The survival of my pregnancy and birth

In my last post, i gave you all the advice i think you need for the journey of having a child.  Now that you have that, i will give you the story of my First child....

I will warn you, this is a long one.. but i am writing it for myself as much as for the blog and i don't want to ever forget the details of my baby girl.

It all started...... well we will skip that part. We all know how it started.

Long story short, i was pregnant... the test proved so 2 weeks later.

The next 3 months, everyone tried to tell me that my symptoms were in my head.... that I wasn't really tired.  I wasn't actually moody.  My bloat had to also be in my brain.  

It only lasted about 3 months because after that i got pissed at all the rude customers and quit.  I should have quit sooner, but i'm tough and don't quit...  until i couldn't handle it and quit : ) 

I was pregnant an entire 37 weeks and all but 3 of those were the most miserable weeks of my life.  Some people love being pregnant.  I am not one of those people.  I hated the cravings.  I hated not being able to do new things or be crazy active.  I hated not being able to have a beer without worry about the alcohol content.  I hated none of my clothes fitting and the weight that i gained.  I hated my boobs.  I hated people telling me i didn't look pregnant.  so overall,  I did NOT enjoy being pregnant.  

By the time 36 weeks hit, i KNEW i was not going to make it to 40.  My body did not like being pregnant.  

Our anniversary was 36weeks6days.  We celebrated like any married couple ; )

It was great... until the flood gates cracked open a little.  I held off going to the hospital because i wasn't really sure it was my water...  

After spending all night changing towels and cleaning up,  Monday morning i was on my way to the hospital.  

I spent three hours waiting for the Dr.  She finally made it to my room to check my fluid.  There wasn't much fluid for her to test, but when she found some, it tested neg for amniotic fluid.  The computer showed i was having regular contractions so she did an ultra sound.  Everything was good, my fluid was actually a lot higher than necessary, i wasn't dilated,  and i was sent home.   Are you surprised?  I wasn't but i was frustrated.

That frustration only escalated as my "leaking" got stronger.  I couldn't stand up.  There was no point in getting dressed.  I was sitting in what, i had concluded, was the result of a failing bladder.

I spent a second night of changing towels and doing my best from making too much of a mess.  I was also fighting embarrassment.  Here i was, a grown adult, and the only answer was that i had lost complete control of my bladder.  But There was nothing i could do about it and i was not about to be embarrassed by something pregnancy was causing.

Tuesday rolled around and i was to the point of complete sanity loss.  I had an apt with my attorney (stupid landlord issues) and i was determined to make my apt.  When my husband made it home for lunch, he had other ideas.  Off to the hospital we went.. again.  I was determined that if i was going to spend another day in the hospital, i wasn't leaving with out some sort of answer.  So we waited. and waited.. and waited.  We had a different doctor but she eventually found time between deliveries to stop by our room.  She started with the same pattern as the previous doctor.  She was going to test the fluid.  She started out with the same issue... there wasn't any fluid for her to swab.  I was dialed to 1/2 but no fluid.... Until she was almost done.  She managed to get just a drip.  That drip was the solution.  It was amniotic fluid.  

I was being admitted.   55 hours with a broken water, in labor, and i was FINALLY being admitted.  It had began. 

I couldn't use the labor tub due to infection risk but they eventually got me set up.  

For those of you who don't know, 55 hours is a LONG time and super dangerous.  The longer a water is broke the higher risk of infection and they were watching me like a hawk.  

They got me started on pitocin to "induce" labor.  

A couple hours later:  I still wasn't feeling the contractions but i was dilating.. slowly, but surely.

A couple more hours and i had dialed to a 3 and i was starting to feel the contractions.  

They put in a catheter to check the contraction more accurately.  That catheter put me over the edge.  I was READY for an epidural.   There was no point in holding off if i couldn't do an underwater birth, contractions were only going to get worse, and i was dilating slowly enough that i was starting to picture a c-section. 

The worse part about the epidural:  Having to sit still during a contraction.

They did get the epidural in and it was amazing.  It was beautiful.  I should have gotten it before the catheter.  

We went back to waiting.  I finally hit the 4 cm dilation mark but my temperature was 104.2 and baby was starting to get wacky. 

At one point, i was half awake/half asleep, when the nurse came in to check and couldn't recognize baby's heart rate.  She called in other nurses, they had to all flip me over (i couldn't move due to the epidural) and i was panicking.  They turned the pitocin off, brought out an oxygen mask, called in another DR, and pulled out the ultrasound machine.  They stuck me a shot of who knows what and I had already hit full panic mode.  Patrick woke up and was doing everything in his power to keep me from passing out.  I still cry thinking about the fear in my veins.  Just as they were pulling in another bed, they found baby girl's heart beat.  

It wasn't long after that, i had been dilated to 4 for 4 hours.  I was no longer on the pitocin.  I had been in active labor for a total of 12 hours. The nurse was checking my contraction and i told her that if i didn't make progress soon i was going to have discuss a c-section with the Dr.  

Less than 5 min later, the nurse hadn't even left the room yet, and the Dr came in to tell me my temperature was concerning, baby was concerning, and she thought we needed to consider other routes because they really needed to get baby out.  Since i had just been talking about it, i of course agreed. 

Everything after that point was a blur.

Less than 5 min and the anestitian was in there going over processes.  Less than half an hour and Patrick was taken to a room to get scrubs on and i was being wheeled to surgery. 

I remember, at some point i was freaking out without patrick.  I cried because i was scared. I cried because i was excited.  I cried because i wanted my husband.

I was strapped to a table and a tent set up in front of me.

The anastian began pumping me with fluid.  Testing every couple min for feeling.

I heard the doctor call for the incision to be made and panic began to set in again.  Patrick wasn't in there yet and i could NOT do this without him.  They went to get him and it was utter relief to see him walk in. 

I cried.  Everyone asked if it hurt.  I explained i was excited.  I cried again.

I could feel them tugging.  I could feel my insides being moved around... all the advice people hand around, and NO ONE prepared me for the feeling of a c-section.  I could feel everything being moved around.  I could feel baby being pulled out. It was surreal.  Patrick was there talking me through it.

And then she coohed.  and i cried.  They took baby and Patrick to the warming table to get everything cut and cleaned.  

I was left cold and alone, with out baby, while they put everything back in and sewed me up.  The next few min were the loneliest moments of my entire life.  I wanted to see my baby.  I wanted to see my husband but i felt like everyone in the room had forgotten i was there, exposed on the hard table.

I realize this isn't exactly true as i had an entire team still working on putting me back together, but it's how i felt.  

My husband brought baby girl over to me for a moment before they took them up to the room and i was left even more alone as the sound of them left the room. 

Thank God the anestisian (still can't figure out how to spell that) was like an angel and knocked me out for the rest of it.  I don't remember the conversation or him doing it, but the next thing i remember is waking up in recovery confused and high.  I remember crying and laughing and though i can't remember what was said, i remember saying some really outlandish things to the guy taking my stats.  

Once i was coherent again, they took me up to the room where i could see my husband and baby.  I've never felt such a need for someone in my life as the moment i saw my husband and baby.  

I saw them and my world was complete.

That is the story of my pregnancy and Auna's birth (i'll conclude the hospital stay in the next post)

Loveheartsduh.