Saturday, September 29, 2012

Well then. That was one scary ride.

I didn't bother to write out a "birth story" for Sammi, because her's is as it should be  - short and to the point.

Not so much with Grant.

I barely slept Monday night. The nerves from knowing we were going to have  a baby on x day were killing me.  And it was all I could do not to puke everywhere Tuesday morning.

Traffic was terrible and we were late getting to the hospital.  Once we arrived (at 3 cm already) they started the pitocin and off we went. 

They increased that pitocin every.20.minutes.  until I was on the maxxed out dose.

I manage contractions just fine in general. It was uncomfortable, but doable.

But after nearly 8 hours of that I was still only at 3 cm.

The OB called and said he was "aggravated", which pissed me off and to go home and try again another day.  To which I replied No way in hell. I had just lived through 8 hours of massive pitocin. (Let me mention again how much I LOVE doctors that start throwing around hysterectomy in the midst of all this stuff.) Not going. Besides, I reminded him, I either carry on and *might* end up with the c-section or go home and wait and SURELY have c-section as the baby continued to grow.

My first nurse was awesome and told him I wasn't going anywhere. She would get an epidural and then get my water broken. 

I had high hopes as the epidural usually speeds things up for me.

By that time I was READY for it anyway.

Except it took more than 2 hours before I would get it.  2 hours of maxxed out pitocin contractions.

Finally get the epidural in and wait another 2 hours before my cervix was favorable enough to break the amniotic sac.

Break my water and keep waiting. And waiting.

By around midnight the OB is on the phone again saying I am not making enough change and he wants to just do the surgery. I reply again, NO. This has been utter hell. I have been puking everywhere. I have the worst headache of my life. I have not eaten in days. I have not slept in days.  I am progressing, just 1 cm an hour and that's plenty. Just wait I keep saying.

Except then Grant starts having decels with every contraction.

OB shows up around midnight and says you are complete anyway, let's get him out.

And the pushing begins.

And Grant is not moving from a minus 2 station at all.

So after an hour of pushing I say again, you have not waited long enough when he starts booking the OR (!).

He has not had time to descend.  My (much more timid nurse) says, let's try gravity.  And sits me up.  And I throw up again.

Except that time I was pretty sure that was the "stupid transition barf", which always comes right before my kids are born.

More pushing, more waiting. 18 hours of labor at this point.

At some point the meconium appears in the amniotic fluid.

OB starts to panic more and calls for the house doctor.

The lovely house doctor says he is sunny side up and not going to get under the pubic bone, but that there is plenty of room around his head in my pelvis and that he CAN fit  through there.  Use the damn forceps she says.

The OB prefers the vacuum.

The next thing I know, in the space of about 1 minute, I have gone from having a baby who is still not ready to come out to having a baby that has literally just been vacuumed out in the blink of an eye.

Now, if you are unfamiliar with this particular torture, lucky you. It's terrifying. It's beyond traumatic.

And I am hysterical.

(And injured in a million ways I won't get into on the internet.)

And Grant? Not looking so great either. Low apgar, needing intubation apparently and on and on. (Although what the hell did the expect with his apgar? They just RIPPED him out.)

But I was thinking, okay then! That's the worst of it.  He's out, and we can just get on with the quiet part of all this insanity.

But oh no. The insanity hadn't even really started yet.  They decide Grant has very low blood sugar and start poking and prodding him every hour.

Then around 5 am they say they are taking him to the nursery for something (I can't even remember what it was).  And I realize at about 7 am they have not returned my baby.  So I start demanding my baby. And the house ped and NOW.

I get Nurse Ratchet who tries to deflect and keeps carrying about how I have to pee or blah blah. And I keep telling her I don't give a shit about her needing me to pee I NEED MY BABY AND NOW.

Another hour goes by and they still have not returned the baby. (Who, btw, they are bottle feeding every 20 mins in their nursery, despite the fact that I breastfeed the kids.)

And I get louder and louder.

Another nurse comes in for something else and discovers me completely hysterical. Again. She immediately starts trying to figure out just what in the hell is going on and sends in a ped. Who I totally go off on.  They took Grant away for something small and now this guy is standing in front of me going down this list of crap they insist is going to kill the baby any moment now if he doesn't stay in special care. (For the record, NOTHING they were carrying on about was actually life threatening. And I knew that.  At some point in all the yelling the house ped realizes I might know what I am talking about when I Start demanding a CBC and he shuts up and backs off a bit.)

And so I just keep yelling at them to return my child NOW.

And I call my own ped who gets them on the phone to sort out what in the holy hell is going on.

Once my own ped is off the phone, super nurse manages to get him returned to me.

Of course, Grant starts to look much more stable once he is returned and super nurse tells them more than once that he should have been with me all the time. That everything they have been freaking out about would have been much more easily resolved had he been allowed kangaroo care and nursing.

And again I think, okay, down hill side. Down hill side.

But no.  Every two hours they decide something else is wrong with him. They just keep it up. And they are relentless.  This doctor and that doctor and on and on.  I can tell they are struggling to find a nurse who can *manage ME* when the shift change comes again.

Some of them clearly get that I am on edge, some of them don't seem to give a shit.

By the time I manage to get them to discharge us (which was another 8 hours of arguing), they have listed  no fewer than 10 things wrong with Grant.  Everything from *floppy* to some bizarre scalp issue to sacral dimple (which of course they wanted to start TESTING immediately never mind that Jackson has one too and it is NOT anything dangerous,) to tongue tied.

And me? TOTALLY TRAUMATIZED. I spent nearly 72 hours REALLY, REALLY fighting for my baby, in every way possible.

For now I am just supremely happy to be home and looking forward to the moment when this is all forgotten. Or at least a lot farther away in the rear view mirror.

P.S. My own ped saw us yesterday and said that the only thing *wrong* with the baby is that he has clogged tear ducts and he does have some floppiness, or low muscle tone.  He doesn't seem to think this will be a big issue in the long run and said we will just wait it out a bit and see what happens.  I think part of is that he is ONE VERY BIG boy (more like the size of an 8 weeker) and it's harder to move himself around. I also very firmly believe that being ripped out like that with no descent through the birth canal had to be physically traumatic for him. (It sure as hell was for me, ouch.) He was so active in the belly that the nurses kept saying they had never seen a monitor reading like that on a baby in labor before, so I know damn good and well he CAN move himself around.

P.P.S. Had I believed for a moment we were ever truly in danger I would have obviously just consented to the section.  This doctor just wanted to hurry. He had ZERO patience in the heat of the moment and I had that fear going in. It was time for yom kippur and not time to just wait on a baby. And no, I am not being snarky, I swear that is what was going on. He was not at all interested in what I was saying, and I have already had two kids. I sort of have a clue as to how my own body works in labor, you know?

Friday, September 28, 2012

Welcome to the world TBA

 After a long and scary week, we have a new baby.

Welcome to the world Grant Harrison.
You were indeed huge at 10 lbs 5 oz (with a 15 inch head). 

And it was all rather dramatic and I have much to say about it.

But for now we are adjusting to caring for two little people and one not so little person.

Back soon.

Monday, September 24, 2012

For just a minute

Popping in for just a minute.  I am starting to have CRAZY anxiety about this whole knowing we are going to the hospital tomorrow thing. It's less crazy making to have NO clue when the babies are coming I think.

In fact, I think I could throw up from the anxiety.


Anyway, I might be able to blog from my ipod, I might not.

If I can't sort it out I will surely be back here by the weekend with a new baby. (And probably two screaming older kids. Including one toddler who has NO clue what is coming.)

Wish me luck?

Goodness I am so damn nervous.


Thursday, September 20, 2012

Booger gate

Oh my word. REALLY BLOGGER? It's like a foreign land and I can hardly even sort out how to post.

The OB scheduled TBA's eviction this morning for next Tuesday morning. I had an induction with Jack, and while it was fine, I sure do wish this giant baby had decided it was time to come out without an induction. But whatever. At this point I need this baby OUT.

Five more days.

Anyhow, I have a whole booger gate story to tell you, but I am way too irritated about not even being able to find the publish button on this so called improved blogger.

Back when I am more relaxed I supposed.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Week 38

Hello week 38.

I am so over this pregnant thing.

And totally hoping that if I don't have a baby this week I can have an induction 7 days from now. (We are two days away from when the other kids have been born, but despite plenty of discomfort I am not feeling 2 days away from a baby.)

I pretty much can do nothing.

Other than sit here and wait.

At least the puking has stopped.

On a sillier note, I am like one day away from losing my belly button. Bizarre. That has never happened before. Hellllloooooo giant baby.

What's new with all of you?

Friday, September 14, 2012

Dear Baby

Dear baby,

Here we are likely less than two weeks before you make your big arrival.

Since the house is finally quiet today, I thought I would take a minute to write you a little note. I can tell already that as the third child some of the things that I have managed to do with Jack or Sam are going to end up falling by the wayside.

It's all still feeling a little bit surreal to me. I mean *we* are actually going to have a third baby!

Many, many years ago your Daddy and I met on the internet. He lived in Phoenix, me here in the 'Lou. We used to spend many hours just talking about everything, including what we thought our family would look like in the future.

That picture was always one with three little people in it.

We hit a few really scary bumps in the road which made it seem like that would never happen.

And yet, I never, ever let go of that dream. I held on to it very tightly. I stiffened my lip, I tightened my grip and I repeated every day the infamous words of Big Terry, "I am meaner*, and you are a wiener."

And here we are.

I am excited to meet you. To see if you look like your brother and sister. To start watching for little red hairs. To find out which personality you will be bringing to our family. (I had a little dream the other night and in it you were so very calm and laid back.) To watch your brother and sister fall in love with you. To snuggle those already chubby little cheeks and watch you learn to smile and laugh and dance and sing and play.

And yet, as always, a little bit nervous too. Can I juggle it all? Will the other little people be okay with all the changes?

It's been a wild ride here near the end. But I have not forgotten that you are the child I prayed for.

The child we love already.

It is my greatest wish that all of our children know that we brought them into our family with love and thought and joy. That we planned for you, and prepared for you, long before you were ever even a twinkle in our eyes. And that while we are all still a work in progress, we will always find a way to make it work.

I just know you are going to be a fantastic addition to our little herd.

Until I am able to nibble all your fingers and toes,

*Yesterday your brother was moaning about how mean your father is. Your father replied with "If you think I am mean, try being married to your mother." Which sounds horrible, but oh man it made me laugh. Not everyone can appreciate my take no prisoners attitude like your father can, but never underestimate the power and importance of that kind of attitude sometimes. Never mind that though, I am pretty sure each of you kids has been born with it in you already. ;-)

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Good bad and ugly

Good - TBA is back to head down (for now)

Bad - I called the ped nurse yesterday who confirmed that stomach flu is indeed rampaging the world.

Ugly - said flu lasts TWO WEEKS. And I am sick as hell again today. The nurse said it comes and goes, which it does, but it is FIERCE when it is here.

Even uglier? The OB is a bit concerned that this flu business is going to kick up labor even faster than it already seems to be coming. (Up at 3 with cramps and a backache wondering if I was about to have a baby.) I need this baby to stay in there 7 more days. Just 7 more days. Until this thing passes us.

Then I can have a baby and be on the other side of all of this.

That's not too much to ask, right?

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Send a priest

Or some missionaries? Or something? Please?

Let's see. By Sunday night Jack was down.

Just when I thought he was better on Tuesday morning Sammi started to puke AGAIN. (All over her bed and her room of course.)

Then last night? Me again.

Today? Dave is down and Sam is puking again.

I am so far beyond physically and emotionally exhausted.

Cannot carry on much longer.

For real.

Sunday, September 09, 2012

To add to the excitement

Sammi puked all over me on Friday night.

By 1 am last night I could not hold it back any longer. Up all night, throwing up, can't even tolerate sips of water.

Cannot believe this is happening right now.

Sure could use that light at the end of this damn tunnel.

Friday, September 07, 2012

Because I have nothing better to do.

Because I am wasting the days watching HGTV, I decided we should all petition HGTV to cut it out with the house hunters. We do not need 24-7 House Hunters, right?

Emailing falls on deaf ears, maybe this won't?

(Not sure their widget is going to work, direct link below)


Thursday, September 06, 2012

I could just cry

Ah well. Went to the OB this morning.

And now TBA is breech.

And I am already dilated 2 cm. Once that started with Sam it was a pretty quick road to a baby.

My gut keeps saying there is no way I am getting out of this without a c-section. Which means someone to take care of the kids for even longer, and then what? I dont have a lot of support and there will be all those weeks of not supposed to lift things and blah blah. I have a 24 lb diaper wearing toddler at home. How the hell am I going to pull that off?

I really want to cry.

And I REALLY need this baby to turn back to head down.

Just stay in there for 14 days and turn yourself around.

Oh yea, I had to take Sam to the ped yesterday.

And she has croup. And all she does is sob right now.

I need to be talked off the ledge.


*This* was a completely unexpected complication.

Lord give me strength.

And turn this baby the right fucking way around. Now preferably before my stupid water breaks and it's too late.

Tuesday, September 04, 2012

Guessing the weight of TBA

Wow. More than a week since I have been here, huh?

I went to a vow renewal ceremony over the weekend, which was wonderful. And perfect. And just exactly what I needed as I am about to embark on this three kids journey.
The kids got sick.

Sam is still sick. Pretty darn sick actually. I expect that any moment now she will have yet another ear infection.

The hurricane blew through. And just kept dropping tornadoes every two hours last Friday.

Which postponed my trip to the 61 mile yard sale. But I went anyway on Saturday. With the kids. And 9 months pregnant. And I bought ONE stinking thing. One.

Today we went to the hospital to get one last measurement of the giant baby to be. Look at those cheeks. LORDY that is one cute baby in there. (In case you need help with that pic, the baby is looking right at you, mouth open, hands under the chin.)

But also?

One very large baby.

Scary large.

Today is the first day of week 36 and they estimate the fetal weight TODAY at 8 lbs 15 oz.

I think I pooped myself.

I am measuring 40 weeks 4 days. And I feel every bit of it. I can hardly walk, I never sleep, I have pains everywhere.

And they are starting to talk about all the scary stuff - amnios, inductions, c-sections.

Jack and Sam were both born at 38 weeks, 2 days. One via induction and one that just came.

I am meeting with the OB on Thursday to start discussing what happens now.

In the meantime, maybe you could all do a happy dance, send up a hope and prayer that TBA decides it is just time to come out sometime in the next 16 days? All that talk really scares the crap out of me. This is already my most anxious time with the kids - that moment when I have to stare down those infertility demons and get my head around having a real, live baby. I really don't need it to be any scarier.

I just need to get to the finish line.

And apparently soon.