When the nurses pulled my gown up and my whatever was covering my "girl parts" down, they were apparently checking both the incision and the bleeding issue. I was packed down with towels and those monster pads pretty well, and when they pulled everything off, I saw the concern on their face.
Apparently there was a lot of blood. Like a LOT a lot. Not just a little more than normal, but a LOT. And mixed in with the blood were some clots.
Now clotting is nothing new to me, I usually clot during my normal periods. And clotting (as it was explained to me by the nurses) is a normal reaction in the body to the trauma of the wound created during the c-section. And you normally want your body to clot. Except after having a c-section? For whatever reason, after birth you DON'T want clots.
If you don't want clots at all, you definitely don't want large clots. Which is
what I started passing. Let me describe the size to you like they told me. Baseball size.
The one nurse called for back-up in the form of Becky, the head nurse to confirm what she was seeing. Becky rated it more the size of a golf ball, which is better, but still pretty large. And then, sorry if this is TMI, right about the time that they're all standing around staring at me, they changed my dressings/pads and then I passed an even larger clot. Becky rated this one the size of a baseball for sure.
So the dr was called back. Because apparently this is a serious thing. When I finally got someone to give me a second and give me some answers, I was told that if the clotting couldn't get under control then I would have to go back into the OR for a second surgery.
You can imagine my reaction. Yep, you got it. Tears. I didn't WANT another surgery, dammit. I'd already had one that I didn't want - there was no way in hell that I was having another one. The dr came and looked me over, ordered a new Pitocin drip to help my uterus contract from the inside, and assigned two nurses to stand there massaging my uterus from the outside.
Let me let you in on a little secret. If you've gone through aversion therapy, almost 10 hours of labor, and then had major abdominal surgery the very LAST thing that you want is someone massaging your uterus from the outside. But I didn't really get a vote at this point. And let's face it. A little pain and discomfort was WAY worth avoiding another surgery, right? Right.
I don't really know how much time passed. I was given all the ice chips that I could eat and at some point while they were monitering me (I'm guessing after several hours had passed and I should have been out long before now) a nurse came and asked if I wanted to see my Mother. Actually, she laughed and told me that my Mom was demanding to see me and didn't care if I wanted to see her or not. You see, I'm still her little girl no matter how old I am, and she needed to see for herself that I was ok.
I can't remember if Brent came back for a second visit before or after my Mom came in, but like I said, time kinda stood still for me back in Recovery while we waited to see if the Pitocin and the massage therapy were going to do the job or not. My loved ones were very concerned. Not only was there the threat of another surgery, but by this point I had lost a lot of blood and there was some talk about a transfusion being needed. Another thing that I didn't want. (This really wasn't my day of getting what I wanted, was it?)
Luckily for me, I made progress, enough to be moved out of Recovery and into my room to be around our family and friends. Unfortunately for me, once they moved me and got me settled all that water and ice chips came back up. Like repeatedly. I'm pretty sure it was at this point that I banned all pictures being taken of me. I felt like death warmed over, was sure that I smelled and looked like it, and didn't want any record of my appearance at that moment. Call me vain, I don't care.
They gave me a shot of something for the vomiting/nausea and another shot of something for the pain, and slowly by surely the room kind of cleared out for a bit. I think that I got a little nap in and once I was awake again, I felt like a new woman. I was ready to hold my baby, ready to see my family and friends that had been with us all night and through the long day (it was past 4pm at this point, and I went in for the c-section at 6am). Our other kids showed up, our family welcomed in the new addition and I was cleared for a dinner of clear liquids.
Keep in mind that the last time I had eaten was 28 hours earlier. I was thrilled to order that chicken broth, apple juice and Jell-O. It was the best dinner I had eaten in a LONG time, I tell you! Once my dinner arrived, most of our guests left us to get some rest and we settled in for the first night with our new little one.
Of course, before I could go to bed, the nurses had me get up out of bed and walk around...they don't mess around I tell you. They want you up and moving as soon as possible! I'll admit that although I didn't like the first nurse that made me get up, she was right and each time that I got up afterwards was easier and easier.
Besides, the sooner that I could make it to the bathroom and back, the sooner my catheter could be removed and I could take a shower! Woohoo! It's the small things, I tell you.
So that's it. That's my birth story. I know that it was long (Sorry - you know that I'm long-winded), but believe me living through it felt even longer. Of course, here I am almost two weeks later and Mother Nature is working her magic on me and making it not seem all that bad. Sure, I didn't get the delivery that I wanted, but the dr assures me that if I did want to have another little kiddo, that I would be a good candidate to try for a vaginal delivery at that point instead of having to do another c-section. It doesn't seem as bad now as it did then, and I have a beautiful baby boy in return...I couldn't be happier!