Showing posts with label Birth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Birth. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Birth Story Pt 2

Here is the part one of the birth day.

Now we are on on to part two- where all the excitement begins.

I should also mention that I asked my Grammie if she would be there on the delivery day to take pictures for us. 
Nothing too graphic, just everything leading up to the birth and then the details right after- cutting of the cord, holding her for the first time, getting weighed etc, etc. 

Little did I know I would be getting both National Geographic shots and the other details, but I am so thankful for these photos, nonetheless!

There will be no pictures in this post until the end, but trust me- it's for your own good and it's worth it!

So I begin pushing.

And pushing.

And pushing.

And getting frustrated.

And more frustrated.

And more frustrated.

All those smiles that I had the whole day were quickly disappearing at that point.

That is, until I was pushing and farting.

Yeah, that's how mature I am.

Every time I would push and fart I would mess it all up because I would start laughing. 

Mature, I know.

This is where I wasn't a huge fan of the epideral. I am thankful that I didn't feel hours and hours of painful contractions because I am sure I would have been completely exhausted when it came time to push. I was thankful that the epidural had worn off enough that I was able to feel when a contraction was coming and when I needed to push, but I wasn't able to tell if I was making any progress or even if I was really pushing or pushing right.

To be honest, the only way I could tell I was pushing and pushing correctly was when I was farting!

Hey, they tell you to push like you're's bound to happen!

And for the record, I never pooped on the table. 

Of course at this point, with the occasional chuckles at my passing of gas, all modest is so far out the window. I don't even know where it is. 

I continue pushing, I got into the groove, my epideral continued to wear off and they were telling me I was doing great.

They could see her head, they could see her hair and they asked if I wanted the mirror.

I didn't.

They thought it would help me and I would enjoy it.

So I gave it a shot.

I hated it. 

Not because it was too gory or gross, but because in my head I was thinking I was making way more progress than I was. 

When they said they could see her head....we are talking like the size of a quarter.

I was picturing the head. 

Not her cowlick. 

So I quickly told them to take that away, that I was doing better thinking I was nearing the end.

It was starting to get more painful {duh} and you know how previously I stated I didn't like that the epidural was allowing me not to feel my pushing very well...well, at this point in the game, I was ready for an overdose of that stuff. 

I was kind of wishing I had clicked the trigger throughout the day. At least once or twice!

I started pushing at 8:15 by 10:15 the Dr tells me there's about 30 minutes left.

The past two hours actually went by fairly fast so I knew this next 30 minutes would fly by.

Let me tell ya, these last 30 minutes were the worst.

It's the part that I am still trying forget about. 

First of all, "ouch" would be a complete understatement. 

Second of all, the ring of fire is no joke and much much more than a Johnny Cash song.

This was the most painful thing in my entire life.

Up until this point I was doing really well, there were times when I was a tiny bit snippy {I prefer the word focused}, but I was still able to smile, joke, laugh at my farts and talk.

But no more.

This was all out the window with my modesty somewhere.

Around 10:20 I started feeling sick.

So not only are we lingering in the ring of fire waiting for contractions but now my nausea kicks in. 

Well, for those of you have been following my pregnancy you know that I have been throwing up the whole time. Since 6 weeks. Throwing up once a week, sometime multiple times a day for 33 straight weeks. 

So of course I can't end my pregnancy without doing so. It just wouldn't be complete.  It would be wrong.

Unfortunately they didn't find a puke bucket fast enough and I got sick. 

In their defense it verrry quickly turned from "I feel sick" to "here it comes!"

Not only did I get sick- I got sick with my hand over my face. Laying down. 
It goes a little something like this:
hand over mouth + laying down=throw up to go
- on my face, on my gown and all in my hair. 

Because, you know, the whole legs wide open-bleeding-farting thing going on wasn't glamorous enough.

At that point I thought I had died. 

Both the nurse and my mom were wiping down my hair and face with wet cloths and all I could see was the bright light above me.  It felt like an ER scene in a movie, ha! {hmm too much TV for me maybe?}

So I get sick, dry heave, the whole shebang, meanwhile there's a baby head half way out my woo-hoo.

I get a new gown, and thankfully, as unfortunate as that whole incident was, it ended being a good refresher and refocus for me. 

This was the final stretch. 

And the most painful thing of my entire life.

Oh, I said that that I already?

Well it really was. 

Oh. my. goodness.

Hard to believe it is something so natural because in the moment it certainly doesn't feel like it.

It got a little scary towards the end, I needed to slow down my pushing {which is really hard!} because the cord was wrapped around her neck. We were actually worried about that when we saw our 3D ultrasound because it looked like she was wearing a scarf! This part didn't phase me too much because I was in too much pain and too focused on getting her out- she just told me when to stop pushing, I never really knew the cord was around her neck until after. 

The Dr. was right on about the time and by 10:36 Adalyn arrived!

Apparently, she came out looking a little blue and both my mom and Mr. B were a little nervous.
{Again, something I'm glad I didn't know or see}

She quickly gained color, cried her sweet little cry for about 10 seconds and they placed her on me.

On my face. 


I was trying really hard to soak in the moment, but I'm not gonna lie- I was a little grossed out. 

I did a good job hiding that, huh? Ha!

Then I realized I shouldn't look quite so grossed out by my own child..

I wasn't kidding, see the blood on my cheek?
My mom was quick to wipe it up for me so I wouldn't have it for the rest of the pictures. 
Thanks, mom!

Mr. B was in tears right away.
{Making me look bad, but the whole bloody face thing threw off my tears}

I still couldn't believe what just happened and how painful that was.

Shortly after all of that Mr. B cut her cord.
She had the longest fingers and monkey toes. 

She weighed in at 7.9 and was 21" inches tall and her head was 14" in diameters.

We were both overflowing with love and marveling at her cuteness.

She was so alert and stayed awake for a few hours

The delivery was extra special AND history making because this is the same Dr who delivered me 24 years ago. I was the first one that she delivered that she also delivered for.

 I was so blessed to be surrounded by such awesome family. 

Mama Grace & Mr. B were great coaches- even though my mom's counting changed octaves due to her excitement and it annoyed me. 

My Grammie took wonderful pictures to document such an important day- some a little graphic and I have no idea what to do with them, but they are amazing and I am so so thankful for them.
First family photo

4 generations 

Papa G and Mr. B's family were troopers waiting around all day. 

Proud dad{s}

Proud grandpas.

It was a long day,  9:30am-10:36pm, but worth every.single. minute. 

We are so very blessed. 

This guy amazed me.
I saw a whole other side to him those few days in the hospital that I had never seen before.
And I know I will have a lot more of those moments in the near future. 

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

The Birth Story Pt 1

 Adalyn is going to be a month old tomorrow {GASP!} and I still haven't written the birth story.

Or her 3 weeks update....which doesn't consist of much, but still!

This is not good- I really need to get better at documenting. I don't have a baby book yet, this is all I have and I know I am going to forget if I don't get to writing these things so I am going to try real hard to be more disciplined about it. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

That was when I started this she IS one month old. 6 weeks to be exact.

Now I have the birth story, other misc events, 1 month AND Christmas. 

Oh yeah and now it's a NEW YEAR!

It's seriously time to get serious. 

Or if we could just stop time for a few days that would be great too. 

At this rate she may even be a year old by the time I get to posting.


Oh and I have decided to split this into two post since it's pretty lengthy.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I went in for my 38 week check up on November 16th and found out that Adalyn was head down, I was 1.5 cm dialated and 70% effaced. My Dr. thought that she would most likely be making her appearance after Thanksgiving, she wanted to make a quick appointment right before Thanksgiving just to make sure everything was okay and then we would schedule another appointment for the 28th and talk induction if needed. 

After that check up I knew it was game on

I bought an exercise ball and bounced and bounced and bounced.

I went on looooong walks almost every day.

I drank raspberry leaf tea every day. 

I drank hot chocolate every day.

I ate pineapple.

I ate chinese.

I ate Mexican.

I took long baths.

And I did other...things that people say works that is really uncomfortable and unenjoyable when you're 9 months pregnant and feel like a whale.

I realized while doing all of the above that it really only works if your body and the baby are ready.

And who is to say what really works for them. 

Isn't it kind of a fluke? You could walk every day and then one day you walk and you go into labor so then walking is what did it? Ya know? I'm not totally convinced. 

But since this is how it appears to work that way my induction tool was this...
Eggplant Parmesan. 

I've never had that before, but I read online that that is supposed to work. Mr B's parent's were in town and they coincindently chose to have dinner at an Italian place so I figured I'd go for it.

Fyi- it tastes like chicken.

I also tried to get my niece to send some loving, kicking vibes to Adalyn.
She really wanted to meet her cousin.

I took our picture just in case it was our last night out- I was believing in this eggplant.

The next morning I had my 39 week check up at 8:30.  It was supposed to be on Tuesday night, but I changed it to Monday  morning the week before with hopes that there would be some progress.

Good thing I did!

I went into the appointment expecting little change if any. I wasn't really in pain or anything like I was in the weeks before, but I was still keeping my fingers crossed.

The Dr. came in, she did her check and to both of our surprise in just those few days I had progressed to 
3 cm, -1 station and very ripe cervix. 

" you want to have the baby today?"


Thank you, Eggplant Parm.

Mr B and I were freaking out- both nervous and excited. We couldn't believe it was actually going to happen. 

My Dr. knew I really wanted to have her before Thanksgiving because of all the family that was in town {and I'm sure she wanted to enjoy her holiday as well!}

So we call our parents and let them know it's go time. 

They said that this was more of an "augmentation" than an induction. 

My body was ready- they were just helping to speed up the process. 

I originally didn't want an induction, so finding out it was an augmentation made me feel better. 

Whether it really meant anything different than an induction or not who cares at this point! 

I was just so happy she would be here BEFORE Thanksgiving and with both our families in town. 

So my Dr. breaks my water in her office, which is connected to the hospital, she gives me one of those pad liners meant for the bed and tells me to put it in my pants and head over to labor and delivery and they will take care of me. 

Still a little in shock and everything feeling so surreal, that's what we did. 

Waddling {even more}.

And feeling rather gross, wet and self conscious. 

{Sidenote: my Dr. is a great Dr and I am so glad to have had her- why I was walking all around the hospital with my water pouring out and onto my jeans....I have no idea!!}

We get to the room, I go to the bathroom and continue to have my water leaking everywherrrrre.

There was zero control.

It was slightly embarrassing, but I quickly realized this is just the beginning of my modesty going out the window. 

The nurse that I had first I was so not a fan of. 

She claims to have been working there for 25 years, but you would think she was new to the job. 

And she vocalized that.

She didn't appear too confident in anything she was doing and she let us know. 

She told me she is very messy with IVs, but she cleans it up after.

So don't worry.

She had me take off my rings so the blood doesn't get on them.


She went for it and I let her know I am pretty sure that was my wrist bone.

She agreed and kept doing her thing. 

laugh or cry. laugh or cry.
This lady was nuts!

Fear began to set in a little as I realized she could be my nurse the whole time.

She continues to trip over IV cords, be wishy-washy with the dose of my pitocin and umm dissing my Dr with comments here and there. 

Then my heart stopped as It was time for me to be checked to see the progress I was making. My Dr. was busy in her office and the nurse had mentioned that if she doesn't get her shortly then she will have to check me. 

I am sorry, but there is no other response {mentally, of course} other then helllllll no!!!!!

The checks are painful enough with a competent Dr, no way did I want this lady all up in my vi vi.

As she was putting on her Dr. walked in.

Que the hallelujah chorus.

Serious answer to prayer. 

{ I had to lift my arm up over my head during contractions because it was really hurting my ribs on that side}

They didn't believe me that I was really contracting that much {without looking at the screen of course} so they told me to look like I am having contractions...
I couldn't really do it with out smiling though.
But they were real!

I was progressing nicely- it was 3:30 and I was 5-6 cm and I was contracting about every 1.5 - 3 minutes.
The contractions at this point where getting a lot more intense, but still bearable.
{This is a real contraction face- when they were getting more intense}

I knew from the beginning that I wanted an epideral- they offered it to me at this point, I thought I could probably go another hour or so without it, but they told me that you never know if the anesthesiologist would be busy when I need it, he could be busy now and not come for another hour, we could miss it if I progress too quickly etc etc, so I just decided to go with it. 
{Loved the anesthesiologist btw! Which is a good thing when you are making a potentially paralyzing decision!}



 I couldn't believe all the contractions I was having and not feeling a single thing. 

I also couldn't believe the lack of control I was having on my umm...excretion of gas, if you will.


But again, modest is hanging by a thread out the window by now and I was too worried about pooping during labor that I wasn't too horrified by my uncontrolled gas passing.

I tried resting, but it was near impossible- I was too excited and nervous.

Time ticked by and we all sat around for the next couple hours.

 By 7:30 I was 9 cm and almost ready to roll.

At this point, I was feeling my contractions but they weren't painful just pressure.
{My dad hiding while I am getting my final check}

At about 8:15 I was about 10 cm and it was go time!
Saying our goodbyes until after the grand baby arrives!

I was told it would probably be about 2.5-3 hours until baby arrived.

I was in denial and thought for sure that was too long and she would be here before that. 

My dad, Mr. B's parents and his sister waited in the waiting room.

We turned up Scotty McCreery 
and the pushing began.

PS- I tweeted Scotty and told him his music helped me through my labor.

Never heard back.
Is he busy or something??
Or probably weirded out. 
Mr. B reminded me he is only 17 and probably didn't know how to react to such details...

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Catch Up

I still have a lot to blog about.

Like this




and this 

But today snuggles, cleaning, laundry, baby clothes {No more newborn and barely 0-3!} and a Christmas blog re-do took priority.

One day soon I will blog about such things.

Especially because I don't want to forget the details and the days are flying by- I really can't believe we are almost at one month.

You have GOT to be kidding me. 

Anyways, enjoy staring at that cute little santa on top.

Can she be any cuter?! 

I know, I am biased.

But still... ;)

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Skinny Cow

This whole "new mom bod" thing is really weird.

I'm skinny, but I'm fat.

I'm not quite sure how to handle it. 

I feel like I am Biggest Loser finale material.

The drastic change accompanied by the loose skin.

But it happened in two weeks  and I hardly worked.

Yet, I worked the hardest and experienced the most pain I ever have in my life.

And still trying to forget about it.

A couple days before I had Adalyn I really didn't think I was that big. 

 Strangers made it clear they thought otherwise though.

Now looking back at pictures I see that I was that big. 

And now I feel small.

But I don't.

I'm back to my pre-pregnancy weight and I fit into all my clothes.

But there's a little big something extra sagging in the front. 

It's weird.

And squishy.

And jiggly.

It does look tan though so that helps a teeny tiny bit. 

And when I say "tan" I mean it's darker skin from stretching out and coming back into droopy land.

We won't even talk about what my belly button looks like.

Of course Adalyn is worth every bit of it. 

And I realize it could be a lot worse. 

But it's just a weird phase to feel so skinny, but also so fat. 

And when I say "so skinny"- it's in comparison to this.
And this

So right now, I am enjoying my little girl and all the snuggles.

The quick and easy weight loss {and I'm not even breastfeeding}

And speaking of my boobs....those took on a whole new look of their own as well,
but we won't go there either. 

So maybe in about 4 weeks Jillian Michaels and I will reunite to try and conquer this whole pouch situation.

But until then I think the term Skinny Cow is a fair assessment :)