More gory details

All through my pregnancy, I worried about a long needle being inserted into my spine. Seemed scarier than actually even going into labor, right? And everyone told me that when you get to that point, the last thing you're worried about is a needle. Turns out they were right. They could have inserted the Space Needle up my back by that point and I wouldn't have cared. Anyway, the epidural came and I went through more contractions. I still felt like pooping but the pain was gone.

And around this time, just when I thought I was going to be a medical anomaly and remain at 4 and a half cm for 3 years, they checked me again, and I was at 8!! So finally, things were happening. Contractions had become more intense, and I was getting more and more dilated. I was almost ready to push and by this point, I was ready. An hour went by and I was 9 cm! Another hour went by and I was at 9.5.

Everything was moving nicely, except that they checked me again an hour later and I was still at 9.5. They waited a couple more hours, came back, and I still hadn't reached 10. The nurse said I was really really close but the last bit of my cervix did not want to open up. I don't know what time it was at this point, but it was probably about 1 or 2 in the morning. And if they came in and said I was still close but not there yet one more time, I was ready to get down there and rip the baby out myself. Well, no, but dude, there's nothing more discouraging than seeing the finish line but not being able to reach it.

Not to worry, the nurse said. A lot of times, you can just push your way past that last bit of closed cervix. So she had me start to push. And push. And push. A contraction would come and she'd tell me when/how to push. Basically they tell you to push like you're trying to get a turd out (a total AHA moment right there for me -- this is why so many women poop during labor I guess). I pushed for what seemed like forever. She kept checking my cervix and it still hadn't opened yet! I'm glad I got the epidural if for nothing more than the cervical checks, god they were excruciating before. And I got a whole lot of them.

And during this whole time, the nurse has been saying several things. One, that it seems to be a night for emergency issues and c-sections and she was not going to have me add to the trend. And two, although I would need to have a c-section if I couldn't dilate to 10 cm, she didn't anticipate it getting to that point. But then as I kept pushing and nothing kept happening, she stopped saying that. Finally, my doctor came and made the call, said that if I'd already been pushing for that long, there was really nothing else to do. If my cervix still wasn't opening up, that was a sign that the baby was probably too big.

The rest of the night was a blur. I was exhausted and could barely keep my eyes open. Once we made the decision to go for the c-section, everything happened quickly. I think they had us all prepped and the baby out in less than half an hour. They had G get scrubbed up and wheeled us into the operating room (him in a wheel chair, I think, just in case he fainted, though I'm not sure). And I guess they put a curtain up between my top half and bottom half and cut me up. Oh they gave me drugs, but later, the anesthesiologist told me that I had been snoring away even before he gave me anything. G hung out by my head so I'm not sure how much he could see. And then before I knew it, it was 3 am and they were telling me I had a girl! A girl! I'm still in shock by that, by the way. I had been so mentally prepared for a boy. But honestly, they showed her to me, and all I remember thinking is "cool" and drifting back to sleep.

I do remember though being with it enough to tell G to follow the baby. Cuz they took the baby away to wash her up while the doctors stayed to close me up. And G was too busy hanging out with me to pay attention to where the baby went. There was a flurry of activity too because there were all kinds of people in the operating room. Earlier in the evening, when my doctor had to break my water, they had found some meconium in my water (it's basically baby poop -- I guess sometimes it's common when babies are late for the poop to seep into the amniotic sac). And they were worried that the baby might swallow some on her way out. So there were doctors and nurses from the neonatal intensive care unit on stand by to clear out the baby's lungs in case that happened. Not a huge deal if they're prepared for it, but potentially scary if they're not. Plus there was my doctor and nurse, the c-section doctor, the anesthesiologist, and I don't know who else. There was a lot going on, and all I really remember is how sleepy I was and how quickly it all seemed to happen.

While they were closing me up, G went with the baby to watch them clean her up and give her initial shots and tests. They apparently told him that the baby's head had been rammed up against my cervix trying to push her way out but that her head had been too big for my cervix. So that's why I couldn't finish dilating. She might have been slightly out of position also, but they said it wouldn't have mattered anyway because I was just too small for her. Damn big husbands! G had told me what a huge baby he was, and I had been freaked out about this the entire pregnancy.

Knowing this kid like I do now, I also kind of wonder if she had been too lazy to push that hard. She doesn't seem like the type to go that extra mile if she doesn't have to. :) But who knows, I guess all that matters is that at the end of the day, we have this super adorable little girl. I may be biased but she didn't even look like a little alien when she was born. You know how a lot of newborns are kind of goopy and ET-looking? Not this one! I swear, she looked like a baby right from the start.

Anyway, I guess that's it for the gory labor details. All the nurses kept telling me that at least next time, I wouldn't have to go through labor at all. I could just schedule a c-section and be done with it. And I guess now that I've had to come to terms with having one at all, might as well. But good god, really, another one????

the gory details (Part I)

Aside from the cloth diapers and my brief foray into the idea of natural child birth, I wouldn't really call myself earth friendly (i.e. hippie). I mean, sure, I try to be environmentally conscious, eat healthy foods, get my pets at animal shelters, and try not to medicate too often. But for the most part I like modern conveniences. It used to be that I didn't even have a cell phone, but I live with Mr. Gadgets now and I've gotten used to the easy life. And one day soon, now that we have 3 dogs and a kid, I know that I'll have to break down and probably buy a car that gives less than 30 miles a gallon. I do what I can but have no problems giving up an ideal for convenience. Plus I'm a huge believer in science and modern medicine.

Despite all this, I had a vision of how my labor would go. When we were in our birthing classes, a lot of women said they're biggest fear was having a c-section. I had no such fear. Honestly, I felt that at the end of the day, I would do whatever needed to be done to get the baby out. And if my doctor felt that a c-section was necessary, then that's what would happen. I didn't WANT it per se. I didn't even want the doctor to make a slit to help the baby come out if it came down to it, let alone a c-section scar. Ideally, I decided I'd rather tear (I know it sounds terrible, and there are really no advantages to either, but see my previous post about the Kool-Aid) and heal naturally than with a cut and stitches. I didn't even want to be induced. So definitely a c-section is even more invasive and definitely not on my "must have" list, but I barely thought much about it.

But it was easy not to think about it because in my head, I always felt that it would never go there. I mean, how on earth could I possibly have issues delivering a kid? Child bearing runs in my family, and I always just figured I was built for it. I never really thought much about it but I think it was a source of pride. And when the moment came that the c-section became necessary, that was probably what stuck in my craw the most.

And the moment was a LONG time coming that day. Because I went into the hospital Monday morning at 7 am to be induced after being almost a week late. The baby apparently did not want to come out. Actually, we were supposed to go in Sunday night, but as we were walking out the door, the hospital called and said that they had no more beds, that it was a crazy night, did I want to come Monday morning instead. Sun, they were supposed to give me this drug to help my cervix dilate. By the end of labor, my cervix is to have dilated 10 cm, a lot of women start the process during the last weeks of their pregnancy. As of my last doc appointment, I was completely closed.

So all night, I was supposed to hang out while the meds did their thing, then, when it was time, they'd give me drugs to induce contractions. That was the plan. I could probably sleep while I was dilating and wake up ready to start feeling the pain. But everything got pushed out and we came in Mon morning armed with videos for entertainment. To my surprise, it turned out that I had started having contractions and was dilated already without knowing it. 3 cm, one third of the way there! So they decided to skip the drugs altogether to get my cervix dilating and went straight to the pitocin to induce contractions. A few hours went by, nothing happened. We watched videos, updated facebook every few minutes, caught up on emails. If you're planning on going to labor, a hospital with WI-FI is key.

A few more hours went by. The nurses would occasionally come and examine my cervix (OUCH, that was probably more painful than contractions). They kept upping my pitocin and I still felt nothing. They kept asking if I wanted an epidural. I said, very proudly, no.

At around 3 or 4 pm, I was still just at 4 cm. My doctor came and broke my bag of water around 4:30 or so, and they assured me that things would much more quickly after that. At the next cervix check a few hours later, the nurse said I was at 4 cm. Then she saw my disappointed face and said, "Well, maybe 4 and a half." Awesome, a whole half cm. And still I felt nothing. My doctor said that 4 cm was a good time to get the epidural, but I said no. Well, I still hadn't felt anything, so it seemed silly to get pain killers.

The timing starts to get a little fuzzy, but at some point, they inserted this wire up me to try to better monitor the strength of my contractions. That made it a bit harder to pee. Then suddenly, maybe around 9?, without any warning, I felt my first contraction and it was a doozy. I don't even know how to describe it except that it was pretty much hell AND I felt like pooping. Plus my lower back hurt which I don't think is normal or a good thing. There was no gradual easing into them either, one second I barely knew I was having a contraction and the next minute I couldn't miss 'em. All day, they had been occurring every 4-5 minutes (which is what you want), but all day, they'd been trying to increase the intensity and suddenly they succeeded.

So as I mentioned yesterday, I pretty much broke down right away and asked for the epidural. But it turned out that some one else was having an emergency and the anesthesiologist was busy with her and couldn't get to me for a while. So I ended up gritting my teeth through contractions every 5 minutes for over an hour before God came and inserted a long ass needle up my back.

To be continued . . .

evolution of an idea

So up until about the 37th week of my pregnancy (i.e. 3 weeks before my due date), I thought my birth plan was completely set in stone. And basically, it involved me asking for the epidural in the parking lot, or maybe even a couple of days before. Ideally, I would have preferred to be completely knocked out and maybe drunk the whole time, but I figured that probably wasn't an option. So I was ready the moment we got to the hospital to say the magic words: "Gimme drugs NOW." I don't deal with pain well. I start wincing and whining before it starts.

And I hate to say this, but my opinion of people who decided to give birth "naturally" was that they were utterly insane. You know, like the tree-hugger, don't want to shave my underarms, kind of insane. Or my mother. But she's from a one-road village in a developing country, of course she'd be for all natural childbirth. Women have been giving birth for thousands of years, she said. What did I need drugs for? Sure they have. And yeah, some women dropped their babies in the fields and kept right on working, but a lot of them also dropped dead. This is why we have modern conveniences now, like doctors and hospitals, and medicine. And I plan on using every single one of them.

Except . . . well, I made the mistake of going to a child birth class. You know, to be better informed about these things. And apparently, all these classes are taught by midwives and doulas (i.e. who needs drugs school?). And a lot of what they said made sense. You know, the part about women recovering from natural labor more quickly, and our bodies only producing a baby that we could deliver naturally, and the occasional side effects of various drugs. I can't remember exactly what all they said to convince me, but suddenly, I was drinking the Kool-Aid. Mostly, it just seemed empowering, like of course I could do this. Why not, after all, women have been doing this for thousands of years. . . .

So for about a month, I walked around thinking that I'd go for it, that'd I have an all natural child birth. And I did it without really telling anyone. Cuz I didn't want to sound like a nut. And I didn't want to go on about it and then not. And anyway, I wasn't a 100% sure what I wanted. Because there was just one problem with the whole plan, the whole pain thing. If only I could have a natural child birth without feeling any pain! But I thought that I'd give it a shot and just see what happened.

Anyway, the idea lasted well into my labor. All day, the nurses kept asking me if I wanted drugs, and I said no. Honestly, apparently I was having contractions but they didn't seem that bad. My doctor came late in the afternoon and said that it was a good time to get an epidural if I wanted one. I said no, I was doing great. Well, early that evening, the pain started. I felt my first real contraction, and I started to cave. The next one came around and my mind was pretty much made up. But just for kicks, I endured a few more and then rang the call button.

And that was that. I've decided now that natural child birth is WAY overrated. It turned out that I had to wait over an hour before they could actually give me my epidural, so I got a fairly good taste of what child birth was all about. And I gotta say, if you can do it, kudos to you, but I'm going back to my epidural in the parking lot next time around. Though actually, as it turns out, I'll have it easier than that even next time around, but I'll have to save that for my next post.

The DZ

AKA the PrimaDonna AKA the turd AKA the most gorgeous thing ever . . .

So I have a kid. An adorable, won't-stop-fussing-during-the-day, little girl. When they told me that it was a girl, I almost had a heart attack. Well, I was heavily doped up and exhausted after being unsuccessfully in labor for almost 20 hours, so actually I think I said "OH" and then promptly fell asleep. But now, I'm about ready to have a heart attack. Me, with a girl??? What the h-- am I going to do?? Everyone thought I was having a boy. And I mean everyone, including the random girl in the Social Security line that called out to me one day just to guess that I was having a boy. Well, actually first, she said I was having a girl. Then she asked me to turn around and said, no, no, I'm definitely having a boy. And come on, random people hanging out in line accosting pregnant women are ALWAYS right, no? I guess a few people guessed I was having a girl, but for the most part, everyone seemed to think I carried like a boy. The Chinese gender predictor also expected me to have a boy. As did a number of internet tests. Which goes to show you that the internet is apparently not always right. I know, you could have blown me over with a feather!!

Anyway, I'm shocked, but utterly in love. Maybe I'm biased but I'm pretty convinced that I have the cutest girl ever. Even when she's being a total turd, like she has been this week, she's pretty darn adorable. Her eyes tear up when she's crying (and she's been doing a lot of that this week) and sometimes all I want to do is laugh cuz it's so cute.

I guess that's a bit of an exaggeration. This week, she's been super fussy. They say newborns feed anywhere from 1.5 to 3 hours. Which sucks cuz it means I never really sleep for more than 2 hours at a stretch (cuz it takes a good hour to do a feeding a put her back down). She sleeps pretty well at night, and I've been taking advantage more and more and stretching the feedings farther out than I probably should. But during the day, she feeds for however long she decides to feed for, then fusses until the 1.5 mark comes up and then is hungry again. I can handle sleeping in short increments if I absolutely have to but no one told me that I'd be stuck with a crying kid all day who constantly pooped and peed between feedings (seriously, sometimes I went through 3-4 diaper changes in a half hr period this week). And honestly, no matter how cute she is when she cries, this part has NOT been fun. I suddenly get why new moms get so frustrated. There have been moments this week when I've wanted to cry myself, and I don't look nearly as cute doing it (actually far from it -- I'm totally gross now, I'm lucky if I can sneak in a shower every day and usually right after I come out, I usually get spit up on or something so that all my shirts now seem permanently stained with baby barf).

So anyway, all this is my roundabout way of saying that I have a new baby girl. And I'm trying to get back to blogging. But it's hard. When I do get a couple of hours during the day when the kid seems to be passed out, I want to nap myself. Or eat, or hop in the shower. I don't know that I've done any of those things this week without getting woken up. I was in the shower for 5 minutes yesterday when my brother yelled out that the DZ had taken a huge dump and was fussing (you can hear her pooping -- I'm honestly surprised I didn't hear it in the shower, she's so loud). G went back to work this week, so I'm struggling to manage on my own. My little brother is here hanging out this week, and has been helpful in some ways, but it's not the same. As evidenced by the fact that when she took a dump yesterday, he was nice enough to yell that out to me and had her waiting to be changed on the changing table but didn't actually change the diaper himself.

I don't plan on this becoming a mommy blog or anything, but I have lots of baby-related stuff to write about. Hopefully, as the weeks go by, I'll get into a groove, and get back into blogging regularly. I know you're all dying to hear about my gruesome labor details and breastfeeding issues. But for now, you'll have to bear with me a bit, and just keep checking in for new posts every so often.

Oh, I'm still debating putting up baby pictures on this blog. I'm not sure how comfortable I feel about that yet -- I don't know, I watch too many grisly crime shows and there was this one I remember where this guy got hit with pornography charges because some wacko stumbled onto his family blog or something. I know it's a long shot, especially with the small readership that I have, but I'm still debating. Of course, all of you that are on Facebook will get lots of photo updates, as I find more time to start sorting through more pictures.