Checking in the Hospital (Part II)

Once again I should be sleeping, but there's no time like the present and it has already been far too long since the first post. So...

Mandi, being brilliant, had already called ahead to the hospital to find out what doc was on call and to ask a few other questions that I can't remember now. Anyhow, I was in luck because my doc was on call and thus already at the hospital.

So when we arrived at the hospital the only really weird stuff I had to endure was standing up to yet another gush of water. (Yes, amniotic fluid continues to be created and thus leak whenever you move. Once again making you feel like you've wet yourself in public.) Anyhow, since I'd followed all of the rules and preregistered we didn't have to worry about too much paperwork and quickly checked into L&D (labor and delivery).

I named three people on my pass list. (I was a no info patient which was different than I had expected or how it was explained. Next time I'm going under an alias.) I wasn't allowed to change those names while I was in the hospital.

And after that I went back for observation. Observation really isn't that exciting of a place. Especially when you're not having any contractions (or any that you're really aware of). I declined the checks and blood work until I'd spoken with my doctor. So they proceeded to hook me up to two separate contraction monitors  and asked me some questions (which I no longer remember either). Fielding showed up about that time and I remember wondering if he was okay or if he was freaking out in his head. I also think the nurse had to think we were a bit crazy because of just how honestly we answered the questions. I swear there were a few contractions that occurred, but every time one was about to hit I ended up heading to the restroom. Oh, and they confirmed I was leaking amniotic fluid too.

Oddly enough we sat in observation for an hour when my doc finally showed up. (That is totally normal. They want to figure out if you really need to be admitted or not. He told me that the monitors hadn't registered any contractions and then checked my progress. No more progress than my appointment a week prior. So he advised me start pitocen and an epidural. Yeah...no. (I'm pretty sure this was the moment my doc wanted to tell me I was being difficult.)

I had told people I was going to opt for a natural delivery. Not because I thought it was a wonderful thing or anything like that. No. I'm terrified of needles and the thought of a needle in my back freaked me out. And yes, I also told people I thought it was STUPID of me to try natural when fabulous drugs were readily available. NOT because I think people who chose a natural birth are stupid, but more so because second to needles, I avoid pain as much as humanly possible.

Anyhow, he being a great doctor because I'm a slightly crazy patient pushed me to make some decisions. He told me that 80% of women who's water breaks don't start contractions on their own and have to be induced. He also told me how chances of infection increase the longer you wait too. So I had some decisions to make. I decided no pitocen and that I'd just wait it out a couple of hours to see how things went. I'm pretty sure I told him my uterus would win. After all, I'd beaten the odds thus far. -No morning sickness, no cravings, no issues at all. Just grew a healthy baby right on target. (God must know me pretty well.)

So I went back to a room and began the wait. Mandi, being brilliant again, knew my sister was still in the hospital. (Yes, the exact same hospital. She had delivered her son the day before.) She went and found her and had her come down to where I was to talk to me about what I needed to do. (Let's not hide it. It was to talk me INTO what I should be doing ie an IV at the very least.)

My sister had just gotten there when the nurse came in with a phlebotomist to draw some blood. -Please see part where I say I do not like needles. The nurse not knowing this tried to explain to me the why behind the draw. Hello, I do NOT care about the WHY. At this point in time I just want FIVE minutes to figure out what I want to do or figure out a way to deal with it. After some very short serious conversation, I decided to go with the IV. So the floor nurse (who oddly enough Kelli and I both knew from Middle School) came in to give me the IV. She was really efficient about it and walked me through what she was going to do to help me deal with it all. Yes, I cried and it was terrible (for me). I remember her telling me she was really proud of me and I told her that unfortunately I didn't care if she was proud of me or not. It didn't help. (Yeah, I know. Apparently I'm a pretty big jerk when I go to the hospital.) Kelli stuck around for a few minutes later and then headed back up to her room.

From there I honestly don't remember a whole lot. Contractions started going at some point in time and with EVERY SINGLE one of them I felt like I had to go to the restroom. So I'd get off the bed and wander to the bathroom. Cable/monitors in tow, though not hooked up then head back to the bed after. I don't know if every L&D room is like this, but I swear it was like a mini trek and with each contraction it just seemed so tedious. Needless to say contractions had started and they were going along just fine.

And since I've written a mini novel, rocked my child to sleep and need some sleep of my own, I'll have to write another part to this story. Who thought I'd have so much to say about it all? But at least you can think about the terrible things you can say to a doc the next time you go to the hospital. =)


TO BE CONTINUED....

How it all went down (Part I)

Okay, so I should probably be going to bed right now, but I'm tired of trying to figure out exactly when I'm going to write this all down. There is no convenient time anymore. Just now. (And now I need to figure out exactly where to start. The beginning? Which beginning? The day? The 'Event' where...hmm...)

Mandi called me a couple of hours before I was supposed to be done with work and asked me if I felt up to babysitting for her that night for a couple of hours. 'Yeah, why wouldn't I? I feel fine', was my reply. (And yes, I think I vaguely remember her telling me that she always ending up delivering on the day she felt 'fine'. But you'll have to ask her for her stories if you want those.)

Anyhow, I left work about 5p and headed over to her house. Got stuck in traffic and called her to see if she could pick me up some dinner from Chick-Fil-A. (I wasn't craving it, but it does taste pretty good. And I really like their lemonade so Mandi was nice enough to get me a large. =) ) I got there no issues and Mandi headed out the door to fill in for Bunko.

Ellie, Annie, and I were chilling quietly watching one of Ellie's favorite shows (Phineas & Ferb or Mickey Mouse Club). No issues. I don't think I'd been there more than an hour or so when Mandi's husband got home from his school class and Annie decided she was hungry.

Jason got her bottle ready and started to feed her. And since I didn't need to go home, we sat around talking about life. (Fielding was hanging out with Daniel and had just left to drive  him back to his apartment in Provo.) I figured it was no big deal. We could talk until Mandi got home, I'd leave and make it home about the same time Fielding would be getting home. So Jason and I sat around chatting while he fed Annie and honestly I can't remember if Annie spit up or if she was just making a mess eating.

Anyhow, (sorry, you might see that word a couple times in this.) Jason asked me to grab a towel from under the sink. Okay...do, do, do (That's me walking to the sink.) I walked over to the sink. Opened the cupboard underneath and bent over to get a towel and WET MYSELF. I mean, I had had a LARGE lemonade to drink and hadn't gotten the chance to use the restroom yet since Mandi left. Utterly embarrassing.

Yes, my thoughts at this point in time were how can I play this off, get to a restroom, figure something out, and get out of there post haste. I thought it would be okay initially and maybe I could hide it, but as I started to stand up straighter the more I seemed to be leaking. WHAT!?!? Embarrassing. I've NEVER lost control of my bladder like this before and there seems to be no stopping it either. [Facepalm] This is either you really losing it or there just might be a logical explanation for this...YOUR WATER JUST BROKE!Yup...pretty sure that's what just happened what do I do now? Play it cool. (Yes, most of that happened in my head in under 10 seconds.)

So I calmly walked towards Jason handed him the towel and let him know I was going to use the restroom because I was pretty sure my water just broke. I think he may have been in a little bit of shock and asked 'nuh uh.' Yup. I'll be back. So I went upstairs really emptied my bladder and asked myself some questions. 1-doesn't smell like urine 2-can't seem to control it. Holy crap! I really think my water broke. What should I do now?

SIDENOTE: Amniotic fluid smells kind of sweet unlike urine. Secondly, most women go into labor first instead of having their water break. When it does break 
most people say it doesn't gush. I felt like it gushed. It was insane!

So I headed back downstairs, confirmed once again that my water had broken and picked up the phone to call Fielding to see where he was at on the road.  
"ring, ring...
ME: Hey, where you at? Oh, you're still down there? Can you pick me up from Mandi's on your way back?
HIM: Why? What's wrong with your car?
ME: Nothing. Just wondering if you can pick me up. (I didn't want him to freak out because of his PTSD or even just because he was going to need to drive through the crazy Provo construction.)
HIM: Okay, but I still don't get why you can't drive your car.

ME:  Well,...I'm pregnant and my water just broke. (While the statement was blunt, I was perfectly calm about it.)
HIM:  What!?! I've gotta go. I've gotta go...Click.
(I'm pretty sure he finished saying goodbye to Daniel pretty quick and started heading for Mandi's.

After all of this, Jason was nice enough to offer to pack the kids up and drive me to the hospital. I told him no and that I was fine. (Which I was. At that point in time, I wasn't having any contractions and I was only shaking a little bit from the shock of it all. And outside of feeling like a very soggy two year old, I felt fine.)

Next call, Mandi.+
"ring, ring...
ME: Hey, where you at? Oh, you're still down there? Can you pick me up from Mandi's on your way back?
HER: In my car. Why?
ME: Oh, I was just wondering when you'd be home.

HIM: I'm just heading into the neighborhood. Why?
ME:  Well,...I'm pregnant and my water just broke. (It worked the first time. It was totally worth a repeat.)


Honestly I don't really remember all of the stuff that happened after that. So I'm going to make up my own version that I'm sure has a modicum of truth to it somewhere (either that and it's all lies my brain made up to make me feel better).

I'm pretty sure Mandi offered to drive me to the hospital or have Jason drive me. Both of which I said no too. It was nice, but I figured I still felt alright and hadn't had any contractions so it was no big deal.

She got back to the house and asked me how I was doing and I told her I was fine. She then asked me where Fielding was and I told her he was driving up from Provo and that he'd be there in a little bit. She then encouraged me to head to the hospital because she didn't want me having my baby on the living room floor. I said I'm sure I'll be fine and asked Ellie if she'd clean up the front room for me. She told me no. Mandi asked me if I wanted to sit down. (I'd been standing the whole time.) I told her no. I then told Ellie that I totally knew how she felt standing there with VERY soggy feeling underwear. After a little bit longer, Mandi made an executive decision. (Just one reason we're best friends.) She called Fielding to tell him we'd meet him at the hospital. Mandi was worried about my shaking and I'm sure a host of other things she didn't want to tell me. So we packed up two towels for me to sit on (No way was I going to ruin her new car.) and headed out.

She started down her normal route she took to get to work every day. Crap! I'm not hungry right now, but I want to get something to eat before getting to the hospital. (Some labor can take a LONG time and you can't eat anything once you get into the hospital.) So Mandi asked me what I wanted. I figured some kind of juice would be a good option. Maybe I could sneak it while the nurse wasn't in the room or something. We stopped at a gas station and I told her I wanted Troll Eggs too. (She was so nice to be so indulgent of the crazy person.) She got me a juice and then walked out with it without paying for it. (Don't worry, she told the cashier she'd be right back.) She wanted to know if I wanted the eggs or the worms. (See...she really did take care of my crazy self.) I told her the eggs and she went back in to the cashier and told him she had a prego lady in the car. He was really nice and asked when I was due. 'Oh, right now. We're actually heading to the hospital.' 'Oh, well good luck and congratulations.' (Again, I think something like this was said. I was in the car.) =)

After that, I was kind enough to let Mandi continue on to the hospital. (Still no contractions.) In fact, I felt more than okay, outside of feeling all soggy. We even just had normal conversation on the way to the hospital while I drank some of my juice. =)

TO BE CONTINUED.....-because I really need to go to bed and this really has turned out a bit longer than I had anticipated. Guess you'll have to wait for a part II. =)

A pic says it all

(At least for now this says it all.)

7 Year Itch

I'm itching to celebrate Fielding's and my seven year anniversary, but I doubt we'll actually get around to it. It was actually back in February on Super Bowl Sunday (and what an excellent day).
Fielding and I had talked about doing something extravagant, but being in my last month of pregnancy put a damper on any of those plans.

Instead we settled for some simple gifts (or they were supposed to be). Fielding got some books he wanted at B&N and I was going to settle for some delicious chocolate truffles. (Yum!) Fielding knew better though and decided to get me a few extras too. I got an orange bracelet and a new pair of AMAZING flip flops. (I'm still waiting to break them in, but I'm really excited to wear them when I do.)

I guess overall I didn't want this event to be glossed over by all of the madness that happened in February. I'm glad every day at least once that Fielding and I are together and that we've had seven years of adventure and love. I'm glad that he kisses me before he heads out the door to work. That he wants to give me a hug when I walk through the door at the end of the day. I love that we've been able to learn and grow closer over the last seven years regardless of what kind of madness we've faced. We've faced it together and become happier for it. I think most of all I'm grateful for our future together. We've started a new adventure together with our daughter and I know that we're in it together. I'm looking forward to more morning kisses, evening hugs, and SEVERAL sanity checks along the way.

Obviously I love him and think he's utterly perfect for me. Mwah! (That's directed at him, not the audience).

9 weeks!?!

So I made it through the first trimester, the second trimester, and even most of the third before things really started to hit me. Most of it was due to meeting with my doctor. I'd go to my appointment. He'd check the baby's heart rate. Ask me if I had any questions and tell me to schedule another appointment in two weeks. Nice, normal routine. Way easier to ignore that at some point in the near future I'd be going through labor and directly following I'd have one of the largest responsibilities of my life handed to me.

I tell people all the time that Fielding and I started out with cats because people ask WAY fewer questions if you screw that up than a child. (No, this doesn't mean I'm a terribad kitty mom or that I'd ever truly advocate anything like that. Just in case someone thought that.) I mean let's face it a child is a HUGE responsibility. One too many teenyboppers jump into without realizing the impact it has on their life and decisions. Yes, it can be done and successfully at that, but that doesn't mean it's easy by any means (regardless of what age you become a mother).

Anyhow, back to the story at hand.

I went in to the doctor's office for a routine checkup. Just like normal. Nope. As Fielding and I are getting ready to leave the doctor tells me I've got 9 weeks left. 9 weeks!?!? What!?! That has got to be wrong. I haven't been pregnant nearly long enough. (Not that I was celebrating being unable to wear my normal clothes or tossing and turning each night.) Where in the world had the time gone? I was supposed to have 10 months (40 weeks) to prepare for this and I was NOT ready. So what do I do? I ignore it.

Yes, it's what I do with major stress in my life. Deal with it in little pieces or freak out. I think part of me was hoping it would all just be a blur that worked out, and for the most part it was. There were a few things that stuck out to me though as the last 9 weeks dwindled away.

• My ankles and hands finally really started swelling. *sigh* I wore hiking shoes pretty much the remainder of my pregnancy. I can't believe my love of shoes was conquered by swollen ankles. (Oh, and I took my rings off before they had to be cut off.)
  
• EVERYONE seems to ask you how long you've got left. The closer you get to your due date the more details they seem to want. Any progress? Any baby yet? You're still here?
  

A) WHY would I want to describe to you what my innards are doing? I'm pretty sure you don't need an update or stats card to determine that at some point in the near future I'd be giving birth to a baby. (Yes, this question bothers me a great deal. I think mostly because I don't tell some of my closest friends information like this. WHY would I share it with people I barely know?)
B) Nope, no baby yet. If there was a baby or if I was in labor (contractions or water breaking) I HIGHLY doubt I'd be at work or pretty much anywhere other than home or a hospital.
C) Yup, still here. I'll be here until the baby decides to make an appearance and until that point in time I can still do everything I feel like doing. Shopping, movies, dinner, cards. All of that stuff.

• My mind. My poor mind really started to go during the last month of my pregnancy. I could remember SAT words, but couldn't remember the generic layman term. Yes, it made me feel like a bigger dork because of that.
  
• The last thing I really remember about my pregnancy was that I still thought it would take longer. There seemed to be (and there was) a million things I (and Fielding) hadn't yet done around the house. (Her room was still a mess and needed to be organized.) I was trying to figure out when to bless her.

Oh, and did I mention that I STILL didn't feel ready to 'give birth'? I had looked at the different classes, but didn't think any of them would genuinely assist me with what I needed. (Mostly I was looking for a way for the stork to deliver her like FedEx or for her to magically show up on my doorstep. WAY easier to imagine then the logisitics.)

Sadly, I was able to remain in this delusional place for about...5 more weeks. Once again my doctor ruined it for me. I went in for another routine appointment for him to check my progress and figured he'd just say to schedule another appointment one week out. (Yes, they increase in frequency the closer you get to your deliver date.) Nope. Instead he asks me how I'd like to have a baby this weekend. Um, NO!?! Outside of the fact that 'not ready, not ready' is running rampantly through my mind. I've still got at least two or three weeks left. First babies are notoriously late. AND the stats he'd given did NOT encourage me in the least that I'd be having a baby that quickly. Luckily, I got my appointment scheduled and didn't have a baby that weekend. Instead I got to wait a couple more weeks. (I think. My memory really is going.)

**I do have to state a bit of a disclaimer about my doctor. He was genuinely amazing and I'd recommend him to anyone regardless of the 'frightening' comments he made to me. He answered all of my questions and never made me feel like I was being stupid. He also gave me all kinds of suggestions and listened to what I wanted (even if it didn't turn out that way).

Lumpy Bumps

Okay, so I think these are honestly the only real pics I have during my pregnancy other than ultrasound pics. Is that bad? Anyhow, here you go.

Kelli had this idea that we should surround ourselves with a lot of food.

Ummm...I don't know that it worked really well. We kept eating it.

The brownies and gummy bears were tasty.

There was a whole in my shirt and they wanted me to try to eat the gummy bear.

I almost made it.

My sister wasn't nearly as flexible as me.

(Even if I did have to hold onto the high chair to NOT fall over.)

Trying to get some shots for our babyshower invites was tricky.

(We're never really serious when we're together.)

My sister Kelli and I decided to have some fun with pics.

We're both about...31 weeks. She's measuring 4 weeks ahead of me.

She likes 'em chunky.

I'm pretty sure I was 3 weeks along in this pic.

Shapely Shapes

This was the hardest part of the overall pregnancy for me. I mean I've never been super skinny, but I've never been stressed about my physical appearance either. (Don't ask me how I made it through high school without that complex, but I did.) I do like my clothes though and am pretty picky about the style of clothing I wear.

Unfortunately, that style isn't really conducive to being pregnant. I like tailored clothing and had invested a decent amount of money (at least to me) in my clothes. I was lucky that most of my clothes fit until I was about five or six months along. That didn't mean they were going to fit forever though.

I looked at Target a couple of different times, but just couldn't bring myself to pay the price they wanted for a SINGLE pair of pregnancy pants. My sisters and some of my friends lent me some maternity clothes in the meantime. Some of them worked. Some of them didn't. That didn't stop me from getting depressed and irritated that I couldn't seem to find any clothes that didn't make me feel like I was wearing a circus tent.

By the end of five or six months, the clothes that kind of fit didn't fit and I was starting to get really upset. I wanted to feel as good inside as I did when I wore my OTHER clothes. I gave up though and started to embrace some spandex. Yes, leggings. I didn't feel very professional in them, but they did seem to work in the meantime.

Fielding was nice enough to put up with me and my constant desire to find some clothes. He was also nice enough to buy me them when I found ones I FINALLY liked. I found 3 pairs of work pants (that looked tailored) and some dress/tunic tops that I could pair with them. Between my new clothes and the ones others lent to me, I'm hoping to make it through the end of the pregnancy.

And yes, while I still have those days where I feel like a 'Hefty Hippo' or 'cow'. (Yes, I've used those terms.) Fielding is sure to point out to me that I'm none of those things. I'm pregnant and I look gorgeous. (See, I knew I married a smart and loving man.) I've also figured out a way to feel pregnant and stylish in the clothes I got. I don't care what shape I am. I just want to be happy with myself and how I look.