WARNING!!!! This is a very long post and pretty detailed. If you don't feel like getting information in detail about my labor, you probably don't want to read this. I use this blog as a journal so it's pretty in depth.
The Birth Story of Marquette Hiatt Shumway
Where
do I begin? I guess we can start back two weeks ago. On Wednesday the 3rd
of November, I came home from having worked 2 shifts in a row. When I took my
shoes and changed clothes and sat with Derek, I noticed that my feet were
swollen beyond compare. Not only were my feet swollen, but my calves were as
well. When I put my finger into where my ankle was supposed to be located, I
noted +3 pitting edema. It was really bad. At first I thought nothing of it.
But then I started to recall the signs of PIH/Preeclampsia/Toxemia (headache,
high blood pressure, protein in urine, etc.) I remember that for almost the
entire day I had suffered from a headache, but I had brushed it off as having
no sleep since I literally was at the point of getting up and peeing almost
every hour at night. So I decided that I would simply check my blood pressure
in the morning when I went to work. No big deal.
The
next morning when I went to work my charge nurse asked me if I wanted to be a
float nurse or go to triage. I told him that I would prefer to go to triage as
my ankles were very swollen. I proceeded
to show my charge nurse, clinical educator, and another nurse my feet to which
they all noted that the swelling was severe. I told them that I wanted to check
my blood pressure. The first reading
173/85, second reading 141/101, third reading at another time 163/95. My
baseline blood pressure is 110/65. This was the point that I began to freak
out. My charge nurse and the rest of the staff told me that I needed to call my
doctor. I did. And yes, he told me to go to the Labor and Delivery at the
hospital. Shoot. To make a long story short, the nurse was amazed at how
swollen my feet were, I had blood drawn, and IV, an ultrasound, etc. and 2
hours later I was that my blood levels were normal enough and my blood pressure
had lowered enough (it had slowly come down while I was there) that I could go
home. THANK GOODNESS. But I was to go on immediate Maternity Leave and report
to my OBGYN the next day at 9am. Awesome….
My
OBGYN checked my blood pressure the next day and it was normal. What the heck?
The swelling in my feet was also greatly improved due to my having elevated my
feet in my mom’s reclining/moving bed. My OBGYN, Dr. Daus, told me that he was
almost certain when I called that he was going to have to induce me, but that I
was luckily enough not to have severe enough symptoms to have to be induced.
However, he said that the results do not mean that I do not have toxemia, nor
that I am “out of the woods yet.” No more working, no more strenuous activity
(not bed rest, just taking it easy).
So this
mean I was going on maternity leave 3 weeks before my due date. I had a lot of
mixed emotions about that. Work was getting extremely difficult and in many
ways it was nice to have someone just tell me “You cannot work. You have no
choice.” That way I didn’t have to make the decision of when to stop working as
I had been debating the question of a long time. Over the course of the next
week I really just did a lot of chores, shopping for supplies for baby, some
resting, but really didn’t watch any movies/shows, nor did I start on the
scrapbooking I was banking on completing before my baby’s arrival. But no
worries, I had another 2 weeks and 2 days to go.
Thursday, my dad took pictures of
Derek and I for my “maternity pictures” (I have not posted them as you will soon
learn I have been slightly busy ever since). During the pictures I started
having extremely sharp pains that originated in my pelvis and shot down through
my legs and up into my abdomen. The previous week at the doctor I learned that
the baby was sitting low in my pelvis, so the pains didn’t really worry me. I
had been having them for a few weeks, although these were more extreme. Little
did I know how low Marquette really was in my pelvis.
The following day, November 11, I
went to Dr. Daus’ office where he checked me, listened to the baby’s heartbeat,
etc. As usual, he told me to get dress and then meet him in his office. I went
into his office and then he proceeded to tell me that I was 4cm dilated and 50%
effaced. He then likened my current status unto the movie “Top Gun” and said
that I need to put my family on the “Alert 5.” He said that if I made it to the
following Friday, he would see me then, and if I hadn’t had the baby by the
following Monday (10 days from then), that he would have me come into the
hospital and break my water. He said that the baby was -1 station as well, and
that I seemed to be moving really quickly. He explained his reasons, and I
thought they were all rationale. So, I left the office thinking “wow, I’m going
to have this baby within the next 10 days.” I called my family and let them
know, although I really didn’t think that I would be having my baby within the
next few days. I also hoped that I would not have him for at least 48 hours as
my mom was coming home from being out in Oregon visiting family the following
night.
I then went to my work to pick up a
present from a friend of mine, and let everyone know my status. Everyone
started telling me ways to get myself to induce, etc. etc. Derek and I decided
to go out to dinner that night as it would probably be our last night out
before having a child to tend to. We went to Olive Garden. Well, the wait ended
up being over an hour long and I was standing the entire time (No, nobody
offered to let the 37 weeks, 5 day pregnant lady sit down. I find that rather
sad). I really enjoyed eating dinner with Derek. We were both really excited
about the upcoming birth and Derek and I swapped stories about how everyone was
placing bets of when Marquette would be born. What I find really interesting is
that Derek had been saying since like early October that the baby would come
either November 11 or November 13th/that weekend. I had my mind set
that I would deliver late because I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Derek’s mom
thought he would be a December baby, and my parents both agreed with me that
he’d probably be a day or two late (my mom carried all of us a day or two late
and the rest of my pregnancy had been pretty similar to my mothers, although my
morning sickness was excessively worse).
After eating we went to a couple
stores in the mall to search for a suit for Marquette since family pictures are
going to be taken in December and all the men are going to wear suits. That was
a failure, and I was tired, so we decided to go home. Once we got home, we
watched TV in bed. I decided that I was tired around 9:45pm, so we went to
sleep. I remember having an eerie/anxious feeling in my gut, but I attributed
it to the fear of actually going into labor.
I woke up at 1:45am to go to the
bathroom, when I sat up in bed I felt myself pee. I jumped out of bed, ran to
the bathroom while continuing to have water trickle out. Once I got to the
bathroom, I didn’t know what to think. I thought that maybe my water had
broken, but I always thought water came rushing/gushing out and soaked the
floor. I must have sat there for at least 3 minutes wondering what I should do
next. So I walked over to the bed and whispered to Derek “uh, Honey…I’m
confused.”
Derek: What do you mean?
Gina: I don’t know. I think my water may have broken.
Derek: Ok, let’s go to the hospital.
Gina: But, I’m not sure…what if it’s a false alarm?
Derek: Gina, it doesn’t matter. It’s better to be safe than
sorry.
Then
another stream of fluid started running down my leg. But it was a trickle…nothing
huge. I was a little upset because I felt like I was still on the fence (of
course now I think I was just in shock or trying to reason that I wasn’t in
labor because I didn’t feel ready). I
finally came to my senses and let my nursing knowledge kick in. Even if my
water was just leaking, I would need to go to the hospital because my baby
would be able to be exposed to infection. It was now mandatory that the baby
come within 24 hours. *Gulp* “Ok, let’s go.” I remember I got dressed and was
very methodical on what to wear/bring (note: I had already packed a bag and had
it in the car. I think I was still in shock so I was moving slowly). Derek, of
course, was now on an adrenaline kick and he had me in the Trailblazer before I
could blink.
At 2:22
I felt my first contraction. It was small, but I knew that it was time to start
counting. By the time we reached the hospital at 2:45, my contractions were 4
minutes apart and getting pretty intense. We parked in the employee parking
(its free for me) and started walking to the Women’s Center. And of course, my
water broke. And by broke I mean gushed. Awesome. So with wet pants at 2:50am,
I walked into the Labor and Delivery unit. I tried to state as calmly as
possible that my water had broken. I failed to mention that I was having some
pretty bad contractions. They told me to have a seat and they would be with me
as soon as possible. When they called me up 10 minutes later I was gripping the
arm of the chair due to pain. When I reached the window my water broke
again…this time I’m pretty sure it trickled onto the floor. The patient access
lady looked at me “Your water just broke more didn’t it?” Yup.
I was really embarrassed about
having my water break. I remember almost crying because it was so uncomfortable
and I was out in the public where everyone could see me and assume anything
they wanted. Although if you have any brain you should make out that I’m a
pregnant woman, in a delivery room, with wet pants=water broken. But whatever,
I was still in shock/disbelief. So, they called me back to their 6th
triage room. Yes, there were 6 women ahead of me. I was brought back into the
room at about 3:15am. Practically no one entered the room until 3:30, I was
placed onto the monitor, an IV started, checked for dilation (apparently I was
a 3cm to this lady) Derek was escorted in after they asked me all the abuse
screening questions, and then the nurse left. I wasn’t thrilled with her. She
seemed pretty daft and slow. And there were 5 women ahead of me. And I was starting
to be in severe pain. However, because I am an ER nurse, I know what it is like
to have everyone in pain and screaming at you, so I was determined to wait my
turn and keep quiet. So Derek and I waited. And waited. And waited. My
contractions got worse, and worse, and worse. I tried to use my breathing
techniques, but the room was so small I couldn’t walk. I had no birthing ball,
no bar, no tub, and no way to relieve my pain. At 4:45 the nurse came back and
told me that my nurse was on her way to take my back to a room. At 5:00am, two
nurses came in the room simultaneously because I let out about the biggest
moan/muffled scream. I was trying so hard to be quiet, but my back was
breaking. The lady checked me and I was 5.5cm. The other lady was my nurse.
They asked me if I wanted pain medicine. I didn’t hesitate, yes. Another
contraction came. I started drying heaving. “Phenergan, please, I need
Phenergan so I won’t throw up.” So, Derek was holding the trashcan, I was
sitting on the side of the bed squeezing the life out of the side bar of the
bed, all while dry heaving and attempting to breathe.
Within 2 minutes my new nurse was
back and she had the medicine. I remember that they were about to stick it into
my IV and I stopped them because I wanted to make sure they weren’t pushing
Phenergan as it is very caustic to the tissues (Yes, I was being a high
maintenance nurse patient). They told me it was the Nubain. The nurse,
Stephanie was here name, told me that I should probably sit back as the
medication works fast. Derek helped me into the bed as I objected and said that
I was in so much pain, it probably wouldn’t have that big of an effect. Within
1 minute I felt completely disoriented. I hated the way the medication made me
feel. I couldn’t concentrate, I was more relaxed in between contractions, but
when they came on, I still felt the pain just as bad. And I’m pretty sure I
moaned and moved just as badly as before. In some ways, I think the pain
medication made it worse because I could not focus on my breathing or pain
management. I was completely vulnerable and helpless to every contraction. The
next thing I know they are racing me down the hall into my room. 4008. Why I
remember the room number, I dunno.
By 5:15 I was all set up on the
monitor. Dr. Daus came in “I’m here Gina. You don’t look very comfortable.” I
started explaining to him that I didn’t know if I was going to make it
naturally. He smiled, talked to me for a brief minute, explained he was going
to go sleep in the doctor’s area, and they would call when I was ready to push.
Another contraction hit. The nurse told me to breathe. I could. Derek told me
to breathe. I got annoyed and told him I was trying. Derek tried to make a few
different jokes, tried playing music, tried everything he could…he got no
response from me. Stephanie asked me if I was sure I was going to make it
naturally, I told her no. I looked up, the normal saline they had hung (you
have to get at least 1-1.5 liters before getting an epidural because your blood
pressure can plummet) was only about 500ml empty…”Shoot, I thought. I have a
long way to go.” But to my amazement, Stephanie said she was going to call the
anesthesiologist. I made no objections. I wanted out of this pain. The next
thing I know Stephanie is wonder woman, she is running like crazy, pulling out
tools, medications, I dunno. I’m being sat up, legs on a stool, Derek was
instructed to sit across from me and hold me still with our heads touching when
the anesthesiologist came in. They tell me to lean over, arch my back. I’m
trying not to move, but I’m scared. I’ve helped with many spinal taps and seen
a few epidurals placed. That needle is huge. The anesthetist cleans my back,
tells me not to move, I feel the pinch and burning from the
lidocaine/anesthetic just as a contraction hits. Oh goody. Yes, I had to sit
perfectly still as my body is racked with pain, yet I still feel the needle go
into my back. Ouch, but compared to my contractions, I was surprised I really
didn’t care about it at all. I couldn’t really focus on anything except not
moving. I’m pretty sure Derek was holding me still and whispering words of
encouragement. The next thing I know they tell me that I can lay back, the
catheter is in. It was 5:40am. I was very impressed. Epidural man and wonder
nurse to the rescue. Over the next 10
minutes the pain became less. My dad arrived right about the time that my pain
was almost completely gone. Thank goodness, I didn’t want him to see me in
pain.
I remember him coming into the
room, but I don’t remember if we had an exchange of words, or at least what was
said. I’m sure I said something. By this point I’m drugged up on Nubain,
fighting to stay coherent, and the pain is easing away. At about 6:45am, I
started shaking really badly. Derek got nervous. I told him it was probably
because I was in shock, or because of the trauma. I don’t know. I could tell
Derek was worried, he was tense the entire labor, but he did such a good job
being strong for me. I remember thinking “I wish my mom was here.” I thought
that many times throughout my labor. That was the one thing that made my day
only slightly less than perfect. I consoled myself by remembering that she
would be at the hospital that night. So I needed to be strong for her. Derek’s
parents arrived sometime right before 7:00am. I don’t remember what was said
then either. I think Derek’s mom asked me how I was doing. I don’t remember to
tell you the truth. At 07:00 my new nurse and a student came in and introduced
themselves. I was still shaking. Derek asked why and they said that I was
probably completely dilated and it was my body’s way of telling me that it was
time to push. They checked me. I was 10cm, 100% effaced, and the baby was
Station +1. OH MY! It was time to push!! Wow!!!! Wow…oh dear. I was elated and
terrified all at the same time.
They had everything ready, Dr. Daus
came into the room, the parents left (I didn’t want anyone to see me except
Derek and my mom. That may be weird, but I am a private person, I don’t like
the idea of everyone seeing me and the trauma caused to me during the labor.
Since my mom wasn’t there, that left Derek). Looking back on it, in some ways
I’m glad that Derek was the only one there. It made me have to lean on him, it
brought us closer together, and I looked to him for comfort in everything. It
was a very personal, sacred, and sweet experience. I still wish my mom could
have been there as I think I would have coped better to have her, but I try to
look on the positive side.
At 7:20 I began pushing. I remember
I asked to get some more epidural medication because I could feel the
contractions again. Not a ton, but they were getting worse. Dr. Daus asked me
if I was sure I wanted any, because I wouldn’t be able to feel the contractions
and push as effectively. I understood, agreed, and declined more medication
(this ended up being a good and bad thing).
I guess Derek had told his parents that he
knew that the baby would be here before 9am. The pushing is pretty uneventful
except a few things. When Derek saw the head after only like…15 minutes of
pushing. He got so excited. “He has hair!! He has brown hair!” I remember he
and the nurse had fun arguing whether it was brown or blond. I didn’t care. I
was now in the zone. I waited in anticipation for every contraction and I gave
each push everything I had. Derek got really excited. He seriously couldn’t
take it. Also, I think it’s very cool that my Doctor was in the room the ENTIRE
time I pushed. He never left.
What really sucked was that the
epidural wore off about 45 minutes into pushing. I could feel everything.
However, for some reason, I was able to push through the pain. I wanted my baby
out. And I wanted him out NOW. I also remember that everyone kept saying
“you’re almost done” and they laughed when I finally pointed out “you keep
saying you’re almost done. You said that like 30 minutes ago.” The last 10
minutes sucked big time. It was so hard to get him passed under my pelvic bone
and I could feel myself stretching to a point that I was just waiting to tear
in half. I don’t know exactly when I tore, but I did. 2nd degree, so
not too bad. I remember begging the doctor “please, it hurts. Dr. Daus, get him
out. Please, help me!! Can’t you do something?” Yeah, my last 5 minutes were
pathetic. I was so tired. But my nurse kept me in the zone. “Gina. If you push
REALLY hard the baby will come out and you will be done.” “Come on Gina, push
the baby out and it will all go away.” She really did a good job keeping me
focused. When the head finally made it far enough Dr. Daus like sprung into
action. I felt the baby twist, a pull as his body come out, Dr. Daus ask if I
wanted him on my lap, and BOOM. There he was. My perfect angel. His eyes were
WIDE open. He looked straight up and around as the cord was clamped and Derek
cut it. Then they took him and started doing the assessment. He let out a
little peep, but not really any crying. I got scared “Is he ok?!!!!” “Yes, he
is just fine. He’s nice and healthy.” I guess he just didn’t want to cry. He
was content. I am now learning that this is part of his personality. He doesn’t
cry, hardly at all. (he also was a little doped up on the meds I was on too,
I’m sure). He got an 8 and then a 9 on his Apgar score. Derek was smiling from
ear to ear. He told me I did a beautiful job, gave me some kisses, and a hug.
He stayed there with me for a minute and held my hand. I remember feeling a
huge sense of love for my husband. He is my everything. I’m so grateful that we
get to be together forever. Dr. Daus started sewing me up and the pediatric
nurses started assessing Marquette for all the general baby stuff.
When it was time to give him his
little bath, I asked if Derek could help, I thought he would like that. So
Derek went over. I guess he did some of it, but let the nurse do most because
he was afraid of hurting Marquette. I think that is so sweet. Derek has gained
a lot more confidence over the past few days. I love to watch him care for and
give kisses to Marquette. It’s so tender and sweet. Then they gave him back to
me to breastfeed…didn’t really work out though, he was too tired. But he went
to sleep on my chest. Derek wanted to take him out and show the parents while
Dr. Daus finished sewing me up, but that was against hospital rules. We were
only allowed to transport our baby out of the room in the little bassinet. I’m
guessing something bad has happened before. So, I got to do skin to skin with
Marquette and then hold him the entire way upstairs. As I held him I started
crying. He was so perfect. I couldn’t believe it. The parents came into the
room and everyone looked at him. I remember my dad’s eyes were all red with
tears. It was a very precious moment.
We had to stay in the room for an
hour so that I could “recover”. I ate breakfast there while Derek and the
parents went to eat breakfast. I don’t
remember much about it. I do remember that the stupid blood pressure cuff was
going off every 5 minutes to make sure I was “stable.” That got annoying. But
really, I was on cloud 9. When they transported me upstairs my legs were so
numb I couldn’t move or lift them. Derek and the transporter ended up having to
lift me into the wheelchair and lift me into my bed. Once we got upstairs
Derek’s mom held Marquette, then the nurse came in the room, did an assessment
on me and the baby, and then my dad held Marquette. It was really sweet for me
to watch my dad hold him. He kept making all these little noises at Marquette
and was very teary. I remember when I told my dad I was pregnant I was nervous
about his reaction. But the love in my father’s eyes I will never forget.
Derek’s dad did not hold Marquette because he had a cold and didn’t want to get
him sick. They all stayed for a little while, took some pictures, the
pediatrician came in, said Marquette looked perfect, and then everyone left
because the lactation specialist came to help me learn how to breastfeed. We
struggled with that at first. Marquette wouldn’t latch. I guess he was too
tired from the trauma of the labor. So we just hand expressed and gave him a
little. I put Marquette on my chest and we took a nap together skin to skin. It
was the most amazing feeling ever. I will never forget that moment. Later that
day Joel and Laurel and my dad came to visit. Laurel was so excited to hold
Marquette she could barely contain herself. She kept asking if she could hold
him the next day too. Which I found very sweet and loving. Derek ended up
holding and watching Marquette from about 7p-midnight. My mom came to visit at 12:45am after her
flight landed. I was so excited to see her. I immediately gave her the baby and
she held him for about 30 minutes. It was so nice to have her there. I kind of
felt like I could relax now because my mommy was going to be there to help me
out. However, she was very tired, so they left fairly quickly. Not to mention
the fact that visiting hours end at 8:30pm and I talked the staff into letting
her come at 1:00am. But I was not going to take no for an answer. Well, I’m
sure my dad and mother would not have either. Haha.
In the morning Dr. Daus came to see
me and told me that I could go home. I was a little surprised as he told me
after I had delivered that I would not be able to go home until Monday morning.
I asked him a few questions and he actually ended up staying and just chatting
with us about everything non-medical related for probably 30 minutes. I told
him and the nurse that I wanted to stay until that afternoon or evening so that
I could meet with the lactation consultant again and we could get everything
else that we needed to get done completed. So in the process of the next
probably…3-4 hours Marquette got circumcised, passed his hearing test, had a
newborn screening, and was assessed by the pediatrician. The pediatrician told
me that he could go home as long as his bilirubin count was low enough and all
his tests were ok. That was comforting as I certainly was NOT about to leave
without my baby.
My family showed up around 1:30 to
visit. Mom held him first, then Laurel, then Joel while dad took pictures.
Derek’s parents came after and Derek’s dad got to hold Marquette for the first
time. Everyone stayed until about 3:15 and then they headed home. I really
don’t remember any of the conversations except we all just pretty much gawked
and “ooo’d” and “awwwww’d” at how beautiful my sweet baby is.
Derek and I were finally discharged
at about 5:30pm. Marquette passed his test, but his bilirubin was 7.7, so he
had to follow up with his pediatrician in 24 hours. He weighed 6 lbs, 0.3 oz
when he was discharged. He had dropped 6 ounces. YIKES!! I promised that I would call the following morning. Taking
Marquette home was surreal. Derek mentioned that he was really sad about
leaving the hospital. I think you go on such a high and it’s such an exciting
time that it is somewhat sad to leave. It was kind of like we had played
pretend at the hospital, but it really hit when we put him into his car seat. On
the entire ride home I was extremely anxious about every turn we made. I think
I told Derek to slow down, watch out for a car, etc. every 5 minutes. But of
course, he was very patient with me. Derek has been very patient with me,
despite our sleep deprivation this entire time. He is always asking me if I
need something, how I am doing, and offering to do things for Marquette so I
won’t have to. I am truly blessed to have him.
Monday morning my mom came over.
She has been over the entire week. It has been so nice to be able to spend time
with her and have her here to help me. She has done all the laundry, some
cooking (friends from church have been bringing meals over too), all the
cleaning, changed diapers, burped Marquette numerous times for me since I’m
still not the best at it, and helped me learn better how to breastfeed. My mom
really helped me actually when it came to breastfeeding. I think I may have
quit without her. It is one of the most rewarding and frustrating things at the
same time. At first I wanted to cry with frustration because he didn’t seem to
latch properly, wasn’t getting enough milk, etc. and I was very nervous that I
would not be good enough or provide enough milk for him. And since he’s so
small, he really cannot afford to lose more weight. However, now that we have
got the hang of things, it is one of the most beautiful, personal and bonding
experiences ever. It may be selfish, but it’s so nice to have a connection with
a child that no one else can have or understand like I can. Truly the love of a
mother is one of a kind and stronger than any other on this earth…except
marriage/our Savior’s love of course. Whenever I look at that little boy it
makes me melt. I love how he can be upset or fussy in someone’s arms or when
lying down and I can pick him up and just my touch and the sound of my voice
soothes him immediately. It’s priceless to me. I wish it would never change.
Monday we did go to the
pediatrician. She seemed very unconcerned about his slight jaundice, probably
less than I would have liked…although I am very protective. He weight 5 lbs, 15
ounces at the doctor and was 20.75 inches with a head circumference of 13
inches. He was 85-95% length, 15-25% head circumference, and 10% body weight. I
was very nervous about his weight, but they told me not to worry about it. I
have since lost my fear as he has been eating like a champion and my milk
supply is pretty impressive now (TMI, I’m sure).
Marquette got his first bath on
Tuesday, second on Wednesday because he peed through his diaper and it went up
his back and into his hair. My mom, Derek, and I have had some really awesome
bonding experiences, lots and lots of laughs, a few tears (pretty much only
mine), and great memories made. Derek’s family and the rest of mine have also
come over at different times at night which has been nice to see them. I have
to admit I have not seen them every time as I have gone to bed around 7-8pm two
different nights this week from exhaustion.
The Birth Story of Marquette Hiatt Shumway
Where
do I begin? I guess we can start back two weeks ago. On Wednesday the 3rd
of November, I came home from having worked 2 shifts in a row. When I took my
shoes and changed clothes and sat with Derek, I noticed that my feet were
swollen beyond compare. Not only were my feet swollen, but my calves were as
well. When I put my finger into where my ankle was supposed to be located, I
noted +3 pitting edema. It was really bad. At first I thought nothing of it.
But then I started to recall the signs of PIH/Preeclampsia/Toxemia (headache,
high blood pressure, protein in urine, etc.) I remember that for almost the
entire day I had suffered from a headache, but I had brushed it off as having
no sleep since I literally was at the point of getting up and peeing almost
every hour at night. So I decided that I would simply check my blood pressure
in the morning when I went to work. No big deal.
The
next morning when I went to work my charge nurse asked me if I wanted to be a
float nurse or go to triage. I told him that I would prefer to go to triage as
my ankles were very swollen. I proceeded
to show my charge nurse, clinical educator, and another nurse my feet to which
they all noted that the swelling was severe. I told them that I wanted to check
my blood pressure. The first reading
173/85, second reading 141/101, third reading at another time 163/95. My
baseline blood pressure is 110/65. This was the point that I began to freak
out. My charge nurse and the rest of the staff told me that I needed to call my
doctor. I did. And yes, he told me to go to the Labor and Delivery at the
hospital. Shoot. To make a long story short, the nurse was amazed at how
swollen my feet were, I had blood drawn, and IV, an ultrasound, etc. and 2
hours later I was that my blood levels were normal enough and my blood pressure
had lowered enough (it had slowly come down while I was there) that I could go
home. THANK GOODNESS. But I was to go on immediate Maternity Leave and report
to my OBGYN the next day at 9am. Awesome….
My
OBGYN checked my blood pressure the next day and it was normal. What the heck?
The swelling in my feet was also greatly improved due to my having elevated my
feet in my mom’s reclining/moving bed. My OBGYN, Dr. Daus, told me that he was
almost certain when I called that he was going to have to induce me, but that I
was luckily enough not to have severe enough symptoms to have to be induced.
However, he said that the results do not mean that I do not have toxemia, nor
that I am “out of the woods yet.” No more working, no more strenuous activity
(not bed rest, just taking it easy).
So this
mean I was going on maternity leave 3 weeks before my due date. I had a lot of
mixed emotions about that. Work was getting extremely difficult and in many
ways it was nice to have someone just tell me “You cannot work. You have no
choice.” That way I didn’t have to make the decision of when to stop working as
I had been debating the question of a long time. Over the course of the next
week I really just did a lot of chores, shopping for supplies for baby, some
resting, but really didn’t watch any movies/shows, nor did I start on the
scrapbooking I was banking on completing before my baby’s arrival. But no
worries, I had another 2 weeks and 2 days to go.
Thursday, my dad took pictures of
Derek and I for my “maternity pictures” (I have not posted them as you will soon
learn I have been slightly busy ever since). During the pictures I started
having extremely sharp pains that originated in my pelvis and shot down through
my legs and up into my abdomen. The previous week at the doctor I learned that
the baby was sitting low in my pelvis, so the pains didn’t really worry me. I
had been having them for a few weeks, although these were more extreme. Little
did I know how low Marquette really was in my pelvis.
The following day, November 11, I
went to Dr. Daus’ office where he checked me, listened to the baby’s heartbeat,
etc. As usual, he told me to get dress and then meet him in his office. I went
into his office and then he proceeded to tell me that I was 4cm dilated and 50%
effaced. He then likened my current status unto the movie “Top Gun” and said
that I need to put my family on the “Alert 5.” He said that if I made it to the
following Friday, he would see me then, and if I hadn’t had the baby by the
following Monday (10 days from then), that he would have me come into the
hospital and break my water. He said that the baby was -1 station as well, and
that I seemed to be moving really quickly. He explained his reasons, and I
thought they were all rationale. So, I left the office thinking “wow, I’m going
to have this baby within the next 10 days.” I called my family and let them
know, although I really didn’t think that I would be having my baby within the
next few days. I also hoped that I would not have him for at least 48 hours as
my mom was coming home from being out in Oregon visiting family the following
night.
I then went to my work to pick up a
present from a friend of mine, and let everyone know my status. Everyone
started telling me ways to get myself to induce, etc. etc. Derek and I decided
to go out to dinner that night as it would probably be our last night out
before having a child to tend to. We went to Olive Garden. Well, the wait ended
up being over an hour long and I was standing the entire time (No, nobody
offered to let the 37 weeks, 5 day pregnant lady sit down. I find that rather
sad). I really enjoyed eating dinner with Derek. We were both really excited
about the upcoming birth and Derek and I swapped stories about how everyone was
placing bets of when Marquette would be born. What I find really interesting is
that Derek had been saying since like early October that the baby would come
either November 11 or November 13th/that weekend. I had my mind set
that I would deliver late because I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Derek’s mom
thought he would be a December baby, and my parents both agreed with me that
he’d probably be a day or two late (my mom carried all of us a day or two late
and the rest of my pregnancy had been pretty similar to my mothers, although my
morning sickness was excessively worse).
After eating we went to a couple
stores in the mall to search for a suit for Marquette since family pictures are
going to be taken in December and all the men are going to wear suits. That was
a failure, and I was tired, so we decided to go home. Once we got home, we
watched TV in bed. I decided that I was tired around 9:45pm, so we went to
sleep. I remember having an eerie/anxious feeling in my gut, but I attributed
it to the fear of actually going into labor.
I woke up at 1:45am to go to the
bathroom, when I sat up in bed I felt myself pee. I jumped out of bed, ran to
the bathroom while continuing to have water trickle out. Once I got to the
bathroom, I didn’t know what to think. I thought that maybe my water had
broken, but I always thought water came rushing/gushing out and soaked the
floor. I must have sat there for at least 3 minutes wondering what I should do
next. So I walked over to the bed and whispered to Derek “uh, Honey…I’m
confused.”
Derek: What do you mean?
Gina: I don’t know. I think my water may have broken.
Derek: Ok, let’s go to the hospital.
Gina: But, I’m not sure…what if it’s a false alarm?
Derek: Gina, it doesn’t matter. It’s better to be safe than
sorry.
Then
another stream of fluid started running down my leg. But it was a trickle…nothing
huge. I was a little upset because I felt like I was still on the fence (of
course now I think I was just in shock or trying to reason that I wasn’t in
labor because I didn’t feel ready). I
finally came to my senses and let my nursing knowledge kick in. Even if my
water was just leaking, I would need to go to the hospital because my baby
would be able to be exposed to infection. It was now mandatory that the baby
come within 24 hours. *Gulp* “Ok, let’s go.” I remember I got dressed and was
very methodical on what to wear/bring (note: I had already packed a bag and had
it in the car. I think I was still in shock so I was moving slowly). Derek, of
course, was now on an adrenaline kick and he had me in the Trailblazer before I
could blink.
At 2:22
I felt my first contraction. It was small, but I knew that it was time to start
counting. By the time we reached the hospital at 2:45, my contractions were 4
minutes apart and getting pretty intense. We parked in the employee parking
(its free for me) and started walking to the Women’s Center. And of course, my
water broke. And by broke I mean gushed. Awesome. So with wet pants at 2:50am,
I walked into the Labor and Delivery unit. I tried to state as calmly as
possible that my water had broken. I failed to mention that I was having some
pretty bad contractions. They told me to have a seat and they would be with me
as soon as possible. When they called me up 10 minutes later I was gripping the
arm of the chair due to pain. When I reached the window my water broke
again…this time I’m pretty sure it trickled onto the floor. The patient access
lady looked at me “Your water just broke more didn’t it?” Yup.
I was really embarrassed about
having my water break. I remember almost crying because it was so uncomfortable
and I was out in the public where everyone could see me and assume anything
they wanted. Although if you have any brain you should make out that I’m a
pregnant woman, in a delivery room, with wet pants=water broken. But whatever,
I was still in shock/disbelief. So, they called me back to their 6th
triage room. Yes, there were 6 women ahead of me. I was brought back into the
room at about 3:15am. Practically no one entered the room until 3:30, I was
placed onto the monitor, an IV started, checked for dilation (apparently I was
a 3cm to this lady) Derek was escorted in after they asked me all the abuse
screening questions, and then the nurse left. I wasn’t thrilled with her. She
seemed pretty daft and slow. And there were 5 women ahead of me. And I was starting
to be in severe pain. However, because I am an ER nurse, I know what it is like
to have everyone in pain and screaming at you, so I was determined to wait my
turn and keep quiet. So Derek and I waited. And waited. And waited. My
contractions got worse, and worse, and worse. I tried to use my breathing
techniques, but the room was so small I couldn’t walk. I had no birthing ball,
no bar, no tub, and no way to relieve my pain. At 4:45 the nurse came back and
told me that my nurse was on her way to take my back to a room. At 5:00am, two
nurses came in the room simultaneously because I let out about the biggest
moan/muffled scream. I was trying so hard to be quiet, but my back was
breaking. The lady checked me and I was 5.5cm. The other lady was my nurse.
They asked me if I wanted pain medicine. I didn’t hesitate, yes. Another
contraction came. I started drying heaving. “Phenergan, please, I need
Phenergan so I won’t throw up.” So, Derek was holding the trashcan, I was
sitting on the side of the bed squeezing the life out of the side bar of the
bed, all while dry heaving and attempting to breathe.
Within 2 minutes my new nurse was
back and she had the medicine. I remember that they were about to stick it into
my IV and I stopped them because I wanted to make sure they weren’t pushing
Phenergan as it is very caustic to the tissues (Yes, I was being a high
maintenance nurse patient). They told me it was the Nubain. The nurse,
Stephanie was here name, told me that I should probably sit back as the
medication works fast. Derek helped me into the bed as I objected and said that
I was in so much pain, it probably wouldn’t have that big of an effect. Within
1 minute I felt completely disoriented. I hated the way the medication made me
feel. I couldn’t concentrate, I was more relaxed in between contractions, but
when they came on, I still felt the pain just as bad. And I’m pretty sure I
moaned and moved just as badly as before. In some ways, I think the pain
medication made it worse because I could not focus on my breathing or pain
management. I was completely vulnerable and helpless to every contraction. The
next thing I know they are racing me down the hall into my room. 4008. Why I
remember the room number, I dunno.
By 5:15 I was all set up on the
monitor. Dr. Daus came in “I’m here Gina. You don’t look very comfortable.” I
started explaining to him that I didn’t know if I was going to make it
naturally. He smiled, talked to me for a brief minute, explained he was going
to go sleep in the doctor’s area, and they would call when I was ready to push.
Another contraction hit. The nurse told me to breathe. I could. Derek told me
to breathe. I got annoyed and told him I was trying. Derek tried to make a few
different jokes, tried playing music, tried everything he could…he got no
response from me. Stephanie asked me if I was sure I was going to make it
naturally, I told her no. I looked up, the normal saline they had hung (you
have to get at least 1-1.5 liters before getting an epidural because your blood
pressure can plummet) was only about 500ml empty…”Shoot, I thought. I have a
long way to go.” But to my amazement, Stephanie said she was going to call the
anesthesiologist. I made no objections. I wanted out of this pain. The next
thing I know Stephanie is wonder woman, she is running like crazy, pulling out
tools, medications, I dunno. I’m being sat up, legs on a stool, Derek was
instructed to sit across from me and hold me still with our heads touching when
the anesthesiologist came in. They tell me to lean over, arch my back. I’m
trying not to move, but I’m scared. I’ve helped with many spinal taps and seen
a few epidurals placed. That needle is huge. The anesthetist cleans my back,
tells me not to move, I feel the pinch and burning from the
lidocaine/anesthetic just as a contraction hits. Oh goody. Yes, I had to sit
perfectly still as my body is racked with pain, yet I still feel the needle go
into my back. Ouch, but compared to my contractions, I was surprised I really
didn’t care about it at all. I couldn’t really focus on anything except not
moving. I’m pretty sure Derek was holding me still and whispering words of
encouragement. The next thing I know they tell me that I can lay back, the
catheter is in. It was 5:40am. I was very impressed. Epidural man and wonder
nurse to the rescue. Over the next 10
minutes the pain became less. My dad arrived right about the time that my pain
was almost completely gone. Thank goodness, I didn’t want him to see me in
pain.
I remember him coming into the
room, but I don’t remember if we had an exchange of words, or at least what was
said. I’m sure I said something. By this point I’m drugged up on Nubain,
fighting to stay coherent, and the pain is easing away. At about 6:45am, I
started shaking really badly. Derek got nervous. I told him it was probably
because I was in shock, or because of the trauma. I don’t know. I could tell
Derek was worried, he was tense the entire labor, but he did such a good job
being strong for me. I remember thinking “I wish my mom was here.” I thought
that many times throughout my labor. That was the one thing that made my day
only slightly less than perfect. I consoled myself by remembering that she
would be at the hospital that night. So I needed to be strong for her. Derek’s
parents arrived sometime right before 7:00am. I don’t remember what was said
then either. I think Derek’s mom asked me how I was doing. I don’t remember to
tell you the truth. At 07:00 my new nurse and a student came in and introduced
themselves. I was still shaking. Derek asked why and they said that I was
probably completely dilated and it was my body’s way of telling me that it was
time to push. They checked me. I was 10cm, 100% effaced, and the baby was
Station +1. OH MY! It was time to push!! Wow!!!! Wow…oh dear. I was elated and
terrified all at the same time.
They had everything ready, Dr. Daus
came into the room, the parents left (I didn’t want anyone to see me except
Derek and my mom. That may be weird, but I am a private person, I don’t like
the idea of everyone seeing me and the trauma caused to me during the labor.
Since my mom wasn’t there, that left Derek). Looking back on it, in some ways
I’m glad that Derek was the only one there. It made me have to lean on him, it
brought us closer together, and I looked to him for comfort in everything. It
was a very personal, sacred, and sweet experience. I still wish my mom could
have been there as I think I would have coped better to have her, but I try to
look on the positive side.
At 7:20 I began pushing. I remember
I asked to get some more epidural medication because I could feel the
contractions again. Not a ton, but they were getting worse. Dr. Daus asked me
if I was sure I wanted any, because I wouldn’t be able to feel the contractions
and push as effectively. I understood, agreed, and declined more medication
(this ended up being a good and bad thing).
I guess Derek had told his parents that he
knew that the baby would be here before 9am. The pushing is pretty uneventful
except a few things. When Derek saw the head after only like…15 minutes of
pushing. He got so excited. “He has hair!! He has brown hair!” I remember he
and the nurse had fun arguing whether it was brown or blond. I didn’t care. I
was now in the zone. I waited in anticipation for every contraction and I gave
each push everything I had. Derek got really excited. He seriously couldn’t
take it. Also, I think it’s very cool that my Doctor was in the room the ENTIRE
time I pushed. He never left.
What really sucked was that the
epidural wore off about 45 minutes into pushing. I could feel everything.
However, for some reason, I was able to push through the pain. I wanted my baby
out. And I wanted him out NOW. I also remember that everyone kept saying
“you’re almost done” and they laughed when I finally pointed out “you keep
saying you’re almost done. You said that like 30 minutes ago.” The last 10
minutes sucked big time. It was so hard to get him passed under my pelvic bone
and I could feel myself stretching to a point that I was just waiting to tear
in half. I don’t know exactly when I tore, but I did. 2nd degree, so
not too bad. I remember begging the doctor “please, it hurts. Dr. Daus, get him
out. Please, help me!! Can’t you do something?” Yeah, my last 5 minutes were
pathetic. I was so tired. But my nurse kept me in the zone. “Gina. If you push
REALLY hard the baby will come out and you will be done.” “Come on Gina, push
the baby out and it will all go away.” She really did a good job keeping me
focused. When the head finally made it far enough Dr. Daus like sprung into
action. I felt the baby twist, a pull as his body come out, Dr. Daus ask if I
wanted him on my lap, and BOOM. There he was. My perfect angel. His eyes were
WIDE open. He looked straight up and around as the cord was clamped and Derek
cut it. Then they took him and started doing the assessment. He let out a
little peep, but not really any crying. I got scared “Is he ok?!!!!” “Yes, he
is just fine. He’s nice and healthy.” I guess he just didn’t want to cry. He
was content. I am now learning that this is part of his personality. He doesn’t
cry, hardly at all. (he also was a little doped up on the meds I was on too,
I’m sure). He got an 8 and then a 9 on his Apgar score. Derek was smiling from
ear to ear. He told me I did a beautiful job, gave me some kisses, and a hug.
He stayed there with me for a minute and held my hand. I remember feeling a
huge sense of love for my husband. He is my everything. I’m so grateful that we
get to be together forever. Dr. Daus started sewing me up and the pediatric
nurses started assessing Marquette for all the general baby stuff.
When it was time to give him his
little bath, I asked if Derek could help, I thought he would like that. So
Derek went over. I guess he did some of it, but let the nurse do most because
he was afraid of hurting Marquette. I think that is so sweet. Derek has gained
a lot more confidence over the past few days. I love to watch him care for and
give kisses to Marquette. It’s so tender and sweet. Then they gave him back to
me to breastfeed…didn’t really work out though, he was too tired. But he went
to sleep on my chest. Derek wanted to take him out and show the parents while
Dr. Daus finished sewing me up, but that was against hospital rules. We were
only allowed to transport our baby out of the room in the little bassinet. I’m
guessing something bad has happened before. So, I got to do skin to skin with
Marquette and then hold him the entire way upstairs. As I held him I started
crying. He was so perfect. I couldn’t believe it. The parents came into the
room and everyone looked at him. I remember my dad’s eyes were all red with
tears. It was a very precious moment.
We had to stay in the room for an
hour so that I could “recover”. I ate breakfast there while Derek and the
parents went to eat breakfast. I don’t
remember much about it. I do remember that the stupid blood pressure cuff was
going off every 5 minutes to make sure I was “stable.” That got annoying. But
really, I was on cloud 9. When they transported me upstairs my legs were so
numb I couldn’t move or lift them. Derek and the transporter ended up having to
lift me into the wheelchair and lift me into my bed. Once we got upstairs
Derek’s mom held Marquette, then the nurse came in the room, did an assessment
on me and the baby, and then my dad held Marquette. It was really sweet for me
to watch my dad hold him. He kept making all these little noises at Marquette
and was very teary. I remember when I told my dad I was pregnant I was nervous
about his reaction. But the love in my father’s eyes I will never forget.
Derek’s dad did not hold Marquette because he had a cold and didn’t want to get
him sick. They all stayed for a little while, took some pictures, the
pediatrician came in, said Marquette looked perfect, and then everyone left
because the lactation specialist came to help me learn how to breastfeed. We
struggled with that at first. Marquette wouldn’t latch. I guess he was too
tired from the trauma of the labor. So we just hand expressed and gave him a
little. I put Marquette on my chest and we took a nap together skin to skin. It
was the most amazing feeling ever. I will never forget that moment. Later that
day Joel and Laurel and my dad came to visit. Laurel was so excited to hold
Marquette she could barely contain herself. She kept asking if she could hold
him the next day too. Which I found very sweet and loving. Derek ended up
holding and watching Marquette from about 7p-midnight. My mom came to visit at 12:45am after her
flight landed. I was so excited to see her. I immediately gave her the baby and
she held him for about 30 minutes. It was so nice to have her there. I kind of
felt like I could relax now because my mommy was going to be there to help me
out. However, she was very tired, so they left fairly quickly. Not to mention
the fact that visiting hours end at 8:30pm and I talked the staff into letting
her come at 1:00am. But I was not going to take no for an answer. Well, I’m
sure my dad and mother would not have either. Haha.
In the morning Dr. Daus came to see
me and told me that I could go home. I was a little surprised as he told me
after I had delivered that I would not be able to go home until Monday morning.
I asked him a few questions and he actually ended up staying and just chatting
with us about everything non-medical related for probably 30 minutes. I told
him and the nurse that I wanted to stay until that afternoon or evening so that
I could meet with the lactation consultant again and we could get everything
else that we needed to get done completed. So in the process of the next
probably…3-4 hours Marquette got circumcised, passed his hearing test, had a
newborn screening, and was assessed by the pediatrician. The pediatrician told
me that he could go home as long as his bilirubin count was low enough and all
his tests were ok. That was comforting as I certainly was NOT about to leave
without my baby.
My family showed up around 1:30 to
visit. Mom held him first, then Laurel, then Joel while dad took pictures.
Derek’s parents came after and Derek’s dad got to hold Marquette for the first
time. Everyone stayed until about 3:15 and then they headed home. I really
don’t remember any of the conversations except we all just pretty much gawked
and “ooo’d” and “awwwww’d” at how beautiful my sweet baby is.
Derek and I were finally discharged
at about 5:30pm. Marquette passed his test, but his bilirubin was 7.7, so he
had to follow up with his pediatrician in 24 hours. He weighed 6 lbs, 0.3 oz
when he was discharged. He had dropped 6 ounces. YIKES!! I promised that I would call the following morning. Taking
Marquette home was surreal. Derek mentioned that he was really sad about
leaving the hospital. I think you go on such a high and it’s such an exciting
time that it is somewhat sad to leave. It was kind of like we had played
pretend at the hospital, but it really hit when we put him into his car seat. On
the entire ride home I was extremely anxious about every turn we made. I think
I told Derek to slow down, watch out for a car, etc. every 5 minutes. But of
course, he was very patient with me. Derek has been very patient with me,
despite our sleep deprivation this entire time. He is always asking me if I
need something, how I am doing, and offering to do things for Marquette so I
won’t have to. I am truly blessed to have him.
Monday morning my mom came over.
She has been over the entire week. It has been so nice to be able to spend time
with her and have her here to help me. She has done all the laundry, some
cooking (friends from church have been bringing meals over too), all the
cleaning, changed diapers, burped Marquette numerous times for me since I’m
still not the best at it, and helped me learn better how to breastfeed. My mom
really helped me actually when it came to breastfeeding. I think I may have
quit without her. It is one of the most rewarding and frustrating things at the
same time. At first I wanted to cry with frustration because he didn’t seem to
latch properly, wasn’t getting enough milk, etc. and I was very nervous that I
would not be good enough or provide enough milk for him. And since he’s so
small, he really cannot afford to lose more weight. However, now that we have
got the hang of things, it is one of the most beautiful, personal and bonding
experiences ever. It may be selfish, but it’s so nice to have a connection with
a child that no one else can have or understand like I can. Truly the love of a
mother is one of a kind and stronger than any other on this earth…except
marriage/our Savior’s love of course. Whenever I look at that little boy it
makes me melt. I love how he can be upset or fussy in someone’s arms or when
lying down and I can pick him up and just my touch and the sound of my voice
soothes him immediately. It’s priceless to me. I wish it would never change.
Monday we did go to the
pediatrician. She seemed very unconcerned about his slight jaundice, probably
less than I would have liked…although I am very protective. He weight 5 lbs, 15
ounces at the doctor and was 20.75 inches with a head circumference of 13
inches. He was 85-95% length, 15-25% head circumference, and 10% body weight. I
was very nervous about his weight, but they told me not to worry about it. I
have since lost my fear as he has been eating like a champion and my milk
supply is pretty impressive now (TMI, I’m sure).
Marquette got his first bath on
Tuesday, second on Wednesday because he peed through his diaper and it went up
his back and into his hair. My mom, Derek, and I have had some really awesome
bonding experiences, lots and lots of laughs, a few tears (pretty much only
mine), and great memories made. Derek’s family and the rest of mine have also
come over at different times at night which has been nice to see them. I have
to admit I have not seen them every time as I have gone to bed around 7-8pm two
different nights this week from exhaustion.
2 comments:
Loved your birth story! Congrats! <3
It makes me remember why I don't want to go through labor again although the reward is worth it and makes me want another. Congratulations! :) He's so cute and small. Ava was 8 lbs 2 oz so he looks so tiny.
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