My Mom and sister, along with her baby, came to visit us and help out about a week after Max was born. It's always fun to see them and the girls just love it when they come. My mom even treated Gabriela to "the best day of her whole life" when she took her on a personal shopping trip to the mall, where they had lunch and got milkshakes, and came home with a lot of loot. They even took the girls to paint pottery one day too, not to mention the countless dishes they had to wash, and the meals, and the picking up they had to endure.
This is Max with his cousin Bentley. Max weighted a whole 6.3 lbs. when he was born. His cousin...9.5 lbs! He's three months old and probably weighs 17 lbs. by now. He's a BIG BOY! and he made Maximus look more like Minimus. But then again, Bentley's mom makes me look like a runt too. She's way taller than I am.
This all started on Friday. I woke up early that morning, took a good long walk at 6:00 a.m., mowed the lawn, showered the girls, showered myself, got something in the crockpot for dinner, went to my Mother's Group, did all the ironing, and washed all the clothes. Had a pretty darn productive day. That night, we were hosting the babysitting group and so I had nine children at my house. I let Miguel tend to the kids in the backyard while I was putting away laundry. Suddenly I realized my water had just broken at around 7:30 that night. I calmly called Miguel in and told him what was going on and that we should start making some phone calls. I called Rachel, my doula, and then called my OB, both of which told me to go to the hospital so I could start my antibiotics for the GBS. We called the kids parents and they came pretty quickly to pick up the kids and I calmly finished packing my bag. It wasn't really a big deal, because I wasn't having any real contractions at that point.
Once I arrived at the hospital, we went upstairs to the Labor and Delivery floor. I told them my water had broken, and they asked me if I was sure. I told them I was pretty darn sure, so they led me to a room and asked me to change. Once I came out of the bathroom, they had discovered that I was a VBAC after 3 and then changed my room to the one next to the operating room. They then proceeded to check me in, get us banded, and start my IV. They nurse was really nice who was with us that night. She had called Dr. Parker and he had said to call him once I was in a regular labor pattern. He gave me until to get something started. So it got pretty quiet after that. Miguel and I just sat there in the room hoping something would happen. I got my GBS antibiotics going and we just sat there. I wanted to go to sleep because I was so tired by that point. It was probably by then. Miguel was over there in the chair reviewing and proof reading documents for Prime that had to be submitted the next day. The next thing I knew he had roped me into proof reading, but after a while I was just too tired to do it. I did however have to go to the bathroom every five seconds because of the amount of fluids they were pumping through me. I was mortified however to find that every time I stood up, I was leaking amniotic fluid. I’m much too sanitary to have that happen and vowed to stay in the bed instead of walking around. (in retrospect, I should have asked for some underwear and pads). I wondered how women labored naturally and did all of the things I had heard about when they are dripping fluid everywhere. I thought it was gross.
Around 11:30, I had the idea to start my nipple stimulation again. I knew I had a limited amount of time to work with and I also knew that that had given me pretty good contractions in the past. So I started it up and, lo and behold, you could see the contractions on the monitors. After a while, the nurse came in and asked what I was doing, because it had gotten there attention out at the desk as well. So I decided to keep it up and work through them and by midnight, Dr. Parker had shown up. He said to keep doing what I was doing and hopefully my body would kick in and take things over. He said he would go sleep and come back around 3:00 a.m. to check me and put in the internal monitor. Miguel eventually passed out on the couch and there I sat, inducing my own contractions, and trying to cope with the pain. I only sat up in the bed. It was too painful to lay down and I would just breathe through them.
By 3 a.m. I was producing contractions that were about two minutes apart and were peaking at around 70-80. Pretty intense for me. Miguel kicked in as the cheerleader and would tell me when the next one was coming would get more excited the stronger the contraction was. I just tried to manage it the best I could, but I kept thinking about everything I had read about natural childbirth and according to that…I was not coping well. In my mind I had convinced myself that if it was hurting, I was not coping with it well and I was doing something wrong. Such a false thing to think. Looking back I should have called Rachel, my doula, and had her up there during the night, but I’m too much of a people pleaser to keep her up all night. She probably would have helped me get out of the bed and I’m kicking myself now for not using her during the night.
When Dr. Parker finally came back I hadn’t progressed at all and in fact the baby was up higher than before. He was posterior and I hadn’t dialated any further. Pretty much I was the same, if not worse, than before. So discouraging. By now I’m exhausted. If I quit the stimulation, my contractions would die off completely. Dr. Parker said he would be as patient as I was and that we really had an 18 hour time frame before the risk of infection set in. That meant I had until around 1:00 in the afternoon to get things rolling and show some signs of progression. After about 7 a.m. I was checked again and still no progression. I about died, it hurt so bad. Now every time the doctor walked in I wanted to get up and run. He suggested some more aggressive measures, namely a breast pump. I was desperate at this point so we got the breast pump hooked it up and there I sat for a half hour interval. It brought on painful, but consistant contractions. After a half hour I quit to give my poor boobs a break and then I tried it again. Around 10 a.m. the doctor comes back and wants to check again. I did not want to do it, but I also needed to know if any of this crazy stuff was working. This time he made me cry. It felt like he was reaching for my back bone, that’s how far back the baby was. I had reached my limit and I started to bawl. I felt so tired, uncomfortable, and didn’t know what to do. This was not how I pictured my birth experience. This was not glamorous, or spiritual, or serene.
Luckily at about this time, Rachel showed up on her own, bless her heart. I had no idea how great it would be to have her there and am so glad she decided to come. She was great to talk too. She wasn’t on the nursing staff and she was there to help me process what was going on and offer advice and suggestions. She sat and rubbed my feet while I expressed what was going on in my mind. Everyone was suggesting I take a nap and rest, because I was too exhausted and was going to wear myself out before anything major happened. I kept blowing off the idea, because I just wasn’t comfortable enough and was too emotionally upset to relax. The doctor finally suggested the epidural to help me relax and after some to think about it, I thought that would be the best way to go. If this ended in a c-section, at least I would already have the epidural and if I started to progress, at least I would be comfortable and maybe get some rest. Man, once that epidural was placed I was a whole nother woman. I wanted to kiss that man. After spending over 12 hours in discomfort, it was such a welcomed relief. Everyone left and I was left to rest. For some reason, I was still carrying so much tension in my upper body, that it was hard to sleep. After about an hour, I decided to get the show on the road. I got the breast pump back on and sat there like that for an hour. Wasn’t pleasant, but it got things moving again, or at least I hoped, and I wasn’t feeling the contractions. It is probably around 2:00 by this time and the doctor came in and told me that, honestly, I had given it a good try, but my body was just not going into active labor. There wasn’t really anything else we could do. He was willing to be patient if he saw signs that I was doing anything at all, but it had been so many hours and there was really no results. But he left it too me. After sitting and thinking, and talking to Rachel and Miguel, I finally came to terms that this was not going to work out for me. I was not going to get the VBAC. Apparently all the nursing staff was just waiting for me to quit and probably wondering what was taking me so long to throw in the towel.
Once Dr. Parker came in again, I was ready to give the consent, but he decided to check me one last time. And can you believe, I was a 4, and the baby had come down further than he ever had! There was progress! I was on an emotional rollercoaster. The Dr. looked at me in surprise and said that that was good, but we all knew I couldn’t sit on the breast pump for the next six hours. I was already bleeding after an hour. So what to do now? He brought up the idea of using pitocin. It is pretty much forbidden, because of legality issues, but he said he was willing to use it if I was o.k. with it. I said, heck yeah, and he said he would go talk to the nursing staff to see if they would be willing to turn their heads. You see the use of pitocin is forbidden because it can increase your risk of uterine rupture, but it would do the same thing the breast pump was doing, only save my poor nipples. Unfortunately he said the nursing staff liked their jobs too much and wouldn’t consent to it, so I really had no other choice than to go ahead with the c-section. I had given it all I could and done everything I could and it just wasn’t in the stars for me. I got dealt a rotten hand and tried to play it the best I could.
So at , Max was born. Right on his due date. That only happens 5% of the time, you know. They did make special arrangements for me, and Miguel and the baby were allowed to stay with me during the entire procedure, all the way till the final stitch. Usually they get rushed out to the nursery. So while I’m being sewed back together, I was able to smell and kiss that sweet baby. I was so exhausted that I kept telling everyone that I was going to pass out on the operating table. I could not hold my eyes open for the life of me. The c-section was odd in the sense that I could feel my legs still. I’ve never had an epidural or spinal that still allowed sensations in my legs and feet. It was a little freaky knowing that they were cutting me open and I was only totally numb in my belly. After the surgery, I was taken back to my room to recover and Rachel was there waiting with warm blankets to throw over me. They brought the baby to me and put him on my chest, but honestly, I couldn’t even hold him right. I don’t know if it was the drugs or exhaustion, but I just couldn’t hold him. And wouldn’t you know it, right at that moment, my girls arrived with my sister in law and husband. I wanted them to be there when they brought the baby out and have this great moment as a family, but I think I passed out for most of it. When I see pictures of Gabriela holding him, I really don’t remember that at all. The girls did bring me flowers which was cute and I’m so glad I had people to look after them. I eventually had them all go to the nursery with the baby to watch him get cleaned up and bathed. It was all just too much at the time. So now it was on to the long road of recovery for me.
So what do I think about all of this, now that I’ve had time to think about it? First, it is not what I planned or had envisioned. It was not glamorous and didn’t fit the protocol of any of the birthing books that I had read. I was prepared for natural NORMAL labor, but that’s not what I got. I feel like I really prepared and went out of my way for two to three months, just to end up right back where I started. It has made the recovery harder emotionally. I did not want to go through this again. Secondly, I’m frustrated with our medical systems in the sense that a hospital and nursing staff have more say than the doctor and the patient. I think we could have done it with the pitocin. If I’m willing to take the risk and the doctor is willing to put his neck out like that, who by the way, has delivered more than 7, 000 babies, then why the heck won’t they let us try it. It’s just crazy to me. I guess in the end, I’m just disappointed. I am grateful that the baby is super healthy and that I am recovering, even though it feels like it’s at a snail’s pace.
I will post my birth story when I can get off the meds and try to wrap my mind around what happened. But we are grateful that everyone is healthy and well and that we have our little baby brother with us finally.
Yep, that's me and the last couple of weeks in a nutshell.
(Warning: you may not want to know this)
I've tried:
Walking
Accupuncture
Accupressure
Washing the Floor on my hands and knees
Sex
Mowed the Lawn (like 3-4 times)
Food Poisoning (I'm counting that as my castor oil...produces the same result)
Membranes stripped multiple times
------ stimulation (if you don't know, you'll have to ask me)
Peppermint oil on the feet
Prayers...o.k., more like pleadings
the only thing I haven't tried are some herbal teas, but if all of these things haven't worked, I highly doubt some wimpy teas are going to do the trick. I guess I could try cooking some eggplant parmesan recipe I've heard of. Might as well cross everything off the list, right?
So after having a good old fashion, ugly cry, meltdown last Monday, I've come to terms that this son of mine is a circus performer and must be doing a hand stand down there and refuses to come out. (the meltdown could have been induced by the fact that my sis in-law, who was due three days after me, had her baby that night.)
I think this kid's nickname will be, Maximus Stubbornus!
So here is the recap of the rest of the week. On Saturday morning the Easter bunny arrived. It was the first time in my life that that has happened. Gabriela reminded me the day before that they had to leave their Easter baskets on the front steps outside (a tradition my mom started when I was in the hospital giving birth to Julianne...thanks mom) and she made a sign (see below) that read "NO EASTER GRASS." I guess she remembered how much I dislike Easter grass in my house, so she made the sign and stuck it on the mat in front of our house. Unfortunately it has been raining like crazy around here and the temperature was freezing that night, so I had to wake up at 5:30 in the morning to sneek them out there so we wouldn't have frozen peeps.
Good thing that Easter bunny can read the sign and he didn't disappoint.
He brought new swimsuits, puzzles, play-dough, word searches, buckets, and a little candy.
They look happy don't they
Poor peep didn't stand a chance.
Later that evening, I hosted an Easter egg party. We had the family over and pulled out all the art supplies and let them go at it. I can't say we ended up with any spectacular, award winning eggs, but the kids had fun in the process. It was raining, so we held the egg hunt in the basement. No my ideal egg hunt, but you just have to go with the flow sometimes and change your expectations.
And here are our Easter morning pictures before church.
I don't think I've taken a pregnancy picture this entire pregnancy, so here you go. 37 weeks.
And here is Julianne posing it up. (and wearing Sophia's shoes)
Here's the sign I was telling you about. It's awesome!
Can we say, large belly?
Sophia was not into the whole idea of spring colors yesterday. She was insistant on wearing all black.
It was a good day. I taught my easter egg lesson in sharing time in primary. We came home, ate, slept, had the easter egg lesson again for Julianne's sake, ate dinner, made resurrection rolls, and played games together as a family. It was simple, it was relaxed, and it was good.
You know you are in a hurry to get out of the OBGYN's office, when you pick up your kids at your friend's house and she has to tell you your pants are on backwards!
A while back, I had posted about trying to start some Easter traditions that were Christ centered. I am happy to report that it has been a wonderul experience. I have never in my life had such an Easter week before, and neither had Miguel for that matter. Each evening we have a devotional that focuses on the events that happened on that day during Christ's last week on Earth. On Sunday we talked about Palm Sunday and the meaning of palm trees. On Monday we went over Christ cleansing the temple. On Tuesday, we got to talk about parables and we made clay lamps (the girls are holding them in the picture) after the parable of the ten virgins. On Wednesday, we had a passover devotional, where the kids dressed up and we prepared snacks that would have been eaten at the time of Christ and watched a clip from the Ten Commandments and talked about the Last Supper and the initiation of the sacrament. Last night we talked about olive trees and the Garden of Gethsemane.
After each lesson we hang a picture on the fridge to show what happened that day and the whole family has been enriched by our small efforts this week. It feels good. I feel like I'm doing what I should be as a parent and taking the time to teach my kids important things each day. Too bad I can't keep it up all year. These lessons are super simple and there is so much room to build upon, but for right now...it is just enough and I think our Heavenly Father would be proud of us.
Stay tuned, we are not quite done yet. And I have a special Easter egg lesson prepared for the kids at primary on Sunday.
"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention to arrive safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming: Wow!! What a ride!"
"Family is the nest in which the soul is born, nurtured, and released into life."
