Tuesday, April 18, 2017

A Different Sort of Story


It started out a pretty typical Tuesday. Got up early and went with Jarod to do chores. Did some work with the cows before dinner and then went to drill alfalfa. The contractions that started after dinner weren't so unusual either. Coming only about twenty minutes apart, they were no different than the ones I'd been having the last several weeks, so I didn't pay them any attention.

 By three o'clock though, after about an hour in the tractor they were getting close enough that I thought to start timing them. About seven to ten minutes apart. Jarod had me get out of the tractor and sit in the pickup. He was ready to take off for the hospital right away, but my doctor told us not to come in until they were five minutes apart for at least an hour. So I waited and timed, and by five o'clock they were four to five minutes apart. Buzz the dog was in the pickup with me looking at me with these gigantic sad eyes that he has like "why are you whimpering like that?" So I called my doctor and told her the scenario. She said to go ahead and head home and get our stuff and then head to the hospital. So I called Jarod and we parked the tractor and I convinced him to go home before tearing off to the hospital. Most of our hospital bags were in the car already so we changed clothes and I grabbed a hair brush and we headed out. 
I called my mom on the way there and he called his aunt, so we had plenty of women panicking and wanting to follow us there but we held them off. It's an hour and a half drive to the hospital and it took us that long even though we were not going anywhere close to the speed limit. We got stuck behind some of those annoying people that drive 45mph in a 60 zone so that held us back. Jarod tried to make up for it in the open stretches, and I only tried to slow him up a couple times. Thank God we weren't driving at night because I would have been yelling at him that if he hit a deer with my Impala while speeding he would be the one needing a hospital.


We got to the hospital at seven and got admitted. It was rather strange. In the movies when a woman comes in during labor they all panic and rush her to a room. The lady who checked us in was the slowest, quietest little teenage looking gal I've ever met, and she just casually had me sign some paperwork and confirm my address and all this stuff that I had done ahead of time with the promise that when we came in we wouldn't have to do any of it again. Maybe I wasn't showing enough signs of hysteria. 
Finally all that rigamarole was done and they took us up to the second floor and I put on my little black hospital gown I'd bought and they started monitoring how close the contractions were and seeing if I was dilated. They gave me about 1 cm worth of dilation and five minute spaced contractions and informed me that labor was "favorable". 
They kept us there for two hours and the contractions got to be three minutes apart and harder. At nine o'clock the nurse checked me again and said that I hadn't dilated at all and that I really wasn't in labor so I needed to either get induced or just head home. They couldn't let me stay if I wasn't in labor. And then she stood there for our answer. 
So we finally got her to get out of the room and we called my mom. Me and Jarod didn't really want to get induced because we figured he would come when he was ready. My mom was pretty livid that the nurse said three minute contractions for almost five hours wasn't labor. If we had lived closer we might have went home but all we could picture was driving an hour and a half home and having my water break when I walked in the front door and having to drive all the way back in the middle of the night. We considered a hotel room, but it just seemed like the contractions and stuff were getting harder and closer and it made sense that we should be going into "active labor" any minute now, and paying for a room we weren't gonna use seemed silly. So we decided to go ahead and try to speed labor up a little bit so they would let us stay where nurses could at least help us if something did happen. So the nurse came back and we told her we'd be willing to try something to get me dilating faster. So she gave me a pill that was supposed to increase contractions so that I could dilate.

I really wasn't thrilled with that nurse. Don't get me wrong, she was friendly enough, and did answer our questions for the most part, but when you're in pain and trying to make life decisions that last thing you want to hear from your nurse is how much money she lost in Vegas a few months ago and how she made this and that for supper.

Once I had the pill I had to stay in bed for two hours straight which sucked, because contractions while laying down in bed hurt worse than any other kind. Jarod was a trooper the whole time and perfectly balanced out being sympathetic and matter of fact when he was telling me it was alright. After two hours in bed they let me up and I walked the halls and paced our room and bounced on a birthing ball. Anything to alleviate the pain some. The pill lasts four hours so at two in the morning they checked me again and I had only dilated to 1.5 cm. At which point I just wanted to die. Having massive contractions every two minutes for four hours and a lousy half centimeter is all you have to show for it seems like a colossal failure.
So they told me not to lay down and that they'd be back in the morning to check again. I convinced Jarod to try and get some sleep on the fold out bed, and I spent the rest of the night in and out of the jacuzzi tub, and bouncing on the birthing ball. You know it's the oddest feeling to wake up in a bathtub full of water and imagine how you could have slipped below the surface and drown in your sleep.

Morning time my doctor showed up in sneakers and hoodie, basically said hi and left. When my nurse came in to check for any progress I had a major contraction just as she was doing a cervix check (if you've never had one, they're one of the top five worst things on the planet). The pain was horrible and I started crying, at which point she got in my face, literally, and told me if I didn't pull it together I was never going to make it and it was uncalled for that I should be losing it like this and blah blah blah. Which I thought was uncalled for in and of itself, as I was not crying hysterically and raising a fit, just generic, that hurt me crying. (And still no progress baby wise, might I add)

Luckily though with daytime came the next shift of nurses and we got Karen. Karen was absolutely fantastic. First thing she did was give me some pain medicine that helped things enough that I was able to get a half hour nap which was much needed because I'd been awake for 24 hours at that point. After the nap my mom arrived at the hospital, which was the second best thing that happened that day, after getting Karen as a nurse. Karen had us walk laps around the halls, then showed me how to get on my hands and knees and Jarod and mom took turns pushing on my back when I had contractions. Got in the tub some more, did some stretches and such, walked all over.  She answered all of our questions and helped pass the time by talking about our and her farms.
All of that craziness finally got me to four centimeters dilated and we thought maybe we were getting somewhere finally. She gave me another round of pain medicine and had me take another nap. After dinner we decided to try some pitocin to get my contractions going again, because they'd slowed down after my nap. I'd only been on it for about five minutes when the baby's heart rate spiked from 132 to 180 beats per minute. It stayed up like that for a long time, which had them worried and they called a surgeon to come check things out, thinking they might have to do an emergency c section if his heart didn't level out again. The surgeon noticed that the babies head really wasn't pressing down on my cervix at all like he was supposed to be and said that might have something to do with why I was barely dilating. They decided to give me an IV and see if maybe me and baby weren't dehydrated and that's why he was showing signs of stress. It didn't take long after that for his heart rate to level out, so we held off on the c section and started pitocin again.
At this point I decided to get an epidural. I was exhausted and completely wrung out on pain. They gave it to me and immediately I couldn't feel anything. Like, nothing. Karen told me that my contractions were only one minute apart but I couldn't even feel when I was having one or not. I slept a long time like that and around nine in the evening they checked me again. I was still at the same four rotten centimeters so they asked what we wanted to do. Which was kind of silly, considering there really weren't any other options. We'd been in labor for thirty hours and next to no progress and had tried everything the doctors and nurses knew to try. So we started prepping for a c section. Which was scary, but I wasn't nearly as worried as I thought I'd be. Probably because I couldn't feel anything so what was the big deal?

Jarod's aunt had been with us that whole afternoon and she opted to stay in the waiting room, but Jarod told mom she had to come with us. They wheeled my bed down the hall and moved me to another bed. They hung a curtain between my head and my stomach and the nurse told me the surgeon was going to pinch my stomach and if I could feel anything to tell her and she'd up the pain medicine until we got to complete numbness before they started. So he was pinching me and I was telling him yes or no on pain and all the sudden he started really jerking around on my belly. I told him that I could feel something poking me but no one answered and all the sudden I though "if they do the same thing they did at the dentist I'm gonna..." cuz when I got my wisdom teeth pulled out, they gave me the numbing medicine and immediately started cutting them out before it kicked in and I felt the whole thing.
Well it was about that time that I felt my belly just drop and I heard a baby start crying. "That's it?" I demanded. The nurse told me she was gonna give me medicine that would make me feel weird and after that I remember next to nothing. There were flashes where I saw the lights or a nurse and for a split second Jarod was holding the baby next to me, and then I think we were going back down the hall and I was trying to ask if the baby was ok, and whether or not I was ok, because honestly my vision was so whacked I thought I might be dying. It was frustrating because I felt so tired I could literally barely talk and did a lot of moaning trying to make words. I wanted to see the baby so bad but I couldn't keep my eyes open at all, so I missed the "golden hour" where the baby is supposedly at his most alert stage.
Once I did finally wake up I was able to hold him and feed him and he lifted his head up by himself and I kid you not he smiled. Jarod absolutely adored him (still does) and couldn't stop saying how cute he was. And he is cute, let me tell ya. And he's still a very alert baby so I don't feel quite so miserable about missing him right at first.

After the c section Wednesday night they made us stay till Saturday. Our little guy was actually a whopping nine pounds and twenty one inches long. As it turns out I never would have had him because my pelvis and tailbone are put together in a way that a baby can't drop down to push on my cervix. So I'll have to always have c sections, but I guess if we know that ahead of time it won't be such a big deal. We named him Henry Boyd Wilson the third. After his great and great great grandpas on Jarod's side. They checked his blood and hearing and all those kinds of things and finally Saturday afternoon we got to go home. We had quite a few visitors show up to the hospital. My parents and sisters came right away the morning after he was born. Jarod's dad and step mom were back from Arizona so they came too. Jarod's friend who is dating my friend came with her, and another of my friends came by before her ultrasound to find out what she is having (psst! It's a boy too).

It's good to be home. We're both being lazy and trying to get some sleep and food when the urge suits us. He's a pretty content baby when he doesn't have a tummy ache. I could be biased but I'm pretty sure he's the cutest baby in the entire world. Can't decide for sure who he looks like yet. Both of us really. He's got incredibly hairy ears and a birthmark on his tummy, and he hates when his feet are uncovered so he constantly wears socks and has his legs wrapped up.  trade him for all the rice in China.
At night when he wakes up to eat I just look at him and marvel that God decided that this tiny human being needed me to be his mom and Jarod to be his dad. Out of all the people on the planet he needed us for parents and we needed him for a child. The way he curls up against me, and looks right up at me, completely trusting and content almost makes me want to cry (#raginghormones). That a human being could be so tiny, and yet so perfectly complete in that smallness and vulnerability is astounding, and to think that God put him together exactly the way he is, and that he has individual interest in this new life takes my breath away.

5 comments:

  1. How precious!!! I am so happy for you. :)

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  2. That sounds like such an ordeal, glad he was healthy and fine at the end though. Henry is absolutely adorable! I am so happy for you two.

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  3. Congratulations, Maddie! So glad everything worked out well in the end! Hope you're enjoying spending time with Henry; he sounds like a very amazing baby. :)

    https://teensliveforjesus.blogspot.ru/

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