Just Randomness

There is randomness in my head tonight...it happens to all of us bloggers every once in a while and we just need to do a "brain/blog dump" to make it all go away!

So here are my thoughts (in no particular order):

Sleeping "in" is the shit! I didn't have to get Jenna up and ready for school, not to mention actually taking her to school, this morning, so I was able to sleep until the late hour of 8:15am!! Of course, I was up at 1am and 5 am feeding the little guy, so maybe now 8:15am doesn't sound too late to you either...but I swear to you, not having to get up at 6am and do the whole morning routine was the coolest thing ever this morning. Let's pray for a repeat tomorrow morning...along with a repeat on the night schedule and the ease at which he went back to sleep last night...

My little man is getting his routine down, and I'm thinking that routines are the best thing ever for little babies. I've got a post working in my head on this topic, so more on sharing our routine and those thoughts later...but as related to randomness #1 even his nights are falling into a fairly steady routine. Of course, as soon as I say that it'll all go down the drain! Man, I hope that I didn't just jinx myself!!

My heart goes out tonight to Heather over at Live.Laugh.Love. If you don't read her blog, you should, but even if your Reader is too full already, you might want to pop on over there and follow along with them for a little while. She gave birth a week ago...but she was only 27 or 28 weeks pregnant, so her little man Brayden was born 12 week premature. They're documenting their experiences going through such an early delivery and all, and it's really just heart-wrenching and heart-warming all at the same time. Wrenching because you hate to see this happen to anyone...and warming because Heather and her husband D have just stepped up to the plate/challenge and are becoming the best parents ever, even if it was a bit earlier than they planned on. You might notice the Praying for Brayden button that I put up to the right of my blog...please join me in keeping them in your thoughts and prayers during these next few critical weeks!

Here's a question (and the real reason that I started this post tonight!) for all of my C-section Moms out there. You all usually come through for me so well when I have questions, so feel free to help me out with comments below if this sounds familiar. Or even if it doesn't sound familiar and you think that I should be more alarmed than I seem to be!

Here's the question: when you had your C-section, did you have a lingering pain on or around the incision site? Like not a surface level pain, but something that feels more like it's from the internal incision? Let me explain a little better...sometimes when I stand up after sitting in certain positions, or bend over in certain ways, or even stretch across to reach something just out of my reach, I feel a little tug around what I think of as the "internal incision." And I use the words "little tug" very loosely, sometimes it's sharp enough to make me pause and grab that spot. But here's the thing - it's only on the right side. Never on the other side. I mentioned it to the nurses at the hospital (yes, I've had it for THAT long now!) and they assured me that it was totally normal to have that on the side where the incision was started. And they further told me that my doctor usually starts from the right side, so it made sense. But should I STILL be having it? I mean, it's been six weeks. I know that the body can take time to heal and all, but it's been SIX WEEKS. I have my six-week check up tomorrow morning, so I'll be sure to mention it to my doctor, but I just wondered if any of you had experienced anything like this...

And since it doesn't feel right to leave you without a picture of the little guy, here's a sneak peek for you...I took some pics today to compare 3 weeks to 6 weeks and here's a preview:
I know, I know...I'm so mean. That shot doesn't show ANYTHING! But it's pretty darn accurate - he IS totally handsome! :)

The Best Laid Plans - My Birth Story, Part III

Need to catch up? Click to read Part I or Part II...

When we last left off, Jax's heart rate kept dropping with no discernible explanation for why and the dr was making the decision of whether to let me continue with labor or to prep the OR.

It didn't take her long to decide. And once she made the decision to take Jax via c-section, there was a flurry of activity within our L&D room. Nurses were rushing around everywhere, I could see Brent out of the corner of my eye putting on scrubs so that he could accompany me into the OR and I was being hooked up and unhooked to several different machines. You know, the same types of machines that I was already hooked up to but this time they were mobile.

It was literally less than 5 minutes later that they started wheeling me down the hall towards the OR. And that's when it hit me. That's when the tears started. I couldn't stop them or control them. I wasn't trying to cry, I really wasn't. But I was scared. Like really scared. When I say that I don't do well with needles, I mean that I REALLY don't do well with needles. The dr kept misunderstanding my tears and she kept apologizing to me, telling me again and again that we had tried to do it my way, and he just wasn't coming out and now for his health we had to take him this way.

Truth be told, I wasn't crying because I didn't get my way. I was literally scared shitless of being awake during the c-section procedure. Feeling the pressure as they took my baby out of me. Being awake to hear the dr ask for the scalpel was just my undoing. Literally my undoing.

We got to the OR way too fast for my comfort level, and when they wheeled me inside, they made Brent stand outside. One of the nurses told me that once they had me ready and prepped then they would be back to get him and bring him inside. So, there I am scared shitless and they WHEEL ME IN ALONE. ALL ALONE. More tears ensued.

I wasn't really aware of what was going on at this point. I know that there were two people at my head, a nurse and the anethesiologist, talking to me, working on increasing the epidural dosage to prep me for surgery and the poor nurse kept talking to me, trying to calm me down and calm my nerves. Not that it helped, but it was really sweet of her to try. And the whole time that they're doing all of this, someone is still pumping on my stomach and monitoring Jax's heart rate to keep it elevated.

Right about the time someone tells one of the nurses to go and get my husband and bring him into the OR, they test my lower extremities to see if the meds have kicked in and we're green for surgery. Imagine everyone's surprise when I let out a big old "OOOWWWWW!!!!" when they poke my left side. And it was loud, let me tell you. I don't know what they poked me with, but I felt all of it. And I really can't say who was more surprised - me or them. LOL!

Apparently, the left side of my body rejected (for whatever reason) the anethesia. My right side was nice and numb, but in case you didn't know, they can't do a c-section on only one side of your body. It has to go all the way across. The decision was then made to put me under general anethesia. Imagine my relief. It's what I had asked for all along, the total knock out, not hearing it all or feeling anything. I was told that it was too tricky to do it that way, but apparently we were at the point of no return and Jax was coming out right then and this was just going to have to be the way that it was. Period. No questions asked.

So the nurse that was leaving to go and get Brent was stopped cold by my cry of pain. Once it was announced that I was going all the way under, she had the unfortunate job of going outside to my stressed out husband and telling him that due to unforseen complications he would not be allowed inside the OR. She did tell him what happened so that he wouldn't worry too much, but he was crushed. Absolutely crushed. He wanted to be there to see it all (he's NOT a wuss like me!) and cut the cord and all that jazz, and was now being denied that privelege.

He went back to the L&D room where our family and friends were gathered and waited. Of course, he tells me that no sooner than he had taken his scrubs off and repeated the information to everyone than the dr walked in holding Jax out to him to hold. She knew what it meant to Brent to be there, and she later told us that she broke a few hospital rules herself taking the baby out of the OR so quickly to him. Of course, she was followed by the baby nurses, and Jax was in good hands.

After allowing Jax to be held for a while by his proud Dad and passed around to everyone in the room, the nurses stepped in to take him over to the baby station and start grading him on his Apgar levels/scores and cleaning him up a bit. It was at this point that Brent started asking nurses when he could go back to Recovery to see me. And that's when one of the well-meaning nurses told him that I didn't want to see him.

Which wasn't entirely true. She took my words out of context. At least she did go on and give him my full statement, which knowing me as well as he does, he totally understood. But I'm sure that at first he was still a little hurt to hear that I didn't want to see him. You see, when I came around in Recovery, I didn't know what had happened. I was really out of it, and when it all came rushing back guess what came back with the memories?

If you answered the tears, you'd be right. I was crying buckets again. Mainly because I was a little loopy and not sure of my surroundings and looking for a friendly face. Which you would think my husband's face would have worked nicely for that, right? Wrong. When the nurse asked me if I would like to see Brent, I said "No. It'll just make me cry harder. I need a few minutes."

I meant it in the nicest way possible. My throat hurt (later I figured out that this was from the breathing tube) and I knew that the tears were just making matters worse. The two nurses watching over me in Recovery were really trying to help calm me down, but I knew that the sight of either Brent or Jax at that moment was going to start the waterworks again.

To give me a little bit of credit, within 5-10 minutes I had calmed down enough and I was ready to see both of them. Brent came back to Recovery and visited with me for a few minutes, but didn't have Jax with him. Luckily, he had brought his phone along, and there were several pictures that I could view. Brent was crying, I was crying a little bit again, and we were two happy parents. I was sad that things didn't happen the way that we had wanted, but was completely over the moon that everything was ok. Jax was fine. And I was in some pain, but doing ok.

Brent explained to me at this point that the umbilical cord had been wrapped around Jax's neck. Just looped there once, and pretty loosely, so there was no great concern about any damage done, but it was the only thing that the dr could see that was preventing him from engaging and making progress towards the vaginal delivery that I had wanted.

About the time that he finished these explanations to me, the nurses needed to check out my "girl parts" and Brent opted to go back to the room (they were moving us into a regular post-delivery room) and oversee things there.

The nurses assured him that I would be in the room within about 15 minutes or so.
Except that's not what happened...stay tuned for the last twist in my birth story. I promise it's the end!

The Best Laid Plans - My Birth Story, Part II

Did you miss out on Part I? Read it here. Then come back!

After calming down a notch (or twenty) we headed off to the maternity ward of our hospital. We had finished making our phone calls, my parents were starting their long drives to get here in time, and Brent's parents were going to pick up and keep Tanner for us and collect our hospital bags for us. We had done all that we could do up to this point, and there really wasn't anything else to do except check in, settle in and have this baby!

We walked up to the nurses desk, and true to her word, my dr had already notified them of our pending arrival. They had a room all ready for us, and showed us where to go. I was instructed to disrobe, put on the hospital gown and get into bed - the nurse would be back in a few minutes to start the check-in procedures.

Check-in procedures. Yeah, read "start your IV." Which for me, was the second biggest thing that I was dreading. Yes, I know that you have to have an IV, as I've done this before. But I didn't like it then either. My biggest fear? Ending up in the OR for a c-section. That involved more than needles. There's scalpels, staples, breathing tubes, lines and incisions. Ugh. I'm getting the shivers just typing out the words.

Anyway, we explored our L&D room a bit - it was pretty large, and Brent was really taken with the baby's corner of the room where the warming tray and lights were already set up and all. He thought that was just the coolest thing ever! And he kept saying over and over "Babe - imagine, our baby boy is going to be here (gesturing with his hands to the baby bed) in a few hours!" There was a large bathroom with a double-size shower, and a closet full of laboring tools such as birthing balls, etc. Not to mention both a rocker and a couch that folded out to a full-size bed. Don't get all excited, Brent assured me that it wasn't nearly as comfortable as a real bed!

We settled in, me with my back naked for all the world to see, and waited for the nurse to come back. When she did, she settled in at her computer to input all sorts of information about both of us and the baby and our pregnancy thus far. She warned me ahead of time that she had 50 million questions, and she was right! It took almost an hour, but at the end of it the hospital knew everything about me, Brent and the baby that they could possibly need to know and more.
Then came the consent forms. Everything that I was being admitted for had risks associated with the procedure, from the aversion therapy to the induction process, and I had to sign my life away on three or four short forms. After signing the forms and consenting to the treatments, you're pretty much done. Signed, sealed and delivered. Or soon to be delivering?

The nurse had warned us before the game of twenty questions started that the aversion therapy session was going to run a bit later than they had originally thought. My dr wanted to have an anesthesiologist on standby in case I couldn't deal with the pain - just what I wanted to know right then, right? And the anesthesiologist on call that night had just gone into a surgery that would last about an hour. So, the dr wasn't planning on coming in until the good drug dr was ready, and that gave the nurses plenty of time to admit me and prep me.

By prep me, read "start IV line." I had pre-warned the nurse about my troubles with needles and sticks and she came prepared. I think that she brought not ONE extra nurse, but TWO! I guess she took me seriously, huh? One of the nurses, Becky, proclaimed to have an anti-fainting trick up her sleeve and wanted to try it. Her trick? To open up an alcohol wipe and hold it under my nose (kinda like smelling salts) to give me something else to focus on. I have to admit that it worked. I got a little weak-behind-the-knees at one point, but held on and pushed through it just like a big girl. I would say that I had my big-girl panties on, but I've already admitted to being nakey-nakey beneath my gown, so there goes that.

Once that was done we settled in to wait. Around 8pm my dr came in and told us that it was almost time to start. She offered me the epidrual from the get go, but I chose to try to make it through without anything. Don't ask me why, I honestly don't know. I mean, it's been my experience in the past that when you're in labor and someone offers you drugs, it's ok to say yes. I guess maybe since I technically wasn't in labor yet I didn't want to take them? Who knows.

Either way, she gathered the nurses, had me sign off on one last form and positioned the bed and Brent to where she wanted them to better assist me. Then she picked up that tube of gooey stuff that they squeeze on you during your sonograms and took the cap off. Yeah. The cap came off. And the ENTIRE contents of the bottle were then put onto my baby bump. I think that it was at this point that I started making jokes about the process being sort of like a "massage." The fact that the dr and both nurses started laughing should have clued me in. Not that I really thought that it would be like a massage for real, but I was trying to lighten the moment and it worked.

She rubbed the gooey stuff around on my belly and then positioned my bed all the way down so that she had a good position to start pushing Jax around and then she began. I would like to say that I completely remember all of the details about this process, but I don't. It hurt. A lot. But it wasn't unbearable. She pushed and pushed and then would pause and give me a rest while leaving pressure on my belly to prevent Jax from going right back. She gave me big breaks at each quarter turn that she completed, but I couldn't wait for the last quarter turn to be done and over with.

The great news is that the aversion therapy worked like a charm. Sure, it hurt a bit, but honestly it wasn't as bad as I had been expecting. I wouldn't recommend it over a picnic in a park, but it had to be done and it worked beautifully. Now that Jax was in the right position, head down, he needed to engage and not turn around. Which meant that my water had to be broken.

This is a small point that I missed during the previous talks with my dr. I knew that being induced meant having Pitocin to initiate contractions, that much I knew.

What I didn't know is that before they start the Pitocin, they break your water. Or maybe I should say with my unique situation that meant that they needed to break my water first. This would prevent Jax from turning back around into his favorite position (transverse) due to the lack of fluid allowing him to turn. You see, when she did my sono back in her office, she also measured my fluid levels. Apparently you have to have a good amount of amniotic fluid left in order for aversion therapy to have a better chance of succeedng. Normally the week before your delivery date, your fluid level measures around 10. I had 18. (I'm not entirely sure about what the water is measured in - Liters, Gallons, whatever - so I'll refrain from saying what it is. Either way, normal was 10 and I was at an 18.)

I'll be perfectly honest here and tell you that her breaking my waters hurt a HELL of a lot more than the aversion therapy. I meant a LOT more. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that while she was down there trying to speed things along, she also stripped my membranes. Then she used the big "crochet hook" to break my bag. Or maybe I should say tried to break my bag.

Some fluid came out, but not the big gush that she was expecting with my fluid levels. She didn't think that she got a good puncture out of the procedure, so she left me for an hour to see what would happen and then come back to check me in an hour. In the meantime they started the Pitocin on me to get my contractions going.

Right before all the excitement started, my friend T (MOH) got to the hospital so she was there for all the procedures and to help Brent take my mind off of things while the hour long wait passed. Brent's parents had also been by to visit for a minute before all the "fun" began so that we had our things. We were sending texts out to family and friends to give updates, and knew that we were just playing a waiting game at this point.

My dr returned to check me an hour later. As she had suspected earlier, she did not get a good break on my water, so we did the procedure again. It wasn't really any less painful the second time around, but it was slightly better since she didn't have to strip my membranes. This time, when she was done, there was the expected big rush of fluids out and the nurses proceeded to "pack me" with towels. I guess that I should mention that I was not allowed out of the hospital bed from this point forward as they were having troubles keeping the monitors where they needed to be.

Even though the nurses were good about moving me around from side to side and trying various positions to help me labor better/easier, I got stiff as the night wore on. I was having contractions regularly, like every three minutes, but I wasn't really feeling much pain. Of course, when the nurses checked me, I was only dilated to 2 cm. I was making progress, and Jax was staying where he was supposed to be, but it was slow going.

By 1 or 2am, I was feeling the contractions and breathing through them. My Mom and step-dad had arrived right after 11pm, and my Dad and step-mom had also gotten there. As my Dad has his own motorhome, and that's what they had traveled in, they left early on to get some rest. Around 1-2am, I had decided that I was ready for the epidural. I was measuring 3 cm at that point, and my dr had already signed off on me receiving the epidural. The anethesiologist came in and got to work. Now, I don't remember much about the process of receiving the epidural with my daughter's birth. Mainly because the anethesiologist had an assistant who had rather large breasts (very buxom) and all that I remember was that she grabbed my face and planted it into her cleavage. So I was a little distracted through the actual epidural process that time around.

There was no assistant this time, and I was very aware during the process. It didn't really hurt, but wasn't completely comfortable. At this point though, I wanted some relief and some sleep. And I really wanted some food. I had last eaten at lunch, and I was allowed all the ice chips, water and popsicles that I could eat. But let me tell you, those popsicles were a lifesaver! Just not really all that filling.

By 2am, everyone else had left except for Brent. My Mom and step-dad and T had left to go to our house to get some sleep. My step-sister was the only person left, and she came in for a bit to visit until I started to drift off. Brent and I both tried to get some sleep, but with nurses coming in every 30 minutes to check this or that, sleep is hard to come by.

Around 4am, things started to get really interesting. The baby's monitor had started going off every 5-10 minutes. Now, when it would go off, nurses would rush into the room and re-adjust the monitors on me to try to get a better reading on his vitals. Around 5am, the dr had been notified and she visited us to check out the situation for herself.

When she did a pelvic check on me, she noted that I was dilated to 4cm, but the baby had not engaged or descended very far into my pelvic canal. And even though the Pitocin had been administered all night, they kept having to shut it off when the baby's heart rate would drop. So I was having to start back at level 2 on the Pitocin every hour or so. In other words, we weren't making much progress.

She said that she would give me another hour to try to make better progress and she increased the Pitocin to 10 to try to help me out, but warned me that if in an hour I hadn't made progress that we would have to discuss other options. The baby was not responding well to either the positions, the Pitocin or whatever and his and my well-being had to be put first.

During the hour that passed, the nurses tried all sorts of positions for me. Although I'd been given an epidural, I still had control of my legs and could help them move me around. We tried my left side, my right side, on my hands and knees.

But no matter which position that they put me into, within a few minutes Jax's heart rate would fall again and they would all rush in to massage my belly. When I realized that the dr rubbing my belly and making me rock back and forth on the bed was sort of like CPR through my belly, I understood that the situation was maybe a little more serious than they were totally telling us.

Don't get me wrong. Our dr was honest with us from the get go. But I think that she was trying not to alarm me or cause me any distress that might also affect the baby at that point. But when I got what was happening and that unless she was rubbing/rocking my belly his heart rate was falling, I knew that we were in a little bit of trouble. I knew then that thiings were serious and we were going to have to make some serious decisions. Fast.

The Best Laid Plans - My Birth Story, Part I

You know by now that I'm the type of person who likes to know what's going on. I like to have a plan, even if it's just a loose one. It doesn't have to be intricate and detailed, but I like to have a general idea of what's happening. Call it controlling, call it Type A personality, call it what you will - that's just me. And I approached my upcoming birth no differently. I didn't do a lot of research, as I'd done this thing before, and my vision really was just that things would go a lot like last time. You know, I would have some contractions, feel the time getting closer, my water would break, then we'd go to the hospital and have a baby.
Simple. To the point.

My "birth plan" if you could call it that, had two main bullet points: I wanted drugs and Brent wanted to cut the cord. Beyond that, the rest was just details that I didn't have any need or desire to know about. Easy, peasy.

I'd like to tell you that I got exactly what I had envisioned or what I wanted. That would be a GREAT story to tell, even if it would be a bit on the boring side. Boring is ok with me, by the way. But I don't have a boring birth story. I got the exact opposite of my "birth plan." I had excitement, drama, high emotions. You name it. I had it.

So here goes. My birth story.

It all started innocently enough. I wrote here about some problems with increased swelling, which prompted an emergency visit to the drs office to be check for pre-eclampsia. If you read that post, you know that they checked me out and sent me home, with instructions to come back the next day for my regular weekly appointment. It was my 39 week appointment. I went home a bit disappointed, but relieved that nothing major was wrong with either the baby or myself.

The next morning, it was all that I could do to get out of bed. I was literally dragging as far as energy levels were concerned, but I could feel the need to go into work for as long as I could so that I could wrap some things up. Deep down inside, I just knew that things needed to be as wrapped up as I could get them today, just in case. I went to work, did my thing, and was relieved to get finished by 11am. I knew that staying until my normal time of 1pm was out of the question, as my legs were starting to swell right above my ankles already and all the "fun" stuff the day before happened between noon and 1pm. My goal was to be on my way home before noon, and I was able to leave around 11am.

I came home, settled into bed, and took a quick nap. My alarm went off at 1pm so that I could wake up with enough time to make myself some lunch before a 2pm conference call that I couldn't miss. I made a grilled cheese sandwhich and had some Pringles, and then dialed in for my call. It ended around 2:30pm, which worked out well for my 3pm drs appt.

Just as I got into my car to leave the house for my appt, Brent called to tell me that he was running late. He had been sent home earlier during the day due to lack of deliveries needed that day, and had gone to lunch with his Dad while I took my nap. While at lunch, his boss called him back in to work, and he had to go in to make two "quick" deliveries. Those deliveries ended up taking almost 2 hours, and he was calling to tell me that although he was done with his last delivery he was about 30-45 minutes away. He was rushing as fast as he safely could manage to make it to the drs office in time, but realized that being there at 3pm was out of the question.

I encouraged him to drive safely and take his time. I reminded him that the week before we had had to sit in the waiting room for an hour before being seen in the back, and that he probably had plenty of time.

Yeah, you know how this is going to go, right? When I walked into the drs office to check in, there was one other person in the waiting room. And I wasn't early. Yeah.

I spent ten minutes in the front before being called back. I texted Brent to let him know and proceeded to be weighed and measured. You know, the fun stuff. Turns out that it's not so much fun to get weighed during week 39. The scale was showing that I had gained 5 POUNDS in one week. Now, for some people maybe this isn't alarming. But for someone that had gained a total of 18 pounds through the WHOLE pregnancy, this was alarming. Then I looked down at my feet and knew the reason for the big gain. My friend, water. Once again, despite laying down for the past 4 hours, my legs were swollen all the way up to my knees.

Which meant that I had to pee in a cup again. I was slightly more talented at accomplishing this task than I had been the day before, and managed not to pee on my hand. Probably just luck, not skill. While they tested my protein levels again, my blood pressure was checked (normal) and I was all set to wait another 20 minutes to see the dr. Thus buying Brent a little more time.

And she walked in 5 minutes later. It was REALLY not my day!

We talked for a few minutes (as I hadn't seen her the day before) and discussed that although the swelling was uncomfortable and slightly alarming, all other signs of pre-eclampsia were missing - which was a relief. Then she took out her tape to measure me. And got quiet. When she started feeling around my belly in different spots and making "hmmm" sounds, I couldn't take it any longer and I asked what was wrong.

She said maybe nothing, but had I felt any large movements in the past few days. I answered honestly that the last day or so there had been a decrease in movement altogether, but had felt nothing that I would classify as "big." This apparently was the wrong answer. She told me that she wanted to hook me up to the fetal monitor to count movements, but that first she needed to take a sonogram to confirm her suspicions.

As I got settled into the sono room, she confided in me that she felt that Jax had "disengaged" and was free floating again. Further bad news revealed that he was no longer in the head down position favorable for birth, but that she thought that he was sideways. Now, if you've been following along for any length of time, you might recall that him being breech has been my biggest fear all throughout this pregnancy. I don't really know why, other than normally when babies are in the breech position, it leads to a C-section for delivery, which I would be trying to avoid at all costs. Me and needles are NOT friends. Ergo, me and major abdominal surgery would also NOT be friends.

When I said something about him being breech, the dr was "nice" enough to correct me and explain that Jax was not breech - breech is feet down. Jax was apparently nice and happy in a transverse position - totally sideways across my abdomen. And Jax wasn't JUST transverse, he was also backwards, with his butt to my cervix. The most completely unfavorable position for birth possible. Any type of birth, by the way, even a C-section from this postion was almost impossible to safely deliver as there would be nothing for the dr to grab onto to pull him out once she had me opened up. At least, not without "feeling around in there to find something" and possibly doing some damage to me.

At this point, I asked her to stop talking. I was FREAKING OUT!

She concentrated on the sonogram pictures that were coming up, and was happy to report that she was right and Jax was transverse. And backwards. I'm not sure, but I think that she was expecting me to be happier for her being right. That didn't really happen.

By now she could see that I was freaking out, not that I was trying to hide it or anything, and she suggested that we call Brent. I had mentioned when she first came in that he was on his way but running late. As he's only missed one appt throughout the whole pregnancy, she understood my need to have him there, and wanted him with me before we started discussing options. Since she wanted me to spend half an hour or so on the fetal monitors anyway, I could call him and tell him to hurry and then we could do the monitoring while we waited on him to arrive.

Naturally, getting a phone call that he needed to hurry because the dr wanted to discuss "our options" was enough to send his speedometer up another level. It was already running pretty high. He arrived in less than 5 minutes, much to my relief. I tried to explain what I knew at that point, but as it was very limited information he wasn't satisfied and we were both anxious to see the dr.

Luckily, she came in right away to talk to us. She explained to Brent again what was going on with Jax's position and why delivery of any type would be difficult.

Then she started in on our options. Since I was at 38 weeks, 6 days I could technically be induced the next day or midnight that night since that's when I would hit the important 39 week mark. (It's a hospital rule or something.) But that option wouldn't be recommended as he wasn't in the right position. She strongly encouraged one of two other options.

Option 1 was to allow her to attempt to turn Jax around into the right position. It's called manual aversion therapy or something like that. She explained that the process to us, she would admit us into the hospital right away then come down once I was all checked in and attempt to turn Jax into the right postion from the outside. This mainly involved pushing him around through my stomach with the use of sonogram gel to make it slick and "easier" on me. She explained the risks of this option being that he could turn back around before I went into labor, or that Jax might not respond favorably to being pushed around and she would have to go in and do an emergency C-section.

Oh, and turning him around meant turning him in a 3/4 circle since he was backwards. You see, his head was on my right side, so she would have to turn him head up, then head to the left, and then finally head down towards the pelvic region. Just so you get the full picture.

The pros to this option would be that the aversion would work and Jax would get into the right position. That I would stay admitted to the hospital and she would induce me immediately in order to hopefully keep him from turning back around. I might be able to deliver normally (vaginally) and stay far away from the OR.

Option 2 was to schedule my C-section for early the next morning. I could go home and relax for the night (as if!) and come back at like 4am to be admitted and readied for surgery that might be a little more difficult due to his position.

To sum it all up for you, all roads seemed to be leading to C-section. Because my dr was VERY honest about the slim chance that I had of the vaginal delivery that I was wanting. She was willing to let me attempt it, but also honest enough to tell me that it might not be doable. We both knew that the options were really broken down into two steps, with the first step being doing the aversion therapy to turn him. Either way, letting her attempt that first would give Jax and I a better chance, no matter if the birth was vaginal or C-section. After only a moment of eye contact between the two of us, with no words spoken, we agreed to let her do the turning and increase our chances at a safer delivery.

She released us from the office and told us to move our cars around to the front of the hospital and go straight to the Maternity Services desk and check in.

Wait. What? You mean NOW? As in, right now, do not pass Go, do not collect $200 or your bags from the house NOW? Oh. And that's when the tears started.

As I left the drs office, I was trying really hard not to cry, but totally not succeeding at it. The tears were streaming down my face and Brent was trying unsuccessfully to console me. We made a few phone calls - parents, work, friends and such - and I cried through it all. As I talked with my Mom, I totally lost it and wailed out "I know that it's going to be OK, but this is NOT how I pictured this happening?!?! This isn't what I wanted!"

Because you know, it matters what I want at this point...yeah, not so much.

The Best Laid Plans - My Birth Story, Part IV

If you need to catch up with where the rest of us are, click to read Parts I, II, or III of my birth story.

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.

Yeah.

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!











Jaxon Paul - Born July 23rd at 6:13am

Would You Try This???

So, I was talking with my step-mother last night about the "big" news. You know, the news that I'm finally making progress with all of these false labor pains. Not that 1cm is that much progress, but she was all excited and I didn't have the heart to calm her down. I mean, she's gonna be a grandma again, you know? If I raided her of her excitement at this time, it would be like killing a puppy in front of my eight-year-old.

And I don't play that way.

Instead, I let her have her excitement. And her excitement was even contagious to my Dad who called to tell me that he would be "at the farm" this weekend (that's two hours further from me in the wrong direction, since you didn't know) and that I should just "call him" when all the excitement was over.

He was teasing of course. He was actually calling to make sure that I had the farm cell phone number since the reception out there in the boonies along the Louisiana/Texas border is whack and he has to have a special cell phone JUST to get service there. I assured him that he would be called, if needed.

Anyway, back to my story. So at some point during all of the texting back and forth, my step-mom asks me this question:

Helpful SM: Hey - would you be willing to try maternity acupressure to induce your labor now that it's safe?

Ok, so I'll admit to being a moron for about 3o seconds or so because my gut reaction was "Hell no! Dude, you know that I have thing for needles!" Yeah, I call everyone Dude regardless of gender. And yes, for a moment or five I got acupressure and acupuncture mixed up. I'm silly like that. You all love me anyway, right? Thanks!

Once I realized my mistake, I texted her back for more information on the subject. She sent me this link and told me to do a search on youtube.com for videos of how to do it. I actually checked it out and now I'm intrigued. And I'm wondering if anyone else out there has heard of such a thing. More importantly, do you know if this works???

Because I have to be honest here. If my research proves that it's entirely safe for me to try, and the videos seem to be pretty self-explanatory, then I might be willing to actually try this shiz. So help me out please and tell me that you know something about this. Or know someone who tried it and it did/didn't work.

I'd REALLY love to hear some stories!