The Birth of Katrina

December 13, 2007 by · 4 Comments
Filed under: Gestational Diabetes, Give me a C (section) 

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My special day started on 1/11/07 at 4:30 a.m.  I went to sleep the previous night for maybe 3 hours.  I was so nervous about the next day.  My husband was up all night and was really scared of being a dad.  We then got ready and he drove me to UMC. I walked to the Labor and delivery unit where they were expecting me.

I was told that we were going to have a scheduled Cesarean section due to the fact that I was seven days overdue and had gestational diabetes. I had only dilated to 2 centimeters and was 100 percent effaced. They told me to show up at the hospital two hours prior to the surgery, which was scheduled to be done at 7:30 a.m.

I showed up and they allowed me to change and inserted the IV. They then came in and advised me how things were going to proceed.

The attending nurse then came in and made me drink the most awful salty stuff that was to prevent me from getting nauseated during the procedure.

They shaved me, inserted the catheter and went over some of the events that were to follow. The anesthesiologist came in and introduced herself and went over with me how the spinal was going to go.  She was awesome.  7:30 rolled around and still no doctor was there. I started getting butterflies in my tummy and wanted to see my daughter. 8 a.m. rolled by, 8:30 rolled by and the doctor finally showed up. I was told he had another emergency C-section to do at another local hospital.

Now that everyone was there and I was prepped, the day started.

I was allowed to walk to the operating room. I then sat on the operating table as the anesthesiologist prepped me for the spinal block.  I was at this point sitting half naked in a room full of strangers. It was an embarrassing moment for me. A nurse came to my front side and had me hunch my back so they could do it right.  It didn't hurt and I handled it better than I thought I would.  The feeling of it was just a little pinch; and I feel that I was one of the more lucky ones. I have heard horror stories of the spinal going completely wrong.

I then felt my legs become very heavy and I couldn't move.   That's when a nurse came around and helped me get my legs up before I lost all control of them.  The nurse then draped the curtain over me and I was smiling and chatting up a storm with the anesthesiologist while she monitored my vitals. Once I was all on board they then tied my arms down which was not very comfortable.  I felt very nauseated all of a sudden and I told them that. They put oxygen on me and that helped until I felt the sudden urge to throw up.  That is one of the hardest things to do, throwing up while lying down.

The doctors were doing their thing and things were going very smoothly.

I felt a bunch of tugging and pulling. The doctor then told me that there was going to be a lot of pressure and all of sudden someone was pushing really hard on my tummy. All I heard was, "Here she comes. Here she comes." Then, dead silence.   That's when things got a little nervous for me. Finally I heard Katrina May cry her head off.

Everyone in the room was laughing and happy. I was so happy. There are no words to describe the feeling of hearing your baby for the first time.

The doctor then brought her around after being cleaned and weighed. She was so beautiful. She opened her little eyes and looked so tired after a tough journey. The doctor yelled that she was 9 pounds, 10 ounces and was 21 ½ inches long. She had a full head of black hair and beautiful blue eyes.

The doctors took her to the nursery and wheeled me to the recovery room. I was there for two very long hours. I wanted to see my daughter.  After about 30 mins they brought her to me.  I was so drugged though that I was having a tough time trying to breastfeed her. They then took her away and I went to my own private room. They brought her back in periodically throughout the day. That night I was able to feed her and change her diaper.

The next day at 9 in the morning I was told that she was taken to the NICU overnight because she was literally turning blue when she cried really hard. I then started crying.  I was asking myself if it was something that I had done.  Was it something that could have been prevented?  The next four days went by so slowly.  They proceeded to do countless procedures.  They stuck a tube down her nose to make sure that her esophagus was straight and that there was nothing blocking it. Apparently she had what they call a stryker, where the tube collapsed whenever she tried to take a deep breath.

She was in NICU for the next 4 days.  I, however, was recovering very fast for my daughters sake.  In order to go and see her, I had to walk from my room on the 7th floor to the NICU which was on the 8th floor.  So all the walking that the nurses suggested was definitely done. I had a really bad burning sensation on my skin and felt like my insides were going to fall out.

Whenever I went to the NICU I wanted to cry, my daughter was hooked up to all these tubes and monitors.  I know that they were for her own good, but I wanted to take her away from there and run away.

But other than that the people at UMC in Tucson, AZ, were awesome.

Beanbag

I was able to go home with my daughter on the 15th of January. I will never forget that day. It was the best day of my life.  Now my husband and I are expecting our son in late April of 2008 and Katrina is healthy and a month away from being one year old.

You can read more about Jessica here.

The Birth of Althea Raye

May 16, 2007 by · Leave a Comment
Filed under: Give me a C (section) 

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My original due date was 10/1/05.  I was home from work for a month already. I was huge. I was in pain. I was so DONE being pregnant. I could barely walk, my feet were swollen, my sciatic nerve was throbbing, and I was petrified! I was so scared of giving birth. I walked (waddled) around like a ticking time bomb, I could go off at any second! 

Every time I felt a twinge in my stomach (which was every day at that point) I would let out a deep sigh, my husband would jump off the couch…."Are you ok?!?!?!" I would look at him in fear….."I guess so".  My doctor told me from the very beginning that I was probably going to go early, hence why they moved my date up a week. He thought maybe even earlier than that. I had a big baby, they said, and she’s already head down in the blastoff position!

Meanwhile….here it was my due date and nothing! I was going to the doctor once a week, and he would do an internal (which at this point I started to welcome, thinking maybe he would move things along) and every time he would say the same thing…."Nope, she’s WAY up there….she don’t wanna come out!" He would add: You’re the perfect incubator! “GREAT” I thought, but I promise I’ll be a better MOM so tell her to GET OUT! 

On my due date they did a non-stress test and an ultrasound.   After the ultrasound the doctor came in, did the exam, and gave me the spiel: You got a big baby in there, especially for your size. (I’m 5’1") She’s fine in there, but I’m not sure you’re going to be able to deliver her naturally. One more week, and she’ll hit 9lbs, no problem! I think she’s not dropping because she can’t fit. If I induce you, you’ll probably labor all day and we’d still end up with a c-section anyway. So let’s just cut to the chase, we’ll do an appointment c-section, and go and get her.

We made an appointment. On my mother’s birthday 10/7/05 5:00pm, be there at 3:30 pm, I was gonna have a baby.

Friday was the longest day of my life. I sat at home…..alone…..trying to come to terms with the fact that I was going to be someone’s mommy by the end of the day! My husband came home early. I was freaking out. I was worried about getting the local and being numb and just the WHOLE THING. I had too much time to think about it. I think sometimes it’s better if it just HAPPENS.

We got to the hospital at 2:50 pm. They wheeled me up, and gave me a gown and my husband scrubs and stationed us in a room that looked like a closet with a bed, a TV, and a shared bathroom. We sat in that room for four hours! In the first hour I got an IV, and they shaved me (nice, right?) and asked me some questions, but after that we just sat there.

Apparently there were other c-sections, EMERGENCY c-sections that needed to go first. I was petrified. I wanted to be like, "Ummmm ya know what? I think I’m just gonna go home….never mind. I’ll be fine!" Everyone kept calling and asking if there was a baby, we kept saying…NO! My parents and Mike’s mother had been in the waiting room now for five hours! But the Yankee Game was on and it was the playoffs, so it kept us entertained.

I was having some pain, but I was having false labor for the past week, so no big deal. I was hooked up to the fetal monitor, and I started to realize…..ummmmm I’m having contractions!! They were very early contractions…but STILL!! The nurse came in and with a huge smile…I said "I’m having contractions!!!!!! Does that mean something?!?!?!" She looked at me like…..THOSE little teeny contractions are NOT CONTRACTIONS!!! You’re still going in for the section.

Finally at about 8pm, they brought me in. Alone. Without my husband. He wasn’t allowed in until I was all set up and numb. I remember thinking the table was so narrow. It was like the width of a weight bench, it didn’t look comfortable at all. Have they looked at the size of my ass?? It was also in the shape of a "t" so my arms could stay straight out on either side. I made all the nurses promise me that they wouldn’t tie me down. I heard they did that. They said as long as I didn’t move….they wouldn’t tie me….DEAL!

I got the needle in my back. It hurt but not as much as I thought it was going to. I forced the nurse to hold my hand (I’m such a baby). As I laid down my legs already started to get numb. It wasn’t as freaky as I thought, there was too much other stuff going on. While they were hooking me all up, they let my husband in. They sat him in a chair next to me, and he held my hand and asked me if I was ok. Now that he was there, I was. There were two doctors. One was my regular OB and the other I never met.

They started. I didn’t even feel it. My husband was trying to distract me so I wouldn’t pay attention, reminding me to breath. I was listening to the nurses and doctors. I heard them say they needed to make the incision bigger. Then they were talking about her being so big. My doctor told me they were going to push a little on my stomach to try and get her out. The nurse started pushing….nothing. Then both nurses started pushing….still nothing.

I was having trouble breathing, because they were pushing on my diaphragm. One doctor and two nurses are now JUMPING on my stomach trying to get her out. I see my husband’s eyes get real wide. I keep asking what the problem is. He gives me a fake smile and says nothing. (Turns out both my heart rate and the baby’s started to go down, and he could see it on the monitor behind me). I was coughing and coughing cause of all the pushing…it hurt, but because of the numbness it’s a weird type of hurt. Finally I feel some pressure and moving around in there….and she comes out. *SIGH OF RELIEF*. The nurse says to me and I quote: "I think you just gave birth to a toddler!"

She was 8lbs 13oz and 20.8 inches long and she wasn’t born until 9:03 pm. They wrapped her up and gave her to her daddy. Her face was all swollen, but she was adorable! She looked like my grandfather! LOL Her eyes were wide open and she was moving her head around like five minutes after she was born! I couldn’t hold her until they were done closing me up, but daddy was holding her and showed her to me. Then they took her into the nursery, and daddy went with her. Then I laid there while they put me back together. Finally they rolled me into recovery; my husband came back in without the baby.

My parents and my mother in law came up to see me in recovery. My husband brought them to see the baby through the window, meanwhile I’ve still yet to hold her. That part sucked! I didn’t get to hold her till almost midnight, and she was born at 9pm. There were no rooms (it was a busy night) and they couldn’t bring the baby into recovery. Finally when I did get a room it ended up being a private one (so it was kinda worth it…kinda). Finally when they did bring her in all I kept thinking was WOW, this perfect little baby was inside of me! Crazy!

My husband stayed over that night on a fold out couch thingy. The nurses came in and bothered me like every 5 minutes…so there was no sleep that night. Then the next night….he went home to deal with the 6 inches of water in our basement (on no sleep whatsoever) because it not only rains on every special occasion we have but it POURS!

Anyway, the second night I was alone. And truthfully it was nice. They brought her in to me every three hours to eat (or to attempt to breastfeed even though my milk didn’t really totally come in yet…ya know back in the first day or two when breastfeeding was easy and you thought – pssshaaw this is no big deal!). And those middle of the night times were amazing. It was just me and her in there and she was always wrapped up tight with her little head sticking out the top, eyes always wide open looking at me.

She was perfect! Still is!

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Jenn is a proud, now expecting number two, Mom who details her adventures at Maniacal Days.  When she’s not there, she’s hashing it out with her husband at Dad Says, Mom Says. 

The Birth of Kyle

July 31, 2006 by · 1 Comment
Filed under: Give me a C (section) 

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Kyle was long-awaited. It wasn’t because we had a hard time getting pregnant;
but because we waited for several years before we fully decided
that we wanted to add another child to our family. So we decided
to have another baby, got pregnant, and lost that baby. Due to some
other circumstances in our lives, we didn’t try to get pregnant right
away. Once pregnant, I had a fairly easy pregnancy; although at 33, it wasn’t as easy
as it was at 27 with Amanda. Kyle kept us on our toes even before
his birth. At 35 weeks, I was 3 centimeters dilated, making me uncertain
about how or when he was going to come. By 37 weeks, I was 4
centimeters dilated; and he was born at 38 weeks, just like his sister.

I
was at my friend Richele’s house. Our girls were having a playdate, and
we were having lunch. We were sitting and chatting, when my water broke. I
stood up and told Richele what happened. She was excited to be a part
of the big day, but then she said, "Jen, there’s some blood." In fact,
there was a good deal of fluid and blood. I went to the bathroom, and
changed into some of her maternity panties that she still had on hand
from her recent pregnancy. She offered to call Terry, and told him to
meet us at the hospital. I wrapped a towel around my waist and drove my
car the half mile to my house so that I could grab my hospital bag and
change into a new pair of shorts while Richele loaded up her infant and
our two girls into her car and came to get me.

On
the way to the hospital, she suggested that I call my doctor. Since the
doctor’s office is right across the hall from maternity at
the hospital, they don’t really require a call because the nurses will
alert them. Richele said that I should just call them and let them know
that my water broke and that there was some blood, so I did. I also
called a friend and told her we were on our way and asked her to pray.
I was feeling okay at this point, but was having some contractions in my
back. As we neared the hospital, Richele asked if I wanted her to park
and help me in. I knew that getting her infant in, and keeping
track of our rambunctious 5-year-old daughters would be enough for her
to manage without trying to "help" me.  So I told her to drop me at the
front door, and I would go up while she parked and unloaded. I walked
the short distance to the elevator and took it to the 2nd floor. The
nurse was a little incredulous at this whole scene. She had my file
ready and took me to the examination/labor room. She was a little
concerned about the amount of blood there was. The doctor came
quickly from across the hall and was evaluating me and Kyle. I was 7 cm
dilated. He asked me if I was having contractions, and I said that my
back sort of hurt, but that was it. I was apparently in full labor.

He
was going over the options when Terry arrived. He said that the baby
seemed to be doing okay, but we had to keep an eye on things. If my
labor continued to progress quickly, and the baby didn’t seem to be in
distress, then I could probably deliver naturally. If he became
distressed, then we’d have to do a C-section right away. I don’t think
that the doctor ever left my side, and when Kyle’s heartbeat shot up,
he gave the order to do a C-section "Now!" I was put under general
anesthesia because it was the fastest, and wheeled out of the room.
Terry had to wait until after the baby was born, because I was under
general and they didn’t allow others in the room in this situation.

Poor
Terry will never forget the site of me with my guts out, and his first
sight of his new son, blue from lack of oxygen. Kyle had to be
resuscitated, but did not suffer any damage due to the lack of oxygen.  He
was born just in time.  While I was coming out from the anesthesia, the
doctor filled Terry in on all that had happened.  Apparently my
placenta had torn away from the uterine wall, compromising oxygen flow
to the baby.  The doctor said that a matter of minutes could have meant
a tragic difference in results.  I am thankful for so many things about
that day:  the doctor’s wisdom in how to proceed and skill in getting
Kyle out quickly, the fact that the hospital was less than twenty
minutes from our home, the fact that I was already at a good friend’s
home and didn’t have to think about who to call and what to do with
Amanda, the fact that it was during the daytime while the doctors were
all in their offices across the hall, and not in the middle of the
night when one would have had to be paged to come in.

I
woke up with my sweet, slightly shaken husband leaning over me,
looking lovingly into my eyes, and holding my hand.  I was not able to
see Kyle right away, because he was hooked up to fluids and they wanted to
monitor him in the nursery for 24 hours.   Because I had just had a
C-section, and was hooked up to some fluids of my own, I was confined to bed.
When there was a shift change in the infant nursery, a woman I will
always remember came in and said, "I heard that you haven’t been able
to see your baby yet; is that true?"  I said that it was, and she said,
"Let me go get him, but we have to be quick before the doctor checks
back in."  So, six or eight hours after he was born, I got to hold my
newest little miracle.

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I don’t know if he’s so dear to me
because he’s my last child, or my first boy, or so sweet-tempered
(unless he’s just being ill-tempered, but he’s definitely one or the
other).  It might have something to do with the fact that a matter of
minutes could have changed his fate, and ours.  But we love him. . . a
lot.

Jennifer, a SAHM, blogs at Snapshot about
her faith and her family (including Kyle’s big sister Amanda).  She
posts daily about her interests, which include reading, family life,
scripture study and application and blogging–lots of blogging. 
http://www.jennifersnapshot.blogspot.com/