So far so good. The dogs were more calm that I had expected and the baby was sleeping. I took this time to empty out the hospital bag and see how much formula and diapers I had. I had bought diapers throughout my pregnancy but I hadn't bought any formula because I didn't know which kind he would need. I samples of a couple different kinds and everything I brought home from the hospital would probably last me for 4 or 5 days.
Then he woke up. Crying. I knew it was probably time to feed him so I gave him a bottle. I had gotten the hang of it and he was eating well. Only about 2oz for now. Then I changed his diaper, being careful of the umbilical cord and the wound on his little wee. I realized that he hated having his diaper changed. He screamed so loud. I thought that it was probably because of the circumcision so I hoped that it would heal quickly. I hated the thought that he might be in pain. This was the first noise of a real baby that the dogs had heard and I could hear them whining and moving about, wondering what this little alien being was doing. They even barked a few times but I didn't stop them. I wanted the baby to be familiar with the doggie sounds just as much as I wanted the dogs to be familiar with baby sounds. So once he was fed, clean and dry, I held him. I didn't want to put him down. I held him and looked at him. I was his mommy. He didn't cry. he was content.
For me though, I was in a lot of pain downstairs. My milk hadn't come in yet. I thought it should have by now so I thought maybe it would never come in and I wouldn't have to deal with that pain. But the other pain was enough to handle for the moment. I dreaded having to get up and I dreaded going to the bathroom even more. The hospital gave me a little squeeze bottle which I was to use with warm water every time I went. My friend had just given birth 3 months before me and she said she never used the water bottle after she got home. I brought mine to the bathroom just in case. I used it and it was the best thing in the world. So soothing. I vowed that I would use that water bottle every chance I got until I was healed. This was worse than the contractions, the labor and the delivery combined. I had such a positive experience with the labor and delivery that I wanted to have another baby right away. But now that I was dealing with the aftermath, I wasn't so sure. Why doesn't anyone ever tell you that the stitches, not the contractions, are the worst part?
I fed and changed the baby a few more times that day. I wanted to do it myself and my husband was glad to let me. He was a little scared of handling such a small baby. But I was almost territorial. I had never cared for a newborn but all of a sudden I was an expert and I knew how I wanted things done. I would have to get over that pretty quickly but I felt like I was entitled to feel this way at the moment.
There were no visitors on this first day back home and I was grateful. I was in a state of exhaustion/bliss all at once, just being there with my family.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
We're going home...
We were finally going to be leaving the hospital. My son was discharged first and then when the doctor came in to see me, I was discharged. I had to wait for my husband to get out of work to pick me up. I was so anxious I couldn't stand it.
While I waited, a woman came in and took newborn pictures of the baby. They take a bunch and then I was supposed to choose. I really couldn't decide anything right then and there so I didn't order and thought I would do it later.
I had to fill out some forms, including his birth certificate information and social security info. There is something very surreal about writing your own name in the 'Mother's Name' field. I was a mom. I still felt like I was just out of high school though I was many years from that point. I didn't feel like a mom. But here I was with a child.
Then I got the baby dressed in his going home outfit. I just wanted to squeeze him as hard as I could because he was just so cute. He cried a little and I couldn't help but laugh because it was just so wonderful. I was sure that I wouldn't be smiling at the crying after a while but for now it was precious.
At the hospital, you are supposed to bring the car seat up to the room so they can be sure that you have one. My husband finally arrived. It took him so long because he had to stop at his brother's to have the car seat base put in. Those things are very difficult if you don't know what you are doing. This is the thing that must have been nagging at the back of my head. I had thought that I had everything ready but apparently I had missed this.
So we put the baby in the car seat. I was wheeled down to the car and we drove off, my husband, me and my son.
When we got home, the baby was sleeping. I greeted my dogs who hadn't seen me in a couple of days. Once they were calm, I gated them out of the room. I was nervous about how they would react to being kicked out but they were fine. They just snoozed in the kitchen. I took my son out of the car seat, still sleeping. My husband and I looked at each other and both said, "What do we do now?"
While I waited, a woman came in and took newborn pictures of the baby. They take a bunch and then I was supposed to choose. I really couldn't decide anything right then and there so I didn't order and thought I would do it later.
I had to fill out some forms, including his birth certificate information and social security info. There is something very surreal about writing your own name in the 'Mother's Name' field. I was a mom. I still felt like I was just out of high school though I was many years from that point. I didn't feel like a mom. But here I was with a child.
Then I got the baby dressed in his going home outfit. I just wanted to squeeze him as hard as I could because he was just so cute. He cried a little and I couldn't help but laugh because it was just so wonderful. I was sure that I wouldn't be smiling at the crying after a while but for now it was precious.
At the hospital, you are supposed to bring the car seat up to the room so they can be sure that you have one. My husband finally arrived. It took him so long because he had to stop at his brother's to have the car seat base put in. Those things are very difficult if you don't know what you are doing. This is the thing that must have been nagging at the back of my head. I had thought that I had everything ready but apparently I had missed this.
So we put the baby in the car seat. I was wheeled down to the car and we drove off, my husband, me and my son.
When we got home, the baby was sleeping. I greeted my dogs who hadn't seen me in a couple of days. Once they were calm, I gated them out of the room. I was nervous about how they would react to being kicked out but they were fine. They just snoozed in the kitchen. I took my son out of the car seat, still sleeping. My husband and I looked at each other and both said, "What do we do now?"
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
This is gonna be hard...
During that second day in the hospital, I was struck by the thought that this was going to be a lot harder than I expected. I knew caring for a newborn was going to be hard and that I was going to be tired but I was just exhausted. I was recovering from childbirth and trying to take care of the baby by myself. My husband was working. I didn't want him to waste vacation days sitting at the hospital. I would rather him be off when we were back home. I could have had the nurse take the baby to the nursery but I was so emotional that I didn't want him to be away from me.
It hurt to do everything but I had to do it. I had a little person that was relying on me to comfort him when he was upset, feed him when he was hungry and change him when he was wet or poopy. His needs couldn't wait until I felt better. I just had to do it. It reminded me of a saying that mom's don't get sick days.
I showered while he slept. I made my phone calls - to my co-workers, friends, insurance company, disability company, peditrician, etc. I watched shows about baby care that were provided on the hospital TV set. And even though I was so tired, I didn't nap at all. I was too wired from the whole experience.
My blood sugar had been checked constantly and everything was back to normal. I could eat regular foods. I was afraid that I would go overboard and eat everything I couldn't while I was pregnant and gain more weight. I had lost about 12 pounds right away because of the weight of the baby, the placenta and all of the fluids. I was amazed that I still looked pregnant. I guess that is normal and it takes some time for the belly to go down. And I was determined to not eat too much pasta and sweets to make it harder for me to lose the rest of the weight.
The baby's sugars were normal too so they no longer had to check his blood every time he ate. I was relieved. I hated that he was getting poked and prodded, like that was his welcome to life.
This would be my last night at the hospital. Everyone had been so nice so my mother-in-law brought in 3 huge cookie platters for each shift. She had worked as a labor and delivery nurse at that hospital for many years and still knew a lot of the nurses. She knew they would appreciate it.
As the day turned into night, I had my son taken to the nursery. I settled in for my last night at the hospital and wouldn't you know it, I couldn't sleep. I was consumed with thoughts of how home life would be with this baby that I had already fallen in love with. I couldn't wait to get home and start my life with my newly expanded family.
It hurt to do everything but I had to do it. I had a little person that was relying on me to comfort him when he was upset, feed him when he was hungry and change him when he was wet or poopy. His needs couldn't wait until I felt better. I just had to do it. It reminded me of a saying that mom's don't get sick days.
I showered while he slept. I made my phone calls - to my co-workers, friends, insurance company, disability company, peditrician, etc. I watched shows about baby care that were provided on the hospital TV set. And even though I was so tired, I didn't nap at all. I was too wired from the whole experience.
My blood sugar had been checked constantly and everything was back to normal. I could eat regular foods. I was afraid that I would go overboard and eat everything I couldn't while I was pregnant and gain more weight. I had lost about 12 pounds right away because of the weight of the baby, the placenta and all of the fluids. I was amazed that I still looked pregnant. I guess that is normal and it takes some time for the belly to go down. And I was determined to not eat too much pasta and sweets to make it harder for me to lose the rest of the weight.
The baby's sugars were normal too so they no longer had to check his blood every time he ate. I was relieved. I hated that he was getting poked and prodded, like that was his welcome to life.
This would be my last night at the hospital. Everyone had been so nice so my mother-in-law brought in 3 huge cookie platters for each shift. She had worked as a labor and delivery nurse at that hospital for many years and still knew a lot of the nurses. She knew they would appreciate it.
As the day turned into night, I had my son taken to the nursery. I settled in for my last night at the hospital and wouldn't you know it, I couldn't sleep. I was consumed with thoughts of how home life would be with this baby that I had already fallen in love with. I couldn't wait to get home and start my life with my newly expanded family.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Second day...
I woke up early the second day and called the nursery right away. I wanted them to bring my son in to me. But they told me that the doctor was going to be coming in to check on him soon and then he would be circumcized. They would bring him to me afterwards. After what seemed like an eternity, they wheeled him into my room. They showed me his little book where they kept track of his wet and dirty diapers, when he ate and how much, etc. They showed me how to change his diaper and take care of the circumcision wound. Then they left me with him.
I was alone with him and didn't really know what to do. I was still very sore and was supposed to be getting up to walk around as much as possible. So we just hung out in my room. We had more visitors and everyone got to hold the baby.
He didn't cry much but when he did it was the most heartbreaking and wonderful sound. Heartbreaking because he sounded so sad. Wonderful because it was just so funny. I couldn't help laughing at him when he cried because it was so high pitched and tiny.
Another thing that he did was make a little 'O' with his mouth. It was almost a permanent expression on his tiny little face. So cute.
He looked much better today. He skin was pink and his lips and nails didn't look so dark in contrast. We had him bundled up in the hospital blanket and I learned how to swaddle him.
When he was with me, he was in one of those wheeled bassinets. There is a drawer stocked with supplies and all of the nurses told me to take whatever I could every time it was in my room. They would re-stock it when I returned him to the nursery. So I stashed all of the petroleum jelly, gauze pads, pre-mixed formula, diapers. I thought for sure I would be set for a couple of weeks with all of the stuff we took. I felt like I was at a hotel and snatching all of the samples.
The hospital was pretty boring but I liked it best when there were no visitors and I was alone with the baby. Sometimes I would sit and watch TV and he would be sleeping in his bassinet. I was afraid to hold him all the time because I didn't want to spoil him. I didn't find out until a week later that you can't spoil a newborn and can hold them as long as you or he wants. But I let him sleep on his own for a while. When I couldn't stand it anymore, I decided to make my move and get him. But I was in so much pain. So I just sat up as much as possible, wheeled the cart over to the side of the bed. I reached in and grabbed a big handful of blanket with one hand and lifted him out. It felt very primal. You know, how a mother cat grabs the baby kitten by the scruff of the neck. Well I didn't grab the scruff but that is how it felt. I probably would have been yelled at if someone saw me do it. But he was so wrapped up that I was able to lift him in one big bundle. Then we cuddled and I never wanted that moment to end.
I was alone with him and didn't really know what to do. I was still very sore and was supposed to be getting up to walk around as much as possible. So we just hung out in my room. We had more visitors and everyone got to hold the baby.
He didn't cry much but when he did it was the most heartbreaking and wonderful sound. Heartbreaking because he sounded so sad. Wonderful because it was just so funny. I couldn't help laughing at him when he cried because it was so high pitched and tiny.
Another thing that he did was make a little 'O' with his mouth. It was almost a permanent expression on his tiny little face. So cute.
He looked much better today. He skin was pink and his lips and nails didn't look so dark in contrast. We had him bundled up in the hospital blanket and I learned how to swaddle him.
When he was with me, he was in one of those wheeled bassinets. There is a drawer stocked with supplies and all of the nurses told me to take whatever I could every time it was in my room. They would re-stock it when I returned him to the nursery. So I stashed all of the petroleum jelly, gauze pads, pre-mixed formula, diapers. I thought for sure I would be set for a couple of weeks with all of the stuff we took. I felt like I was at a hotel and snatching all of the samples.
The hospital was pretty boring but I liked it best when there were no visitors and I was alone with the baby. Sometimes I would sit and watch TV and he would be sleeping in his bassinet. I was afraid to hold him all the time because I didn't want to spoil him. I didn't find out until a week later that you can't spoil a newborn and can hold them as long as you or he wants. But I let him sleep on his own for a while. When I couldn't stand it anymore, I decided to make my move and get him. But I was in so much pain. So I just sat up as much as possible, wheeled the cart over to the side of the bed. I reached in and grabbed a big handful of blanket with one hand and lifted him out. It felt very primal. You know, how a mother cat grabs the baby kitten by the scruff of the neck. Well I didn't grab the scruff but that is how it felt. I probably would have been yelled at if someone saw me do it. But he was so wrapped up that I was able to lift him in one big bundle. Then we cuddled and I never wanted that moment to end.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Why am I so sore...
As I settled into my room for the night, I realized that I was sore. I knew that I would hurt in the obvious places but I wasn't expecting to feel like I had worked out for the first time in a year. My muscles hurt. My face felt like I had been beaten. My stitches hurt more than I could have imagined.
I guess it makes sense that pushing a baby out would make your muscles sore. You are tensed and straining with every ounce of energy you have. And then you are straining and pushing with energy that you don't have. Giving birth was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. At first I had a lot of energy to push but then after a couple of minutes, I was running on pure adrenaline. If I wasn't, the baby would still be in. But anyway, I felt like I had run a marathon.
My face was as puffy as the baby's when he was born. The straining of my face during the pushing did a number on me. My eyes were bloodshot and I had dark circles under my eyes. I felt like I had gotten into a fight.
And the stitches. Oh why didn't anyone tell me that the stitches would hurt more than the labor and the delivery? I had to keep calling for ice packs because that was the only thing that gave me any relief. It hurt immensely to move my position in the bed. And getting up to go to the bathroom was torture. And the doctors and nurses had to keep checking on the stitches. Maybe it would be less painful the next day. I wasn't so certain of that.
And my baby wasn't with me. He was in the nursery. I could have kept him in the room with me but I was in so much pain that I thought the nurses would be able to take care of him more easily. And then I felt guilty. But I knew he was in good hands and I needed to get some sleep.
Getting sleep was out of the question too. I must have been woken up in the middle of the night four or five times so I could get weighed, my blood pressure taken, my stitches looked at, my temperature taken. And then I couldn't really sleep anyway.
I couldn't wait for it to be morning so I could get my son. My son. It was still strange to think in terms of me having a son. Surreal but magical.
I guess it makes sense that pushing a baby out would make your muscles sore. You are tensed and straining with every ounce of energy you have. And then you are straining and pushing with energy that you don't have. Giving birth was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. At first I had a lot of energy to push but then after a couple of minutes, I was running on pure adrenaline. If I wasn't, the baby would still be in. But anyway, I felt like I had run a marathon.
My face was as puffy as the baby's when he was born. The straining of my face during the pushing did a number on me. My eyes were bloodshot and I had dark circles under my eyes. I felt like I had gotten into a fight.
And the stitches. Oh why didn't anyone tell me that the stitches would hurt more than the labor and the delivery? I had to keep calling for ice packs because that was the only thing that gave me any relief. It hurt immensely to move my position in the bed. And getting up to go to the bathroom was torture. And the doctors and nurses had to keep checking on the stitches. Maybe it would be less painful the next day. I wasn't so certain of that.
And my baby wasn't with me. He was in the nursery. I could have kept him in the room with me but I was in so much pain that I thought the nurses would be able to take care of him more easily. And then I felt guilty. But I knew he was in good hands and I needed to get some sleep.
Getting sleep was out of the question too. I must have been woken up in the middle of the night four or five times so I could get weighed, my blood pressure taken, my stitches looked at, my temperature taken. And then I couldn't really sleep anyway.
I couldn't wait for it to be morning so I could get my son. My son. It was still strange to think in terms of me having a son. Surreal but magical.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
First night at the hospital...
My family had left me alone to rest. My son was in the nursery getting his temperature up. My friends had visited and then gone. I was alone. It felt strange to be alone because I hadn't been alone for 9 months. I had been afraid I would feel empty but I didn't. I just wanted my baby so I could look at him and hold him and transfer my love to him.
Eventually they brought him in. Because I had gestational diabetes, they had to test his blood sugar when he was born. He had a little band-aid on one of his heels where they took the blood. His sugar had been low so they had given him a bottle of sugar water. I didn't know that until after the fact which is probably good because I probably would have freaked out if I had known that his sugar was low. But he was fine. He was still puffy but he had a little bit more color. I couldn't believe how pasty and white he had been when he was born.
I held him as he slept. He opened his eyes slightly a couple of times but apparently being born is extremely exhausting. And I was grateful that we were able to just rest together.
He was so tiny - 6lbs, 8oz. And bundled up in his blanket made him seem even smaller. He had a little hat on his head and a teeny little diaper. He had already been changed at the nursery so I didn't have to do it. I wanted to feed him but they had to take his blood sugar first. They took him away again and brought him back shortly. I had to formula feed so they brought a bunch of pre-mixed formula bottles and I tried to feed him. He didn't seem to want it. I tried and tried and but he wouldn't take more than a little bit. The nurse had told me to call if he hadn't finished within a 1/2 hour. So I called and they got him to eat the rest. They seemed so rough with him, shoving the bottle into his mouth and jerking it around. But it got him to eat. I felt pretty disappointed. Like I failed at my first attempt to be a mom. Why wouldn't he eat with me but with a nurse who was a stranger? I decided that I was going to copy what she had done the next time I fed him.
Then they took him away again to test his blood. My husband and parents arrived. My in-laws came too. My father-in-law brought a box of assorted chocolates. In fact, everyone brought some sort of sweet thing because I couldn't eat any of it while I was pregnant. I ate 3 or 4 chocolates right away. They were sooooo good. Then a nurse came in and said she had to test my blood. And I had just eaten so much sugar. Unbelievably, my blood tested normal. The specialist had told me that once the placenta was out, my blood sugar should be fine. I didn't realize that I would be back to normal so soon though.
They all took turns holding the baby. We visited for a while and then they all left. They took the baby back to the nursery for the night and I was alone again. I felt like I had only spent a little time with the baby and that made me sad. But I settled in and watched a little TV and tried to fall asleep knowing that I would be able to spend the entire day with him tomorrow.
Eventually they brought him in. Because I had gestational diabetes, they had to test his blood sugar when he was born. He had a little band-aid on one of his heels where they took the blood. His sugar had been low so they had given him a bottle of sugar water. I didn't know that until after the fact which is probably good because I probably would have freaked out if I had known that his sugar was low. But he was fine. He was still puffy but he had a little bit more color. I couldn't believe how pasty and white he had been when he was born.
I held him as he slept. He opened his eyes slightly a couple of times but apparently being born is extremely exhausting. And I was grateful that we were able to just rest together.
He was so tiny - 6lbs, 8oz. And bundled up in his blanket made him seem even smaller. He had a little hat on his head and a teeny little diaper. He had already been changed at the nursery so I didn't have to do it. I wanted to feed him but they had to take his blood sugar first. They took him away again and brought him back shortly. I had to formula feed so they brought a bunch of pre-mixed formula bottles and I tried to feed him. He didn't seem to want it. I tried and tried and but he wouldn't take more than a little bit. The nurse had told me to call if he hadn't finished within a 1/2 hour. So I called and they got him to eat the rest. They seemed so rough with him, shoving the bottle into his mouth and jerking it around. But it got him to eat. I felt pretty disappointed. Like I failed at my first attempt to be a mom. Why wouldn't he eat with me but with a nurse who was a stranger? I decided that I was going to copy what she had done the next time I fed him.
Then they took him away again to test his blood. My husband and parents arrived. My in-laws came too. My father-in-law brought a box of assorted chocolates. In fact, everyone brought some sort of sweet thing because I couldn't eat any of it while I was pregnant. I ate 3 or 4 chocolates right away. They were sooooo good. Then a nurse came in and said she had to test my blood. And I had just eaten so much sugar. Unbelievably, my blood tested normal. The specialist had told me that once the placenta was out, my blood sugar should be fine. I didn't realize that I would be back to normal so soon though.
They all took turns holding the baby. We visited for a while and then they all left. They took the baby back to the nursery for the night and I was alone again. I felt like I had only spent a little time with the baby and that made me sad. But I settled in and watched a little TV and tried to fall asleep knowing that I would be able to spend the entire day with him tomorrow.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Recovery...
The baby was allowed to stay in the delivery room for about 2 hours. My parents and mother-in-law stayed for a while and held the baby. Then they left me and my husband alone with our son. I wanted to just stare at him because I was afraid that when they took him away I wouldn't be able to recognize him later. All newborns look alike to me. But he was different. I was sure I would be able to pick him out of a line-up.
We sat for a while. I was still so hungry but I didn't want to eat anymore. I had already eaten so much food that I was sure I wasn't thinking clearly and didn't want to make myself sick. My legs were still very heavy and the epiduarl hadn't worn off just yet. I was supposed to stay in this room until it wore off because I couldn't get out of bed.
Eventually the nurse came and took the baby. He was going to the nursery to get cleaned up, warmed, etc. The adrenaline was finally starting to wear off and I was getting tired. I told my husband to go home and spend time with the dogs and come back later. He was exhausted and kept telling me he was. I wanted to shout that I had just given birth to a baby so I am the one who should be exhausted. But I didn't. He didn't mean anything by it. So he left and I was alone.
The nurse came in and I asked her if she was going to remove the catheter. She smiled and told me it had been removed before I started pushing. I wondered how I could have possibly missed that.
My legs started to get feeling back and I thought I could try to get up. I was a little wobbly but I could stand and walk with her assistance. She took me to the bathroom and told me to try to go. They put a cup in the toilet because they need to measure the amount of urine that is produced. I tried to go but I couldn't manage very much. When I got up, I was shocked at the amount of blood that was everywhere. It was all over the bathroom. I panicked but she said it was normal. Then I was told that I could take a shower. I didn't want to. I just wanted to get into bed and lay there. But as soon as I got in, it felt so good that I didn't want to leave. There was a little bench in there and I just sat in the hot, cleansing water. I felt very groggy. Like I had just been awake for three days straight.
I got out of the shower and put on the pad and elastic underwear that the hospital provided. They also gave me an ice pack that was supposed to help with the stitches. I wanted to clean up the bathroom but they told me to leave it. I was put in a wheel chair and wheeled up to my room with all of my stuff. A couple of my friends saw me enroute and followed me up to the room. We visited for a while and even though I was exhausted, I didn't think I could sleep.
I wanted my baby so I called the nursery. They told me they were still getting him settled but would bring him in as soon as they were done. I had waited nine months for this, I guess I could wait a few more minutes so they could make sure he was ok.
We sat for a while. I was still so hungry but I didn't want to eat anymore. I had already eaten so much food that I was sure I wasn't thinking clearly and didn't want to make myself sick. My legs were still very heavy and the epiduarl hadn't worn off just yet. I was supposed to stay in this room until it wore off because I couldn't get out of bed.
Eventually the nurse came and took the baby. He was going to the nursery to get cleaned up, warmed, etc. The adrenaline was finally starting to wear off and I was getting tired. I told my husband to go home and spend time with the dogs and come back later. He was exhausted and kept telling me he was. I wanted to shout that I had just given birth to a baby so I am the one who should be exhausted. But I didn't. He didn't mean anything by it. So he left and I was alone.
The nurse came in and I asked her if she was going to remove the catheter. She smiled and told me it had been removed before I started pushing. I wondered how I could have possibly missed that.
My legs started to get feeling back and I thought I could try to get up. I was a little wobbly but I could stand and walk with her assistance. She took me to the bathroom and told me to try to go. They put a cup in the toilet because they need to measure the amount of urine that is produced. I tried to go but I couldn't manage very much. When I got up, I was shocked at the amount of blood that was everywhere. It was all over the bathroom. I panicked but she said it was normal. Then I was told that I could take a shower. I didn't want to. I just wanted to get into bed and lay there. But as soon as I got in, it felt so good that I didn't want to leave. There was a little bench in there and I just sat in the hot, cleansing water. I felt very groggy. Like I had just been awake for three days straight.
I got out of the shower and put on the pad and elastic underwear that the hospital provided. They also gave me an ice pack that was supposed to help with the stitches. I wanted to clean up the bathroom but they told me to leave it. I was put in a wheel chair and wheeled up to my room with all of my stuff. A couple of my friends saw me enroute and followed me up to the room. We visited for a while and even though I was exhausted, I didn't think I could sleep.
I wanted my baby so I called the nursery. They told me they were still getting him settled but would bring him in as soon as they were done. I had waited nine months for this, I guess I could wait a few more minutes so they could make sure he was ok.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
I thought I was done...
He was out! And he was alive and well. They took him right away to one of the little tables they had set up. They wiped him down and did a bunch of other things too. I couldn't really see everything but I could hear this tiny little cry and knew he was ok. They brought him to me briefly and I held him for just a moment. I thought I was done but I wasn't. There was the afterbirth to deal with. I didn't have to do anything to deliver the placenta. It just came out, all in one piece. A relative of mine had some major problems and hemorrhaging because part of the placenta had broken off. I can't believe I remembered that at the time but I asked if it had all come out and was assured that it had.
Then the doctor had to stitch me up. I swear it felt like it took longer to stitch than it did to push. I had only pushed for about 52 minutes and the stitches took about 30 minutes. I just wanted to be done already so I could hold me baby.
My son was born. It was a truly miraculous event. If you haven't been through it before, it is hard to imagine the emotions that run through you. I was relieved that he was out and I didn't have to push anymore. I was relieved that he had cried. I was relieved that he was ok and they didn't have to rush him out to the NICU. I was happy that my husband made it through without passing out. I was also very hungry and just exhausted.
As soon as they were done stitching me and cleaning up the room, my parents and my mother-in-law were brought in. My father-in-law was still on the golf course because no one expected the labor to go that quickly. From start to finish I was in labor for just under 7 and 1/2 hours. I wanted to hold the baby but I was just too hungry. I was shaky and felt like I was going to pass out. They brought me some food and I let the proud grandparents bond with their grandson while I shoved graham crackers and a turkey sandwich in my mouth.
When I did finally get to hold him and just be with him, I was shocked by his appearance. He had a cone head, of course. But the cone was very lopsided. I guess that was a result of him not coming out facing the right way. He was also very pasty white but his eyes and fingernails were bright red. His little face was very puffy. Again from the way he came out. But he was mine and he was beautiful. It is the most surreal feeling. This little tiny person had just lived in my body for 40 weeks and now he was in the world, completely helpless and dependent on me and my husband. The weight of the responsibility is overwhelming. But I was so happy to start this journey and to give him my whole heart.
Then the doctor had to stitch me up. I swear it felt like it took longer to stitch than it did to push. I had only pushed for about 52 minutes and the stitches took about 30 minutes. I just wanted to be done already so I could hold me baby.
My son was born. It was a truly miraculous event. If you haven't been through it before, it is hard to imagine the emotions that run through you. I was relieved that he was out and I didn't have to push anymore. I was relieved that he had cried. I was relieved that he was ok and they didn't have to rush him out to the NICU. I was happy that my husband made it through without passing out. I was also very hungry and just exhausted.
As soon as they were done stitching me and cleaning up the room, my parents and my mother-in-law were brought in. My father-in-law was still on the golf course because no one expected the labor to go that quickly. From start to finish I was in labor for just under 7 and 1/2 hours. I wanted to hold the baby but I was just too hungry. I was shaky and felt like I was going to pass out. They brought me some food and I let the proud grandparents bond with their grandson while I shoved graham crackers and a turkey sandwich in my mouth.
When I did finally get to hold him and just be with him, I was shocked by his appearance. He had a cone head, of course. But the cone was very lopsided. I guess that was a result of him not coming out facing the right way. He was also very pasty white but his eyes and fingernails were bright red. His little face was very puffy. Again from the way he came out. But he was mine and he was beautiful. It is the most surreal feeling. This little tiny person had just lived in my body for 40 weeks and now he was in the world, completely helpless and dependent on me and my husband. The weight of the responsibility is overwhelming. But I was so happy to start this journey and to give him my whole heart.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Ready or not...
Ready or not, I had to start pushing. I had my husband on my left side and a nurse on my right. The doctor was there, an intern and a couple other nurses. I was told to push a little. The baby was not facing in the right direction. I could barely feel the contractions. The pain I had felt was more from the pressure than from the contractions. But I was supposed to push when the contractions came. I did this for abuot 20 minutes, not pushing hard. They were trying to turn the baby so he came out the right way. It didn't hurt but it was annoying because all I wanted to do was push him out. I wanted to meet him finally.
They got him turned around somewhat and I was able to start pushing for real. This task was so much more difficult than I could have imagined. I don't know if it was because of the epidural or not but I had no idea what I was doing. I pushing as hard as I could but it felt like all I was pushing was my face. I couldn't tell if I was pushing the baby out. I kept asking if I was doing it right and they were all very encouraging and letting me know that I was doing just fine.
I pushed with every contraction. At first I they had to tell me when to push because I couldn't tell. Eventually I started to feel when I needed to push so that was better. I felt liquids coming out. Most women are afraid of pooping on the table but I wasn't scared. I told my husband that I probably would so not to be shocked. But with everything going on down there, I had no idea if I had or hadn't. I don't know what the liquids were but I figured it was normal because no one was freaking out.
And my husband didn't even want to be in the room for the delivery in the first place. He has a really weak stomach when it comes to this type of thing. Also one of the reasons he wouldn't go to childbirth classes. He was afraid that he would get sick or pass out. If your significant other is like this, let the nurses know. They were good about asking him how he was doing and getting orange juice for him so he didn't pass out. But he was there, he just wasn't going to look.
To push, you need a lot of leverage. That is why you see people holding the mom's feet. My husband held one foot and a nurse held the other. I pushed and pushed and pushed. At some point my husband looked. I was surprised but happy that he was still standing after he got a peek. But then he couldn't look away. He said it was the most unbelievable thing he has ever seen. You can see the head crowning but then it goes back in until you have another contraction and push again.
This went on for what seemed like hours. Then I was told that they had to do an episiotomy. I didn't care then but I regretted it afterward. So they cut and I pushed. I wish the nurses would have counted to 10 or something because then I would have had a goal when I was pushing. Instead they were like cheerleaders, telling me to push a little more, a little more, a little more. You're doing great, just a little more. Deep breath and push. Keep going, you can do it. I think that if they had just counted, I could have kept up. I didn't even think to ask them to do this at the time. I will have to remember that for next time.
Then the moment I had waited nine months for. His head was out. I was told to just push a little bit more and he was completely out. He was born. There was a period of time for about 10 minutes when he didn't cry and I was so scared. Turns out it was only for about 30 seconds but it felt like forever. The clamped the cord and gave the scissors to my husband. I couldn't believe he was going to cut the cord. But he did and I was happy. It seemed like immediately as the cord was being cut, my son took his first breaths and cried. Such a sweet and welcomed sound!
They got him turned around somewhat and I was able to start pushing for real. This task was so much more difficult than I could have imagined. I don't know if it was because of the epidural or not but I had no idea what I was doing. I pushing as hard as I could but it felt like all I was pushing was my face. I couldn't tell if I was pushing the baby out. I kept asking if I was doing it right and they were all very encouraging and letting me know that I was doing just fine.
I pushed with every contraction. At first I they had to tell me when to push because I couldn't tell. Eventually I started to feel when I needed to push so that was better. I felt liquids coming out. Most women are afraid of pooping on the table but I wasn't scared. I told my husband that I probably would so not to be shocked. But with everything going on down there, I had no idea if I had or hadn't. I don't know what the liquids were but I figured it was normal because no one was freaking out.
And my husband didn't even want to be in the room for the delivery in the first place. He has a really weak stomach when it comes to this type of thing. Also one of the reasons he wouldn't go to childbirth classes. He was afraid that he would get sick or pass out. If your significant other is like this, let the nurses know. They were good about asking him how he was doing and getting orange juice for him so he didn't pass out. But he was there, he just wasn't going to look.
To push, you need a lot of leverage. That is why you see people holding the mom's feet. My husband held one foot and a nurse held the other. I pushed and pushed and pushed. At some point my husband looked. I was surprised but happy that he was still standing after he got a peek. But then he couldn't look away. He said it was the most unbelievable thing he has ever seen. You can see the head crowning but then it goes back in until you have another contraction and push again.
This went on for what seemed like hours. Then I was told that they had to do an episiotomy. I didn't care then but I regretted it afterward. So they cut and I pushed. I wish the nurses would have counted to 10 or something because then I would have had a goal when I was pushing. Instead they were like cheerleaders, telling me to push a little more, a little more, a little more. You're doing great, just a little more. Deep breath and push. Keep going, you can do it. I think that if they had just counted, I could have kept up. I didn't even think to ask them to do this at the time. I will have to remember that for next time.
Then the moment I had waited nine months for. His head was out. I was told to just push a little bit more and he was completely out. He was born. There was a period of time for about 10 minutes when he didn't cry and I was so scared. Turns out it was only for about 30 seconds but it felt like forever. The clamped the cord and gave the scissors to my husband. I couldn't believe he was going to cut the cord. But he did and I was happy. It seemed like immediately as the cord was being cut, my son took his first breaths and cried. Such a sweet and welcomed sound!
Friday, July 18, 2008
It didn't work...
I was laying in the bed on my left side. The epidural was in and I was pain free. I tried to rest but it really is impossible when people are walking in all the time. My mother-in-law arrived at the hospital. My father-in-law decided to wait out my labor on the golf course. My parents and mother-in-law decided to wait in the waiting room so we could be alone.
Very slowly I started to feel my contractions again. I remembered what they said about the epidural and thought that the medicine was flowing to one side. I rolled onto my back so I was more centered and the medicine could be more evenly distributed. It helped for a while but soon I was feeling the painful contractions. I called the nurse in and told her that the epidural wasn't working. My contractions had slowed down so I wasn't in constant pain but I still wanted it to work. She gave me a little more medicine and I settled back in to wait.
The increased medicine worked for maybe 15 minutes. Then I was in pain again. And this time it was more in my bottom area. I didn't call the nurse right away because I figured she would be back in my room in a second anyway. But it took a bit longer for her to reappear. When she did come in, I told her that I was still feeling pain. Before she increased my medicine again she wanted the doctor to check me. I guess to make sure I wasn't too far into labor to give me more. I had been at 4cm about 2 hours before.
I waited a few more minutes for the doctor. It wasn't my regular doctor who checked me because my doctor was in surgery with a c-section. When the doctor did the exam, he announced that I was 10cm and needed to start pushing.
Needless to say, I was in shock. And I wasn't ready. I figured I had several more hours to get mentally and emotionally prepared to start pushing. I kept saying, "I'm not ready yet" over and over.
Because my doctor was in surgery, they decided that the baby's heartrate was fine and that I could wait until she was done. She had been paged so she knew I was ready when she was. Another 10 minutes rolled by and she called and said to go ahead and start pushing because she was going to be longer than expected.
Meanwhile my parents and mother-in-law just got back to the waiting room from the cafeteria. My husband ran out and told them I was going to start pushing and that they had to stay out. I only wanted my husband in the room with me but I regret not being able to see my mother before I started pushing.
Another OBGYN from my doctor's office was at the hospital at the time. I had seen her for several of my prenatal visits and I loved her. So I was happy that she would be there to deliver my baby. She came into the room and there was an organized chaos to get the room ready. My bed was broken apart, tables were wheeled in, packages of instruments were opened. It was a flurry of activity.
Then I just waited for instructions for my doctor. I didn't know what to do and hadn't been to the birthing classes. I was scared but there really wasn't much time to dwell. I pushed my fears out of my head so I would be able to push my baby out into the world.
Very slowly I started to feel my contractions again. I remembered what they said about the epidural and thought that the medicine was flowing to one side. I rolled onto my back so I was more centered and the medicine could be more evenly distributed. It helped for a while but soon I was feeling the painful contractions. I called the nurse in and told her that the epidural wasn't working. My contractions had slowed down so I wasn't in constant pain but I still wanted it to work. She gave me a little more medicine and I settled back in to wait.
The increased medicine worked for maybe 15 minutes. Then I was in pain again. And this time it was more in my bottom area. I didn't call the nurse right away because I figured she would be back in my room in a second anyway. But it took a bit longer for her to reappear. When she did come in, I told her that I was still feeling pain. Before she increased my medicine again she wanted the doctor to check me. I guess to make sure I wasn't too far into labor to give me more. I had been at 4cm about 2 hours before.
I waited a few more minutes for the doctor. It wasn't my regular doctor who checked me because my doctor was in surgery with a c-section. When the doctor did the exam, he announced that I was 10cm and needed to start pushing.
Needless to say, I was in shock. And I wasn't ready. I figured I had several more hours to get mentally and emotionally prepared to start pushing. I kept saying, "I'm not ready yet" over and over.
Because my doctor was in surgery, they decided that the baby's heartrate was fine and that I could wait until she was done. She had been paged so she knew I was ready when she was. Another 10 minutes rolled by and she called and said to go ahead and start pushing because she was going to be longer than expected.
Meanwhile my parents and mother-in-law just got back to the waiting room from the cafeteria. My husband ran out and told them I was going to start pushing and that they had to stay out. I only wanted my husband in the room with me but I regret not being able to see my mother before I started pushing.
Another OBGYN from my doctor's office was at the hospital at the time. I had seen her for several of my prenatal visits and I loved her. So I was happy that she would be there to deliver my baby. She came into the room and there was an organized chaos to get the room ready. My bed was broken apart, tables were wheeled in, packages of instruments were opened. It was a flurry of activity.
Then I just waited for instructions for my doctor. I didn't know what to do and hadn't been to the birthing classes. I was scared but there really wasn't much time to dwell. I pushed my fears out of my head so I would be able to push my baby out into the world.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Should I get the epidural...
I had wanted to go through labor naturally, no pain meds. But as the contractions got worse, I started to rethink that decision. I wasn't against an epidural but it was kind of like I wanted to prove that I could do it without. I knew that if I opted for the epidural they would kick everyone out of the room again. I thought this would be the perfect time to send my husband home. I insisted on it. By this time it was about 10:30 in the morning and I figured he could go home for an hour or more, let the dogs out, make sure they ate, etc. He reluctantly left me and his unborn son. I assured him that I wouldn't have his baby until he got back.
When the nurse came in again I asked her for the epidural. She said they would contact the anesthesiologist right away. They also had to get a bag and a half of fluid into me through my IV. I was told that it would take 15 minutes. I can't even begin to tell you how upset that made me. Again, irrational. But I was just thinking that in 15 minutes time I would have at least 7 more of these monster contractions. There was nothing I could do though so I just lay there while the IV dripped, dripped, dripped. And I have no idea what the fluid was but it makes your hand and arm freezing cold. Just a strange feeling.
When the IV bags were finally done, they sent in the anesthesiologist. I had to sit up and drape my legs over the edge of the bed. The doctor looked at my back and touched my spine to feel where he would insert the epidural. I flinched a lot. I knew they would tell me when they were going to do it but I was still nervous. My sister-in-law had a very bad experience with an epidural at the same hospital. It was a different doctor administering it but I still had her in the back of my mind. They explained that they would numb the area and would insert the needle. I was told to curl up, well as much as I could with a beach ball for a belly. At this point, my contractions kind of stopped. They weren't as painful and they didn't seem to be as constant. They told me that just changing position can sometimes help with the contractions. Then I thought I should have waited because I was sure I could have handled the pain by just moving around. But here I was curled up waiting for a needle to skewer my spine. It actually didn't really hurt. And once it was in I was asked if I could feel anything to one side more than the other or if it was just in the middle. I was also asked if I could taste metal in my mouth. Apparently those are signs that it wasn't inserted correctly. But I was fine. And I could tell immediately that I was starting to numb and wouldn't be able to feel any contractions from that point on. They taped up my back and had me lay back in the bed.
Once that was all done, I was told that my bladder had to be empty before the delivery. It makes it easier for the baby to come down the birth canal when the bladder can be flattened. I had used the bathroom before they broke my water and hadn't had any liquids since so I was sure that I was empty. But because I had the epidural and couldn't get up, I had to have a catheter. This made me more nervous than the epidural. The nurse did it and I did feel it. I didn't feel pain but I felt a pinching. And I felt it once it was in too. They taped the tube to my leg and had the bag off to the side of the bed. I was amazed when I saw the bag fill up. I didn't even feel like I was going.
Then I was told to lay on my left side but that the epidural worked with gravity. So being on my side would shift the medicine to my left side and might wear off a little on my right side. I was told to get some rest. My parents came back in briefly but then left so I could sleep. Then my husband shows up. He had been gone for less than an hour. I was hoping that he would spend more time at home so the dogs wouldn't be home alone for so long. But he was back so he pulled up a chair and tried to get a nap while I tried to sleep. Meanwhile my legs felt like slabs of meat. I could feel them but they were heavy and numb when I touched them. I didn't like the feeling of not being in control of my legs but I did like not feeling the contractions. I am not sure what I will decide for my next baby but for this baby I was fine with the decision.
When the nurse came in again I asked her for the epidural. She said they would contact the anesthesiologist right away. They also had to get a bag and a half of fluid into me through my IV. I was told that it would take 15 minutes. I can't even begin to tell you how upset that made me. Again, irrational. But I was just thinking that in 15 minutes time I would have at least 7 more of these monster contractions. There was nothing I could do though so I just lay there while the IV dripped, dripped, dripped. And I have no idea what the fluid was but it makes your hand and arm freezing cold. Just a strange feeling.
When the IV bags were finally done, they sent in the anesthesiologist. I had to sit up and drape my legs over the edge of the bed. The doctor looked at my back and touched my spine to feel where he would insert the epidural. I flinched a lot. I knew they would tell me when they were going to do it but I was still nervous. My sister-in-law had a very bad experience with an epidural at the same hospital. It was a different doctor administering it but I still had her in the back of my mind. They explained that they would numb the area and would insert the needle. I was told to curl up, well as much as I could with a beach ball for a belly. At this point, my contractions kind of stopped. They weren't as painful and they didn't seem to be as constant. They told me that just changing position can sometimes help with the contractions. Then I thought I should have waited because I was sure I could have handled the pain by just moving around. But here I was curled up waiting for a needle to skewer my spine. It actually didn't really hurt. And once it was in I was asked if I could feel anything to one side more than the other or if it was just in the middle. I was also asked if I could taste metal in my mouth. Apparently those are signs that it wasn't inserted correctly. But I was fine. And I could tell immediately that I was starting to numb and wouldn't be able to feel any contractions from that point on. They taped up my back and had me lay back in the bed.
Once that was all done, I was told that my bladder had to be empty before the delivery. It makes it easier for the baby to come down the birth canal when the bladder can be flattened. I had used the bathroom before they broke my water and hadn't had any liquids since so I was sure that I was empty. But because I had the epidural and couldn't get up, I had to have a catheter. This made me more nervous than the epidural. The nurse did it and I did feel it. I didn't feel pain but I felt a pinching. And I felt it once it was in too. They taped the tube to my leg and had the bag off to the side of the bed. I was amazed when I saw the bag fill up. I didn't even feel like I was going.
Then I was told to lay on my left side but that the epidural worked with gravity. So being on my side would shift the medicine to my left side and might wear off a little on my right side. I was told to get some rest. My parents came back in briefly but then left so I could sleep. Then my husband shows up. He had been gone for less than an hour. I was hoping that he would spend more time at home so the dogs wouldn't be home alone for so long. But he was back so he pulled up a chair and tried to get a nap while I tried to sleep. Meanwhile my legs felt like slabs of meat. I could feel them but they were heavy and numb when I touched them. I didn't like the feeling of not being in control of my legs but I did like not feeling the contractions. I am not sure what I will decide for my next baby but for this baby I was fine with the decision.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Oh no, here they come...
After the doctor broke my bag of waters, I wasn't sure what to expect. My pain level had been non-existent up until that point. Within a half hour of my water breaking, I actually felt my first contraction. I felt the tightening of my belly and I felt a cramping sensation. It didn't really hurt at all. The monitors showed that I was having contractions about 4-5 minutes apart and they weren't lasting more than 15-30 seconds.
My husband and parents were back in the room by now and we were all just sitting around. I can't even remember what we were talking about. I guess it wasn't that important compared to the life changing biological process that was taking place.
The doctor came in and checked me and I was 3cm dilated. I had made some progress. My contractions were a little more intense and I raised my pain level to 2. The smiley face wasn't frowning yet but the smile was beginning to disappear. I was advised to try to get some rest because apparently when the body is relaxed, the labor progresses more rapidly. I tried to rest but I felt like I had to entertain the party in the room. And the nurses wouldn't leave me alone for more than 5 minutes at a time.
This state of limbo lasted for about an hour. My contractions were a little closer together and lasting for a bit longer but they weren't close together on a regular basis. After an hour or so, the contractions increased in strength. The pain was slowly inching up the chart and I was now at a 5. I was asked if I wanted ice chips and I still didn't want them. I thought I should have them because that is what you see women in labor munching on but I really didn't want them. It was almost like I wanted to shout at the nurse to not ask me about them again and that I would ask for them if I needed them. Irrational, but that is how I felt. At that point I knew that I was in a transition stage because I normally wouldn't be so adamant about something as silly as ice chips.
It was around this time that I tried to send my husband home. I was only 3cm dilated and I figured I would be there for a while and I wanted him to go home and be with the dogs, assuming that he would be at the hospital all night. He refused to go and I let it go for the moment.
My contractions were now becoming more and more painful. There was the tightening of the belly and the cramping. But it also felt like I was losing control. It was like when you are on a roller coaster and go over the first big hill. I always feel like my insides are going to fall out and I jam my feet against the floor to get some stability. That is what contractions felt like. I felt like my insides were going to fall out and I had to push back against the bed to get some support. I was gripping the bedrails like it was my job. I also held my breath. I knew I was supposed to breathe but my it felt better to hold my breath.
My father was annoying me because he grabbing my feet. I didn't want my feet to be grabbed but I didn't want to hurt my father's feelings so I let him do it. And I would just lash out at my husband instead. I told him that it would feel really good if I could kick him really hard. But then I apologized. It would have felt good while I was going through the contractions though.
The contractions were getting stronger and stronger and were only about a minute apart. They were lasting almost a minute too so there was little time for relief in between. I love my parents. I really do. But it was during my contractions-free minute that they wanted to take pictures of me in the hospital bed. Today I laugh at the pictures because I am smiling like I was getting glamour shots done. Then as soon as the flash was over, I would be grabbing the bed rails. I guess it was my fault because apparently I wasn't clear that I was in pain. Both my husband and father said that I was stoic through the contractions and they had no idea that I was in so much pain. My pain level was at an 8 and I decided to ask for an epidural. I was at 4cm so I figured I had a lot of time left and wanted to be comfortable. I was hoping to go without but maybe I will be ok for the next baby now that I know what to expect.
My husband and parents were back in the room by now and we were all just sitting around. I can't even remember what we were talking about. I guess it wasn't that important compared to the life changing biological process that was taking place.
The doctor came in and checked me and I was 3cm dilated. I had made some progress. My contractions were a little more intense and I raised my pain level to 2. The smiley face wasn't frowning yet but the smile was beginning to disappear. I was advised to try to get some rest because apparently when the body is relaxed, the labor progresses more rapidly. I tried to rest but I felt like I had to entertain the party in the room. And the nurses wouldn't leave me alone for more than 5 minutes at a time.
This state of limbo lasted for about an hour. My contractions were a little closer together and lasting for a bit longer but they weren't close together on a regular basis. After an hour or so, the contractions increased in strength. The pain was slowly inching up the chart and I was now at a 5. I was asked if I wanted ice chips and I still didn't want them. I thought I should have them because that is what you see women in labor munching on but I really didn't want them. It was almost like I wanted to shout at the nurse to not ask me about them again and that I would ask for them if I needed them. Irrational, but that is how I felt. At that point I knew that I was in a transition stage because I normally wouldn't be so adamant about something as silly as ice chips.
It was around this time that I tried to send my husband home. I was only 3cm dilated and I figured I would be there for a while and I wanted him to go home and be with the dogs, assuming that he would be at the hospital all night. He refused to go and I let it go for the moment.
My contractions were now becoming more and more painful. There was the tightening of the belly and the cramping. But it also felt like I was losing control. It was like when you are on a roller coaster and go over the first big hill. I always feel like my insides are going to fall out and I jam my feet against the floor to get some stability. That is what contractions felt like. I felt like my insides were going to fall out and I had to push back against the bed to get some support. I was gripping the bedrails like it was my job. I also held my breath. I knew I was supposed to breathe but my it felt better to hold my breath.
My father was annoying me because he grabbing my feet. I didn't want my feet to be grabbed but I didn't want to hurt my father's feelings so I let him do it. And I would just lash out at my husband instead. I told him that it would feel really good if I could kick him really hard. But then I apologized. It would have felt good while I was going through the contractions though.
The contractions were getting stronger and stronger and were only about a minute apart. They were lasting almost a minute too so there was little time for relief in between. I love my parents. I really do. But it was during my contractions-free minute that they wanted to take pictures of me in the hospital bed. Today I laugh at the pictures because I am smiling like I was getting glamour shots done. Then as soon as the flash was over, I would be grabbing the bed rails. I guess it was my fault because apparently I wasn't clear that I was in pain. Both my husband and father said that I was stoic through the contractions and they had no idea that I was in so much pain. My pain level was at an 8 and I decided to ask for an epidural. I was at 4cm so I figured I had a lot of time left and wanted to be comfortable. I was hoping to go without but maybe I will be ok for the next baby now that I know what to expect.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
My water has been broken...
I had been at the hospital for about an hour when I was told that the doctor would be in shortly to break my water. I had no idea what to expect. At around 8am, the doctor comes in with a long instrument that was wrapped so I didn't panic at first sight. Then when she unwrapped it, it looked like a HUGE crochet hook. It was long with a hook at the end. I knew she wasn't there to make a blanket so I knew it was going to be used to break my water. At this point I had been checked for dilation a few times and that hurt. I couldn't imagine what this was going to feel like.
Everyone other than the medical staff was asked to leave the room. The doctor told me it wouldn't hurt and she inserted the needle. The next thing I knew, there was a gush of liquid. It did not hurt in the least. Again, I thought I was superwoman and could withstand any type of pain.
I should mention that prior to her breaking my water, the bed was prepped and several layers of puppy training pads were placed underneath me. I had thought that was kind of humorous but necessary. Luckily the pads were there or my bed would have been ruined. After that initial gush, the doctor checked and saw that the liquid was clear. There was no meconium. Meconium is present if the baby has a bowel movement in the womb. This can be dangerous because it can get into the baby's lungs. So it was a very good sign that the liquid had been clear.
I thought that the big gush was over and they would remove the wet puppy pads and I would be able to lay in the bed comfortably. I was wrong. The gush was followed by a constant leak of fluid. It didn't stop. It was so uncomfortable. I don't know if this is how it is for other women but I never heard of this. In fact, my puppy pads had to be changed several times before all was said and done. How is it even possible for a woman to have her water break outside of the hospital? I don't think there are pads big enough to hold all of the liquid. I don't even think adult diapers would do the job. I am really glad that it didn't happen while I was at work or the grocery store.
I thought I would feel less bloated or relief of some pressure but the only thing that was different after my water broke was that I was sitting in liquid. I wondered what would happen next in this journey of mine.
Everyone other than the medical staff was asked to leave the room. The doctor told me it wouldn't hurt and she inserted the needle. The next thing I knew, there was a gush of liquid. It did not hurt in the least. Again, I thought I was superwoman and could withstand any type of pain.
I should mention that prior to her breaking my water, the bed was prepped and several layers of puppy training pads were placed underneath me. I had thought that was kind of humorous but necessary. Luckily the pads were there or my bed would have been ruined. After that initial gush, the doctor checked and saw that the liquid was clear. There was no meconium. Meconium is present if the baby has a bowel movement in the womb. This can be dangerous because it can get into the baby's lungs. So it was a very good sign that the liquid had been clear.
I thought that the big gush was over and they would remove the wet puppy pads and I would be able to lay in the bed comfortably. I was wrong. The gush was followed by a constant leak of fluid. It didn't stop. It was so uncomfortable. I don't know if this is how it is for other women but I never heard of this. In fact, my puppy pads had to be changed several times before all was said and done. How is it even possible for a woman to have her water break outside of the hospital? I don't think there are pads big enough to hold all of the liquid. I don't even think adult diapers would do the job. I am really glad that it didn't happen while I was at work or the grocery store.
I thought I would feel less bloated or relief of some pressure but the only thing that was different after my water broke was that I was sitting in liquid. I wondered what would happen next in this journey of mine.
Monday, July 14, 2008
I'll be a mom today...
It was Tuesday. I woke up knowing that I would be a mom before the day was over. I had to be at the hospital by 6:00am. I had arranged for my father to take me in and my husband would stay at home with the dogs until I called him when I was settled in my room. I just really didn't want them to be alone all day so I wanted him home with them as long as possible.
I got up and showered. I had heard that being induced is really painful so I was just hoping that my water would break and I would start having contractions on my own. But nothing happened. My dad picked me up at about 5:30am and we drove to the hospital. I was pretty calm though my heart was beating really fast. The car ride was a little awkward. Just a lot of small talk. I was trying not to think about the pain that I was going to be in shortly.
We arrived at the hospital and I checked in at the desk. I was shown to the delivery room which I had seen before when we toured the hospital. They had me change into a gown, took some blood and an IV was started. By this time I was not even worried about the needles. I started to feel extremely nauseous and thought I was going to be sick. I had been laying on my back so they had me turn to my side and I felt better. I had monitors strapped around my belly, just like my non-stress test monitors. One was to track the fetal heart-rate and one was to track my contractions. It showed that I was having contractions but I couldn't feel them at all. Once I was settled into the bed, they let my dad in and we just sat there. We pretended to watch a news program on TV. I didn't really want to talk. He held my hand.
Every few minutes a nurse would come in and do something - check the monitors, take my blood pressure, move things around. And every time they came in, they asked what my pain level was. There was a chart of faces, smiley faces to frowing faces, numbered one through ten. One being no pain with a very smiley face and ten being the most pain with a very frowny face. I kept telling them that I was at a zero unless you counted my hand where an IV was sticking out. I thought that I would be able to go through this without an epidural because I was obviously handling this better than any woman in the history of the world. I couldn't believe that I was having contractions every 4 to 5 minutes and didn't even feel them.
They started the pitocin and I was sure that any moment I would be in excrutiating pain. But I wasn't. And I waited.
I had told my husband to get to the hospital around 8am. That was when they would break my water. But he showed up around 6:30am. He wanted to be with me. My mother showed up around the same time and we all just sat in the room and waited.
The doctor checked me and I was only 2cm dilated. I had been 2cm dilated for a couple of weeks so I was nervous that the labor wouldn't progress. So I waited.
My mother and father went to get something to eat and my husband and I sat together. I didn't leave the bed. Everyone kept asking me if I wanted ice chips but I didn't want them and I didn't understand why women eat them. Maybe I would want them later...
I got up and showered. I had heard that being induced is really painful so I was just hoping that my water would break and I would start having contractions on my own. But nothing happened. My dad picked me up at about 5:30am and we drove to the hospital. I was pretty calm though my heart was beating really fast. The car ride was a little awkward. Just a lot of small talk. I was trying not to think about the pain that I was going to be in shortly.
We arrived at the hospital and I checked in at the desk. I was shown to the delivery room which I had seen before when we toured the hospital. They had me change into a gown, took some blood and an IV was started. By this time I was not even worried about the needles. I started to feel extremely nauseous and thought I was going to be sick. I had been laying on my back so they had me turn to my side and I felt better. I had monitors strapped around my belly, just like my non-stress test monitors. One was to track the fetal heart-rate and one was to track my contractions. It showed that I was having contractions but I couldn't feel them at all. Once I was settled into the bed, they let my dad in and we just sat there. We pretended to watch a news program on TV. I didn't really want to talk. He held my hand.
Every few minutes a nurse would come in and do something - check the monitors, take my blood pressure, move things around. And every time they came in, they asked what my pain level was. There was a chart of faces, smiley faces to frowing faces, numbered one through ten. One being no pain with a very smiley face and ten being the most pain with a very frowny face. I kept telling them that I was at a zero unless you counted my hand where an IV was sticking out. I thought that I would be able to go through this without an epidural because I was obviously handling this better than any woman in the history of the world. I couldn't believe that I was having contractions every 4 to 5 minutes and didn't even feel them.
They started the pitocin and I was sure that any moment I would be in excrutiating pain. But I wasn't. And I waited.
I had told my husband to get to the hospital around 8am. That was when they would break my water. But he showed up around 6:30am. He wanted to be with me. My mother showed up around the same time and we all just sat in the room and waited.
The doctor checked me and I was only 2cm dilated. I had been 2cm dilated for a couple of weeks so I was nervous that the labor wouldn't progress. So I waited.
My mother and father went to get something to eat and my husband and I sat together. I didn't leave the bed. Everyone kept asking me if I wanted ice chips but I didn't want them and I didn't understand why women eat them. Maybe I would want them later...
Friday, July 11, 2008
It's time...
I had been planning to work up until the last possible day. I was concerned about getting my short-term disability and my vacation coordinated so I would be able to be off with my baby until the end of the year and get paid for the whole time. Now that I was getting closer, I was sure that I would be able to do that without any problem.
My doctor said that they can approve leave starting at 38 weeks unless there is a medical reason to do so earlier. I had just found out that I would be induced the following week and I kind of wanted a couple of days to relax and make sure everything was in place. I decided to start my leave the Thursday before. That would give me 5 full days before my new baby arrived.
I didn't really do anything major for those 5 days. I was pushing my anxiety to the back of my mind and focusing on other things. I was actually surprised at how active I was. I don't know why but I was expecting to be in bed and unable to get up and around for the last couple of days. But I went about my life as if I was only 25 weeks pregnant.
I was also thinking that I might go into labor on my own. I had been 1-2cm dilated for a couple of weeks and thought that meant that labor was imminent. But it wasn't and I didn't. I just had to wait until my induction date.
The anxiety is hard to describe. I was anxious and nervous and excited the couple of days before my wedding. It was kind of like that but also very different. I had lived with my husband before we got married so there wasn't going to be a huge lifestyle change after we married. But with a baby, everything as I knew it would be 100% different. And the pain. I couldn't stop thinking about the pain. When I got married there was minimal pain.
So I waited and I reflected and I got myself mentally ready. I was holding up pretty well on the outside until the night before my induction. I was sad that I wouldn't be home with my dogs and husband for a few days. I was scared that I would have an empty feeling once the baby was out of my body. I was scared that I wouldn't be able to bond with the baby. I was scared that something would happen to me or the baby during childbirth. I was scared that my life would never be the same and that I would hate my new life. I was scared that I would do something wrong. I was scared of the labor. I was scared of everything. I had most of these fears at some point throughout my pregnancy but the event seemed so far away that I didn't really worry about it. But now it was here. In a couple of hours I would be thrown into all of my fears. So that night before my induction, I broke down a little and cried. I let it all out and I actually felt better. Then I settled down for the last good night's sleep that I would have for a while.
My doctor said that they can approve leave starting at 38 weeks unless there is a medical reason to do so earlier. I had just found out that I would be induced the following week and I kind of wanted a couple of days to relax and make sure everything was in place. I decided to start my leave the Thursday before. That would give me 5 full days before my new baby arrived.
I didn't really do anything major for those 5 days. I was pushing my anxiety to the back of my mind and focusing on other things. I was actually surprised at how active I was. I don't know why but I was expecting to be in bed and unable to get up and around for the last couple of days. But I went about my life as if I was only 25 weeks pregnant.
I was also thinking that I might go into labor on my own. I had been 1-2cm dilated for a couple of weeks and thought that meant that labor was imminent. But it wasn't and I didn't. I just had to wait until my induction date.
The anxiety is hard to describe. I was anxious and nervous and excited the couple of days before my wedding. It was kind of like that but also very different. I had lived with my husband before we got married so there wasn't going to be a huge lifestyle change after we married. But with a baby, everything as I knew it would be 100% different. And the pain. I couldn't stop thinking about the pain. When I got married there was minimal pain.
So I waited and I reflected and I got myself mentally ready. I was holding up pretty well on the outside until the night before my induction. I was sad that I wouldn't be home with my dogs and husband for a few days. I was scared that I would have an empty feeling once the baby was out of my body. I was scared that I wouldn't be able to bond with the baby. I was scared that something would happen to me or the baby during childbirth. I was scared that my life would never be the same and that I would hate my new life. I was scared that I would do something wrong. I was scared of the labor. I was scared of everything. I had most of these fears at some point throughout my pregnancy but the event seemed so far away that I didn't really worry about it. But now it was here. In a couple of hours I would be thrown into all of my fears. So that night before my induction, I broke down a little and cried. I let it all out and I actually felt better. Then I settled down for the last good night's sleep that I would have for a while.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Now I am starting to get scared...
Well, I felt like I was getting really close to giving birth. I started feeling that I was going to go into labor any moment starting in my 7th month. I didn't have any contractions, wasn't dilated, wasn't having any labor symptoms. But I just knew that at any second it would start. I guess I was just getting anxious.
But the weeks dragged on and no baby. And I realized that I did have some fears about labor. I was afraid that my water would break when I was in public - at work, at the grocery store, at the post office, while pumping gas... I was also scared about the pain of contractions. No one had been able to describe exactly what contractions felt like and how bad the pain gets. I was pretty sure I had a low tolerance for pain. When my dogs step on my foot, it hurts to the point where I have to grab my foot and rub out the pain. The same thing happens to my husband and he goes on with his life. I was worried about leaving my dogs while I was going through hours of labor. I didn't know who I was going to get to check on them because everyone I was close to would be at the hospital. I was worred that I would forget to do something and then I would go into labor and it would be too late. I was worried that I wouldn't have everything squared away at work before I went into labor. I was worried that something would happen to me or the baby during the delivery. I was worried about everything. I started to feel that I wasn't ready. Even though I wanted to meet this baby, I wanted more time. And the problem with labor is that you never know when it is going to happen so you have to be prepared. I wasn't feeling prepared at all. I knew that I had everything done and ready but there was that nagging feeling that I was not thinking of something very important.
Then I went to the doctor around my 36th week. This was a regular OBGYN appointment, nothing out of the ordinary. The doctor told me I was 1cm dilated! I thought I would be able to feel when I dilated. But here I was, starting to dilate and I had no idea. I thought for sure that this was it and I would be having the baby in a couple of days.
Week 37 came and went with no change. I was still 1cm dilated and no closer to labor than I was the previous week.
Week 38 came and I had my doctor appointment. The doctor told me then that they were going to induce me the following Tuesday. Because of my gestational diabetes they wanted to get the baby out and said there was no value in waiting the extra week. I was told to go to the hospital on October 30th at 6am and I would have my baby that day.
You would think that knowing the date that I was going to give birth would alleviate some of my fears. Well it did take care of the fears of the unknown - like when and where would I go into labor. But I was almost more scared knowing the when and where. I guess I was just scared period and my fears just shifted. So now all I had to do was not think about it for a week. Yeah right!
But the weeks dragged on and no baby. And I realized that I did have some fears about labor. I was afraid that my water would break when I was in public - at work, at the grocery store, at the post office, while pumping gas... I was also scared about the pain of contractions. No one had been able to describe exactly what contractions felt like and how bad the pain gets. I was pretty sure I had a low tolerance for pain. When my dogs step on my foot, it hurts to the point where I have to grab my foot and rub out the pain. The same thing happens to my husband and he goes on with his life. I was worried about leaving my dogs while I was going through hours of labor. I didn't know who I was going to get to check on them because everyone I was close to would be at the hospital. I was worred that I would forget to do something and then I would go into labor and it would be too late. I was worried that I wouldn't have everything squared away at work before I went into labor. I was worried that something would happen to me or the baby during the delivery. I was worried about everything. I started to feel that I wasn't ready. Even though I wanted to meet this baby, I wanted more time. And the problem with labor is that you never know when it is going to happen so you have to be prepared. I wasn't feeling prepared at all. I knew that I had everything done and ready but there was that nagging feeling that I was not thinking of something very important.
Then I went to the doctor around my 36th week. This was a regular OBGYN appointment, nothing out of the ordinary. The doctor told me I was 1cm dilated! I thought I would be able to feel when I dilated. But here I was, starting to dilate and I had no idea. I thought for sure that this was it and I would be having the baby in a couple of days.
Week 37 came and went with no change. I was still 1cm dilated and no closer to labor than I was the previous week.
Week 38 came and I had my doctor appointment. The doctor told me then that they were going to induce me the following Tuesday. Because of my gestational diabetes they wanted to get the baby out and said there was no value in waiting the extra week. I was told to go to the hospital on October 30th at 6am and I would have my baby that day.
You would think that knowing the date that I was going to give birth would alleviate some of my fears. Well it did take care of the fears of the unknown - like when and where would I go into labor. But I was almost more scared knowing the when and where. I guess I was just scared period and my fears just shifted. So now all I had to do was not think about it for a week. Yeah right!
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
More tests...
Not only did I have to test my blood sugars several times a day, and had to eat more food on a daily basis than I have ever eaten before, but now I also had to go for a weekly non-stress test. Apparently the baby had to be monitored to see how well he would handle contractions when I went into labor. I was thinking that I was going to have to be hooked up to machines and run on a treadmill, etc.
But, the tests consisted of a sonogram and monitoring the baby's heartbeat. I was not happy about having to go to the hospital every week for this test, on top of the weekly specialists visits and the OBGYN visits. But I was excited that I was going to get to see my baby every week.
The hospital has one of those 4D ultrasound machines. They actually have the best equipment in the area which is why my doctor sent me there for these tests. And with the flip of a switch, they were able to switch from the regular ultrasound to the 4D. It was amazing. A friend of mine had the 4D image taken and when her son was born he looked exactly like the picture. I wanted to see my son's face so bad. Unfortunately he didn't want me to see him until he was able to look at me too. He hid his face at every single appointment. His hand were covering his face the entire time. They had me cough, laugh, wiggle, move around just to make him move his hands. They pushed on my belly and jiggled it. And he didn't budge. I started drinking orange juice before each appointment because that always seemed to make him move. But his hands were fastened in place over his face. I started to worry that something was wrong with his hands or arms. I thought that he wasn't physically able to move them away from his face. One day, he moved them briefly and they were able to get a 4D photo of a partial view of his face. The angle was off and it looked like his nose took up his whole face. I worried about his nose. I would love him, big nose and all but I wondered where he inherited it from. But at least I got a glimpse of him.
After the sonogram I was taken into a room and had to sit in a nice comfy chair. Monitors were strapped to my bulging belly - one to monitor my contractions if I was having any and one to monitor the baby's heartbeat. Then I just had to sit back and wait. They were looking for an acceleration of the baby's heartbeat when I had a contraction and a deceleration when the contraction was over. They had to wait for 3 good spikes of the heartbeat. For most of the appointments I was waiting forever. He just didn't want to cooperate. I would do anything I could to get his little heartbeat to spike. Just like for the sonogram, I would cough and laugh and talk and wiggle. They even brought out this device that looked like an electric shaver and zapped my belly. It just made a vibrating, rumbling noise. Eventually they got what they needed and I would go on to work.
Who knew being pregnant would be so much work! As long as the baby was ok, I would have done it every day if necessary. You do what you have to do when you are completely and totally responsible for someone else.
But, the tests consisted of a sonogram and monitoring the baby's heartbeat. I was not happy about having to go to the hospital every week for this test, on top of the weekly specialists visits and the OBGYN visits. But I was excited that I was going to get to see my baby every week.
The hospital has one of those 4D ultrasound machines. They actually have the best equipment in the area which is why my doctor sent me there for these tests. And with the flip of a switch, they were able to switch from the regular ultrasound to the 4D. It was amazing. A friend of mine had the 4D image taken and when her son was born he looked exactly like the picture. I wanted to see my son's face so bad. Unfortunately he didn't want me to see him until he was able to look at me too. He hid his face at every single appointment. His hand were covering his face the entire time. They had me cough, laugh, wiggle, move around just to make him move his hands. They pushed on my belly and jiggled it. And he didn't budge. I started drinking orange juice before each appointment because that always seemed to make him move. But his hands were fastened in place over his face. I started to worry that something was wrong with his hands or arms. I thought that he wasn't physically able to move them away from his face. One day, he moved them briefly and they were able to get a 4D photo of a partial view of his face. The angle was off and it looked like his nose took up his whole face. I worried about his nose. I would love him, big nose and all but I wondered where he inherited it from. But at least I got a glimpse of him.
After the sonogram I was taken into a room and had to sit in a nice comfy chair. Monitors were strapped to my bulging belly - one to monitor my contractions if I was having any and one to monitor the baby's heartbeat. Then I just had to sit back and wait. They were looking for an acceleration of the baby's heartbeat when I had a contraction and a deceleration when the contraction was over. They had to wait for 3 good spikes of the heartbeat. For most of the appointments I was waiting forever. He just didn't want to cooperate. I would do anything I could to get his little heartbeat to spike. Just like for the sonogram, I would cough and laugh and talk and wiggle. They even brought out this device that looked like an electric shaver and zapped my belly. It just made a vibrating, rumbling noise. Eventually they got what they needed and I would go on to work.
Who knew being pregnant would be so much work! As long as the baby was ok, I would have done it every day if necessary. You do what you have to do when you are completely and totally responsible for someone else.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Baby shower...
It was time for my baby shower. Yeah! I hate showers, especially my own. Ok, so I don't really hate showers. I do hate public speaking and being the honoree of a shower is basically a test in public speaking. I don't care if the guests were related to me or my husband. I don't like all attention on me and I feel awkward accepting gifts in front of the person giving it to me. But my mother and godmother threw a very lovely shower and everyone brought wonderful and useful gifts.
The shower was at a very good restaurant in the area and I had helped plan the menu several weeks beforehand. We had breaded chicken, a couple different types of pasta, salads, veggies and potatoes. I realized when I got there that I couldn't really eat much of it because of my new disease. What I was able to eat was delicious.
One thing that I dread about showers are the stupid games that you are forced to participate in. I didn't want any games but there were a couple of unique ideas so we decided to give them a try.
Game #1 - Play-Doh babies - Each guest is given a tiny tub of Play-Doh and a paper plate. They put their name on the back of the paper plate and used the Play-Doh to make a baby. I thought that people would be annoyed that they had to do this but everyone really seemed to enjoy it. Then all of the paper plates were displayed on a table and the mom-to-be (me) had to choose a winner. The winning baby was adorable and very well made. But I should have had a prize for most creative too. Some were really graphic and anatomically correct. One even showed the birth process with the baby crowning. It was great!
Game #2 - Message in a diaper - This wasn't really a game but it was a cute idea. We got a pack of diapers and a bunch of permanent markers. We took envelope labels and stuck them to the diapers. Each guest wrote a message to the dad-to-be on one of the diapers. The thought was that the dad should be changing the diapers and he could read words of wisdom from all of the ladies. All of the diapers are put back into the pack and not to be read until the you are changing the baby. But my husband and I peeked. The messages were so funny and so heartwarming. I loved it.
Then of course I had to stand in front of everyone and open my gifts. I had to act surprised knowing that most people purchased things from a registry where I had already picked my own gifts. I was actually surprised by the number of people who bought things outside of the registry though. Just really thoughtful gifts. I wish I could be more thoughtful when buying gifts for people because it really means a lot. I actually got pretty much everything I needed. And my mother (first time grandmother) went out and bought everything else from the registry anyway.
All in all, the shower was a great success - even though I couldn't have any cake!
The shower was at a very good restaurant in the area and I had helped plan the menu several weeks beforehand. We had breaded chicken, a couple different types of pasta, salads, veggies and potatoes. I realized when I got there that I couldn't really eat much of it because of my new disease. What I was able to eat was delicious.
One thing that I dread about showers are the stupid games that you are forced to participate in. I didn't want any games but there were a couple of unique ideas so we decided to give them a try.
Game #1 - Play-Doh babies - Each guest is given a tiny tub of Play-Doh and a paper plate. They put their name on the back of the paper plate and used the Play-Doh to make a baby. I thought that people would be annoyed that they had to do this but everyone really seemed to enjoy it. Then all of the paper plates were displayed on a table and the mom-to-be (me) had to choose a winner. The winning baby was adorable and very well made. But I should have had a prize for most creative too. Some were really graphic and anatomically correct. One even showed the birth process with the baby crowning. It was great!
Game #2 - Message in a diaper - This wasn't really a game but it was a cute idea. We got a pack of diapers and a bunch of permanent markers. We took envelope labels and stuck them to the diapers. Each guest wrote a message to the dad-to-be on one of the diapers. The thought was that the dad should be changing the diapers and he could read words of wisdom from all of the ladies. All of the diapers are put back into the pack and not to be read until the you are changing the baby. But my husband and I peeked. The messages were so funny and so heartwarming. I loved it.
Then of course I had to stand in front of everyone and open my gifts. I had to act surprised knowing that most people purchased things from a registry where I had already picked my own gifts. I was actually surprised by the number of people who bought things outside of the registry though. Just really thoughtful gifts. I wish I could be more thoughtful when buying gifts for people because it really means a lot. I actually got pretty much everything I needed. And my mother (first time grandmother) went out and bought everything else from the registry anyway.
All in all, the shower was a great success - even though I couldn't have any cake!
Monday, July 7, 2008
New meal plan...
Now that I had been diagnosed with gestational diabetes, I had to get in gear and figure out how I was going to manage my diet and testing my blood.
My diet plan consisted of very specific types of foods and very specific times for eating. Up to this point I had been eating cereal and a banana for breakfast. I rarely ate breakfast at all before I was pregnant so just eating in the morning was a change. I could no longer eat the sugary cereals and even the banana was questionable. For breakfast I was supposed to eat 1-2 proteins, 1 carb, 1 fruit, 1 milk and 1 fat. For instance, my usual breakfast menu was:
1-2 proteins = 1-2 eggs
1 carb = 1 piece of toast
1 fruit = 1/2 cup of orange juice
1 milk = 1 glass of milk
1 fat = little butter for my toast
I had this day in and day out for weeks. Then 2 hours after breakfast I needed a snack of 1 fruit. For lunch it was protein, carbs, veggies, milk, and fat. I would buy frozen hamburger patties, stick them in the microwave and eat without a bun. I don't think the hamburger was fit for human consumption. I ate them because they had high protein but they were the consistency of hockey pucks. I could barely chew them. Two hours later I needed a protein snack, usually a south beach diet granola bar. Two hours later, my dinner was pretty much the same as lunch, though I never had the hamburger patties for dinner. I took the time to actually make something when I got home from work. Then I needed a nighttime snack which usually was either a hard boiled egg or a piece of cheese and a tiny bowl of sugar free ice cream.
The combinations of food that I ate would probably normally make my stomach churn. But I didn't care if the food tasted ok together, I just cared that I met all of the requirements. I literally thought about food all day long. What was I going to eat next? Is it time to eat again? I felt like I was eating constantly. The point was to keep a steady stream of food coming into my body so my blood sugar didn't drop or increase dramatically. I could hardly eat all of the food I was supposed to eat. It took me several weeks to get used to this new way of eating. And I lost weight. By not eating carbs or sugars, I started losing some pounds which is great if you're not pregnant. It was definitely hard to find a balance.
In addition to stuffing my face constantly I had to test my blood. My first test of the day was after 8 hours of fasting before I ate anything. Then I would eat. I would have to wait 2 hours without eating anything and test again. Then I could have my snack. Then after my lunch, I had to wait 2 hours without eating, test again. Then snack. Then after dinner, 2 hours of fasting and then test. Then snack. But i had to be careful that the snack wasn't too late because I needed a full 8 hours of not eating or drinking so I could test in the morning.
Most of my readings were fine and within the ranges that were allowed. Some were really high though and I quickly learned that I couldn't eat peanut butter or any frozen packaged meal. Those seemed to make my sugars skyrocket.
It was a pain but I was able to manage the diabetes with diet alone and I didn't have to take any insulin which was a huge relief. But as I said before, it took something away from the pregnancy experience because I was always worried about food and it took a lot of effort. You always feel empathy and compassion for those that are dealing with a disease on a daily basis but you don't really know how difficult it is until you walk in their shoes. I feel like I had the opportunity to walk in the shoes of a diabetic and I have a whole new respect for what they have to go through. My ordeal only lasted until the baby was delivered but they have to deal with it for a lifetime.
My diet plan consisted of very specific types of foods and very specific times for eating. Up to this point I had been eating cereal and a banana for breakfast. I rarely ate breakfast at all before I was pregnant so just eating in the morning was a change. I could no longer eat the sugary cereals and even the banana was questionable. For breakfast I was supposed to eat 1-2 proteins, 1 carb, 1 fruit, 1 milk and 1 fat. For instance, my usual breakfast menu was:
1-2 proteins = 1-2 eggs
1 carb = 1 piece of toast
1 fruit = 1/2 cup of orange juice
1 milk = 1 glass of milk
1 fat = little butter for my toast
I had this day in and day out for weeks. Then 2 hours after breakfast I needed a snack of 1 fruit. For lunch it was protein, carbs, veggies, milk, and fat. I would buy frozen hamburger patties, stick them in the microwave and eat without a bun. I don't think the hamburger was fit for human consumption. I ate them because they had high protein but they were the consistency of hockey pucks. I could barely chew them. Two hours later I needed a protein snack, usually a south beach diet granola bar. Two hours later, my dinner was pretty much the same as lunch, though I never had the hamburger patties for dinner. I took the time to actually make something when I got home from work. Then I needed a nighttime snack which usually was either a hard boiled egg or a piece of cheese and a tiny bowl of sugar free ice cream.
The combinations of food that I ate would probably normally make my stomach churn. But I didn't care if the food tasted ok together, I just cared that I met all of the requirements. I literally thought about food all day long. What was I going to eat next? Is it time to eat again? I felt like I was eating constantly. The point was to keep a steady stream of food coming into my body so my blood sugar didn't drop or increase dramatically. I could hardly eat all of the food I was supposed to eat. It took me several weeks to get used to this new way of eating. And I lost weight. By not eating carbs or sugars, I started losing some pounds which is great if you're not pregnant. It was definitely hard to find a balance.
In addition to stuffing my face constantly I had to test my blood. My first test of the day was after 8 hours of fasting before I ate anything. Then I would eat. I would have to wait 2 hours without eating anything and test again. Then I could have my snack. Then after my lunch, I had to wait 2 hours without eating, test again. Then snack. Then after dinner, 2 hours of fasting and then test. Then snack. But i had to be careful that the snack wasn't too late because I needed a full 8 hours of not eating or drinking so I could test in the morning.
Most of my readings were fine and within the ranges that were allowed. Some were really high though and I quickly learned that I couldn't eat peanut butter or any frozen packaged meal. Those seemed to make my sugars skyrocket.
It was a pain but I was able to manage the diabetes with diet alone and I didn't have to take any insulin which was a huge relief. But as I said before, it took something away from the pregnancy experience because I was always worried about food and it took a lot of effort. You always feel empathy and compassion for those that are dealing with a disease on a daily basis but you don't really know how difficult it is until you walk in their shoes. I feel like I had the opportunity to walk in the shoes of a diabetic and I have a whole new respect for what they have to go through. My ordeal only lasted until the baby was delivered but they have to deal with it for a lifetime.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Glucose testing - Part 3...
I finished my 3-hour glucose test and was so glad it was over. I thought I could sit back and relax because I honestly didn't think I had anything wrong with me. A couple of days later I get an envelope in the mail from my doctor's office. In the envelope was a single sheet of paper from a notepad handwritten from the doctor. It said, "Your glucose testing indicates that you have gestational diabetes. Please contact the office and make an appointment immediately. Signed - scribble, scribble."
I was devastated. I didn't even know anything about gestational diabetes. All I could think of was that my baby would be harmed and that I would have to give myself shots of insulin. Not good for my needle phobia. I called the office, shaking. I made the appointment for the next day. I was anxious for the appointment so I could find out what was going to happen but I was also dreading it. Sometimes not knowing seems like it would be better. But I knew this condition could impact the baby so I couldn't wallow in my denial for very long.
The next day I went to the doctor. My heart was pounding and I was on the verge of tears the entire time I was waiting in the waiting room. I was called into the little room and the nurse took my blood pressure. It was really high. Obviously it was because I was nervous but this caused concern because I had always had a very normal blood pressure. The doctor came in and talked to me and showed me the results of the testing. My readings were actually only borderline. They didn't seem excessive but because the numbers came out on the wrong side of the border, I had gestational diabetes. What was going to happen to the baby, to me?
Well, women with gestational diabetes cannot process sugars very well because the hormones don't allow the body the produce and use insulin. This is all because of the placenta. And the glucose carries over through to the baby through the placenta. This can cause very big babies. The baby gets bigger more quickly than normal but the lungs and other organs/systems don't develop any quicker. So you can have a 9-lb baby 3 weeks from your due date. Big babies cause complications during labor and delivery and injuries for big babies are more common (like a broken shoulder or collarbone). All very scary stuff.
So how do I treat this condition? I was sent to a specialist. There they had someone talk to me about diet and gave me a chart of what I was allowed to eat and when I was supposed to eat. I was also given a glucose monitor. Great, more needles. I was to test my blood 4 times a day and see the specialist every 2 weeks. The monitor tracks the readings so they would be able to tell if I was controlling my sugars with diet or if I would need insulin as well.
I left the appointment with the specialist and just cried for a while. This put a damper on the pregnancy and I didn't think I would be able to enjoy the rest of it.
Oh well. Time to stop feeling sorry for myself and start doing everything I could to make sure my baby was ok. I started to feel the magnitude of the fact that I was responsible for someone else.
I was devastated. I didn't even know anything about gestational diabetes. All I could think of was that my baby would be harmed and that I would have to give myself shots of insulin. Not good for my needle phobia. I called the office, shaking. I made the appointment for the next day. I was anxious for the appointment so I could find out what was going to happen but I was also dreading it. Sometimes not knowing seems like it would be better. But I knew this condition could impact the baby so I couldn't wallow in my denial for very long.
The next day I went to the doctor. My heart was pounding and I was on the verge of tears the entire time I was waiting in the waiting room. I was called into the little room and the nurse took my blood pressure. It was really high. Obviously it was because I was nervous but this caused concern because I had always had a very normal blood pressure. The doctor came in and talked to me and showed me the results of the testing. My readings were actually only borderline. They didn't seem excessive but because the numbers came out on the wrong side of the border, I had gestational diabetes. What was going to happen to the baby, to me?
Well, women with gestational diabetes cannot process sugars very well because the hormones don't allow the body the produce and use insulin. This is all because of the placenta. And the glucose carries over through to the baby through the placenta. This can cause very big babies. The baby gets bigger more quickly than normal but the lungs and other organs/systems don't develop any quicker. So you can have a 9-lb baby 3 weeks from your due date. Big babies cause complications during labor and delivery and injuries for big babies are more common (like a broken shoulder or collarbone). All very scary stuff.
So how do I treat this condition? I was sent to a specialist. There they had someone talk to me about diet and gave me a chart of what I was allowed to eat and when I was supposed to eat. I was also given a glucose monitor. Great, more needles. I was to test my blood 4 times a day and see the specialist every 2 weeks. The monitor tracks the readings so they would be able to tell if I was controlling my sugars with diet or if I would need insulin as well.
I left the appointment with the specialist and just cried for a while. This put a damper on the pregnancy and I didn't think I would be able to enjoy the rest of it.
Oh well. Time to stop feeling sorry for myself and start doing everything I could to make sure my baby was ok. I started to feel the magnitude of the fact that I was responsible for someone else.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Glucose testing - Part 2...
I failed my 1 hour glucose test. I finally scheduled my 3-hour test. As much as I was dreading it, it had to be done. The only time I could get an appointment was in the middle of the day and I had to go to work first. I fasted from the night before so I hadn't had anything to eat all morning. As a pregnant person, this made me pretty miserable. My apologies to my co-workers.
I left work for my appointment and went to the lab. They drew blood first. Now at this point, I am almost getting used to the needles. I didn't like it, but I didn't get all worked up while they tied up my arm. I couldn't watch while they did it but I didn't think I was going to die either. I was very proud of myself. Then I drank the orange liquid. Keep in mind that I still have not had any food and I was STARVING. The liquid curbed my hunger momentarily. Then I had to sit and wait for an hour. I was told not to leave the office.
About 45 minutes into the first hour, I started getting shaky. I stuck it out and they finally called me for my next blood test.
This time was a little worse. I was cranky and I just wanted to get it over with. But they couldn't get a good vein. They stuck me twice on one arm and had to switch to the other. Now I was grossed out. They got their vial of blood and I had to drink my orange cocktail once again. And I had to wait another hour.
Test number 3. This time they stuck me once and couldn't get a vein so they went to the hand. They got their blood and gave me my drink. I honestly didn't know how I didn't pass out at this point. I just kept thinking - "Only sixty more minutes". The worst part was that all of the magazines in the office were from 2 years ago. And I had forgotten a book so I was stuck reading old garbage. When that hour was done, I got my last blood test. They didn't even attempt my arm and just took it from my hand.
Now I had to wait for the results. I knew about 500 women that were pregnant around the same time I was. It was probably closer to 10 but that is still a lot. Almost 1/2 of them had to go for the 3-hour test and none of then failed it. So I was optimistic. Really I was just thankful that there wasn't a 6-hour test! To be continued...
I left work for my appointment and went to the lab. They drew blood first. Now at this point, I am almost getting used to the needles. I didn't like it, but I didn't get all worked up while they tied up my arm. I couldn't watch while they did it but I didn't think I was going to die either. I was very proud of myself. Then I drank the orange liquid. Keep in mind that I still have not had any food and I was STARVING. The liquid curbed my hunger momentarily. Then I had to sit and wait for an hour. I was told not to leave the office.
About 45 minutes into the first hour, I started getting shaky. I stuck it out and they finally called me for my next blood test.
This time was a little worse. I was cranky and I just wanted to get it over with. But they couldn't get a good vein. They stuck me twice on one arm and had to switch to the other. Now I was grossed out. They got their vial of blood and I had to drink my orange cocktail once again. And I had to wait another hour.
Test number 3. This time they stuck me once and couldn't get a vein so they went to the hand. They got their blood and gave me my drink. I honestly didn't know how I didn't pass out at this point. I just kept thinking - "Only sixty more minutes". The worst part was that all of the magazines in the office were from 2 years ago. And I had forgotten a book so I was stuck reading old garbage. When that hour was done, I got my last blood test. They didn't even attempt my arm and just took it from my hand.
Now I had to wait for the results. I knew about 500 women that were pregnant around the same time I was. It was probably closer to 10 but that is still a lot. Almost 1/2 of them had to go for the 3-hour test and none of then failed it. So I was optimistic. Really I was just thankful that there wasn't a 6-hour test! To be continued...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)