Where do I start...
Remember, an eternity ago, I posted something about PMS, and how despite the fact that I have been menstruating for the last 20 years (almost), every month, I still can't figure out WHY in the WORLD am I in such a bad mood - until I get my period, and then, it's like, oooh! Duh.
So, between weeks 38 and 39 of pregnancy, I started experiencing feelings very very similar to those of PMS. I tend to be a little depressive anyway, but the "sad" of PMS is a very specific kind of "sad," it's like a puddle of gooey black molasses that you stepped into and can't get your feet out of... It's what started to come over me. Contrary to predictions, I was pretty even keel throughout, and this was definitely a change, and, of course, I was thinking, god, what is going on, why am I so sad and so pissed off.
It even occurred to me at the time. This feels like PMS. And (don't read if squeamish), as most women who suffer from this affliction know, with PMS, once you see that blood, it's an almost instant release of the emotional vise of the few days prior. Ahhh... like an audible sigh. So, I thought, maybe we're really close? And will this feeling go away once I get that first contraction?
Tuesday night was like that. In addition to dealing with insurance issues all day, I was independently neck deep in molasses even though I sat by the pool looking at the lake most of the afternoon. I also could not fall asleep and wandered the house like a ghost, drinking a glass of milk here, eating a granola bar there. I finally passed out towards morning, but woke up with a terrible cramp. I thought, this baby better stop abusing my bladder! But then, a similar cramp returned 8 minutes later, and again another 8 minutes after that. My 39 week appointment was that morning, but it dawned on me that perhaps these were contractions?
I went upstairs to wake up hubby and tell him that maybe we should head to the hospital instead. I sat down on the bed, and reached over to shake him by the shoulder, saying, honey, I am having some pain, maybe we should call the doctor... and right as I was saying that, there was a gush of warm water, and then another bigger gush... and what came out of my mouth was, "Oh my god, my water just broke!" That's the first thing my husband heard upon opening his eyes that morning.
What followed was probably the fastest and the slowest and the scariest and most exciting 10 hours of my life...
We drove to the hospital (gushing) through rush hour traffic, with contractions starting to get closer and closer together, and me getting nervouser and nervouser about popping the kid out by the side of the road on 95...
At the hospital, I was told I was 5 cm, and rushed to a delivery room to wait for the epidural. Contractions were coming and going, and i said to my husband, "These aren't so bad, you know?" Right as I said that, I got one so bad, it made me break out in a sweat, and I said, "Crap, I shouldn't have said anything..."
Epidural went in really easy, and aaahhhhh! I was pleasantly goofy and numb from the waist down, and free to chat and hang out. I gave one nurse advice about Irritable Bowel Syndrome, I asked another nurse for advice on names, we discussed the beauty of St Petersburg.
Doctor came, and told me I was 9.5 cm - only about 4 hours into the whole thing.
It was incredibly odd to have to have people turn me and prop me up on pillows, and to have to have assistance for everything...
Eventually, I was told I was ready to push. My husband took my hand. He looked pale after the first push, so I asked him if he's gonna pass out... With every push after that, I kept asking him if this was gross...
I started to notice that the nurse wasn't happy. Doctor was paged to come in, and there was a lot of whispering and quiet talking. I was told that occasionally, they need to get "special care" involved for the infant, and that I shouldn't worry, it's just a precaution.
The monitors were to my left, and I could see parts of the screen out of the corner of my eye; I tried to watch the numbers. I heard words like "brady," and "deep variables," and tried very hard to think back to OB/GYN in med school and remember which were the bad kind of decelerations...
Epidural wore off, but conractions at this point weren't painful, and pushing actually felt good, like I was doing something.
The clock was above my head and after each push I would tilt my head back and look at it and count how long I had been pushing.
Each time the doctor checked me, I asked, are we progressing? And I'd get mumbled answers.
Finally, the doctor said, "This baby needs to be born."
And I was told I would need a c section...
Honestly, I thought, wait, we're not going to try some more? I'm not tired, I can keep pushing, really, I can... IT's only been a few hours....
But the baby's heart rate had apparently been dropping into the 90s with each push, and even my husband could tell the staff was worried...
Tertbutaline was given, but contractions never stopped and because I couldn't pushed with them, they were once again painful.
They took me to the OR, and the anesthesiologist placed a spinal catheter.
The spinal anesthesia numbed my bottom half right away. Then, It sneakily diffused its way upward numbing my arms ribcage, and taking away my voice, and my ability to take a voluntary breath - still breathing with my diaphragm, but not the ribcage, the anesthesiologist informed me - and making me nauseous but unable to throw up effectively because of complete numbness...
Husband came in, took my hand again. Later he told me I looked white as a sheet, and he lost feeling in his legs himself seeing me in that way...
I was listening for cues, I heard, "Bladder," "retract"... suctioning noises...
And all of a sudden, I felt my husband literally levitate off his little seat, and cry out in a voice I've never heard: "OOOH... Ohhh...."
They held up a squirmy little bugger still attached to me with a cord......
Welcome to the world, little guy!
So, between weeks 38 and 39 of pregnancy, I started experiencing feelings very very similar to those of PMS. I tend to be a little depressive anyway, but the "sad" of PMS is a very specific kind of "sad," it's like a puddle of gooey black molasses that you stepped into and can't get your feet out of... It's what started to come over me. Contrary to predictions, I was pretty even keel throughout, and this was definitely a change, and, of course, I was thinking, god, what is going on, why am I so sad and so pissed off.
It even occurred to me at the time. This feels like PMS. And (don't read if squeamish), as most women who suffer from this affliction know, with PMS, once you see that blood, it's an almost instant release of the emotional vise of the few days prior. Ahhh... like an audible sigh. So, I thought, maybe we're really close? And will this feeling go away once I get that first contraction?
Tuesday night was like that. In addition to dealing with insurance issues all day, I was independently neck deep in molasses even though I sat by the pool looking at the lake most of the afternoon. I also could not fall asleep and wandered the house like a ghost, drinking a glass of milk here, eating a granola bar there. I finally passed out towards morning, but woke up with a terrible cramp. I thought, this baby better stop abusing my bladder! But then, a similar cramp returned 8 minutes later, and again another 8 minutes after that. My 39 week appointment was that morning, but it dawned on me that perhaps these were contractions?
I went upstairs to wake up hubby and tell him that maybe we should head to the hospital instead. I sat down on the bed, and reached over to shake him by the shoulder, saying, honey, I am having some pain, maybe we should call the doctor... and right as I was saying that, there was a gush of warm water, and then another bigger gush... and what came out of my mouth was, "Oh my god, my water just broke!" That's the first thing my husband heard upon opening his eyes that morning.
What followed was probably the fastest and the slowest and the scariest and most exciting 10 hours of my life...
We drove to the hospital (gushing) through rush hour traffic, with contractions starting to get closer and closer together, and me getting nervouser and nervouser about popping the kid out by the side of the road on 95...
At the hospital, I was told I was 5 cm, and rushed to a delivery room to wait for the epidural. Contractions were coming and going, and i said to my husband, "These aren't so bad, you know?" Right as I said that, I got one so bad, it made me break out in a sweat, and I said, "Crap, I shouldn't have said anything..."
Epidural went in really easy, and aaahhhhh! I was pleasantly goofy and numb from the waist down, and free to chat and hang out. I gave one nurse advice about Irritable Bowel Syndrome, I asked another nurse for advice on names, we discussed the beauty of St Petersburg.
Doctor came, and told me I was 9.5 cm - only about 4 hours into the whole thing.
It was incredibly odd to have to have people turn me and prop me up on pillows, and to have to have assistance for everything...
Eventually, I was told I was ready to push. My husband took my hand. He looked pale after the first push, so I asked him if he's gonna pass out... With every push after that, I kept asking him if this was gross...
I started to notice that the nurse wasn't happy. Doctor was paged to come in, and there was a lot of whispering and quiet talking. I was told that occasionally, they need to get "special care" involved for the infant, and that I shouldn't worry, it's just a precaution.
The monitors were to my left, and I could see parts of the screen out of the corner of my eye; I tried to watch the numbers. I heard words like "brady," and "deep variables," and tried very hard to think back to OB/GYN in med school and remember which were the bad kind of decelerations...
Epidural wore off, but conractions at this point weren't painful, and pushing actually felt good, like I was doing something.
The clock was above my head and after each push I would tilt my head back and look at it and count how long I had been pushing.
Each time the doctor checked me, I asked, are we progressing? And I'd get mumbled answers.
Finally, the doctor said, "This baby needs to be born."
And I was told I would need a c section...
Honestly, I thought, wait, we're not going to try some more? I'm not tired, I can keep pushing, really, I can... IT's only been a few hours....
But the baby's heart rate had apparently been dropping into the 90s with each push, and even my husband could tell the staff was worried...
Tertbutaline was given, but contractions never stopped and because I couldn't pushed with them, they were once again painful.
They took me to the OR, and the anesthesiologist placed a spinal catheter.
The spinal anesthesia numbed my bottom half right away. Then, It sneakily diffused its way upward numbing my arms ribcage, and taking away my voice, and my ability to take a voluntary breath - still breathing with my diaphragm, but not the ribcage, the anesthesiologist informed me - and making me nauseous but unable to throw up effectively because of complete numbness...
Husband came in, took my hand again. Later he told me I looked white as a sheet, and he lost feeling in his legs himself seeing me in that way...
I was listening for cues, I heard, "Bladder," "retract"... suctioning noises...
And all of a sudden, I felt my husband literally levitate off his little seat, and cry out in a voice I've never heard: "OOOH... Ohhh...."
They held up a squirmy little bugger still attached to me with a cord......
Welcome to the world, little guy!
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