Sweet heavenly sleep. I was finally able to get the rest I needed. I slept through most of Sunday morning and afternoon while the pitocin drip increased the strength of the contractions I could not feel and my favorite black clogs made their appearance behind the curtain. I was overjoyed to know that my wonderful doctor would actually get to be there to deliver the baby we had excitedly watched grow for the last nine months. It makes me teary now thinking about what an amazing doctor I have and the bond that we created. I'm saddened knowing I won't get to see her every month now.
It wasn't until 5 in the early evening that the pain once again became existent. It surfaced as quickly as it had disappeared and did not subside until we welcomed our sweet girl.
I distinctly remember the pain and uncomfortable pressure that took over from that point. It was powerful enough to overrule the effects of the epidural and the constant pressing of the button I could control. Two distressing hours later, I told my doctor I was ready to push.
This was the beginning to our happy ending.
Over the next three hours, we tried five different positions in order to aid the descent of our bean- on my back, one my side with one leg up, with my feet on the bar, pulling myself up using the bar, and my legs elevated at different levels. I huffed and pushed to the point where I could almost not do it any longer. Whatever pain the epidural had masked earlier in the day, was now definitely present. I believe now that it had probably worn off or the dose was not high enough (especially since I felt a lot of pain while my doctor repaired a small tear afterwards). Our doctor, nurse, and hubby could see the amazing progress (or so they said over and over again) I was making and once we reached the end of the third hour, which, passed unbelievably quickly to me, we were all wondering if there needed to be an intervention. I worked so hard by pushing up to five times during each contraction because I could not wait to see my little girl. Yet, there came a point when I announced, while on the verge of tears, that I needed some help because of the immense pain and what I felt at the time was not enough progress. My doctor then suggested suctioning our babe in order to assist my efforts. In a flurry, a large number of nurses and pediatricians entered the room as they prepared to suction and receive our little miracle. Three pushes later, our beautiful Amélie was welcomed to the world with a bubble on her nose and a cheer from everyone present. She was quickly examined by the pediatricians and surprised us all by being a lot smaller than anyone had predicted, but still perfectly complete and healthy.
I was instantly in love.
Showing posts with label our bean story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label our bean story. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
The Bean Birth Story: Part Two
I expected a great deal of pain as I imagined the needle penetrating the skin in my back. It was nothing close to being painful. It was the faintest of pains. It was the kind of pain I'd wince at for a second but never think twice of. My fears subsided as I imagined the opportunity for my future contractions to be eliminated with the constant drip of a drug, yet I still hoped that it wouldn't be necessary. I got my last look at the black, red, and green Nikes as the anesthesiologist exited and left me with the nurse offering me the first dose of drugs to induce my labor.
A quarter of an itty bitty pill was all it took. The nurse, just as I expected, gave me a thorough explanation of what would be taking place. This pill would begin to thin out my cervix and could potentially be administered every four hours until I was at the point where pitocin could be used.
One dose and the cramping and mild contractions began. The pain of the surges was almost non-existent and I chatted, laughed, ate dinner, and blogged about our exciting news. This I could handle all night at the frequency of 2 and a half minutes. During the seven hours that followed, the hubby made a visit to our place to collect our bags that were not fully prepared and came with the abuelito in tow. We were really on our way to becoming parents.
At ten in the evening the tall female doctor announced that it was time for the next step. A foley catheter would be inserted to continue the good progress I was making. She showed me the tool and again explained the process thoroughly to ease my fears as I'm sure she couldn't ignore the look on my face. I winced as I imagined a balloon expanding inside me and once it was inserted, there was no doubt my original fears about the foley catheter were not without warrant. The contractions immediately increased and became much more uncomfortable. I had to take the time to breath through each one while the hubby held my hand tightly and guided me. This was the start of a long night of watching bad television, no sleep, and increasing pain. The pain only intensified once the catheter was removed at two in the morning.
At 7 in the morning, it was time for some rest. I realized this process was going to take much longer and getting some repose was vital in order to me to make it through what was to come and the pain at that moment was unbearable. The hour I waited for the drugs was one of the longest. Looking back I believe I questioned where the anesthesiologist was at least ten times. It was also during this time that during one really painful contraction I felt the warm gush of water on my legs.
"How could it be taking so long when all he has to do is set up the drugs and plug it in?! Where is he!?"
Twenty minutes after the drugs began, I was finally able to sleep.
It was the best sleep of my life.
A quarter of an itty bitty pill was all it took. The nurse, just as I expected, gave me a thorough explanation of what would be taking place. This pill would begin to thin out my cervix and could potentially be administered every four hours until I was at the point where pitocin could be used.
One dose and the cramping and mild contractions began. The pain of the surges was almost non-existent and I chatted, laughed, ate dinner, and blogged about our exciting news. This I could handle all night at the frequency of 2 and a half minutes. During the seven hours that followed, the hubby made a visit to our place to collect our bags that were not fully prepared and came with the abuelito in tow. We were really on our way to becoming parents.
At ten in the evening the tall female doctor announced that it was time for the next step. A foley catheter would be inserted to continue the good progress I was making. She showed me the tool and again explained the process thoroughly to ease my fears as I'm sure she couldn't ignore the look on my face. I winced as I imagined a balloon expanding inside me and once it was inserted, there was no doubt my original fears about the foley catheter were not without warrant. The contractions immediately increased and became much more uncomfortable. I had to take the time to breath through each one while the hubby held my hand tightly and guided me. This was the start of a long night of watching bad television, no sleep, and increasing pain. The pain only intensified once the catheter was removed at two in the morning.
At 7 in the morning, it was time for some rest. I realized this process was going to take much longer and getting some repose was vital in order to me to make it through what was to come and the pain at that moment was unbearable. The hour I waited for the drugs was one of the longest. Looking back I believe I questioned where the anesthesiologist was at least ten times. It was also during this time that during one really painful contraction I felt the warm gush of water on my legs.
"How could it be taking so long when all he has to do is set up the drugs and plug it in?! Where is he!?"
Twenty minutes after the drugs began, I was finally able to sleep.
It was the best sleep of my life.
The Bean Birth Story: Part One
"We're going to have you stay and we will be inducing you."
The band around my arm that was monitoring my blood pressure since arriving in labor and delivery about an hour earlier started to constrict my arm in that instant. I quickly turned to look at the hubby who was staring right back at me in disbelief. I could see the excitement in his eyes as he knew he would get to hold our baby a few weeks before schedule. My body experienced an explosion of thoughts and feelings - elation, fear, anticipation, shock, nervousness, happiness... and it became evident to those in the room as the machine alerted us to my extremely high blood pressure. Yet, the only thing that mattered to me in that second was that I was going to meet my daughter and become a mother.
The two doctors that stood before us went into detail about what would be occurring and the consequences linked to the results of my blood tests. Since the previous day, my blood pressure was still maintaining a level considered high for me, proteins were still in my urine although not as high as before, and the platelet count was lower. All this placed me under the classification of being in the early stages of preeclampsia. They said that they preferred to be overcautious and that was why they were going to go the safest route and induce my labor. Then, came something serious to consider- due to my low platelet count it was necessary to decide if I would eventually want an epidural- now. The kind doctors went on to explain that low platelets meant a possibility of no blood clots to prevent excessive bleeding and thus, before my levels possibly went any lower, I should have the epidural catheter inserted in case I desired to have one later on or if for whatever reason, I needed a cesarean. Otherwise, pain relief in that form would not be an option and being awake during my child's birth would be denied. I would have to be put under.
"An epidural?! A giant needle in my back?! Now, before I've even experienced any pain?!" My blood pressure once again peaked. The alternative of a needle and catheter in my back to the options given was easy enough. "How soon can the anesthesiologist be here?"
Within the hour the door opened and I glanced down at the shoes of the individual coming from behind the curtain. Sneakers. Black, red, and green. Nikes. This was something I did every. single. time. until our bean arrived. I wanted to know who to expect before seeing a face. The shoes really told me a lot about the person arriving. The anesthesiologist came in and I realized we had met during one of our classes at Kaiser. Tall and goofy with a slight stutter. Our sweet nurse rolled her eyes at his nonchalant manner about something serious like an epidural and the mood in the room was light and full of excitement.
These moments- the bonnet on my head to keep my hair out of the way, my back and rear clearly exposed, the joking but very qualified young anesthesiologist, and the smiles and laughs between the hubby and me are very clear in my mind. It was the beginning.
The band around my arm that was monitoring my blood pressure since arriving in labor and delivery about an hour earlier started to constrict my arm in that instant. I quickly turned to look at the hubby who was staring right back at me in disbelief. I could see the excitement in his eyes as he knew he would get to hold our baby a few weeks before schedule. My body experienced an explosion of thoughts and feelings - elation, fear, anticipation, shock, nervousness, happiness... and it became evident to those in the room as the machine alerted us to my extremely high blood pressure. Yet, the only thing that mattered to me in that second was that I was going to meet my daughter and become a mother.
The two doctors that stood before us went into detail about what would be occurring and the consequences linked to the results of my blood tests. Since the previous day, my blood pressure was still maintaining a level considered high for me, proteins were still in my urine although not as high as before, and the platelet count was lower. All this placed me under the classification of being in the early stages of preeclampsia. They said that they preferred to be overcautious and that was why they were going to go the safest route and induce my labor. Then, came something serious to consider- due to my low platelet count it was necessary to decide if I would eventually want an epidural- now. The kind doctors went on to explain that low platelets meant a possibility of no blood clots to prevent excessive bleeding and thus, before my levels possibly went any lower, I should have the epidural catheter inserted in case I desired to have one later on or if for whatever reason, I needed a cesarean. Otherwise, pain relief in that form would not be an option and being awake during my child's birth would be denied. I would have to be put under.
"An epidural?! A giant needle in my back?! Now, before I've even experienced any pain?!" My blood pressure once again peaked. The alternative of a needle and catheter in my back to the options given was easy enough. "How soon can the anesthesiologist be here?"
Within the hour the door opened and I glanced down at the shoes of the individual coming from behind the curtain. Sneakers. Black, red, and green. Nikes. This was something I did every. single. time. until our bean arrived. I wanted to know who to expect before seeing a face. The shoes really told me a lot about the person arriving. The anesthesiologist came in and I realized we had met during one of our classes at Kaiser. Tall and goofy with a slight stutter. Our sweet nurse rolled her eyes at his nonchalant manner about something serious like an epidural and the mood in the room was light and full of excitement.
These moments- the bonnet on my head to keep my hair out of the way, my back and rear clearly exposed, the joking but very qualified young anesthesiologist, and the smiles and laughs between the hubby and me are very clear in my mind. It was the beginning.
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