Day 23

Day 23 - Something you crave for a lot

Hmm! Did you see yesterdays post? About these guys?

Yea! I crave those. A lot.

Also these

And last, but certainly not least

Hunter's Day

It's hard for me to believe that 4 years ago today, I was in the hospital (still waiting at 1:51PM) for my little Squirt to be born. At this point, we were confident he would be born that day, but we had already had a difficult journey with the whole labor/delivery process.

Hunter's birth story started on October 30th, 2006. It was a Monday. Chase had Monday's off at the time - and we had a full day planned. We were 2 weeks from our due date (November 11th). We drove to the fire station and had them install the car seat in Chase's Audi and give Chase a lesson on how to do it properly so he could repeat in my car. I had a routine checkup that afternoon. Everything was going swell - although our doctor started discussing with us the fact that she would be out of town for a few days before my due date. Ideally, she wanted to induce me on Nov. 6th to insure she did not miss our delivery. We had all assumed at this point in time I would go past my due date. Having a baby earlier sounded great to me! I was DONE being pregnant.

During our ultrasound (I had many of them as I had low amniotic fluid throughout my pregnancy) she noticed again that our fluid was approaching dangerously low. She wanted us to induce that night. At that point in time, I didn't really understand what an "induction" was - all I knew was that I wanted my baby and I wanted him NOW. After confirming with us that we wouldn't mind if our baby was born on Halloween (no way, I thought it would be super cool!), she scheduled us to come back at 8PM. Chase and I continued our plans for the day, and went and saw The Prestige. I don't remember a single thing about that movie - my mind and heart were doing flips and back flips as I anticipated Squirt making his entrance the very next day!

We went home and made the last minute additions to our hospital bags (which were...half way packed or so). Chase ate dinner. I stared at some Raman Noodles (in retrospect, I should have eaten! A lot!) And then, we headed off to the hospital, anxious as can be.

When I was checking into L&D, the nurses started freaking out! They were looking at their charts and notebooks, trying to figure out what doctor had scheduled a premature delivery. I had to point out to them that I was 38 weeks, and despite my tiny belly, I was ready to have a full term baby. I think their sighs of relief were audible. Anyways, we got settled in and they inserted a pill (Cytotec) near my cervix that supposedly would soften things up down there while simulating contractions. I was dilated to 0.

Throughout that first night, I had contractions on and off. I didn't sleep very much, or very well. My back hurt. A lot. At the time, I wasn't sure if it was back labor, or if it was just the bed and my preggo belly - it was definitely contractions and back labor. At 4AM, they started me on Pitocin - the drug that jump starts labor. They told Chase and I that they would continually increase it (if I needed it) until they reached a certain "limit." I don't know the numbers - although I'm sure my husband does.

We had a few visitors throughout that day. My mom's work told her to take the day off as she needed to be with me - so she spent the entire day with us - and others popped in and out. Although I was still in pain for the majority of the day, it wasn't anything unmanageable. The hardest part that I remember is that I wasn't allowed any food - just broth and ice chips. Yum! My doctor came in and out throughout the day to check on my progress - Unfortunately, I just wasn't making any, regardless of the fact she broke my water early in the day. I had some wonderful nurses though that were trying to attempt to help me along. I believe they manually dilated me to a 2 sometime on Tuesday. As the day progressed, the amount of Pitocin they were pumping into me increased as well.

By Tuesday night, I had made very little progress. They decided to insert a foley catheter. It's job is to slowly inflate a balloon dealy with water right up against your cervix. Let me tell ya...it's not very comfortable. No, let me rephrase that. It's awful. Completely horrendous. I sang my ABC's to get me through my contractions (no, I didn't learn that at my birthing classes, I came up with it all on my own, spur of the moment!). They told our guests that we wouldn't have a baby that night (I might have cried), so they should go home and call and check in the morning. Around 11 that night, my night nurse came and told me that I really needed to get some sleep. UM YA! Like that was going to happen...I was still singing my ABCs through very, very painful contractions. She said our doctor insisted that I get some sleep, and we needed to do whatever was necessary to make that happen...so, she brought in the narcotics! For 10 minutes at a time, every 25 minutes, I felt blissfully wonderful and was able to sleep. And then the pain came back with such force it woke me up and brought me to tears every time. Chase was dead asleep at this point in time - lucky him! After a few rounds of that, our nurse told me it just wasn't working, and we needed an epidural. I really didn't want one as I hadn't really dilated at all (I wasn't opposed to having an epidural, just didn't want one until I was further along)- but they really wouldn't give me a choice in the matter at the point. Chase woke up. And a few hours later, we met Malcolm. He's the only part of our staff who I remember clearly (aside from our doctor) - and it was 3AM, 31 hours into labor! Malcolm was hilarious - and although I had never had an anesthesiologist before, he was definitely the best I ever had! He made jokes constantly while inserting a needle into my back. Chase still won't describe the needle to me, and that's probably a good thing. And after Malcolm left, life was just SO much better. I fell asleep and other than being checked on every hour or so, it was a great rest of the night. Ahh. Love epidurals!

The next morning, our guests arrived again. Our doctor arrived. We were all ready for her to check my progress and tell me I slept through the rest of my labor and that I was almost ready to push. Ha! She told me I was 2. Still. Still. Still. Still a 2. It was heart breaking. Especially since I had had pretty much constant contractions since early in the day Tuesday.

They raised the Pitocin. Throughout Wednesday, they continued to raise it. By Wednesday afternoon, it was so high that they had gone over their "limit" for how much Pitocin they would give me. My heart rate was becoming irregular. I was dizzy and pretty out of it. I felt incredibly drugged. I didn't really understand what was happening at that point. A nurse kindly dilated me to a 3. With an epidural, that was a much better experience than the first time around.

Around 4, my doctor came to check me. Still a 3. She gave us two choices - A. Continue what we were doing. Check in a few hours. If I wasn't dilated more, we would have a C-Section. B. Go have the C-Section right then. As she told us her choices, I was crying, more and more. I didn't really want to have a C-Section. I also really didn't want to keep doing what we were doing. I wanted a choice C, but of course, there isn't really one of those. I didn't know what to decide. I was a mess. I was sobbing. My heart rate sky rocketed. So did Squirt's. Chase stepped in, took the doctor into the hall and told her we needed to have a C-Section now. He was becoming increasingly worried about me and Hunter throughout that afternoon. I was so out of it and loopy. I'm so happy he made that decision for us - it was a decision was I unable to make, and I needed him to step up then and he did. They got us prepped for surgery and away we went.

After a routine C-Section with no complications (other than the typical shaking, trembling, shivering and throwing up), Hunter Logan was born at 5:36PM on Wednesday, November 1st, 2006 - 45 hours after labor started. Chase was able to see him immediately, cut his cord, and hold him right away. He brought him to me as soon as he could (I spent some time afterwards puking in a bed pan) - I was able to see him, touch him, and give him a kiss. They took Chase and Hunter away as they finished sewing me back up. It was only 14 minutes from the time Hunter was born until they were ready to wheel me out of surgery - but to me, it felt like a small lifetime. I really thought hours had gone by. All I wanted was to go see how Hunter was. I wanted to hold him SO bad. When they finally wheeled me out of the room, I looked at the clock and it was 5:50PM. After getting back into my room, Chase brought me Hunter and I was FINALLY able to hold my baby and feed him. It was a wonderful moment, and right then, nothing else mattered.

Hunter was an incredibly healthy little boy, who did wonderfully on his APGAR tests. In the hospital, he barely cried at all. He was content, and completely at ease with his new world. The first night was tough for me as Hunter's bassinet was clear across the room from me -and even though he slept, and I was exhausted, I just stared at his bassinet. I couldn't really see him. I didn't really know that he was okay. I was very worried. Chase was getting some much needed sleep. And I just continued to stare -unable to move to go check on him. Finally, a nurse came and asked me if I wanted her to take him to the nursery. Although I really didn't, I needed to sleep, and there was nothing I could do for Hunter from my bed, so I let her. They brought him in to me every few hours to feed - but other than that, he spent the night in the nursery. Although it makes me a little bit sad, I was thankful for that, and I needed it.

The next morning, I was able to get up and walk around, eat breakfast, and start recovering. My recovery went very well, and I had little pain. We spent the next 2 days at the hospital (with Hunter rooming with us for the rest of our stay), and were finally able to go home on Saturday.

While I don't regret or have bad feelings over my labor, I know that it will never happen again. Our next child will either come on his/her own or I will have a scheduled C-Section. Either way is fine with me - I just know that being induced was not for me. In the end, I got a healthy, wonderful baby boy - but the means to get there weren't good for anyone.