Probably TMI

Ok, so I don't know if anyone wants to read this (and it will probably be TMI for just about everyone--I know these things usually are for me) but I've decided that I would like to record what I remember of the drug filled haze of our baby girl's birth.  And I apologize in advance if this becomes like a train wreck (where you start looking out of curiosity, and can't turn away no matter how badly you want to.)

We'll start at not quite the beginning, but at the beginning of the end.

May 11th--Friday  (Last day of work--Baby's due on the 21st)
Today I was on my feet all day, and going as fast as I could (which, in all honestly, wasn't particularly fast) to get everything finished up.  I had finally got the stockroom clean (the first time since last summer when all the bench top space was clear and clean).  However, we needed to sign the lease for our new apartment that evening, so I didn't get my desk moved out of the emeritus office.  Nick was so kind, he came back with me (even though he was planning on going back to work himself) and helped me move everything into the stockroom.  In the process, we covered the bench tops that I had just uncovered.

By that time I was so sore (baby was sitting so low that my doctor wasn't even able to check to see if I was dilated or not) that I couldn't stand for one more minute.  We decided that it would be best to come back for an hour or so on Saturday to finish. 

We went home, ate some food, and I took what passes for a hot bath when you're pregnant.  Let's just say it's a good thing she's cute, because there was a lot of cold "hot" baths during those months.  I then crawled into bed, and tried to get some sleep between bathroom runs.  (Not an easy task when they come every hour.)

May 12th--Saturday
Our ward's Relief Society threw me a baby shower this day.  It was a lot of fun (no games, just people coming and going as their schedule permitted) and I really enjoyed talking with everyone.  Many of the gals shared stories about when they were pregnant, or from their babies first few weeks at home.  It was inevitable that a horror story or two would come out.  It is absolutely hilarious to watch everyone else as someone tells one of these stories ... and even more enjoyable to see everyone immediately start to reassure me that won't happen to me. 

I have such sweet friends.  They'll lie through their teeth to keep from scaring a new mom, but that's just part of their charm.  (Little did they know, that by being the oldest of 6 ... most of whom have ADD ... their stories were no where near the worst that I have seen kids do.  We'll just conveniently forget all that I remember doing to my parents, because I was a perfect angel.)

The baby shower lasted a bit longer than I thought it would, so instead of heading right over to work I went home to rest.  Nick got called out on some stake business that needed doing, so we decided that we would go finish cleaning the stockroom after dinner.  I went to the bathroom, while Nick started on the dishes.  While in the bathroom, my water broke.  I just want to let everyone out there know that this does NOT have to be the gush that all the sources say it was.  Mine wasn't.  Just a trickle, that I knew wasn't pee because: 1. my bladder was still full and 2. the color was all wrong.

I called the on call doctor, and I must confess, I lied to her.  She asked if it was a gush, and I said yes.  She had us head out to the hospital.  At the hospital, they were able to check, and I was barely dilated to a 1.  They told me to rest while we waited to see if labor would start on it's own.  It didn't, and about an hour later they started to induce me.  Right around midnight I requested an epidural so I could sleep. 

May 13th--Sunday (Mother's day)
Around 6 am they had me start to push.  I pushed, but she was getting stuck on my pelvis.  The doctor kept saying that there was plenty of room, if she would just turn around.  Several attempts were made to help her turn the right way (Apparently babies fit through the birth canal better if they are face down.  When they are face up, the back of their head gets stuck on the mother's pelvis.), but she would just flip right back into her preferred position.  (Aye!  She already thinks she knows it all!)  After two hours, and no progress, it was decided that a C-section would be the safest way to deliver her. 

The anesthesiologist came back in to start the spinal block.  When he came in he said "It looks like you're going for the full package."  I thought "I figured I should try everything once," but I didn't want to jinx my surgery.  Now I wish I had said it. 

It was lucky that she wouldn't twist around.  Nick told me that they could see her through my uterus.  (I so wish he had got pictures.  I would have loved to see that.)  That's when the doctors realized that no matter what they did, my uterus was going to rupture.  When they went to take her out, she did a somersault and tried to run away.  (This stubborn streak really does not bode well for the future.  Especially since she is not quite a month old now and is already fighting naps.)  They ended up pulling her out by her ankle.  Nick tried to show me our little girl right after they handed her to him.  He told me that she was here, and I tried my hardest to open my eyes but I couldn't.  I don't even think my eyelids fluttered.  I remember being sad that I wasn't able to open my eyes.  The last thing I remember before I woke up in recovery was the surgeon saying "I'm going to need some help stitching this up."  I thought, "I wonder if that's normal." 

I woke up, and was told that my uterus is very good at thinning during labor (I guess that's good) and as a result it had ruptured all the way down to the cervix (that's not so good).  Any future kids that I have will have to be delivered by C-section by the 37th week, since my uterus will not be able to handle labor.  After that, I went back to sleep.  I remember Nick showing me our little girl, and waking up to see the nurse showing Nick how to change a diaper.  That's about all of Sunday that I remember.

May 14th--Monday
I think that I remember two or three hours of Monday.  They had me get up and move around a bit (apparently surgery makes me gassy).  After they helped me sit up completely, I belched really loud.  It was very odd, because usually when you have a burp that loud, it doesn't sneak up on you.  Getting up was very difficult at first.  By the end of the day, if I gave myself enough time, I could get up without help.  But the coughing that came with the tale end of my cold didn't help my pain level any.  Nick and I chatted, and played with the baby for a while. 

May 15--Tuesday
I actually remember Tuesday.  In the morning, they gave me two more units of blood.  Wow, that really made a difference in my energy level.  I now was able to get out of bed without any help, although I didn't turn any down.  And I even took a shower.  (That was so over due!)  I walked around the circular hallway a few times in the afternoon (probably ten minutes total), and that totally drained me.  The doctor told me I could go home tomorrow, depending on how my hemoglobin levels were.  Mom and dad flew in that night, and Nick went to go pick them up.  I tried to stay awake long enough to see them (or at least Nick when he returned), but only made it until ten.

May 16--Wednesday (Going home day)
I was given the ok to go home.  My hemoglobin levels were low, but acceptable.  More importantly, by this time I was ready to be home.  Nick brought mom and dad to the hospital that morning, and we visited until lunch.  Mom and dad went to Wal-Mart (I think that they go through withdrawal if they don't visit one everyday) while Nick and I got ready to leave.  When they came back, we watched the nurse pantomime giving the baby a bath (very entertaining) and then we headed home.

Now we are all home, and I am being my usual stubborn self.  Recovery is slow, but going good.  And Nick has already made his first two mistakes as a dad.  Mistake 1: Thinking that since I didn't leave him alone with a newborn, I can get away with all kinds of crap.  And, mistake 2: Telling me so.