Brie Fit

I guess this isn’t really his birth story anymore, since he’s been born and all already, but I wanted to write down what happened in the hospital after his birth, mostly to remember it for myself later on.

Once Charlie was born, and I was appropriately medically stable, the doctor left and the nurses cleaned up a bit.  The nurse on duty at the time, Connie, told me that I could take as long as I needed in the labor and delivery room before I’d be moved to the mother and baby side of the floor (with a comfortable bed!).  They took Charlie from me after a few minutes of skin-to-skin to check his Apgars and such and then gave him back to me for awhile.

Since it was around 9 o’clock at night and I was starving from not eating for almost 24 hours, we decided that we would send Charlie to the nursery for awhile to get fully checked out while Tim went to get food for us.  (Steak and Shake.  And yes, I got the shake, and it was amazing.)

So we ate, and called all the relevant parties.  Then the nurse came in with a bag full of super amazing supplies and took me to the bathroom.  I remember that she wanted to pee, but I couldn’t because everything was so swollen.  Oddly enough, she thought that the remedy for this was peppermint essential oils dripped in the toilet, but, it didn’t work.  I really loved the hospital’s policies on being fairly crunchy and the like, but this one was a head-scratcher.  I just wanted to get moved over to the other side of the floor so I could see Charlie again and get some sleep…not sniff peppermint oil out of a bloody toilet.  But I digress.

Eventually we agreed that peeing wouldn’t happen right then, so we made up a giant happiness pad sandwich (mesh underwear, puppy pee pad, regular pad, ice pack pad, Tucks pads, EpiFoam) and were on our way to the other side of the birthing center to get settled in our new room.

Tim and I don’t totally remember what went on in what order at that point, but they brought Charlie back to me all clean and dressed and we started breastfeeding at that point.  Obviously, he wasn’t getting much, but he latched well and right away.  We spent some time taking pictures of him, but at that point it was after midnight and we were all exhausted.  We decided to send Charlie to the nursery for the night so we could both recover, which was a great choice.  That night, I THINK they brought him to me twice to breastfeed.

Since Charlie was born on Tuesday night, if all went well (and it did) we would be discharged Thursday.  Wednesday is all a bit of a blur to me, honestly.  It was so lovely just having that day just the three of us together.  We met Charlie’s pediatrician, who confirmed he’s perfect, and my OB came to check up on everything.  I also had nurses checking our vitals off and on all day.  That night, some sweet friends brought us dinner in the hospital and we got to visit with them.

On Thursday, we both got one final check and were able to go home. (Yes, the car seat strap LOOKS loose in that picture but I assure you it was just a bad angle.  They wouldn’t have let us go if it was.)

As far as MY physical recovery, it hasn’t been bad at all.  I’m sore, but it gets better every day.  The first night in the hospital, I took Tylenol + Codeine and Motrin for swelling.  The second night, I took Norco and Motrin.  After that, I’ve just been on a steady diet of Motrin for swelling and now, to relieve the pain of engorgement.  Every night I soak my stitches in a warm bath, too.  Bleeding has slowed but is still kind of nasty. 

Honestly, the worst part of recovery has been my emotions—I have been a complete and utter basketcase.  I go wildly from being completely fine to sobbing.  I feel elated and happy one minute, and completely overwhelmed and anxious another.  I worry about weird things about whether visiting family members are enjoying themselves, or whether my body will ever look and feel normal again,  According to the follow-up visit nurse, this is totally normal, but if it continues past two weeks I’ll be talking to my doctor about post-partum depression and/or anxiety.  It’s not exactly a pretty topic, but I am definitely aware it’s out there and if it does become an issue for me I want to get help sooner rather than later.

The pets are adjusting well and don’t seem to even really notice the changes.  Buckley kind of has his hackles up, but that’s normal whenever there’s a lot of activity and strangers around. 

Thus far, Charlie has been great.  He sleeps a lot, seems to love breastfeeding, and really only gets fussy in the evenings.  I don’t really have much of a parenting strategy at this point other than to cuddle him and let him nurse for comfort as much as possible.  It’s not bad.

I don’t know how much I’ll be around in the coming weeks, since Charlie is #1 and we have a lot of visitors trickling through.  Just FYI if I go missing!

All in all, the last week has easily been the most significant of my entire life.  I get overwhelmed thinking about just how…big…this whole parenthood deal is.  I am so madly in love with Charlie, and seeing Tim become a father just makes me want to explode with happiness.  I can’t wait to see what the next weeks and months bring!

Every pregnant lady does one.  Why should I be any different?

Anyway, this is my shot-in-the-dark attempt to pack for the hospital.  I’m 36 weeks now, so, you know, go time is in the horrifyingly imminent future. 

I cobbled this all together from recommendations from friends, the hospital’s suggestions, and various blog lists.

First things first—we are not really duffel bag people.  This is a medium size wheely suitcase, with one half dedicated to Tim/food, and one half dedicated to me.  We are also bringing the diaper bag with baby stuff in it.

Tim’s side (which I packed for him, you’re welcome):

Top to bottom, we have:

• Comfy man shorts
• Extra t-shirts
• Socks
• Swim trunks (in case I want him to get in the giant birthing room shower with me, and/or need him to rescue me out of it)
• Ziploc bag filled with snacks.  Our hospital doesn’t really permit food beyond clear liquid during labor, but Tim might get hungry and I’ll be there two days. Plus, we walked by the cafeteria and it smelled awful, so I’m going to guess I might get hungry at some point.  Snacks include:
• Peanut butter crackers
• Pretzels
• Mini-bags of cookies (I am pretty sure I will deserve a damn cookie after birth)
• Fruit leather
• Clif Shot Blocks (kind of like clear liquid, right?  Might get snuck in if I get starving during labor)
• Packets of almond butter (ditto)
• Trail mix
• Camera charger

My side of the bag:

Again, roughly top to bottom:

• “Sleep wrap” from Target—super comfy, was on clearance, figure it will be nice to throw on over a nursing tank if I decide to ditch the hospital gown later on
• Hair dryer—they don’t have them at the hospital and my hair is not air-dry friendly
• Slippers
• Pajama pants
• T-shirt for going home (it fit me until about 23w pregnant, so I’m hoping it will work)
• Nursing tank
• Toiletry bag, including:
• Shampoo
• Conditioner
• Body wash
• Lotion
• Razor
• Toothpaste
• Contacts (I wear daily disposables)
• Hair ties
• Headbands (a Sweaty Band and a Bondi Band)
• Nursing pads
• Socks
• Crappy giant underpants
• Robe

Baby’s bag:

• Boppy (the one thing the hospital lactation consultant said to bring)
• Baby book—for footprints/handprints
• Aden and Anais swaddle blanket
• BabyLegs
• Two sleepers
• One newborn sized
• One 0-3 month sized (sidenote: we got this sleeper as a gift and I’m obsessed—it’s super soft and adorable and has fold-over mittens on it)
• Two onesies
• One newborn sized
• One 0-3 month sized (also, in case baby is born on a Mizzou gameday)
• Going home outfit

Things we will need to pack last minute:

• Camera and cord
• Laptop
• Kindle
• Toothbrushes
• Makeup
• Phone chargers
• My glasses
• Hairbrush
• This nursing-friendly sports bra I just ordered that I might want to labor in
• My purse, which will have ID/lip balm/etc in it

And that’s that.

Anything glaringly obvious that I’m forgetting?

Another week, another doctor’s appointment.  Extremely uneventful, everything is normal (which is good!)  Lumpy avoided the Doppler for about ten minutes again–we’d get a snippet of heartbeat and then he’d roll away.  Next week I do hospital pre-registration, and then the week after that is the GBS test (butt q-tip!).  So, basically, since my doctor’s office is AT the hospital, I’ll be there every week until the bitter end.

We went to a breastfeeding class at the hospital.  It seemed moderately helpful.  I think the most useful part of it was meeting the hospital’s board-certified lactation consultant and confirming that she does, in fact, seem to know what she’s talking about.  The power went out at the end because of storms, so we missed having a Q&A session.  For what it’s worth, she recommends bringing a Boppy or Brest Friend pillow to the hospital with you, but says the hospital will have everything else (nipple shields, lanolin, pumps) in case troubleshooting is necessary.

(We have a Boppy.  It was a hand-me-down so I didn’t have much say in the matter, which is fine by me because hey, free stuff, but I just can’t bring myself to purchase a Brest Friend pillow because of the stupid name.  Sorry.)

Randoms:

• I want sweets, all the time.  In the beginning of pregnancy, I craved salt.  Now all I want is sugar!  Specifically, cake (half chocolate, half yellow, with my mom’s buttercream frosting), cupcakes (peanut butter stuffed chocolate), pastries (cherry cheese Danishes), and milkshakes (that strawberry milkshake on the Sonic billboard on my way to and from work).  I’m trying to not indulge TOO much, but man, I want to.
• The nursery will be DONE today.  I will post the full photo tour this week!  I adore it and I go in every night before bed and sit in the glider and, you know, discuss things with the baby and all.
• Things to buy before birth: video monitor, breast pump, freezer foods, giant pads, copious amount of snack food, pedicure/haircut/eyebrow wax, something to wear in newborn pictures (for me AND him), burp cloths, coffee
• Started the 100 squats a day challenge.  Success!  I do four sets of 25 with a short break in between.
• I am exhausted.  Way more than I was in the first trimester.  I yawn all day long and have taken a few post-work naps, although I try to avoid them because then I don’t sleep as well at night when I do.  I think the difference is that in first tri, you’re exhausted, but you can go to sleep and wake up feeling reasonably refreshed.  In third tri, comfortable sleep is hard to come by, what with the sciatic pain and the inability to roll over easily and the having to pee at least twice thing, so I never REALLY feel refreshed.
• This baby is really starting to feel imminent.  Like, not abstract anymore—we are going to have an real live baby in our house in the next 3-7 weeks (assuming I deliver between 38-42 weeks at full term).  Because of that, I’m kind of indulging in some things I won’t be able to do as much after the baby is here—going out with friends, napping when the urge strikes me, going for pedicures, long hot baths, etc.  It’s nice.
• Braxton-Hicks contractions are becoming more noticeable.  I mostly notice them in the middle of the night or in the morning, when I’m dehydrated, so I’m trying to drink plenty of water.

35 weeks tomorrow…35 days until my due date!  Eep!

So, before you proceed further, I am going to warn you that this post talks about things like blood, and lots of blood, and possibly pee, and what it is physically like to have a miscarriage.  And I might talk about things like my uterus and bladder and other lady bits.  Proceed at your own risk.

On Monday, Tim went back to work because I was feeling pretty good, physically.   I had started bleeding on Sunday.  It has picked up a bit throughout the day, but was never heavier than your standard bad period.  Monday morning, I bled pretty heavily, and passed what I thought was a significant amount of tissue.  Throughout the day on Monday, the bleeding slowed up some and I felt pretty great. 

So, I did what any person moving in thirty days (hopefully) would do—laundry, and attempt to go through the closets and throw away some things that we didn’t need.  Apparently, that was a mistake, because by late Monday afternoon, I began cramping and bleeding more and more.

By the time Tim got home from work Monday, and we were placating trick-or-treaters with candy, I was bleeding more than I ever could have imagined.  It continued to get worse and worse until I basically sitting on the toilet gushing blood.  (Happy Halloween, right?)

I called my midwife and she said that if I was soaking more than a pad an hour (an impossible gauge, really, when you can’t get off the damn toilet) for three or more hours, that I needed to go to the nearest ER.

Three hours hit and there was no end in sight so Tim rushed me to the nearest ER.

I nearly turned around and walked out when the triage nurse asked helpful questions like, “Is that a medication?” in response to me stating that I have a serious allergy to a class of antibiotics, and “Do you have a medical history?”  (No, bud.  This is my first time at the doctor.  Who are you?)

Because we had the option to either laugh hysterically or break down in tears, Tim and I just started cracking up.  Which led to the most massive amount of blood I’ve ever seen.  Luckily, that guy was the only questionable employee we saw the entire time.

Anyway.  They finally got me into a room in the ER, and god bless the ER doctor.  She was a complete godsend.  She knew exactly what to say (“I’m so sorry,” and “This is not your fault”) and was amazingly even-keel and calm.

She gave me a pelvic exam and attempted to clean things out a bit manually.  We were then told to wait an hour, and they’d do another pelvic to see if it had slowed and I could go home.

By this point, it was after midnight and we were both exhausted.  Tim snoozed in a chair while I read a book, and felt things distinctly…not slow down.

The second pelvic exam was a nightmare.  Not because the staff wasn’t skilled and kind, because they were, but because the amount of blood was so staggering I heard the doctor say things like “we should call housekeeping ASAP” and “this light is going to be need to be sent out for deep cleaning.”  And I’m pretty sure I ruined the doctor’s scrub pants.  There was a lot of gushing.  They decided I was going to be admitted as soon as they took a look, but attempted again to clean things out with great vigor.

We waited for awhile after this and I finally agreed to take pain meds for the cramping and anti-emetics for the nausea that accompanied them..  The pain was sporadic, but I felt like I could take until that point, when I just kind of gave up and knew I wasn’t going home.  The drugs were amazing and I felt extremely sleepy by the time I was wheeled up to my room.

The nurse upstairs checked me in and I promptly went to sleep and sent Tim home to tend to the dog.  Sleep in a hospital is kind of non-existent, though.  I was admitted around 2:30, and had a visitor at 4 to check my blood pressure, and a visitor at 5 to take some blood, and another blood pressure check at 6. 

Tim returned around 7.  Where we took the standard “this sucks” photo.

Tuesday was a blur.  I tweeted some, but I was not allowed any food or drink (sucky).  I was on IV fluids the whole day, and had another dose of pain meds in the morning.  The bleeding had slowed some, but was still going on, and it’s really hard to…take care of that…with an IV pole in your arm. 

In the morning, I met with the on call OB/GYN (who was also great, and wearing a Mizzou jacket and therefore trustworthy) who said our options at that point all hinged on the results of a pelvic ultrasound.  If my ute appeared empty, I could go home; if there was a little stuff remaining, I could get pills to help expel it naturally; if there was a lot, the best option would be a D&C, where they surgically evacuate the contents of my uterus.
At about 1 or 2, they decided they needed to give me a catheter to properly inflate my bladder for the ultrasound.  Except everything down there was so swollen it took three (painful) tries and a special kind of tip to get things in.  I never want to do that again.

The ultrasound tech was wonderful and basically told me that I hadn’t passed the sac as I thought I had, and that I still had a vigorous bit of lining remaining.  We waited (and waited, and waited) for the OB/GYN to come meet with us all afternoon (because he was delivering babies, sigh), and I started losing it a bit mentally.  Thanks to the catheter, I was unable to move much and there wasn’t a great way to deal with the bleeding.   I started to lose it during an episode of Antiques Roadshow.

Finally, the doctor came in and told me what we already knew—that there was a lot left.  He said he’d still be fine with me trying the drugs, but he felt the D&C was extremely safe and hinted strongly that it was probably our best option.  Even if I had opted for the drugs, there was a 30% or so chance I’d need a D&C later eventually.  At that point I was so exhausted physically and emotionally, after a week of waiting and three days of horrific bleeding, that we decided to go for the D&C.  I just could not stomach the idea of more blood, and going home to play the “will it work?” waiting game again.

I was wheeled down to surgery and was handled by two extremely kind, compassionate nurses.  I had trouble holding back tears as they prepped me, and when one nurse asked, “No, how are you DOING?” I lost it for a brief moment.  Even though I was confident it was the best decision, damn, it still hurts to realize this is the real, true end of the tiny creature we’d loved for the last fifty days.

Thankfully, the surgery was uneventful and quick.  I remember blathering on about how the nurses should get raises and I wanted a milkshake on the way out as I was waking up from the anesthesia.  The only pain I had was from the anesthesia tube down my throat—it’s still feeling scratchy today.  It was a very easy procedure, and for that I am grateful.

This morning, I feel wobbly and swollen.  I’m still on strong pain meds, as well as the cramping meds that were discussed pre-surgery.  I’ve set myself up a nice little bed on the couch and will probably take a nap as soon as I hit publish.

I wasn’t sure whether to blog the gory details of this, but then I decided (as I usually do) that there’s not much point to hiding it.

Thankfully, I have an excellent blog helper to stop my tears when I’m feeling sad writing this.

It deserves mention that throughout this all, Tim was amazing.  He got maybe 3 or 4 hours of sleep the whole time, but was there for me throughout without batting an eyelash.

And thank you for all your support through this terrible ordeal.  I am glad to be able to say definitively that it is over, at least physically.

Time for a nap.