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So Rob and I have started cutting the proverbial cord. We went out last night...without the baby! My friend had a birthday dinner at a noisy restaurant/bar, which really wouldn't have been a great place for Jake, so my friend Gillian was kind enough to babysit for us.
Honestly, it went great. Jake and Gillian had a great time and I only texted home ONCE, though Gillian was thoughtful enough to send me back a second text later... very nice.
We only stayed out for a few hours... little steps, ya know. But the dinner was YUM... not helping in the getting back to my pre-pregnancy weight!
On that note, only about 7 pounds to go, give or take the day, but I'm finding those 7 pounds the hardest. This whole breastfeeding makes you shed pounds thing is now out the window for me. It lasted maybe a month. Ah well.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
The Whole Gory Story.... Finale
Well, eventually, I'm taken into another room and told to push a few times (here I don't really remember the actual order of things, but it doesn't really matter). I'm then given a pill and what I think is a small cup of water and am told it'll help neutralize the acid in my stomach. It was NOT water, and tasted like aniseed (BLECH, they could have warned me, I HATE aniseed). So of course I promptly bring it back up, along with my last dinner. Nice. They made me take another dose of the aniseed junk... SO not fair. A nice anesthesiologist man comes in and gives me an extra dose of epi, as they've decided I'm going to need to have an assisted delivery (forceps, vacuum). He tells me that the extra epi dose is for just in case they decide I need a C-section, they can do it right away without having to put me under first.
Someone hands me a form to sign to give them permission to do assisted delivery as well as the potential C-Section. I see my doctor, who is outwardly calm the entire time (if he was worried, there's no way you could tell) and tell him to do what he needs to do. I've still complete trust in him... probably his calm attitude helped.
Now, sufficiently drugged (and shaking, the epi made me shake like crazy from the waste up, which apparently is normal), I'm taken into a surgical suite and moved onto a steel surgical bed. blue paper surgery hat thing is put on my head, and I'm covered in monitor stickers, a blood pressure cuff is put on my arm and a heart rate thingy on my finger. Rob is by my head all decked out in blue that doesn't quite fit him either...including the booties. Doctor O starts at it and I have no idea what's going on because I can't see anything.
I'm told to push repeatedly. Can I now state that the way I was taught to push during the antenatal classes is NOT the way the midwife would let me push. She wanted me to hold my breath...which is exactly what the physiotherapist tells you NOT to do. These people should really talk it out!
Anyway, I push when I'm told as I can't fell the contractions. Rob tells me that Dr. O looked at him once he decided that the vacuum wasn't going to work and mouthed the word "forceps" to him. Apparently I didn't need to know. A few more pushes and Jacob was out, 7:06 AM. I later found out that if Jacob hadn't come on that last push, he was then going to do a C-Section. Thank God he came! By then I did NOT want a C-Section. Twelve hours of THIS to then have surgery! No thank you!
I saw Jacob in the arms of someone flash by me as they took him to see the pediatrician. It was a good 10 minutes before they brought him to us, the whole while I'm trying to see him through the crowd of people around him. Rob says he had oxygen on him, so his crying wasn't that loud. I do believe it took him a little while to cry though. From what I can best guess, the lengthy birth process really tired him out so he needed assistance at birth. Ok, as long as he's ok in the long run, I can handle it.
So they brought him over to us all wrapped up and was told to give him a kiss before he headed out to baby ICU (because of the gestational diabetes, he needed to be checked out there first). We both kiss him, and I say, "He looks like a Jacob William, right?" Rob agreed and there the name was settled.
I think then Rob was sent packing to get some sleep and I was put back on a bed (eventually) and was wheeled to a room to rest. I think I woke about 4 hours later (still immobile from the epi) but was given toast and some tea (lovely!). Sometime around noon I was wheeled up to one of the new-mommy wards where I shared a room with a woman who had been in the hospital for 9 weeks and who's baby was born preemie.
Rob came back to me later that day and we were allowed to go see Jacob in baby ICU. He was so tiny and red (as new babies are) but his oxygen was off and he looked good. We were allowed to put out hands into his incubator thingy. Eventually I got tired so we headed back to my room. I think I slept a lot then. I went, well, waddled back up (episiotome, baby!) and attempted to breast feed Jacob. Those midwives are MEAN, they kept on pinching my nipples. OW!!
Of course, nothing happened, but it was good to try.
Noon the next day they brought Jake to my room. Poor guy, his head was covered in scratches from all the things they did to him during the delivery... taking oxygen, attaching the monitor, vaccum and forceps. Dr. O came to visit and stated that he was really glad he didn't have to do a C Section. He reiterated that throughout the next few days... which makes me think he WAS really worried, but just didn't want to scare me. But no matter, I now am the proud mother of a healthy, gorgeous little boy... and I'm SO happy!!!!
Someone hands me a form to sign to give them permission to do assisted delivery as well as the potential C-Section. I see my doctor, who is outwardly calm the entire time (if he was worried, there's no way you could tell) and tell him to do what he needs to do. I've still complete trust in him... probably his calm attitude helped.
Now, sufficiently drugged (and shaking, the epi made me shake like crazy from the waste up, which apparently is normal), I'm taken into a surgical suite and moved onto a steel surgical bed. blue paper surgery hat thing is put on my head, and I'm covered in monitor stickers, a blood pressure cuff is put on my arm and a heart rate thingy on my finger. Rob is by my head all decked out in blue that doesn't quite fit him either...including the booties. Doctor O starts at it and I have no idea what's going on because I can't see anything.
I'm told to push repeatedly. Can I now state that the way I was taught to push during the antenatal classes is NOT the way the midwife would let me push. She wanted me to hold my breath...which is exactly what the physiotherapist tells you NOT to do. These people should really talk it out!
Anyway, I push when I'm told as I can't fell the contractions. Rob tells me that Dr. O looked at him once he decided that the vacuum wasn't going to work and mouthed the word "forceps" to him. Apparently I didn't need to know. A few more pushes and Jacob was out, 7:06 AM. I later found out that if Jacob hadn't come on that last push, he was then going to do a C-Section. Thank God he came! By then I did NOT want a C-Section. Twelve hours of THIS to then have surgery! No thank you!
I saw Jacob in the arms of someone flash by me as they took him to see the pediatrician. It was a good 10 minutes before they brought him to us, the whole while I'm trying to see him through the crowd of people around him. Rob says he had oxygen on him, so his crying wasn't that loud. I do believe it took him a little while to cry though. From what I can best guess, the lengthy birth process really tired him out so he needed assistance at birth. Ok, as long as he's ok in the long run, I can handle it.
So they brought him over to us all wrapped up and was told to give him a kiss before he headed out to baby ICU (because of the gestational diabetes, he needed to be checked out there first). We both kiss him, and I say, "He looks like a Jacob William, right?" Rob agreed and there the name was settled.
I think then Rob was sent packing to get some sleep and I was put back on a bed (eventually) and was wheeled to a room to rest. I think I woke about 4 hours later (still immobile from the epi) but was given toast and some tea (lovely!). Sometime around noon I was wheeled up to one of the new-mommy wards where I shared a room with a woman who had been in the hospital for 9 weeks and who's baby was born preemie.
Rob came back to me later that day and we were allowed to go see Jacob in baby ICU. He was so tiny and red (as new babies are) but his oxygen was off and he looked good. We were allowed to put out hands into his incubator thingy. Eventually I got tired so we headed back to my room. I think I slept a lot then. I went, well, waddled back up (episiotome, baby!) and attempted to breast feed Jacob. Those midwives are MEAN, they kept on pinching my nipples. OW!!
Of course, nothing happened, but it was good to try.
Noon the next day they brought Jake to my room. Poor guy, his head was covered in scratches from all the things they did to him during the delivery... taking oxygen, attaching the monitor, vaccum and forceps. Dr. O came to visit and stated that he was really glad he didn't have to do a C Section. He reiterated that throughout the next few days... which makes me think he WAS really worried, but just didn't want to scare me. But no matter, I now am the proud mother of a healthy, gorgeous little boy... and I'm SO happy!!!!
The Whole Gory Story... Part 3
Wow, I didn't realize how long it's been between posts. I suppose having a baby on your breast CONSTANTLY makes the time go quickly!
So, where am I? I've now been given the epidural and the pain is slowly fading away. Heaven! I was then told I had to be very careful to not damage the epi line in my back... but of course the midwife is then calling me over and over to move, "Jennifer! You need to move onto your left side," "Jennifer, I need to do a pelvic exam so I need you to move onto your back." WTF! How am I supposed to not damage my line if I'm constantly in motion? And of course, as the night wore on, they had to re-up the epidural, so I then lost any ability to move my legs to help people move me. The second dose of epi-drug made me totally immobile from the waste down. Poor Rob had to move me, shove me here, pull me there. Poor guy, he really was a trooper! That's one of the difficult things about being a larger woman on an epidural, it's much more difficult for people to move you, especially when you're a dead weight.
By now I have lost all sense of time. I know it's late enough that Rob can't go and get food because everything's closed, and all that's left of what I packed for him is trail mix. Ugh.
The epi made me want to sleep...since I couldn't feel the contractions, I might as well sleep through them, right? Well, I did that as much as possible, in between being forced to move. I think Rob even got a few minutes of shut eye. And I mean FEW. But you take what you can get, right? I think the worse part for me was when the midwife woke me up because the baby's heartbeat was dropping during each contraction. They had a doctor come in twice to take a blood sample from Jacob's scalp to check the oxygen levels. Both times they were in the safe zone (second time was borderline), so I didn't really worry.
I did my best to not worry. Instead I chose to have complete faith in my doctor. I think that may have helped because you never know what your stress can do to a baby.
So, where am I? I've now been given the epidural and the pain is slowly fading away. Heaven! I was then told I had to be very careful to not damage the epi line in my back... but of course the midwife is then calling me over and over to move, "Jennifer! You need to move onto your left side," "Jennifer, I need to do a pelvic exam so I need you to move onto your back." WTF! How am I supposed to not damage my line if I'm constantly in motion? And of course, as the night wore on, they had to re-up the epidural, so I then lost any ability to move my legs to help people move me. The second dose of epi-drug made me totally immobile from the waste down. Poor Rob had to move me, shove me here, pull me there. Poor guy, he really was a trooper! That's one of the difficult things about being a larger woman on an epidural, it's much more difficult for people to move you, especially when you're a dead weight.
By now I have lost all sense of time. I know it's late enough that Rob can't go and get food because everything's closed, and all that's left of what I packed for him is trail mix. Ugh.
The epi made me want to sleep...since I couldn't feel the contractions, I might as well sleep through them, right? Well, I did that as much as possible, in between being forced to move. I think Rob even got a few minutes of shut eye. And I mean FEW. But you take what you can get, right? I think the worse part for me was when the midwife woke me up because the baby's heartbeat was dropping during each contraction. They had a doctor come in twice to take a blood sample from Jacob's scalp to check the oxygen levels. Both times they were in the safe zone (second time was borderline), so I didn't really worry.
I did my best to not worry. Instead I chose to have complete faith in my doctor. I think that may have helped because you never know what your stress can do to a baby.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Happy Birthday
My baby is 1 month old today! I can't believe it! If the time is flying fast now, Lord help me! He'll be graduating from high school in 3 blinks!
Baby Slings...Any Suggestions
When I was home for Christmas, my sister-in-law Rebecca gave me her Baby Bjorn for when our baby was born. I remember using it with my niece Ava when she was 3 months old, and I thought it was really nice to be able to decorate the Christmas tree with her grabbing for the shiny baubles. But when we tried Jake in it, he screamed bloody murder. I think maybe it pulled at his legs too much since he's still so little, so he may not take to the Baby Bjorn for a while yet. But that doesn't mean I want to wait to use a baby carrier with Jake for another few months. My friends Silja and Will had slings made called Mei Tai's when they had twins, and I loved how sturdy and supportive they looked. But I have to think about my size. I really would like to have a baby carrier to use with Jake but I don't want to invest the money only to have it not fit properly. A friend's friend on Facebook loves her BabyNest as she has a big chest like I do, but I need to also think about my clothes size. So... anyone out there have a suggestion for me for a baby sling/carrier that is supportive and fits a large woman who's well endowed? I'd also like for my husband to be able to use it and he's a big guy too, and broad shouldered. Any ideas??
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The Whole Gory Story...Part 2
Ok, so where we left off, I had been having prostin pains for 19 hours and the doctor had just said I was allowed to be induced.
It's now Monday evening at 7pm and I'm taken to a very nice private birthing suit. I waddle and roll my way up onto the birthday bed (which I have to point out was MUCH more comfortable than their regular beds). Dr. O and his minions poke and prod me a bit more before breaking my water...which really hurts! Out gushes a huge amount of embryonic fluid, which actually felt like a relief, but which made a huge mess. I was then asked to get out of the bed so they could change the sheets and clean the bed. When asked if I could clean off, I was told that I'd be getting much messier so there wasn't really a point. I think I was given a towel to at least dry off on.
So I lumber back onto the bed and they start the oxytocin. I ask when I can have an epidural (after 19 hours of prostin pains I realize that I'm going to need one) and am told I have to be 3 centimeters dilated before they can drug me that way. So I ask about the petadin, which I had previously said no to. I was told that they usually only let you have one or the other. Drat! I should have taken it when I had the chance!
Well, the labour pains come in strong and fast. I am given the nitrous-oxide gas to breath, which makes me a bit nauseated and dizzy, but luckily I am lying down! I remember trying very hard to do the correct breathing. After a few horrible contractions, I decide to try out my friend Valerie's advice and to sing/yell through the pain. So, I take a huge breath and yell for as long as I can. Rob said the gas mask really dampened the sound. 3 or 4 good contractions later and I'm SO ready for an epidural, and am barely coherent. I think I told Rob he's crazy if he thinks we're doing this again! It was about this time that I was told that they were short staffed so I'd have to be brought to the public ward.
I'm wheeled out of my lovely room to a public ward, and behind a curtain. To be honest, I don't remember much of the ward because my eyes were closed for most of it, and when they were open, all I saw was my side of the curtain. I do remember hearing other women whimpering in pain and felt a little guilty for the amount of sound I was producing. At least I breathed from my diaphragm and yelled with my abs! No vocal abuse here!
After about an hour (I think), I'm told I'm 1 centimeter dilated. So I calculate that I'll have to have 10 more contractions before I'm dilated enough for an epidural. I yell through them with Rob by my side, though again, I can't remember much. The nitrous-oxide gas really makes you a zombie.
Ten contractions later and I start asking for the epidural. I believe I was nice about it, unlike my next door neighbor ('gimmie the f-in epidural!'). The lovely midwives go and get the anesthesiologist on call. When he comes, I'm in the middle of a contraction. As he's preparing me for the epidural, he tells me I have to stop yelling so he can focus. That was probably the hardest thing I had to do. So I sit up to the side of the bed, wrap my arms around a pillow and whimper along through a few contractions as he sticks me full of lovely, pain numbing drugs. To be honest, I think maybe that way of dealing with the contractions was probably better than the yelling. They hurt just as much, but maybe the physiotherapist was right when teaching us how to breath properly in our antenatal class. Regardless, as much of a jackass I have in mind that anesthesiologist to be, he drugged me, so he's my hero. :)
It's now Monday evening at 7pm and I'm taken to a very nice private birthing suit. I waddle and roll my way up onto the birthday bed (which I have to point out was MUCH more comfortable than their regular beds). Dr. O and his minions poke and prod me a bit more before breaking my water...which really hurts! Out gushes a huge amount of embryonic fluid, which actually felt like a relief, but which made a huge mess. I was then asked to get out of the bed so they could change the sheets and clean the bed. When asked if I could clean off, I was told that I'd be getting much messier so there wasn't really a point. I think I was given a towel to at least dry off on.
So I lumber back onto the bed and they start the oxytocin. I ask when I can have an epidural (after 19 hours of prostin pains I realize that I'm going to need one) and am told I have to be 3 centimeters dilated before they can drug me that way. So I ask about the petadin, which I had previously said no to. I was told that they usually only let you have one or the other. Drat! I should have taken it when I had the chance!
Well, the labour pains come in strong and fast. I am given the nitrous-oxide gas to breath, which makes me a bit nauseated and dizzy, but luckily I am lying down! I remember trying very hard to do the correct breathing. After a few horrible contractions, I decide to try out my friend Valerie's advice and to sing/yell through the pain. So, I take a huge breath and yell for as long as I can. Rob said the gas mask really dampened the sound. 3 or 4 good contractions later and I'm SO ready for an epidural, and am barely coherent. I think I told Rob he's crazy if he thinks we're doing this again! It was about this time that I was told that they were short staffed so I'd have to be brought to the public ward.
I'm wheeled out of my lovely room to a public ward, and behind a curtain. To be honest, I don't remember much of the ward because my eyes were closed for most of it, and when they were open, all I saw was my side of the curtain. I do remember hearing other women whimpering in pain and felt a little guilty for the amount of sound I was producing. At least I breathed from my diaphragm and yelled with my abs! No vocal abuse here!
After about an hour (I think), I'm told I'm 1 centimeter dilated. So I calculate that I'll have to have 10 more contractions before I'm dilated enough for an epidural. I yell through them with Rob by my side, though again, I can't remember much. The nitrous-oxide gas really makes you a zombie.
Ten contractions later and I start asking for the epidural. I believe I was nice about it, unlike my next door neighbor ('gimmie the f-in epidural!'). The lovely midwives go and get the anesthesiologist on call. When he comes, I'm in the middle of a contraction. As he's preparing me for the epidural, he tells me I have to stop yelling so he can focus. That was probably the hardest thing I had to do. So I sit up to the side of the bed, wrap my arms around a pillow and whimper along through a few contractions as he sticks me full of lovely, pain numbing drugs. To be honest, I think maybe that way of dealing with the contractions was probably better than the yelling. They hurt just as much, but maybe the physiotherapist was right when teaching us how to breath properly in our antenatal class. Regardless, as much of a jackass I have in mind that anesthesiologist to be, he drugged me, so he's my hero. :)
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
The Whole Gory Storey...Part 1
Ok, so I finally have a few moments while Rob is watching Jacob, dad is cleaning our dishes (woo hoo!) and mom is reading a book to put down our dear son's birth story.
Sunday evening, 17th May, I went into the Coombe hospital for the induction. We got there about 6:30 and I got to my room about 7pm. Of course, my file wasn't where it should be... I think my doctor's people forgot to send it to admissions. What that meant for me, though, was that they couldn't start the induction without the file. So I sat around until about 10:30 and nothing happened. By then I was a bit frustrated because it meant spending the night in the hospital NOT going into labor. So Rob left about 10:30 and I settled down for a night of disappoinment. LUCKILY, some lovely soul did go retrieve my file, so about 11pm a doctor appeared to give me the gel, Prostin to ripen my cervix. Yippie! The gel itself was a bit tingly feeling...not QUITE stinging, but not althogether unpleasant.
After the gel, I had to stay in bed for an hour to make sure it did it's work. Of course, that's when my bladder decided it needed to be emptied. I at least made it to the end of that hour. Just about midnight, I started having 'prostin pains' which are (I assume) similar to some beginning contration pains. For me, they lasted about 20 seconds and came 2-5 minutes apart. Now, one or two of these pains isn't really all that bad. But by noon on Monday, I was pretty fed up with them; kind of like Chinese water torture. My doctor came in later that day to check (poke around) my cervix (that time the examination hurt) and decided to give me another dose of Prostin.
Can I just stop here a moment and comment on my newfound hatred of the fetal monitor machines? I think they should rename them the pregnant woman torture device. I was put on this damned monitor several times during my stay. Each time, I was asked to hold one of the monitor bits in place to make sure they could maintain the heartbeat. Which is all well and good, until they come back 30 mintues later (after saying they'd be back in 20 minutes), your back is aching now and your arm is about to fall off from pressing the monitor on your belly. The midwife THEN says, 'oh, let's give it a few more minutes,' and disappears for another half hour! Grrrr. I am NOT a fan.
Alright, back to the story. I have now been having 'prostin pains' for 19 hours (ow ow ow ow ow!!), have decided against taking the petadin morphine shot, been given one more painful vaginal assault and have FINALLY been told they can break my waters....
Sunday evening, 17th May, I went into the Coombe hospital for the induction. We got there about 6:30 and I got to my room about 7pm. Of course, my file wasn't where it should be... I think my doctor's people forgot to send it to admissions. What that meant for me, though, was that they couldn't start the induction without the file. So I sat around until about 10:30 and nothing happened. By then I was a bit frustrated because it meant spending the night in the hospital NOT going into labor. So Rob left about 10:30 and I settled down for a night of disappoinment. LUCKILY, some lovely soul did go retrieve my file, so about 11pm a doctor appeared to give me the gel, Prostin to ripen my cervix. Yippie! The gel itself was a bit tingly feeling...not QUITE stinging, but not althogether unpleasant.
After the gel, I had to stay in bed for an hour to make sure it did it's work. Of course, that's when my bladder decided it needed to be emptied. I at least made it to the end of that hour. Just about midnight, I started having 'prostin pains' which are (I assume) similar to some beginning contration pains. For me, they lasted about 20 seconds and came 2-5 minutes apart. Now, one or two of these pains isn't really all that bad. But by noon on Monday, I was pretty fed up with them; kind of like Chinese water torture. My doctor came in later that day to check (poke around) my cervix (that time the examination hurt) and decided to give me another dose of Prostin.
Can I just stop here a moment and comment on my newfound hatred of the fetal monitor machines? I think they should rename them the pregnant woman torture device. I was put on this damned monitor several times during my stay. Each time, I was asked to hold one of the monitor bits in place to make sure they could maintain the heartbeat. Which is all well and good, until they come back 30 mintues later (after saying they'd be back in 20 minutes), your back is aching now and your arm is about to fall off from pressing the monitor on your belly. The midwife THEN says, 'oh, let's give it a few more minutes,' and disappears for another half hour! Grrrr. I am NOT a fan.
Alright, back to the story. I have now been having 'prostin pains' for 19 hours (ow ow ow ow ow!!), have decided against taking the petadin morphine shot, been given one more painful vaginal assault and have FINALLY been told they can break my waters....
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