Part two has been a long time coming, but I have good reason! Not only have we been adjusting to life with a third kiddo in the house, but I've also had LOTS of visitors. So here's the rest of the story (I hope).
If you remember, I mentioned that I agreed to do a Clomid Challenge test with my ob/gyn to assess the quality/quantity of my egg supply. I wasn't overly worried about it - I was busy working 4 jobs, not including the job of wife & mother, and didn't really have time to worry! But the day the doctor called with the results it was very obvious that the news was not good. His tone of voice told me before he did that it didn't look good. I was told that the only way we'd be able to have more children was if we did InVitro Fertilization with donor eggs - that mine were no good.
I don't remember exactly what happened next - I don't remember if I was crying before or after I hung up the phone. I don't remember if I called Alan and told him or if I just sent him an instant message. I do remember lots of crying. Sobbing, really. I vividly remember sitting at my desk in my home office unable to catch my breath because I was crying so hard. I finally got it together enough to say a very long, heartfelt prayer - I knew it was the only way I'd get through the day. Not only did I have work at home to finish, but I had to physically go to work (another job) that afternoon. I needed the strength to get through the day and I knew it wasn't going to come from me - I was emotionally spent.
Thankfully the Lord stepped in and seriously carried me through the rest of that day. He also prompted me to immediately seek a second opinion - to finally get myself to a fertility specialist (also known as a Reproductive Endocrinologist or RE). I'd had appointments with them before, but had to cancel them due to insurance or financial issues. My sweet ob/gyn sat on the phone with me as we went through every RE on my insurance list, giving me his opinion as to where he thought my best fit would be. I am forever grateful for the time he took out of his day for me.
That horrible day occurred January 15, 2008.
To illustrate miracles . . . I had a positive pregnancy test on March 22, 2008 which resulted in our little Caroline.
And while I could say that was the end of the story - it isn't, really. Having two kids 10 years apart has had its own challenges. One of the more odd ones is that I still didn't feel like a normal mom - my experiences were still very different than those of my friends. I went from not fitting in because I only had one child to not fitting in because my two children were so far apart in age. So for 2+ years I felt almost like I fit in and yet I didn't really feel I did. I had two kids, but it was really like I had two families of one kid each. There was still so much I could not relate to or subjects I couldn't really join in on because I did not have experience with two kids close together in age . . . and there were times I still felt like I was in between worlds - the world of the infertile woman and the world of mother.
And then we headed in for another round of infertility treatments in April/May of 2010, hoping we'd be able to finally have something resembling the family we'd both pictured in our mind for years. Quite frankly, I was shocked when the treatments worked! And now we have our baby Henry.
I won't pretend I didn't get a little annoyed with all the comments about how I'll finally know what it feels like to have kids close in age or how I finally get to deal with all of those horrible things - like fighting, sibling rivalry, trying to potty train a toddler with a baby running around, etc. etc. etc. Yes, I am starting to learn for myself what that is all about. And there are days I feel like I want to pull my hair out. But then there is that part of me that smiles when both little ones are screaming because I finally have that in my life. Finally I can join in conversations, maybe not right now - but soon, about all of the things those "real moms" have talked about for years. In so many ways, I finally feel like a "real mom," even though I know I've been a mom for over 12 years.
(And today is one of those days that I needed to post this so I could remember to be grateful for the screaming toddler, the unpredictable newborn, and the hormonal teenager that were all making me crazy! They are all blessings, right? Right!)
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Infertility & Motherhood (Part One)
You would think that since I've had three kids now this whole "mom" thing would be old hat. However, my journey through the realms of motherhood has been colored with infertility, which makes everything different.
Soren's first year of life was fabulous. He was a great infant and an energetic toddler. I was juggling school and some part time work and Alan wasn't home a lot (he was juggling work and part time school), but we made it. I remember chasing him around the house, playing outside in the fall leaves, filling up the swimming pool in the backyard and letting him run around naked in the summer . . . lots of smiles. But by the time he turned two, we headed to our first specialist appointment to figure out why, after a year of trying, we did not have a new baby on the way. Unfortunately for all of us, the rest of Soren's young years would be tarnished by the tears, stress, anxiety, and frustration of infertility.
There were days when I would grab hold of Soren and never want to let go - wondering if he'd be our only child and wanting to cherish every second I had with him. There were other days when I wanted to be left alone in my misery, crying and pleading with God - wondering what I had done wrong in my life, in my marriage, or in my parenting that God was keeping us from having more children. It was a tough time - especially the first 4 years. I remember sending Soren off to kindergarten and forcing myself to take on a project (painting the interior of our house) to keep myself from sobbing. It wasn't supposed to be like that - I wasn't supposed to be putting my oldest child on the bus and coming home to an empty house. That wasn't the plan - that wasn't supposed to be my life.
I was stuck in this weird place. I didn't belong with the infertile women - I had a child. How could I possibly relate to those that had none at all? And I wasn't a full fledged mom because I only had one and couldn't possibly understand what it was like to juggle a household of children. I didn't have 2-3 kids screaming for my attention or fighting with each other. I didn't understand. No one purposely left me out (to my knowledge), but I felt very isolated.
The isolation increased once we moved to Washington, DC. At this point, Soren was in school all day, so I wasn't invited to any of the mommy groups, trips to the park, etc. (though I don't know if I would have gone anyway). All the women my age were in those groups and I was on the outside. It was a very difficult time for me and I slipped in to what was probably my worst depression to date. I felt as though I had no friends, no connections, no one to relate to or confide in that would remotely understand what I was feeling.
Secondary infertility (unable to conceive after the birth of one or more children) blows. The pain is different from primary infertility (unable to conceive and carry a child to term). I would NEVER say it was worse, it's just different. You just don't fit anywhere. Or, at least, you don't feel like you fit. I never felt like a real mom because there were too many times I'd actually be talking to other mothers and they'd invalidate my opinion (not in a purposely mean way) because I only had one child. That was hard to deal with because in so many ways, I didn't feel like a mom. I didn't have the full picture of motherhood, just a small piece of it. It made those moments where I did actually have a conversation with another mom tainted with feelings of inadequacy. I might technically be a mom, but I wasn't a real mom.
There came a point around the time that Soren turned 8 that I think Alan and I accepted our fate. We'd done 6 cycles of Clomid and none were remotely successful. We decided to put it all behind us and just move forward and enjoy the family we had, however small it was. We started talking about all the benefits of having only one child. Believe me, when you sit down and think about it, the list can get pretty long! And, as a result, our attitudes started to shift. I started being more open to talking about our situation and not being ashamed of it - it was just fact now. I started to embrace who I was, accept it, and move forward. It was during this time that I started to love me. And wow, did I need that! Infertility taught me many things, but most of all it forced me to confront me, accept me, and love me.
When Soren was 9 1/2, I went into my ob/gyn for my annual checkup. He brought up Clomid again and, on a whim, I agreed to do what is called a Clomid Challenge Test to determine egg quality and quantity. This is when our world took a huge turn. This test would forever change our lives and our family. And, seeing as Henry is about to wake up again, I'm going to have to leave the rest of this story for another day.
But getting just that much out has been very cathartic.
Soren's first year of life was fabulous. He was a great infant and an energetic toddler. I was juggling school and some part time work and Alan wasn't home a lot (he was juggling work and part time school), but we made it. I remember chasing him around the house, playing outside in the fall leaves, filling up the swimming pool in the backyard and letting him run around naked in the summer . . . lots of smiles. But by the time he turned two, we headed to our first specialist appointment to figure out why, after a year of trying, we did not have a new baby on the way. Unfortunately for all of us, the rest of Soren's young years would be tarnished by the tears, stress, anxiety, and frustration of infertility.
There were days when I would grab hold of Soren and never want to let go - wondering if he'd be our only child and wanting to cherish every second I had with him. There were other days when I wanted to be left alone in my misery, crying and pleading with God - wondering what I had done wrong in my life, in my marriage, or in my parenting that God was keeping us from having more children. It was a tough time - especially the first 4 years. I remember sending Soren off to kindergarten and forcing myself to take on a project (painting the interior of our house) to keep myself from sobbing. It wasn't supposed to be like that - I wasn't supposed to be putting my oldest child on the bus and coming home to an empty house. That wasn't the plan - that wasn't supposed to be my life.
I was stuck in this weird place. I didn't belong with the infertile women - I had a child. How could I possibly relate to those that had none at all? And I wasn't a full fledged mom because I only had one and couldn't possibly understand what it was like to juggle a household of children. I didn't have 2-3 kids screaming for my attention or fighting with each other. I didn't understand. No one purposely left me out (to my knowledge), but I felt very isolated.
The isolation increased once we moved to Washington, DC. At this point, Soren was in school all day, so I wasn't invited to any of the mommy groups, trips to the park, etc. (though I don't know if I would have gone anyway). All the women my age were in those groups and I was on the outside. It was a very difficult time for me and I slipped in to what was probably my worst depression to date. I felt as though I had no friends, no connections, no one to relate to or confide in that would remotely understand what I was feeling.
Secondary infertility (unable to conceive after the birth of one or more children) blows. The pain is different from primary infertility (unable to conceive and carry a child to term). I would NEVER say it was worse, it's just different. You just don't fit anywhere. Or, at least, you don't feel like you fit. I never felt like a real mom because there were too many times I'd actually be talking to other mothers and they'd invalidate my opinion (not in a purposely mean way) because I only had one child. That was hard to deal with because in so many ways, I didn't feel like a mom. I didn't have the full picture of motherhood, just a small piece of it. It made those moments where I did actually have a conversation with another mom tainted with feelings of inadequacy. I might technically be a mom, but I wasn't a real mom.
There came a point around the time that Soren turned 8 that I think Alan and I accepted our fate. We'd done 6 cycles of Clomid and none were remotely successful. We decided to put it all behind us and just move forward and enjoy the family we had, however small it was. We started talking about all the benefits of having only one child. Believe me, when you sit down and think about it, the list can get pretty long! And, as a result, our attitudes started to shift. I started being more open to talking about our situation and not being ashamed of it - it was just fact now. I started to embrace who I was, accept it, and move forward. It was during this time that I started to love me. And wow, did I need that! Infertility taught me many things, but most of all it forced me to confront me, accept me, and love me.
When Soren was 9 1/2, I went into my ob/gyn for my annual checkup. He brought up Clomid again and, on a whim, I agreed to do what is called a Clomid Challenge Test to determine egg quality and quantity. This is when our world took a huge turn. This test would forever change our lives and our family. And, seeing as Henry is about to wake up again, I'm going to have to leave the rest of this story for another day.
But getting just that much out has been very cathartic.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Blessed
If I stop to think about all the blessings that have flooded our lives over the past 6 months or so, I start to get all teary eyed. But I often find myself stopping and thinking about them and then I have to pull myself together or I'll be in a pool of tears - but at least they are happy tears! :)
When we arrived home on the 6th, we were brought dinner by someone from our church. This continued for days on end. In fact, we have only had one night where someone didn't bring us dinner since our return. How blessed are we?? It's been so nice to not have to worry about dinners, especially as Alan has had to take over everything around the house, for the most part. He's enjoyed the break from cooking.
I continue to thank my Heavenly Father for the job that Alan has now. It was a long road getting there, but the blessings are overwhelming. He was given the entire first week of Henry's life off from work - paid and none of it counted against his vacation time. As a results, he was able to be at the hospital with me every day and night. This past week he was allowed to work from home OR take a vacation day - depending on what we needed on our end. How fabulous is this job?!?! As an added bonus, he really does like it there and, if I haven't mentioned before, it's 2.5 miles from our front door. Goodness sakes with the blessings!
And as if all of that wasn't enough, I have had a flood of visitors - usually at least one per day - who come to chat, hold the baby, and keep me from feeling isolated from the outside world. One visitor is a sweet friend from middle school who I hadn't actually seen since I was 16! (LOVE FACEBOOK!!) I also have two dear brothers & their families who I know are there to help if I call (and have helped already). I have a sister who is coming to help me the last week of this month and another who is going to try and come as soon as she is able. I also have a dear friend who is ready and willing to come as well, we are just figuring out logistics. The love I have felt since Henry joined our family is seriously overwhelming. But I'm handling it just fine, thank you very much! Haha!
Henry is an absolute joy. Again, we have been very blessed to have a new baby who allows me to sleep for 2+ hours at a time (sometimes even 4!), who eats well and consistently, who poops and pees just like he is supposed to, and who rarely cries. After my sweet Caroline put me through the ringer with all of the above, I seriously am close to tears when I think about how good Henry is. If I had a difficult baby on top of a c-section, I dunno what I would do. I'd handle it, I'm sure . . but I'm glad that, at this point, I don't have to figure out how I'd handle it. Haha!
I'm also very blessed to have a wonderful husband who has sacrificed basically his entire life the past two weeks to turn himself into Mr. Mom as well as caretaker of Mommy. He makes sure I'm fed, well-rested, and not doing too much. He lets me watch Gilmore Girls ad nauseam. Basically he really is my knight in shining armor and I love him. :)
Soren & Caroline are adjusting to things as best as they can. Soren's schedule hasn't been disrupted too much, so he's plugging along, trying to get in time with his new little brother as much as he can. Caroline is slowly adjusting to the new presence in the house, though she has yet to hug, hold, or kiss him. Baby steps.
Overall, I am feeling so much love and so many blessings it's kind of ridiculous. But in a good way. :)
When we arrived home on the 6th, we were brought dinner by someone from our church. This continued for days on end. In fact, we have only had one night where someone didn't bring us dinner since our return. How blessed are we?? It's been so nice to not have to worry about dinners, especially as Alan has had to take over everything around the house, for the most part. He's enjoyed the break from cooking.
I continue to thank my Heavenly Father for the job that Alan has now. It was a long road getting there, but the blessings are overwhelming. He was given the entire first week of Henry's life off from work - paid and none of it counted against his vacation time. As a results, he was able to be at the hospital with me every day and night. This past week he was allowed to work from home OR take a vacation day - depending on what we needed on our end. How fabulous is this job?!?! As an added bonus, he really does like it there and, if I haven't mentioned before, it's 2.5 miles from our front door. Goodness sakes with the blessings!
And as if all of that wasn't enough, I have had a flood of visitors - usually at least one per day - who come to chat, hold the baby, and keep me from feeling isolated from the outside world. One visitor is a sweet friend from middle school who I hadn't actually seen since I was 16! (LOVE FACEBOOK!!) I also have two dear brothers & their families who I know are there to help if I call (and have helped already). I have a sister who is coming to help me the last week of this month and another who is going to try and come as soon as she is able. I also have a dear friend who is ready and willing to come as well, we are just figuring out logistics. The love I have felt since Henry joined our family is seriously overwhelming. But I'm handling it just fine, thank you very much! Haha!
Henry is an absolute joy. Again, we have been very blessed to have a new baby who allows me to sleep for 2+ hours at a time (sometimes even 4!), who eats well and consistently, who poops and pees just like he is supposed to, and who rarely cries. After my sweet Caroline put me through the ringer with all of the above, I seriously am close to tears when I think about how good Henry is. If I had a difficult baby on top of a c-section, I dunno what I would do. I'd handle it, I'm sure . . but I'm glad that, at this point, I don't have to figure out how I'd handle it. Haha!
I'm also very blessed to have a wonderful husband who has sacrificed basically his entire life the past two weeks to turn himself into Mr. Mom as well as caretaker of Mommy. He makes sure I'm fed, well-rested, and not doing too much. He lets me watch Gilmore Girls ad nauseam. Basically he really is my knight in shining armor and I love him. :)
Soren & Caroline are adjusting to things as best as they can. Soren's schedule hasn't been disrupted too much, so he's plugging along, trying to get in time with his new little brother as much as he can. Caroline is slowly adjusting to the new presence in the house, though she has yet to hug, hold, or kiss him. Baby steps.
Overall, I am feeling so much love and so many blessings it's kind of ridiculous. But in a good way. :)
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Happy New Year & Happy New Baby!
(Warning: This post is long and contains the birth story of our little guy!)
Can I just say I'm glad to see the end of December?? What a month that was! I wanted it to end almost before it started. And now we are in a new month and a new year! As I type this, I am trying to keep my eyes open because I'm sleep deprived and full of drowsy drugs, but I want to get this all down before the memories start to fade.
After an awesome New Year's Eve party and a busy New Year's Day getting bags packed and the house clean, it was almost time to go to the hospital to welcome baby #3 into the world. I debated about going to church on Sunday, as I assumed I'd be up all night and would need some rest, but decided to go and, in the end, am very glad I did!
That night we headed to the hospital leaving our other kiddos in the trusty hands of my amazingly wonderful sister in law, Kim. She is amazing and I love her for taking care of Soren and Caroline for nearly 3 full days!! Plus my other sister in law, Sarah, pitched in as well as my sweet friend (also named Sarah). This doesn't even touch on the number of people who offered to do anything we needed over the week! We are so blessed to have such awesome family and friends!! Ok, that was a tangent - now back to the story of our little guy!
Admission to the hospital went fairly quickly; no pile of paperwork, just a few things here and there. Then the real fun began! Not knowing how many different drugs I might need for delivery, I needed two IVs thingies (catheters?) put in - one in each arm. Last time I needed a butt load of drugs because of all the complications I had, so they wanted to be prepared. It only took two nurses an hour and a half plus the use of an ultrasound machine to be successful. Apparently I have crooked veins. Who knew? I now am sporting some pretty awesome bruises on my left arm, though. Sweet!
After the IV debacle, we settled in for a night of what we hoped would be a progressive induction. Caroline had taken 36 hours to get the hint that it was time for her to come (for her own safety), so I was preparing for things to take at least that long but hoping it wouldn't! Haha . . . be careful what you wish for!! Anyway, the plan was a Miso tablet to help move things along, then another after 3 hours, then we'd move on from there to Pitocin and a baby!
Miso tablets, apparently, cause a lot of cramping. Sleep didn't really happen because every time I'd doze off, I'd wake back up in pain. Not major pain, mind you, but just annoying enough to keep me from sleeping. Then, of course, the nurse came in quite a few times to check baby and blood pressure and all of that fun stuff. After 2 rounds of Miso, it was time to hook up the pitocin. My nurse changed around 7:30am, but not much else changed. I wasn't progressing very quickly, so they were slowly turning up the Pitocin.
Generally I am pretty tolerant of pain, but during labor I feel like a big wuss. The sooner I can get something to stop the pain, the happier I am. However, no matter how many times and ways I mentioned that I would sure like something for the pain, I didn't get anything. Finally the doctor arrived to assess the situation and I asked her what the general protocol was for giving me drugs. After checking to see how baby was progressing, she told me she wanted his head to be a little closer to the exit before we put in the epidural. I trusted her opinion (she's a great doctor from what I've been able to ascertain), so I went with it.
Shortly thereafter I began to disagree.
I've been induced with each of my pregnancies, so I've done the whole Pitocin thing before. I know that the pain associated with Pitocin (and labor in general haha) sucks, but I was experiencing some nasty, nasty pain. With Caroline, my epidural stopped working 45 minutes before she was born and I went through the final bit of labor without anything to kill or dull the pain. The contractions I was feeling this time were more painful than that. I'd get one contraction, it would start to fade and then before it went away, another one started. Then I'd get about 20-30 seconds before it all started again. This is when I started whining to the nurse! Around 11:30am, after watching me and my contractions disagree for quite a while, she turned the Pitocin down. It was heaven! For all of 5 minutes, anyway. I was expressing my joy at the relief when I felt something familiar. I looked at the nurse and told her I was pretty sure my water had just broken.
Hooray!
Except then I was worried that I'd have to do the labor without drugs again because after my water broke with Caroline, she came VERY quickly! I braced myself for it, but after the nurse checked things out, she looked slightly concerned. She told us there was some blood and she wanted to check with the doctor on the next step. After maybe 2 minutes, she came back in and that's when the crazy started. Apparently I was dripping blood - everywhere. I couldn't see it (thank GOODNESS!!!), but there was blood all over my bed and literally streaming onto the floor, creating a puddle.
The look on the nurses face told me that things were not good. And suddenly there were at least 6 other people in the room. I had an anesthesiologist in my face (his name was Doug and he was super nice, actually) going through the risks and warnings, I had my nurse telling me they were doing a c-section asap, I had a doctor (not mine, of course - she was already in surgery) telling me her name - which I promptly forgot - and saying she'd be performing the surgery, there were papers being tossed in my face to sign, and then I was being rapidly wheeled down halls to an operating room.
By this time I had lost so much blood I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. I tried to do what they told me to so I could get the spinal block and they wouldn't have to knock me out completely. If there was one thing I remembered from the anesthesiologist, it was that if they had to knock me out completely, Alan would not be able to be there with me. I was not ok with this and I knew he'd be pretty upset as well. Thank goodness I was coherent enough to get the spinal block! Before I knew what was happening, the nurses and Alan were trying to inform me that our baby was here.
And he was beautiful.
Our little guy, Henry Alan Tullis!!!
Arrival date: 1/3/11
Arrival time: 12:21pm
Weight: 7lbs, 3oz
Height: 21 1/2 inches
I wish I'd been more coherent . . . I was too weak to even hold him - I didn't trust myself, but I gave him a kiss and told him I loved him. At that point I just wanted to sleep. The nurses needed to take Henry to the nursery because his blood sugar was a little low (and I was in no position to feed him! Haha!) and he was having a little bit of trouble fully figuring out the whole breathing thing. Alan stayed with me while they finished with the surgery. I think it was at that point that the doctor told us that my placenta was torn and that's where all the blood was coming from. Later we were told that it wasn't a "traditional" tear - the placenta hadn't pulled away from the uterine wall or anything, it had just torn during labor. Apparently this happens in less than 2% of pregnancies. I'm telling you, my luck with medical stuff is amazing!!!
Anyway, after they sewed me all up, I was wheeled over to a recovery room where I shook so much I think I caused a minor earthquake. I remember shaking a lot after my Gallbladder surgery, but this seemed more intense. They finally gave me some Demerol and the shaking went away. After about an hour hanging out in recovery with both my nurse (KC was her name, by the way) and our friend anesthesiologist, Doug, they finally let me go back to my room. I think I slept, but I can't really remember.
After over 6 hours, the nursery finally released Henry and he came into the room. I held him and didn't want to put him down or share or anything!!
We were blessed with many visitors at the hospital, but two of our favorites were Soren and Caroline.
Overall, the nurses and doctors were impressed with my recovery. My doctor was almost certain I would need a blood transfusion, but I was very blessed and my red blood count did not dip down low enough to require it. My blood pressure remained low during my entire stay. I was up and walking around within 24 hours of the surgery. Things just looked great and continued to for the rest of my stay. And our little Henry, even though he dropped nearly 10% of his birth weight, was doing really well!
I was released on Thursday afternoon and able to come home and be with my family.
So that's the basic run down. It's time for me to feed our little guy ad then get a nap. I'll be sure to write more about our first week with Henry in our home!
Can I just say I'm glad to see the end of December?? What a month that was! I wanted it to end almost before it started. And now we are in a new month and a new year! As I type this, I am trying to keep my eyes open because I'm sleep deprived and full of drowsy drugs, but I want to get this all down before the memories start to fade.
After an awesome New Year's Eve party and a busy New Year's Day getting bags packed and the house clean, it was almost time to go to the hospital to welcome baby #3 into the world. I debated about going to church on Sunday, as I assumed I'd be up all night and would need some rest, but decided to go and, in the end, am very glad I did!
That night we headed to the hospital leaving our other kiddos in the trusty hands of my amazingly wonderful sister in law, Kim. She is amazing and I love her for taking care of Soren and Caroline for nearly 3 full days!! Plus my other sister in law, Sarah, pitched in as well as my sweet friend (also named Sarah). This doesn't even touch on the number of people who offered to do anything we needed over the week! We are so blessed to have such awesome family and friends!! Ok, that was a tangent - now back to the story of our little guy!
Admission to the hospital went fairly quickly; no pile of paperwork, just a few things here and there. Then the real fun began! Not knowing how many different drugs I might need for delivery, I needed two IVs thingies (catheters?) put in - one in each arm. Last time I needed a butt load of drugs because of all the complications I had, so they wanted to be prepared. It only took two nurses an hour and a half plus the use of an ultrasound machine to be successful. Apparently I have crooked veins. Who knew? I now am sporting some pretty awesome bruises on my left arm, though. Sweet!
After the IV debacle, we settled in for a night of what we hoped would be a progressive induction. Caroline had taken 36 hours to get the hint that it was time for her to come (for her own safety), so I was preparing for things to take at least that long but hoping it wouldn't! Haha . . . be careful what you wish for!! Anyway, the plan was a Miso tablet to help move things along, then another after 3 hours, then we'd move on from there to Pitocin and a baby!
Miso tablets, apparently, cause a lot of cramping. Sleep didn't really happen because every time I'd doze off, I'd wake back up in pain. Not major pain, mind you, but just annoying enough to keep me from sleeping. Then, of course, the nurse came in quite a few times to check baby and blood pressure and all of that fun stuff. After 2 rounds of Miso, it was time to hook up the pitocin. My nurse changed around 7:30am, but not much else changed. I wasn't progressing very quickly, so they were slowly turning up the Pitocin.
Generally I am pretty tolerant of pain, but during labor I feel like a big wuss. The sooner I can get something to stop the pain, the happier I am. However, no matter how many times and ways I mentioned that I would sure like something for the pain, I didn't get anything. Finally the doctor arrived to assess the situation and I asked her what the general protocol was for giving me drugs. After checking to see how baby was progressing, she told me she wanted his head to be a little closer to the exit before we put in the epidural. I trusted her opinion (she's a great doctor from what I've been able to ascertain), so I went with it.
Shortly thereafter I began to disagree.
I've been induced with each of my pregnancies, so I've done the whole Pitocin thing before. I know that the pain associated with Pitocin (and labor in general haha) sucks, but I was experiencing some nasty, nasty pain. With Caroline, my epidural stopped working 45 minutes before she was born and I went through the final bit of labor without anything to kill or dull the pain. The contractions I was feeling this time were more painful than that. I'd get one contraction, it would start to fade and then before it went away, another one started. Then I'd get about 20-30 seconds before it all started again. This is when I started whining to the nurse! Around 11:30am, after watching me and my contractions disagree for quite a while, she turned the Pitocin down. It was heaven! For all of 5 minutes, anyway. I was expressing my joy at the relief when I felt something familiar. I looked at the nurse and told her I was pretty sure my water had just broken.
Hooray!
Except then I was worried that I'd have to do the labor without drugs again because after my water broke with Caroline, she came VERY quickly! I braced myself for it, but after the nurse checked things out, she looked slightly concerned. She told us there was some blood and she wanted to check with the doctor on the next step. After maybe 2 minutes, she came back in and that's when the crazy started. Apparently I was dripping blood - everywhere. I couldn't see it (thank GOODNESS!!!), but there was blood all over my bed and literally streaming onto the floor, creating a puddle.
The look on the nurses face told me that things were not good. And suddenly there were at least 6 other people in the room. I had an anesthesiologist in my face (his name was Doug and he was super nice, actually) going through the risks and warnings, I had my nurse telling me they were doing a c-section asap, I had a doctor (not mine, of course - she was already in surgery) telling me her name - which I promptly forgot - and saying she'd be performing the surgery, there were papers being tossed in my face to sign, and then I was being rapidly wheeled down halls to an operating room.
By this time I had lost so much blood I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. I tried to do what they told me to so I could get the spinal block and they wouldn't have to knock me out completely. If there was one thing I remembered from the anesthesiologist, it was that if they had to knock me out completely, Alan would not be able to be there with me. I was not ok with this and I knew he'd be pretty upset as well. Thank goodness I was coherent enough to get the spinal block! Before I knew what was happening, the nurses and Alan were trying to inform me that our baby was here.
And he was beautiful.
Our little guy, Henry Alan Tullis!!!
Arrival date: 1/3/11
Arrival time: 12:21pm
Weight: 7lbs, 3oz
Height: 21 1/2 inches
I wish I'd been more coherent . . . I was too weak to even hold him - I didn't trust myself, but I gave him a kiss and told him I loved him. At that point I just wanted to sleep. The nurses needed to take Henry to the nursery because his blood sugar was a little low (and I was in no position to feed him! Haha!) and he was having a little bit of trouble fully figuring out the whole breathing thing. Alan stayed with me while they finished with the surgery. I think it was at that point that the doctor told us that my placenta was torn and that's where all the blood was coming from. Later we were told that it wasn't a "traditional" tear - the placenta hadn't pulled away from the uterine wall or anything, it had just torn during labor. Apparently this happens in less than 2% of pregnancies. I'm telling you, my luck with medical stuff is amazing!!!
Anyway, after they sewed me all up, I was wheeled over to a recovery room where I shook so much I think I caused a minor earthquake. I remember shaking a lot after my Gallbladder surgery, but this seemed more intense. They finally gave me some Demerol and the shaking went away. After about an hour hanging out in recovery with both my nurse (KC was her name, by the way) and our friend anesthesiologist, Doug, they finally let me go back to my room. I think I slept, but I can't really remember.
After over 6 hours, the nursery finally released Henry and he came into the room. I held him and didn't want to put him down or share or anything!!
We were blessed with many visitors at the hospital, but two of our favorites were Soren and Caroline.
Overall, the nurses and doctors were impressed with my recovery. My doctor was almost certain I would need a blood transfusion, but I was very blessed and my red blood count did not dip down low enough to require it. My blood pressure remained low during my entire stay. I was up and walking around within 24 hours of the surgery. Things just looked great and continued to for the rest of my stay. And our little Henry, even though he dropped nearly 10% of his birth weight, was doing really well!
I was released on Thursday afternoon and able to come home and be with my family.
So that's the basic run down. It's time for me to feed our little guy ad then get a nap. I'll be sure to write more about our first week with Henry in our home!
Thursday, December 30, 2010
I suppose I should document this . . .
Nope, sorry - this isn't a Christmas post! Although I have to say, we did have a splendid Christmas! It was quiet and beautiful and relaxing! Cherishing those while they last!
Instead let me tell you a little about my month. Aside from the pneumonia. I've been heading to the doctor 2-3 times a week for appointments, ultrasounds, and non-stress tests. This week I also had some blood work done, partially at my request and partially at the doctor's request. Which doctor? Who knows? I have seen a total of 8 during this pregnancy (including two perinatologists!), one of which may or may not be the delivering doctor.
Most of these appointments have been low key, everything looking good, lots of pics of our new little guy (he's adorable, by the way - his cheeks are to die for! I hope they stay chubby!!). Today things took a turn. First off, my blood pressure didn't want to cooperate. Secondly, I was down a couple of pounds (I know, you're thinking - how lucky are you? No, this is not good... it happened with Caroline and if you read her story, you know it only goes downhill from here). Thirdly, well - the results of the blood tests were back. And they didn't look good.
You see, Christmas Eve something happened. Itching. And not the normal pregnancy itching that comes with an expanding tummy, but intense itching on the palms of my hands and on my feet. This is one of the only signs that accompany a condition called Cholestasis. This is the same thing I had with Caroline and there was a 90% chance it would happen again. When the itching started, I knew what it was but I also knew there wasn't anything the doctor could do about it this close to the end of the pregnancy. So when I went in the following Monday, I mentioned it to the perinatologist, who ordered the blood work. That's the blood work that came back today. And it was positive.
Not really a big shocker, but I was hoping to make it to 39 weeks. Oh well!
The blood pressure situation is still up in the air. More test results should be available tomorrow.
So, the big news is . . . I'm heading in for an induction on Sunday, January 2nd! Stay tuned for more news and pictures!
Instead let me tell you a little about my month. Aside from the pneumonia. I've been heading to the doctor 2-3 times a week for appointments, ultrasounds, and non-stress tests. This week I also had some blood work done, partially at my request and partially at the doctor's request. Which doctor? Who knows? I have seen a total of 8 during this pregnancy (including two perinatologists!), one of which may or may not be the delivering doctor.
Most of these appointments have been low key, everything looking good, lots of pics of our new little guy (he's adorable, by the way - his cheeks are to die for! I hope they stay chubby!!). Today things took a turn. First off, my blood pressure didn't want to cooperate. Secondly, I was down a couple of pounds (I know, you're thinking - how lucky are you? No, this is not good... it happened with Caroline and if you read her story, you know it only goes downhill from here). Thirdly, well - the results of the blood tests were back. And they didn't look good.
You see, Christmas Eve something happened. Itching. And not the normal pregnancy itching that comes with an expanding tummy, but intense itching on the palms of my hands and on my feet. This is one of the only signs that accompany a condition called Cholestasis. This is the same thing I had with Caroline and there was a 90% chance it would happen again. When the itching started, I knew what it was but I also knew there wasn't anything the doctor could do about it this close to the end of the pregnancy. So when I went in the following Monday, I mentioned it to the perinatologist, who ordered the blood work. That's the blood work that came back today. And it was positive.
Not really a big shocker, but I was hoping to make it to 39 weeks. Oh well!
The blood pressure situation is still up in the air. More test results should be available tomorrow.
So, the big news is . . . I'm heading in for an induction on Sunday, January 2nd! Stay tuned for more news and pictures!
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Road to . . . . somewhere?
December has only just begun and I'm ready for one of two things: A do-over OR a skip-to-the-end! What a month!
Last week we had the Furnace Saga. After at least 4 trips to various locations for the part we thought was the problem and then two visits in two days from two different technicians, the furnace was finally fixed. We only had two full days without heat, so it wasn't the end of the world. However, the money we had to put out to repair it was not in our plans, so that was a bummer. The past week we have made a lot of positive comments about the warmth of the house. We are very grateful that we were able to get it repaired and now have a functioning furnace. And we'll be sure to open an empty package of warm air on Christmas morning to remind ourselves of that! Haha!
Now on to the sickies. The last week of November both Caroline and myself came down with something nasty.
It took Caroline two weeks to shake it. She actually still has some fluid in her ear, a minor cough, and a slight runny nose. I'm supposed to take her back to the doctor in 3-4 weeks just to make sure it has all cleared up. And speaking of the doctor, she's been there twice in the past week or so. On Dec. 1st she went in for her 2 year old check up. The good news? She's finally back on the growth chart! You go, girl! However, she's still just a teenie little peanut. In the past year (yes, YEAR), she has gained a grand total of 4lbs. I've got to come up with some Supernanny worthy tactics to get this girl to eat. Caroline's second doctor's appointment was due to me. Mentally I know I am a good mom who tries to do what is best for my kids. But emotionally I feel horrible for yoinking her arm the wrong direction and pulling her elbow out of socket.... again. So we had to rush over to the doctor yesterday to pop that sucker back in. Could I do it myself? Probably. But I have such a hard time with that kind of stuff. And to think - at one point in my life I wanted to be a nurse or doctor. HAHAHAHA! That seriously makes me laugh now.
My version of the evil sickies that Caroline shared with me (hey, she's learning to share so I can't be too angry, right?) was beyond stupid. After talking to nurses, a doctor, and a pharmacist, I was given plenty of ideas on how to deal with it sans meds. I thought I'd made a breakthrough and was on the road to recovery, but alas . . . it all turned south again. This time I went into the doctor and told her I couldn't do it anymore - I was done, wiped, exhausted, over it . . . and finally was able to get some antibiotics. Less than 24 hours later I can report that I am feeling almost human again. Aside from the plethora of bathroom trips last night, I actually slept without coughing, sneezing, or blowing my nose every 20 minutes. I look forward to the next few days when hopefully all that keeps me awake at night is a kicking baby and/or trips to the bathroom.
And now I need to do all those things that fell by the wayside when I was sitting on the couch/in bed with a box of tissues in my lap. I still have things to mail, things to order, and things to decorate for Christmas. Whether or not they will all get done, I don't know. I'm going to do what I can and try very hard not to beat myself up if they don't.
And that is my summary of December thus far. We also had Soren's piano recital (I missed it), a Christmas party or two (I went to one but left early), lots of homework/projects to finish before the holiday break, and preparations around the house for our new addition. It's been quite a month already. Hopefully the remainder of the month can be a little more uneventful! :)
Last week we had the Furnace Saga. After at least 4 trips to various locations for the part we thought was the problem and then two visits in two days from two different technicians, the furnace was finally fixed. We only had two full days without heat, so it wasn't the end of the world. However, the money we had to put out to repair it was not in our plans, so that was a bummer. The past week we have made a lot of positive comments about the warmth of the house. We are very grateful that we were able to get it repaired and now have a functioning furnace. And we'll be sure to open an empty package of warm air on Christmas morning to remind ourselves of that! Haha!
Now on to the sickies. The last week of November both Caroline and myself came down with something nasty.
It took Caroline two weeks to shake it. She actually still has some fluid in her ear, a minor cough, and a slight runny nose. I'm supposed to take her back to the doctor in 3-4 weeks just to make sure it has all cleared up. And speaking of the doctor, she's been there twice in the past week or so. On Dec. 1st she went in for her 2 year old check up. The good news? She's finally back on the growth chart! You go, girl! However, she's still just a teenie little peanut. In the past year (yes, YEAR), she has gained a grand total of 4lbs. I've got to come up with some Supernanny worthy tactics to get this girl to eat. Caroline's second doctor's appointment was due to me. Mentally I know I am a good mom who tries to do what is best for my kids. But emotionally I feel horrible for yoinking her arm the wrong direction and pulling her elbow out of socket.... again. So we had to rush over to the doctor yesterday to pop that sucker back in. Could I do it myself? Probably. But I have such a hard time with that kind of stuff. And to think - at one point in my life I wanted to be a nurse or doctor. HAHAHAHA! That seriously makes me laugh now.
My version of the evil sickies that Caroline shared with me (hey, she's learning to share so I can't be too angry, right?) was beyond stupid. After talking to nurses, a doctor, and a pharmacist, I was given plenty of ideas on how to deal with it sans meds. I thought I'd made a breakthrough and was on the road to recovery, but alas . . . it all turned south again. This time I went into the doctor and told her I couldn't do it anymore - I was done, wiped, exhausted, over it . . . and finally was able to get some antibiotics. Less than 24 hours later I can report that I am feeling almost human again. Aside from the plethora of bathroom trips last night, I actually slept without coughing, sneezing, or blowing my nose every 20 minutes. I look forward to the next few days when hopefully all that keeps me awake at night is a kicking baby and/or trips to the bathroom.
And now I need to do all those things that fell by the wayside when I was sitting on the couch/in bed with a box of tissues in my lap. I still have things to mail, things to order, and things to decorate for Christmas. Whether or not they will all get done, I don't know. I'm going to do what I can and try very hard not to beat myself up if they don't.
And that is my summary of December thus far. We also had Soren's piano recital (I missed it), a Christmas party or two (I went to one but left early), lots of homework/projects to finish before the holiday break, and preparations around the house for our new addition. It's been quite a month already. Hopefully the remainder of the month can be a little more uneventful! :)
Thursday, December 2, 2010
WARNING - WHINE POST
I have much to be thankful for, I know that. But sometimes, you just have to whine.
Currently I am sick and I have been sick for almost a full week. Caroline has been sick for nearly two full weeks. Yes, she has been to the doctor. I went to the doctor last week before this all settled in to annoy me. Do we know what it is? Nope. Is there anything that can be done? Nope. She's 2 and weighs next to nothing (but hey, she's back on the growth chart at least), so there isn't much over the counter that she can take. I'm pregnant and run into the same problem. So whatever this nasty junk is, it's hanging on for dear life to both of us making us tired, sick, and cranky! I broke down today and called my new clinic to ask if I could take Mucinex. The nurse told me it's better to be safe than sorry and to avoid it (none of her charts were showing that it was okay). So I am going to try Sudafed, which I hate taking because it leaves me in a fog of stupid. I could try Benadryl as well, but even the children's version of that knocks me out cold. So I'm annoyed that I'm sick basically. And I'm annoyed at how long it is lasting.
The furnace stopped working at some point on Tuesday night. Yesterday we had no heat and Alan and I investigated and think we have pinpointed the problem. Alan left work early to rush over to a store that closed at 5 to get a part. Which didn't end up fitting in our furnace. Ugh! So we went all night without heat again. Alan had meetings this morning and then was going to be a gem and go out part-hunting again. I'm not sure how long his meetings will go and what obligations he has at work, so I am trying to huddle down into blankies and stay warm. I think furnaces should not be allowed to break in December or January. Isn't there a law about that somewhere? Alan is trying so hard to fix this to keep the cost down. I sure love him.
Now we come to the eating part of life for me. Nothing looks good or sounds good. Everything - and I mean everything - gives me heartburn. I had crackers this morning at 6am when I woke up from yet another terrible night of sleep and 20 minutes later I needed Tums. So basically I don't want to eat and I'm hungry all day because I don't want to eat. This happened with Caroline as well. And I lost weight and the doctor scolded me. But seriously - I have plenty of stored fat to share with baby, so I don't see what the big deal is. Except that when I don't eat I am very cranky. Probably because my body needs food. Bah!
I love this new baby we have coming, but he could really create a much more cheerful momma if he repositioned himself. I don't really care for the lower back pain nor am I a fan of the tailbone pain. I try not to complain too much about this because we obviously are thrilled that we are able to have another baby, but it really is very painful and makes walking, sitting, standing, and basically any type of moving very difficult.
I think above all else I feel horrible for how much Alan is having to do because I'm such a mess. He is doing it and not complaining (out loud), but I know he works hard all day and then to have to come home and fix dinner (most nights), load the dishwasher, take care of me, help with the kids, fix furnaces, etc. . . . I just feel bad. This is one of those times where I wish I had the money to hire someone to come in and give the house a good scrubbing. I know I can't do it right now. I can barely get out of the house for an hour or two without paying for it the rest of the day. And I know I have friends who are more than willing to come help, but with all the germs flying around here I don't want to risk getting them sick.
And I won't even get started on the situation with insurance and doctors. That's a whole 'nother whine tangent.
So basically I just needed to dump. And there it is.
Currently I am sick and I have been sick for almost a full week. Caroline has been sick for nearly two full weeks. Yes, she has been to the doctor. I went to the doctor last week before this all settled in to annoy me. Do we know what it is? Nope. Is there anything that can be done? Nope. She's 2 and weighs next to nothing (but hey, she's back on the growth chart at least), so there isn't much over the counter that she can take. I'm pregnant and run into the same problem. So whatever this nasty junk is, it's hanging on for dear life to both of us making us tired, sick, and cranky! I broke down today and called my new clinic to ask if I could take Mucinex. The nurse told me it's better to be safe than sorry and to avoid it (none of her charts were showing that it was okay). So I am going to try Sudafed, which I hate taking because it leaves me in a fog of stupid. I could try Benadryl as well, but even the children's version of that knocks me out cold. So I'm annoyed that I'm sick basically. And I'm annoyed at how long it is lasting.
The furnace stopped working at some point on Tuesday night. Yesterday we had no heat and Alan and I investigated and think we have pinpointed the problem. Alan left work early to rush over to a store that closed at 5 to get a part. Which didn't end up fitting in our furnace. Ugh! So we went all night without heat again. Alan had meetings this morning and then was going to be a gem and go out part-hunting again. I'm not sure how long his meetings will go and what obligations he has at work, so I am trying to huddle down into blankies and stay warm. I think furnaces should not be allowed to break in December or January. Isn't there a law about that somewhere? Alan is trying so hard to fix this to keep the cost down. I sure love him.
Now we come to the eating part of life for me. Nothing looks good or sounds good. Everything - and I mean everything - gives me heartburn. I had crackers this morning at 6am when I woke up from yet another terrible night of sleep and 20 minutes later I needed Tums. So basically I don't want to eat and I'm hungry all day because I don't want to eat. This happened with Caroline as well. And I lost weight and the doctor scolded me. But seriously - I have plenty of stored fat to share with baby, so I don't see what the big deal is. Except that when I don't eat I am very cranky. Probably because my body needs food. Bah!
I love this new baby we have coming, but he could really create a much more cheerful momma if he repositioned himself. I don't really care for the lower back pain nor am I a fan of the tailbone pain. I try not to complain too much about this because we obviously are thrilled that we are able to have another baby, but it really is very painful and makes walking, sitting, standing, and basically any type of moving very difficult.
I think above all else I feel horrible for how much Alan is having to do because I'm such a mess. He is doing it and not complaining (out loud), but I know he works hard all day and then to have to come home and fix dinner (most nights), load the dishwasher, take care of me, help with the kids, fix furnaces, etc. . . . I just feel bad. This is one of those times where I wish I had the money to hire someone to come in and give the house a good scrubbing. I know I can't do it right now. I can barely get out of the house for an hour or two without paying for it the rest of the day. And I know I have friends who are more than willing to come help, but with all the germs flying around here I don't want to risk getting them sick.
And I won't even get started on the situation with insurance and doctors. That's a whole 'nother whine tangent.
So basically I just needed to dump. And there it is.
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