Jeff and I are very happy to announce that Mirabella is going to be a big sister! Yes, we are expecting...again! "What? So soon?" you ask. Uh-huh. Since we believe this is the way things were meant to be for us, this was no accident, but we did not plan for the quick turnaround! Still, we couldn’t be more thrilled about the news of our upcoming arrival. It will definitely be busy around our house having two babies in just over thirteen months (screeeech...yep, you read that correcly...two babies in thirteen months), but with all of you waiting on us hand and foot for oh, the next couple years or so, we know it’ll be a piece of cake. Thanks in advance!
And speaking of cake, we’ll be just about eating the last of it at Mirabella’s first birthday party and it’ll be time to celebrate a new miracle in our lives. Did I hear someone say Irish twins ? No, not quite, but close. Mirabella was born on March 1st, 2009 and this new baby’s due date is April 11th, 2010. After talking with my doctor, I'm fairly certain about having another c-section, so with it most likely being scheduled a week or so ahead of my due date, we’re looking at early April to begin our family of four.
After much anticipation, Jeff and I met with my doctor yesterday (Thursday, September 17th) for my first appointment with him. Jeff had made a quick bathroom stop when I was called in and my doctor, who I couldn't wait to see, greeted me with open arms and a big hug. I said, "Can you believe we're already back?" to which he replied, "Of course I can. When two people are in love, this is what happens!" Still, when Jeff came in, we all couldn't help but chuckle a little.
He talked with us briefly, trying to confirm my due date and then he said we were going to do an ultrasound. He did one early for us last time, but kind of snuck us in since usually at this appointment, you get to hear the heart beat, not see it. But we happily (and somewhat nervously for me) followed. He then told me he was going to do a vaginal ultrasound. Huh? This was such a new prospect for me, so right away I wondered if everything was OK. He started and turned the ultrasound screen more towards him as he looked, further triggering my curiosity. Finally he let us know that everything looked great and that he'd let us see momentarily. He proceeded to show us the beating heart. Ah, sigh of relief. We could already see our baby when he pointed out the head, arms and legs, or the beginnings of both at least. How amazing that we could see so much so soon!
We also received the confirmation that there was only one baby inside. We did wonder (my grandma was a twin). Later we realized that the vaginal ultrasound was most likely because my pregnancy was early on, he wanted to get an idea of the size of my baby to better confirm my due date and to see if there were multiples.
The three of us went back to the examination room and he spent a bunch of time talking about my delivery and the pros and cons of trying to deliver vaginally after my c-section (vbac) and the pros and cons of multiple c-sections. After the discussion, I was pretty much decided upon scheduling a c-section. Sure, there were risks to both, but not because of how close my babies would be, just because that's the nature of the game. Nothing alarmed me, and I was so glad for the reassurance.
My doctor further made us feel at ease when he explained that being able to hear the heart beat at this early stage made the chances of miscarriage highly unlikely, only a two percent chance. Whew. He also said that even though my pregnancies were very close together, there was no reason to suspect any complications. What a relief!
The appointment was fantastic and we couldn't have felt better walking out the door (before getting my flu shot...H1N1 shots come in two next month). It's fair to say, which I did to Jeff prior to getting on the elevator, that we're one of Dr. Chow's favorite couples. Actually, I asked him if he thought so and I know he wanted to say yes. Ha! Really, I'm sure I only feel that way because he's our favorite doctor and because he's so good, I'd guess he makes everyone feel that special. Needless to say, if anyone's looking for a good doctor, I have a glowing recommendation for you.
I'll be 11 weeks pregnant on Sunday. We'll keep you updated on all of the exciting, and much of the not-so-exciting news if you want to follow along with this blog. We'll still have our other one going, The Scene at Eight 19 , for more of the non-pregnancy going ons in our family (and probably some pregnancy tidbits too), but we'll just have to see how managing two blogs goes. For future reference, the link to that one can be found at the bottom of this blog's main page. Cheers to the next big thing in our lives!
Please see the previous post for far too many details about my pregnancy (finding out about this news, mostly) over the last several weeks.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Run it back
Three weeks ago today we found out (again through ept) that it would soon be time to resurrect the Bundle in the Oven blog! We were as shocked as you all reading this probably are. Below is the beginning of our story and we hope like with my pregnancy with Mirabella, you’ll want to follow along. We loved having you here! If I have to remind any of you from the last time, my posts are candid, so consider yourselves once again forewarned!
Still breast feeding full time, I was a little shocked when my first period after having Mirabella came on July 5th, at four months post-delivery. We do know how pregnancy happens, yes, but with my uninterrupted nursing and it taking nine months for a successful endeavor the first time, it was a big surprise when that first period became my last! When August 5th came and went, I still wasn’t alarmed being late since my thought was that it would probably take a while for my body to get back into a normal routine. So I went about my days as usual, but with each passing one, I couldn’t help but think about the what ifs, although those what ifs were planted deep in the back of my mind.
On Tuesday, August 4th I had a golf outing planned after work with my mom, my mother-in-law and one of her friends. The night before, I tried on my clothes to find them snug, less than flattering and very uncomfortable. These were clothes that fit me previously, even with my post-Mirabella body. I guess I suspected they may not fit when I felt the need to try them on the night before wearing them in the first place. Within that week, I seriously felt like I had put on at least five pounds, and pretty much just in my stomach. I had a swollen belly, and looking back on it, I truly think it started the day after we conceived! Now I know that sounds crazy, but I noticed it. I made a joke about it to my mom, saying something to the tune of pregnancy being responsible for this newly found weigh gain I didn’t think I was just imagining (really thinking it was only a joke at the time!). To this, my mom chuckled and replied with something like, “Your problem isn’t pregnancy I’m afraid. Your problem is F-O-O-D (spelled out just like that)!” Thanks a lot, mom! The weight drop that I could only attribute to nursing came to a screeching halt. Maybe my problem really was F-O-O-D, and if it was, I sheepishly would have to say that it wouldn’t surprise me. My body changed overnight. Really. It just took a couple weeks to confirm it in my own mind.
Then came our trip to Ohio for Jeff’s family reunion (Saturday, August 8th-Tuesday, August 11th) and a few things fueled my suspicious mind. I did some research on pregnancy and nursing and learned that many times the taste of the milk will change to the baby. Mirabella pooped five times in a 24 hour period that weekend. I’d feel sensitivity while nursing when I hadn’t for months, another symptom. Coincidences, I was sure. Or was I? The Monday of our trip when we took a road trip to visit Jeff’s uncle on the other side of the family, I had a touch of nausea that I couldn’t shake when we got off Rob’s boat for lunch. I’m not usually one to get sea sick, but maybe this was just a fluke. When we got home, with my mind constantly racing at this point, the time to test had come. Could it really be that I was pregnant again...already? Jeff was fairly certain I was getting somewhat anxious for nothing. I say anxious because neither of us were expecting what we were about to find out and at first, there were many things I felt needed to be worried about if indeed I was pregnant!
Timing for taking the test worked out better for us on Wednesday (Wednesday, August 12th). I say Wednesday worked out better than it did on the Tuesday we got back from Ohio, but Wednesday was not at all ideal when we had just enough time to take the test, process the results and talk for less than ten minutes before I’d have to be out the door for dinner with three of my best girlfriends. With my anxiety in high gear, I felt just like I did the last time we took the test. However, that time I was nervous the test would be negative when we were so hoping for a positive and this time, I was scared about what a positive result would mean for us. There were so many things to think (stress out) about if it was positive this time. Too many to be able to handle! Purely perception at that time, I know now.
The time was up. I asked Jeff to look first and with Mirabella in hand, he said we were going to look together, as a family. Aw, a family. I love our family. Before getting to the test, Jeff says, “Now, this could go a couple different ways. If you aren’t pregnant, are you going to be upset because that will mean you’ve just gained weight from eating and not working out, instead of from pregnancy?” Apparently he concurred with my mom’s way of thinking. How come hardly anyone accuses me of having a tapeworm anymore?
As the three of us walked over...as the two of us walked over and the third was carried...I forced Jeff to look first. Shock filled his eyes and through a slightly confused, nervous smile he said, “I think you better look at this.” “What do you mean? Is it positive?” I asked. He says he’s not completely sure and then I see it and it looks kind of different than last time with one of the lines more faint, but we’re both fairly sure that it means we’re doing it again and ready or not, here comes another bundle! “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I can’t believe I’m pregnant again! Oh my gosh?!” I’m sure I must have said that like a broken record. We climbed into our bed with Mirabella and in a daze talked to her about what we had just found out as if she understood. Even though we knew she didn’t know what was going on, she gave us a smile and amidst all of the questions, through that reassuring smile it seemed like we knew all was going to be just fine. Um, maybe that’s clearer now than it was then.
Our few minutes were up and it was time to hit the road to meet my girls. What am I going to say? How am I going to say it? Am I going to say it? Since these were three of my closest friends, I was pretty sure I was going to share the news, even though it was still so early. Kristin was there first and I think I made it five minutes before blurting it out. She was so happy! Surprised too, but more happy and admittedly a little jealous since we had just gone through our pregnancies together and after some time to think about it, she would have been glad to be in the shoes again too! Of course I would have loved that as well, so I fed her full of dirty martinis and encouraged her to sweet talk her husband into trying for baby number three that night. Haha! She helped to calm my racing thoughts and reminded me what a blessing this was. I knew so too, but I had so much fear. We always wanted another baby, but having one so soon did bring up true, unselfish concerns. The main one: could my body handle this pregnancy? I had a rough labor. My uterus tore and I was warned of a possible blood transfusion. It didn’t happen, but I had a c-section and having another one this soon from all indications wasn’t recommended. Was it safe? I didn’t know and I was kind of terrified of the prospect that it wouldn’t be.
Kristin suggested I order a fake martini before Leah and Missy arrived so I could collect my thoughts and make sure I was ready to keep sharing the news. At least I’d get my blue cheese stuffed olives, but drinking the water like it was vodka was almost enough to make my stomach churn. I may have lasted fifteen minutes before blabbing to Leah and Missy and the look on their faces was absolute and utter shock. Nothing else. Well, there was disbelief too. Leah didn’t believe me. Not for a second. Missy, sitting there pregnant about ready to give birth to her baby just over fourteen months from her first knew all too well this was entirely possibly, if not probable! Leah brought up my martini. “You’re having a martini! I don’t believe you!” she says. “It’s fake! It’s water! Try it!” I insisted. Even after she knew I wasn’t kidding, she couldn’t wrap her mind around what I was saying. Neither could I right then. I was still in shock too.
It wasn’t until my ride home that I fully allowed my worries to take over again. I had voiced my concerns to the girls, but it was almost like they hadn’t totally hit me. I hadn’t processed the news. Jeff and I hadn’t processed the news together. I called him on my way home and we talked about the girls’ reactions. Then something came over me and the tears came. I started bawling, letting my fears get the best of me. “How can my body do it again so soon? Where are we going to put the baby? There’s no place to put another baby right now (we have two bedrooms on our main level, ours and Mirabella's)! We’re just getting used to having Mirabella around; how is having another baby so soon going to affect her?” It was when I, barely audible, said, “I’m scared I’m going to die!” (meaning in childbirth) that he asked me to pull over. I can see why that may have been scary. I know now that I was overreacting, but at the time, my first real chance to voice my fears with my husband, those fears were my reality.
By the time I got home, I had calmed down. On the door to get into our house from our garage was a handwritten note from the love of my life. In that instant, my husband put to rest my apprehension, even if only for the short-term, with his words.
Dear Wife,
Today I love you more than ever. Tomorrow I will love you more than I do today. We may have had something crazy, scary and exciting thrown at us today, but there is nobody I'd rather share it with than you. I am so thankful for our wonderful life together and for our beautiful marriage.
All my love,
Jeff
I cried again reading it and typing it here. No, you can't have him! With Jeff and Mirabella by my side, it didn’t matter where the baby’s room would be. It didn’t matter if the baby lived in our room for six months. It didn’t matter if he or she would share a room with Mirabella after. And if we had to consider moving (gasp!), we would consider moving. We wouldn’t enjoy Mirabella’s remaining months of her life as an only child any less. She wouldn’t feel any less love. (In fact, we can see her and her new sibling being the best of friends because they will be so close in age. That’s our hope at least, and having this hope makes us even more happy now for the timing. Plus, she’ll be too young to feel any jealousy about the “new kid on campus”, and she won’t know her life any differently than the one she has with her partner.) And most importantly, I wasn’t going to die in childbirth! The chances were very slim and that was clearer now. All of these things became clearer, and after a day and a half from that Wednesday, my anxiety was really subsiding.
Thursday morning (Thursday, August 13th) came. The sun was shining as we brought Mirabella into our room and talked to her about the new baby coming. She appeared pleased.
I called my clinic later that morning. I spoke with two people and amidst all the questions I had, I started getting choked up right off the bat with the two women I talked to. I wanted my doctor. The protocol is to meet with the nurse practitioner to confirm the pregnancy first, but I wanted Dr. Chow. I needed him to tell me I was going to be OK. Fortunately I received that compassion on the phone that day, especially with the second woman I spoke with. She could tell I was crying and let me know everything was all right. She told me it happens more than I’d think and told me about her friend who gave birth to her first child one December 1st and on that child’s first birthday, she was in labor with her second. That part didn’t sound great, but what did sound great was just hearing about it happening and knowing that if it worked for her, the close timing would work for me too. Things would be good. I believed it. I was excited about it! That woman also reassured me that the nurse practitioner could put all my worries to rest and to feel comfortable meeting with her first and my doctor second. It was a familiar name, the nurse practioner's (I hadn’t had much time to forget names), so that helped. My appointment was set and I wished it could have been that very day, but I’d have to wait a week.
By the day after talking to the clinic, that Friday (Friday, August 14th), I could breathe easily. The prospect of already being into my pregnancy five and half weeks felt nice. The countdown was already on. I was excited for what was to come and there was a lot to look forward to. Sure, I still wished (and wish) we could get that addition on our house right now to add another bedroom by ours and Mirabella’s, but we were going to have another baby to love! What could be more special? What could be more right? My parents came over that night for a casual visit and somehow we started talking about the winning the lottery. My mom had asked if we’d won it, if we’d build on to our house, or move and somewhere along the way I let them know that we were definitely going to need more room. They both looked at me a bit clueless, and then I added that we’d need another bedroom sooner than we thought. “What? Are you pregnant?!” I guess my problem wasn’t just food after all, mom! Jeff and I had big smiles and happily announced that yes, I was pregnant! They were surprised, but smiling and so happy too! We had fun talking about all that was to come. Was it my mom that said, “What if you have twins this time (since it runs in my family)?” Yes, she did, but it was something that had already crossed our minds. Now that would be interesting. Three kids in thirteen months? Mama needs a drink.
Déjà vu and just like last year, our annual Crosslake trip with a bunch of our high school friends was right around the corner. This time we were leaving that next week, on Thursday (Thursday, August 20th), the day of our doctor appointment to confirm the pregnancy. It was too early for us to feel entirely comfortable publicizing the news, but there would again be too many suspicions about my lack of cocktailing if I didn’t, so our dilemma turned into what was inevitable. Besides, these were our close friends and if God forbid anything were to happen to end my pregnancy, these are the people I would want to support us anyway. It became an easy decision.
At the clinic that Thursday, we walked in and it felt like we had never left! The woman who came to get us to take my blood was a friendly, familiar face and greeted us with a big grin. She said she was happy to see us back and then told me about two of her three kids that were very close in age. She let me know honestly that she cried a lot in the beginning, because there were some trying times with two young kiddos, but assured me that things will be great. I believed that. We were having such a good time talking that somehow she pricked my finger and right after told me she wasn’t supposed to do that. It was supposed to come out of my arm! Hey, thanks! Nothing says fun like an unnecessary finger prick.
Before I even left the chair, she confirmed what we thought was the case. I was indeed pregnant and it was official! She walked me to my room where Jeff was waiting and congratulated him too. When the nurse practitioner came in, she also recognized us. This was all kind of funny! The stuff she said was familiar, as she knew it was, but we went through it just the same.
She asked what my normal weight was. As if I knew anymore! My norm wasn't what the scale showed, or at least it never was before I was pregnant the first time, but who knows now? It wouldn’t be out of the question to see that scale tip to 180 by the time this child is set to pop out! OK, for my sanity, let’s say it would. When your husband says, “Wow, you’d be giving me a run for my money if that were the case!” that’s when you have to just tell yourself that even if you do, pregnancy pounds don’t count. They just don’t. Besides, it was Jeff that told me to do whatever I did with Mirabella. Aside from the vitamins (three kinds that I never stopped taking: a multivitamin, folic acid and Expecta), the malts, Potbelly cookies, egg and cheese bagels and Chipotle obviously played a major role in how wonderfully Mirabella turned out. So I’m going back on each.
The nurse practitioner advised that I stop nursing. My milk supply would begin decreasing. I had also heard from a friend that nursing while pregnant increases the chance of miscarriage, although that was not personally confirmed to me. I didn’t fight the issue much. I would make it to my six month goal and I was proud of myself. I enjoyed many things about it, but I was starting to realize how nice it would be to be done with it too. Two kids, one out of the oven and one inside, feeding from me was quite a thought! I knew I’d be doing it that way for another few weeks, but I needed a break before my second round of nursing. Selfishly, I was kind of glad it was doctor’s orders, or nurse practitioner’s orders, to be exact. Based on my exam, she didn’t think my uterus was tracking any larger than usual, so the chances of twins weren’t so likely.
After our appointment, each of us went back to work until we would leave for up north in the afternoon. There was one stop to make before heading up. Jeff and I met at his parents’ house to drop a car off for them and my parents to use for the weekend while they were splitting grandparent time with Mirabella. We sat around talking for a little while when the conversation of Jeff’s cousin came up. We had heard the news previously; she was expecting her second child (the same due date as ours). Before we could say much more, Jeff spit out, “Well, we’re having a baby too!” Actually, I think he said that I was pregnant too, but whatever the exact phrase, they didn’t buy it! Not until we did some convincing and then the hugs came! Typical of what we had seen thus far, shock and surprise followed by happiness and excitement. Those same reactions came again when we told our friends in Crosslake. I’m not sure what made them happier, the fact that we were having a baby, or the fact that they were guaranteed a sober cab again, especially one so experienced like myself! Heehee.
So that’s how it all went down this time and now the nerves kick in. Not the nerves of being pregnant anymore (well probably some of that will come too), but the nerves of making sure our baby is healthy and that we can hear that tiny heart beat in a couple of weeks. We love you already, dear baby! We can’t wait for all the joy that you will bring to our lives, and we are so looking forward to you and Mirabella starting your lives together. We couldn’t be happier you came to us. Even though it was earlier than expected, we know your timing is perfect.
Many people said that after writing Bundle in the Oven the first time, I’d probably never be so detailed for a second pregnancy. I’m sure going to try, and I hope it’s not just repeating more of the same as on the first go around. This is a whole new miraculous experience, so thank you for wanting to follow along with us! As I said in the beginning, we love having you here. We love, love, love your comments too!
PS. My belly button has already started to pop out, at just over eight weeks pregnant! And I thought my stomach was enormous with Mirabella. Looks like I’m really in for it this time!
Still breast feeding full time, I was a little shocked when my first period after having Mirabella came on July 5th, at four months post-delivery. We do know how pregnancy happens, yes, but with my uninterrupted nursing and it taking nine months for a successful endeavor the first time, it was a big surprise when that first period became my last! When August 5th came and went, I still wasn’t alarmed being late since my thought was that it would probably take a while for my body to get back into a normal routine. So I went about my days as usual, but with each passing one, I couldn’t help but think about the what ifs, although those what ifs were planted deep in the back of my mind.
On Tuesday, August 4th I had a golf outing planned after work with my mom, my mother-in-law and one of her friends. The night before, I tried on my clothes to find them snug, less than flattering and very uncomfortable. These were clothes that fit me previously, even with my post-Mirabella body. I guess I suspected they may not fit when I felt the need to try them on the night before wearing them in the first place. Within that week, I seriously felt like I had put on at least five pounds, and pretty much just in my stomach. I had a swollen belly, and looking back on it, I truly think it started the day after we conceived! Now I know that sounds crazy, but I noticed it. I made a joke about it to my mom, saying something to the tune of pregnancy being responsible for this newly found weigh gain I didn’t think I was just imagining (really thinking it was only a joke at the time!). To this, my mom chuckled and replied with something like, “Your problem isn’t pregnancy I’m afraid. Your problem is F-O-O-D (spelled out just like that)!” Thanks a lot, mom! The weight drop that I could only attribute to nursing came to a screeching halt. Maybe my problem really was F-O-O-D, and if it was, I sheepishly would have to say that it wouldn’t surprise me. My body changed overnight. Really. It just took a couple weeks to confirm it in my own mind.
Then came our trip to Ohio for Jeff’s family reunion (Saturday, August 8th-Tuesday, August 11th) and a few things fueled my suspicious mind. I did some research on pregnancy and nursing and learned that many times the taste of the milk will change to the baby. Mirabella pooped five times in a 24 hour period that weekend. I’d feel sensitivity while nursing when I hadn’t for months, another symptom. Coincidences, I was sure. Or was I? The Monday of our trip when we took a road trip to visit Jeff’s uncle on the other side of the family, I had a touch of nausea that I couldn’t shake when we got off Rob’s boat for lunch. I’m not usually one to get sea sick, but maybe this was just a fluke. When we got home, with my mind constantly racing at this point, the time to test had come. Could it really be that I was pregnant again...already? Jeff was fairly certain I was getting somewhat anxious for nothing. I say anxious because neither of us were expecting what we were about to find out and at first, there were many things I felt needed to be worried about if indeed I was pregnant!
Timing for taking the test worked out better for us on Wednesday (Wednesday, August 12th). I say Wednesday worked out better than it did on the Tuesday we got back from Ohio, but Wednesday was not at all ideal when we had just enough time to take the test, process the results and talk for less than ten minutes before I’d have to be out the door for dinner with three of my best girlfriends. With my anxiety in high gear, I felt just like I did the last time we took the test. However, that time I was nervous the test would be negative when we were so hoping for a positive and this time, I was scared about what a positive result would mean for us. There were so many things to think (stress out) about if it was positive this time. Too many to be able to handle! Purely perception at that time, I know now.
The time was up. I asked Jeff to look first and with Mirabella in hand, he said we were going to look together, as a family. Aw, a family. I love our family. Before getting to the test, Jeff says, “Now, this could go a couple different ways. If you aren’t pregnant, are you going to be upset because that will mean you’ve just gained weight from eating and not working out, instead of from pregnancy?” Apparently he concurred with my mom’s way of thinking. How come hardly anyone accuses me of having a tapeworm anymore?
As the three of us walked over...as the two of us walked over and the third was carried...I forced Jeff to look first. Shock filled his eyes and through a slightly confused, nervous smile he said, “I think you better look at this.” “What do you mean? Is it positive?” I asked. He says he’s not completely sure and then I see it and it looks kind of different than last time with one of the lines more faint, but we’re both fairly sure that it means we’re doing it again and ready or not, here comes another bundle! “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I can’t believe I’m pregnant again! Oh my gosh?!” I’m sure I must have said that like a broken record. We climbed into our bed with Mirabella and in a daze talked to her about what we had just found out as if she understood. Even though we knew she didn’t know what was going on, she gave us a smile and amidst all of the questions, through that reassuring smile it seemed like we knew all was going to be just fine. Um, maybe that’s clearer now than it was then.
Our few minutes were up and it was time to hit the road to meet my girls. What am I going to say? How am I going to say it? Am I going to say it? Since these were three of my closest friends, I was pretty sure I was going to share the news, even though it was still so early. Kristin was there first and I think I made it five minutes before blurting it out. She was so happy! Surprised too, but more happy and admittedly a little jealous since we had just gone through our pregnancies together and after some time to think about it, she would have been glad to be in the shoes again too! Of course I would have loved that as well, so I fed her full of dirty martinis and encouraged her to sweet talk her husband into trying for baby number three that night. Haha! She helped to calm my racing thoughts and reminded me what a blessing this was. I knew so too, but I had so much fear. We always wanted another baby, but having one so soon did bring up true, unselfish concerns. The main one: could my body handle this pregnancy? I had a rough labor. My uterus tore and I was warned of a possible blood transfusion. It didn’t happen, but I had a c-section and having another one this soon from all indications wasn’t recommended. Was it safe? I didn’t know and I was kind of terrified of the prospect that it wouldn’t be.
Kristin suggested I order a fake martini before Leah and Missy arrived so I could collect my thoughts and make sure I was ready to keep sharing the news. At least I’d get my blue cheese stuffed olives, but drinking the water like it was vodka was almost enough to make my stomach churn. I may have lasted fifteen minutes before blabbing to Leah and Missy and the look on their faces was absolute and utter shock. Nothing else. Well, there was disbelief too. Leah didn’t believe me. Not for a second. Missy, sitting there pregnant about ready to give birth to her baby just over fourteen months from her first knew all too well this was entirely possibly, if not probable! Leah brought up my martini. “You’re having a martini! I don’t believe you!” she says. “It’s fake! It’s water! Try it!” I insisted. Even after she knew I wasn’t kidding, she couldn’t wrap her mind around what I was saying. Neither could I right then. I was still in shock too.
It wasn’t until my ride home that I fully allowed my worries to take over again. I had voiced my concerns to the girls, but it was almost like they hadn’t totally hit me. I hadn’t processed the news. Jeff and I hadn’t processed the news together. I called him on my way home and we talked about the girls’ reactions. Then something came over me and the tears came. I started bawling, letting my fears get the best of me. “How can my body do it again so soon? Where are we going to put the baby? There’s no place to put another baby right now (we have two bedrooms on our main level, ours and Mirabella's)! We’re just getting used to having Mirabella around; how is having another baby so soon going to affect her?” It was when I, barely audible, said, “I’m scared I’m going to die!” (meaning in childbirth) that he asked me to pull over. I can see why that may have been scary. I know now that I was overreacting, but at the time, my first real chance to voice my fears with my husband, those fears were my reality.
By the time I got home, I had calmed down. On the door to get into our house from our garage was a handwritten note from the love of my life. In that instant, my husband put to rest my apprehension, even if only for the short-term, with his words.
Dear Wife,
Today I love you more than ever. Tomorrow I will love you more than I do today. We may have had something crazy, scary and exciting thrown at us today, but there is nobody I'd rather share it with than you. I am so thankful for our wonderful life together and for our beautiful marriage.
All my love,
Jeff
I cried again reading it and typing it here. No, you can't have him! With Jeff and Mirabella by my side, it didn’t matter where the baby’s room would be. It didn’t matter if the baby lived in our room for six months. It didn’t matter if he or she would share a room with Mirabella after. And if we had to consider moving (gasp!), we would consider moving. We wouldn’t enjoy Mirabella’s remaining months of her life as an only child any less. She wouldn’t feel any less love. (In fact, we can see her and her new sibling being the best of friends because they will be so close in age. That’s our hope at least, and having this hope makes us even more happy now for the timing. Plus, she’ll be too young to feel any jealousy about the “new kid on campus”, and she won’t know her life any differently than the one she has with her partner.) And most importantly, I wasn’t going to die in childbirth! The chances were very slim and that was clearer now. All of these things became clearer, and after a day and a half from that Wednesday, my anxiety was really subsiding.
Thursday morning (Thursday, August 13th) came. The sun was shining as we brought Mirabella into our room and talked to her about the new baby coming. She appeared pleased.
I called my clinic later that morning. I spoke with two people and amidst all the questions I had, I started getting choked up right off the bat with the two women I talked to. I wanted my doctor. The protocol is to meet with the nurse practitioner to confirm the pregnancy first, but I wanted Dr. Chow. I needed him to tell me I was going to be OK. Fortunately I received that compassion on the phone that day, especially with the second woman I spoke with. She could tell I was crying and let me know everything was all right. She told me it happens more than I’d think and told me about her friend who gave birth to her first child one December 1st and on that child’s first birthday, she was in labor with her second. That part didn’t sound great, but what did sound great was just hearing about it happening and knowing that if it worked for her, the close timing would work for me too. Things would be good. I believed it. I was excited about it! That woman also reassured me that the nurse practitioner could put all my worries to rest and to feel comfortable meeting with her first and my doctor second. It was a familiar name, the nurse practioner's (I hadn’t had much time to forget names), so that helped. My appointment was set and I wished it could have been that very day, but I’d have to wait a week.
By the day after talking to the clinic, that Friday (Friday, August 14th), I could breathe easily. The prospect of already being into my pregnancy five and half weeks felt nice. The countdown was already on. I was excited for what was to come and there was a lot to look forward to. Sure, I still wished (and wish) we could get that addition on our house right now to add another bedroom by ours and Mirabella’s, but we were going to have another baby to love! What could be more special? What could be more right? My parents came over that night for a casual visit and somehow we started talking about the winning the lottery. My mom had asked if we’d won it, if we’d build on to our house, or move and somewhere along the way I let them know that we were definitely going to need more room. They both looked at me a bit clueless, and then I added that we’d need another bedroom sooner than we thought. “What? Are you pregnant?!” I guess my problem wasn’t just food after all, mom! Jeff and I had big smiles and happily announced that yes, I was pregnant! They were surprised, but smiling and so happy too! We had fun talking about all that was to come. Was it my mom that said, “What if you have twins this time (since it runs in my family)?” Yes, she did, but it was something that had already crossed our minds. Now that would be interesting. Three kids in thirteen months? Mama needs a drink.
Déjà vu and just like last year, our annual Crosslake trip with a bunch of our high school friends was right around the corner. This time we were leaving that next week, on Thursday (Thursday, August 20th), the day of our doctor appointment to confirm the pregnancy. It was too early for us to feel entirely comfortable publicizing the news, but there would again be too many suspicions about my lack of cocktailing if I didn’t, so our dilemma turned into what was inevitable. Besides, these were our close friends and if God forbid anything were to happen to end my pregnancy, these are the people I would want to support us anyway. It became an easy decision.
At the clinic that Thursday, we walked in and it felt like we had never left! The woman who came to get us to take my blood was a friendly, familiar face and greeted us with a big grin. She said she was happy to see us back and then told me about two of her three kids that were very close in age. She let me know honestly that she cried a lot in the beginning, because there were some trying times with two young kiddos, but assured me that things will be great. I believed that. We were having such a good time talking that somehow she pricked my finger and right after told me she wasn’t supposed to do that. It was supposed to come out of my arm! Hey, thanks! Nothing says fun like an unnecessary finger prick.
Before I even left the chair, she confirmed what we thought was the case. I was indeed pregnant and it was official! She walked me to my room where Jeff was waiting and congratulated him too. When the nurse practitioner came in, she also recognized us. This was all kind of funny! The stuff she said was familiar, as she knew it was, but we went through it just the same.
She asked what my normal weight was. As if I knew anymore! My norm wasn't what the scale showed, or at least it never was before I was pregnant the first time, but who knows now? It wouldn’t be out of the question to see that scale tip to 180 by the time this child is set to pop out! OK, for my sanity, let’s say it would. When your husband says, “Wow, you’d be giving me a run for my money if that were the case!” that’s when you have to just tell yourself that even if you do, pregnancy pounds don’t count. They just don’t. Besides, it was Jeff that told me to do whatever I did with Mirabella. Aside from the vitamins (three kinds that I never stopped taking: a multivitamin, folic acid and Expecta), the malts, Potbelly cookies, egg and cheese bagels and Chipotle obviously played a major role in how wonderfully Mirabella turned out. So I’m going back on each.
The nurse practitioner advised that I stop nursing. My milk supply would begin decreasing. I had also heard from a friend that nursing while pregnant increases the chance of miscarriage, although that was not personally confirmed to me. I didn’t fight the issue much. I would make it to my six month goal and I was proud of myself. I enjoyed many things about it, but I was starting to realize how nice it would be to be done with it too. Two kids, one out of the oven and one inside, feeding from me was quite a thought! I knew I’d be doing it that way for another few weeks, but I needed a break before my second round of nursing. Selfishly, I was kind of glad it was doctor’s orders, or nurse practitioner’s orders, to be exact. Based on my exam, she didn’t think my uterus was tracking any larger than usual, so the chances of twins weren’t so likely.
After our appointment, each of us went back to work until we would leave for up north in the afternoon. There was one stop to make before heading up. Jeff and I met at his parents’ house to drop a car off for them and my parents to use for the weekend while they were splitting grandparent time with Mirabella. We sat around talking for a little while when the conversation of Jeff’s cousin came up. We had heard the news previously; she was expecting her second child (the same due date as ours). Before we could say much more, Jeff spit out, “Well, we’re having a baby too!” Actually, I think he said that I was pregnant too, but whatever the exact phrase, they didn’t buy it! Not until we did some convincing and then the hugs came! Typical of what we had seen thus far, shock and surprise followed by happiness and excitement. Those same reactions came again when we told our friends in Crosslake. I’m not sure what made them happier, the fact that we were having a baby, or the fact that they were guaranteed a sober cab again, especially one so experienced like myself! Heehee.
So that’s how it all went down this time and now the nerves kick in. Not the nerves of being pregnant anymore (well probably some of that will come too), but the nerves of making sure our baby is healthy and that we can hear that tiny heart beat in a couple of weeks. We love you already, dear baby! We can’t wait for all the joy that you will bring to our lives, and we are so looking forward to you and Mirabella starting your lives together. We couldn’t be happier you came to us. Even though it was earlier than expected, we know your timing is perfect.
Many people said that after writing Bundle in the Oven the first time, I’d probably never be so detailed for a second pregnancy. I’m sure going to try, and I hope it’s not just repeating more of the same as on the first go around. This is a whole new miraculous experience, so thank you for wanting to follow along with us! As I said in the beginning, we love having you here. We love, love, love your comments too!
PS. My belly button has already started to pop out, at just over eight weeks pregnant! And I thought my stomach was enormous with Mirabella. Looks like I’m really in for it this time!
Friday, June 12, 2009
I didn't abandon the blog!
OK, wait. I did abandon this one. Sorry, I tried to inform everyone, but if I missed you, and if you've been missing us...good news! We have a new blog filled with all the details of our lives, especially Mirabella's.
Check us out at the scene at eight19.
Check us out at the scene at eight19.
Friday, March 13, 2009
The conclusion (one chapter closes...a new one begins)
Read the introduction and the body, the two previous posts, first...
After Mirabella was cleaned up, she and Jeff returned to me for another meeting, our official first meeting. It was like nothing I had ever felt. There she was, looking at me and it all felt like a dream. How thankful we were that she was healthy. After a short time, dad and daughter were taken away while the doctor finished taking care of mom. Jeff would get to introduce our daughter to the grandparents. He'd walk down to where they were anxiously awaiting some news and when he got there he announced, "This is Mirabella!" They were all so happy and excited.
I would wake up fifteen minutes later and my shakes were better, but still there. I was told they were going to give me something to calm them, so I asked if that was going to happen, but was told it did and I had just woken up from what they had given me. I was hoping for the shakes to stop, but they didn't. When I was ready to go to the recovery room, they continued the entire ride. I was covered in hot towels and although they felt nice, they didn't stop the shaking. It wasn't until what seemed like forever in the recovery area, when they gave me something else, that the shakes would finally cease and I was relieved. Jeff returned with our Mirabella. What joy. Our parents also returned, two at a time. They were exhausted, but Mirabella energized them. They left to get some sleep soon after.
At after 5:00 am on Sunday (Sunday, March 1st, the morning of Mirabella's birth), our family of three would arrive in the hospital room we would stay in until Thursday (Thursday, March 5th, Mirabella's original due date). After two hours of sleep, Jeff and I would start our Sunday. I was given antibiotics for a fever I had after delivery and would later be told I had lost a lot of blood which could require a blood transfusion (sounded frightening to me, but two days later I'd be told the need was gone). We were informed of Mirabella's jaundice, so she would require phototherapy (light) by the use of a biliblanket.
The hard part for Jeff and me was that all we wanted to do was hold her every second, but she would have to return to the lights as much as possible. We abided, as much as we could. :) By Tuesday, the news would be broken that she had lost 12% of her body weight, 10% is concerning, so this was not good. We would have to supplement my colostrum (and/or what was there of my breast milk), with formula which would be given in the nursery that night through a dropper or syringe so as not to introduce her to a bottle yet. The next morning I would be instructed on how to use a supplemental nursing system (SNS).
And here we thought this breastfeeding thing was a piece of cake with her latching on like a champ those first two days! It turns out, she just wasn't getting enough and we didn't know it. After a full day of my using the SNS, we would receive the best news: it was working and Mirabella's weight was down only 8% by Wednesday. Our nurse at that time informed us that when they are down so low in weight, the hope is that they don't drop any lower, but to see her gain such a huge amount in a such a short amount of time was beyond successful. My milk had started to come in by Wednesday and was fully in by the next day.
That Thursday morning we would also be told Mirabella had improved so much that we wouldn't need to take the biliblanket home with us, as we were warned could have been the case previously. Great news. She was healing, I was healing and it was time for us to go home. Finally! (And I have to ask---who ever said to bring clothes that fit you when you were about five months pregnant to go home in? Try nine months. Granted, I was retaining a ton of fluid, but no one prepared me for how huge my belly was still going to be. It was down from what it was, but still big. Was I a rare case? Ugh. Thank goodness it gets smaller every day, but man, those first couple days were very difficult on the self esteem!)
I only made Jeff pull over once on the car ride home to check and see if she was breathing. Mirabella's first public appearance was made at, of course, Chipotle. We enjoyed our lunch with her asleep. Poor girl probably didn't even get a sniff of the heavenly aroma in that place. In due time.
We were greeted by a stork holding pink balloons and a baby wrapped in a pink blanket in our yard when we arrived at home. Our neighbors are the best. I had a sneak peak since Jeff had stopped home during the week and surprised me with some photos when he came back to the hospital. I was so touched, and yes, the tears came. What a shocker that is these days. :)
We had so many visitors up to the hospital to meet our precious baby and to convey their congratulations to Jeff and me. Thank you to all of you and my apologies to our Sunday visitors for being a bit (or more than a bit) out of it as the day went on due to the pain meds combined with my sleep deprivation (and Jeff's too). The visitors have continued since we left the hospital too, almost daily, sometimes multiples per day. It's beautiful to see the introductions and everyone's reactions to her. Our time at home has been cherished and amidst the many new challenges, things get easier each day. Jeff returned to work for a half day the Friday after we came home (Friday, March 6th) and due to our appointments with a lactation consultant the following Monday and Mirabella's first doctor appointment on Tuesday (her doctor said she was perfect and she was already up to 7 pounds 9 ounces, two ounces more than when she was born, so she's been getting her share of grub...just like mama!), he worked half days on those days too before returning to more of a regular schedule by Wednesday.
I've adjusted very well to being home with her; I yearn for more time at home with her. I'm looking forward to being able to drive again since I was advised I needed to wait two weeks because of the c-section (and pain meds, which I am no longer on). Recovery has been good (slow, but good), but I cannot wait to get in my groove and begin to move like my old self again. My mantra with that, and with a new baby in the house has been, "Be patient. Stay calm. Be patient. Stay calm." So far, thankfully it's been working, helping at least. In case anyone was wondering since I haven't had a track record of being too good at it...I'm fabulous at changing dirty diapers now. A pro. Spit up? Fine. Have at it, baby. I was growing somewhat tired of hearing "it'll being different when it's your own" but yes, it's been the case. We love, love, love Mirabella more than any words could describe. We stare at her. Smile at her. Kiss her. Hold her. Talk to her. Cry (I cry...a lot). Happy tears knowing I have a daughter and she is here and I love her more than I thought possible. No, that's not necessarily true...I knew I would feel this.
I still haven't decided what to do about this blog. Even with an infant at home, it's tough to stay away. I can't lie: it's tough to find the time (between feedings) right now too. I'll just leave this post with saying, I know this won't be my last post. Thanks everyone for all of the congratulations, wishes, support, happiness and pure, incredible love we have received at this unbelievably joyous and surreal time in our lives.
Forever grateful continuously seems to be an understatement around the Jiovanazzo home.
After Mirabella was cleaned up, she and Jeff returned to me for another meeting, our official first meeting. It was like nothing I had ever felt. There she was, looking at me and it all felt like a dream. How thankful we were that she was healthy. After a short time, dad and daughter were taken away while the doctor finished taking care of mom. Jeff would get to introduce our daughter to the grandparents. He'd walk down to where they were anxiously awaiting some news and when he got there he announced, "This is Mirabella!" They were all so happy and excited.
I would wake up fifteen minutes later and my shakes were better, but still there. I was told they were going to give me something to calm them, so I asked if that was going to happen, but was told it did and I had just woken up from what they had given me. I was hoping for the shakes to stop, but they didn't. When I was ready to go to the recovery room, they continued the entire ride. I was covered in hot towels and although they felt nice, they didn't stop the shaking. It wasn't until what seemed like forever in the recovery area, when they gave me something else, that the shakes would finally cease and I was relieved. Jeff returned with our Mirabella. What joy. Our parents also returned, two at a time. They were exhausted, but Mirabella energized them. They left to get some sleep soon after.
At after 5:00 am on Sunday (Sunday, March 1st, the morning of Mirabella's birth), our family of three would arrive in the hospital room we would stay in until Thursday (Thursday, March 5th, Mirabella's original due date). After two hours of sleep, Jeff and I would start our Sunday. I was given antibiotics for a fever I had after delivery and would later be told I had lost a lot of blood which could require a blood transfusion (sounded frightening to me, but two days later I'd be told the need was gone). We were informed of Mirabella's jaundice, so she would require phototherapy (light) by the use of a biliblanket. 
The hard part for Jeff and me was that all we wanted to do was hold her every second, but she would have to return to the lights as much as possible. We abided, as much as we could. :) By Tuesday, the news would be broken that she had lost 12% of her body weight, 10% is concerning, so this was not good. We would have to supplement my colostrum (and/or what was there of my breast milk), with formula which would be given in the nursery that night through a dropper or syringe so as not to introduce her to a bottle yet. The next morning I would be instructed on how to use a supplemental nursing system (SNS).
And here we thought this breastfeeding thing was a piece of cake with her latching on like a champ those first two days! It turns out, she just wasn't getting enough and we didn't know it. After a full day of my using the SNS, we would receive the best news: it was working and Mirabella's weight was down only 8% by Wednesday. Our nurse at that time informed us that when they are down so low in weight, the hope is that they don't drop any lower, but to see her gain such a huge amount in a such a short amount of time was beyond successful. My milk had started to come in by Wednesday and was fully in by the next day.
That Thursday morning we would also be told Mirabella had improved so much that we wouldn't need to take the biliblanket home with us, as we were warned could have been the case previously. Great news. She was healing, I was healing and it was time for us to go home. Finally! (And I have to ask---who ever said to bring clothes that fit you when you were about five months pregnant to go home in? Try nine months. Granted, I was retaining a ton of fluid, but no one prepared me for how huge my belly was still going to be. It was down from what it was, but still big. Was I a rare case? Ugh. Thank goodness it gets smaller every day, but man, those first couple days were very difficult on the self esteem!)
I only made Jeff pull over once on the car ride home to check and see if she was breathing. Mirabella's first public appearance was made at, of course, Chipotle. We enjoyed our lunch with her asleep. Poor girl probably didn't even get a sniff of the heavenly aroma in that place. In due time.
We were greeted by a stork holding pink balloons and a baby wrapped in a pink blanket in our yard when we arrived at home. Our neighbors are the best. I had a sneak peak since Jeff had stopped home during the week and surprised me with some photos when he came back to the hospital. I was so touched, and yes, the tears came. What a shocker that is these days. :)
We had so many visitors up to the hospital to meet our precious baby and to convey their congratulations to Jeff and me. Thank you to all of you and my apologies to our Sunday visitors for being a bit (or more than a bit) out of it as the day went on due to the pain meds combined with my sleep deprivation (and Jeff's too). The visitors have continued since we left the hospital too, almost daily, sometimes multiples per day. It's beautiful to see the introductions and everyone's reactions to her. Our time at home has been cherished and amidst the many new challenges, things get easier each day. Jeff returned to work for a half day the Friday after we came home (Friday, March 6th) and due to our appointments with a lactation consultant the following Monday and Mirabella's first doctor appointment on Tuesday (her doctor said she was perfect and she was already up to 7 pounds 9 ounces, two ounces more than when she was born, so she's been getting her share of grub...just like mama!), he worked half days on those days too before returning to more of a regular schedule by Wednesday.
I've adjusted very well to being home with her; I yearn for more time at home with her. I'm looking forward to being able to drive again since I was advised I needed to wait two weeks because of the c-section (and pain meds, which I am no longer on). Recovery has been good (slow, but good), but I cannot wait to get in my groove and begin to move like my old self again. My mantra with that, and with a new baby in the house has been, "Be patient. Stay calm. Be patient. Stay calm." So far, thankfully it's been working, helping at least. In case anyone was wondering since I haven't had a track record of being too good at it...I'm fabulous at changing dirty diapers now. A pro. Spit up? Fine. Have at it, baby. I was growing somewhat tired of hearing "it'll being different when it's your own" but yes, it's been the case. We love, love, love Mirabella more than any words could describe. We stare at her. Smile at her. Kiss her. Hold her. Talk to her. Cry (I cry...a lot). Happy tears knowing I have a daughter and she is here and I love her more than I thought possible. No, that's not necessarily true...I knew I would feel this.
I still haven't decided what to do about this blog. Even with an infant at home, it's tough to stay away. I can't lie: it's tough to find the time (between feedings) right now too. I'll just leave this post with saying, I know this won't be my last post. Thanks everyone for all of the congratulations, wishes, support, happiness and pure, incredible love we have received at this unbelievably joyous and surreal time in our lives.
Forever grateful continuously seems to be an understatement around the Jiovanazzo home.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The body (the road to meeting Mirabella)
This post contains graphic pictures
Read the introduction, the previous post, first...
Now at the hospital at 8:30 am on Saturday (Saturday, February 28th), we made our way to the sixth floor and to the maternal assessment center at Abbott. I got in a hospital gown and was hooked up to a machine that measured my contractions and the baby's heartbeat. Just seeing the screen flash with that heartbeat was worth going in. I needed that reassurance. It came time to do a test to see if my water had broken, which required just swabbing me with a long Q-tip like thingy. I was warned that because of the blood, the chances of a false positive were likely. That's exactly what we got. So, it was time for the triage nurse to do a pelvic exam to check and see if my cervix was dilated and to what extent. I swear, she had her arm elbow deep inside of me and it was terrible! After all that, she couldn't reach my cervix so it was time to call my doc away from what he was doing and have him try.
Instantly I was calmed as I saw Dr. Chow enter the room. I love my doctor. As he edged his hand inside, the discomfort was almost intolerable and as I felt like I couldn't take it anymore, the pain subsided and he removed his hand. He explained that there was a block and once he broke through it, I was completely effaced. He asked if I wanted an epidural and I said, "Yes, eventually I think." He said, "No, do you want an epidural, because if you do, now is the time." I was scared and shocked and elated! He continued with, "You did a lot of work at home. You're dilated to almost a five (I was fully closed just a few short days before). Let's get you admitted, you're going to have a baby today!" Wow. We were relieved to be staying. We called our parents and both sets arrived shortly thereafter.
The plan would be for me to get situated in a room (the room I would deliver in), my water bag would be broken and I'd get my epidural. They may administer some Pitocin to speed up my contractions too. I was told that once my water bag was broken and the Pitocin was given, the contractions were going to get really intense. I wasn't totally prepared for the intensity and I was miserable for a while. A long while. My epidural would come late.
My doctor and the nurse made a mess of my bed by breaking my water bag (I was nervous about it hurting, but it didn't; it just felt like a pool of hot water coming out of me) soon after I got settled there. Thinking the epidural was within minutes, Pitocin was given. I waited anxiously for the epidural. And waited. And waited. The contractions were almost unbearable. The pain in my rectum was something no one told me about and with each contraction, I felt like a baby may come out of my rear! The baby was putting a ton of pressure on me there. That was the worst part. My nurse would apologize that it was taking so long for the epidural, ensuring that this was not common...as if I cared what was common or uncommon at that point, I just needed some drugs! It was so busy that day. My doctor was already set to deliver six babies that day alone and we'd be the seventh. My nurse, Barb, who was wonderful, suggested that maybe I'd want some other type of drug through my IV to relieve some pain, Nubain, until the anesthesiologist could get there. I didn't want it, but I really wanted it too. I succumbed and she came with the needle and I chickened out...I braved it out (pat, pat on the back :)) and decided if the anesthesiologist was going to be there sooner rather than later, I could wait. I was proud of myself, and confirmed my stupidity when the next contraction came.
After way too long, the anesthesiologist came and I was more than ready. It was a lot less scary than I thought. The hardest part was staying still while I contracted with him having a needle in my back. It was about 1:30 pm when it was in place. I was told within 10-15 minutes it would start working. At fifteen I could tell my contractions were getting less intense and in a half hour, I was smiling again. Our parents returned to the room and I felt better because I could speak again. Ahh...epidural. Could this also be the miracle of birth?
A new nurse, Rochelle, replaced Barb and she was just as wonderful, if not even more so. Now it was time to wait for my cervix to dilate. I was at a five now and needed to be at a ten to start pushing. I waited. Jeff waited. Our parents waited. It was slow. The Pitocin was turned up. Several hours passed. I was dilated to a six when my doctor thought I should have been further, so he said we'd wait another couple hours after turning up the Pitocin again and we'd hope for me to dilated to an eight. When he returned, I was! When he left the room, he said we'd hope for me to be dilated to a ten, a couple hours later, by 10:00 pm and it would be time for me to start pushing. Whoa...crazy! When he returned, low and behold, I was dilated to a ten and it was time! Finally, it was time.
At 10:30 on Saturday night (Saturday, February 28th), I began trying to push my baby out. I was given the instructions to take a deep breath in when I felt a contraction, Jeff would hold one leg up and the nurse would hold the other. I would push for ten seconds, breathe, push for ten seconds, breath, push for ten seconds and relax. Sounded simple enough to me. Within two rounds, I distinctly felt the baby's head way down in my birth canal. The doctor pulled Jeff around to look and he could see part of the baby's head and we found out our baby had hair. I felt like this was going to go quickly if the baby was already there. I was wrong. The baby was sunny side up (head down, face up) when he or she should have been head down, face down. An hour into it, Rochelle's shift would end and I really started to lose steam. At this point, I was 41 1/2 hours without sleep; my energy level was lacking. My doctor had managed to turn the baby to the correct position at this halfway point, but still, there was no further movement. I stared at the clock on the wall directly in front of me and I watched the last day in February turn to the first day in March. I pushed...and pushed...and pushed.
At 12:30 am on Sunday (Sunday, March 1st, 2009---what would come to be known as our baby's birth date), I had approached the two hour mark for pushing. At that time, my doctor decided we needed to explore other options. There were some guidelines and after two hours of pushing with an epidural, it was time to make some decisions. There were four options: continue pushing, but for only a short time, use the vacuum and still deliver vaginally, use the forceps and still deliver vaginally or c-section. Right away my doctor took the vacuum option off the table and with my lack of sleep, gently swayed me not to continue pushing any longer, although he would have let me had I really wanted to. I was exhausted. No more pushing, unless the forceps was going to be used. We talked with him for a while about the forceps and c-section options and then he left the room so Jeff and I could weigh the two. We went back and forth, back and forth. We had almost decided on using the forceps and just before the doctor came in, changed to the c-section option. Our baby was stuck in my birth canal; he or she had been through enough and it was time to do what we thought was the best thing for him or her. I second-guessed every part of our decision, but I would have done that no matter what we had decided. At a little after 1:00 am, it was decided that I was going into surgery and my doctor left to start preparations. Jeff got dressed in his scrubs and after, they wheeled me out of the room and into the operating room. It was 1:25 am.
Jeff would wait in a waiting area outside the room while I was prepped. There were so many people in the room there to help me and the need to thank them came over me. All of these people would make sure my baby and I got through this safely. Within minutes of being in the O.R., I began to shake uncontrollably. It was scary, but my two anaesthesiologists assured me I was OK and that this happens sometimes. Still, I hated it because of how out of control I felt. Once preparations were set, it was time to begin and my doctor said, "Where's Jeff? Why isn't Jeff here? Someone bring Jeff in!" I was wondering myself where he was and then he appeared. Still shaking, I tried to reassure him that all was fine and that they said it was normal. He described it later as it looked like I was convulsing; that's how it felt to me too.
The process began. I could feel tugging, but no pain. I was so anxious and excited to meet our baby after all this time! I kept asking Jeff through my chattering teeth and shaky voice, "Can you see? Do you know if its a boy or a girl?" He couldn't and didn't know yet and then they said for us to get ready...the head was coming...and there it was outside of me. I couldn't see a thing with the curtain up, but I felt it leave my body. I relied on Jeff for the play by play. He still didn't know, boy or girl. Then the doctor said, "It looks like a boy's head to me!"
Since I thought we were having a boy, a smile came across my face, but I wasn't shocked. I was just waiting there to meet him. Then I was told I'd feel a lot of pressure, like nothing I had ever felt. I felt pressure again, not pain, and I could feel the body pulled from inside of me. I heard gasps from the staff, not scary ones, but happy, surprised ones as I asked Jeff and found out, "It's a girl!" It was 2:20 am.
I could feel my smile from ear to ear and my eyes get bigger with surprise; I just could not believe that we had a girl. The doctor held her over the curtain and there my baby girl was! She was coated in blood, but so beautiful. Jeff and the nurses moved to the left of me as they cleaned her up. I could see them through my shakes, and was so eager for them to come back to me. At last, our precious little girl had arrived...
Read the introduction, the previous post, first...
Now at the hospital at 8:30 am on Saturday (Saturday, February 28th), we made our way to the sixth floor and to the maternal assessment center at Abbott. I got in a hospital gown and was hooked up to a machine that measured my contractions and the baby's heartbeat. Just seeing the screen flash with that heartbeat was worth going in. I needed that reassurance. It came time to do a test to see if my water had broken, which required just swabbing me with a long Q-tip like thingy. I was warned that because of the blood, the chances of a false positive were likely. That's exactly what we got. So, it was time for the triage nurse to do a pelvic exam to check and see if my cervix was dilated and to what extent. I swear, she had her arm elbow deep inside of me and it was terrible! After all that, she couldn't reach my cervix so it was time to call my doc away from what he was doing and have him try.
Instantly I was calmed as I saw Dr. Chow enter the room. I love my doctor. As he edged his hand inside, the discomfort was almost intolerable and as I felt like I couldn't take it anymore, the pain subsided and he removed his hand. He explained that there was a block and once he broke through it, I was completely effaced. He asked if I wanted an epidural and I said, "Yes, eventually I think." He said, "No, do you want an epidural, because if you do, now is the time." I was scared and shocked and elated! He continued with, "You did a lot of work at home. You're dilated to almost a five (I was fully closed just a few short days before). Let's get you admitted, you're going to have a baby today!" Wow. We were relieved to be staying. We called our parents and both sets arrived shortly thereafter.
The plan would be for me to get situated in a room (the room I would deliver in), my water bag would be broken and I'd get my epidural. They may administer some Pitocin to speed up my contractions too. I was told that once my water bag was broken and the Pitocin was given, the contractions were going to get really intense. I wasn't totally prepared for the intensity and I was miserable for a while. A long while. My epidural would come late.
My doctor and the nurse made a mess of my bed by breaking my water bag (I was nervous about it hurting, but it didn't; it just felt like a pool of hot water coming out of me) soon after I got settled there. Thinking the epidural was within minutes, Pitocin was given. I waited anxiously for the epidural. And waited. And waited. The contractions were almost unbearable. The pain in my rectum was something no one told me about and with each contraction, I felt like a baby may come out of my rear! The baby was putting a ton of pressure on me there. That was the worst part. My nurse would apologize that it was taking so long for the epidural, ensuring that this was not common...as if I cared what was common or uncommon at that point, I just needed some drugs! It was so busy that day. My doctor was already set to deliver six babies that day alone and we'd be the seventh. My nurse, Barb, who was wonderful, suggested that maybe I'd want some other type of drug through my IV to relieve some pain, Nubain, until the anesthesiologist could get there. I didn't want it, but I really wanted it too. I succumbed and she came with the needle and I chickened out...I braved it out (pat, pat on the back :)) and decided if the anesthesiologist was going to be there sooner rather than later, I could wait. I was proud of myself, and confirmed my stupidity when the next contraction came.
After way too long, the anesthesiologist came and I was more than ready. It was a lot less scary than I thought. The hardest part was staying still while I contracted with him having a needle in my back. It was about 1:30 pm when it was in place. I was told within 10-15 minutes it would start working. At fifteen I could tell my contractions were getting less intense and in a half hour, I was smiling again. Our parents returned to the room and I felt better because I could speak again. Ahh...epidural. Could this also be the miracle of birth?
A new nurse, Rochelle, replaced Barb and she was just as wonderful, if not even more so. Now it was time to wait for my cervix to dilate. I was at a five now and needed to be at a ten to start pushing. I waited. Jeff waited. Our parents waited. It was slow. The Pitocin was turned up. Several hours passed. I was dilated to a six when my doctor thought I should have been further, so he said we'd wait another couple hours after turning up the Pitocin again and we'd hope for me to dilated to an eight. When he returned, I was! When he left the room, he said we'd hope for me to be dilated to a ten, a couple hours later, by 10:00 pm and it would be time for me to start pushing. Whoa...crazy! When he returned, low and behold, I was dilated to a ten and it was time! Finally, it was time.
At 10:30 on Saturday night (Saturday, February 28th), I began trying to push my baby out. I was given the instructions to take a deep breath in when I felt a contraction, Jeff would hold one leg up and the nurse would hold the other. I would push for ten seconds, breathe, push for ten seconds, breath, push for ten seconds and relax. Sounded simple enough to me. Within two rounds, I distinctly felt the baby's head way down in my birth canal. The doctor pulled Jeff around to look and he could see part of the baby's head and we found out our baby had hair. I felt like this was going to go quickly if the baby was already there. I was wrong. The baby was sunny side up (head down, face up) when he or she should have been head down, face down. An hour into it, Rochelle's shift would end and I really started to lose steam. At this point, I was 41 1/2 hours without sleep; my energy level was lacking. My doctor had managed to turn the baby to the correct position at this halfway point, but still, there was no further movement. I stared at the clock on the wall directly in front of me and I watched the last day in February turn to the first day in March. I pushed...and pushed...and pushed.
At 12:30 am on Sunday (Sunday, March 1st, 2009---what would come to be known as our baby's birth date), I had approached the two hour mark for pushing. At that time, my doctor decided we needed to explore other options. There were some guidelines and after two hours of pushing with an epidural, it was time to make some decisions. There were four options: continue pushing, but for only a short time, use the vacuum and still deliver vaginally, use the forceps and still deliver vaginally or c-section. Right away my doctor took the vacuum option off the table and with my lack of sleep, gently swayed me not to continue pushing any longer, although he would have let me had I really wanted to. I was exhausted. No more pushing, unless the forceps was going to be used. We talked with him for a while about the forceps and c-section options and then he left the room so Jeff and I could weigh the two. We went back and forth, back and forth. We had almost decided on using the forceps and just before the doctor came in, changed to the c-section option. Our baby was stuck in my birth canal; he or she had been through enough and it was time to do what we thought was the best thing for him or her. I second-guessed every part of our decision, but I would have done that no matter what we had decided. At a little after 1:00 am, it was decided that I was going into surgery and my doctor left to start preparations. Jeff got dressed in his scrubs and after, they wheeled me out of the room and into the operating room. It was 1:25 am.
Jeff would wait in a waiting area outside the room while I was prepped. There were so many people in the room there to help me and the need to thank them came over me. All of these people would make sure my baby and I got through this safely. Within minutes of being in the O.R., I began to shake uncontrollably. It was scary, but my two anaesthesiologists assured me I was OK and that this happens sometimes. Still, I hated it because of how out of control I felt. Once preparations were set, it was time to begin and my doctor said, "Where's Jeff? Why isn't Jeff here? Someone bring Jeff in!" I was wondering myself where he was and then he appeared. Still shaking, I tried to reassure him that all was fine and that they said it was normal. He described it later as it looked like I was convulsing; that's how it felt to me too.
The process began. I could feel tugging, but no pain. I was so anxious and excited to meet our baby after all this time! I kept asking Jeff through my chattering teeth and shaky voice, "Can you see? Do you know if its a boy or a girl?" He couldn't and didn't know yet and then they said for us to get ready...the head was coming...and there it was outside of me. I couldn't see a thing with the curtain up, but I felt it leave my body. I relied on Jeff for the play by play. He still didn't know, boy or girl. Then the doctor said, "It looks like a boy's head to me!"
Since I thought we were having a boy, a smile came across my face, but I wasn't shocked. I was just waiting there to meet him. Then I was told I'd feel a lot of pressure, like nothing I had ever felt. I felt pressure again, not pain, and I could feel the body pulled from inside of me. I heard gasps from the staff, not scary ones, but happy, surprised ones as I asked Jeff and found out, "It's a girl!" It was 2:20 am.
I could feel my smile from ear to ear and my eyes get bigger with surprise; I just could not believe that we had a girl. The doctor held her over the curtain and there my baby girl was! She was coated in blood, but so beautiful. Jeff and the nurses moved to the left of me as they cleaned her up. I could see them through my shakes, and was so eager for them to come back to me. At last, our precious little girl had arrived...
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The introduction (to labor)
As I mentioned in a previous post, a couple Thursdays ago (Thursday, February 26th) I started to feel like going into labor sooner rather than later was a real possibility. That night, when I went to the bathroom, I saw what appeared to be the start of me losing my mucous plug, also known as the bloody show (sorry about the yucky pictures those words paint, but I didn't term them!). (Leading up to this point, I had already felt like my baby was dropping and had more Braxton Hicks contractions.) It was slight, but enough to make me wonder and I immediately called my mom and got online to do a little research. I was prepared for this to happen, but I still didn't know exactly what it all meant regarding when to expect the baby. Some sites said labor could come within hours of losing it, some said it could be within days. Either way, it seemed to me that our baby wasn't going to wait until March 5th, my due date. I didn't want to alarm Jeff, who was out with some guys that night, but I did end up calling just to make sure he didn't have that extra beer...just in case. He answered the phone excitedly with, "Are we ready to have our baby?" So much for not wanting to get him fired up with a false alarm. I let him know not to worry and he would end up returning home a pretty short time later.
I had some sporadic contractions throughout the night and when it came time to get ready for work the next morning (Friday, February 27th), the thought crossed my mind that I may not be working the full day and end up in the hospital. We thought it was best for Jeff to drive me that day. We were looking forward to a dinner and movie date night that night, but at the end of the work day, still having sporadic contractions throughout the day and feeling more and more uncomfortable, decided that maybe dinner would be all I could handle. Before he picked me up, thinking a baby may make an appearance before Monday morning came along, I made sure to have all my ducks in a row at work, including turning on my out of office reply that I would be on maternity leave and changing my voicemail to reflect a similar message. I said goodbye to my co-workers feeling like it was going to be a longer goodbye than usual on a Friday.
Jeff and I made it to dinner close to our house just fine and settled in at home after to watch a movie. The movie concluded and the contractions really began and became more intense and regular around 8:00pm. I figured this had to be it, but when your water doesn't break, it's just so tough to know what is really what with the contractions being a first-timer. So we got through them as we best knew how and finally ended up calling the clinic a short time later, at 10:04 pm, when they were approaching five minutes between. Our doctor, who was thankfully on call that weekend, called us back a few minutes later at 10:08 pm. I explained that I was OK at home, but since we were instructed to call when the contractions were five minutes apart, we wanted to make sure we didn't have to come to the hospital at that time. After a set of questions, we determined I would stay home until the contractions became more intense and remained five minutes apart or less consistently.
So, the long night began. Jeff got out the stopwatch and we got through the contractions together. The breathing came fairly naturally (luckily, because we only spent about ten minutes on breathing techniques during one of our classes) since it was all I could do to try and relieve some of the discomfort. We headed to bed and discomfort turned to pain later that night, or very early the next morning (Saturday, February 28th), I should say. Jeff was great with the stopwatch at first, starting the timer when a contraction began, stopping it when it ended and giving me the report when the cycle was done. But after a while when I'd wait for the beep, the beep didn't come and I heard a soft snore. I knew it was going to be a long night and that he would need his energy, so I let him sleep. I was jealous, but I knew it would benefit us both. Still, he hardly had much sleep to speak of, but every little bit counted. It was funny because he'd randomly wake up as I was having another contraction (while I was chanting ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow continuously) and I'd hear his watch beep as if he hadn't missed the six contractions prior!
A couple times throughout the night, Jeff would say we needed to go to the hospital, no more phone calls to my clinic, we just needed to go. I almost agreed with him, but somehow we always ended up staying. I figured it was better to go through all of this at home than to wait it out at the hospital. I was glad we did, although a home epidural kit would have been real nice. I took two hot baths which helped in the night, but this madness wasn't going to stop. I think the longest time in between my contractions the entire night was nine minutes, once, but the average was between four and a half minutes and six minutes or so. I didn't sleep. I couldn't sleep. I would never sleep through the night again...or at least for some time! What a harsh realization, but there was no escaping it.
We called the clinic again at 4:38 am and expected another swift phone call from Dr. Chow. We waited. Figuring he was in surgery, we contemplated just heading to the hospital, but we stayed. Jeff got in a tiny bit more sleep and finally the doctor called at 7:21 am. By this time, I was having more bleeding (more like discharge mixed with blood, but heavier and it was a regular occurrence when I would go to the bathroom, which was almost after every contraction...sorry guys) and it concerned me some. I was happy he wasn't as concerned about that, but he wanted to make sure my water bag hadn't ruptured (as I had told him the bloody-tinged liquid was running down both legs at one point when I went to the bathroom...sorry again guys). He would inform the hospital I would be coming within two hours for an evaluation. We figured that even if they didn't admit me, which could easily be the case, we would at least have the peace of mind that everything checked out, even if we were sent home. I wondered how the pain I was experiencing couldn't be worthy of admitting me, but I really just wanted to make sure everything was without complication. Jeff and I got everything ready and set out for our 35 minute car ride. It wasn't as bad, nor as long as I thought it was going to be, seeing as how I was contracting the whole way, but I was so glad to be there when we arrived. It was about 8:30 am on Saturday morning...
I had some sporadic contractions throughout the night and when it came time to get ready for work the next morning (Friday, February 27th), the thought crossed my mind that I may not be working the full day and end up in the hospital. We thought it was best for Jeff to drive me that day. We were looking forward to a dinner and movie date night that night, but at the end of the work day, still having sporadic contractions throughout the day and feeling more and more uncomfortable, decided that maybe dinner would be all I could handle. Before he picked me up, thinking a baby may make an appearance before Monday morning came along, I made sure to have all my ducks in a row at work, including turning on my out of office reply that I would be on maternity leave and changing my voicemail to reflect a similar message. I said goodbye to my co-workers feeling like it was going to be a longer goodbye than usual on a Friday.
Jeff and I made it to dinner close to our house just fine and settled in at home after to watch a movie. The movie concluded and the contractions really began and became more intense and regular around 8:00pm. I figured this had to be it, but when your water doesn't break, it's just so tough to know what is really what with the contractions being a first-timer. So we got through them as we best knew how and finally ended up calling the clinic a short time later, at 10:04 pm, when they were approaching five minutes between. Our doctor, who was thankfully on call that weekend, called us back a few minutes later at 10:08 pm. I explained that I was OK at home, but since we were instructed to call when the contractions were five minutes apart, we wanted to make sure we didn't have to come to the hospital at that time. After a set of questions, we determined I would stay home until the contractions became more intense and remained five minutes apart or less consistently.
So, the long night began. Jeff got out the stopwatch and we got through the contractions together. The breathing came fairly naturally (luckily, because we only spent about ten minutes on breathing techniques during one of our classes) since it was all I could do to try and relieve some of the discomfort. We headed to bed and discomfort turned to pain later that night, or very early the next morning (Saturday, February 28th), I should say. Jeff was great with the stopwatch at first, starting the timer when a contraction began, stopping it when it ended and giving me the report when the cycle was done. But after a while when I'd wait for the beep, the beep didn't come and I heard a soft snore. I knew it was going to be a long night and that he would need his energy, so I let him sleep. I was jealous, but I knew it would benefit us both. Still, he hardly had much sleep to speak of, but every little bit counted. It was funny because he'd randomly wake up as I was having another contraction (while I was chanting ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow continuously) and I'd hear his watch beep as if he hadn't missed the six contractions prior!
A couple times throughout the night, Jeff would say we needed to go to the hospital, no more phone calls to my clinic, we just needed to go. I almost agreed with him, but somehow we always ended up staying. I figured it was better to go through all of this at home than to wait it out at the hospital. I was glad we did, although a home epidural kit would have been real nice. I took two hot baths which helped in the night, but this madness wasn't going to stop. I think the longest time in between my contractions the entire night was nine minutes, once, but the average was between four and a half minutes and six minutes or so. I didn't sleep. I couldn't sleep. I would never sleep through the night again...or at least for some time! What a harsh realization, but there was no escaping it.
We called the clinic again at 4:38 am and expected another swift phone call from Dr. Chow. We waited. Figuring he was in surgery, we contemplated just heading to the hospital, but we stayed. Jeff got in a tiny bit more sleep and finally the doctor called at 7:21 am. By this time, I was having more bleeding (more like discharge mixed with blood, but heavier and it was a regular occurrence when I would go to the bathroom, which was almost after every contraction...sorry guys) and it concerned me some. I was happy he wasn't as concerned about that, but he wanted to make sure my water bag hadn't ruptured (as I had told him the bloody-tinged liquid was running down both legs at one point when I went to the bathroom...sorry again guys). He would inform the hospital I would be coming within two hours for an evaluation. We figured that even if they didn't admit me, which could easily be the case, we would at least have the peace of mind that everything checked out, even if we were sent home. I wondered how the pain I was experiencing couldn't be worthy of admitting me, but I really just wanted to make sure everything was without complication. Jeff and I got everything ready and set out for our 35 minute car ride. It wasn't as bad, nor as long as I thought it was going to be, seeing as how I was contracting the whole way, but I was so glad to be there when we arrived. It was about 8:30 am on Saturday morning...
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Four days: Photos of Mirabella and her family
Thank you to all who have posted comments about our angel baby; we love reading them. These photos were taken at the hospital today and although we think she looks so sweet, there's nothing like seeing her in person (especially when she is awake!). We look forward to introductions in the days to come. We're going home tomorrow!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
