The story of Fiona
So its been a busy few days...
Wednesday morning I woke up when the doctor came in to check on me. I had been having contractions all day on tuesday. Tuesday evening the contractions were pretty strong, but eventually they had tapered off and eventually stopped. I had spotted a wee bit tuesday night, but by the time the periantologist came to check on me I was feeling pretty good. She left and I got out of bed, as soon as I stood I felt wetness. I didn't think too much about it, but it didn't stop. I took the few steps to the bathroom and by the time I did I was covered in blood. It was all over me, in the toilet and on the floor. I pulled the little cord next to the toilet and the nurses and periantologist came running back in. They surveyed the mess and pretty much decided on the spot that I was going to deliver. They were trying to guess how much blood there was, and they were guessing it was about 900cc's. So they called my main OB, and she rushed over. They got me back into bed, and tried to put the baby on the monitor (which was hard, because little miss thing kept squirming all over the place). While they did that, I reached over to call Mark and tell him that he better get to the hospital. He didn't answer his phone so I called his brother and asked him to stick his head into the bathroom to tell Mark to get out of the shower and to head over to the hospital. My OB showed up and did a quick ultrasound to determine how the baby was doing. My ob decided to hurry things up and started preping me for surgery. So I called Mark back (this time he answered) and told him that he needed to hurry up and get here because apparently the baby was coming, and she would be here SOON!
Mark arrived, and they handed him his bunny suit and told him to suit up. As soon as he was done they wheeled me off to the OR with Mark in tow. It was a little weird how fast everything happened. They got me into the OR and the anesthesologist arrived at 9:15 and got to work. The drugs made me feel completely out of it and really tired (apparently they were worried that since I had been calm so far at some point I would freak out so they gave me something to relax me). I remember my OB hugging me as they got the drugs started (which is unusual she isn't the most touchy feel-y of doctors). They laid me back and brought Mark in. He sat at my head and held the camera. he actually got video of Fiona being born! I pretty much laid back and closed my eyes waiting for things to get started. I could feel them pushing on my belly, but I didn't think they had started yet. Then at 9:30 (thats right, 15 minutes after I got into the OR) I heard the amazing sound of my daughter crying. I looked over at Mark and asked if that was her, he was all teary and told me that it was (I'm not sure who else i thought would be crying in the OR). I told Mark to follow her and make sure everything was okay while they finished up with me.
So at 9:30am on July 15th; Fiona Mackenzie Heaps entered the world weighing 4lbs 14oz, and was 18 inches long.
They finished up with me and wheeled me into recovery. Recovery was pretty uneventful. I was thirsty but otherwise I didn't really have any side effects. I sat around chatting and eating ice chips while waiting for feeling to return to my lower body. Mark spent most of the time going back and forth between me and Fiona, he would bring me photos and videos of her so that I could see her. Finally 2 hours after she was born I got to see her. I couldn't hold her but I did get to hold her hand through the isolette. Its a little scary to see your baby in an isolette hooked up to oxygen with probes and iv's coming out of her.
They then took me back to my room where I spent the next few hours. Finally at 3pm they let Mark wheel me back over to the NICU and I got to spend some time with her. The next day at 11am was her first feeding; which Mark and I were both there for.
Holding her was the most amazing feeling and it was pretty much love at first sight.I spent the next 4 days spending as much time in the NICU as possible. My schedule was wake up; pump; order breakfast; sleep until breakfast arrived; eat; go to NICU; go back to my room; pump; eat; go back to NICU... you pretty much get the pattern. I was allowed to be up and walk, so I made the long walk to NICU at least 5 times a day and would spend at least an hour with her.
I dreaded leaving the hospital...once again with out a baby. I know it was not the same situation as Penelope but I would still be leaving the hospital with out her. When the time finally came it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but it was still hard. Mark agreed that we would go home get me settled back into the house and we would get a bite to eat (woohoo something other then hospital food!) and then we would head back to the hospital.
Which has been the pattern pretty much since I got home. I try to spend as much time as possible at Good Sam as possible. She has grown and changed so much in the week and a half since she was born. Every day new progress is made and I look forward to seeing her and watching her grow. Even though she is doing great it is still an emotional roller coaster with her being there. We are anxious for her to come home, but at the same time the thought is scary. What if something goes wrong? She still has some work to do before she can come home, but hopefully it won't be too much longer. We will have to learn how to raise a preemie and all of the extra work that it takes. But it will be worth it to hold her in her room (her fabulous room that Mark worked on putting together) and to ahve her home.
Wednesday morning I woke up when the doctor came in to check on me. I had been having contractions all day on tuesday. Tuesday evening the contractions were pretty strong, but eventually they had tapered off and eventually stopped. I had spotted a wee bit tuesday night, but by the time the periantologist came to check on me I was feeling pretty good. She left and I got out of bed, as soon as I stood I felt wetness. I didn't think too much about it, but it didn't stop. I took the few steps to the bathroom and by the time I did I was covered in blood. It was all over me, in the toilet and on the floor. I pulled the little cord next to the toilet and the nurses and periantologist came running back in. They surveyed the mess and pretty much decided on the spot that I was going to deliver. They were trying to guess how much blood there was, and they were guessing it was about 900cc's. So they called my main OB, and she rushed over. They got me back into bed, and tried to put the baby on the monitor (which was hard, because little miss thing kept squirming all over the place). While they did that, I reached over to call Mark and tell him that he better get to the hospital. He didn't answer his phone so I called his brother and asked him to stick his head into the bathroom to tell Mark to get out of the shower and to head over to the hospital. My OB showed up and did a quick ultrasound to determine how the baby was doing. My ob decided to hurry things up and started preping me for surgery. So I called Mark back (this time he answered) and told him that he needed to hurry up and get here because apparently the baby was coming, and she would be here SOON!
Mark arrived, and they handed him his bunny suit and told him to suit up. As soon as he was done they wheeled me off to the OR with Mark in tow. It was a little weird how fast everything happened. They got me into the OR and the anesthesologist arrived at 9:15 and got to work. The drugs made me feel completely out of it and really tired (apparently they were worried that since I had been calm so far at some point I would freak out so they gave me something to relax me). I remember my OB hugging me as they got the drugs started (which is unusual she isn't the most touchy feel-y of doctors). They laid me back and brought Mark in. He sat at my head and held the camera. he actually got video of Fiona being born! I pretty much laid back and closed my eyes waiting for things to get started. I could feel them pushing on my belly, but I didn't think they had started yet. Then at 9:30 (thats right, 15 minutes after I got into the OR) I heard the amazing sound of my daughter crying. I looked over at Mark and asked if that was her, he was all teary and told me that it was (I'm not sure who else i thought would be crying in the OR). I told Mark to follow her and make sure everything was okay while they finished up with me.
So at 9:30am on July 15th; Fiona Mackenzie Heaps entered the world weighing 4lbs 14oz, and was 18 inches long.
They finished up with me and wheeled me into recovery. Recovery was pretty uneventful. I was thirsty but otherwise I didn't really have any side effects. I sat around chatting and eating ice chips while waiting for feeling to return to my lower body. Mark spent most of the time going back and forth between me and Fiona, he would bring me photos and videos of her so that I could see her. Finally 2 hours after she was born I got to see her. I couldn't hold her but I did get to hold her hand through the isolette. Its a little scary to see your baby in an isolette hooked up to oxygen with probes and iv's coming out of her.
They then took me back to my room where I spent the next few hours. Finally at 3pm they let Mark wheel me back over to the NICU and I got to spend some time with her. The next day at 11am was her first feeding; which Mark and I were both there for.
Holding her was the most amazing feeling and it was pretty much love at first sight.I spent the next 4 days spending as much time in the NICU as possible. My schedule was wake up; pump; order breakfast; sleep until breakfast arrived; eat; go to NICU; go back to my room; pump; eat; go back to NICU... you pretty much get the pattern. I was allowed to be up and walk, so I made the long walk to NICU at least 5 times a day and would spend at least an hour with her.
I dreaded leaving the hospital...once again with out a baby. I know it was not the same situation as Penelope but I would still be leaving the hospital with out her. When the time finally came it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but it was still hard. Mark agreed that we would go home get me settled back into the house and we would get a bite to eat (woohoo something other then hospital food!) and then we would head back to the hospital.
Which has been the pattern pretty much since I got home. I try to spend as much time as possible at Good Sam as possible. She has grown and changed so much in the week and a half since she was born. Every day new progress is made and I look forward to seeing her and watching her grow. Even though she is doing great it is still an emotional roller coaster with her being there. We are anxious for her to come home, but at the same time the thought is scary. What if something goes wrong? She still has some work to do before she can come home, but hopefully it won't be too much longer. We will have to learn how to raise a preemie and all of the extra work that it takes. But it will be worth it to hold her in her room (her fabulous room that Mark worked on putting together) and to ahve her home.