Baby Kate's birth story (part 1)
If you're squeamish, or don't like to read or hear birth stories (something which I cannot relate to but I guess it takes all kinds), I would highly recommend skipping this post series. I'm about to use pretty technical terms and get into the nitty gritty, because I am a lover of birth stories and don't wanna spare anyone the major details. So...click away if ye must. But don't say I didn't warn you.
Here goes the epic, multi-part saga of Baby Kate's birth. Grab a snack, get in a comfy chair, and settle in for the long haul because this is gonna take awhile.
First, let's look at the beauty that caused (and resulted from) all this schtuff.
Okay, now that we can all visualized that cuteness, leggoooooo.
At my 40 week doctor's appointment (May 23), we had the induction talk with our doctor. It looked like Kate wasn't going to budge without some sort of assistance, and because of a very long and complicated situation with our insurance (which I'm convinced is the devil's occupation), we wanted to make sure and have Baby G before June hit.
Our doc was perfectly fine with inducing the next Wednesday if nothing had happened naturally by then, so we made an appointment at the hospital for May 28th at 7:30. It was sort of surreal making that appointment, because we then had this definite time frame of for-sure-we-will-have-a-baby-by-this-date in our heads.
Up until that point, even though we had reached and passed the 40 week mark, the baby's arrival still felt like it wasn't actually ever going to happen. I could definitely still understand that there was a large baby inside me (gettin' larger every gosh-darn moment) but it still didn't seem like that baby would ever be out here in the world. Not sure if that's a first-time mom thing, or happens every pregnancy, but it was definitely surreal.
Of course, nothing happened between that doctor's appointment and our appointment at the hospital. I spent every night between that Friday and Tuesday wishing, praying, taking my EPO (evening primrose oil), drinking raspberry leaf tea, and walking miles and miles and MILES, it seemed like, in order to get somethin' going down there.
It was a little frustrating, to say the least. I think I had LESS Braxton-Hicks contractions during those 5 days than I had all the weeks leading up to my due date. I was exhausted from all my walking, and from having literally nothing else to think about except for the baby and wanting it to just freaking get here already!
So.
Nothing happened, so when we hit Wednesday night, it was go time.
Having an appointment to be induced was basically the opposite of all the scenes in the movies they show of people running around with their heads cut off to get to the hospital. We went to the vigil Mass for the Assumption at our parish (the feast day was the next day), stopped and got some Chipotle for a "one-last-meal" feel, went home and ate, and then leisurely packed our bags and drove to the hospital.
We kept saying to each other, "Can you believe we're going to have this baby now?" It was crazy.
Walking in the halls to the baby ward was hilarious - pretty much every person in any sort of scrubs gave me a double or triple take, because I was obviously huge and carrying our stuff, but didn't seem to be in any sort of labor. Yep, a little disappointing. But it was way too much work to try and explain that to every person we passed, so I just let it slide.
We checked in all casually, and went to our labor room...which we envisioned would be our home for only 24 or so hours. Ohhhhh how wrong we were!
Now to the nitty gritty.
I got hooked up to the contraction monitor and the baby heartbeat monitor, and laid there for awhile all still so they could see Baby G. I was having painless contractions, according to the monitors, and baby was looking great, so they began the induction process.
A quick disclaimer: if you're getting induced, please know that what happened to me rarely every happens...the nurses and my doc were all pretty surprised about it. It wasn't horrible, either, but just wanna put that out there.
They started my induction by putting in a dose of Cytotec (or however you spell it...my blogging time is limited so I'm not gonna look up how to spell it) and let me chill for awhile. David and I whiled away the time by playing Go Fish, watching Harry Potter and HGTV, and narrowing down our list of names.
We had spent basically the entire pregnancy convinced that Kate was a boy. Every single one of our friends who have kids have girls, and we both just KNEW she had to be a boy. Even our nurses and doctor all thought boy from the way I was carrying. So when I say we spent time discussing names, I mean we talked about our boy name options, and basically just forgot about the possibility of it being a girl.
So we whiled (wiled? whilled? how the biff do you spell that word?) away the hours amusing ourselves for awhile as the Cytotec got to work. The plan was to wait and see how it did, maybe put another dose of the same in if it wasn't working, and then in the morning switch to Pitocin to get some contractions going.
Let me tell you, it's probably a good thing that we don't have cable, because we would just watch HGTV 24/7 like the boring old married couple that we are. We got majorly spoiled during our trip - so much so that I thought about going to visit my parents just to watch another episode of Love It or List It. It was bad.
I think we both finally went to sleep around 11 p.m., maybe a bit later. I was still having contractions, and feeling them a teensy bit more than before, but they weren't painful at all. I had a few vag exams at this point, but they didn't want to disturb the drug up there so not a ton. When I was checked when we came in, I had made zero progress from my doctor's appointment the week previous, and one of the checks in the middle of the night was the same - 1 cm, with maybe a tiny wiggle past that. Technical term, y'all.
I slept for maybe 4 hours, getting woken up every two hours or so for a nurse to come in and check something, and David slept for a little bit longer, maybe 5 hours, on the oh-so-glamorous couch that really isn't made for a long-haul stay.
When it was time to maybe put another dose of Cytotec in, they came in and looked, and my contractions were too close together to put another dose in (something about the drug makes it so you can't put in another dose if they're too close together...idk). So at around 5:00 in the morning they started me on Pitocin, with all the IV and fluids that go with that.
Once again, my contractions picked up a little bit, but nothing was super painful or distracting. I could still talk through my contractions, and they weren't doing squat. Every time a nurse came in to check me, she had this hopeful expression but then had the same thing to respond...still 1 cm, no progress.
Talk about disappointment. After hearing horror stories of women who just detest Pitocin contractions, here I was sitting pretty with contractions close together that weren't painful and that weren't doing anything!
David and I watched more HGTV and the Weather Channel (like I said...boring old married couple). He kept suggesting we watching something a little more entertaining, but I was expecting any moment to go into real labor and I didn't want to have to deal with putting his laptop away, so I kept shutting that idea down.
Hours went by...we sat there...I went to the bathroom a few times, I think, and they gradually upped my Pitocin pretty much every hour.
They started me at 2 (I think mL/hour?), and gradually increased til at about 1 p.m. I was at 20 mL/hr when my doctor finally came to visit. Now, most women's bodies respond to Pitocin around the 12-14 mark, and the maximum dosage they ever give a woman is 25. So when my doc came in, he (and by this point, the nurses too) were a little concerned that my body showed no signs of doing anything.
Then my doctor said the one phrase guaranteed to put any pregnant woman into a rage, ESPECIALLY an overdue one who went in to be induced:
"Well, we might just want to send you home, since nothing's happening..."
I gave David a silent glare and in my head said There is no way in HELL I am leaving this hospital without a baby. We came here to be induced, for goodness' sake! Isn't that kind of the point?? If I have to go home without a baby I will MURDER SOMEONE.
David, being the wonderful mind-reader that he is, asked our doctor if there was another option. Because really, if we went home, we'd wait for another couple days and what, come back in to be induced then, since we were already almost at 41 weeks? Seemed silly to both of us.
Our doctor agreed to let us try the whole induction process again from the beginning, after a break to let the Pitocin wear out of me and let me eat some real food, since I hadn't had a full meal since the previous night's Chipotle.
We ordered some food from the cafeteria and ate, and then I had a bit of a crying session. Can you blame me? It's a little disheartening to know that modern medicine is doing all it can to get your body to go into labor, and have nothing happen. I don't think I told David this ever, but at that point I was pretty convinced that I'd end up with a C-section...because that's what happens when your body doesn't do what it should.
My mom came for a surprise visit to try and cheer me up, and so we all took a walk outside so David and I could escape that room that had been our home for almost 24 hours at this point. We also made a stop in the chapel to pray (love Catholic hospitals) where I made pretty much the most fervent prayer I've ever prayed to our Blessed Mother to please call in a bunch of favors and let me go home with a baby, pretty please? Then we went back to our room...
aaaaand that's where I'm going to leave part 1 for you all! Baby Kate is getting hungry so I've gotta go feed her.
Stay posted for the riveting end to our story! Coming soon, I promise. :)
UPDATE: part 2 found hereeeee. Enjoy yourselves.
HG
Here goes the epic, multi-part saga of Baby Kate's birth. Grab a snack, get in a comfy chair, and settle in for the long haul because this is gonna take awhile.
First, let's look at the beauty that caused (and resulted from) all this schtuff.
she does love her car seat! |
At my 40 week doctor's appointment (May 23), we had the induction talk with our doctor. It looked like Kate wasn't going to budge without some sort of assistance, and because of a very long and complicated situation with our insurance (which I'm convinced is the devil's occupation), we wanted to make sure and have Baby G before June hit.
Our doc was perfectly fine with inducing the next Wednesday if nothing had happened naturally by then, so we made an appointment at the hospital for May 28th at 7:30. It was sort of surreal making that appointment, because we then had this definite time frame of for-sure-we-will-have-a-baby-by-this-date in our heads.
Up until that point, even though we had reached and passed the 40 week mark, the baby's arrival still felt like it wasn't actually ever going to happen. I could definitely still understand that there was a large baby inside me (gettin' larger every gosh-darn moment) but it still didn't seem like that baby would ever be out here in the world. Not sure if that's a first-time mom thing, or happens every pregnancy, but it was definitely surreal.
Of course, nothing happened between that doctor's appointment and our appointment at the hospital. I spent every night between that Friday and Tuesday wishing, praying, taking my EPO (evening primrose oil), drinking raspberry leaf tea, and walking miles and miles and MILES, it seemed like, in order to get somethin' going down there.
It was a little frustrating, to say the least. I think I had LESS Braxton-Hicks contractions during those 5 days than I had all the weeks leading up to my due date. I was exhausted from all my walking, and from having literally nothing else to think about except for the baby and wanting it to just freaking get here already!
proof of huge-ness |
Nothing happened, so when we hit Wednesday night, it was go time.
Having an appointment to be induced was basically the opposite of all the scenes in the movies they show of people running around with their heads cut off to get to the hospital. We went to the vigil Mass for the Assumption at our parish (the feast day was the next day), stopped and got some Chipotle for a "one-last-meal" feel, went home and ate, and then leisurely packed our bags and drove to the hospital.
We kept saying to each other, "Can you believe we're going to have this baby now?" It was crazy.
Walking in the halls to the baby ward was hilarious - pretty much every person in any sort of scrubs gave me a double or triple take, because I was obviously huge and carrying our stuff, but didn't seem to be in any sort of labor. Yep, a little disappointing. But it was way too much work to try and explain that to every person we passed, so I just let it slide.
We checked in all casually, and went to our labor room...which we envisioned would be our home for only 24 or so hours. Ohhhhh how wrong we were!
Now to the nitty gritty.
I got hooked up to the contraction monitor and the baby heartbeat monitor, and laid there for awhile all still so they could see Baby G. I was having painless contractions, according to the monitors, and baby was looking great, so they began the induction process.
A quick disclaimer: if you're getting induced, please know that what happened to me rarely every happens...the nurses and my doc were all pretty surprised about it. It wasn't horrible, either, but just wanna put that out there.
They started my induction by putting in a dose of Cytotec (or however you spell it...my blogging time is limited so I'm not gonna look up how to spell it) and let me chill for awhile. David and I whiled away the time by playing Go Fish, watching Harry Potter and HGTV, and narrowing down our list of names.
We had spent basically the entire pregnancy convinced that Kate was a boy. Every single one of our friends who have kids have girls, and we both just KNEW she had to be a boy. Even our nurses and doctor all thought boy from the way I was carrying. So when I say we spent time discussing names, I mean we talked about our boy name options, and basically just forgot about the possibility of it being a girl.
Can't remember if I posted this pic already, but this was a CA-RAY-ZEE storm that rolled through Lincoln in about a 20 minute time span. It warranted an amused-face pic from me. |
So we whiled (wiled? whilled? how the biff do you spell that word?) away the hours amusing ourselves for awhile as the Cytotec got to work. The plan was to wait and see how it did, maybe put another dose of the same in if it wasn't working, and then in the morning switch to Pitocin to get some contractions going.
Let me tell you, it's probably a good thing that we don't have cable, because we would just watch HGTV 24/7 like the boring old married couple that we are. We got majorly spoiled during our trip - so much so that I thought about going to visit my parents just to watch another episode of Love It or List It. It was bad.
I think we both finally went to sleep around 11 p.m., maybe a bit later. I was still having contractions, and feeling them a teensy bit more than before, but they weren't painful at all. I had a few vag exams at this point, but they didn't want to disturb the drug up there so not a ton. When I was checked when we came in, I had made zero progress from my doctor's appointment the week previous, and one of the checks in the middle of the night was the same - 1 cm, with maybe a tiny wiggle past that. Technical term, y'all.
I slept for maybe 4 hours, getting woken up every two hours or so for a nurse to come in and check something, and David slept for a little bit longer, maybe 5 hours, on the oh-so-glamorous couch that really isn't made for a long-haul stay.
When it was time to maybe put another dose of Cytotec in, they came in and looked, and my contractions were too close together to put another dose in (something about the drug makes it so you can't put in another dose if they're too close together...idk). So at around 5:00 in the morning they started me on Pitocin, with all the IV and fluids that go with that.
Once again, my contractions picked up a little bit, but nothing was super painful or distracting. I could still talk through my contractions, and they weren't doing squat. Every time a nurse came in to check me, she had this hopeful expression but then had the same thing to respond...still 1 cm, no progress.
Talk about disappointment. After hearing horror stories of women who just detest Pitocin contractions, here I was sitting pretty with contractions close together that weren't painful and that weren't doing anything!
David and I watched more HGTV and the Weather Channel (like I said...boring old married couple). He kept suggesting we watching something a little more entertaining, but I was expecting any moment to go into real labor and I didn't want to have to deal with putting his laptop away, so I kept shutting that idea down.
Hours went by...we sat there...I went to the bathroom a few times, I think, and they gradually upped my Pitocin pretty much every hour.
They started me at 2 (I think mL/hour?), and gradually increased til at about 1 p.m. I was at 20 mL/hr when my doctor finally came to visit. Now, most women's bodies respond to Pitocin around the 12-14 mark, and the maximum dosage they ever give a woman is 25. So when my doc came in, he (and by this point, the nurses too) were a little concerned that my body showed no signs of doing anything.
stubborn like her parents! |
"Well, we might just want to send you home, since nothing's happening..."
I gave David a silent glare and in my head said There is no way in HELL I am leaving this hospital without a baby. We came here to be induced, for goodness' sake! Isn't that kind of the point?? If I have to go home without a baby I will MURDER SOMEONE.
David, being the wonderful mind-reader that he is, asked our doctor if there was another option. Because really, if we went home, we'd wait for another couple days and what, come back in to be induced then, since we were already almost at 41 weeks? Seemed silly to both of us.
Our doctor agreed to let us try the whole induction process again from the beginning, after a break to let the Pitocin wear out of me and let me eat some real food, since I hadn't had a full meal since the previous night's Chipotle.
We ordered some food from the cafeteria and ate, and then I had a bit of a crying session. Can you blame me? It's a little disheartening to know that modern medicine is doing all it can to get your body to go into labor, and have nothing happen. I don't think I told David this ever, but at that point I was pretty convinced that I'd end up with a C-section...because that's what happens when your body doesn't do what it should.
My mom came for a surprise visit to try and cheer me up, and so we all took a walk outside so David and I could escape that room that had been our home for almost 24 hours at this point. We also made a stop in the chapel to pray (love Catholic hospitals) where I made pretty much the most fervent prayer I've ever prayed to our Blessed Mother to please call in a bunch of favors and let me go home with a baby, pretty please? Then we went back to our room...
aaaaand that's where I'm going to leave part 1 for you all! Baby Kate is getting hungry so I've gotta go feed her.
Stay posted for the riveting end to our story! Coming soon, I promise. :)
UPDATE: part 2 found hereeeee. Enjoy yourselves.
HG
Ahh! I'm riveted :) Can't wait for part 2!
ReplyDeleteI'm probably one of the most impatient people of all time so this would have KILLED ME. I would've been right there with you saying no way jose am I leaving without a baby! Haha, can't wait for part 2!
ReplyDelete