Other Plans
A while back, when Lily was just a few weeks old, I started writing a blog about her birth story. It's still a work in progress, but I wanted to share the short version first. Here's the gist of what happened and how Lily entered the world in September.
Back in June/July I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. I worked really hard to ensure I controlled the diabetes with diet alone, as I didn't want to be put on medication or insulin. I was successful all the way through the end. As a side note, I want to mention that gestational diabetes can happen to anyone, regardless of their diet, weight, exercise regimen, etc. both before and during pregnancy.
I had to have a few growth scans leading up to my due date because one of the issues with gestational diabetes can be a larger than average baby. Specifically, the abdomen is larger than the head, which can lead to injury to the baby during birth, like a broken clavicle or dislocated shoulder. I was really concerned about this, so continued to keep the diabetes in check through the end of the pregnancy.
At the end of August I had a final growth scan, just before 38 weeks, and Lily was measuring around 7lbs 10oz. Which meant that she could be as big as 9.5lbs at birth. So, naturally I was a little concerned. But at my 38 week appointment my doctor wasn't too concerned, and wanted to see if my body would go into labor on it's own over the following 2 weeks. If not, I would see her on 9/16, and be induced on 9/18 (my actual due date).
Welp, despite my best efforts to get my body to go into labor, it just wasn't happening. I walked every day, ate all the superstitious foods, drank the tea, bounced on a yoga ball... nothing was moving. I saw my doctor on 9/16 and had almost zero progress to labor. So inducing on 9/18 was the next step.
Frank and I headed to he hospital at 7pm on Wednesday 9/18. I was less than thrilled by the plan they were sharing with me, and it seemed my blood pressure was skyrocketing. My care team immediately classified me as having severe preeclampsia (PRE-E), and it was a mad dash to get IVs placed and medication started so that my blood pressure can be lowered. This experience itself was miserable. Because of my hand injury 14 years ago, I only have 1 good hand for IVs. Plus, I couldn't have IVs in one whole arm because I would need to have a blood pressure cuff on for the remainder of my stay in the hospital. One nurse blew a vein in my hand, spraying blood everywhere. Another tried to place one in my wrist and hit a nerve (my thumb is still numb, btw). Eventually they got one placed, and decided to have the anesthesia team come in and place the other. Side note: I wanted the IV in my hand because I didn't want an IV in the crook of my arm. Well, the catheter for the IV that the anesthesia team placed was so freaking long that it was internally in the crook of my arm, so my IV alarms would beep CONSTANTLY!
Here's what you need to know about PRE-E: you're at major risk for seizure, so you need 2 IVs, one for a constant magnesium drip, and another for all other drugs. BUT! The constant magnesium drip would need to be changed every 2 hours (which means the IV monitor would beep every 2 hours). Additionally, the magnesium means you're a fall risk. So I was supposed to be on BED REST! Are you kidding me?! But all my nurses were letting me get up out of bed with assistance to at least use the restroom. One nurse even let me sit in the rocking chair in my room for a while.
By 10:30pm I was in my room, and my team was getting ready to place a balloon against my cervix to try to get me to dilate. Throughout the night I was pumped full of pitocin and given some morphine for pain and help me sleep. 12 hours later, I had progressed to 2cm - insert eyeroll.
Over the next 7 hours, I was pumped full of more pitocin and another drug called misoprostol to "soften" my cervix. by 5:30pm there was still no further progress, so they placed another balloon and pumped me with more drugs. 12 hours later, I was dilated to 3cm... My team decided it would be good to break my water to try to get my body going further. I said let's do it.
By 11pm that evening, I had little more progress, but they advised I have the epidural placed, so we did. That evening I had a lot of discomfort, but through it all, Lily and I tolerated everything. I literally used all the patience I could muster. Everyone that ever came in praised me for being so open to everything and being able to just go with it.
By 7am, my nurse changed... And I. Was. FUCKING. DONE. Because of her, I reached my breaking point. I finally broke down and cried, I told Frank I was done. When the doctor came in at 9am, I couldn't even articulate my feelings because I was hysterically crying. I am such a vocal advocate for myself, it was SO HARD for me to feel SO BROKEN. I asked the doctor when we could call it, because I didn't think I had much more left. If I ever reached the point of pushing, I wouldn't be able to muster anymore patience or strength. I was DONE. She said she'd come back in about 3 hours and if there was literally no more progress, we'd call it and they would take Lily.
At 12:45pm she returned. I had been shivering for the last hour, despite my skin feeling hot. Lily was still tolerating everything, but I was fading.. It was finally time, we called it. By 1:30pm I was wheeled into the OR and prepped for a c-section. In short, I kept feeling the poking and some pain, so they pumped me full of a lot of medication, I threw up, and had the worst shakes I've ever experienced in my life.
Lily was born at exactly 2:15pm on Saturday September 21st. I was in the hospital for 62 hours before she was born, and she was in utero without water for 32 hours...She was wide-eyed and perfectly beautiful when she was born. I, on the other hand, was an exhausted mess.
It was actually really difficult for me to compartmentalize what happened leading up to her birth, so I could celebrate the fact that she was here.
Another side note: I never had an issue with having a c-section. I would often joke that I was going to cross my legs until they cut me open and take the baby out. I don't believe that having a c-section means I didn't experience childbirth, or that my labor and delivery is somehow diminished.
Many thanks to my amazing husband and mom for sticking with me and encouraging me throughout this entire shitshow...
Back in June/July I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. I worked really hard to ensure I controlled the diabetes with diet alone, as I didn't want to be put on medication or insulin. I was successful all the way through the end. As a side note, I want to mention that gestational diabetes can happen to anyone, regardless of their diet, weight, exercise regimen, etc. both before and during pregnancy.
I had to have a few growth scans leading up to my due date because one of the issues with gestational diabetes can be a larger than average baby. Specifically, the abdomen is larger than the head, which can lead to injury to the baby during birth, like a broken clavicle or dislocated shoulder. I was really concerned about this, so continued to keep the diabetes in check through the end of the pregnancy.
At the end of August I had a final growth scan, just before 38 weeks, and Lily was measuring around 7lbs 10oz. Which meant that she could be as big as 9.5lbs at birth. So, naturally I was a little concerned. But at my 38 week appointment my doctor wasn't too concerned, and wanted to see if my body would go into labor on it's own over the following 2 weeks. If not, I would see her on 9/16, and be induced on 9/18 (my actual due date).
Welp, despite my best efforts to get my body to go into labor, it just wasn't happening. I walked every day, ate all the superstitious foods, drank the tea, bounced on a yoga ball... nothing was moving. I saw my doctor on 9/16 and had almost zero progress to labor. So inducing on 9/18 was the next step.
Frank and I headed to he hospital at 7pm on Wednesday 9/18. I was less than thrilled by the plan they were sharing with me, and it seemed my blood pressure was skyrocketing. My care team immediately classified me as having severe preeclampsia (PRE-E), and it was a mad dash to get IVs placed and medication started so that my blood pressure can be lowered. This experience itself was miserable. Because of my hand injury 14 years ago, I only have 1 good hand for IVs. Plus, I couldn't have IVs in one whole arm because I would need to have a blood pressure cuff on for the remainder of my stay in the hospital. One nurse blew a vein in my hand, spraying blood everywhere. Another tried to place one in my wrist and hit a nerve (my thumb is still numb, btw). Eventually they got one placed, and decided to have the anesthesia team come in and place the other. Side note: I wanted the IV in my hand because I didn't want an IV in the crook of my arm. Well, the catheter for the IV that the anesthesia team placed was so freaking long that it was internally in the crook of my arm, so my IV alarms would beep CONSTANTLY!
Here's what you need to know about PRE-E: you're at major risk for seizure, so you need 2 IVs, one for a constant magnesium drip, and another for all other drugs. BUT! The constant magnesium drip would need to be changed every 2 hours (which means the IV monitor would beep every 2 hours). Additionally, the magnesium means you're a fall risk. So I was supposed to be on BED REST! Are you kidding me?! But all my nurses were letting me get up out of bed with assistance to at least use the restroom. One nurse even let me sit in the rocking chair in my room for a while.
By 10:30pm I was in my room, and my team was getting ready to place a balloon against my cervix to try to get me to dilate. Throughout the night I was pumped full of pitocin and given some morphine for pain and help me sleep. 12 hours later, I had progressed to 2cm - insert eyeroll.
Over the next 7 hours, I was pumped full of more pitocin and another drug called misoprostol to "soften" my cervix. by 5:30pm there was still no further progress, so they placed another balloon and pumped me with more drugs. 12 hours later, I was dilated to 3cm... My team decided it would be good to break my water to try to get my body going further. I said let's do it.
By 11pm that evening, I had little more progress, but they advised I have the epidural placed, so we did. That evening I had a lot of discomfort, but through it all, Lily and I tolerated everything. I literally used all the patience I could muster. Everyone that ever came in praised me for being so open to everything and being able to just go with it.
By 7am, my nurse changed... And I. Was. FUCKING. DONE. Because of her, I reached my breaking point. I finally broke down and cried, I told Frank I was done. When the doctor came in at 9am, I couldn't even articulate my feelings because I was hysterically crying. I am such a vocal advocate for myself, it was SO HARD for me to feel SO BROKEN. I asked the doctor when we could call it, because I didn't think I had much more left. If I ever reached the point of pushing, I wouldn't be able to muster anymore patience or strength. I was DONE. She said she'd come back in about 3 hours and if there was literally no more progress, we'd call it and they would take Lily.
At 12:45pm she returned. I had been shivering for the last hour, despite my skin feeling hot. Lily was still tolerating everything, but I was fading.. It was finally time, we called it. By 1:30pm I was wheeled into the OR and prepped for a c-section. In short, I kept feeling the poking and some pain, so they pumped me full of a lot of medication, I threw up, and had the worst shakes I've ever experienced in my life.
Lily was born at exactly 2:15pm on Saturday September 21st. I was in the hospital for 62 hours before she was born, and she was in utero without water for 32 hours...She was wide-eyed and perfectly beautiful when she was born. I, on the other hand, was an exhausted mess.
It was actually really difficult for me to compartmentalize what happened leading up to her birth, so I could celebrate the fact that she was here.
Another side note: I never had an issue with having a c-section. I would often joke that I was going to cross my legs until they cut me open and take the baby out. I don't believe that having a c-section means I didn't experience childbirth, or that my labor and delivery is somehow diminished.
Many thanks to my amazing husband and mom for sticking with me and encouraging me throughout this entire shitshow...
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