I read somewhere recently that you should put down your children's birth stories as soon as you can so you remember them. Since it has only been 5.5 years since I had my first I figure it's time. I have 5 stories, sort of, and so this may take a while.
My first pregnancy I was so excited. C was gone at training and that was a bummer, but I was pregnant and I could not wait to tell everyone. I was 6 weeks along, it was Easter 2008, and I was with my surrogate family/friends in Nebraska celebrating without C. I could not help but share the wonderful news. Everyone was excited for me and it was a great day. The next day I had a miscarriage. It's nothing more than a period with some uncomfortable cramping. Since I don't generally have cramping and I knew I was pregnant I was upset. I ended up going to the Urgent Care clinic through the base to be seen and they said, "you're miscarrying right now? We can't help you. You need to go to the ER". As a first time pregnant woman, emotional, and without a husband, this sucked! I called a friend and she went to the ER with me. We spent hours there and they poked and prodded me with internal ultrasound equipment, a catheter, and other such wonderful stuff to confirm my suspicions. I took the week off of work and had to go to the lady Dr that week to get a checkup on base. While there I informed them I had been poked and prodded enough and I would not be physically checked. The Dr was fine with that but had a sit down chat to see how I was. He informed me he understood as his wife had miscarried too. He then said the thing I will never forget, "doesn't it just make you angry knowing even crack whores get pregnant? What a waste". Wow, talk about timing and compassion.
Three months later C and I found out we were pregnant again. This time I did not want to tell anyone. I was so scared of miscarrying another child that I swore I would not tell anyone until 3 months was up. C on the other hand could not wait to share the news. He did not have to see me go through the miscarriage so he did not realize how emotionally challenging that was for me. He told his family and a few friends, but mainly we kept it quiet. At 42 weeks we went to the hospital to give birth to our first born. I decided to induce because even though my pregnancies are not hard, I hate being pregnant. I was done. I was tapped out. So we induce on Monday morning at 0800 Mar 24. I felt like I was a house. I had chords plugged into me everywhere, I had a monitor on my belly to watch babies heart rate, I had a monitor on my finger to keep track of my heart, and we were moving along. Throughout the day the baby would get a little stressed and I would be put on my side and on oxygen. Things would calm down and I could go back to normal. I had no idea how long this would take.
My water finally broke at 0100 on Tues morning. I got up to use the restroom and C cleaned up the bed for me. We informed the nurse that this happened and she didnt believe us. Then the contractions started. What a wimpy I turned out to be. I asked for drugs and they gave me some. The first dose lasted 1 hr. The second dose lasted 45 min. The third dose lasted 30 min. I wasnt sleeping much, the contractions sucked, I was unhappy. We did this for 6 hours. At some point I hallucinated a floating lite bright behind Cs head and began singing the song. C then began to freak out because his wife was a weirdo. I got into the tub, I rocked in a rocking chair (which was not comfortable), I threw up a few times... I hated pregnancy again and even more.
At 0700 on Wed I begged the Dr to let me have an epidural. I am a wimp! So then the Dr hooked me up and with what felt like 10 students watching I was given the epidural. It was like night and day. C watched the monitor of contractions and looked at me and was like, "You can't feel that?!" I was in heaven. Finally we could get some sleep. By about mid afternoon the epidural started to wear off. What the hell is that? They fixed whatever they needed and it was all better, for a while. Around 9pm the nurse checked my progression and said "you are 9 cm let's start pushing and I will call in the Dr". Okie dokie! So I start pushing. We get through about 3 contractions of pushing and my Dr shows up. "You need to stop pushing. You are at 6 cm". What?!?!?!?!
Oh by the way, my epidural wore off again, so I was feeling everything. My Dr looked at me and said, "you have dont well! Your baby is fine right now, you are doing okay right now, I think it's time to go to a C-Section. You are not progressing and the baby is. Do you both want to proceed with a C-Section?" At this point I was so exhausted, I was in pain, my body was not working this out, I was done. I agreed and C was right there with me.
We went in for the C-Section. I don't remember much of what happened next. I do remember laying on the table like Jesus with my arms straight out to the sides. At one point during the procedure I felt something hitting my hand. It reminded me of the tentacles from Independence Day on the Alien. I was worried it was my intestines. After asking C later I was told it was the suction tube which made a lot more sense. Haylie came out screaming just like she was supposed to and C was able to cut the chord and watched them take care of her. He was then invited to do the first bath with some nurse assistance while I was finished up and put into post op.
I remember being wheeled into the post op room and I felt like I was hit by a truck. I was dry heaving, I wanted to know what was going on but had no clue what people were saying. I vaguely remember C coming in to ask me if I wanted to see my daughter. This will weigh on my heart for my entire life. My response was "no". What he told me later was that he was holding her. I had no idea. The Dr started talking to me about possibly needing a blood transfusion and even though I completely knew what that was my response was to ask her what it was. It was as if my mind was not connected to my mouth or there were a couple lines of thought going on and stupid was coming out of my mouth.
I was shaking violently, dry heaving/throwing up, and just looking pale and pathetic. C told me later he truly feared that I was going to die. Luckily I did not end up needing a blood transfusion and I recovered okay. It took me quite a while to feel normal again and that was a pain. I got to see Haylie a few hours later (by the way, she was born at 0024 on Wed March 26) and the rest of the time in the hospital was very simple and with no complications.
It took me the entire 6 weeks to really recover and get my abdominal strength back. I don't know if it was advisable to do the induction or if I would have had different labors if I had just waited. I do know that it was something that changed me forever and it is something I won't likely forget. Not only was it the worst couple of days/night of my life, it was one of the best days of my life. This was the toughest of my deliveries, so the next part will be much shorter. I just wanted to get this all written down before I completely forget the details. If you have read this, thank you for sticking with me. I hope it has enlightened you a little and I will be back with some more soon.
No comments:
Post a Comment