THE BIRTH STORY.

At our final OB appointment, on November 11th, it became apparent that everyone, including our OB, was increasingly concerned with the size of our baby.  My belly had increased from "cute" to "holyshit,motherfucker!" and I was suffering from a separated pubic bone (read:  PAIN.)  So, it was decided that I would be induced on Sunday November 17th.

At 4am that Sunday, I rose and collected my belongings.  The Hub and I made our way to the hospital and checked-in.  It took a while, but I was eventually hooked up to monitors and plugged into a giant IV of Pitocin.  For those of you unawares, this is the hellish liquid that induces labor.  It is a hormone that your body makes (Oxytocin) for such an occasion.  Typically, they will increase your "units" by one every hour - up to 20 until you deliver (We'll get to this. . .)

Through the afternoon, I managed to dilate from my steady 4cm to 5cm.  In the early evening, I made it another half a centimeter before my pubic pain got so bad that I asked for the epidural.  Let me explain something, people.  My birth plan (which means nothing in the face of adversity) was to go natural.  I was going to have a quick delivery with no issue.  Really.  My pain tolerance is enormous and I can breathe through stress with the best of them.  So, believe me when I tell you that asking for the epidural was a last resort.  I was sitting on a birthing ball, trying to coax my junk open just a little further, leaking fluid ALL OVER THE FLOOR. . . and I felt like my pubic bone was cracked down the middle and ripping outwards. Pleasant picture.

Over night, the epidural became my nightmare.  I had searing pins and needles combined in a complete inability to move my legs on my own.  The Hub rang for the nurse an I writhed around trying to feel anything but pain in my legs and feet.  The anesthesiologist came quickly and temporarily turned off the epidural pump.  It was theorized that a pre-bedtime bolus bump of medicine caused my reaction - so we would have to be extra careful in the future (we'll get to this, and it ain't gonna be pretty.)

The next day, Monday November 18th, I was still just at 6cm.  A call to my OB yielded quick, but horrific results (more story to come).  Since I was already at 20 units of Pitocin per hour, I was bumped up to 30. Seriously.  We jumped to 30.  But, at noon, I was completely dilated, contracting, and ready to birth!

Before I knew it, I had been pushing for two and a half hours!  The time flies when you are focused.  I credit the nurse, my Hub, and our persistence for the quiet room and calm surroundings.  The Hub was able to lean in an see the hair on our baby's head!  The nurse, however, was able to lean in and see that there was no way our broad little man was going to come out the old fashioned way.

Our OB arrived and very frankly informed me that the baby wasn't physically able to move past my pelvis. Despite our desire to have a natural vaginal birth, we would need to go to the OR for a C Section.

Here is where the fun comes back from the evenings epidural crazy. . .

The anesthesiologists did not want to put my body back into the awful state of the night before, so they proceeded as slowly as they could with the medicine.  I was rolled into the OR and a tent was constructed in front of me to block the shock inducing sights that no woman should ever see while she is experiencing it.

There was some pretty intense tugging feeling and then I heard my baby cry.  The Hub hopped up and the nurse brought the baby for tests and measures.  21.5" long and 10lbs5oz.  I gave birth to two babies' worth of baby.  A true man child.

Of course, nothing can be easy. . . about the time the pain came rushing back, I spoke out loud to my OB through the curtain, "whatever you are doing right now. . . FUCKING hurts."  He responded, "where is it hurting, Suzi?"  I calmly directed him to my lower right abdomen. . and then it seemed like everyone in the OR started moving VERY quickly.  I guess I got it right.  They were working on sewing me back together when the anesthesia wore off.  My anesthesiologist appeared over my left shoulder and pumped something cool into my epidural.  Crisis averted.

The baby scored a perfect 10 on his APGAR - partially due to the fact that he wasn't just pink and wriggly at birth but RED.  Bright screaming red.  And healthy.  Mama was proud.  And then, he latched on like a pro.  We will discuss more about breast feeding in later posts. .

It has been 11 days and we are home.  And adjusting.  Clearly, my blogging has been affected (it has taken me four hours to type this.)  But, I will carve out more time in the future.

QUICK UPDATE.

I am enormous and over 38 weeks.  My pelvis hurts me.  I am still dilated nearly half way, but my cervix is very high.  We are playing a nasty waiting game where no one wins.

It is frustrating that we spent the better part of the year working to keep him in and now he refuses to come out.

At some point, when it is not so fresh, I will write about the anxiety and mixed emotions that come with a pregnancy after a loss and a pending arrival. . .

For now, keep us in your thoughts.  He can't stay in there forever!

COMPLICATIONS.

Remember that time I was pregnant and fell?  Right.  That was yesterday.

Today, my ankle looks very similar to normal. . with the exception of a little puff on the inside.  It does not, however, feel okay.  In fact, it feels like high school.  High school was when I vastly injured my ankle (read:  it was black.  And I'm yellow.)  and instead of taking a few weeks off of it (and on crutches), I made my way into another mosh pit.  Yeah. 

So, I will hobble around today even more than with just a clicky pelvis.  I am feeling energized and like I need to accomplish some very important nesting items. .  

1.  I must complete the winterizing of our home.  I need to get a large propane tank converter for my inside-safe propane heater.  I must stock up on puppy-safe sidewalk salt.  I must track down an ergonomic snow shovel.  I think it is important to point out that while the original shovel that my Da bought in 1983 is still functioning and full of nostalgia, it is easier to pick up and throw snow with a bent handle.

2.  I must inventory and thin out the herd of food products in my deep freeze.  If I do not, there will be nowhere for my milk to live.  This will not do.  So, in the coming week, we will likely have freezer food for meals.  Sodium, what?  I think there are some cornish game hens in there that are dying to be trussed.

3.  At some point, I will need to sit down and have lunch so that I can relax and take a load off.  A really wide load off.

4.  The invitations for the baby shower are ready to be mailed.  The Hub and I compromised on some "heart seal" forever stamps instead of the Johnny Cash ones that I wanted and the American Flag ones that he wanted.  Putting hearts on envelopes is asinine to both of us - so they work.

All of this must be accomplished by 3pm - as that is when we will need to begin the drive to drop off our accomplice MyMandy (did I ever mention that I feel like you can get anywhere in this town in 30 minutes?) and come home to rest up for a family birthday dinner.  I think we can manage. . . or at least come close.  I'm not sure I can actually get any of the things on my winterizing list - outside of the propane tank converter. . thankfully, I still have a HUGE stockpile of ice scrapers and sub-zero window washer fluid.

CLOSE THOSE EYES!

What's worse than watching a pot to boil?

Having dozens of other people doing it, too.

Meanwhile, I fell today.  It was kind of bad.  So, now I feel even worse than I did AND people keep calling for "updates"

Therefore, I will no longer respond to inquiries.
Pot watchers.

SEMI PRECIOUS STONES

While I wait. . and wait. . and wait for this baby to make an appearance, I will fill you in on some of the moderate annoyances that have taken over my life.  Today, I want to discuss the miracle and wonder that I call Nipple Crystals.

Remember those science experiment packs that your Great Aunt Tillie used to send in the mail when you were a kid?  They might contain Sea Monkeys (Brine Shrimp that your Da would later feed to his fish) or an Ant Farm (which would eventually fail and free all detainees.)  Then, there was the Grow Your Own Crystal packs.  I'm pretty sure colored sugar and string made up the package and you just added water.  Remember those brittle little crystals that eventually climbed out of the Tupperware bowl?

These crystals are the same.  Except you don't need shit but a lactating boob and some dry air.  It's a MIRACLE!

I'm not sure you know this, but there isn't just ONE tiny hole in your nipple.  There are crevasses.  Take a look one day.  You will see what I'm talking about.

When you being to lactate (more prevalent during pregnancy when you were just pregnant), all of the liquid doesn't get sucked out of the nipple.  Some of it stays and crystallizes.  You probably wouldn't notice except that there is an unsettling feeling of itch (AND SODOM AND GOMORRAH) in your nipples.  With a little fidgeting, you will produce a few tiny NIPPLE CRYSTALS.  And they will look like they would hurt if stuck in your nipples.

They look a little like ground sea salt.  I pretty sure they won't taste like it.