me go to the hospital.
But I'm too stubborn for that.
Instead I got a phone call from my OB, from her cell phone, which she doesn't do, saying my urine test came back and I needed to check into the hospital the next morning because my BP was so bad.
Happy Birthday right?
Then 15 minutes later she called again.
Turns out the lab at the hospital I go to was having issues and all lab tests had to be sent to another hospital in town... and someone had mixed up my results with someone who had dangerously high blood pressure.
Major sigh of relief there.
We discussed how labor was supposed to go again, since I wouldn't be treated as someone with preeclampsia. Ball, check. Not being stuck in bed, check.
Then we got to the hospital Saturday for the induction.
The nurses apparently didn't get the memo that my results had been mixed up. They insisted I get on a drug that would cause me to stay in that bed without the ability to use my yoga ball to progress labor. I wasn't having it and refused to take the drug and made them call my doctor.
This didn't go over well, but I wasn't taking what they wanted me to take.
It was an "over my dead body" situation.
Luckily my doctor said I was right and I didn't need the drug. And everything else went as planned. '
You can read about it here and here and here.
