Wednesday, July 12, 2017
why
I have had two pretty awful, near-death experiences during what should have been the best moments of my life. I got to be wheeled away from my family as I am bleeding out, watching my husband hold my new precious baby and wonder if he will be able to be a single dad. Wonder if my mom would loose her only child. I have had to live through those moments not once, but twice. And relive them more than I would want. And they hurt so bad. My two youngest daughters births are forever tainted in my memory as days I lost who I was, rather than happiness of gaining a new child. I have struggled with these two days every day since they happened. I have a hard time hearing of birth announcements. I have to walk away when people talk about their pregnancy or birth. It hurts me too much. I hate that this pain is mine. But, behind my grief of my fertility is a fighter. A fighter that knows that there is someone who has not found their voice like I have and is just waiting to hear my story. Someone is hurting just like me. But unlike me, they are alone. I have been alone in these thoughts, and it is pure torture. I am dedicated to finding you. You--who don't feel like they can voice their true thoughts on motherhood. You--who lost more than you gained during birth. You--who feels alone.
Sunday, July 2, 2017
5 years
I feel like writing. I think I get rather inward when I get closer to birthdays. One, they mean my kids are getting bigger and no mom truly loves that thought. And second, they signify a big change in who I was vs who I am now.
The early hours of July 19th was the worst day of my life. The worst. There is no going around it. Nothing can take that fear of thinking you are going to die. Like honest to goodness thinking you aren't going to see your family again, or be able to see your new baby grow. But here I am. Living.
The more I learn about medicine, the more I question what happened to me. Were the right calls really made? They obviously worked. But was it best practice. Did the doctor learn anything from my case? Has it happened in the 5 years since? Why was a mass transfusion protocol not followed. I lost 5L of blood, the hospital I work at now has a policy that anything over 3 transfusions in an emergent situation requires other blood products. Did I get other blood products and them not tell me? Or did the hospital not have a similar policy so they just gave me my red blood cells? ...and why does that matter to me so much and make me mad? Am I strong enough to actually read my medical notes in the entirety? A lot are missing, but I have yet to read the nurse notes. I know that's where I am going to find the answers to a lot of my questions.
Why does even just thinking about this day give me that pressure in my chest and tears in my eyes.
It was almost 5 years ago! 5. that's a long time. Enough time for one to get over it. But I'm not. It still haunts me. The shadows are still there. And they suck.
But, I got a beautiful daughter. Heavenly Father knew that I needed her sweet spirit in my life when he sent her. She is so kind, caring, funny. She reminds me of me more than any of the other girls. She is a ray of sunshine.
The early hours of July 19th was the worst day of my life. The worst. There is no going around it. Nothing can take that fear of thinking you are going to die. Like honest to goodness thinking you aren't going to see your family again, or be able to see your new baby grow. But here I am. Living.
The more I learn about medicine, the more I question what happened to me. Were the right calls really made? They obviously worked. But was it best practice. Did the doctor learn anything from my case? Has it happened in the 5 years since? Why was a mass transfusion protocol not followed. I lost 5L of blood, the hospital I work at now has a policy that anything over 3 transfusions in an emergent situation requires other blood products. Did I get other blood products and them not tell me? Or did the hospital not have a similar policy so they just gave me my red blood cells? ...and why does that matter to me so much and make me mad? Am I strong enough to actually read my medical notes in the entirety? A lot are missing, but I have yet to read the nurse notes. I know that's where I am going to find the answers to a lot of my questions.
Why does even just thinking about this day give me that pressure in my chest and tears in my eyes.
It was almost 5 years ago! 5. that's a long time. Enough time for one to get over it. But I'm not. It still haunts me. The shadows are still there. And they suck.
But, I got a beautiful daughter. Heavenly Father knew that I needed her sweet spirit in my life when he sent her. She is so kind, caring, funny. She reminds me of me more than any of the other girls. She is a ray of sunshine.
Tuesday, May 16, 2017
a letter of shadows
To those who think I am put together.
Let me tell you, put together is not one of the phrases I would commonly use to describe me. But I am so grateful that you see me as such. I really am.
But lets talk for a minute.
I didn't brush my teeth today. I forgot. I was in such a hurry to get out the door and do what needed to be done, I just forgot. Part of that is because I keep my toothbrush in the other bathroom because the one I get ready in is still in shambles from when we moved....almost a year ago. I have yet to put it all together. And so I do my hair and make up in one room and brush my teeth in another. I wish I could say this was the first time. But its not. Thank heavens for gum!!!
I also didn't change my babies diaper this morning. I got her dressed and made the conscious decision to keep her in her overnight diaper. It didn't feel that full and I frankly just didn't feel like fighting with her. She is a fighter. I was not in the mood to play. So I waited until I had to leave the house....which also could have played a part in the not brushing my teeth. Because I was too occupied running around the living room chasing a half naked toddler.
I have body issues. When I was in high school I had an eating disorder. Not diagnosed. Although, had I been open about what was going on it should have been. I didn't eat. I blamed it on being sick, which I was. But it didn't need to be as bad as it was. Looking in the mirror and seeing your ribs and still thinking you aren't good enough is not a good thing. Those thoughts still creep in every once in a while, especially now that I have to force myself to eat since I am never hungry. The difference now is that I no longer see myself as fat. So that's good.
Now, I hate my body for other reasons. It failed me during birth of not one, but two babies. It tried to kill me. It created the environment where I was given the choice of life or babies. I obviously chose life, but the price I paid sometimes feels like too much. Quinn wasn't supposed to be my last. I have a scar that reminds me of sadness, nothing else, just sadness. I hate it. I hate that my uterus was taken away. I cry daily. Sometimes little tears, sometimes I'm bawling in the shower. But I cry.
I have had to search for my identity. I am a mom, a wife, a daughter, a nurse. But who am I. Am I enough? My insecurities can sometimes be too much to handle. So I stuff them away to process later. I feel like I am failing my children. Multiple times a day.
I don't know what to wear. Ever. I want to be stylish and cute. But I often times just revert to the same 3 tshirts because it will blend in.
I am plagued with who knows how many mental health issues. I have only been diagnosed with PTSD and depression. But now that I research more, I am pretty sure anxiety and OCD should be on the top of the list. I have horrible intrusive thoughts. Thoughts that are scary. Thoughts of me drowning the bath, or driving off an overpass. I would never do those things. But the thoughts still pop up. I never use the first stall in a public bathroom because that is where someone would go if the have to throw up. I have a horrible fear of others vomiting on me. It almost stopped me from being a nurse. And it is the one thing that makes me want to quit my job in the ER. But I just suck it up and try and pray I won't run out of the room and out of the building like I have done before. I question if I said the right thing, if I didn't say enough, if people think I am good enough. Self doubt is big in my brain.
So while you see this person, who looks put together and has everything figured out. Rest assured. I am just as messed up as everyone else in this world. Society makes everyone look like they know what they are doing. But really, everyone has flaws. Everyone has their shadows. These are just a few of mine.
But rest assured, I love that you think that. I guess I must be doing something right, right?
Alicia
Let me tell you, put together is not one of the phrases I would commonly use to describe me. But I am so grateful that you see me as such. I really am.
But lets talk for a minute.
I didn't brush my teeth today. I forgot. I was in such a hurry to get out the door and do what needed to be done, I just forgot. Part of that is because I keep my toothbrush in the other bathroom because the one I get ready in is still in shambles from when we moved....almost a year ago. I have yet to put it all together. And so I do my hair and make up in one room and brush my teeth in another. I wish I could say this was the first time. But its not. Thank heavens for gum!!!
I also didn't change my babies diaper this morning. I got her dressed and made the conscious decision to keep her in her overnight diaper. It didn't feel that full and I frankly just didn't feel like fighting with her. She is a fighter. I was not in the mood to play. So I waited until I had to leave the house....which also could have played a part in the not brushing my teeth. Because I was too occupied running around the living room chasing a half naked toddler.
I have body issues. When I was in high school I had an eating disorder. Not diagnosed. Although, had I been open about what was going on it should have been. I didn't eat. I blamed it on being sick, which I was. But it didn't need to be as bad as it was. Looking in the mirror and seeing your ribs and still thinking you aren't good enough is not a good thing. Those thoughts still creep in every once in a while, especially now that I have to force myself to eat since I am never hungry. The difference now is that I no longer see myself as fat. So that's good.
Now, I hate my body for other reasons. It failed me during birth of not one, but two babies. It tried to kill me. It created the environment where I was given the choice of life or babies. I obviously chose life, but the price I paid sometimes feels like too much. Quinn wasn't supposed to be my last. I have a scar that reminds me of sadness, nothing else, just sadness. I hate it. I hate that my uterus was taken away. I cry daily. Sometimes little tears, sometimes I'm bawling in the shower. But I cry.
I have had to search for my identity. I am a mom, a wife, a daughter, a nurse. But who am I. Am I enough? My insecurities can sometimes be too much to handle. So I stuff them away to process later. I feel like I am failing my children. Multiple times a day.
I don't know what to wear. Ever. I want to be stylish and cute. But I often times just revert to the same 3 tshirts because it will blend in.
I am plagued with who knows how many mental health issues. I have only been diagnosed with PTSD and depression. But now that I research more, I am pretty sure anxiety and OCD should be on the top of the list. I have horrible intrusive thoughts. Thoughts that are scary. Thoughts of me drowning the bath, or driving off an overpass. I would never do those things. But the thoughts still pop up. I never use the first stall in a public bathroom because that is where someone would go if the have to throw up. I have a horrible fear of others vomiting on me. It almost stopped me from being a nurse. And it is the one thing that makes me want to quit my job in the ER. But I just suck it up and try and pray I won't run out of the room and out of the building like I have done before. I question if I said the right thing, if I didn't say enough, if people think I am good enough. Self doubt is big in my brain.
So while you see this person, who looks put together and has everything figured out. Rest assured. I am just as messed up as everyone else in this world. Society makes everyone look like they know what they are doing. But really, everyone has flaws. Everyone has their shadows. These are just a few of mine.
But rest assured, I love that you think that. I guess I must be doing something right, right?
Alicia
Friday, October 28, 2016
Profound nothing
I have been doing decent. Until recently. I think it is because Quinn's birthday is coming up in a few weeks. Lately I feel super edgy and cloudy. I don't know why, but it is driving me nuts. I can tell how my brain is doing by how often it wants to write. For some reason, when I am down I want to write. The only problem this time, is I don't particularly have anything profound to say.
I guess this is it. Profound nothing. Kind of like my life at the moment.
The end
I guess this is it. Profound nothing. Kind of like my life at the moment.
The end
Monday, March 7, 2016
3 months out
The fog of just having a baby is starting to lift. I feel like I am starting to find me again, a new me, but a good me. So much, yet so little, has happened.
I don't really feel numb anymore. I can't decide if my exhaustion is due to lingering depression, physical from anemia, or real from working graves and having a baby who still doesn't sleep through the night. Either way, I am still exhausted. I spent 2 days in a row without a nap this week. That's the first time in I don't know how long I have done that. I wanted a sticker. But no one gave me a good job adulting sticker. Guess I will take a nap to celebrate.
I am having a hard time accepting that I will never be pregnant again. I wish it was a choice I made rather than one that was made for me. It is really a strange feeling to have a baby in my arms and mourn the next one that will never happen.
I am kind of happy my life has turned out the way it has. I know had I not have gone through the aftermath of Ava's birth I would not be as mentally well as I currently am. I would not have resources. I would be alone. Who knew that the mom I was trying to save would be myself.
I am going to start volunteering with Hope for Accreta in addition to my work with Postpartum Progress. I really need to find a job that I can work on all this and get paid. We would be rich!!!
Life is good. So good. I am so blessed to be here. I have lived through some crazy things that not everyone who has experienced them have. So blessed.
I don't really feel numb anymore. I can't decide if my exhaustion is due to lingering depression, physical from anemia, or real from working graves and having a baby who still doesn't sleep through the night. Either way, I am still exhausted. I spent 2 days in a row without a nap this week. That's the first time in I don't know how long I have done that. I wanted a sticker. But no one gave me a good job adulting sticker. Guess I will take a nap to celebrate.
I am having a hard time accepting that I will never be pregnant again. I wish it was a choice I made rather than one that was made for me. It is really a strange feeling to have a baby in my arms and mourn the next one that will never happen.
I am kind of happy my life has turned out the way it has. I know had I not have gone through the aftermath of Ava's birth I would not be as mentally well as I currently am. I would not have resources. I would be alone. Who knew that the mom I was trying to save would be myself.
I am going to start volunteering with Hope for Accreta in addition to my work with Postpartum Progress. I really need to find a job that I can work on all this and get paid. We would be rich!!!
Life is good. So good. I am so blessed to be here. I have lived through some crazy things that not everyone who has experienced them have. So blessed.
Monday, December 7, 2015
Second Time Shadows
For the past 2+ years I have been very involved in the maternal mental health world. I have rubbed shoulders with some pretty impressive people in this field. I have been a leader for Climb out of the Darkness, one of the largest events for postpartum depression awareness, for two years. I have been interviewed for the newspaper and TV news. I have helped start a support group that is actually pretty successful and well attended. For being "just a mom" I have done a lot, and I have learned a lot more. I have talked to numerous strangers that postpartum mood or anxiety disorders doesn't just have to be feeling sad, there is so much more to them, and that THERE IS HOPE. It does get better. Someone once described me as a "postpartum powerhouse." I have found my passion.
However, I have also found my vice. I know the signs. I know the feelings. And here I am 3 weeks postpartum seeing the signs in myself. The intrusive thoughts. The numb feeling. And lets not forget the endless amount of tears that are shed in the shower. I know whats going on. And yet, I don't want to admit it. Why? Because of the dang stigma of mental health that I have been trying to fight. I don't want to be seen as someone who needs help. I don't want to acknowledge that it has hit me again.
And that is the beauty of the beast. It doesn't discriminate. It doesn't care who I am, or what I have done. It is up to me to do the things I know I need to do. I am the one who needs to keep going to support group. I need to admit that I could use help. I need to do my best to not close myself off to others. That is one of my biggest fears. Last time I had no choice but to get up every day and go to nursing school and at least for those hours pretend that I was normal and in control of my brain. I had a distraction. Now, my distraction is.... I don't know what it is, but I need to find one. Most importantly, I need to find a good therapist.
What can you do? Spend time with me. Give me something to look forward to and give me a reason to get out of my yoga pants. Give me a quick text. See a funny cat joke and tag me in it. If you ask me how I am don't expect an answer more than good or fine. Its not that I am purposefully trying to be deceitful, I'm just so used to telling myself that I am fine it just comes out. Or I just don't feel like talking about it or crying again. But do give me a hug no matter what my answer is. You will soon know if I'm having a normal day or an off day. The good news is that I have been having far more good days than bad.
The even better news is that I have conquered this once before. I can surely do it again. And I will. Just give me time. I am, after all, a warrior mom.
However, I have also found my vice. I know the signs. I know the feelings. And here I am 3 weeks postpartum seeing the signs in myself. The intrusive thoughts. The numb feeling. And lets not forget the endless amount of tears that are shed in the shower. I know whats going on. And yet, I don't want to admit it. Why? Because of the dang stigma of mental health that I have been trying to fight. I don't want to be seen as someone who needs help. I don't want to acknowledge that it has hit me again.
And that is the beauty of the beast. It doesn't discriminate. It doesn't care who I am, or what I have done. It is up to me to do the things I know I need to do. I am the one who needs to keep going to support group. I need to admit that I could use help. I need to do my best to not close myself off to others. That is one of my biggest fears. Last time I had no choice but to get up every day and go to nursing school and at least for those hours pretend that I was normal and in control of my brain. I had a distraction. Now, my distraction is.... I don't know what it is, but I need to find one. Most importantly, I need to find a good therapist.
What can you do? Spend time with me. Give me something to look forward to and give me a reason to get out of my yoga pants. Give me a quick text. See a funny cat joke and tag me in it. If you ask me how I am don't expect an answer more than good or fine. Its not that I am purposefully trying to be deceitful, I'm just so used to telling myself that I am fine it just comes out. Or I just don't feel like talking about it or crying again. But do give me a hug no matter what my answer is. You will soon know if I'm having a normal day or an off day. The good news is that I have been having far more good days than bad.
The even better news is that I have conquered this once before. I can surely do it again. And I will. Just give me time. I am, after all, a warrior mom.
Friday, November 27, 2015
so I had a baby...
So I had my 39 week appointment and baby was measuring 7 lbs 11 oz. With my history of my inversion she didn't want baby to get too much bigger I waited a few days to hopefully go into labor and nothing happened. The day before my due date I went back and my midwife did a membrane sweep to hopefully push things along. I was a little bit crampy but nothing too bad. But every night I would have contractions for a few hours, I would go to sleep thinking this is it, this is the night I'm going to go into labor. And every morning I would wake up disappointed.
Tuesday at 40 weeks 3 days I went back to my midwife. She did another sweep and I was dilated to a 3 and 80% effaced. They scheduled me for an induction at 9 that night. I didn't request one, but she said they called for one later in the week and the hospital didn't have any. And I would be induced at 41 weeks anyways. Baby was growing pretty big and she didn't want it to stress out my uterus having a large baby. I talked it over with my midwife because she knew I wanted to stay away from Pitocin. So we decided that with sweeping my membrane, all she would probably need to do is break my water. She said if I start to get contractions that don't go away to go in before 9. And so I finally had an end date. I was going to meet my baby so very soon.
Chris took the day off so we just went home and cleaned up a few things and got our bags all fully ready. Around 12:30 I started to notice contractions that kept coming. I didn't want to time them yet. Around 1:30 I laid down and put on some music. Contractions were coming about every 2 songs and didn't stop, and usually they would when I would lay down. I text my doula just to give her a heads up, even though she was planning on being at the hospital with the induction. We left around 3 to pick up Zoey from school and brought all our things with us just in case. We picked her up and got ice cream as our last outing as a family of 4. Contractions were still going but I wasn't timing them. I didn't want to start worrying about them getting closer or what not.
We went to my in-laws to have dinner and eventually drop off our girls for their sleep over. Around 5 I told Chris we should just go to the hospital. I felt better being there since I have never been in labor before on my own and I really didn't want to go fast once things started going and not be there. We get to the hospital around 5:45 and they said they would just admit me instead of making me go through triage to see if I am in labor just to admit me anyways later on. It took about an hour to get fully admitted, and around 7:05 they checked me and I was a 4 and 80%, so stuff was definitely happening. My contractions weren't real consistent time wise, but happening. Since I was going natural, I was allowed to be off the monitors. My nurse put in the IV and I was really excited that she picked the vein I thought they would. Its a nurse thing....and its a really good vein if I do say so myself.
Karen, my doula, arrived around 8 and gave me a foot rub on pressure points that helps with labor. The reason was to help my contractions, but really, she just gives good foot rubs and my feet really hurt. At 9PM my midwife came to check on things. She checked me and I was a 5 and she broke my water. I knew that things would start to kick into gear, 1) because breaking your water really gets your contractions more intense and 2) I was a lot closer to transition. Chris, Karen, and I took a walk around the halls. I could tell they were picking up from the start to the end. By the end I needed to really stop talking and breath through them. We got back and I bounced on the ball for a while and tried different positions. At 10:30 my nurse came in to check on things and I asked if she could check me again. I was pretty paranoid that things wouldn't be ready once it was time to push. I was a 6 and 90%. For a moment I was disappointed, but I knew that it was just a number and things can change fast, especially since it was my 3rd baby. I wanted my mom to be there. Someone came in and I swore they said "your mommy" which was a little strange, but it was really Mari my midwife. She came back in the check on things, apparently she was staying upstairs in the lounge. That made me feel a lot better that she would be there. Karen asked if I was able to go in the tub with my water broken and I was given the ok. Thank goodness! They got the tub going and I stayed in there. It helped the contractions stay localized instead of feeling the pain all over my body. When I was in the tub I was able to zone out and was practically asleep between contractions. However, in the course of my time there they started to really get intense. I remember saying I wanted an epidural because I was getting nervous about stuff happening. And there was one contraction that I just said "I'm done. I'm done." In the back of my head I knew that that was actually a good sign that things were nearing the end, but I was too busy getting through the contractions to actually realize that. Shortly after I got out of the tub and into bed. My nurse must have been in there and they checked me at 11:36 I was a 9 and almost 100% effaced. So with that everyone started setting up for delivery.
My midwife came in shortly after and I was complete. And so I started pushing. But as soon as I needed to, my contractions miraculously got a lot more tolerable and I didn't really feel like I needed to push. We tried a few different positions and with a bar and finally found something that felt right to me. It was taking a long time so I told Chris to text my mom and his mom to tell them that everything is fine, its jut taking a while. I finally felt the "ring of fire" and I knew she was so close. Then all of a sudden I needed to push hard because I knew things were getting serious. The baby nurse came up to my side, and I knew from precepting that that means they are worried about shoulder dystocia. And so I took everything I had and out Quinn came at 12:34. They put her right on my belly and my first thought was "she is HUGE!!!" They waited until the cord stopped pulsing and Chris cut the cord. I got to touch it too, once again, its a nurse thing. Umbilical cords feel strange.
And now the wait. My midwife and I talked extensively about what we would do after baby was born. She would wait 30 minutes for it to detach. Well the clock just kept ticking and nothing was happening. tick tock...tick tock.... In the mean time they weighed her, 8 lbs 4 oz, 20.5 inches long. Yep, she was a big baby. Zoey and Ava were both 6 lbs. I tried feeding her to get my uterus to contract and get the show on the road. But nothing.
At 30 minutes she tries to do stuff to get it out. After a while she called for the hospitalist who started doing other stuff. They started Pitocin. Chis said he had some tong thing and a scraper and was scraping it out in pieces. My midwife was pushing on my stomach. Things were really hurting. I knew this wasn't going to end well. I could start feeling gushes of blood come out. Chris was by me the whole time and there was a moment we looked at each other and knew this was it, things were going to get crazy. And soon enough the room started to get full of other staff members. The hospitalist tried to figure out how much placenta was left and there was still probably over half. He said I have Accreta. I knew with my research with my uterine inversion exactly what that was and knew things weren't going to be good. He talked with Mari and they said they couldn't do anything else for me in the delivery room and I needed to go back to the operating room and have a hysterectomy. I knew as soon as they started digging out the placenta that I was done having kids. So the decision of the hysterectomy was easy. And besides what choice did I really have at that point? And as soon as I said ok then the room really got busy. They were calling for blood, putting in another IV for said blood. I was signing consent papers. I told them I wanted my family to come in so I could say good bye before I went back. This whole time I just kept thinking, how is this real life? How can I be doing this again. I had done everything in my power, they even checked for accrete on my 20 week ultrasound, and yet here I was. In another emergency. Only this time, it was a lot more controlled than my inversion. I knew that things would be ok after surgery. The fact that I was awake and in my room to get my second IV actually helped because I knew that they had enough time to do it, rather than being knocked out by that point because they rushed me to the OR so fast. And the fact that I was fully with it instead of being in hypovolemic shock helped too. So at 2:10 I said good bye and off I went.
They took me to the hospital's main Operating room. I was able to move from my bed to the operating table (ugh, that sounds so harsh. Who named it a table?) The room was really cold and they weren't giving me a blanket. Then they said they were going to give me this and that and I would be out, and sure enough I was. Next thing I knew is I was in recovery and couldn't talk. I could whisper, but they weren't listening to me. I was still cold. Finally, someone noticed me talking but they couldn't understand me so I wrote c-o-l-d with my hand and they got the picture and brought out a blanket. Apparently this was around 3:40 AM and Mari talked to my family and said I was in recovery and needed 3 units of blood.
I was back in the room around 5 in the morning and had another unit of blood. I was able to hold Quinn and try to feed her again. She didn't care for the bottle they tried to give her. She still definitely prefers her mommy.
I can't believe I got the birth that I was wanting, minus the whole surgery thing. Only 4 hours of active labor. Not induced. No epidural. Used the tub. I was able to have skin to skin right away and be very involved when they took her over to be weighed and such. Recovery has been ok, a lot easier than my Uterine Inversion. I think that's because I only lost about 2500 ml of blood as opposed to 4000ml during the inversion, and I had the same amount of blood transfused with both. It was entertaining to see how many nurses tried to find my fundus and would push on my tummy. I finally started to remind them towards the end that there isn't a uterus to check. The lack of a uterus was also nice in nursing because I didn't have the after pains that hurt like the dickens. All they removed with my uterus, I still have my ovaries, so I won't need hormone replacement.
A week later I am adjusting to the thought that we will forever be a family of 5. We were going to have one more, but obviously not now. I kind of worry about people asking if we are going to "try for a boy" when they hear I have 3 girls. Enough people asked me that while I was pregnant. I know I am going to have a lot more in the course of a life time. How do I answer that without it being awkward...I can't, I'm lacking an oven to put the bun in?
Quinn is perfect. Once my milk came in, she has been nursing like a champ. She is in newborn clothes, but they actually fit her. The one time I was prepared at the hospital with a premie outfit I had a monster for a baby. Her big sisters just love her. If Zoey goes anywhere the first thing she does when she gets back is ask where Quinn is and wants to hold her. Ava constantly comes up to her and says hi Quinnie Poo. :)
I'm not sure why I had to have two uncommon birth complications that essentially would have killed me without the intervention of modern medicine. But I will forever be grateful that I am here and able to talk about it and watch my family grow.
Tuesday at 40 weeks 3 days I went back to my midwife. She did another sweep and I was dilated to a 3 and 80% effaced. They scheduled me for an induction at 9 that night. I didn't request one, but she said they called for one later in the week and the hospital didn't have any. And I would be induced at 41 weeks anyways. Baby was growing pretty big and she didn't want it to stress out my uterus having a large baby. I talked it over with my midwife because she knew I wanted to stay away from Pitocin. So we decided that with sweeping my membrane, all she would probably need to do is break my water. She said if I start to get contractions that don't go away to go in before 9. And so I finally had an end date. I was going to meet my baby so very soon.
Chris took the day off so we just went home and cleaned up a few things and got our bags all fully ready. Around 12:30 I started to notice contractions that kept coming. I didn't want to time them yet. Around 1:30 I laid down and put on some music. Contractions were coming about every 2 songs and didn't stop, and usually they would when I would lay down. I text my doula just to give her a heads up, even though she was planning on being at the hospital with the induction. We left around 3 to pick up Zoey from school and brought all our things with us just in case. We picked her up and got ice cream as our last outing as a family of 4. Contractions were still going but I wasn't timing them. I didn't want to start worrying about them getting closer or what not.
We went to my in-laws to have dinner and eventually drop off our girls for their sleep over. Around 5 I told Chris we should just go to the hospital. I felt better being there since I have never been in labor before on my own and I really didn't want to go fast once things started going and not be there. We get to the hospital around 5:45 and they said they would just admit me instead of making me go through triage to see if I am in labor just to admit me anyways later on. It took about an hour to get fully admitted, and around 7:05 they checked me and I was a 4 and 80%, so stuff was definitely happening. My contractions weren't real consistent time wise, but happening. Since I was going natural, I was allowed to be off the monitors. My nurse put in the IV and I was really excited that she picked the vein I thought they would. Its a nurse thing....and its a really good vein if I do say so myself.
Karen, my doula, arrived around 8 and gave me a foot rub on pressure points that helps with labor. The reason was to help my contractions, but really, she just gives good foot rubs and my feet really hurt. At 9PM my midwife came to check on things. She checked me and I was a 5 and she broke my water. I knew that things would start to kick into gear, 1) because breaking your water really gets your contractions more intense and 2) I was a lot closer to transition. Chris, Karen, and I took a walk around the halls. I could tell they were picking up from the start to the end. By the end I needed to really stop talking and breath through them. We got back and I bounced on the ball for a while and tried different positions. At 10:30 my nurse came in to check on things and I asked if she could check me again. I was pretty paranoid that things wouldn't be ready once it was time to push. I was a 6 and 90%. For a moment I was disappointed, but I knew that it was just a number and things can change fast, especially since it was my 3rd baby. I wanted my mom to be there. Someone came in and I swore they said "your mommy" which was a little strange, but it was really Mari my midwife. She came back in the check on things, apparently she was staying upstairs in the lounge. That made me feel a lot better that she would be there. Karen asked if I was able to go in the tub with my water broken and I was given the ok. Thank goodness! They got the tub going and I stayed in there. It helped the contractions stay localized instead of feeling the pain all over my body. When I was in the tub I was able to zone out and was practically asleep between contractions. However, in the course of my time there they started to really get intense. I remember saying I wanted an epidural because I was getting nervous about stuff happening. And there was one contraction that I just said "I'm done. I'm done." In the back of my head I knew that that was actually a good sign that things were nearing the end, but I was too busy getting through the contractions to actually realize that. Shortly after I got out of the tub and into bed. My nurse must have been in there and they checked me at 11:36 I was a 9 and almost 100% effaced. So with that everyone started setting up for delivery.
My midwife came in shortly after and I was complete. And so I started pushing. But as soon as I needed to, my contractions miraculously got a lot more tolerable and I didn't really feel like I needed to push. We tried a few different positions and with a bar and finally found something that felt right to me. It was taking a long time so I told Chris to text my mom and his mom to tell them that everything is fine, its jut taking a while. I finally felt the "ring of fire" and I knew she was so close. Then all of a sudden I needed to push hard because I knew things were getting serious. The baby nurse came up to my side, and I knew from precepting that that means they are worried about shoulder dystocia. And so I took everything I had and out Quinn came at 12:34. They put her right on my belly and my first thought was "she is HUGE!!!" They waited until the cord stopped pulsing and Chris cut the cord. I got to touch it too, once again, its a nurse thing. Umbilical cords feel strange.
And now the wait. My midwife and I talked extensively about what we would do after baby was born. She would wait 30 minutes for it to detach. Well the clock just kept ticking and nothing was happening. tick tock...tick tock.... In the mean time they weighed her, 8 lbs 4 oz, 20.5 inches long. Yep, she was a big baby. Zoey and Ava were both 6 lbs. I tried feeding her to get my uterus to contract and get the show on the road. But nothing.
At 30 minutes she tries to do stuff to get it out. After a while she called for the hospitalist who started doing other stuff. They started Pitocin. Chis said he had some tong thing and a scraper and was scraping it out in pieces. My midwife was pushing on my stomach. Things were really hurting. I knew this wasn't going to end well. I could start feeling gushes of blood come out. Chris was by me the whole time and there was a moment we looked at each other and knew this was it, things were going to get crazy. And soon enough the room started to get full of other staff members. The hospitalist tried to figure out how much placenta was left and there was still probably over half. He said I have Accreta. I knew with my research with my uterine inversion exactly what that was and knew things weren't going to be good. He talked with Mari and they said they couldn't do anything else for me in the delivery room and I needed to go back to the operating room and have a hysterectomy. I knew as soon as they started digging out the placenta that I was done having kids. So the decision of the hysterectomy was easy. And besides what choice did I really have at that point? And as soon as I said ok then the room really got busy. They were calling for blood, putting in another IV for said blood. I was signing consent papers. I told them I wanted my family to come in so I could say good bye before I went back. This whole time I just kept thinking, how is this real life? How can I be doing this again. I had done everything in my power, they even checked for accrete on my 20 week ultrasound, and yet here I was. In another emergency. Only this time, it was a lot more controlled than my inversion. I knew that things would be ok after surgery. The fact that I was awake and in my room to get my second IV actually helped because I knew that they had enough time to do it, rather than being knocked out by that point because they rushed me to the OR so fast. And the fact that I was fully with it instead of being in hypovolemic shock helped too. So at 2:10 I said good bye and off I went.
They took me to the hospital's main Operating room. I was able to move from my bed to the operating table (ugh, that sounds so harsh. Who named it a table?) The room was really cold and they weren't giving me a blanket. Then they said they were going to give me this and that and I would be out, and sure enough I was. Next thing I knew is I was in recovery and couldn't talk. I could whisper, but they weren't listening to me. I was still cold. Finally, someone noticed me talking but they couldn't understand me so I wrote c-o-l-d with my hand and they got the picture and brought out a blanket. Apparently this was around 3:40 AM and Mari talked to my family and said I was in recovery and needed 3 units of blood.
I was back in the room around 5 in the morning and had another unit of blood. I was able to hold Quinn and try to feed her again. She didn't care for the bottle they tried to give her. She still definitely prefers her mommy.
I can't believe I got the birth that I was wanting, minus the whole surgery thing. Only 4 hours of active labor. Not induced. No epidural. Used the tub. I was able to have skin to skin right away and be very involved when they took her over to be weighed and such. Recovery has been ok, a lot easier than my Uterine Inversion. I think that's because I only lost about 2500 ml of blood as opposed to 4000ml during the inversion, and I had the same amount of blood transfused with both. It was entertaining to see how many nurses tried to find my fundus and would push on my tummy. I finally started to remind them towards the end that there isn't a uterus to check. The lack of a uterus was also nice in nursing because I didn't have the after pains that hurt like the dickens. All they removed with my uterus, I still have my ovaries, so I won't need hormone replacement.
A week later I am adjusting to the thought that we will forever be a family of 5. We were going to have one more, but obviously not now. I kind of worry about people asking if we are going to "try for a boy" when they hear I have 3 girls. Enough people asked me that while I was pregnant. I know I am going to have a lot more in the course of a life time. How do I answer that without it being awkward...I can't, I'm lacking an oven to put the bun in?
Quinn is perfect. Once my milk came in, she has been nursing like a champ. She is in newborn clothes, but they actually fit her. The one time I was prepared at the hospital with a premie outfit I had a monster for a baby. Her big sisters just love her. If Zoey goes anywhere the first thing she does when she gets back is ask where Quinn is and wants to hold her. Ava constantly comes up to her and says hi Quinnie Poo. :)
I'm not sure why I had to have two uncommon birth complications that essentially would have killed me without the intervention of modern medicine. But I will forever be grateful that I am here and able to talk about it and watch my family grow.
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