Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Logan's Birth Story

So here it is! Logan's birth story.

I went in for one of my weekly appointments when I was 38 weeks, and 4 days along. My due date was in 10 days! I was so excited, and scared, and impatient!

They took my blood pressure, like always.
The nurse mentioned it was a little higher than it should be, but didn't seem too worried.
I wasn't worried, until my doctor came in.

She took my blood pressure again, and then started talking about dates, and what needed to be done, if I was okay with being induced, making sure I wasn't having any problems, and on and on.
Then I was starting to get worried.

All of a sudden my impatience vanished.
Jamie, my sister-in-law, was getting married in 3 days, Thanksgiving was in a week, and my due date was still more than a week away.
I was supposed to take a stress test to determine if the baby should be delivered within 24 hours. Uhm, WHAT?

I was at risk for preeclampsia, Web MD defines preeclampsia as a condition that pregnant women develop. It is marked by high blood pressure and a high level of protein in the urine. Preeclamptic women will often also have swelling in the feet, legs, and hands. This condition usually appears during the second half of pregnancy, often in the latter part of the second or in the third trimesters, although it can occur earlier.
If undiagnosed, preeclampsia can lead to eclampsia, a serious condition that can put you and your baby at risk, and in rare cases, cause death. BAD.
They drew my blood for testing, and then I was given a jug to do a 24 hour urine test. Haha, I lugged that thing everywhere that next day. I had store it in a refrigerator. My in-laws refrigerator. After peeing in a jug, I was supposed to take it to the lab at the hospital, and get a stress test.

They strapped monitors to me, and tracked me an the baby for about an hour. They tested my blood and urine, and said everything was all clear.
My doctor had scheduled me to be induced that following Monday, to prevent preeclampsia from occurring,  because I was starting to show signs.


They told me they would call me Monday and let me know what time to come in.
Holy crap...
I was gonna have a baby!!
On Monday!!

Monday came. We woke up, and hum hawed around. 11 rolled around and we decided to go to breakfast.
I was so nervous. I'm getting nervous writing about it.
We ordered our food, and started eating.

My phone rang.

It was the hospital.
"Can you be here at 11:45?"
Yes. 11:45.
(My heart is literally pounding as I write this.)
That was in 20 mins. We had everything we needed in the car. We finished eating, paid, and left.
We arrived at the hospital.
It was 11:40.
I checked in, they took me to my room, I changed, and they layed me down on the bed.

Mark took pictures of me.

Because I had to be induced I got hooked up to IV's. I was also positive for group B Strep, which, defined by Web MD, is the most common cause among newborns of infection of the blood and of the brain. The responsible bacterium, usually S. agalactiae, is passed to the fetus as the infant passes through the birth canal. Nifty. So I was given antibiotics every 4 hours to prevent the infection from passing to my baby.
My nurse started asking me questions about my birth plan. She asked if I wanted an epidural. I said no, but we'll see how it goes. She looked at me like I was an idiot. And continued going through paper work. Not Okay.
My two brothers got group B strep after they were born, they were very sick, and I was afraid. I didn't want to take any chances, so I asked if they could start the antibiotics before the pitocin, just so it was in my system in case things happened fast.
My nurse basically ignored me, "It's coming up from the pharmacy." Was all she said.
I had no response...

Anyway, while hooking up my main IV to draw my blood, and give me fluids, the phlebotomist blew my vein. It felt nice. I hate needles, and that is why. She switched to my other hand, which I mentioned was my better hand in the first place, but no one was listening to me. Still not okay.
My left arm was very swollen, and really hurt. They were supposed to put my blood pressure cuff on the opposing arm from the IV so it wouldn't irritate that arm. Too late. Every time the blood pressure cuff came on and squoze my left arm, it felt like it was going to explode! Oh well. What's done, was done.
They got the IV in my right hand, I had tubes, and cables, and monitors all over the place.

My nurse continued asking me questions: my name, birthday, bla bla bla. She then asked if I wanted a Hep B shot administered to my baby, and I said no.
She looked at me funny.
She then asked me if I wanted him to be given the eye cream to prevent infections.
I wanted to say no, because it's actually to prevent eye infections caused by STD's carried by the mother, which I do not have, but I said yes, because I was sick of her acting like I was stupid.

They started the pitocin at 4 amps, strapped monitors to my stomach, and checked my cervix.
At my last appointment, my doctor said I was dilated to a 2. I told the nurse, and she mumbled, "that's a 2?" To herself. Then said, "You feel like a one to me, I wouldn't be surprised if this baby is born tomorrow."
Yes, she was upper supportive. I wasn't really sure what her deal was, but everything MArk and I said to her was wrong, and stupid, or at least that's what her reactions said.
She said some other things, then left.

After a little while, small contractions started. They felt like uncomfortable period cramps, every couple of minutes.
They came in and turned up my pitocin, around 1:15.
There was a student nurse helping my main nurse take care of me.
My main nurse told the student nurse, "We want to see her having a minute long contraction every 2 minutes." So they contiued adjusting my pitocin.
They can in again and turned up my pitocin. It was about 1:30.
Then my Dr. came and broke my water, and checked my cervix. It was 2:00.And I was dilated to a two. My nurse kind of argued with my Doctor about how dilated I was. She was really obnoxious.
They turned up my pitocin.
My pitocin was at 16 in this picture.
After they broke my water, my contractions got more intense, but they were bearable.

The monitors strapped to my stomach were supposed to track my baby's heartbeat, and show the rate and intensity of my contractions.
After about an hour of consistently turning up my pitocin, it was at 21 amps, and I was having minute long contractions, every 30 seconds.
My body wasn't getting any sort of recovery from my contractions.

I started puking. 

The student nurse came rushing in, because the monitor was going all over the place. She turned my pitocin down to 12 amps. And then my main nurse meandered in.
"Andrea, are you having contractions?" She asked, plain as day.
Uh, no, I'm just puking because I wanted to.
YES I'm having contractions.
Mark chimed in.
"She is having a minute long contraction, like, every 30 seconds."
"Oh, then I don't think your monitor is working."
No, really?
"We might have to use an internal monitor so we can keep track of things better."
Okay, whatever. I'm already hooked up to everything possible. Do what you must.
I really didn't care. I just didn't want to have contractions for the rest of my life.
"Do you want us to check you?"
Sure, why not.
I was dilated to a "2."
"Now, you're not progressing very fast. Do you want to get an epidural? He is free right now, and we can get started, you just say the word."
"Okay, well this really could be a Tuesday baby. You could be here a while, and it's only going to get worse."
I wanted to smack her, then and there.
But I just kept saying no.
They ended up putting in an internal monitor to track my contractions. It worked a lot better. 

All the other details, and timing is all jumbled in my head now.
I remember contractions getting worse, and worse as time went on. My mom arrived around 5:30, I think. I was probably around 6:30 or 7 when my nurse came in again to check me. I was sitting on the bed kind of hunched over. I did NOT want to move.

Back tracking for a second. around 4, the student nurse came in for some reason I don't remember, and watched me breathe through a contraction.
"You're on pitocin, and you just breathed through a contraction! I've never seen anybody do that. I've had my own baby, and had the epidural within the first hour! That's seriously impressive." I liked her.

Anyway, at around 6, my nurse came to check my cervix, and saw the way I was sitting. She waited for me to start a contraction and said, "Are you sure you don't want an epidural, this could be a while."
I couldn't talk, but everyone just stared at me. I shook my head.
She sighed an aggravated sigh.
"Well, you're dilated to a 3. We really be looking at a Tuesday birth."
She waited for my response. I was having another contraction, and couldn't talk.
"Do you want a pain killer in your IV? It will take the edge off, and make it a little easier."
I really don't know why she was pushing me so much, it didn't make any sense. I wasn't asking anybody for anything. Just sitting there, in pain, breathing, living life, whining to my mom and Mark.
Mark and I had taken a lamaze birthing class, and I knew that the stuff they could give me in the IV can affect your baby, not long term, but just in general. I really didn't want it. Everyone stared at me again.
"Will it affect the baby?" Mark asked. "It might make him sleepy, but only if he's born in the next 4 hours, which is highly unlikely."
Right, because you're a psychic.
"Do you want it?" someone asked, I don't remember if it was my mom, or Mark.
I shook my head again.
"Well, you're in about the worst laboring position you could be in." My nurse said, irritated as ever.
"We need to put you in a new position."
Again, I did not want to move.
I knew gravity was my friend, and I should kneel, or get on all fours, or something, but I didn't want to move.
I gave in.
"We can get out a birthing ball." She suggested.
Okay, whatever. Get out a birthing ball.
I sat on the ball. NOT comfortable. Holy cow that was obnoxious.
I don't remember if she was still in the room or not, but after about 30 seconds, I pushed the ball away and got back on the bed.
I think she had left the room, because she came back and said, "Didn't like the ball, I guess?"
No, no I did not.
"Well let's try something else."
She had me kneel on a pillow on the floor, leaning against the bed like I was praying. I was also praying in real life. Haha.

I was falling asleep in between contractions, and I kept having to go to the bathroom. It was so obnoxious. I had to unplug everything, and drag it all to the bathroom. I was afraid of having the baby in the toilet!

My doctor, and my nurse came and checked me at 8, and I was dilated to a 4.
"I need you to really try and relax, so we can get this baby here. Let your body do what it needs to do. You're doing a really good job." My doctor was very nice.
I had brought my essential oils, and I had been using those to try and relax.
My mom came and rubbed a bunch on my back, and my feet. It was nice.

By now, I think Mark was really sick of me haha. In that black and white picture, he is holding my hand. I would call him over when a contraction would start, and I would squeeze his hand. Then, right when it would end, I would tell him to go away! I didn't want to be touched. He had been rubbing my back, and trying to be nice, but I hated all of it! I wanted to like it, but everything was irritating me.

For 2 hours, I would fall in and out of consciousness. Not, passing out, just totally sleeping. Then I would have a contraction, then fall back asleep.
I would wake up, call Mark over, yell "Ow!" a few times, then fall back asleep. Haha. I felt so pathetic.

I had a really bad contraction around 10. Everyone was kind of talking about me from what I could tell.
I was yelling "Ow!" and when I was done, my mom asked me if I wanted to talk about getting an epidural.
"Maybe... but I kind of feel like pushing." I said.
"Oh!" my mom responded.
I had another contraction, yep, I felt like pushing. I could literally feel his head pushing down there. It is the weirdest feeling...
My mom called my nurse in. But it was a different nurse. I was SO happy.
She had me get up on the bed, and checked me.
"Oh!" she said.
"You're about a 9 and a half. We could probably start your pushing."
"Go ahead and give me a little push." She said.
"Yeah, we're ready!" she turned around and said some stuff to someone else in the room.
Then it all began. Everyone was all over the place, shining lights on me, taking off my clothes, removing pieces of the bed, pulling up the stirrups, getting buckets, and trays with tools. In about 5 minutes, my doctor was dressed in all blue, standing in between my legs.
Pushing  time.
I really didnt know how to push out a baby. No one had told me. In case you're wondering, it feels like you're pooping. Hah. Too much information, I know, but this is a birthing story!
Once I figured that out (after like 20 mins of pushing wrong) I pushed for a little while more, and he was born at 10:56 pm.

He was 6 lbs 14 oz, 19" long. Screaming, and new!

He was having a hard time breathing on his own, he was working too hard to take in breaths.
They had to take him away from me. Mark went with him to the nursery.

They had to hook him up to a CPAP machine to force air into his lungs, to make him take longer breaths. After that they kept him there to monitor everything else.

And there you have it!
I had a baby.
We stayed in the hospital one more night, and brought him home on the 21st of November.

Although my nurse was rude, and a pain, it was a good experience! I will definitely do it again!
My mom told me later that she got mad at my nurse, and told her to be more supportive of my choices, and that was when I got a new nurse. But that was probably good for my old nurse, seeing that I had my baby sooner than her psychic abilities predicted! haha

Thanks for reading. Sorry it was forever long! Hopefully it kept you interested!