Tuesday, July 24, 2012

"Tales from Labor and Delivery" or "Drugs are good. Very good."

There are two things I could be doing right now. Writing thank you's or blogging.  I choose blogging, so if I owe you a thank you (and I probably do) it'll be coming. Just as soon as I blog.

I'm not going to make this your usual Labor and Delivery post. It'll be a bit more lighthearted (which is really what it was for us).

Let's start with Thursday (the 12th).  We had an ultrasound and stress test scheduled just to make sure things were going fine in there and that Mister Miss Fartlepants was still on schedule. The plan after the appointment was to go back to the doctor on the 16th and schedule an induction date.

The ultrasound came out a-ok.  Baby was measuring at 9 pounds, 6 ounces (um, that's ALOT) and there was still plenty of amniotic fluid.  They were ready to send us home until I mentioned the doctor also told us she wanted a NST.  They didn't have an order for it, but the nurse (who had been pushing - pun may or may not be intended - for us to be induced) said she had an opening and would hook us up.

Roughly an hour, one Capri Sun, and four peanut butter crackers later, the doctor on call (Doctor Friday was out of town at a horse show) decided we'd be induced later that evening as the baby wasn't responding well to the stimulation and really didn't need to cook any longer. We were told we'd be called later in the day with a check in time for that evening.

So C and I headed home (but stopped at Chick-fil-A first) for our last few hours without a baby.  We cleaned up the house (as company would be coming after the baby was born) and had Donatos for our last supper. Then at 7:30 p.m. we loaded up in the car and headed back to Mount Carmel to have ourselves a baby.

Once we were all checked into Delivery Room #5 and admitted (a process that took hours - not kidding), we settled in for an evening of t.v. (Sports Night) while the induction process of Cervidil and some sort of foley catheter device started.  Then around 1:00 am they brought me Ambien (unfortunately Charles did not get one).

I was out like a light while C nervously watched the heart monitor for hours (looking back he wishes he would have slept then as well).  I woke occasionally to let him know that there were people sitting on the other end of the room eating and watching us and that I was "dreaming of cities made of wicker baskets".

I now have a deeper understanding and appreciation for Jen Lancaster's late night Ambien tales.

Ambien is good.

At this point I lost all concept of time.  At some point in the early morning (maybe 5-ish) Doctor #3 (the doctor on call who was to deliver the baby) came in and broke my water.  Pitocin was also administered, but the baby didn't seem to like that and kept lowering her heart rate, so that was stopped. I felt contractions for roughly an hour or two and then the epidural god stopped by and took all the pain away. From there it was smooth sailing. I honestly don't remember what we did from that point until pushing.

Next thing I knew, I was being woken up around 1:00 p.m. or 2:00 p.m. and told to push. They wanted to see how the baby would respond.  I was super tired and didn't really feel like pushing. I got one or two pushes done and it turns out the baby didn't feel like pushing either as her heart rate again dropped, so they decided to let us "deliver down" which I guess is just letting her make her own way down the birth canal.

Once she was delivered down enough the nurses decided it was time to push and called Doctor #3, who was in surgery for the next hour.  They decided to wait until she was done, but then another doctor, Doctor #4 (also known as Doctor Green) took a look at things and said he'd deliver us then.

After 20 minutes of pushing (I wasn't sure I was pushing, but apparently I was) and trying to hold my numb and dead-to-the-world legs up we had our little Monkey (she shall henceforth be known as "Monkey" - both in real life and the blog - because she's a little monkey) and were completely smitten.

And she wasn't 9 pounds, 6 ounces, she was thankfully 7 pounds, 11 ounces (we would have taken her either way).

While labor and delivery was quite painless, it turns out the days afterwards are not. I remember one trip to the bathroom at the hospital and commenting to C (as he helped me pull up my grannie-panties) that I'm sure this is what he had in mind when he proposed 6 years ago.  He said it was exactly what he had in mind.

Daddy and Monkey getting to know each other. 

Since then we've been settling in at home, loving her up (I think I've kissed her more that I've kissed C), working on an evening sleep schedule (more for us than Monkey) and also trying to figure out nursing. Turns out our baby doesn't suck (literally).  Something about her tongue going back when she latches on.  So we've gone to strictly pumping since last Thursday (while I heal) and trying to get her to latch starting today. Then we'll go back to the Lactation Consultant for visit number three later this week and try to get her to effectively suck (she does take a bottle just fine).  So aside from praying that we can get nursing straightened out (it's looking like it's a 50-50 chance) we're all doing quite well.

Oh, and it turns out Monkey is living up to the Mister Fartlepants name as she is constantly farting (smelly farts too).

Now I'm off to enter myself in the County Fair for milk pumping.

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