How I love my little boy! He's such a little angel (except, of course, when he's a little bugger). He's sleeping for two to three hours at a time at nights now, and only cries when he's very hungry, or has bad gas. Last night, however, he insisted that he was starving, in fact he was so hungry he was GOING TO DIE, MAMA!! and for about an hour I kept putting him on and he would have about five sucks then fall asleep. As soon as I took him off, he started squirming and crying again so I finally gave in and put a pacifier in his mouth. I hadn't wanted to give him one if at all possible, and I cried a little seeing that awful thing in his cute little mouth, but once it was in, he felt a lot better and wanted to sleep. I'd rather not give it to him except to help him settle for sleeping.
My mother is here and I admit I'm taking advantage of her willingness to look after him while I sleep/eat/bathe/study during the day. I think she might be getting a little tired of it, but I don't bother her at bedtime, and either Partner or I change him and bathe him so she doesn't have to do anything messy. I've also given her permission to do light housework, but I don't think she's taken me up on that offer.
Since his birth, Franklin has put on 10 whole ounces--which is probably why he's hungry and sleepy all the time. Even I can tell he's really grown: everything about him is bigger, but especially his head and his length. I think he's going to be a very big, healthy boy.
We have taken him out several times now; he's gone into town with us a few times, we went to Brodsworth Hall (the local stately home), and of course we all went to pick up my mother from the airport. Today we walked to the village children's center and found out about all the baby activities and groups there. Partner's been carrying him in his little pouch--they both love it. He's met lots of admirers; the neighbors think he's adorable and both my and Partner's coworkers thought he was the image of perfection. Which is true.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Four days old
On Monday the 8th, Partner and I went into the next village over to visit the library, have a look around some charity shops, and buy groceries. That morning, I was feeling SO huge, and the baby was pressing down so heavily on my pelvis that I could only take very small, slow steps. About half-way through our shopping, I felt a contraction--enough to make me need to bend over the shopping cart for thirty seconds. After the third one of these in about fifteen minutes, I told Partner I thought I was contracting--he asked me what I needed to do, if I needed to leave the store or what. I told him I thought I'd be ok and went for a pee, and by the time I was done, he had pretty much gone through the check-out and was waiting to take me to the car.
However, I didn't have any more contractions that day, and we just went home and I had a rest--I had slept hardly at all the night before because of the pressing. Since I was so tired I slept early and fairly well that night; I got up to pee at about 4.15AM, and on my way back from the bathroom, felt a little gush of fluid. It wasn't quite like in the movies where it all comes out in a rush, but I did lose quite a lot in the next ten minutes or so: I put a towel between my legs and it got pretty soaked. So I woke up Partner and called up the hospital, and they recommended that I come in.
We had some breakfast, got dressed, and got everything put in the car, and I started to have a few more contractions; I had hired a TENS machine (I don't know if you know what that is--it's an electric deep muscle massager thingie) and Partner put it on my back for me. We arrived at the hospital at about six in the morning, just before the sun came up. Partner dropped me off at the front doors and went to park, and by the time I had waddled to the labor ward and checked in, he had arrived.
As I was not contracting regularly, not much happened for the next few hours. The midwife made sure my waters had broken (they had) and they set me up on the moniter to check the baby's heartbeat. The obstetrician came in to see me at about 9AM and said that as I had tested positive for group B strep and my waters had broken, he wanted to induce me as there was a chance of the strep passing to the baby. I hadn't wanted to be induced--I already knew that most ladies have the epidural if they are induced because labor happens much more quickly. I asked a lot of questions about what was likely to happen if I did, what could happen if I didn't, and especially, how would it affect my choices for birth. In the end, I decided to be induced, as Franklin was too precious to me to risk; more important than sticking to my original birth plan.
Because of the drugs, I had to be continuously monitered, meaning I couldn't stray from one position. From 10.30AM, for the first two hours, I stayed sitting/reclining on the bed, reading a book, as the TENS machine massaged my back. Partner went home to walk the dog and get something to eat. He got back at about 1PM, by which time I was in established labor, and had started using the entonox during contractions, which is nitrous oxide. I wasn't too sure about it at first, as it made me quite dizzy, but as time went on, I stopped feeling the dizziness, and just felt high. As the contractions got more intense, the TENS stopped being so effective, so I turned it off and Partner began massaging my back for me. I got off the bed for about two hours to sit on the birth ball (much more comfortable than sitting on the bed), by which time I asked for an injection of meptid to help with the pain.
The meptid really helped me cope, only after two hours it wore off and I couldn't have another injection until then--so for about half an hour from the wearing off of the first injection and the kick-in of the second injection, I only had Partner massaging me and the entonox for pain relief. This was at 5PM, and I was 5cm dilated. I told the midwife I couldn't handle another five hours of this kind of pain, and since the second injection hadn't taken effect, I said I wanted the epidural. She said the anesthesiologist was about to go into theater for an emergency c-section, but she would see if he had time for me.
By this time I was having about five or six contractions every ten minutes and the midwife turned the drug down a little seeing as she wanted me to have four or five in ten minutes; I was having almost no time between contractions. The anesthesiologist came in and the first thing he said to me was: "Stop that shouting! Save your strength; breathe the gas, breathe the gas!" and he shoved the mouthpiece into my mouth. He said, "I'll give you the epidural and you hold perfectly still. That's the agreement." He went on to rattle off the risks, and to ask if I still wanted it. He was a really short man, and he came in guns blazing, but I listened to him and did what he said (there was a small part of me that found it slightly funny, but that may have been the nitrous). He did me the epidural, and I squeezed Partner's hands during each contraction, and didn't shout but breathed the gas. After about four or five contractions, it was done, and after another two or three, I started to feel much less pain.
He said to me that my spine was not completely straight and if it wasn't working on one side, I should lay on that side; I told him I had scoliosis and he said it might not work on that side, then. During contractions I did still feel it on my left side, but the relief was enormous, and I didn't want to shout any more. After some repositioning, the pain became even less on that side, though I still felt a small bit--I could breathe through this kind of pain on the entonox, however. All I needed was Partner to hold my hand.
At 9PM I was 10cm, and they wanted me to have an hour at 10cm to get the baby in the best position. At 10PM, the midwife asked if I could still feel the contractions (I could) and told me she wanted me to do three big pushes for each contraction. I was to grab the back of my thighs, pull forward, and push. The first try was a little strange and quite a bit painful, but after that, I knew what to do. At each contraction, she and Partner both encouraged me really loudly and positively, and after each push they told me how well I was doing. And each time they said that, I asked them what was happening--what could they see? We were joined by another midwife shortly after and she was also very vociferous with her encouragement and praise.
They noticed from the moniter that the baby's heartbeat was dropping a little during each contraction and one of them told me I might need a forceps delivery if it continued, but it stopped as soon as his head was past my tailbone (I asked if that meant he was through the u-bend and they thought that was funny). After nearly an hour of pushing, he still wasn't out, so I was told that one would fetch the doctor. Once she'd left, the other one said, "Let's beat the doctor; you can do it!" And I did. Now I was doing five big pushes for each contraction, and his head was nearly out when the doctor came. Both midwives actually shouted at him to go away, he wasn't wanted here.
And once his head was out, the relief was pretty much instantaneous. I did one more push, he slithered out, and the midwife passed him up onto my chest and I saw and held my beautiful baby son for the first time. Before, I wasn't sure if I'd cry, or be too exhausted, or what, but at that moment I just felt so incredibly happy. He was born at 10.47PM.
As for the rest, the placenta came out pretty much straight after he did. They cleaned him up for me while he was still laying on my chest, and then undid my gown so I could have skin-to-skin contact and then the midwife did a check to see if I needed stitches. She said his hand was born at the same time as his head, and it caused me to tear a little. I passed Franklin to Partner who undid his shirt to continue with skin-to-skin while she did my stitches. She gave me a little novocaine and stitched me--again I had to keep asking her what she was doing ("What are you doing?" I'm just tightening the knots." "Now what are you doing?" "I'm just putting a few stitches in front." etc). Someone else came in to weigh him (7lb8oz) and measure him, but she brought in the scales with her, so at no time did he leave my room. When she was finished, she gave him back to me and I put him on my breast and he fed for a good half an hour.
Partner went home at about midnight and they transfered me down the hall to the postnatal ward down the hall. Franklin slept in a bassinet next to my bed all night. He did sleep a lot that first 24 hours--he had a bath and a change and one last feed before we left the hospital at around 4PM. Our first night alone was quite hard, as I was still quite exhausted and not sure about breastfeeding (I started crying along with him at 2AM because I couldn't feed him, though I kept trying. Eventually I hand expressed a few milliliters into a little plastic measuring cup every two hours, and he was able to lap at it). I had a home visit the next day from both my midwife and a worker from a breastfeeding charity and now I'm more confident and he's much happier.
Partner had told me more than once that he was scared of babies, and was worried he'd break ours; but since he was born, he can't get enough. He just wants to hold him and cuddle him, and I have a hard time getting him back. I know exactly how he feels. Having a baby is the most amazing, wonderful thing. I just love him so much.
However, I didn't have any more contractions that day, and we just went home and I had a rest--I had slept hardly at all the night before because of the pressing. Since I was so tired I slept early and fairly well that night; I got up to pee at about 4.15AM, and on my way back from the bathroom, felt a little gush of fluid. It wasn't quite like in the movies where it all comes out in a rush, but I did lose quite a lot in the next ten minutes or so: I put a towel between my legs and it got pretty soaked. So I woke up Partner and called up the hospital, and they recommended that I come in.
We had some breakfast, got dressed, and got everything put in the car, and I started to have a few more contractions; I had hired a TENS machine (I don't know if you know what that is--it's an electric deep muscle massager thingie) and Partner put it on my back for me. We arrived at the hospital at about six in the morning, just before the sun came up. Partner dropped me off at the front doors and went to park, and by the time I had waddled to the labor ward and checked in, he had arrived.
As I was not contracting regularly, not much happened for the next few hours. The midwife made sure my waters had broken (they had) and they set me up on the moniter to check the baby's heartbeat. The obstetrician came in to see me at about 9AM and said that as I had tested positive for group B strep and my waters had broken, he wanted to induce me as there was a chance of the strep passing to the baby. I hadn't wanted to be induced--I already knew that most ladies have the epidural if they are induced because labor happens much more quickly. I asked a lot of questions about what was likely to happen if I did, what could happen if I didn't, and especially, how would it affect my choices for birth. In the end, I decided to be induced, as Franklin was too precious to me to risk; more important than sticking to my original birth plan.
Because of the drugs, I had to be continuously monitered, meaning I couldn't stray from one position. From 10.30AM, for the first two hours, I stayed sitting/reclining on the bed, reading a book, as the TENS machine massaged my back. Partner went home to walk the dog and get something to eat. He got back at about 1PM, by which time I was in established labor, and had started using the entonox during contractions, which is nitrous oxide. I wasn't too sure about it at first, as it made me quite dizzy, but as time went on, I stopped feeling the dizziness, and just felt high. As the contractions got more intense, the TENS stopped being so effective, so I turned it off and Partner began massaging my back for me. I got off the bed for about two hours to sit on the birth ball (much more comfortable than sitting on the bed), by which time I asked for an injection of meptid to help with the pain.
The meptid really helped me cope, only after two hours it wore off and I couldn't have another injection until then--so for about half an hour from the wearing off of the first injection and the kick-in of the second injection, I only had Partner massaging me and the entonox for pain relief. This was at 5PM, and I was 5cm dilated. I told the midwife I couldn't handle another five hours of this kind of pain, and since the second injection hadn't taken effect, I said I wanted the epidural. She said the anesthesiologist was about to go into theater for an emergency c-section, but she would see if he had time for me.
By this time I was having about five or six contractions every ten minutes and the midwife turned the drug down a little seeing as she wanted me to have four or five in ten minutes; I was having almost no time between contractions. The anesthesiologist came in and the first thing he said to me was: "Stop that shouting! Save your strength; breathe the gas, breathe the gas!" and he shoved the mouthpiece into my mouth. He said, "I'll give you the epidural and you hold perfectly still. That's the agreement." He went on to rattle off the risks, and to ask if I still wanted it. He was a really short man, and he came in guns blazing, but I listened to him and did what he said (there was a small part of me that found it slightly funny, but that may have been the nitrous). He did me the epidural, and I squeezed Partner's hands during each contraction, and didn't shout but breathed the gas. After about four or five contractions, it was done, and after another two or three, I started to feel much less pain.
He said to me that my spine was not completely straight and if it wasn't working on one side, I should lay on that side; I told him I had scoliosis and he said it might not work on that side, then. During contractions I did still feel it on my left side, but the relief was enormous, and I didn't want to shout any more. After some repositioning, the pain became even less on that side, though I still felt a small bit--I could breathe through this kind of pain on the entonox, however. All I needed was Partner to hold my hand.
At 9PM I was 10cm, and they wanted me to have an hour at 10cm to get the baby in the best position. At 10PM, the midwife asked if I could still feel the contractions (I could) and told me she wanted me to do three big pushes for each contraction. I was to grab the back of my thighs, pull forward, and push. The first try was a little strange and quite a bit painful, but after that, I knew what to do. At each contraction, she and Partner both encouraged me really loudly and positively, and after each push they told me how well I was doing. And each time they said that, I asked them what was happening--what could they see? We were joined by another midwife shortly after and she was also very vociferous with her encouragement and praise.
They noticed from the moniter that the baby's heartbeat was dropping a little during each contraction and one of them told me I might need a forceps delivery if it continued, but it stopped as soon as his head was past my tailbone (I asked if that meant he was through the u-bend and they thought that was funny). After nearly an hour of pushing, he still wasn't out, so I was told that one would fetch the doctor. Once she'd left, the other one said, "Let's beat the doctor; you can do it!" And I did. Now I was doing five big pushes for each contraction, and his head was nearly out when the doctor came. Both midwives actually shouted at him to go away, he wasn't wanted here.
And once his head was out, the relief was pretty much instantaneous. I did one more push, he slithered out, and the midwife passed him up onto my chest and I saw and held my beautiful baby son for the first time. Before, I wasn't sure if I'd cry, or be too exhausted, or what, but at that moment I just felt so incredibly happy. He was born at 10.47PM.
As for the rest, the placenta came out pretty much straight after he did. They cleaned him up for me while he was still laying on my chest, and then undid my gown so I could have skin-to-skin contact and then the midwife did a check to see if I needed stitches. She said his hand was born at the same time as his head, and it caused me to tear a little. I passed Franklin to Partner who undid his shirt to continue with skin-to-skin while she did my stitches. She gave me a little novocaine and stitched me--again I had to keep asking her what she was doing ("What are you doing?" I'm just tightening the knots." "Now what are you doing?" "I'm just putting a few stitches in front." etc). Someone else came in to weigh him (7lb8oz) and measure him, but she brought in the scales with her, so at no time did he leave my room. When she was finished, she gave him back to me and I put him on my breast and he fed for a good half an hour.
Partner went home at about midnight and they transfered me down the hall to the postnatal ward down the hall. Franklin slept in a bassinet next to my bed all night. He did sleep a lot that first 24 hours--he had a bath and a change and one last feed before we left the hospital at around 4PM. Our first night alone was quite hard, as I was still quite exhausted and not sure about breastfeeding (I started crying along with him at 2AM because I couldn't feed him, though I kept trying. Eventually I hand expressed a few milliliters into a little plastic measuring cup every two hours, and he was able to lap at it). I had a home visit the next day from both my midwife and a worker from a breastfeeding charity and now I'm more confident and he's much happier.
Partner had told me more than once that he was scared of babies, and was worried he'd break ours; but since he was born, he can't get enough. He just wants to hold him and cuddle him, and I have a hard time getting him back. I know exactly how he feels. Having a baby is the most amazing, wonderful thing. I just love him so much.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Thirty-eight weeks four days
I had Partner take this picture of me today. Who knows when Franklin's going to decide to pop out? Since last week, lots of people have asked me how long I have left. In fact, no one has asked me if I'm pregnant until this past week; now strangers and neighbors alike are commenting. I guess my answer should be: any day now.
I feel quite swollen in my legs, feet, and to some extent hands. My ankles have been swelling slightly for the past few months: I don't think I actually have ankles any more. I took a wet washcloth to bed last night to wrap around my hands to try and keep them cool, with moderate results.
On Monday (four days ago) the midwife sent me to the hospital with high blood pressure. My blood pressure has been elevated though within normal limits during the entire pregnancy; this was the first time it was high. Once there, they monitered it and the baby, and took some blood. Everything was ok; in fact my blood pressure steadily dropped as they monitered it. I ended up discharging myself without waiting for the doctor to do my review. The nurse wasn't happy with my decision, but after I signed a disclaimer, she let me go.
I wanted to go because we had tickets to Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet and it started in half an hour. Even so, we missed everything up until the balcony scene, but at least we got to see all the bloody bits where everyone dies. On the way back to the car, I turned my ankle on uneven pavement in the middle of the theater crowd and went sprawling; how embarrassing--I couldn't get up! Richard and some random man grabbed my arms and hoisted me up. When I told my friend about the incident, she mentioned it happened to her mother once and she chose the phrase "beached whale." Much as I hate comparing myself to a cetacean, I agreed with the sentiment.
I have since had my blood pressure confirmed as back to normal, and the fall didn't hurt the baby (or me--I've got a lot of padding).
I feel quite swollen in my legs, feet, and to some extent hands. My ankles have been swelling slightly for the past few months: I don't think I actually have ankles any more. I took a wet washcloth to bed last night to wrap around my hands to try and keep them cool, with moderate results.
On Monday (four days ago) the midwife sent me to the hospital with high blood pressure. My blood pressure has been elevated though within normal limits during the entire pregnancy; this was the first time it was high. Once there, they monitered it and the baby, and took some blood. Everything was ok; in fact my blood pressure steadily dropped as they monitered it. I ended up discharging myself without waiting for the doctor to do my review. The nurse wasn't happy with my decision, but after I signed a disclaimer, she let me go.
I wanted to go because we had tickets to Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet and it started in half an hour. Even so, we missed everything up until the balcony scene, but at least we got to see all the bloody bits where everyone dies. On the way back to the car, I turned my ankle on uneven pavement in the middle of the theater crowd and went sprawling; how embarrassing--I couldn't get up! Richard and some random man grabbed my arms and hoisted me up. When I told my friend about the incident, she mentioned it happened to her mother once and she chose the phrase "beached whale." Much as I hate comparing myself to a cetacean, I agreed with the sentiment.
I have since had my blood pressure confirmed as back to normal, and the fall didn't hurt the baby (or me--I've got a lot of padding).
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