So after a night of feeling like I woke up every hour to feed the baby instead of the desired 2 or 3, the baby and I finally fell soundly asleep at around 7ish, which was about the time that Tanner got up to go to work. I heard Tanner leave and about 20 minutes later, I hear the phone ring. I let it ring...I am getting good sleep here. It rings again...and again. Finally, I get up ready to give which ever member of my family is calling a piece of my mind when I look at the caller ID and it says "First Time Cleaners." Even better, I thought, what company in their right mind would call 3 times in a row at 8am? I answer the phone and on the other end is a voice I recognize...it would be my husband, calling from the cleaners (he had the cell phone but the battery was dead).
"The Monte ran out of gas...I got stuck on the corner of Alafaya and Eastwood, will you come get me?"
"Are you serious?"
I got no answer to that, which means he is. I always seem to ask "Are you serious?" when there would be absolutely no reason to joke...it's kind of redundancy thing I have going on...so most of the time, Tanner just ignores the question.
I tell him I will get there as soon as I can...I go get sleeping Andrew and put him in his carseat and then go get Clark and say "Come on sweetie, we have to go rescue dadda." Clark looked so excited.
Clark has a little game he likes to play with me during the day where he says "Dadda Home?" and I say "Nope", and he says "Dadda Work?" and I say "Yep!" So of course on the way to go rescue dadda, the conversation goes:
Clark: "Dadda Home?"
Me: "Nope"
Clark: "Dadda Work?"
Me: "Nope"
Clark looks totally confused.
Me: "Dadda's up here on the corner outside!"
We pick him up and proceed to the nearest gas station, a 711, to get a gas can and some gas to go back and fill up the Monte. Tanner was gone about 2 seconds when he comes out and says that we have to go across the street to Lowe's to get a gas can.
Me: "This gas station has no gas cans?" (redundancy issue comes into play again)
Tanner: "Nope"
Me: "You've GOT to be kidding me. Well, I am sure glad they have their donuts" Because that would be a real travesty, if people got to a gas station and weren't able to buy a donut, let alone have access to their third cup of coffee on their way to work...but a gas can...come on, who needs 'em?
We run over to Lowe's then back to a gas station (a different one that is closer on our side of the street) which I am glad about since I feel like 711 should be punished for their idiocy in being a gas station and not carrying gas cans. Then back to the car where we run into another problem. How to assemble the gas can? It's harder than it looks people, but I did have to chuckle watching my Eagle Scout husband struggling to figure this thing out. They teach you how to survive in the wilderness for 5 days without food, water, or shelter, but something practical and mundane like how to assemble a gas can is just boring. We both tried for about twenty minutes to get this cap off of another piece and just couldn't do it. Finally, Tanner just tried to pop it out instead of doing what we thought the instructions were telling us, and it popped right out, just like that. How embarrassing for the both of us, but I would at least argue in our defense that it is NOT as embarrassing as a gas station that doesn't carry gas cans.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
Things I Love...
about having a new baby (in no particular order)...
1. The flowers.
These beautiful tulips were given to us by Tanner's parents. Thank You!
2. New baby skin...oh so soft.
3. Pecking...I love it when Andrew is hungry and he starts pecking at my shoulder when I am holding him.
4. Meals...not made by me.
5. When Andrew starts to cry, Clark immediately says "Baby Andrew crying" with a look of REAL concern.
6. When I went to check on Andrew the other day, Clark had discreetly placed one of his precious cars next to him to play with...all in good time buddy.
1. The flowers.
These beautiful tulips were given to us by Tanner's parents. Thank You!2. New baby skin...oh so soft.
3. Pecking...I love it when Andrew is hungry and he starts pecking at my shoulder when I am holding him.
4. Meals...not made by me.
5. When Andrew starts to cry, Clark immediately says "Baby Andrew crying" with a look of REAL concern.
6. When I went to check on Andrew the other day, Clark had discreetly placed one of his precious cars next to him to play with...all in good time buddy.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Personal Opinion...
I know I wrote a blog about this after I had Clark, but I feel like some issues need to be revisited, if for no other reason than for me to just 'get it out' and be done with it.
Just when you thought all the crazy comments you get while you are pregnant are over, the post pregnancy comments begin. I am two weeks post delivery, and I showed up to the park to meet some friends from church. I AM still wearing maternity pants, my smallest ones, but still...they are maternity pants. There were two girls there, and they looked me up and down and then said "I can't believe how skinny you are already, we hate you". After my last blog about this subject, I decided I would just say Thank You when people comment on my skinniness, but the words "Thank You" don't really follow nicely after the phrase "we hate you"...oh Thank you! So of course I did my, "hey, but I am wearing maternity pants see?!" thinking that maybe it would make them "hate" me less. No, then I got "it doesn't matter because our regular pants are bigger than those maternity pants". Okay, I can't win. Here is where this blog becomes very UN-PC, but this is what I have observed from my experience. The women who just say to me "you look great" are always women who look kind of like me, and the women I get the "you are so skinny I hate you" mantra are women who maybe didn't lose all their baby weight with their last child. Why do I have to be on the receiving end of their bitterness that they have not been able to lose their weight? Why do women like to do the old reach around and act like they are giving you a compliment, when in reality they are just showing their disgust that you have something they don't. This doesn't just happen with the weight issue, it can pretty much happen with anything and everything in our lives. It's the whole demean someone else to make you feel better issue, and we women have got it down to a science so that we start out making it sound like a compliment and then stick a zinger in there that negates anything that was even remotely complimentary. So, I am just going to throw this out there...how about we just pay another woman a compliment and NOT throw the zinger in there and NOT then follow it up with a whine or gripe about your own issues. Just pay a girl a compliment and be DONE. It is surprising how much better we feel about OURSELVES when we do that for another person.
Then, there is the When Do You Go Back To Church issue after you have a baby. We got home from the hospital on a Friday night, we skipped church that first week, and then showed up the second week to literal GASPS when we walked into the chapel. Women kept coming up to me saying "Didn't you get the memo that you get at LEAST a month off of church after you have a baby?" Now, I recognize that depending on your birth experience and/or complications you may have, it is completely reasonable to not be able to get to church for a couple of weeks. However, it is my personal opinion that I believe a lot of women use the excuse of having a baby to completely ditch out on church when they are perfectly well enough to attend. Women are surprisingly open to each other about this fact, and frankly, I think it's pathetic. Someone finally asked me why I would want to come back to church so quickly. I said "because if I don't, I end up being very lazy at home, feeling guilty about not fulfilling my calling and not attending church when I know there is no real good reason not to, and I just don't want to feel like that." Sure it takes effort after you have had a baby to get moving and just getting the kids ready for church makes me want to take a nap, but I think it is especially important to keep up the spiritual nourishment during this time, because it can be such a difficult time emotionally. I think the more you shut down, the more likely you are to wallow in how hard your new life is, and the easier it is to decide that you can't do things...and, I think it is a whole lot easier to get depressed. Ultimately, it is a very personal decision since only you know what you are ready to accomplish after having a child, but let's be very honest with ourselves too and not use the "Well, I just had baby" excuse just because you can and you know no one will dare question it. I hope we would have a little more respect for motherhood than that...but that's just my personal opinion.
Just when you thought all the crazy comments you get while you are pregnant are over, the post pregnancy comments begin. I am two weeks post delivery, and I showed up to the park to meet some friends from church. I AM still wearing maternity pants, my smallest ones, but still...they are maternity pants. There were two girls there, and they looked me up and down and then said "I can't believe how skinny you are already, we hate you". After my last blog about this subject, I decided I would just say Thank You when people comment on my skinniness, but the words "Thank You" don't really follow nicely after the phrase "we hate you"...oh Thank you! So of course I did my, "hey, but I am wearing maternity pants see?!" thinking that maybe it would make them "hate" me less. No, then I got "it doesn't matter because our regular pants are bigger than those maternity pants". Okay, I can't win. Here is where this blog becomes very UN-PC, but this is what I have observed from my experience. The women who just say to me "you look great" are always women who look kind of like me, and the women I get the "you are so skinny I hate you" mantra are women who maybe didn't lose all their baby weight with their last child. Why do I have to be on the receiving end of their bitterness that they have not been able to lose their weight? Why do women like to do the old reach around and act like they are giving you a compliment, when in reality they are just showing their disgust that you have something they don't. This doesn't just happen with the weight issue, it can pretty much happen with anything and everything in our lives. It's the whole demean someone else to make you feel better issue, and we women have got it down to a science so that we start out making it sound like a compliment and then stick a zinger in there that negates anything that was even remotely complimentary. So, I am just going to throw this out there...how about we just pay another woman a compliment and NOT throw the zinger in there and NOT then follow it up with a whine or gripe about your own issues. Just pay a girl a compliment and be DONE. It is surprising how much better we feel about OURSELVES when we do that for another person.
Then, there is the When Do You Go Back To Church issue after you have a baby. We got home from the hospital on a Friday night, we skipped church that first week, and then showed up the second week to literal GASPS when we walked into the chapel. Women kept coming up to me saying "Didn't you get the memo that you get at LEAST a month off of church after you have a baby?" Now, I recognize that depending on your birth experience and/or complications you may have, it is completely reasonable to not be able to get to church for a couple of weeks. However, it is my personal opinion that I believe a lot of women use the excuse of having a baby to completely ditch out on church when they are perfectly well enough to attend. Women are surprisingly open to each other about this fact, and frankly, I think it's pathetic. Someone finally asked me why I would want to come back to church so quickly. I said "because if I don't, I end up being very lazy at home, feeling guilty about not fulfilling my calling and not attending church when I know there is no real good reason not to, and I just don't want to feel like that." Sure it takes effort after you have had a baby to get moving and just getting the kids ready for church makes me want to take a nap, but I think it is especially important to keep up the spiritual nourishment during this time, because it can be such a difficult time emotionally. I think the more you shut down, the more likely you are to wallow in how hard your new life is, and the easier it is to decide that you can't do things...and, I think it is a whole lot easier to get depressed. Ultimately, it is a very personal decision since only you know what you are ready to accomplish after having a child, but let's be very honest with ourselves too and not use the "Well, I just had baby" excuse just because you can and you know no one will dare question it. I hope we would have a little more respect for motherhood than that...but that's just my personal opinion.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Moments at Home
Here are some pictures from the first few days back at home. Andrew has spent A LOT of time sleeping, but he loves to snuggle! We are still surprised by how small he is...but I can already tell that he is starting to grow. It makes me a little sad that they change so fast, and I barely remember Clark being little like this so I am trying to savor every itty bitty part of it.
This is how I found Clark one afternoon right after I gave him a bath. He thought he was so funny and even pretended to sleep and made snoring sounds. I get the feeling that once Andrew grows up a little, my two boys are going to have a good time together. 
This is how I found Clark one afternoon right after I gave him a bath. He thought he was so funny and even pretended to sleep and made snoring sounds. I get the feeling that once Andrew grows up a little, my two boys are going to have a good time together. 
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Grandparents
My parents were awesome throughout the entire week. I was so grateful that we had family living close by to help us, and I am also grateful for family living far away who were praying for us the entire time as well. My parents picked up Clark on Monday night and kept him at the birdhouse with them until Friday night. On top of that, my mom was sick with cold/flu like symptoms the entire time. I am sure at times it took all three of them to keep up with the Clarkster, but they keep telling me he was an angel child the whole week. We continue to be grateful for all the love and support we have received from them and from the rest of our family and friends across the U.S. Thank you!
Friday, February 1, 2008
Going Home
As nice as the hospital was, we were VERY excited to go home. Clark LOVED the wheelchair, and the lady who wheeled me out was very nice and took Clark on some rides while we waited for dad to go and get the car. Clark was so cute when he realized that now he was going to have a buddy in the backseat right next to him. 
Clark and Andrew
Nice to meet you Andrew!!
Here is some really cute video of Clark spending some time with Andrew in the hospital:
So far, Clark just really loves Andrew. Whenever he wants to hold Andrew, he runs up to us and says "hold it, hold it". Every once in a while, I have to make sure Andrew and I are not in the line of fire of Clark throwing balls or other objects around while playing.
The Story Behind The Story
I have debated if and how to tell our experience the last week with the birth of Andrew because after all, I come from a family that is prone to ummm...a little exaggeration. Then there is Tanner who is definitely a 'less is more' kind of guy. But in reality, as I have reflected and continue to reflect over this past week, I just can't help but want to show my gratitude for all the people who 'saved' us. I think the other important thing about experiences of this kind are that it is usually after it is all over that you realize that a bunch of little tender mercies and blessings got you through it. I think we sometimes marginalize those small things because we do not want to give the impression that we think every little thing that happens in our lives has some special spiritual meaning. I think some things just happen for no particular reason, and with other things, there is no other possible explanation other than divine intervention, but I actually think that most experiences can actually be a pretty neat mixture of the two.
We spent the weekend with my parents in Mount Dora for Stake Conference via satellite from Salt Lake. I felt pretty yucky with the whole pregnancy thing by this point as my swelling had decided to stick around 24/7 and the fatigue was really starting to take its toll. We attended the Saturday night adult session and I ran into a lot of friends that are in my parents ward. I spoke to Melody who commented that I needed to be careful because of my swelling and told me of her story of having had a seizure with her first pregnancy. I wasn't totally alarmed, but I was definitely starting to feel like I needed to take my condition more seriously. Most pregnant women swell, and I did at the end with Clark so I wasn't too worried except for the fact that I felt SO terrible. But I have to thank Melody here for being the first one out there who caused me to stop and think about how I was feeling instead of just casually dismissing it as 'the end of pregnancy'. I didn't feel any better the next day and could barely make it through the Sunday morning video conference because I was so uncomfortable.
When we got home I decided I needed to call my Relief Society President, Amy, to tell her that I was going to stay at my parents and couldn't make it to the meeting we had scheduled that night because I felt pretty bad. Amy had pre-eclampsia with all of her children and definitely knows what she is talking about. She urged me, actually she practically made me promise, to go get my blood pressure checked right away. So Tanner and I took off to Wal-Mart to use the little machine that's in the pharmacy. She specifically told me that if the bottom number was over 90, I needed to call my doctor. My first blood pressure check was 157/102. I took numerous ones after that thinking the machine must be broken, but it wasn't. I think my mom could see that I didn't want to be an alarmist, so she decided that she would take the lead to ensure that I did what was necessary, which is actually kind of a role reversal for my mom in medical situations. My mom's prescription is usually "have a glass of OJ and go to bed, and you'll feel better soon." Not this time...she made sure I called my doctor and demanded a play by play of the conversation. What can I say except that my mom was in tune. I wasn't having any crazy dizzy symptoms or chest pains so I was told to call my doctor Monday morning and that they would probably want to see me.
The next day, I called my doctor's office and the nurse actually started to say that I didn't need to come in unless I had more symptoms, and then in mid sentence changed her mind and said "No, actually I want you to come in this morning, and I want you to be prepared to go to the hospital". Okie Dokie. I didn't want to get too excited or anything. I have heard too many stories of people getting sent home from the hospital to actually hope that I would have this baby any time soon. I called my friend Jessica who immediately offered to take Clark during my office visit and said she would keep him for as long as I needed. Thank you Jessica! I went to the doctor and my blood pressure was still really high, so Dr. Bielawney (remember his name) told me I needed to go to the hospital triage unit to get my blood tested to make sure everything was aok. I was kind of bugged at the thought that I was going to have to drive all the way to the hospital, get a blood test, only to turn around and come home again, but I decided to roll with it especially, since I didn't have to worry about carting my other child around with me. I arrived at the hospital triage unit and proceeded to wait a good couple of hours to be seen. I kept seeing pregnant women come in and come out, some of them looking visibly disappointed that they were not in labor and were being sent home. Finally, they took me back and took my blood and hooked me up to monitor me and the baby. I was on the phone with my friend Amy, when the nurse came in to look at the monitor and said "Did you know you are having contractions?" Who me? What? Can you repeat that? I have to admit, I actually started to get a little excited, until a Resident who literally looked like he was 15 years old came in and started talking amniocentesis at which point I literally almost said "Look Doogie Howser, I do not need an amniocentesis, and not only that, are you sure it's legal for you to even be looking at my pregnant belly?" But I restrained myself...luckily for him. They decided that since I was one day shy of being 37 weeks (considered full term) they would keep me over night to monitor my blood pressure and take a 24 hour urine test.
I really thought I would be going home the next day. My parents showed up to take Clark, and Tanner and my Dad gave me a blessing. In the blessing, Tanner talked about how I should pay attention to the signals my body was giving me and to communicate it to the doctors and nurses, and that we would be able to make it through the coming days. It seemed so innocent at the time, and yet now, so profound. My blood pressure didn't go down that night, and it was actually kind of humorous because minutes after midnight when I officially became 37 weeks, the doctor came in and said that they were going to go ahead and move me to labor and delivery because I was now at term and they did not want to send me home with my blood pressure being what it was. I was still having contractions but they weren't bad at this point. Tanner was even able to go and get absentee ballots for the both of us to fill out in the hospital to vote in the Florida state primary elections! Tanner and I started to get excited that this baby was coming, but it was usually tempered by the fact that the doctor would come in and talk about how high my pressure was and we were going to have to take steps to make sure I didn't seize. I labored all through the next day with very little progress. Finally, a new doctor came on shift and decided we needed to get the show on the road and gave me pitosin and broke my water. I loved him for that, but I did not love him for also ordering me to go on Magnesium Sulfate to keep my blood pressure low. I was warned about this medication already and was not happy about being put on it. It makes you feel like you are on fire, as if pregnant/laboring women aren't hot already. I also asked for the mighty epidural at this point as well. Everything seemed to be going okay, albeit SLOWLY, until I started to feel the contractions again. I controlled the epidural via a little button I would push if I started to feel pain, but apparently the button was malfunctioning....or not. We called the anesthesiologist down twice, and he was great, except that he couldn't fix the problem. My legs were as numb as numb could be but my back and abdomen were no longer getting any love from the drug. I was contracting pretty hard now, and I definitely had my "I can't do this" moment. At this point I must talk about the nurses attending me throughout this process. They were all great, but I was really sad to see that the one I had all day long went off shift at 7pm and I got a new nurse who was an older and quiet woman...not quite the cheerleader I was hoping for in my final stages of labor. However, when my epidural decided to fail, she was EXACTLY the person I needed. She helped me work through each contraction and helped me relax in a way I didn't think would be possible while going through that much pain. She and Tanner were awesome. I had finally dilated to a 6 at around 11:15pm and we were scrambling to get in more blood work so the anesthesiologist could come back and put in a new epidural. At 11:45pm, 45 minutes later, I was in so much pain. I told my nurse maybe she should check me, and sure enough, Andrew was there just waiting for the go ahead! She told me to push, and no sooner had I started than she told me to stop. She immediately called for the doctor and all the other nurses and everyone rushed in. It should also be noted that Andrew's middle name Douglas, after my father, whose birthday just happened to be this same day. I had joked around with my parents earlier in the day that he would come at 12:01am and barely miss being born on my dad's birthday. Well, I was wrong, he came at 12:02am...after two pushes. Andrew was perfect and we were so happy that the whole ordeal was over with (or so we thought) and we had a baby to show for it! I was a little sad that my doctor hadn't been on call at the hospital and didn't deliver Andrew, but they moved me to recovery and the nurse who was taking care of me told me he was on call that morning and would be by to see me. I will spare you all the minute details but it wasn't too long until the nurses realized things were not okay with me as I continued to bleed. They called in my Dr. who rushed in and proceeded to massage my belly to try to stop the bleeding until they could get everything organized and into an operating room to do surgery. I knew it was an emergency when he was paged twice to go deliver two babies and he told them they needed to call the backup doctor to do it because he couldn't leave. It all happened very quickly, and I didn't even have time to process everything other than the fact that I was SO relieved that it was MY doctor who was on call that morning. The nurses who were taking care of me during this time were amazing as well...and three of them even came and visited me the next day to see how I was doing. They wheeled me into the OR and the next thing I knew, I woke up and the nurse was saying that everything had gone very well and that my Dr. had removed some of the placenta that had not come out and that he had also stitched up a laceration in my uterus that apparently occurred during Andrew's journey outward. I was very happy everything went well, and while they were wheeling me back to my room, I started to silently cry. The nurse asked me what was wrong, and I said "nothing, I just needed to have a stress release cry"...and I did. I was VERY happy to see Tanner and Andrew waiting for me in my room when I got back. I was very weak and was told in the middle of the night that I should have a blood transfusion because I had lost so much blood. I really did not want to have another procedure, and they had just taken me off of the dreaded magnesium sulfate, and I was feeling a whole lot better. I told them I wanted to wait and see. The next morning, (it is now February 1st...I've been in the hospital 4 days) after soliciting advice from numerous people--Thank you to Dr. DIZ-BOMB (my uncle), my parents' home teacher, Jen (Tricia's sister-in-law)--I was convinced that it was really in my best interest to have the transfusion. I had lost half my blood and unless I did something to jump start the production back into my body, it would take me months to get back to 'normal'. It took 6 hours to get 2 pints of blood through my IVs and I felt and looked so much better afterward.
To speed up the rest of the story, we were set to be discharged from the hospital on Friday morning, but when they came in to do that last check of my vitals, my blood pressure was still crazy high, even though it had gone back down to normal the previous day. They would not release me until they had done another blood test. We could not believe it. We ended up being there until 10pm on Friday night when we finally got word that everything was normal and I could leave! Again, I have to mention here that I had one nurse who was on shift the last three nights I was there taking care of me. She was awesome and reminded me so much of my friend Jenn who also happens to be an RN. Nurses really make or break a hospital experience and I have to say that overall we felt truly blessed to have the ones we did throughout the whole experience. After 5 days in the hospital, 3 IVs, about 10 pokes to the arm to draw blood, an emergency d&c operation, a blood transfusion, a defective epidural, and who knows how many blood pressure checks, we were very happy to come home...now if I could just get that bandage adhesive off my arms!
We spent the weekend with my parents in Mount Dora for Stake Conference via satellite from Salt Lake. I felt pretty yucky with the whole pregnancy thing by this point as my swelling had decided to stick around 24/7 and the fatigue was really starting to take its toll. We attended the Saturday night adult session and I ran into a lot of friends that are in my parents ward. I spoke to Melody who commented that I needed to be careful because of my swelling and told me of her story of having had a seizure with her first pregnancy. I wasn't totally alarmed, but I was definitely starting to feel like I needed to take my condition more seriously. Most pregnant women swell, and I did at the end with Clark so I wasn't too worried except for the fact that I felt SO terrible. But I have to thank Melody here for being the first one out there who caused me to stop and think about how I was feeling instead of just casually dismissing it as 'the end of pregnancy'. I didn't feel any better the next day and could barely make it through the Sunday morning video conference because I was so uncomfortable.
When we got home I decided I needed to call my Relief Society President, Amy, to tell her that I was going to stay at my parents and couldn't make it to the meeting we had scheduled that night because I felt pretty bad. Amy had pre-eclampsia with all of her children and definitely knows what she is talking about. She urged me, actually she practically made me promise, to go get my blood pressure checked right away. So Tanner and I took off to Wal-Mart to use the little machine that's in the pharmacy. She specifically told me that if the bottom number was over 90, I needed to call my doctor. My first blood pressure check was 157/102. I took numerous ones after that thinking the machine must be broken, but it wasn't. I think my mom could see that I didn't want to be an alarmist, so she decided that she would take the lead to ensure that I did what was necessary, which is actually kind of a role reversal for my mom in medical situations. My mom's prescription is usually "have a glass of OJ and go to bed, and you'll feel better soon." Not this time...she made sure I called my doctor and demanded a play by play of the conversation. What can I say except that my mom was in tune. I wasn't having any crazy dizzy symptoms or chest pains so I was told to call my doctor Monday morning and that they would probably want to see me.
The next day, I called my doctor's office and the nurse actually started to say that I didn't need to come in unless I had more symptoms, and then in mid sentence changed her mind and said "No, actually I want you to come in this morning, and I want you to be prepared to go to the hospital". Okie Dokie. I didn't want to get too excited or anything. I have heard too many stories of people getting sent home from the hospital to actually hope that I would have this baby any time soon. I called my friend Jessica who immediately offered to take Clark during my office visit and said she would keep him for as long as I needed. Thank you Jessica! I went to the doctor and my blood pressure was still really high, so Dr. Bielawney (remember his name) told me I needed to go to the hospital triage unit to get my blood tested to make sure everything was aok. I was kind of bugged at the thought that I was going to have to drive all the way to the hospital, get a blood test, only to turn around and come home again, but I decided to roll with it especially, since I didn't have to worry about carting my other child around with me. I arrived at the hospital triage unit and proceeded to wait a good couple of hours to be seen. I kept seeing pregnant women come in and come out, some of them looking visibly disappointed that they were not in labor and were being sent home. Finally, they took me back and took my blood and hooked me up to monitor me and the baby. I was on the phone with my friend Amy, when the nurse came in to look at the monitor and said "Did you know you are having contractions?" Who me? What? Can you repeat that? I have to admit, I actually started to get a little excited, until a Resident who literally looked like he was 15 years old came in and started talking amniocentesis at which point I literally almost said "Look Doogie Howser, I do not need an amniocentesis, and not only that, are you sure it's legal for you to even be looking at my pregnant belly?" But I restrained myself...luckily for him. They decided that since I was one day shy of being 37 weeks (considered full term) they would keep me over night to monitor my blood pressure and take a 24 hour urine test.
I really thought I would be going home the next day. My parents showed up to take Clark, and Tanner and my Dad gave me a blessing. In the blessing, Tanner talked about how I should pay attention to the signals my body was giving me and to communicate it to the doctors and nurses, and that we would be able to make it through the coming days. It seemed so innocent at the time, and yet now, so profound. My blood pressure didn't go down that night, and it was actually kind of humorous because minutes after midnight when I officially became 37 weeks, the doctor came in and said that they were going to go ahead and move me to labor and delivery because I was now at term and they did not want to send me home with my blood pressure being what it was. I was still having contractions but they weren't bad at this point. Tanner was even able to go and get absentee ballots for the both of us to fill out in the hospital to vote in the Florida state primary elections! Tanner and I started to get excited that this baby was coming, but it was usually tempered by the fact that the doctor would come in and talk about how high my pressure was and we were going to have to take steps to make sure I didn't seize. I labored all through the next day with very little progress. Finally, a new doctor came on shift and decided we needed to get the show on the road and gave me pitosin and broke my water. I loved him for that, but I did not love him for also ordering me to go on Magnesium Sulfate to keep my blood pressure low. I was warned about this medication already and was not happy about being put on it. It makes you feel like you are on fire, as if pregnant/laboring women aren't hot already. I also asked for the mighty epidural at this point as well. Everything seemed to be going okay, albeit SLOWLY, until I started to feel the contractions again. I controlled the epidural via a little button I would push if I started to feel pain, but apparently the button was malfunctioning....or not. We called the anesthesiologist down twice, and he was great, except that he couldn't fix the problem. My legs were as numb as numb could be but my back and abdomen were no longer getting any love from the drug. I was contracting pretty hard now, and I definitely had my "I can't do this" moment. At this point I must talk about the nurses attending me throughout this process. They were all great, but I was really sad to see that the one I had all day long went off shift at 7pm and I got a new nurse who was an older and quiet woman...not quite the cheerleader I was hoping for in my final stages of labor. However, when my epidural decided to fail, she was EXACTLY the person I needed. She helped me work through each contraction and helped me relax in a way I didn't think would be possible while going through that much pain. She and Tanner were awesome. I had finally dilated to a 6 at around 11:15pm and we were scrambling to get in more blood work so the anesthesiologist could come back and put in a new epidural. At 11:45pm, 45 minutes later, I was in so much pain. I told my nurse maybe she should check me, and sure enough, Andrew was there just waiting for the go ahead! She told me to push, and no sooner had I started than she told me to stop. She immediately called for the doctor and all the other nurses and everyone rushed in. It should also be noted that Andrew's middle name Douglas, after my father, whose birthday just happened to be this same day. I had joked around with my parents earlier in the day that he would come at 12:01am and barely miss being born on my dad's birthday. Well, I was wrong, he came at 12:02am...after two pushes. Andrew was perfect and we were so happy that the whole ordeal was over with (or so we thought) and we had a baby to show for it! I was a little sad that my doctor hadn't been on call at the hospital and didn't deliver Andrew, but they moved me to recovery and the nurse who was taking care of me told me he was on call that morning and would be by to see me. I will spare you all the minute details but it wasn't too long until the nurses realized things were not okay with me as I continued to bleed. They called in my Dr. who rushed in and proceeded to massage my belly to try to stop the bleeding until they could get everything organized and into an operating room to do surgery. I knew it was an emergency when he was paged twice to go deliver two babies and he told them they needed to call the backup doctor to do it because he couldn't leave. It all happened very quickly, and I didn't even have time to process everything other than the fact that I was SO relieved that it was MY doctor who was on call that morning. The nurses who were taking care of me during this time were amazing as well...and three of them even came and visited me the next day to see how I was doing. They wheeled me into the OR and the next thing I knew, I woke up and the nurse was saying that everything had gone very well and that my Dr. had removed some of the placenta that had not come out and that he had also stitched up a laceration in my uterus that apparently occurred during Andrew's journey outward. I was very happy everything went well, and while they were wheeling me back to my room, I started to silently cry. The nurse asked me what was wrong, and I said "nothing, I just needed to have a stress release cry"...and I did. I was VERY happy to see Tanner and Andrew waiting for me in my room when I got back. I was very weak and was told in the middle of the night that I should have a blood transfusion because I had lost so much blood. I really did not want to have another procedure, and they had just taken me off of the dreaded magnesium sulfate, and I was feeling a whole lot better. I told them I wanted to wait and see. The next morning, (it is now February 1st...I've been in the hospital 4 days) after soliciting advice from numerous people--Thank you to Dr. DIZ-BOMB (my uncle), my parents' home teacher, Jen (Tricia's sister-in-law)--I was convinced that it was really in my best interest to have the transfusion. I had lost half my blood and unless I did something to jump start the production back into my body, it would take me months to get back to 'normal'. It took 6 hours to get 2 pints of blood through my IVs and I felt and looked so much better afterward.
To speed up the rest of the story, we were set to be discharged from the hospital on Friday morning, but when they came in to do that last check of my vitals, my blood pressure was still crazy high, even though it had gone back down to normal the previous day. They would not release me until they had done another blood test. We could not believe it. We ended up being there until 10pm on Friday night when we finally got word that everything was normal and I could leave! Again, I have to mention here that I had one nurse who was on shift the last three nights I was there taking care of me. She was awesome and reminded me so much of my friend Jenn who also happens to be an RN. Nurses really make or break a hospital experience and I have to say that overall we felt truly blessed to have the ones we did throughout the whole experience. After 5 days in the hospital, 3 IVs, about 10 pokes to the arm to draw blood, an emergency d&c operation, a blood transfusion, a defective epidural, and who knows how many blood pressure checks, we were very happy to come home...now if I could just get that bandage adhesive off my arms!
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