Well well well...
Let me tell you up front, this post will be a long one. Not only that, but there will be 2 pictures here that have blood... don't worry, my vagina is NOT on display, but like I said, 2 photos contain blood and are a little graphic.
So... sit back, relax, grab a snack or a drink or whatever will help you pass the time because this fatty blog entry will be in chapters, much like a Quentin Tarantino flick. Oh, maybe turn on some sweet 70's music too.
Chapter 1: My labor of love and the subsequent pay off.
Let me take you back in time... Back to the night of August 28th. That night, sleeping was really a no-go. I was up most of the night in pain and up to the bathroom every 2 hours. I knew I was contracting, but they only felt slightly stronger than the previous fake ones. I didn't tell Kris I had a horrible night because he planned on heading north to work on the new house and I knew it had to get done. Stupid me though, during the morning I was really regretting that decision because it didn't take long and I was contracting every 20 minutes. I managed to leave my house and grab lunch with a friend and her daughter, meanwhile re-setting my timer every contraction. It was actually hard to get out of my car and walk into the restaurant. When Hong saw me struggling to even make it in the door her greeting was, "Are you sure you should be here?" We had lunch from like 1pm till 3pm and I was still holding strong at every 20 minutes. I think I progressed to every 10 minutes around 6 or 7 and the contractions became so strong I had to get down on the floor. That's when both Kris and I knew we'd be going to the hospital at some point that night. I kept going into the bathroom to try to poop because one of my biggest fears was that I would end up pooping during birth. Gross. Like the playdough meat grinder thingy....
Except not like that because I don't have worms.
So while I'm struggling in the bathroom Kris looks up on the 'net when we should go into the hospital. Apparently, there's a 5:1:1 rule, contracting every 5 minutes lasting 1 minute, for 1 hour. Well, we were sitting at about every 7 minutes at about 8:00-8:30, so we held out. At around 9pm I progressed to every 3-4 minutes and the most intense pain I've ever felt. At one point I was on the floor hanging onto Kris' hips because the pain was pretty intense and that's when I felt the urge to push...
That's when Kris was like, "We should probably just go."
So we left at around 9:30. We got there pretty quickly because we were still at our house in Portland and man was I grateful because sitting was not ideal in those moments.
We got up to Labor and Delivery and they were Johnny-on-the-spot with getting us settled in. All my dignity was immediately out the door. I mean, I've heard people say you end up not caring who sees what and so on, but I still had those little worries like, I don't want anyone to see me poo on the table, and I wanted my toenails painted, etc. So stupid. I will have you know though, I did look pretty cute going in, one of the nurses commented on how cute the flower was in my hair. Didn't last long though, that thing came out and the hair came down as soon as I was in that bed. Also, when we arrived I was already dilated to 6cm. They like women to get to 10cm before pushing, so I think we did a good job laboring at home for the most part.
So, as soon as Kris and I got in the room the nurse hands me this little specimen cup and tells me to pee in it. Seriously lady?! Needless to say I mostly just peed all over my hand. Doctors came in and opened my chart and were like, "So, we see you want to do natural..." I think I may have cut them off, "Things have changed! An epidural would be good!" I guess getting an epidural requires a running IV. They wanna throw some LR in first, then NS. Well, I was a pin cushion briefly. My nurse tried twice and couldn't do it. (how you miss these veins, I don't know, A) I'm transparent B) you could drive a bus through these veins!) Anyway, the 3rd time worked well, different nurse, and I got my epidural in around midnight thirty. It started working around 1:30 or so, but I did get some Fentanyl in the meantime, and let me tell you, that stuff is AWESOME.
Some time passed, I wanna say it was around 3 or 3:30 that they decided they wanted to break my water. Another birth plan choice I wanted was to break my water on my own, if at all. The docs decided they wanted to get going because during contractions his heart rate would fall to around 80. I felt pressured because I know my doc is a great one, but I also really wanted to do that on my own. They got out their little hook thingy that looks like a darning needle, and I was like, "fine" -I mean, when they tell you your baby is struggling AT ALL of course you wanna make sure they transition ok and at that point I think any woman would do anything to make sure her little babe is ok. Lo and behold, as I sat up my water broke like someone just opened a champagne bottle! -All over my nurse! It made a pop and gushing noise and everything! I was SO proud! Put your stupid hook away! We're progressing ON OUR OWN. One thing I didn't realize, after your water breaks, epidural or not, contractions get harder again.
So, fast forward to about 4 and the docs check me, I'm at 10cm! I didn't feel like I had to push yet so they put a monitor on his little head because the outside monitors on my belly were throwing out weird readings they didn't know if they could trust. I felt the urge to push again starting at 4:20. I pushed as hard as I could, every time, not making any noise. 28 minutes later, my handsome little man came into this world and was laid on my chest a lifeless, breathless lump of purple, bloody mess. I'm not going to lie, it was pretty fucking traumatic. I held him and I remember looking at Kris, and crying and repeating, "He's not crying, why isn't he crying?!" I've never wanted so badly to hear a baby cry. My inner alarm was going off in full force.
The doctors swept him up and told Kris "Cut the cord!" -It was not in his plan to cut it, but he knew something was wrong and did it so they could take him and get to work. They took his little lifeless body off of me and rushed him to the other side of the room and I didn't even notice the baby code team had flooded the room. I was crying because my baby wasn't, and I kept staring at Kris because I honestly felt looking at him was the only thing I had to hang onto. If I didn't have Kris in that moment I would've been screaming. He kept repeating, "He's fine, he's fine, they're doing their thing, he's going to be fine." He kept it together to keep me together. I've never felt so much love for my husband, honestly, just writing about that horrifying few minutes makes me tear back up. Needless to say, those few minutes felt like a lifetime. Then I heard it. His cries. Geez, what's happened to me. I'm crying now just recalling that most beautiful moment when I heard my son take his first real breaths. I felt as though new life was breathed into myself as well and I cried harder out of relief. As soon as he was stable they gave him back to me and we got our precious skin on skin time and he went to the breast right away. I could tell Kris was relieved, and so proud. He was practically glowing and it made me fall in love with my family yet again.
A human came out of me, still blows my mind.
Proud new Daddy
So then began the repairs... as Van got to begin bonding with Kris and me the docs got out their needle and thread and began the precarious work of putting Humpty Dumpty back together again. Wanna guess how long that took? Go ahead, guess. About an hour and a half! I thought maybe they were making Van a new baby blanket!
Ta Da!
At least they kept the epidural on during the craft session. I guess I pushed so hard and he came out so fast I ripped in 3 places. Two stage 1's and a stage 3. Yikes! I guess during the ordeal I developed a big hematoma on my vaginal wall, so before getting all done "down there" they consulted with another doctor to come take a look-see to see if I would have to go to the OR to drain the hematoma. They decided no, and finished sewing me up, took the gauze out and turned off the epidural. Van was then whisked off to get monitored for a couple more hours in the NICU and I went to Mother/Baby.
We stayed in the hospital for 2 nights because of my ripped up vagina. Vanson did awesome with his little shots, and he seemed to do well latching on. We had an uneventful hospital recovery. We were allowed to leave on that Saturday morning. It was weird to leave, part of me was scared. I can relate to patient's getting used to being watched and monitored.
We moved our household the next day.
Chapter 2: Post hospital transition to new parenthood and new house in a new state...
Needless to say, moving was STRESSFUL. Kris has really been outdoing himself with how hard he's been working to make this new house a home. His family did a LOT as well to make this house as move-in ready as possible. They were up here painting their asses off, cleaning, they helped us move and helped us un-pack and set up. Honestly, without them my life would be HELL right now.
On moving day Vanson went without eating for about 9 hours and scared the living shit out of me. I feel stupid about it, because I felt like I didn't really know how to be aggressive with feeding him. I thought maybe he was stressed because it was a crazy day. It was probably a combination of both my stress and his. At our first doc appointment that Tuesday I was put in touch with a lactation consultant because Vanson lost almost a pound. It made me feel like a failure as a mother, already. When Bryna came out and evaluated Vanson and myself she felt he may need an ENT doctor for his mouth. She put me in touch with a pediatric ENT and we saw him that Friday. Turns out Vanson was tongue tied and lip tied. The tissue under his tongue was holding his tongue down, and he had some tissue under his upper lip that stretched all the way around his gums that prevented his upper lip form flipping up. We had it lasered and Vanson seems to be healing quite well. He still hasn't gained his birth weight back but we're working on it with every 2 hour feedings. I think he's making some progress based on his diaper wreckage and look forward to our follow up appointment tomorrow.
The day before I got his mouth taken care of he also got circumcised. My poor baby just got hammered on one day after another. Sheesh. My little trooper. Lucky for me he loves him some Tylenol. Maybe it's the taste? Because it's different than breast milk? Maybe it's because it's some volume without him having to work so hard to get it? Whatever it is, he loves that stuff.
The bleeding after birth is no joke as well. Man, I have heard people say you bleed, and you can't get anything done because babies constantly need you, oh, and no sleep. I heard all that and was like, "Ok, sounds tough." NO. It's NO JOKE. It's serious. The bleeding and the pain "down there" have been AWFUL. And those doctors mean business when they say no lifting. I definitely bleed more when I've tried doing strenuous things like move heavy boxes or move furniture. I learned and am not doing that stuff anymore.
**GRAPHIC IMAGES AHEAD**
Especially since this thing came out of me...
Um...
I sort of thought this thing was going to punch me in the face and then slink off somewhere and accost someone else, maybe rob a bank, maybe go back into the sea...
I took those photos to show my doctor because I knew when I said, "I think I passed a clot with some tissue." they'd probably be like, "Yeah, yeah, we've heard that before... you're fine." So I showed them and watched their eyes get all big and then ask questions like, "Have you been light-headed, dizzy?" The doctors didn't have an explanation, but the lactation consultant thought it was part of the placenta. Doesn't part of that look like umbilical cord? Crazy. I'm glad it's out. I'm glad my body got it out and it didn't hold onto it and make me sick.
So, as time has gone on, I feel like I'm getting the hang of this a little bit. I can't even fathom going back to work yet. I can't even think about that. Lucky for me I have some time off for awhile. The learning curve is steep.
I tell ya, there is NOTHING like this whole experience so far. This kid could be screaming his little head off (he does this high pitched thing that is SO adorable) and I just kiss his little face. I am totally taken with how amazing he is. We spent a few hours capturing all of his adorableness the other day and I can't stop looking at them. He definitely rules my world. I remember when I used to be go, go go, worried about how I looked, concerned with Happy Hour menus and whats going on elsewhere, but not anymore, and you know what? I don't mind. As long as my family is good, I'm good. I could easily turn into a hermit just to get to hang out with my handsome men. I don't want to miss a moment of his life.
My little love bug
