Everything you wanted to know about labor (but were too afraid to ask...)

This blog was promised two weeks ago, and I figure I better write about the birthing experience before I forgot about it. I’m just kidding, I’ll never forget it. Ever.

I was 31 weeks along. Andy and I had just picked out the paint colors for the nursery. We would be painting the next weekend. I was just about to put on some shoes to take Butters for a walk that Monday afternoon. My water broke in one of those Hollywood ways... you know, you are standing there and then there is a gush. Luckily I was at home.  I kept asking myself, "wait, is that? did I? I don't even?"  I didn’t know what to do. instinct told me to call my mom.

"Hi, mom... uh... don’t read too deep into this... but how can you tell when your water breaks?"

 She laughed a bit at first, but the realized I was serious and tells me to go to the hospital.  I call Andy and ask him to come and get me

 "Now?" 

"Yes now! What are you doing that’s more important?!"

 He came to get me and in just a few minutes we were at the birthing center.  I told one of the nurses that my water broke and I am only 31 weeks along.  She asked if I was sure. Yeah. Pretty sure. She wanted to know if I had a sample of it she could smell. Umm...gross.  I guess that’s how they can tell if it’s amniotic fluid or just urine.  After a mildly disgusting undie sniff test (seriously, that's the part I can't let go of) they hooked me up to a bunch of machines that track the contractions and the baby’s heart rate. They waited only to discover my water had broken, but labor wasn't happening. I was having no contractions. I was only .5 cm dilated and had not progressed in two hours. It was like he had just popped the bubble and was sitting there.  They told me they had 24 hours to get the baby out before infections become and issue. However, they were going to have to prolong the labor as much as they could, because his lungs were not fully developed yet. They really needed to push the 24 hours mark as long as they could. They gave me an IV drug to start contractions.  Since the baby was so early, they gave me a steroid shot to help the baby’s lungs develop AND an IV antibiotic for infection because they didn’t get a chance to test for strep (something they test for at 37 weeks).  So about a dozen pokes and stabs later, the IV is in and the drugs are started.   My OB makes a short visit and informs me that she probably won't deliver the baby and it will be the OB on call. A total stranger.  She prescribes an Ambian to help me fall asleep. Thank God.

The next morning I wake up feeling no closer to delivering then I did the day before.  Nurses walked in and out all day, checking monitors and my vitals.  It was mostly boring day. I felt ridiculous even lying in bed when I felt fine. I got for a walk a few times, and they have already placed an incubator unit outside my door. I instantly hated it and felt like I had failed my son, and a machine was going to have to finish what I started. 
Dinner time came and I remember really looking forward to a chef salad with a chocolate shake (hello? still pregnant) The nurse brought in the food and said, "Sorry. The doctor ordered no more food, but the cafeteria already made it, so this is for your husband."  Andy got a really happy look on his face that was quickly wiped off from the look on mine. We had a laugh about it while he was eating it, but I'm sure he could feel the heat from my burning eyes.   Finally I start to feel contraction that are slightly painful.  About every 5 minutes I had to stop the conversations and do some deep breathing.  Each time my mom asks me "Are you having a contraction?"  Finally I snapped at her,

"If I’m breathing hard and I stop talking it’s PROBABLY a contraction!"  I feel bad about it now...

Okay so fast forward... they give me a drug to help take the edge off the contractions.  Turns out it takes the edge off everything, even what you are talking about.  I go slightly crazy and begin discussing how you never see Fozi bear anymore and how expensive chicken nuggets are.  The next thing I know, there is a nurse in the room giving me oxygen and I’m slipping in and out of consciousness. The cord had slipped around the baby's neck, but he had managed to free himself.  Whoa.
While I'm half spacing out on drugs and oxygen, the NICU doctor decides to introduce himself. I could only half understand what he was saying, but I remember thinking he seemed nice and he only said my baby would be small. Maybe 2 or 3 pounds. It wasn't until later I learned that he pulled my husband aside and said, "I don't think your wife understands how serious this is. The baby will not be breathing, there can be brain damage and infections, ruptured intestines... We can't know until the baby is born." My sweet husband decided that was information I didn't need to hear in my delusional state.

Now, when someone checks your cervix, it’s a real shock.  I’m sure that most of you do not know this but when a doctor checks your cervix to see how dilated you are they basically shove their entire hand up inside you. Imagine! a complete stranger fisting you! I know! You didn’t see that one coming! Very Very painful. And they check it every freaking hour! I swear! My birthing book really sugar coated that one. 

I kept nodding off and the extra oxygen is relaxing me, I think... hey, I can do this...  I fall asleep again...

At 12:30 in the morning I wake up in a ton of pain and some nurses starting to prep my room. Somehow they know it was time before I did.  The bed comes apart in pieces and no longer resembles a bed, but the scary stirrup seat that you are all aware of.  A giant lamp comes out of the ceiling and the Light of God is shining on your vagina.  At this point, I ask the nurse for an epidural. I’m ready for it and I’m in a ton of pain.  She tells me it’s too late.  I have to do it WITHOUT DRUGS.  Crap.  Now the pain is incredible. The worst pain I have ever felt in my life. I am crying, throwing up, and begging the doctors and nurses for anything... a Tylenol... something!  The doctors and nurses avoid my eye contact. I bet they have been in this situation before.

Because he was early, there were more people in my delivery room than normal. At one point, I believe I saw about ten people in the room, Andy being the only one that I recognized.  They tell me it’s time to start pushing. No. I don’t want to. It’s gonna hurt. But I started anyway.  TLC's "The Baby Story" did NOT get it right. I must have watched that show a hundred times and the mother's are always so ready and prepared and happy. But giving birth it the only time in your life when 10 strangers will watch you pee yourself, puke, crap yourself, scream bloody murder, and bleed all over everything.

I did a good job not yelling at Andy or saying anything like "You did this to me!" Instead, I just asked that he stop breathing on me.  It was 1:30 in the morning and his breath didn’t smell that great.
As far as what it looked like... sorry kids, I couldn’t tell you. I had my eyes shut almost the entire time.  At one point, the doctor told me that "He has hair!" 
"I don’t give a shit if he has hair right now." I imagined that I looked something like the girl in the exorcist movie.

36 hours of labor and 15 minutes of pushing later, out came a beautiful bundle of baby boy. They threw him on my chest long enough for me to say "Oh My God" before they whisked him away. Almost everyone (including my husband) left the room. Just the OB and a nurse stayed behind to stitch me up.  I had the foresight to request extra stitches if needed. I just barely recall the nurse joking with the OB and asking if she was "sewing a quilt".  I passed out from the pain.  Whirls of colors happened around me, and more pokes and pricks everywhere on my body. Information was given to me, but I’ll be damned if I can remember any of it. 

Someone woke me up two hours later and told me they needed to work out some of the blood in your uterus.  A nurse then begins beating you on the stomach and kneading you like bread dough... ALSO something that was not in my baby books. Then they make you pee.  I didn't want anything else coming out of there. No, I don't want to go!  I got up and stumbled to the bathroom, my center of gravity wasn't the same. She gave me some instructions on how to care for the tear that they stitched up. She then tells me that I have to eat and shower before I can go into the NICU. I realized that is the first time someone had mentioned him to me. No one even told me how much he weighed or what time he was born.  Andy came in to help me get ready for a shower. He doesn't say much about the baby, he gets teary eyed and says there are a lot of tube hooked up to him right now.  I let the hot water rush all over my body and I thought to myself... why the hell did I get pregnant? I am never doing that again. That was the worst experience of my entire life. I have never been in so much pain before.  I feel like I need to defend this statement. I was 7 months along when I went into labor. I was not ready. I was not at the point that I wanted him out. I hardly got to see the baby before they took him away. In my hormonal and irrational mind, I was still pregnant and there was no baby yet.


Showered, cleaned and fed, I am now allowed to see my baby.  I walk to the NICU and see this little guy with tubes taped everywhere. I start to cry a little. I feel like I failed him again and I instantly can’t believe how selfish I am.  In that instant, all of the pain I just went through feels like nothing, and totally worth it.  I am a mom. This little guy needs me more than anyone has ever needed me before.  I will be a mother for the rest of my life. Wow.


I finally see my original OB and NICU doctor again.  They have very happy news. My son was 5 pounds 6 ounces when he was born. His lungs were viable after 24 of ventilation, and while he had bad jaundice, that was all they could see.  Everything about my son was small but perfect. My OB joked that it was a small blessing he was early, because he probably would have been a 13 pound baby by my due date!!!  I had already been in the hospital 3 days. I had to stay 2 more days per state mandated standards, and Logan needed to stay yet another week.  I turned to my husband and asked, "So... ready to go paint that baby room?"

quick update post birth

Sorry for not updating. My brain is mush at the moment due to not getting more than 3 hours of sleep at a time. I will give you a short update. My boobs are sore, my stitches are sore, my eyes are dry.... Logan is good, doc appointment today. He came home on monday, but with a biliblanket, so hopefully that will go today. He hates bathtime and getting his diaper changed.  He startles when he hears the diaper wipe box close, but doesn’t flinch when the dog barks and howls. He was weighed yesterday and is now 5lbs. 4 oz. so he lost a little. His premie pants are too big for him and look like MC Hammer pants. Diapers are expensive and it’s frustrating/funny when you change him then HEAR him poop as soon as you lie him down.  Laundry has trippled, I don’t know how.  I constantly feel like I need to entertain him, but all he can do is sleep right now. I panic whenever he moves. ???? I don’t know why. :) Oh... and I love him so much, all I want to do is stare at him.

Logan Edward

I am happy to announce the birth of our son Logan Edward.  My water broke on Tuesday and after 30 some hours of labor, Logan was born on 03/05/08 at 1:29 the morning.  I have many comical stories on this adventure I will post about later. 

Logan is 8 weeks early, so we haven't been able to hold him much or spend more than a half hour with him at a time. He is doing very well in the NICU and I want to say thank you to everyone that sent their well wishes.

The doctors are hoping we will be able to bring him home on Monday. I am running back and forth so much between home and the hospital, I don't expect much updating (at least not every single day like before...). More photos to come and maybe a video.  They are strict with the cameras in the NICU because of prvacy and HIPPA laws, but the nurses understand, so they let us sneak a few photos.  :)

I will add more later... you know... once we have the baby room painted... 

The parenting manual

Andy and I took a Baby Basic Care class on Thursday night. It was very informative. There was info about the different ways babies look when they are born, like baby acne and rashes... Common occurrences like dry skin and swollen parts. We learned how to bathe, change, swaddle, and dress plastic dolls. hahaha.  Andy was so cute, he put the diaper on backwards. I think he was just not paying attention because it seemed a little silly to dress the doll. I mean, baby's are nothing like dolls. I did a great job swaddling the baby nice and tight, but I'm sure a REAL baby with REAL moving parts will be harder.  Still, we learned about things no one really tells you about, like not putting the infant in a car seat while wearing a snowsuit. Makes sense, right? but I bet if you don't have kids you've never heard that before. They really pushed the SIDS stuff too. I guess Marathon County has the highest rate of SIDS deaths in the state, so they really stress on it. They made it sound like half of all babies die of SIDS though... (really, there is no need to scare me, I'm scared enough!).

I had the hiccups through the entire class. The nurse teaching us laughed and said "Sounds like someone had too much to drink!" I calmly explain that I've had the hiccups since I was 5 weeks pregnant (meanwhile I'm really thinking how badly I want a beer). Everyone in the classroom make an empathetic cooing noise. She says that hiccups are extremely common, and I look around at everyone in the class and I can tell by the looks on their faces that I'm the only one that has suffered these "common consistent hiccups".  I say a silent prayer that at least they are little and I don't sound like a dying donkey.

So.. we went back to school to learn how to play with dolls and take care of babies. When we came home, we found our puppy had puked everywhere. *sigh* I guess no matter how many classes you take, you can never be prepared for life.

Dollar Store Karma

Happy Valentine's day! Love Love Love all around.

I was shopping the other day (surprising, I know ) and I was standing in line at the checkout. There was only one checkout open in the entire store, but I'm jobless and have no place to go, so I'm not in a rush...  The girl in front of me bought a bunch of glassware, so the kid needed to wrap each piece in paper and pack it...  A lady gets in line behind me, and she is your stereotypical older lady, big glasses, reeks of smoke, hackers cough... you know the type. The ones that have no sense of personal space and practically lean on you in line because they think that will make the line go faster.  Anyway... The whole time this kid is checking the girl in front of me out, this older lady is huffing and puffing *Isn't there more than one person working today?*huffhuffhuff*I can't believe they don't open another lane*huffhuffhuff* This is just ridiculous, what bad service*huffhackhackhuff* I just try to politely ignore her... the whole time wishing I could throw up because the smoke smell is so nauseating.

I should interject here and mention that I have very little patience or sympathy for this type of person.  After years of working retail (imagine Best Buy on a Black Friday) I've come to learn that the average person will only wait 30 seconds before throwing a hissy fit. Very rarely, if ever, is it the cashiers fault. Bitching does not make the line go faster either.

Back to my story.  So my basket is pretty full, and because of this lady's rudeness, I feel compelled to not let her go ahead of me even though she only has three items.  Still, I think about Karma and how there is no good reason to ever be rude to someone... and what lesson would I want to teach my child. So I offer the lady to go ahead of me. She accepts and the cashier looks at me as if to say "thankyouforgettingthisbitchouttaherefaster"  After scanning her three items, the lady looks into her purse to realize that SHE DOESN'T HAVE HER WALLET! and instead of forgetting the items like I think any sane person would have done, she asks the cashier to wait while she runs out to her car to look for it.  So the cashier and I are standing there... awkwardly looking at each other and trying not to giggle at the same time.  The lady returns and then WRITES OUT A CHECK! which takes longer to approve, but whatever. She then looks me over and makes the comment "I bet there are some other things you are sick of waiting for." I choke back a rude look and manage a fake laugh and some mumbled comment about how it feels like forever.  She then tells me "I hope you have a Valentine's Day baby!" Well, fuck lady... why don't you just call me a fatty and throw me a sandwich? I mention that the baby isn't due until the end of April. She just says "oh then a Valentine's Baby wouldn't be good" and grabs her stuff and leaves.  Finally I get to check out. While checking out, the cashier (whom seems to thinks we have developed some sort of bond) tells me all about his 18 year old cousin that knocked up his girlfriend and she is having complications and how he really screwed up his life and blah blah blah. I nod and mention that when the baby is born, he won't regret it (silver lining, right?) and he keeps on going about how fucked his cousin is... I think to myself, "I should have checked out first."

All I know, was that it took forever and I was never more happy to leave a store.

Now I know the baby room won't be done on time...

Okay... this one gets a little personal, but I don't mind sharing. I am one of those happy people that can say they personally know everyone on their friends list. Just be warned of the PG-13 factor.

Andy and I had to go to the birthing center yesterday. I was experiencing what the on-call nurse thought was a slow amniotic fluid leak, so she told us to get there to be checked out.  This is about 2:30ish in the afternoon so I call Andy at work and ask him to come and get me. I shit you not.... 10 minutes later he's at home, usually it's a 15-20 min. drive. I'm trying to calm myself down and be patient, but seriously, I was freaking out! Andy and I crack jokes to lighten the mood where Andy mentions "Crap... now you are REALLY going to start nagging me about the baby room." haha.

We get the the birthing center and check in. For anyone that hasn't been to a birthing center, it is easily the prettiest place in any hospital. And the warmest. I was sweating balls. They place me in a triage room... you know, the ones where your only privacy is a curtain.  They place their big fat sensors on your belly with rubber belts and strap you down like there is a chance you could go crazy. And then they leave you there. Forever.

Okay, it wasn't quite that bad... It just feels like it when you are anxious.  Plus I get that they need to listen to the baby's heart beat and monitor your belly for a bit to figure out what's going on. I mean, everyone was concerned and nice.  An older nurse comes in and is talking to us and asking those doctor questions... "when did you notice a leak? do you have a cold? On a scale of one to ten how bad does it hurt?" She then tells us she has to do rounds and she will be back.  I freak out a little on the inside... thinking... okay, if she's leaving, it can't be that bad... but just tell me something before you go!! She comes back about 20 minutes later and tells me that I'm having some contractions and they need to stop them.

Holy shit.

was the first thing I could think of.... Not, okay, good thing I'm in a hospital with the best post-natal care in the area... Not, oh boy! I get to see my son!... Not even, damn it Andy you did this to me!  My first thoughts as a potential mother were... "holy shit." 

So the older nurse explains to me what they are going to do... give me a shot that will feel like I'm hyped up on caffeine, check to see if I'm leaking amniotic fluid, and pump some liquids through an IV.  She then mentions we will be there for a few hours. She gets to work, slapping various parts of my body and shooting them up with medicine. (It then hits me the kind of faith we have in nurses and doctors). The shot feels like a bee sting in my thigh and within a few minutes, I'm shaking fanatically.  They then hand me a cup and tell me to pee into it... WHILE I'm shaking like a heroin junkie. Ha! She then checks my cervix to make sure it's still in tact.. I can just hear prior mom's laughing now... If you have never had your cervix checked by hand... you are in for the surprise of your life! About 4+ hours later, they release me from the hospital, telling me to be a couch potato for awhile, assuring me that I'm okay and the baby is very very healthy, but to be ready to come back again.  To sum up a long story I'm doing okay and the baby is still healthy and Andy is my knight in shining armor.

On the way home, I mention to Andy that the baby's room will never be done on time.

Puppy Paint

My puppy was so naughty last Friday. He got into my scrapbooking stuff and got ahold of my GOLD paint pen. He chewed it up on my CREAM carpet!!! It was such a mess!  I called Andy in tears because I was totally overwhelmed by the situation.  I know Andy was concerned, but sometimes I can just hear the smile on his face when he tells me that "He's just a dog." At least I can laugh about it now. The paint came out with the carpet shampooer and a little elbow grease. Butter's had gold paint on his teeth, it looked like he had a grill in. Hahaha. We got him cleaned up too. It's so hard to be angry at him for long. He knows he's being scolded because he sits with his ears down, but he can't help but wag just the tip of his tale. Naughty Puppy.