Momma's take on the past week

Well, for the first time, I actually feel up to posting something.  I just was finally able to get up and move around untethered to any medical devices.  I even had the luxurious experience of my first shower in days.  I feel like a brand new woman!  My c-section recovery is going so much better this time than it did last time.  I'm very grateful for that because the idea of a rough recovery like my last c-section intermingled with my sweet (but oh so needy) two year old at home is quite daunting.  Hopefully, it won't be as tough as I'm imagining.

I find that today I am finally lucid enough to organize and reflect on my thoughts about the past week's events.  The following blog is simply an account of events as remembered by me.  It is as much for me as it is for blog followers because I want to remember for myself what this past crazy week has been like, and I want Jasper to know how very much we anticipated his arrival.

Beginning with Thursday, December 1st (when my little baby was supposed to arrive) the wait was agonizing. Every day I arrived to work, students and teachers would poke their heads in my room and say, "Oh, you're still here! Wasn't your due date on the first?"  They weren't meaning to frustrate me at all, but I have to say that a person can only hear that so many times in one day before wanting to break down.  Each day that passed left me more and more anxiously awaiting the day that I would meet my little baby.  Jason and I tried to continue on as normal.  We went out and cut down a Christmas tree (complete with bumpy horse-drawn carriage ride to the tree nursery and all), went Christmas shopping, went for walks around the neighborhood to look at Christmas lights, and so on.  We tried anything to keep our minds off the fact that this little baby (like Eli) just wanted to cook a little bit longer than "normal."

Beginning late Monday night, I began having sporadic contractions.  I was sure labor was about to begin full swing, so I called into school early Tuesday morning and said I wouldn't be in that day and probably wouldn't be back.  Jason and I took Eli to daycare that morning as contractions continued and then we went back home to finish preparations for the hospital.  Then, we waited...and waited...and waited for my contractions to grow stronger and closer together.  Instead, they did the opposite and went away all together!

Tuesday night was an utter disappointment, and I was actually considering heading back to work on Wednesday but decided that it would be better for my students (and for me) if I just called it quits.  I was 41 weeks pregnant and not in a place to be the best teacher anymore.  Jason decided to stay home with my on Wednesday too in case contractions began again, and sure enough, they did.  All day long on Wednesday I was having weak contractions every five to ten minutes or so.  We decided to make the best of the day and headed to Eau Claire to do some Christmas shopping, get some lunch, see a movie, and try to keep our minds off of things.  Again, things seemed to slow down for the day.  It wasn't until about 5:00 on Wednesday night that they returned and began to be stronger and closer together.  We were ready to have this baby.  We waited and labored at home (trying to sleep when we could) until about 3:00 in the morning when we decided it would be best to drop Eli off at daycare and make the 30 minute drive to Eau Claire.

Once we got to Sacred Heart, we had to head into the E.R..  Although we had already preregistered, the secretary couldn't find our information in the computer, so we had to register all over again.  There we were in the E.R. at 4:00 in the morning, me in the middle of full-blown contractions, and Jason anxiously doling out our information to the secretary.  When he had finally finished answering the myriad of the questions, the secretary hit a button and frowned.  She said, "I don't know what happened, but I lost all of your information.  It looks like we'll have to start over."  Yeah, I know, right?

So, aside from that initial experience, our Sacred Heart Hospital experience was great.  Our nurse, Anna Marie, took us to our room and got us all set up.  She checked me and I was still surprisingly at only 3 cm (the same as when I was checked earlier in the week).  Jason and I went on undaunted by the lack of change.  Jason went on (once again) to prove what a loving husband and supportive partner he is.  He never ceases to amaze me.  He was there with me in labor every step of the way ready to meet my needs before I even asked.  He seemed to know intuitively what to do and how to do it. 

Contractions were rough, but because this wasn't my first go-around, I feel like I was able to handle them better through breathing techniques.  When I began labor, I was again adamantly against any kind of pain intervention, but my contractions grew stronger than anything I had every felt before.  My midwife and nurses were even surprised at the length and intensity of my 3-minute-long contractions that continued for hours and hours.  I felt my mind and body both screaming at me for some help.  This time, unlike with Eli's birth, I decided to listen.  I first tried a narcotic to "take the edge off," but I quickly realized that it had almost no impact on my contractions.  That's when we called in the epidural.  I was hoping that it would work better this time than it had with Eli's birth, but we discovered that my anatomy must be such that an epidural doesn't work evenly on my body.  After getting the epidural, I was still feeling full-blown contractions on the entire right side of my body.  It wasn't until several adjustments and bolsters that I got a little bit of relief on both sides of my body.

At this point, I was finally mostly comfortable and so was the baby.  We waited for the pitocin to do its job because my body for some reason had stopped dialating at 7 cm.  We waited, and waited, and rested, and waited until my midwife, Amy, did one final check.  I was so certain that I was feeling pressure to get ready to push and that she would find me at 9 or 10 cm.  I was sure that I was going to get the natural v-bac that I wanted so badly.  I was shocked to hear her say that we hadn't progressed at all.  After laboring so hard for hours and hours, we had taken every step that could be taken.  I had been stuck at 7 cm for ten hours.  Amy said there was no other route to take.  Waiting for longer would most likely prove to be ineffective.  A c-section was the only route to go.  I broke down.

After months of planning for a v-bac and preparing my mind and body for the birth I knew I could have, I was told that it wouldn't happen this time (and most likely) would never happen.  My body is simply not built for childbirth in a way that allows for a natural birth.  This moment, again, is where my best friend and partner came to my rescue.  Jason proved to be the wonderful friend and partner that he's always been and helped comfort and calm me as the medical staff prepped for the surgery.  My wonderful, loving mother was also there to hold me in her arms as I mourned the loss of the birth I worked for and wanted so badly.

And, just like that, at about 12:30 am on December 9th, I was whisked away to the operating room, strapped down, numbed up.  The surgical staff did everything they could to calm and reassure me, but anyone who has ever been through a major surgery like this knows that there is nothing calm and reassuring about being operated on in this manner.  Jason sat by my head and held my hand as they began to operate.  After about 15 minutes of some of the strangest sensations I've ever felt in my life, the doctor said they were just about to get to the baby's head.  The surgeon squealed in delight as she said "Oh my goodness, this baby has a gigantic head!  If it's a boy, he'll probably be a line backer!"  As the baby's head emerged, she again squealed with delight as she said, "It's sticking its tongue out at me!" Sure enough, Jason peeked over the curtain, and there was our little baby sticking its tongue out at the doctor.  The anticipation in the room was building, not just amongst Jason and I, but amongst the whole staff as we waited to find out the real question...BOY?  GIRL?  I thought it was for sure going to be a boy (and had all along); Jason was sure it was going to be a girl.  After just another minute or two, we had the answer to our long-awaited question... "It's a boy!" the surgeon exclaimed and held our beautiful little baby boy over the curtain for us to see.  "And oh my goodness is he huge!" she said.

Jason went with the baby to the recovery room to weigh, clean, and test our little guy while my mom was allowed to come into the operating room and sit by my head as they finished the surgery.  She held my hand and comforted me as they completed the most uncomfortable and longest part of the surgery.  I was having a bad reaction to all of the narcotics and hormones and was shaking uncontrollably for the final 30 minutes as they stitched me up.  Finally, when all was said and done (at about 2:00 am) I was wheeled into the recovery room to meet and snuggle with my new little baby boy, Jasper John Nicholas.  I was told he was 9 pounds and 8 1/2 ounces and measured in at 20 1/2 inches long.  His APGAR scores were 9 and 9, and he was wonderfully healthy.

The first things I noticed as I held my new son skin-to skin were his full head of dark red-brown hair and his tiny little freckles around his eyes...I didn't know babies could have freckles like that!  At first, he reminded me so much of Eli, but as I gazed upon him longer, I noticed the little differences.  His longer fingers and toes, the fact that he doesn't have nearly as much chub as Eli did at first, his different chin...the little things.  He does, however, look a lot like his big brother.

It wasn't until nearly 4:00 am on Friday morning that we were situated into our new room.  We were exhausted.  We hadn't slept in almost 30 hours.  Jasper was sleeping soundly, so Jason made sure I was resting comfortably and then pulled out his cot to get some sleep.  I started snoring the moment his head hit the pillow.  For some reason, although I was so exhausted, I couldn't seem to sleep.  I laid there strapped to a catheter, blood pressure cuff, IV fluid drip, anti-blood clotting booties, and finger monitor wishing for some rest.  It's hard to sleep, though, when a nurse has to check on you and the baby every 30 minutes for the whole morning.  I slept for perhaps an hour or two that first "night." before giving up on sleeping and just zoned out and stared at my beautiful baby Jasper.

The first day at the hospital brought us several visitors.  Jason's parents came with Eli to help us introduce him to his new little brother.  He was so excited to meet Jasper, and was such a cutie all afternoon.  Later in the day, my mom came back to spend some time with us.  Also, Troy and Jenn came out with the triplets to meet the newest family member.  It was wonderful having the love and support of so many of our family members that first day as I was going through the toughest day of my recovery.

So, that finally brings me to today, Saturday the 10th of December.  I can't believe I finally made it to today when I have my beautiful little baby boy swaddled up and sleeping peacefully in my arms.  Jason is napping comfortably on my bed while I sit up for the first time in days on the couch.  I can't believe how long the past week has seemed.  It's funny when you think about how quickly some weeks can go by and then others can only be explained in a long-winded 16 paragraph blog.  That's why I wanted to get all of this recorded somewhere...so that I can remember how very much "life" can be fit into the course of just one week, and so that I can always remember the long journey that brought me my sweet new baby boy, Jasper.  I'm now the mother of two and so very blessed to have first Jason, then Eli, and now little Jasper in my life.  How incredible.