Monday, September 26, 2011

Two weeks and all is well.

Tomorrow marks Dante's first two weeks in the world.  He's happily keeping me and Eli awake all night, but we're just happy he's here with us.  He loves his swing (from his Aunt Naomi) and would sleep in it all the time if he could.  He's also fond of peeing all over everything whenever Eli changes his diaper.  We've had to wash the comforter twice in the last week.  Usually it's accompanied by well-timed poop that has Eli flailing.  It would be funny if the comforter wasn't a pain to wash.  I think I may just have him buy me a new one.  So far, Dante is gaining weight (5 pounds 8.5 ounces at last check up) and acting just like a healthy baby is supposed to.  It's quite a relief, but it doesn't negate the horrible "my baby is going to die" dreams I keep having.  Hopefully, those will pass with time and counseling.  Or maybe just lots of ice cream.  I have run out of pain meds, and I'm beginning to think that life really is better with narcotics.  Also, I highly suggest checking the milk before you drink it when you have abdominal issues because sour milk working it's way through your system at that point is *awesome*.  Also also, the hospital has me addicted to apple juice as well as narcotics.  This is really just a weird, all over the place update, most likely attributed to lack of sleep and over-consumption of fruity beverages.  Also also also, my son is freaking adorable.



they didn't have you where i come from
never knew the best was yet to come
life began when i saw your face
and i hear your laugh like a serenade

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Well, that was unexpected.

Or at least, as unexpected as birth ever is I suppose.  Monday night was the full moon.  We all joked about how my water would break in a horribly embarrassing place because crazy things and babies like full moons.  My water broke at 1:30am Tuesday morning...on the toilet.  Crazy, I know.  Pop.  Gush.  Fluid.  I wasn't convinced it was my water because it seemed too easy, it didn't continue to gush, and hello, I was on the toilet for a reason.  I went back to bed...on top of a towel just in case.  Around 4am, I got up to go to the bathroom again (completely normal) and found pink-tinged slime.  Hello labor, good-bye mucous plug.  I went back to bed.  The contractions started at around 5, and most of them weren't too bad.  A couple had me deciding that I liked needles after all and I'd like the epidural now thank you.  So naturally, I went back to bed.  I figured we had a while to go and I wanted to labor at home for as long as I could anyway.  Eli got up at around that point, and I informed him he wouldn't be going to work that day.  We decided he should just go get his laptop from his office instead.  I go back to bed.  He comes back, we have breakfast, we pack the car, all very civilized.  So far, this is really boring, right?  Then Eli finds the paper on my hospital bag titled something like "Go to the Hospital NOW When Any of These Things Happens!!"  He skims it then says, "Hey, you meet all eight of these requirements....we should call the hospital."  A back and forth ensues.  I don't want to be strapped to a bed because my water broke, Eli insisted that there's a reason they make us come to the hospital.  He wins.  We call and go in.

We get to the hospital at around 9am, park in the wrong area, try again, and finally find admitting.  They didn't even check me, just set me up with a room in labor and delivery.  About thirty minutes goes by, my contractions are getting closer together, and they finally hook me up to the monitors.  One belt is for Dante's heartbeat, one belt is for my contractions.  The first contraction hits and Dante's heartbeat drops from like 150 to 50.  Serious distress.  Me, Eli, and the nurse look at each other for a second.  Maybe we moved the monitor?  We find his heartbeat again, normal.  The second contraction hits and his heartbeat drops again.  The nurse immediately starts making me get into weird positions (not just lying on my back) to bring his heartbeat back up while frantically paging the front desk and yelling that she needs help.  No one responds for maybe 25 seconds, so she takes off running down the hallway, yelling for help.  At this point, I'm feeling a little nervous.  The room quickly fills with nurses and doctors (one of whom is mine).  They start poking me with things better left unsaid and discussing options.  They decide the baby likes it best on my hands and knees, so that's the position I'm stuck in.  His heartbeat goes back up for a bit, then another contraction hits and my doctor comes to the head of the bed to talk in a very serious voice.  She says we need to have an emergency c-section now because he's not tolerating labor.

I'm now shaking just retelling this part because that was when I started to freak out on the inside. They wheeled me away to an OR room and told me they didn't have time for regular anesthesia.  I'd have to be put to sleep.  Maybe 15 minutes had passed since the time the nurse ran down the hallway.  I had two IVs, they'd taken a lot of blood, eveyone was rushing around.  They didn't even change me out of the regular hospital gown, just put a cap over my hair.  I remember crying, and my doctor crying, and the anesthetist telling me that I needed to breathe deep and I would feel pressure on my throat.  The worst part was right before I went out when I couldn't draw in a breath to do the deep breathing they wanted.  I tried to tell him I couldn't breathe, but nothing worked.  I woke up in recovery.

Eli was there, but the baby wasn't.  He was in the Special Needs Nursery being treated for low blood sugar.  Which is where he remains because he's having trouble regulating it himself.  It's probably not helping that he refuses to drink from a bottle, so they're feeding him through a tube.  He was 5 pounds, 8 ounces at birth, smaller than they'd anticipated by a lot, but he was 20 inches long, which explains the skewing.  He's also adorable.  The nurses in the Special Need Nursery are calling him a miracle baby because it was a miracle he survived.  He had an abnormally long umbilical cord that was wrapped around his neck three times.  Every time I had a contraction, he was strangling.  My doctor said that if we'd waited another 20 minutes he probably wouldn't have made it.  Eli couldn't be in the room when he was born because it was too fast, but he got there just after and cut the cord.  He was also able to stay with Dante until they whisked him off to the nursery.  I'm still having moments of panic when I think about it.

Obviously, we're still in the hospital.  The powers that be finally let me eat and move around today, so I got to hold Dante some more.  I'm itchy and sore and sliced open, but I'm so freaking thankful that Eli bullied me into calling the hospital and that my doctor doesn't waste any time when the shit hits the fan.  The nurses are impressed with how "easily" I'm moving, but it's become clear that Dante can't come to me, so I have to go to him.  I'm sure I'll regret the movement once he's in the room with us and I don't have to move to be near him.

So there you go, after the tamest pregnancy, everything went all crazy right at the end.  And now, pictures:


Friday, September 9, 2011

Yes, I'm still pregnant.

I've been getting a lot of sly messages that sound something like: sooo, how are you feeling?  While I admit it could be annoying, I'm enjoying it.  The messages make me feel loved, and I'm really amused that what everyone means is: are you in labor yet?  The answer is no.  I'm not in labor.  I am 39 weeks and 1 day pregnant, and I'm just as ready as everyone else to be in labor.  My doctor mentioned induction again at our appointment this morning, but this time she had me schedule an appointment early next week to talk about it specifically.  Dante is doing fine, she's just still worried about his size and my apparent lack of labor signs. 

Unless crazy hormones are a sign of labor.  I was pretty sure they were just a sign of pregnancy.  I was playing League of Legends with Eli and a friend last night, but I was sucking it up.  The two people we didn't know who were playing with us spent the entire first half of the match making jackhole comments about me and to me in the chat window.  It got to me so bad that I had to leave the room to go cry in the bathroom.  I didn't come back until the match was over.  Now, I'm not thin-skinned and I talk crap with the rest of the gamer boys, but for some reason, it pushed me over the edge into sad panda territory last night.  Eli suggested hormones.  I think he may be right.  Our son is turning me into a girl.

Now that the baby talk is out of the way, on to school!  Surprisingly, classes are going well.  My students are active (well, most of them), and I'm not having any problems keeping up so far.  Considering that I still feel drained all day despite sleeping plenty at night now, I'm pretty happy with my ability to teach.  It's still a weird transition to get up in the morning knowing I need to put in hours of work but that I don't have to go anywhere.  This is especially awesome because I've pretty much outgrown my maternity clothes.  I blame the pumpkin pies I've been making because it feels like fall.  And maybe the pumpkin muffins.  And the pumpkin pancakes I had the other night, but those were whole wheat pancakes, so healthy...right? 

Now I'm hungry. And out of pumpkin.


throw your soul through every open door
count your blessings to find what you look for

Friday, September 2, 2011

So tired.

I need to stop waking up at 4am.  I'm trying to stay up as late as I can tonight in the hopes that my body will rest through the usual 4am wakeup cramps and restless leg syndrome.  Since I'm sure everyone is dying to know...we are officially not being induced... yet.  The Braxton-Hicks contractions are getting stronger every day, and my doctor is happy about that.  I just have to remember to sit up very straight if I want to breathe.  We had two non-stress tests this week, and Dante passed both of them beautifully.  Obviously he's not in distress, he's just small and active.  I have to get two more next week before my Friday appointment. 

Classes start on Tuesday, and I already have students emailing me with questions.  I suppose that's good since I like active students (and it shows that at least one of them knows how to use a computer), but for the first time in...well, ever...I'm a little nervous about teaching.  Not the act itself, but my ability to actually handle two full classes (40 students total) while birthing and subsequently taking care of a small human.  I keep having dreams that I'm forgetting something important for my classes.  I find myself with the strong need to constantly check my syllabi/websites/rosters/notes/etc to make sure that everything is in order.  That's actually what I was doing this morning at 5am when I gave in and admitted that I wasn't going back to sleep.  Then I went to the gym.  Thank goodness for the gym.  It makes me physically unable to check email or clean or fix anything in my life.  I can just breathe for an hour (provided I'm standing or sitting very straight) and try not to fall off the machines.  In all fairness, that only happened once and I blame my shoelace. 

Quick thanks to Natalie who gave me the awesome present today of pretty toes.  Now I have something shiny to focus on during labor. 


today i don't feel like doing anything
i just wanna lay in my bed