ruby's arrival pt. last

...Yeah, so I guess I lied about posting later that night.

Anyway, so they took Ruby off to the nursery for further testing and as I was laying there getting stitched up (TMI? too bad) I overheard my doctor and nurse discussing her APGAR scores. A 5 and 7. BOO. I knew something was wrong. The stress of the 20-hour labor plus my water being broke and a slew of breathing and blood pressure things (caused by that d*** epidural) made Ruby a not-so-happy newborn. She spiked a fever of 101.7 and her blood work showed there were possible indicators of an infection somewhere in her tiny little body.

I was promptly told she would be in the hospital for at least 48 hours.

I was devastated. I cursed myself and my stupid body for not progressing quicker and thought of how selfish I was to try for a VBAC when a c-section would likely have not resulted in the same outcome.

The next morning we went into the nursery and met with the pediatrician who told us it would be 72 hours. He lied, by the way. He neglected to tell us she would be closely monitored for 72 hours and stay until the following Tuesday. TUESDAY?? Oh. My. Gosh. Ugh. I hated hearing that. I started bawling because I'm selfish and I just wanted to take her home and she had a stupid brain slug thing attached to her head and we could only hold her with a billion wires hanging off her.

I had a little pity party.

I know things could have been so much worse and I needed to be grateful she was healthy (because she really was--all of this was a precautionary thing). Her fever went down after an hour, by the way, and never again went above a 98.6. So then we played the waiting game.

For 6 days.
Well after I was discharged.
as Ruby's hospital guest (what the heck??).

My milk came in about 20 hours after I had her. That was awesome (not).  I was so massively engorged that I would feed her and pump for 3-ish minutes to alleviate some of the pain and would easily get out 6-8 ounces. I was like a cat, producing enough milk to feed 15 kids. In fact, I filled up the nursery's mini-fridge and freezer. Haha. Then I had to start dumping it, which made me slightly uncomfortable.

Anyway, we got discharged early Tuesday morning with flying colors (and a 12 ounce weight gain!) and couldn't have been happier to be home. Ruby is a great baby and nurses exceptionally well--which is great because Oliver wouldn't latch. The past couple of nights she went 6 hours without waking up. Hallelujah! She much prefers to be in her swing or to be rocked which frees up lots of my time to play with Oliver. Speaking of Oliver, he totally loves her and will periodically go up to her throughout the day and rub her head. However, he kind of hates us and throws things at us when he gets mad.

Oh the joys of a toddler and newborn.

I posted an album on FB, but I wanted to do a comparison of Ruby at 1 day and 11 days (today):

 

Little cutie-pie. :-)

ruby's arrival pt. 2

pt. 2

I was reading through my pt. 1 blog and I realize I had about a billion grammatical errors and several incoherent sentences. Oh well, I guess that is what to be expected when you are taking percocet. I'll try to pick up where I left off...

Ok, I think I left off somewhere after I started oxygen? Sure. We'll start there. So we're getting to about 5 in the afternoon and I am still at a 1.5 but am at 90%. I can feel the ominous vibes from the nurses and my OB and I just start to feel a c-section is going to be the end of my labor story. Ruby's heart rate was lacking variation and I was on oxygen and wasn't progressing quick enough. I was so sad (as was everyone else in the room) and tried my best to keep it together. At 8 ish (maybe closer to 9?) I got my first of what was supposed to be 2 bags of antibiotics since we were entering hour 14 of my water breaking and everyone was getting concerned about infection. My nurse hooked the antibiotic up and started the drip. It stung/burned really bad. She said yes. And then as I was starting to sweat, I get the sensation of someone driving butcher knives up and down through my arm over and over and over again. I scream several choice swear words and start to rip the tape off my arm to pull the IV out. Apparently the nurse 'accidently' turned it on the highest drip for a split-second and that was the result. I was seriously SO discouraged and becoming really tired and weak (obviously).  At this point I was resigned to the fact that perhaps I was never meant to have a vaginal delivery.

And then 9:30 PM rolls around.

I get checked at 9:30 and magically I'm at a 3+. OH.MY.GOSH. We were all so excited! Progress! I just kept praying that I would get to a 5 before it was too late because, typically, when you get to a 5 it progresses pretty quickly at that point. Keep in mind I have yet to get my second bag of antibiotics...*

She checked me again at 10:30 and I was a 5+. And again at 1145 and I was a 7+ and completely thinned. By 1230 AM I was a 9+ and I started my first push at 12:50. That one was with the nurse. I did one set of 3 10 second pushes and she told me to stop and called my doc. 

He rolled in about 10 minutes later. I pushed 3 sets of 4 10 second pushes and she was born at 1:16 AM.

:-)

So, he put her on my chest and I noticed she was a little off-colored and not really moving. Or crying. I kept asking if that was normal but my audience was assuring me she was just fine (bless their hearts).  I was busy puking and sweating to see what was going on across the room. After they weighed her and I heard a weak and faint cry, they left. With Ruby. And off went Sean. 

I am going to break this post up from the next one because it's silly to have ones that are too long. I promise I am posting it tonight!

ruby's arrival pt. 1

first and foremost, our sweet baby girl:

Ruby Jane Mosman

born 6/29/11 @ 1:16 am

7 pounds 13 ounces 21.5"

second:

...the tale of the 20-hour trip to hell and back.

(be forewarned; it is long, graphic, and often sweary (yes, sweary))

I have put off posting this blog since our sweet Ruby was born because I'm not quite sure how to approach it. So I am going to do a brief summary of things from 38 weeks until the morning I went to the hospital:

38 W--membranes stripped-got an ultrasound where the tech concluded baby was good, measuring in at 7 lbs 13 oz. amniotic levels were good, placenta was "really mature." Still dilated to a 1, 60%.
38 W 2 D--mucous plus comes out (yep, this post is going to be pretty graphic) membranes stripped again.
39 W--membranes stripped again--moved to 1.5 centimeters and 70%.
39 W 2 D--membranes stripped AGAIN (yeah, whatever). Still at 1.5 centimeters and 70%.
39 W 6 D--membranes STRIPPED AGAIN. No change in progress so the doctor orders another ultrasound. She's measuring the exact same as she was @ 38 weeks. Doctor notes calcification on my placenta but says it's fine. However, she wasn't moving much so we did a non-stress test. Everything looked great there.

...now for the details:

After the ultrasound we talked to my doc and formulated a plan as to what the course of action would be. I had a strong feeling I shouldn't go past my due date (June 28th). My doctor was willing to go until that Friday (the 1st of July--today) if I came in daily until then for a non-stress test. Because I wanted a VBAC I was not eligible for an induction (cervadil/pitocin) and either had to go into labor on my own or be admitted and have my membranes artifically ruptured. We all decided Wednesday the 29th was a good compromise. I left that Monday feeling incredibly discouraged about having to be admitted AGAIN and mad at my body for not progressing like it should. Oh, I should explain why having a successful VBAC was so important to me: if I tried for a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) and failed, it would be in my medical history as a 'failed VBAC attempt' and it would be virtually impossible for me to try again, especially after having 2 sections and because of liability issues, it would be virtually impossible (again) to find a doctor and hospital combo willing to attempt a 3rd or 4th section. Also, it should be noted that a VBAC attempt is much different than labor and delivery as a standard vaginal. It's more high-risk, therefore I am watched MUCH more closely and blahblahblah.

Enter 5:15 AM June 28th.

My water actually broke on its own!

We do the whole "race to the hospital because my water broke and that means I'm going to have the baby in 2 hours!". We checked in at the ER while I sat in a wheelchair. I got up from the wheelchair and looked down at the seat and shouted to the lady as I walked out, "Uh, I leaked my fluids all over that chair. Just so you know." Sean was mortified. Nothing could have brought me down at that moment because my water broke on its own and I was having a baby! I didn't care that my pants were completely soaked and I leaked a trail all the way from the ER to my room.

(before it got all awful and stuff)

I went to the room and started having contractions 2-3 minutes apart and they were REALLY intense. I kept thinking, "ahhh, this is freaking painful but what if I just dealt with it? Maybe it would be a short labor and I could always ask for an epi later on...". Then the nurse said the anesthesiologist was in the next room and asked if I wanted mine now.

Sure, why not?

Little did I know that would end up being the WORST. DECISION. EVER. 

The anesthesiologist was a total a-hole. Didn't explain anything and had horrible bedside manner. I assumed a sideways position and listened to him babble about this and that and then he said, "ok, you may feel a small shock." SHOCK. Mother freaker. He says a second time, "you may feel another shock." SHOCK. Can you believe he said it a third time? And what do you know, another freaking shock. FINALLY, he said it one last time, and that shock turned into an entire body convulsion leaving me momentarily seizing and sobbing hysterically. I couldn't talk. I couldn't think. I couldn't even breathe.  He doesn't say a word and packs up his crap and leaves (don't worry, I've already complained--and by complained I mean threatened to sue the guy, haha). Oh, here's the best part about the epidural: according to the doctor, because of how 'tall' I am, aka huge, I had to keep my bed almost completely reclined or I would throw up. Every freaking time. And then my blood pressure would drop. Oh, I forgot to tell you that after I seized a bit when they rolled me back over my blood pressure dropped to 78/42 and I couldn't breathe and started vomiting. Awesome. I honestly thought I was dying.

Anyway.

The epidural then (sort of) kicks in, though there was never a point during the entire 20-hour labor that I felt zero pain and what do you know? Contractions stop dead. Nothing. No, I'm not saying I didn't feel pain, I'm saying the contracts flat-lined. Seriously? I am 2 for 2 on here-are-the-things-that-could-happen-as-a-result-of-your-epidural scoreboard. How long did they stop for? 6 hours. What time is it by now? A little after 3 in the afternoon. My water broke 10 hours ago and the nurses and my doc are getting concerned because after all, the catch-22 of your water breaking is it means your baby is coming, but it means it has to come within a certain amount of time because the risk of infection for mom and baby skyrockets exponentially. Plus, I'm a VBAC so they're freaking out even more. All the while my blood pressure would randomly drop and so would Ruby's heart rate. So now I am on oxygen. They tell me to not take it off at all. At least I sounded like Darth Vader.

Ok, I have to take a break and go relieve the beach balls that have somehow surfaced underneath my skin. Oh yeah, people have been asking to see a side-by-side of Oliver and Ruby for comparison's sake.

what say you?