Babies are such a Blessing

    A week after our unexpected visit to the ER for kidney stones, Hero Hottie was finally feeling better and I was still pregnant.
    Very pregnant. I felt about ready to burst like a balloon with too much air. I was so grateful to be nearing my due date; since for a few months there I was overwhelmed with worry that my torn placenta would cause us great heartache; but I was ready to have this Baby now.

    That evening things finally started...but of course not in the way we expected. Did I  mention I'm done with making plans and trying to have more Faith? My plans for delivery would have been a disaster; but luckily my actual birth plan wasn't decided by me.

    I walked out into the yard to check on Bean and Abu who were enjoying the nice autumn evening. It was warm and relaxing. I felt a sharp, unusual pain in my back and then nothing. Strange but I didn't think much about it until a few minutes later when I realized that my water had broken. It wasn't a gush or dramatic or anything like you see in the movies. In fact, this heavily pregnant lady thought she lost bladder control for a moment.
       Normally, I would be embarrassed to talk about such things, but heck, I had a full term infant resting on top of my bladder, leaks happen.

     When I finally realized, that yes, my water had broken; I also realized I wasn't having any contractions. None. Zip. Zero. After three weeks of them, suddenly and strangely, they were absent. This labor and delivery was nothing like my other two.
    We sent the older girls to Grandma, with a promise that as soon as things actually started to happen, we would send for them. They were hoping to be in the delivery room while I gave birth and didn't want to miss their sister's arrival.
    Hero Hottie and I packed our bags and went to the hospital. Regardless of the missing contractions, my water had still broken and now we had to go deliver a baby. I was starting to feel excited. Baby Blueberry was coming!! It was going to be her birthday. And I was going to be able to hold her and kiss her and love her.

     I will skip the next sixteen hours. It's quite boring. I was barely having contractions and in fact they were so mild, I was able to sleep through a lot of them. Sleep was good though. The doctor even let me eat, since I wasn't experiencing any real labor yet. Hero Hottie and I watched the Food Network and slept and waited for something to happen.
    The next morning, after sixteen hours of labor, we agreed with the doctor, very reluctantly, that we should start the pitocin.
    I hate pitocin. I had it with my first labor and it makes the contractions rough. They're harsher, more painful, and they leave me feeling like I'm totally not in control of my own body. I didn't want to take it, but I could not get labor to kick start and we were trying everything...walking, ankle massages, more walking...nothing.
    The first few hours were still slow, since we had started with a low dose and were only slowly increasing it. I still wanted a natural birth and was even willing to try it, knowing the pitocin might make it more difficult.
    Then with another dose increase, my old uterus, as the nurses so kindly put it (hey, now- I'm only in my early thirties.) finally decided to do something.
    And oh boy, did it work then. Being the stubborn ass that I am though, I gritted my teeth through the wickedly horrible pitocin contractions, still determined to do this without an epidural.
    Until it was too late of course. And I was stuck with these massive waves of sharp pain in my back and wrapping around to the front. They were not normal contractions at all. It was like my uterus was protesting the intervention and was refusing to cooperate but the pitocin was stronger and forced it to do its job anyway.
    The nurses helped me climb into the bed, since I had been laboring on a stool. I scooted to the edge and clung to the railing. I should have asked for the epidural when I agreed to the pitocin.
     A little bit later and after a bit of screaming on my part, it was time to deliver Baby Blueberry. Thank goodness because I was done.
     And then that's when my past came to haunt me. The doctor, who knew about my Crohn's and my fistula surgeries suddenly realized that we might have a major disaster on our hands.
    "Did you ask your GI doctor if you could deliver vaginally?" she asks, studying the fistula scars on my bottom under her huge, bright lamp. I don't think she had known just how intensive they were. Or how much area they took up.
    "No." I managed to answer between contractions, wondering, even in my pain dimmed brain why it mattered.
     "You should have. We have a problem."
     "It's a little late now." I answered, feeling Baby Blueberry making her descent and getting ready to crown.
      "If you deliver this baby too fast, than you could tear all this scar tissue. All of it. We have to do this very slowly and let things stretch or it's going to be really bad."
       I had Hero Hottie's hand clutched in mine and I had it pressed to my forehead. I heard his breath catch and could feel his panic. It was my panic too. Healing from the fistulas had nearly ripped our family apart and destroyed my health. And here the doctor was telling me I risked ripping the scars open.
     If they tore, it would be a disaster. They might not even heal this time.
     At that point I really wished I had agreed to an epidural.
     So, Baby Blueberry would have arrived in three or four pushes, according to the doctor. Instead, it took over an hour to push her out because I was allowed a little, tiny push on the start of the contraction and then I had to stop my body from doing anymore.
    "Breathe." Hero Hottie kept telling me.
     "Breathe. Don't push. Don't push. Breathe." The nurses kept telling me.
     And I had to go against every natural instinct a laboring Mom has when her baby is crowning, and breathe.
    Breathe. Breathe. Little push, hardly anything. And pray desperately for enough strength to do this.
    If Hero Hottie hadn't been there, to hold my hand and keep my on task; I'm not sure if I would have been able to. The only thing that kept me from giving in and just allowing her to exit quickly was the fear that I would tear all that scar tissue and I would have...well, I couldn't even think about it, going back to that time period.  So I didn't push.
   Baby Blueberry was absolutely wonderful. Her heart is so strong and she never wavered or experienced any distress even though she had to wait so long to make her appearance.
    Then finally, when I knew I couldn't do it anymore, she slipped out and was suddenly on top of my chest.
    Beautiful baby. Our baby. And she was doing great. The twenty one hour labor didn't faze her at all. We let Bean and Abu into the room then. Originally, I would have allowed them to come in when I was pushing but with the extra complications at the end, we made them wait outside in the hall.
    They were amazed. The nurse took a photo of that special moment, when they first see her and it's the most precious image.

     So my plan for birth would have been as quick as Abu's labor had been and that would have been a disaster for me and my family. Instead, even though it was the hardest hour of my life, I had the labor I needed. With the help of the right doctor, I didn't tear or damage any of the scar tissue. I can't even tell you how many times I have said prayers of gratitude for that small miracle.

    This entire year has turned out differently than Hero Hottie and I imagined it would when we were ringing in the New Year. We were blessed with an unexpected Surprise. And that's how we will tell her that story too. She wasn't an accident, that implies we would change things if we could. No, we will tell her she was a Surprise.
     A wonderful, unexpected Surprise.
     A gift.
     A Blessing.

    Welcome to the world Baby Blueberry. 
   
   

   

Another Trip to the Hospital But No Baby

     So the month of September passed me by in a blur of  blustery days and golden leaves and...
    a Baby Blueberry.

    Hence, why I haven't wrote anything until now...I have filled my autumn days with Baby smiles and that 'new baby smell.'  I have been surrounded by diapers, little -tiny clothes, and the tasks of all new Moms.
    I will write about her arrival this week. But first the tale of how we got there.


    On the first of September, Hero Hottie and I decided that we wanted to help nature along. Weeks of strong and painful contractions and frequent false alarms were causing us to feel very impatient for the arrival of Baby Blueberry.
     And even though I had just experienced an entire year of being reminded that plans made are often plans changed; I decided I should have some say in Baby Blueberry's due date.
    I wasn't thinking inducing, I hate pitocin, it makes for the worse contractions; but I thought we should try the safe old wives tales on how to kick start a labor.
      So, on that Saturday, we went through our lists of ones we wanted to try. We walked around the park with the older girls, we spent the day together, he rubbed my ankles, and we ended the afternoon eating really spicy food at the Mexican restaurant.
    The contractions would start and then fizzle out.
    We didn't have a Baby, but we had a really nice day as a family.

     Hero Hottie came home though not looking so well. He had woken up not feeling real great but it hadn't been bad enough to stop our day. Now, he just wanted to nap.
    So nap he did, until about 6pm when searing, sharp pains in his back and side woke him up.
    If anyone reading this has had a kidney stone, than you know...it is not a fun experience at all. For Hero Hottie there is usually a lot of vomiting, clammy skin, shaking, rolling around on the floor trying to find a position that eases the pain, and language that has me sending the kids downstairs.
    He has experienced kidney stones twice before so we knew what was probably happening and in that second I was so glad we hadn't had a baby earlier. Could you imagine being in labor, in the middle of trying to birth your child and suddenly your husband is having to take up residence in the floor above you for kidney stones? How horrible would that be?
   So here I was just a few minutes earlier thinking how disappointed I was that we didn't have a Baby yet, and now I was so grateful that MY PLANS hadn't worked. Another reminder on having Faith. It wasn't the right time to have a Baby, because if we had; than her Daddy would have missed her birth.
    And that thought was just horrible. I didn't want him missing that.

   I sent the older girls over to Grandma's and took Hero Hottie to the ER. Which was a disaster. It was packed. So busy in fact that there was no place to sit and since they couldn't see him yet, he went outside to walk and pace and try to deal with the intense pain.
   I stayed inside to listen for his name.
   An hour passed without his name being called. I kept checking on him and he looked horrible, trying to deal with the pain of the sharp little kidney stone.
   More time passed and I couldn't see Hero Hottie from the window but I knew he was just passed my view. Then I saw two security guards walk in his direction and stop.
   I quickly went outside, thinking something horrible had happened.
   Hero Hottie was lying on the ground, obviously having just puked. He did not look so well at all. But he answered me when I said his name. I don't think I sounded as panicked as I felt on the inside when I saw him lying on the sidewalk.
    The security guards were so concerned for him. I write that with sarcasm, by the way. Because after I explained to them that he was suffering from a kidney stone and not only could the ER not see him yet, but there was no where to sit down in the waiting area, they told me he would have to go inside anyway, because it didn't make the hospital look good to have him outside and puking.
     Well, heaven forbid, we make the hospital look bad.
     'Honey, you have to go inside and just stand there, while having a kidney stone and remember don't make the hospital look bad.'
    As if he intentionally planned on vomiting in front of the hospital.
    The security guards talked to the staff and we were told it would only be a few more minutes, so we went inside. That few more minutes was almost an hour and then he was given a bed in the hallway, next to a room that had big, bold signs on it that said don't enter unless you are wearing a mask. I have to say I felt a bit uneasy about our location since I was pregnant with Baby Blueberry.
   Twenty -long -minutes in the hallway next to the contagion zone we finally received good news...       Finally. 
     After three hours of waiting...we found ourselves in a room and being seen by a doctor. Who quickly prescribed some painkillers. And then Hero Hottie was blessed with a wonderful nurse who filled the order quickly so that he could finally obtain a bit of relief.
    After a blood test, a CT scan; to make sure it was a kidney stone, to verify that it was a passable kidney stone and to rule out appendicitis; we went home at 2:00 in the morning.
   So our busy day, which had started out with a plan to be in the hospital, had in a way happened. It just wasn't me who ended up there.

    Luckily. Because then both of us would have been there.
  
    Of course, I'm sure Hero Hottie would have gladly passed on the chance for such a nice visit to the ER. 
 
     Over the next week I would keep telling Baby Blueberry to stay in her nice, cozy space until her Daddy had passed his kidney stone and was well again. In the meantime, I would just wait for labor to happen naturally, realizing that there was a bigger plan involving the whole process than I knew about. 
   

Practice Run

   Three days ago I thought Baby Blueberry was on her way. For the past two weeks I have been having contractions; painful practice ones that remind me that childbirth is a little bit painful.

    But Monday night they started, continued through the night, disrupting my sleep and kept going right into Tuesday. By the time we picked up Bean and Abu from school, they were rolling in every 2-4 minutes and lasting a minute at a time.
    And whew...they were painful. Suddenly, the practice contractions I had been having in the last two weeks were just minor aches in comparison.
    Hero Hottie thought we should probably go to the hospital. I agreed with him as soon as I could take a breath again. We sent the girls off to Grandma's, packed a few things, made a few calls, and left.
   He drove because frankly, I had trouble even climbing into the mini van because of how bad it was starting to hurt, let alone drive.
   At our hospital we have to check in through the ER, which I have to disagree with. Sending a pregnant woman through germ heaven seems a little silly. I tried not to touch too many things. And I stayed far away from the coughing patients waiting their turn.

   Now, during my last two deliveries, the hospital had certain policies and that was it. You had a choice...to agree with them. But this time, I wanted more control over my experience. I found a doctor that was open to the newer ways of looking at childbirth and allowed me to write a birth plan.
    (They aren't newer ways, I'm not taking the placenta home and eating it. But I want a less medicalized birth. Less policies and more just listening to my body.)

   Still, while I waited for the delivery nurse to come down and get me, I figured she would be bringing a wheelchair for me. I hate the wheelchair while I'm in labor. I don't like to sit down while I'm contracting but it's hospital policy. I guess a woman in labor can't walk anymore, even if she wants to.
   But when the nurse arrived, she didn't have a wheelchair.
   "I read your birth plan before I came down here. I saw that you want things as natural as possible so I figure you would probably want to walk."
   I was flabbergasted. Hell, yes I want to walk. And so slowly, because contractions slow you down, we walked to the maternity floor.
   And that was only the start of all the wonderful changes they had made to the concept of giving birth.
   First, the gowns were tailored made for a pregnant woman. Oh, my goodness. Seriously. How long did it take the medical system to realize that a laboring woman doesn't feel comfortable in a gown made for a 300 pound man? This gown was sewn to be fitted around my feminine form, with room for my huge belly. It was pink and soft and didn't leave a gap in the back so the entire world could see my bottom. I had been planning on just wearing my sports bra for delivery but I can deal with this gown. And on top of that...it has snaps in the front so later I can breast feed without stripping the entire thing off.
   The robes are soft, fluffy and pink. (Pink seems a little stereotypical for a pregnant woman but I don't care about the color.) They were real robes, not old, nasty hospital gowns turned backwards, and used as a robe. I wouldn't mind taking it home, it was so comfortable.

   I was taken into the triage room to determine if I was really in labor or just thought I was. The nurse offered me and Hero Hottie bottle waters, to stay hydrated. And then asked if I needed any juice and gave me a huge list to pick from. Wow. I was beginning to feel like royalty. I thought, from my previous delivery experiences, I was going to have to fight for a cup of ice cubes and some attention.

   She hooked me up to the monitors. Baby Blueberry's heartbeat was a wonderful sound and it was strong and steady. The other monitor to keep track of my contractions clearly showed that I was having strong, steady contractions. This had to be labor.
   I was breathing through the pain when they would hit, watching my uterus form a tight, little ball and then feel Baby Blueberry complain heavily afterwards, with lots of wiggles, stretches and powerful kicks. She hates being squished.

  The nurse checked my cervix. I was sure I was at least at 4cms. If not more. With these contractions I had to be quite a bit along.

  I think she thought so too, because she starts frowning as she realizes where I am at.
  "You're at 2cm." She says, sounding disappointed.

   Whoa. Back the delivery truck up. 2cm? That was it? Almost twenty four of contractions and over an hour of serious contractions and that was it.

    "Well," she says, "if you want to walk around the halls for an hour, we'll check you again and see if things pick up. Otherwise, you'll be better off at home."
    "Lets walk." I agree. I'm still contracting and I might as well try for a bit. But 2cm is depressing.
    She grins. "Just stay on the hardwood floor area. That's the maternity area. If you start walking the other parts of the hospital they get really nervous that you'll drop a baby on them."
    I nod and start walking the halls. It's a big loop and I have the entire thing memorize in an hour. I saw a couple of babies and they were so sweet. It made me want to hold Baby Blueberry. I can't wait for her.

   After an hour. Recheck. 2cm. Contractions are starting to finally...slow down. In three more hours they will stop.
   Damn.

   The next day I had a doctor's appointment. She says that can happen. The body is warming up, doing things in stages so when it's time, everything isn't changing all at once. My first two weren't like that, once I started with the contractions, I didn't stop until I had a baby.
   This little one is teaching me patience. Perhaps she got shy. She does tend to get really quiet and still when she hears unfamiliar voices.
   Perhaps she just needs a little bit longer.

   I just need to enjoy these last few days of quiet. Enjoy the wonderful feel of her moving in my womb and responding to my voice.
  I just need to remember that she made it full term and all those months of bed rest and taking it easy has allowed her to grow strong.
   Some time in the next two weeks Baby Blueberry will be here. She just wanted to test things out. Prepare herself for the real deal.
    She just needed a practice run.