Well, it may come as a shock to all of you that know me well, but I have spent barely any time on the computer in the last 10 days! And, any time I try to write something meaningful, Miss Chloe will end up needing something or other. Or I'll get distracted just looking at her. ;-) It's easy to do.
So for those of you that weren't here, or haven't heard the whole birth story, here's what I remember of it, with some pictures of Miss C at the end.
Chloe's Birth Story:Wednesday morning (the 18th), we were scheduled to go in for our induction. The doctor had scheduled it a week in advance, due to the projected size of the baby (they thought she was over 9 lbs), and due to my gestational diabetes, which tends to accelerate the degradation of the placenta. Despite the fact that my blood sugar was very well controlled throughout the pregnancy, they were still thought she was going to be too big.
We had a “trial run” on Tuesday, and had hoped we would have the baby a day early. Unfortunately, as these things often go, we had no progress, and were sent home to wait until Wednesday morning.
Wednesday morning dawned, and of course, I had had no sleep. I was worried we would be delayed due to how busy the Labor & Delivery ward was, and I was so excited, of course sleep was impossible.
We got up and going, dropped Carol-Marie at school (the boys spent the night with Lane and Sara, since school starts later for them), and headed to the hospital. Of course, just because WE were excited and wanting to hurry, doesn’t mean the hospital was! We were shown to our L&D room, I got changed into a gown and settled in to wait for our nurse to begin the induction.
They got my IV put in, and started the pitocin, and my doc stopped by to do a check and see where I was. Once again? 2 Centimeters. I wanted to cry. I had made NO progress since the week before. *Sigh* But, the pitocin was started, and we settled in to wait.
Almost immediately, we had a hard time keeping track of the baby’s heartbeat. She kept moving just so, and the monitor couldn’t keep track of her. At the same time, the contraction monitor was barely registering the contractions I could feel were growing and growing.
As the morning progressed, the decision was made to break my water and use an internal heartbeat monitor to keep track of the baby, which obviously - we had to go ahead an do. Unfortunately, the problems with tracking my contractions continued.
An hour or so later, the nurse advised me that if I wanted an epidural, now was a good time, as the Anesthesiologist was near, and just had 2 patients in front of me. I agreed, as the contractions were reaching the point where I was at my limit. I was checked once again, and had progressed to 4 cm, but it still felt like a failure given how much pain I was in! I was sure I’d be past 5!
The epidural was not fun. There is no other way to put it. I stayed curled up against Zack while the Anesthesiologist pushed and pushed, and finally it was in. Zack informed me later that there was A LOT of blood. I am glad he didn’t tell me that at the time. I have a VERY deep bruise left from it. I don’t recall it hurting as much with Kelsey, or that major of a bruise, but I’m sure it’s not unusual.
Almost immediately, I had problems with the epi not working evenly. One side was more numb than the other, so they had me roll onto my side to try and get the medicine to more evenly distribute. While the pain decreasing was awesome, my ability to enjoy it was fairly short-lived. I could still feel contractions across my belly - not in a painful way, but the tightening/pressure feeling. The nurse was surprised by this, as I should have been feeling nothing.
I laid there and watched the baby’s heart beat and the contraction monitor, which was still registering almost nothing. Obviously, something was happening, as I could feel it, so the nurse put in a call to my OB to discuss putting in an internal contraction monitor. This would be a very important decision later.
At some point while we were going through this, Mom came up to the hospital. Well - Mom was becoming quite concerned as she watched the monitor showing my blood pressure. Apparently a drop in blood pressure is normal when you get an epidural, so initially my nurse was unconcerned. As my BP continued to tank, that changed.
They began administering doses of ephedrine, which should bring your BP back up to a normal range. (Yes, ephedrine - the diet stuff!) Well, three doses in, the ephedrine had had NO impact on my blood pressure, and my L&D nurses were starting to become concerned about the baby’s heart rate dipping at the end of each contraction.
The nurse did a test on me to see how far up and down the epidural was affecting me. One theory posited was that the epi had “crept up”, meaning gone higher than my breast bone, and that it was impacting my BP.
Around this time, my doctor showed up to do the internal contraction monitor. They placed the internal monitor for the contractions, and I was at 5-6 CM. Unfortunately, this is where everything kind of went to hell. This is somewhere in the 1:45 PM timeframe.
Mom and Kelsey had to leave the hospital to pick the boys up from school - assuming it would be a bit, and the would be back in time for baby. Wrong.
The baby “didn’t tolerate” the internal monitor, and her heartbeat immediately tanked. They checked me again, and all of the sudden I was at 9 CM (this is within minutes of the last check). They had me roll from one side to the other, to see if it would help bring baby’s heart rate back up, and nothing worked. Again, remember, all this time, MY BP is also crashing.
They got me up on my knees (no small feat with the epidural), to see if that would help decrease pressure on the cord or baby, or whatever the reason was for the baby’s heartbeat dropping. Nothing worked. They had me lay back down on my left side, and actually decided to have me start doing a few pushes in that position to see if we could go ahead and deliver.
Now, at this point from my perspective, I am struggling to even say conscious. At some point, someone decided putting oxygen on me would help, and I recall trying to gulp the oxygen to get as much in and help the baby as much as possible. All the while, I was struggling to get the air in, and my head started to cloud - I knew I was going down, and fast. The room was in chaos - I know Zack was there, but everyone else was just kind of a blur as they rushed around doing different things to try and get the situation back under control.
I don’t remember the decision ever being officially made. I do remember at one point being told my pulse oximeter registered 75%, baby’s heart rate was 38 (I saw that dip myself), and then all of the sudden, people were pulling cords and tubes from the walls, and pushing me out of the room on the bed, with all these cords and tubes around me.
We got into the surgical suite, and I remember helping get myself over to the gurney for the surgery. I didn’t want to lose it at that point, but everything was spinning, it was happening so fast. I knew they were going to tie my arms down, so I stayed calm as they did it, and I remember feeling them washing my belly to prep for the surgery. The next thing I remember is the anesthesiologist in my face, telling me he was going to be right there with me the whole time, and everything was going to be fine. He put a mask over my face, and my memory stops there.
While I was out, they made the incision and pulled the baby out. I am told she was screaming before she was even out. From what one of the nurses old us later, it was likely that scream that saved her life. Their first breath fixes any respiratory acidosis they are in, so her taking it before she was even out all the way was amazing. (This is with no suction, nothing.) They got her out and cleaned her up - and sent her off to the nursery with Zack, who had been not so patiently waiting outside the surgical suite (tap dancing, from what he told me later!).
They stitched me up, and sent me to the recovery area, where I’m told I was for about 30-45 minutes before I was aware of what was going on. The funny thing is, and I have no memory of this, but apparently they wheeled me out on the gurney from the surgical suite, and told me they were going to move me from the gurney to the hospital bed. Well I guess I wasn’t into waiting, because I got up and moved myself. Um. To the wrong bed. And when they told me that, I went to the other one! LOL. Mind you - I am OUT, and my epidural WAS NOT worn off!!! The nurse said she had NEVER seen anybody do that!
My first thought on waking was whether or not the baby was ok. They assured me she was, and that her daddy was with her in the nursery, and that he hadn’t left her side. I asked that they tell him I was ok, so they sent a nurse off to tell him I was awake. They also told me the baby’s APGARs were 8, 8, and 9 - phenomenal for a baby who had been in such severe distress.
They cheated a little on the time (I was supposed to have to wait an hour), and they let Zack come into the recovery area with the baby so I could see her. It was the most amazing moment - I honestly had been so afraid we weren't both going to make it.
OH - at some point after the decision was made to do the c/s, Zack had texted my mom and Kelsey to get back there - that an emergency c-section was happening. To say they were upset at all that happening while they were gone is a gross understatement. But, they had made it back up to the hospital, and Ren had gotten there with Skie and Carol-Marie. SO - the whole family was there waiting for me to come out of recovery.
As they wheeled me out of the surgical recovery area and into my room, I saw my mom and Kelsey standing in the reception area. I waved at them, to try and let Kelsey know I was ok, but she was so upset, she barely saw me waving at her.
We got into our room and Zack and I had a little time alone with the baby to try and start her nursing. After maybe another half hour to an hour, we were finally able to visit with everyone. I admit, I would have liked a little more alone time, just to hold my baby. I still haven’t reached the point of feeling that she is safe. Everything still makes me jumpy about losing her.
Sadly, my fear was repeatedly confirmed as justified. My doctor, the morning after she was delivered, told me that they had examined the cord blood after she was taken out, and literally, we are incredibly lucky we have a baby. Even a minute more, and she may not have been here. Several of our nurses over the next few days said the same - that they had seen our “strip”, and that it was CRAZY - that we are SO lucky we have a baby. The time “from decision to incision” was 10 minutes - apparently quite an unusual thing, and all the nurses were talking about it.
Zack did come up with a name for the baby when I was in recovery, but I admit, I vetoed it. We settled on Chloe - a name I have always loved (And no, not based on the character on 24, which I have never watched!). I would write about how amazing and beautiful she is, but since I’m her mother, you won’t believe me
But she is - very amazing and beautiful. She is very “aware”.
I left the hospital on Saturday (the 21st), but to say I feel like hell is putting it mildly. My incision is healing well, but I’m still VERY sore, and good lord am I swollen. My feet look like overstuffed sausages.
Breastfeeding is going very well so far, and we’re settling into our routine. Her room is ready for her, but I admit, I can’t stand to have her that far away from me.
I’m still nervous, relearning how to do all those infant things, like baths and such. The sleep deprivation isn’t getting to me too much so far, but I will admit to having had a really awful headaches. And...I've been more than a little weepy. (Poor Zack.)
The kids are adjusting well all in all. The kids love to hold her and just stare at her. Zack and I took her for her first well-baby check up yesterday, and she's doing pretty well. Despite 3 dirty diapers WHILE WE WERE THERE, she weighed in at 7 lbs 10 oz, 3 oz off her birth weight. She's in the 95th percentile for height, 50th percentile for weight, and 75th percentile for head circumference. So, she's likely to be tall, lean, without a big head! LOL. Supermodel, perhaps?
Here are some pics from this week.
Chloe at one week old, with Daddy:
Another one week old pic, with yummy fingers:
"HEY EVERYBODY! I'm ONE WEEK OLD! (and my mommy takes blurry pics)"
Chloe Elizabeth Sage, 2 days old:
One day old, being held by Great-Grandma Jean:
On Chloe's birth day, with Grandma Gayle and Grandma Judi:
Chloe and Kelsey, on Chloe's birth day:
Anyway -so that’s Chloe’s birth story. I’m sure Zack will add whatever I left out, but at least now it's all written down!
