Monday, 11 July 2016

I'm a Mom!!!

June 11, 2016

I'm not sure if I was technically a mom during pregnancy, but either way, I've been a mom for a little bit, and haven't updated the blog world. I'll try to catch up on my life in the past few months.

I had a baby boy on May 18th at 7:24 pm. He was 6 pounds, 3 ounces.

Birth didn't go smoothly. I was induced early because of my gestational diabetes. At 39 weeks, they induced me. It started on May 17th at around 10:30 in the morning.

They monitored his heart rate after I was induced.

We waited around for most of the day hoping I wouldn't have to be induced again in the morning if it didn't work. By 8 p.m., I was getting mild contractions, but still wasn't feeling bad. This is Clint and I after my parents came to visit. We had just opened a package from his parents. It included a quilt his grandma made for him years ago for his first baby.

I sent Clint home for the night because I was worried about Drogo. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be giving birth while he was gone.

The contractions started getting more painful during the night. It's safe to say, I didn't get a lot of sleep. I tried to keep track of them, but was half sleeping and half in pain.

At around 5, I texted Clint to ask when he was heading in. Around 6 or 7, I suggested that he come in soon. Not because I thought I was going to give birth, but because I was uncomfortable, and in pain, and I wanted him with me. Before he got there, I puked and pooped a lot while having contractions. Too much information? Well, this is my story.

When Clint got there, I asked him to ask the nurses if I could have a bath to feel better. For some reason I was shy to tell them I was in pain. I just wanted him there, I guess. After the bath, my doctor checked to see if I was dilated. By the way - cervix checks: not fun and not comfortable. Getting the 'pill' to be induced is also not comfortable. 

I was 3 cm dilated, and ready to be sent to labour and delivery - as soon as they got a bed for me. I spent the time trying to sleep or breathing through contractions. Clint helped A LOT. He reminded me to breathe when I forgot to. Which was frequently. They finally wheeled me into the labour side of the doors (in a wheel chair because I had no idea how they expected me to walk.)

Edit: When the nurse came to tell me they were ready for me, and she could take me to the room, I seriously, just thought they'd wheel the bed to the room. I had to ask her how she wanted me to get there because I couldn't figure out how I'd be able to make it. Maybe I could have walked, but at that point, I didn't think I could. It seems as though women must.

At this point, I was not able to have conversations. The contractions were exhausting. Clint had taken over my phone to update anybody who called or texted or messaged. Anything that happened was done while I was having contractions. Like getting IVs put in. I had them in either hand, and they had to try more than once to get them to work.

I asked for an epidural as soon as I got in there, and received one quickly. For those of you against epidurals: to each their own. I wasn't able to have a conversation or get more than three words out until I received it. I have no regrets about my decision. 

Finally able to smile.
 My next cervix check was no pain at all. I first thought it was because the student doctor was REALLY good at his job, but then realised it was the epidural. At that point (about 12:30), I was at 10cm. I was ready. My water broke at the next check (with a bit of a nudge), and I was ready to give birth. 

However, my little boy was not ready to come out. He was still high up, and not really moving down at all. His heart rate also lowered with every contraction I had. It was scary. 

After waiting most of the day, we finally did some practise pushes when his head didn't lower, and the heart rate kept dropping. It didn't work, and they suggested a c-section. I wanted him out safely, so I said yes.

I was scared. It is a surgery, and they're scary. No matter what. I asked Clint to call my parents and his because I wanted them to know before I went in, just in case anything happened.

Edit: To be completely honest, I wanted Clint to phone them because I was worried the worst case scenario could happen. I didn't want to die, and not have them know what was happening. To be clear, I didn't think I would die, but it was surgery, and I needed to be ready for anything.

Edit: I had plans for delivery. Anthony was going to be pushed into the world with 90s music playing on my phone in the background, and with me cracking jokes or singing to the 90s music. It didn't work out that way. (I probably still cracked jokes). I don't care that I had a c-section. In fact, I'm okay that I never have to push a baby out of my body. I know that's not how most women think, but I'm okay with that. I wanted my baby with me, no matter what.)

They prepped me for the surgery, and put a sheet up over me. I was awake through the whole thing, and it was interesting. I could feel them touching my stomach, but there was no pain. I could hear them talking, and I could hear my heart rate. Clint was with me the whole time, holding my shaking arms.

Edit: The heart rate thing? Goes back to me having the idea of death in the back of my head. When I realised it was MY heart rate I was listening to, the first thought I had was: I'll be able to hear my heart rate drop if something goes wrong. Luckily, the epidural stopped me from being too nervous. Also, it's a c-section. They do them ALL the time. 

Doing the c-section was the correct call. Anthony's head was stuck. Really stuck, I could hear them trying to 'pop' it out.

It took about 15 minutes to get him out (at 7:24pm), and another 15 to sew me up. During that time, they checked Anthony out, and finally they brought him to me while they worked on me.

I cried when they put him in my arm. Well, tears fell from my eyes. I was really happy to finally meet him, and glad he arrived safely.

I finally got some skin to skin time when we were both taken to recovery.
My parents and sister came to meet him while we were in recovery. It was a short visit, but that was good, we needed time with our baby.

We spent a few days in the hospital, and then were sent home to fend for ourselves. 

I'll do another post for his first month. I think birth should be a post of its own.

Here are some pictures from our days in the hospital before we were released. 

Clint's bed for the night.
Day one with my baby.
So in love with the little guy.

Day Two: 

Released on Day 2 after Anthony was born.

More later. I've got lots of stories already about our life so far.

Thanks for reading.

"Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year."
Ralph Waldo Emerson

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  1. I love birth stories! Puke and poop and all! Thanks for sharing!!