Hannah Marie
As many of you likely know, Joe and I have had our baby girl. Her name is Hannah Marie. She was born 11/9 at 6:10am. She weighed 7lbs. 4oz. She was 20 1/2" long and has a head full of bright red hair.
This is our story:
I started not feeling well about the time of Dillon's birthday. I didn't know it at the time, but I was already pregnant. This would explain my lack of energy and interest in throwing my son a birthday party, but we managed a small one. It would also explain why I had begun to draw back socially somewhat. This only got worse the sicker I got.
It was not long after that that I took a pregnancy test and it came back positive.
Then the morning sickness hit. I developed hyperemesis gravidarum essentially, and yet it took me months to get anyone to do anything about it. By then I had lost over 30 lbs in just a couple of months. The dizziness, fainting spells, and nose bleeds followed shortly there after. It was about my sixth month before the hyperemesis gravidarum really started to let up. Then I was able to enjoy more normal morning sickness for about another month.
I was sent to a cardiologist after I passed out/possibly seized while driving thru Westlake one day. I felt something was very wrong and pulled over. That is what saved me and my unborn at the time. It was found that essentially the pregnancy was taking a toll on my heart. She was placed in such a way that she was putting pressure on my superior vena cava, causing low blood pressures, low energy, at times extreme weakness, and explained my frequent earges to faint. Delivery was really the only thing that would fix this.
Shortly there after I developed gestational diabetes. I had a hard time getting control of my blood sugars in the first couple of weeks and they wanted to put me on medication for it. I refused. I had heard nothing good about this medication's affects on an unborn baby. I managed to get my sugars in line though on my own, shear determination for her sake.
The next thing to developed within a week of the diabetes was toximia. My blood pressures and swelling became a great concern to them and I was kept over night for observation of all of my various conditions on more than one occassion. Not to mention countless ER trips. I was told for me and my baby's safety that they would induce at 38 weeks if I didn't have her before then on my own.
I started prelabor about Sunday of last week, I think it was. Really is started before then, but it only started to get really uncomfortable about 3 days before she was born.
We went in to the ER Wednesday night. We got there about 7pm. I was dilated 2 and sent back home.
At 4am Thursday morning, the real contractions started and woke me from a dead sleep. By the third one and the slight trickle down my leg, I told Joe it was time to go. I encouraged him to drive faster as the contractions got worse and closer together at an alarming rate. We got to the ER about 4:40am.
After that, things become a bit of a blur. I went on automatic in a way I guess because I have no idea how I did some of the things they were making me do with all of the pain I was in like: getting from the wheelchair into the bed, getting into that stupid gown, etc. They checked my dilation and I was at 3.
They wisely decided to admit me. I was taken to my labor, delivery, and recovery room. I had people swarming me trying to draw labs and start IVs. The pain was getting worse to the point that was becoming unable to hold the screams. I asked, no honestly, I begged for something for pain. I was supposed to get an epidural. It was at that point that they checked me again.
I had gone from 3 to 9 in 20 minutes. There was no time for anything for the pain in any form and I was staring at having the nurses deliver my baby in the face.
At 5:40am my water broke and at about that time I think it was, the doctor hit the door at a dead run. I was out of my head in pain and the pressure was ungodly. I had to have her completely natural. Nothing else could be done. The doctor tried to give me locals as fast as he could, and got most of the bottom half down there numbed, but she was coming to fast for him to get it all numbed.
The nurses had my legs and were trying to reach my ears with my knees it felt like. I pushed until I thought I was going to pass out. The doctor saw that I was about to rip, and tried to make a clean cut for me, but again, she was coming to fast. Her head was there before he could get the incision made. I ripped.
It was at the point that she got stuck for the first time. Right around her head, she was born with a crown of bruises right round her head.
They managed to get her head out, then her shoulders got stuck. The doctor sounded panicy when he kept repeating, "She's stuck!"
At that point, I had 3 nurses and the doctor compressing and bouncing on my uterus until I threw up on myself. I was empty, so it was just stomach acid. I couldn't catch my breath after that and they were still all over me crushing me. They had my legs spread and pulled back until I thought they were going to break. It felt like I was ripped in two and I screamed and just knew one of us was going to die before this was over.
Finally, her shoulders made it out and of course the rest came no problem at 6:10am. The cord was wrapped around her head. They rushed her over to the little table and went to work on her because she was not breathing. I couldn't move even my head and I couldn't get anyone to tell me what was wrong. I kept asking Joe why I didn't hear her crying. He just kept telling me it was ok.
I managed to get my head turned and NICU staff had come in. Not ever a good sign. She had about 10 people around her at this point. I knew then something was wrong. I told Joe, "Too many people, what's wrong with her?" He said, "She's just having a lil trouble breathing." He was so awesome and stayed so calm. Wouldn't have made it without him.
That was the longest minute of, my life waiting for her to breathe. Then they had to watch her so closely that we didn't get to hold her for hours after she was born. Aside from the bruising her health seemed ok.
However, they decided to xray her shoulders since she was stuck so very badly. It turns out that she has a fractured clavical. We have to keep her right arm tucked close to her body until it heals. It has made dressing her very difficult and I usually cry when I have to do it, it kills my heart, but we manage.
We spent a very restless night in the hospital. Then they actually offered to let us go home. Well against my better judgement, driven by my desire to be home and my hate of hospitals, I said, "Sure."
That night I started retaining fluid in a serious way. I have been back to the hospital twice since I had her. My blood pressure is up to a not so healthy degree and they are not sure what they want to do with me yet, but I keep talking my way out of being readmitted.
In addition, I'm ripped from front to back, stitched inside and out. I have no idea how many stitches in all. You can only see about 6 are so real easily from the outside. It's the inside that's worse.
My abdomine feels like someone took a tire tool to it. That's still not the worst of it. I found out last night through an xray at the ER why it is that I am still in such ungodly pain that I can barely move. I have had a peripartum pubic separation or diastasis pubis. Essentially, from the assistance we required during delivery, the cartiledge that holds the 2 halves of my pubic bone together have somewhat separated. Not quite a broken pelvis, but close. A bone deep bruised pelvis that's for sure.
So Hannah and I have both been beaten, battered, broken, and bruised through this ordeal, but we are as ok as can be expected under the circumstances. I guess that's what a 2 hour and 10 minute labor and delivery with crappy care will do for you huh? At least we both survived, so far. Jury is still out on me and my blood pressure and the full body edema I suffer from.
We all 3 slept in the bed that first night home. I'm usually against that due to the risk to the baby, but I can't help it. After what she and I and Joe too have been thru, I can't let her away from me even to sleep. I can't stand for other people to hold her other than Joe. Not even my mother or my sister. Protective doesn't even come close. I almost feel obsessed.
Joe and I held each other and cried that first night, and have cried other times since. It's just a lot to take in and think about when you stop and realize all of the "what ifs."
It didn't help with what the doctor had to say the day after we delivered. He came to me and discussed how scarey it all was and how much she and I would hurt. We feel like train wrecks basically. He also asked me if I planned to have any other children. I said no. He said, "Good, because if you had, 'Yes.' I would have to advise against it, because each time you have a baby, the next one averages about 4 oz more than the previous one, and had Hannah been 4 oz more than she was the outcome would've been much worse."
Basically one or both of us could very well have died. It was more than a lil tense as it was. With only 2 hours of labor and delivery to work with, there is not a lot of wiggle room for error. We have to thank God that it turned out as well as it did in spite of the beating we took.
We are starting to get a bit of a routine going. Joe has been an absolute angel. I can hardly get up out of a chair, but when I do he is always right there. He has changed more diapers and washed more bottles than I have at this point. We each sleep on a couch at night, since we found out I can't really get in and out of the bed with out wanting to pass out from the pain. Hannah sleeps in my arms and Joe gets up with us to help take care of her as I am barely even able to lift my own child.
He goes back to work Monday. We are trying to figure out what we are going to do and how we are going to work around that. Since some of our friends seem to consider us "fair weather friends" we aren't going to ask for help from those who we consider our friends. We would not want to further encourage this opinion of us. That's leaves me in the hands of my mother I guess. That ought to just be great for my blood pressure, but can't be helped.
It really hurts that on top of everything we have been going thru during this entire pregnancy, some people just wouldn't take our situation into account I guess. No, we have not been the most social of peoples this past year, but come on, I think we have a really good excuse. But oh well...
Anyways, that's pretty much letting everyone have an update on things. I have sat here so long I'll likely want to cry when I stand, but that's parr for the course these days.
We are still somewhat in shock I think, and still not feeling the most social, but it's getting better. I think most of it now is my over protectiveness of Hannah and my pain.
I'm almost out of my painkillers and they have not said anything about a refill, so with a "broken ass" I can't say I'm very impressed. Joe wants to cry for me sometimes I think when he can see me and tell the meds are wearing off. He feels helpless in some ways I guess though he shouldn't. He's my angel.
Hope everyone is doing ok. Take care all.
Laters!
This is our story:
I started not feeling well about the time of Dillon's birthday. I didn't know it at the time, but I was already pregnant. This would explain my lack of energy and interest in throwing my son a birthday party, but we managed a small one. It would also explain why I had begun to draw back socially somewhat. This only got worse the sicker I got.
It was not long after that that I took a pregnancy test and it came back positive.
Then the morning sickness hit. I developed hyperemesis gravidarum essentially, and yet it took me months to get anyone to do anything about it. By then I had lost over 30 lbs in just a couple of months. The dizziness, fainting spells, and nose bleeds followed shortly there after. It was about my sixth month before the hyperemesis gravidarum really started to let up. Then I was able to enjoy more normal morning sickness for about another month.
I was sent to a cardiologist after I passed out/possibly seized while driving thru Westlake one day. I felt something was very wrong and pulled over. That is what saved me and my unborn at the time. It was found that essentially the pregnancy was taking a toll on my heart. She was placed in such a way that she was putting pressure on my superior vena cava, causing low blood pressures, low energy, at times extreme weakness, and explained my frequent earges to faint. Delivery was really the only thing that would fix this.
Shortly there after I developed gestational diabetes. I had a hard time getting control of my blood sugars in the first couple of weeks and they wanted to put me on medication for it. I refused. I had heard nothing good about this medication's affects on an unborn baby. I managed to get my sugars in line though on my own, shear determination for her sake.
The next thing to developed within a week of the diabetes was toximia. My blood pressures and swelling became a great concern to them and I was kept over night for observation of all of my various conditions on more than one occassion. Not to mention countless ER trips. I was told for me and my baby's safety that they would induce at 38 weeks if I didn't have her before then on my own.
I started prelabor about Sunday of last week, I think it was. Really is started before then, but it only started to get really uncomfortable about 3 days before she was born.
We went in to the ER Wednesday night. We got there about 7pm. I was dilated 2 and sent back home.
At 4am Thursday morning, the real contractions started and woke me from a dead sleep. By the third one and the slight trickle down my leg, I told Joe it was time to go. I encouraged him to drive faster as the contractions got worse and closer together at an alarming rate. We got to the ER about 4:40am.
After that, things become a bit of a blur. I went on automatic in a way I guess because I have no idea how I did some of the things they were making me do with all of the pain I was in like: getting from the wheelchair into the bed, getting into that stupid gown, etc. They checked my dilation and I was at 3.
They wisely decided to admit me. I was taken to my labor, delivery, and recovery room. I had people swarming me trying to draw labs and start IVs. The pain was getting worse to the point that was becoming unable to hold the screams. I asked, no honestly, I begged for something for pain. I was supposed to get an epidural. It was at that point that they checked me again.
I had gone from 3 to 9 in 20 minutes. There was no time for anything for the pain in any form and I was staring at having the nurses deliver my baby in the face.
At 5:40am my water broke and at about that time I think it was, the doctor hit the door at a dead run. I was out of my head in pain and the pressure was ungodly. I had to have her completely natural. Nothing else could be done. The doctor tried to give me locals as fast as he could, and got most of the bottom half down there numbed, but she was coming to fast for him to get it all numbed.
The nurses had my legs and were trying to reach my ears with my knees it felt like. I pushed until I thought I was going to pass out. The doctor saw that I was about to rip, and tried to make a clean cut for me, but again, she was coming to fast. Her head was there before he could get the incision made. I ripped.
It was at the point that she got stuck for the first time. Right around her head, she was born with a crown of bruises right round her head.
They managed to get her head out, then her shoulders got stuck. The doctor sounded panicy when he kept repeating, "She's stuck!"
At that point, I had 3 nurses and the doctor compressing and bouncing on my uterus until I threw up on myself. I was empty, so it was just stomach acid. I couldn't catch my breath after that and they were still all over me crushing me. They had my legs spread and pulled back until I thought they were going to break. It felt like I was ripped in two and I screamed and just knew one of us was going to die before this was over.
Finally, her shoulders made it out and of course the rest came no problem at 6:10am. The cord was wrapped around her head. They rushed her over to the little table and went to work on her because she was not breathing. I couldn't move even my head and I couldn't get anyone to tell me what was wrong. I kept asking Joe why I didn't hear her crying. He just kept telling me it was ok.
I managed to get my head turned and NICU staff had come in. Not ever a good sign. She had about 10 people around her at this point. I knew then something was wrong. I told Joe, "Too many people, what's wrong with her?" He said, "She's just having a lil trouble breathing." He was so awesome and stayed so calm. Wouldn't have made it without him.
That was the longest minute of, my life waiting for her to breathe. Then they had to watch her so closely that we didn't get to hold her for hours after she was born. Aside from the bruising her health seemed ok.
However, they decided to xray her shoulders since she was stuck so very badly. It turns out that she has a fractured clavical. We have to keep her right arm tucked close to her body until it heals. It has made dressing her very difficult and I usually cry when I have to do it, it kills my heart, but we manage.
We spent a very restless night in the hospital. Then they actually offered to let us go home. Well against my better judgement, driven by my desire to be home and my hate of hospitals, I said, "Sure."
That night I started retaining fluid in a serious way. I have been back to the hospital twice since I had her. My blood pressure is up to a not so healthy degree and they are not sure what they want to do with me yet, but I keep talking my way out of being readmitted.
In addition, I'm ripped from front to back, stitched inside and out. I have no idea how many stitches in all. You can only see about 6 are so real easily from the outside. It's the inside that's worse.
My abdomine feels like someone took a tire tool to it. That's still not the worst of it. I found out last night through an xray at the ER why it is that I am still in such ungodly pain that I can barely move. I have had a peripartum pubic separation or diastasis pubis. Essentially, from the assistance we required during delivery, the cartiledge that holds the 2 halves of my pubic bone together have somewhat separated. Not quite a broken pelvis, but close. A bone deep bruised pelvis that's for sure.
So Hannah and I have both been beaten, battered, broken, and bruised through this ordeal, but we are as ok as can be expected under the circumstances. I guess that's what a 2 hour and 10 minute labor and delivery with crappy care will do for you huh? At least we both survived, so far. Jury is still out on me and my blood pressure and the full body edema I suffer from.
We all 3 slept in the bed that first night home. I'm usually against that due to the risk to the baby, but I can't help it. After what she and I and Joe too have been thru, I can't let her away from me even to sleep. I can't stand for other people to hold her other than Joe. Not even my mother or my sister. Protective doesn't even come close. I almost feel obsessed.
Joe and I held each other and cried that first night, and have cried other times since. It's just a lot to take in and think about when you stop and realize all of the "what ifs."
It didn't help with what the doctor had to say the day after we delivered. He came to me and discussed how scarey it all was and how much she and I would hurt. We feel like train wrecks basically. He also asked me if I planned to have any other children. I said no. He said, "Good, because if you had, 'Yes.' I would have to advise against it, because each time you have a baby, the next one averages about 4 oz more than the previous one, and had Hannah been 4 oz more than she was the outcome would've been much worse."
Basically one or both of us could very well have died. It was more than a lil tense as it was. With only 2 hours of labor and delivery to work with, there is not a lot of wiggle room for error. We have to thank God that it turned out as well as it did in spite of the beating we took.
We are starting to get a bit of a routine going. Joe has been an absolute angel. I can hardly get up out of a chair, but when I do he is always right there. He has changed more diapers and washed more bottles than I have at this point. We each sleep on a couch at night, since we found out I can't really get in and out of the bed with out wanting to pass out from the pain. Hannah sleeps in my arms and Joe gets up with us to help take care of her as I am barely even able to lift my own child.
He goes back to work Monday. We are trying to figure out what we are going to do and how we are going to work around that. Since some of our friends seem to consider us "fair weather friends" we aren't going to ask for help from those who we consider our friends. We would not want to further encourage this opinion of us. That's leaves me in the hands of my mother I guess. That ought to just be great for my blood pressure, but can't be helped.
It really hurts that on top of everything we have been going thru during this entire pregnancy, some people just wouldn't take our situation into account I guess. No, we have not been the most social of peoples this past year, but come on, I think we have a really good excuse. But oh well...
Anyways, that's pretty much letting everyone have an update on things. I have sat here so long I'll likely want to cry when I stand, but that's parr for the course these days.
We are still somewhat in shock I think, and still not feeling the most social, but it's getting better. I think most of it now is my over protectiveness of Hannah and my pain.
I'm almost out of my painkillers and they have not said anything about a refill, so with a "broken ass" I can't say I'm very impressed. Joe wants to cry for me sometimes I think when he can see me and tell the meds are wearing off. He feels helpless in some ways I guess though he shouldn't. He's my angel.
Hope everyone is doing ok. Take care all.
Laters!