As I lay on the hospital bed in silent agony, my doctor came in to check my progress again. I was only dialated to a seven. As she was leaving she asked if any one had any predictions as to how the baby would look. My mother-in-law said that we knew she would have tons of black hair. My doctor asked why she thought this. My mother-in-law explained that I had terrible heartburn, and my doctor laughed. She said,"Do you know how many women report having terrible heartburn during pregnancy? I'll tell you 95%. How many babies have a full head of hair? I would guess 3 maybe 5%. I'm sorry Kaysie, the heartburn doesn't mean anything." I smiled and said that I didn't need heartburn to know the baby had hair. I had seen her hair for myself in the second ultrasound. She laughed and said,"I guess we will see in a few hours."
Now the pain was stronger and my recovery time is minimal, and although I was unaware of time, everyone else in the room was sitting there counting the minutes, and wondering if this little girl was ever going to be there. My husband was beginning to worry about my strength, and his own.
How thin is the veil between this life, and the next? I think there is a very fragile balance in a birthing room. You do feel the presence of the divine. For me it felt like an electric energy. I went into the birthing room so excited that I didn't even think to ask for help, and strength. I forgot to pray. It wasn't until this moment that it occured to me that I needed help. The moment when the pain was so terrible that Nurse C., that rough old cowgirl, and my husband were pushing as hard as they could on my lower back with each contraction. I began to feel overwhemled, and exhausted.
It was during one of these silent moments of breathless anticipation that my mother-in-law reached into her purse, and pulled out a paper that she had forgotten about. This paper just happened to be a program from one of the church meetings she had attended with us. On this paper were the names, and phone numbers of our priesthood leaders. She quickly grabbed the phone, and dialed the first number on the list. She asked if someone would be willing to drive to the hospital to give me a blessing. They said that they were on their way, and they would be there in ten minutes.
I had three more contractions, and I heard voices of people coming into my room. Two men and their wives entered the curtain. One couple I knew form church meetings the others were kind strangers. the wives sat down by my mom, and my mother-in-law, and began to chat calmly, asking how I was doing. The men walked over to the bed, and said that we would have a prayer. We all bowed our heads, and one of the men said a few simple words, and the most amazing thing happened. I knew that everything was going to be fine. From that point on I didn't feel any more pain.
A few minutes later my brother, and his wife walked into the room. They just got into town, and they came to tell me that they would be in the waiting room. They were surprised that I hadn't had the baby, and they couldn't wait to meet her. then a few more contractions. I only knew about these contractions because I was staring at the monitor with absolute facination. Shocked by my lack of feeling.
Nurse C. asked how I was feeling, and checked yet again for progress. She seemed surprised when she smiled, and said,"Kaysie, Your going to have a baby! Right now! I'll go get the doctor!" She ran from the room.
Next I heard some unexpected and much welcomed voices from the other side of the curtain. I heard my uncle say,"Well we are here! Did we miss anything?" He and my aunt had traveled for two hours just to meet my daughter. I was shocked. They were surprised when we told them that they hadn't missed a thing. I was still pregnant. My uncle went out to visit with my brother, and my aunt stayed. She is a nurse, and witnessing a birth doesn't bother her.
The doctor came in, and she said that it was really time. Was it possible? Was I really having a baby? Yes!
I remained calm, and focused. For me this was the easy part. I couldn't feel anything. Things seemed to go by very quickly. Soon my doctor said, "Kaysie, I can see her head, and guess what? You guys were right. She has about two inches of thick black hair." In between contractions the doctor would style the baby's hair. She would say things like, "Oh Mommy, you are going to have fun with this! Look Grandma, she can spike it up, or wear it to the side." Then she asked me if I wanted to feel the baby's head. I will admit I was surprised when I heard myself say yes. I was always the woman who said as soon as they clean my baby up I'll hold her. I will have waited nine months to hold her, what is another ten minutes?
As I felt her head I gained more strength than I ever knew I had. I was getting three really good pushes in every contraction.
Sunday, April 27, 2008 3:15 P.M. roughly 31 hours had passed from the time of the first contraction. The guest of honor entered the room. She was 7 lbs.10 oz., and twenty inches long. She was perfect, although slightly purple. I thought of her as a little pearl who had been rolling around in my belly for the past nine months polishing herself to perfection. She was screaming as loud as her little lungs would allow. Her eyes were big and beautiful, and every bit as wide open as her mouth. I reached out my arms to hold her, and that was it. I was a mother. I felt like she had been handed straight from the arms of her loving father in heaven to me. How did I get so lucky? Here was this helpless little girl looking up at me as if she were trying to say,"Love me. I love you." Pleading with me to take care of her. How could I refuse. As I held her I vowed that I would do anything in my power to ensure her happiness.
I looked over at my husband, and there were no words exchanged. He had tears of joy brimming in his eyes. We kissed, and hugged, and we knew life as we had known it would never be the same. Is would be even better. A family was born.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
My Inquisition
It is true that I have been called the queen of useless information. If there is little or no practical use for a bit of information, chances are I know it. As I was waiting for my epidural everyone in the birthing room began to put this to the test, by asking me one irritating question after another.
Q: How much money, in change, did you save up for spending money when we went to Rome?
A: $627.50
Q: What did you wear on our third day in Rome?
A: An aqua shirt, silver belt, my favorite sexy skinny jeans, may they rest in peace, and my beaded silver four inch wedge heels.
Q: What was the name of the metro stop where we exited the second to last day of our trip?
A: Circo Massimo
Q: What was the name of that one building, you know the big white one. With the steps?
A: The Vitoriano, the monument to Victor Emanuel II the first king of united Italy, also called the typewriter steps, and the wedding cake.
Q: What is the capital city of Bulgaria?
A: Sophia
Q: If Troy where to be found, in what modern day country would we find it?
A: Turkey
Q: How tall was the light house in Alexandria Egypt reported to be?
A: What?
Q: Who was the last ruler of Egypt, under the Ptolemaic Dynasty?
A: Cleopatra
Q: What is the elevation of Mexico City?
A: Are you kidding me?!
Q: Name an Inquisitor General from the Spanish Inquisition?
A: Torquemada?
Q: Can you spell that for me?
A: No!
Q: What is the population of San Paulo, Brazil?
A: Why do you need to know?! Am I really supposed to know these things!
I would not understand this crazy line of questioning for several months. I thought that everyone was losing their minds. When really they were trying to distract me. It worked, I wasn't sitting round thinking,'when will the anaesthesiologist get here?' I was thinking,'When will these people shut up?'
Then relief. The anaesthesiologist enter the room. I was time to really get this show on the road, as my mother would say. As things were being prepared, My husband was standing on my right side holding my hand, and my mother was standing on the left. My husbands was watching the anaesthesiologist, and his eyes became very big. He seemed to go just a bit pail too. Then his mother stepped over, and tried to whisper to him, but was speaking loud enough for everyone to here. She said," You really need to remain calm right now, because they are going to put that thing in Kaysie's back, and it is going to be very painful. She might even scream, and you need to be strong." I felt a little smile on my lips, as I thought to myself. I can here you.
Then my mother who knew what I was thinking whispered to me,"You have always been good at following directions. You need to use this gift right now. Listen to the anaesthesiologist, and do exactly what he tells you to do." Funny I had never thought of my ridged regard for rules, and directions as a gift. I just thought it was something that stood in the way of my creativity. This gave me something to think about. Also I had read all about epidurals, and I knew what was going to happen. I also knew that they would give me a local anaesthetic to numb the area, before they did anything that might otherwise be considered painful. Knowledge is definitely power.
In my mind the epidural was the be all end all. I thought once it was given I would be blissfully unaware of any pain. I would float through labor. I was wrong of course.
Soon after the epidural my doctor came to check on me, and she said that she would like to start patosine(spelling?). This would make the contractions stronger, and speed things up.
After the doctor left my mom received a phone call. My brother who lived about five hours away from me was about an hour from our home. I was shocked. I had almost forgotten that he and his wife were making a trip out to see us on Sunday, April 27. They were coming out whether I had the baby or was still waiting. They were coming if I just got home from the hospital, or was still in the hospital. They planned to be at our house by 12:00 Noon. Could they really be almost there? They were.
I really didn't have long to think about it because another contraction hit. I was shocked be the intensity. I couldn't feel anything from the waist down, so how was it possible that my back was still in excruciating pain? This is when the silent birth idea came back into my mind. I told my self repeatedly, "inhale, exhale, relax the face." I was silent from this point on. I had only these thoughts, "inhale, exhale, relax the face". Since I was silent, it was hard for the others in the room to tell when and if I was having a contraction. They had to look at the monitor at first. Then they began to notice that every muscle in my arms would tense, and my breathing was slower, and more controlled. Soon and without me saying anything everyone was silent, and when the contractions came the entire room was breathing in unison.
Q: How much money, in change, did you save up for spending money when we went to Rome?
A: $627.50
Q: What did you wear on our third day in Rome?
A: An aqua shirt, silver belt, my favorite sexy skinny jeans, may they rest in peace, and my beaded silver four inch wedge heels.
Q: What was the name of the metro stop where we exited the second to last day of our trip?
A: Circo Massimo
Q: What was the name of that one building, you know the big white one. With the steps?
A: The Vitoriano, the monument to Victor Emanuel II the first king of united Italy, also called the typewriter steps, and the wedding cake.
Q: What is the capital city of Bulgaria?
A: Sophia
Q: If Troy where to be found, in what modern day country would we find it?
A: Turkey
Q: How tall was the light house in Alexandria Egypt reported to be?
A: What?
Q: Who was the last ruler of Egypt, under the Ptolemaic Dynasty?
A: Cleopatra
Q: What is the elevation of Mexico City?
A: Are you kidding me?!
Q: Name an Inquisitor General from the Spanish Inquisition?
A: Torquemada?
Q: Can you spell that for me?
A: No!
Q: What is the population of San Paulo, Brazil?
A: Why do you need to know?! Am I really supposed to know these things!
I would not understand this crazy line of questioning for several months. I thought that everyone was losing their minds. When really they were trying to distract me. It worked, I wasn't sitting round thinking,'when will the anaesthesiologist get here?' I was thinking,'When will these people shut up?'
Then relief. The anaesthesiologist enter the room. I was time to really get this show on the road, as my mother would say. As things were being prepared, My husband was standing on my right side holding my hand, and my mother was standing on the left. My husbands was watching the anaesthesiologist, and his eyes became very big. He seemed to go just a bit pail too. Then his mother stepped over, and tried to whisper to him, but was speaking loud enough for everyone to here. She said," You really need to remain calm right now, because they are going to put that thing in Kaysie's back, and it is going to be very painful. She might even scream, and you need to be strong." I felt a little smile on my lips, as I thought to myself. I can here you.
Then my mother who knew what I was thinking whispered to me,"You have always been good at following directions. You need to use this gift right now. Listen to the anaesthesiologist, and do exactly what he tells you to do." Funny I had never thought of my ridged regard for rules, and directions as a gift. I just thought it was something that stood in the way of my creativity. This gave me something to think about. Also I had read all about epidurals, and I knew what was going to happen. I also knew that they would give me a local anaesthetic to numb the area, before they did anything that might otherwise be considered painful. Knowledge is definitely power.
In my mind the epidural was the be all end all. I thought once it was given I would be blissfully unaware of any pain. I would float through labor. I was wrong of course.
Soon after the epidural my doctor came to check on me, and she said that she would like to start patosine(spelling?). This would make the contractions stronger, and speed things up.
After the doctor left my mom received a phone call. My brother who lived about five hours away from me was about an hour from our home. I was shocked. I had almost forgotten that he and his wife were making a trip out to see us on Sunday, April 27. They were coming out whether I had the baby or was still waiting. They were coming if I just got home from the hospital, or was still in the hospital. They planned to be at our house by 12:00 Noon. Could they really be almost there? They were.
I really didn't have long to think about it because another contraction hit. I was shocked be the intensity. I couldn't feel anything from the waist down, so how was it possible that my back was still in excruciating pain? This is when the silent birth idea came back into my mind. I told my self repeatedly, "inhale, exhale, relax the face." I was silent from this point on. I had only these thoughts, "inhale, exhale, relax the face". Since I was silent, it was hard for the others in the room to tell when and if I was having a contraction. They had to look at the monitor at first. Then they began to notice that every muscle in my arms would tense, and my breathing was slower, and more controlled. Soon and without me saying anything everyone was silent, and when the contractions came the entire room was breathing in unison.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
My Last Hours of Mobility
After hearing the lullaby, I called the nurse to ask her about my non epidural medication solutions. I was expecting to see Serenity, but she was accompanied by another nurse. She informed me that her shift was coming to an end, and that Nurse C. would be taking care of me. Then I said goodbye to Serenity, and natural child birth, and hello to options for pain medication. Nurse C. and I decided to try a light narcotic. I would still be able to walk, and sit in the jacuzzi, and if I could get enough rest, I might be able to go through active labor without anything else. She came back a few minutes later, placed an I.V. and gave me the narcotic. As it entered my vein it felt cold, then things began to get a little fuzzy.
Warning! From this point on the events may not be exactly what happened, but rather, my perception of what I think happened.
Nurse C. came back five minutes later, and she asked me how the contractions felt, if they were any less painful. My exact words were,"No, the contractions are still very painful, but I don't seem to care anymore." She laughed and said the the drugs were definitely working. Soon I got up again, and went for another walk. The lullaby played again. I asked my mom if she heard it too. She did! What? Someone who came in after me already had a baby? This was surprisingly funny. We laughed all the way back to the room. Soon my doctor came in to check things out, and she felt it might be time to break my water. She said it might speed things up a little, and it should make the contractions stronger. I said to go ahead.
When my water broke, I felt relief, a lot of pressure was gone.
I didn't think I would be able to go back in the jacuzzi, but I was wrong my doctor said it would be fine, so I went back into tub, Then I had another contraction, and this one, still in my back seemed to knock the air right out of me. I told myself to remain calm, and quiet, and breath deeply until it was over. I made it. This was active labor for sure. I sat in the tub for a few more minutes, and was hit with another contraction. This one left me shaking. I told my husband to call Nurse C., and I got out of the tub. I was drying off when I heard Nurse C.'s rough, but loving voice say,"Where's my girl, what does she need?" My husband said that I was just getting out of the jacuzzi, and They had no idea why I needed her. I walked out of the bathroom, and said,"To Hell with it C., I want some real drugs!" She laughed, and said,"You mean you want the epidural?", I said,"Absolutely, bring it on!" She laughed and said that she would be back in a few minutes with the anaesthesiologist.
As Nurse C. left the room the door opened just in time to here the lullaby playing again. It wasn't funny anymore.
Warning! From this point on the events may not be exactly what happened, but rather, my perception of what I think happened.
Nurse C. came back five minutes later, and she asked me how the contractions felt, if they were any less painful. My exact words were,"No, the contractions are still very painful, but I don't seem to care anymore." She laughed and said the the drugs were definitely working. Soon I got up again, and went for another walk. The lullaby played again. I asked my mom if she heard it too. She did! What? Someone who came in after me already had a baby? This was surprisingly funny. We laughed all the way back to the room. Soon my doctor came in to check things out, and she felt it might be time to break my water. She said it might speed things up a little, and it should make the contractions stronger. I said to go ahead.
When my water broke, I felt relief, a lot of pressure was gone.
I didn't think I would be able to go back in the jacuzzi, but I was wrong my doctor said it would be fine, so I went back into tub, Then I had another contraction, and this one, still in my back seemed to knock the air right out of me. I told myself to remain calm, and quiet, and breath deeply until it was over. I made it. This was active labor for sure. I sat in the tub for a few more minutes, and was hit with another contraction. This one left me shaking. I told my husband to call Nurse C., and I got out of the tub. I was drying off when I heard Nurse C.'s rough, but loving voice say,"Where's my girl, what does she need?" My husband said that I was just getting out of the jacuzzi, and They had no idea why I needed her. I walked out of the bathroom, and said,"To Hell with it C., I want some real drugs!" She laughed, and said,"You mean you want the epidural?", I said,"Absolutely, bring it on!" She laughed and said that she would be back in a few minutes with the anaesthesiologist.
As Nurse C. left the room the door opened just in time to here the lullaby playing again. It wasn't funny anymore.
Monday, January 25, 2010
My Last Lucid Hours as a Very Pregnant Woman
When we pulled into the hospital parking lot the clock in the car read 11:50 P.M. This was the last time I would be aware of time existing until we were moved into the recovery room. Although there were clocks everywhere my mind seemed to be stuck on Saturday, April 26, 2008, 11:50 P.M.
Since it was after hours, we entered through the emergency entrance, as we had been instructed during our preregistration, and tour a few months earlier.
We were waiting at the registration desk, when we met my nurse for the evening. Her name was Serenity. Isn't that the perfect name for a nurse who cares for women in labor? She led us to a small room, and then took some measurements. Still not much progress.
Serenity suggested that we take a walk around the hospital while we waited to find the bathrooms, and cafeteria, and she would take more measurements in an hour. If I was progressing by that time, I would be moved into a birthing room.
We found the cafeteria, and my husband, and mother, got a few snacks. I got some water, and while they eat I did laps around the cafeteria. Soon we heard the voices of my in-laws. They made it. I could tell that my husband was very happy to see them. Soon it was time for me to go back for more measurements. After these measurements, Serenity called my doctor, and then I was able to move into the birthing room.
My husband asked if the new deluxe room was available. It was. I was so excited. I would get the room with the private jacuzzi that I could use at anytime. Then my husband asked if there were any other women in labor. There were two other women who were getting close. They told us that we would know when they had their babies, because every time a baby is born, the hospital played a lullaby over the intercom.
We got settled into the room. I headed straight for the jacuzzi. Everyone was talking loudly in the other room, and I decided that in order to keep myself calm, and maintain my own sanity, I would have to go through with the silent birth I had planned.
I feel that I need to clarify. I did not expect everyone in the room to be silent. I was going to be silent, at least during contractions, and during the active part of labor. I was going to need every last bit of strength I had. I saw no need to waist energy talking, or screaming.
As I sat there in the wonderful warm water, I began to notice that the contractions were beginning to be somewhat painful. At the beginning of each contraction it felt like a martial arts expert was kicking me in my lower back as hard as they could. Every fifteen minutes, another kick in my lower back. I began to get restless, I needed to move.
When I walked back into the delivery room, my husband was relaxing in my bed. This was no trouble because I wouldn't be needing it for a while. My mother and I took a walk. As we were strolling through the halls we heard a woman screaming in pain. I felt a sudden thrill of panic shoot up my spine. I reminded myself that above all I must remain calm and focused. Once I calmed down a little I realized that it was just another contraction. Then as we walked by another room, and we heard the cry of a new born baby. The lullaby began to play over the intercom. Walking down this hall felt like walking into my own future.
We went back to the room. I spent some time on the birthing ball. The nurses took measurements every so often, and I was still not very far along, but the pain from the contractions was really beginning to bother me, and the breaks in between each contraction were still getting closer, and closer. I needed something for the pain, but I was still not willing to consent to the epidural. I didn't like the thought of being immobile. Then we heard the lullaby again. I thought to myself I am next. The two women who had arrived before me had their babies, and I would be next. I was wrong.
Since it was after hours, we entered through the emergency entrance, as we had been instructed during our preregistration, and tour a few months earlier.
We were waiting at the registration desk, when we met my nurse for the evening. Her name was Serenity. Isn't that the perfect name for a nurse who cares for women in labor? She led us to a small room, and then took some measurements. Still not much progress.
Serenity suggested that we take a walk around the hospital while we waited to find the bathrooms, and cafeteria, and she would take more measurements in an hour. If I was progressing by that time, I would be moved into a birthing room.
We found the cafeteria, and my husband, and mother, got a few snacks. I got some water, and while they eat I did laps around the cafeteria. Soon we heard the voices of my in-laws. They made it. I could tell that my husband was very happy to see them. Soon it was time for me to go back for more measurements. After these measurements, Serenity called my doctor, and then I was able to move into the birthing room.
My husband asked if the new deluxe room was available. It was. I was so excited. I would get the room with the private jacuzzi that I could use at anytime. Then my husband asked if there were any other women in labor. There were two other women who were getting close. They told us that we would know when they had their babies, because every time a baby is born, the hospital played a lullaby over the intercom.
We got settled into the room. I headed straight for the jacuzzi. Everyone was talking loudly in the other room, and I decided that in order to keep myself calm, and maintain my own sanity, I would have to go through with the silent birth I had planned.
I feel that I need to clarify. I did not expect everyone in the room to be silent. I was going to be silent, at least during contractions, and during the active part of labor. I was going to need every last bit of strength I had. I saw no need to waist energy talking, or screaming.
As I sat there in the wonderful warm water, I began to notice that the contractions were beginning to be somewhat painful. At the beginning of each contraction it felt like a martial arts expert was kicking me in my lower back as hard as they could. Every fifteen minutes, another kick in my lower back. I began to get restless, I needed to move.
When I walked back into the delivery room, my husband was relaxing in my bed. This was no trouble because I wouldn't be needing it for a while. My mother and I took a walk. As we were strolling through the halls we heard a woman screaming in pain. I felt a sudden thrill of panic shoot up my spine. I reminded myself that above all I must remain calm and focused. Once I calmed down a little I realized that it was just another contraction. Then as we walked by another room, and we heard the cry of a new born baby. The lullaby began to play over the intercom. Walking down this hall felt like walking into my own future.
We went back to the room. I spent some time on the birthing ball. The nurses took measurements every so often, and I was still not very far along, but the pain from the contractions was really beginning to bother me, and the breaks in between each contraction were still getting closer, and closer. I needed something for the pain, but I was still not willing to consent to the epidural. I didn't like the thought of being immobile. Then we heard the lullaby again. I thought to myself I am next. The two women who had arrived before me had their babies, and I would be next. I was wrong.
Friday, January 22, 2010
My Life as a Very Pregnant Woman
Yes, I was now wearing maternity clothing. Things were beginning to feel very real. I would be a mother soon. I felt what every mother feels. I was very excited, and scared all rolled up in the same moment. Now things started moving rapidly.
In the thirty-fifth week as my doctor was measuring my stomach, she said that we needed to schedule an ultrasound. She said the babies heart beat was strong, but she didn't seem to be growing as fast as she should. She said that at my next appointment we would take some more accurate measurements with the ultrasound, and then decide if they needed to start me early. I was nervous, but I trusted my doctor, and knew I would take her advice. Over the next week my husband and I did everything we could think of to make sure the house was ready for the baby, because she would be coming home very, very soon.
At the appointment we learned that the baby was in fact growing normally. She was fine, she was perfect. We were relieved, but a little sad that we would have to wait at least four more weeks before we would meet our little one.
Those last few weeks seemed to drag by very slowly. each appointment I would ask, "Am I even close?" My doctor would say no. I was getting really apprehensive.
Then my due date arrived. This had to be it! But no, I was wrong once again. The next day, day one as I thought of it, came and went. Followed by day two, nothing. I was beginning to wonder if I was really going to have a baby. Then came day three. A strange feeling woke me at 7:30 on a beautiful sunny Saturday morning. I knew immediately this was a contraction, and this was not false labor. This was happening. My stomach became rock hard, and turned into a tight square block of baby. I woke my husband and told him that I just had a contraction, and I thought it was real. He excitedly asked me what to do. I told him to go back to sleep, and I would wake him as soon as I had another one.
My next contraction started two hours later. The next one came two hours after that. Then one hour apart. Our families lived two hours away from us so we called our mothers to tell them that the baby was coming. This was my mothers first grandchild, she already had her things packed, and left as soon as we got off the phone. My husband has five nieces, and three nephews, so his parents knew a little bit more about these things. They calmly asked my husband to call as soon as the contractions were thirty minutes apart.
The contractions continued at one hour intervals, and my mother was there within two contractions, so she was off and running, but they were still no closer.
We talked, and went for walks, pretty soon it was 6:00 P.M.. I was starving. We got take out from one of our favorite hamburger places. It was small and locally owned, and I felt that I deserved to indulge this one last craving. I had a bacon cheese burger, with onion rings, and a chocolate milk shake.
After dinner the contractions began to get a little closer together, and by 8:00 P.M. they were coming every thirty minutes. My husband called his parents. They said they had a few things they wanted to take care of, and they would be on their way. They asked my husband to call when the contractions were fifteen minutes apart.
My contractions continued slow and steady, but they were getting closer, and at 11:30P.M. We left our home, and headed for the hospital. My husband called his parents to tell them that the contractions where fifteen minutes apart. They were on the road, and about forty-five minutes from the hospital. The song on the radio was Alanis Morissette, I forget the name, but never the words, "What it all boils down to is that everything is gonna be fine, fine, fine, cause I've got one hand in my pocket, and the other ones giving a peace sign...." How very appropriate.
In the thirty-fifth week as my doctor was measuring my stomach, she said that we needed to schedule an ultrasound. She said the babies heart beat was strong, but she didn't seem to be growing as fast as she should. She said that at my next appointment we would take some more accurate measurements with the ultrasound, and then decide if they needed to start me early. I was nervous, but I trusted my doctor, and knew I would take her advice. Over the next week my husband and I did everything we could think of to make sure the house was ready for the baby, because she would be coming home very, very soon.
At the appointment we learned that the baby was in fact growing normally. She was fine, she was perfect. We were relieved, but a little sad that we would have to wait at least four more weeks before we would meet our little one.
Those last few weeks seemed to drag by very slowly. each appointment I would ask, "Am I even close?" My doctor would say no. I was getting really apprehensive.
Then my due date arrived. This had to be it! But no, I was wrong once again. The next day, day one as I thought of it, came and went. Followed by day two, nothing. I was beginning to wonder if I was really going to have a baby. Then came day three. A strange feeling woke me at 7:30 on a beautiful sunny Saturday morning. I knew immediately this was a contraction, and this was not false labor. This was happening. My stomach became rock hard, and turned into a tight square block of baby. I woke my husband and told him that I just had a contraction, and I thought it was real. He excitedly asked me what to do. I told him to go back to sleep, and I would wake him as soon as I had another one.
My next contraction started two hours later. The next one came two hours after that. Then one hour apart. Our families lived two hours away from us so we called our mothers to tell them that the baby was coming. This was my mothers first grandchild, she already had her things packed, and left as soon as we got off the phone. My husband has five nieces, and three nephews, so his parents knew a little bit more about these things. They calmly asked my husband to call as soon as the contractions were thirty minutes apart.
The contractions continued at one hour intervals, and my mother was there within two contractions, so she was off and running, but they were still no closer.
We talked, and went for walks, pretty soon it was 6:00 P.M.. I was starving. We got take out from one of our favorite hamburger places. It was small and locally owned, and I felt that I deserved to indulge this one last craving. I had a bacon cheese burger, with onion rings, and a chocolate milk shake.
After dinner the contractions began to get a little closer together, and by 8:00 P.M. they were coming every thirty minutes. My husband called his parents. They said they had a few things they wanted to take care of, and they would be on their way. They asked my husband to call when the contractions were fifteen minutes apart.
My contractions continued slow and steady, but they were getting closer, and at 11:30P.M. We left our home, and headed for the hospital. My husband called his parents to tell them that the contractions where fifteen minutes apart. They were on the road, and about forty-five minutes from the hospital. The song on the radio was Alanis Morissette, I forget the name, but never the words, "What it all boils down to is that everything is gonna be fine, fine, fine, cause I've got one hand in my pocket, and the other ones giving a peace sign...." How very appropriate.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
My Life as a Pregnant Woman
The best way for me to organize my thoughts is to start from the beginning. Our story begins with a relatively easy pregnancy. I did have very terrible morning sickness starting in week seven, and ending with a prescription medication three weeks later. After I lost fifteen pounds, and was given the choice of medication or hospitalization.
My baby started kicking at eleven weeks, and never stopped. Since she was so active, I would become nervous if I didn't feel movement every fifteen minutes.
In my twentieth week I had a strange dream which I remember vividly. In the dream I had given birth to a beautiful baby with big eyes and jet black hair. The baby was also very fat. We brought the baby home from the hospital, and we were settling into our new lives as a family. My mother and mother-in-law were there to help my husband and I adjust to this new life. Someone called, and I was excitedly talking to them and answering all the questions they asked. Suddenly they asked me a question that I didn't know the answer to. I was stricken with panic. The question was such a simple one,"Is it a boy, or a girl?" How could I not know the answer to this question? I was the worlds worst mother. In the dream I called to my husband,"Hey Sug, is the baby a boy or a girl?" My husband had the same look of shock on his face. He had no idea. He said,"They didn't tell you before we left the hospital?" I said no. He was furious and began trying to contact the hospital, while I told the person on the phone that I would have to call them back. We were in the middle of an emergency. I hung up and ran into the baby's room I quickly picked up the baby. My mother asked what was wrong. I explained the situation with tears streaming down my face. It was at this point that my mother-in-law said, "Even if the doctor didn't tell you, you can always check." Of course! I was making this much harder than it had to be. I would just check. It was time to change the baby's diaper anyway. I took the diaper off and the baby was a little girl. I was so happy. I had a beautiful fat baby girl!
When I woke up I knew I had met my daughter. I met Miss Bebe for the first time. I was right about the eyes, and the hair, and the fact that she was a girl, so three out of four isn't too bad right?
When we went in for our appointment, and ultrasound a few days later I was not surprised to find out that we would in fact have a baby girl.
Everything moved along at a relaxed pace. I was very fortunate. As a violin teacher I am able to set my own schedule, I could take naps, and didn't even have to get out of my sweats on the hard days.
I followed all exercise, and eating recommendations. I did my prenatal yoga five times a week. Due to my husbands insane work schedule(he was on call for three years, this is not a joke, he did receive two weeks off each year) I didn't take any birthing classes. I did read lots of books, and I watched some births. I also watched A Baby Story on TLC every day. I had a birthing plan. I felt I was prepared.
As I began to show, I had an unnatural aversion to all maternity clothing. I really didn't want to wear any, and until the thirty-second week it looked like I just might make it. I like to separate my jeans into categories for various weights. I began my pregnancy in my skinny, and sexy skinny jeans. Then moved on to my normal, and sexy normal jeans in the twentieth week. By the twenty-fifth week I was wearing fat, and sexy fat jeans. Around the twenty-eight week I had to resort to my stretchy fat jeans.
Around this time I was called for jury duty. I get called all the time, sometimes under my maiden name, sometimes in states where I no longer reside. Anyway, I was called at this time. So I got dressed up, and headed for the courthouse. I looked very pregnant, and I will admit better than I ever thought possible.
Everyone checked in and we were waiting to hear what to expect. One-hundred-and-fifty people were called. They informed us that there would be two trials, and that the other two had been settled out of court. I was feeling pretty confident that I would not have to be on a jury. Twelve people were needed out of one-hundred-and-fifty. I am admittedly unlucky, but come on I was pregnant! So they split the room in half, and told my half to stay. I was still feeling lucky twelve people out of seventy-five. Then we were split in half again, one half for each trial. So now we are down to about thirty seven people in my group. There was another very pregnant woman there and we both started laughing about how they would never pick us. At least not unless they wanted to stop the trial every ten minutes between bathroom breaks.
I was the first one to be called, and the first one picked to serve on the jury. What happened to the other pregnant woman? She was also chosen. We were no longer laughing.
It was a small case, and it was all over within about four hours. In the middle we stopped for lunch, and my husband drove into town to meet me. It was really interesting to see our legal system at work. After the trial we were given the option of staying longer to talk with the judge, and the attorneys. We were all such nerds that we chose to stay. It was actually not a terrible day.
The next day on was not so great. My husband called to see if I wanted to meet him, and his father for lunch in a half hour. I, sadly, had just risen for the day, and needed to get myself put together in about ten minutes. I darted to my closet, and came to the terrible realization that the only jeans that still fit me were the ones I had worn the previous day, and they were crumpled in the laundry basket. Not only that, overnight I had also out grown all my shirts! Nothing fit! Even my shoes were tight! I fell to the floor in a defeated little ball, and cried for about ten minutes. I then knew what I had to do. I would be forced to wear my sweats outside the house, something I had never done before in my life.
When I arrived fifteen minutes late, and a wreck, my father-in-law asked why I was late. I said,"Because I'm to big for all my clothes." I then burst into tears. After lunch my husband took me to the Motherhood store. I gratefully bought a few things that really were not as bad as I thought they would be.
My baby started kicking at eleven weeks, and never stopped. Since she was so active, I would become nervous if I didn't feel movement every fifteen minutes.
In my twentieth week I had a strange dream which I remember vividly. In the dream I had given birth to a beautiful baby with big eyes and jet black hair. The baby was also very fat. We brought the baby home from the hospital, and we were settling into our new lives as a family. My mother and mother-in-law were there to help my husband and I adjust to this new life. Someone called, and I was excitedly talking to them and answering all the questions they asked. Suddenly they asked me a question that I didn't know the answer to. I was stricken with panic. The question was such a simple one,"Is it a boy, or a girl?" How could I not know the answer to this question? I was the worlds worst mother. In the dream I called to my husband,"Hey Sug, is the baby a boy or a girl?" My husband had the same look of shock on his face. He had no idea. He said,"They didn't tell you before we left the hospital?" I said no. He was furious and began trying to contact the hospital, while I told the person on the phone that I would have to call them back. We were in the middle of an emergency. I hung up and ran into the baby's room I quickly picked up the baby. My mother asked what was wrong. I explained the situation with tears streaming down my face. It was at this point that my mother-in-law said, "Even if the doctor didn't tell you, you can always check." Of course! I was making this much harder than it had to be. I would just check. It was time to change the baby's diaper anyway. I took the diaper off and the baby was a little girl. I was so happy. I had a beautiful fat baby girl!
When I woke up I knew I had met my daughter. I met Miss Bebe for the first time. I was right about the eyes, and the hair, and the fact that she was a girl, so three out of four isn't too bad right?
When we went in for our appointment, and ultrasound a few days later I was not surprised to find out that we would in fact have a baby girl.
Everything moved along at a relaxed pace. I was very fortunate. As a violin teacher I am able to set my own schedule, I could take naps, and didn't even have to get out of my sweats on the hard days.
I followed all exercise, and eating recommendations. I did my prenatal yoga five times a week. Due to my husbands insane work schedule(he was on call for three years, this is not a joke, he did receive two weeks off each year) I didn't take any birthing classes. I did read lots of books, and I watched some births. I also watched A Baby Story on TLC every day. I had a birthing plan. I felt I was prepared.
As I began to show, I had an unnatural aversion to all maternity clothing. I really didn't want to wear any, and until the thirty-second week it looked like I just might make it. I like to separate my jeans into categories for various weights. I began my pregnancy in my skinny, and sexy skinny jeans. Then moved on to my normal, and sexy normal jeans in the twentieth week. By the twenty-fifth week I was wearing fat, and sexy fat jeans. Around the twenty-eight week I had to resort to my stretchy fat jeans.
Around this time I was called for jury duty. I get called all the time, sometimes under my maiden name, sometimes in states where I no longer reside. Anyway, I was called at this time. So I got dressed up, and headed for the courthouse. I looked very pregnant, and I will admit better than I ever thought possible.
Everyone checked in and we were waiting to hear what to expect. One-hundred-and-fifty people were called. They informed us that there would be two trials, and that the other two had been settled out of court. I was feeling pretty confident that I would not have to be on a jury. Twelve people were needed out of one-hundred-and-fifty. I am admittedly unlucky, but come on I was pregnant! So they split the room in half, and told my half to stay. I was still feeling lucky twelve people out of seventy-five. Then we were split in half again, one half for each trial. So now we are down to about thirty seven people in my group. There was another very pregnant woman there and we both started laughing about how they would never pick us. At least not unless they wanted to stop the trial every ten minutes between bathroom breaks.
I was the first one to be called, and the first one picked to serve on the jury. What happened to the other pregnant woman? She was also chosen. We were no longer laughing.
It was a small case, and it was all over within about four hours. In the middle we stopped for lunch, and my husband drove into town to meet me. It was really interesting to see our legal system at work. After the trial we were given the option of staying longer to talk with the judge, and the attorneys. We were all such nerds that we chose to stay. It was actually not a terrible day.
The next day on was not so great. My husband called to see if I wanted to meet him, and his father for lunch in a half hour. I, sadly, had just risen for the day, and needed to get myself put together in about ten minutes. I darted to my closet, and came to the terrible realization that the only jeans that still fit me were the ones I had worn the previous day, and they were crumpled in the laundry basket. Not only that, overnight I had also out grown all my shirts! Nothing fit! Even my shoes were tight! I fell to the floor in a defeated little ball, and cried for about ten minutes. I then knew what I had to do. I would be forced to wear my sweats outside the house, something I had never done before in my life.
When I arrived fifteen minutes late, and a wreck, my father-in-law asked why I was late. I said,"Because I'm to big for all my clothes." I then burst into tears. After lunch my husband took me to the Motherhood store. I gratefully bought a few things that really were not as bad as I thought they would be.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
My Obsession
My daughter is very underweight. When I say very underweight I am talking off the charts small. She is currently twenty-one months old,and she is tipping the scales at a shocking nineteen pounds. You might be wondering what percentile she is in. Well the title of this blog gives the answer. She is below the first percentile. She has fallen off of the charts. She is in a strange no baby's land. I think of it this way if you were to line up one hundred twenty-one month old children all of them would weigh more than my child, and ninety-eight of them would be taller.
She has spent a good deal of her life in doctors offices being weighed. As her new doctor said,"I have never seen a chart this big for such a healthy small child. The chart weighs more than kid!" And as the title of this post suggests I am completely obsessed with her weight problem. It consumes me. Some days I sit and think of ways to increase the quantity of food, or the caloric content of the food. In the grocery store I check every label, but instead of choosing the items lowest in calories, I find the ones highest. I have feeding charts that look like they were put together by a mad scientist. I count every ounce of milk that enters her body. Still she remains off the charts.
So I am writing this blog in an attempt to find other mothers like me. To find out if anyone knows any tricks, or tips(that I haven't already tried). If anyone else has been plagued by this problem, and made it to the other side(by which I mean that glorious first percentile) with their sanity still in tact!
She has spent a good deal of her life in doctors offices being weighed. As her new doctor said,"I have never seen a chart this big for such a healthy small child. The chart weighs more than kid!" And as the title of this post suggests I am completely obsessed with her weight problem. It consumes me. Some days I sit and think of ways to increase the quantity of food, or the caloric content of the food. In the grocery store I check every label, but instead of choosing the items lowest in calories, I find the ones highest. I have feeding charts that look like they were put together by a mad scientist. I count every ounce of milk that enters her body. Still she remains off the charts.
So I am writing this blog in an attempt to find other mothers like me. To find out if anyone knows any tricks, or tips(that I haven't already tried). If anyone else has been plagued by this problem, and made it to the other side(by which I mean that glorious first percentile) with their sanity still in tact!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
