I'm Singing the Blues...

Well, not exactly "singing" but I've had a touch of the baby blues. I always thought I knew what to expect but this time it hit me with no knowing. As it turns out, I went to Kaiser for Hucksley's two week appointment after picking a huge fight with James and his mother for a bed (mattress) that I saw as an extravagant purchase. I should have known better. When I couldn't check email that morning without crying I should have canceled. But I thought getting out would feel good. Ugh.

This is how it happened. I was a nervous wreck already about taking TWO kids out. I knew I could handle one, no idea what to do with two. What if one flipped out, etc. So I'm already crazy to begin with, then there's NO PARKING to be seen for miles in that stupid parking lot. So I drive around until I see a spot and take it. To top that the double stroller won't hold the infant seat, so I'm wondering what the heck to do with the infant. Ugh. If I hadn't just had a baby I would have had the brain chemistry to figure out that I could have just left the seat and taken the infant in the back. But no. Here's what I decided I had to do: carry the car seat and make Bombie WALK to the pediatrician. All well and good so far because I carried her through the parking lot and then made her walk inside the building.

The problem really arose when we got done with the appointment and left. That's when it occurred to me that I had no idea where we had parked. So here I was with a car seat and a ten pound baby in one hand and a twenty-five pound toddler in another. Ugh. Can I say UGH again? I was left circling the parking lot like that for an hour. Talk about disorientation!!! And poor Bombie has just learned to walk so I carried her most of the way because I was terrified of the cars.

Well, we all survived of course, but that was the low point of my baby blues. I chalk it up to mainly waking up EVERY HOUR to feed the newborn so James finally moved him into another room and we all sleep better. Thank goodness.

I have realized however that I need to really examine what's going on when I can't or won't pray. When I started hearing Him and talking to Him again I know it was over. I know Christians say this all the time but God doesn't stop communicating with us or sending us love. It's just that sometimes we stop listening and accepting it. That's how I felt throughout these baby blues. I think they're over now.

Let's hope so!

Welcome Baby Hucksley!

He's here everyone! All 8 pounds 12 ounces of him! He's even taller than his older sister at 21.5 inches. He arrived on December 20th 2009 at 2:08am. I'm such a proud mom!

It was a long, long labor at 28.5 hours. I had been in prodormal labor for a while already so when I hit 40 weeks the doctors wanted to induce. (See previous post.) Being that I had pregnancy-induced hypertension and was 4 cms they said it wouldn't be a problem. But I really wanted to know what it was like to do it naturally with no drugs. I wanted to know how far I could trust my body. I now understand the famous answer some mountain climber quipped when asked why he climbed Mt. Everest. "Because it's there!" he said. It's a lot like that.

With Bombie the birth was medicated, induced. I asked for an epidural. I tore, got stitches, healing was much, much longer. So this time we were determined to stay home as long as possible. Well, we did. Right up until transition. Labor contractions began at 9:30pm on December 18th. I timed them and they were about 12 - 18 minutes apart. I couldn't sleep through them but I did doze between them and tried to relax. Labor had definitely begun. I thought, okay, tomorrow. Boy, was I wrong!

All through the next day, labor puttered in and out. I couldn't lay down and nap, I couldn't do much except watch TV, walk around a little and time contractions. Since it was Saturday, James was home and we sat and timed them. We were waiting for them to get to 5 minutes apart or less for an hour before getting to the hospital. I had had my "show" but my water was intact so there was no rush. Somewhere in the day I got on the treadmill and walked a bit to get things going again and then he took me to Target. I was in no mood to talk to anyone or interact, but walking with him was good. Every time a contraction came, I leaned into him. We puttered some more around the house, got Chinese to eat and I tried to ignore Bombie each time she wanted to be picked up. Felt bad about that, but I just couldn't.

What else did we do? Oh yeah, we sat through about two parts of The Lord of the Rings, tried different labor positions until I decided sitting on the edge of the couch seemed to be the most comfortable. Towards the evening I began to get more vocal and moaned / hummed. That's when we knew we were getting close. At about 9:30 that night I began to shake. We were getting really close. Still, I wanted to avoid pitocin, being strapped down, etc. and we were so, so close that we wanted to get a good pattern going before leaving. At around 10 things shifted into really high gear. Contractions were beginning to come at 4 - 5 minutes apart, hurt more and there was pressure like I was sitting on the baby's head. That's when we left. I believe it was something like 10:45pm.

The hospital was about a half hour away and I had about 4 - 5 contractions on the way there. As soon as they saw us come in, they knew we were staying. The triage doctor checked me and said I was at 8 cms. Then he says, Is your baby breech? I almost died. A quick ultrasound said no. I had been checking my cervix off and on all day, so I knew anyway but it was nice to let go of that last little bit of worry. They checked me into labor and delivery at about 11:30.

Contractions were now coming 4 minutes apart and lasting about a minute or more. I had the most indescribable urge to push. I zoomed from 8 to 9.5 cms in just a few minutes and when the midwife came at 12:45 I was ready to have him out already. She broke my water and he was born in about an hour from then. No tears, no stitches. That's the beauty of the human body. I love it.

I know, I'm beginning to sound like a natural labor nazi, but the difference between Sierra's birth and this one was so huge I can't even compare it. Yes, the contractions hurt, but besides that, recovery was so much faster. I was up and walking around 9 hours after giving birth, had the catheter removed, got no stitches and walked to the car 24 hours later. I felt strong and in control, I was able to push in the position I wanted and even though I kept saying "I can't, I can't" while pushing, when the urge to push came and I was in the middle of it, it was so primal and so strong, there was no way anything could have stopped the baby's birth. I'd say pushing was about 100 times more effective without an epidural. I could tell it used every muscle in my body because everything from my ribs to my gums were sore for a day after.

If I had to give birth again this is how I would do it. But I doubt I could have done it without my husband, James. I think I fell in love with him all over again that day. He was strong for me when I couldn't be and wanted to go to the hospital early. He was there for me to lean into, all 6 feet 4 inches of him and he was there cheering me on when I was pushing our son out.

I was the one who went through labor, but it was us - James and me - who birthed our son together. I couldn't have asked for anything more.

Not Yet!

Well, as it turns out, after telling all my friends that I was having the baby induced yesterday we decided against it. I'm still hoping I will go into labor on my own and if not we will induce him next week on Wednesday morning.

More than anything, I was irritated at how the hospital staff seemed to rush me into wanting to induce the baby yesterday. Hospitals here are notorious anyway for shoving their way in between a married couple so we are always on high alert when we're in there. It just bugs me how each time we go in they make every attempt to separate James and me and then ask me if I'm being beaten. Just another reason I hate the Nanny State of California. Any wonder my blood pressure shoots up in the hospital? Ha!

Anyway, so I told the nurse what I thought about their stupid "policy" yesterday and then was being monitored for hypertension. Obviously, the BP was high throughout. So they were concerned about pre-eclampsia. Here is the most precise information I have found on Wikipedia. Yesterday, they insisted I had it, even though I had only "trace protein" in my urine (from not having eaten all day - thanks for making me run around, hospitals!) and my blood tests were normal. I finally had to ask the doctor how much protein was in my blood and she said 20mg. Excuse me? Pre-eclampsia diagnosis needs 300mg!!!

But the doctor kept wanting to send me for an induction. "But you're 40 weeks, so there's no problem." She kept insisting that it was our call but there was nothing in her demeanor that made it seem like I had a choice after SHE had decided what was best for me. Ugh. If I have another baby, it will not be in California.

So that put me on high alert. But when they start talking about how I could have a stroke or the baby could die and/or we could both have neurological damage, it gets scary real quick. But what they don't mention is that C-sections have their own issues and complications. Heck, life can be a complication - there's no way to rule out all risks. I was feeling like a trapped animal, so we decided to schedule an induction for next week. That way the boy has until 41 weeks to get here, it's still before Christmas (so he won't feel like everyone is "partied out" when he gets older and it's his birthday) and I still have a shot at this going naturally.

We'll see. Here was the caveat though. The nurse saw what I said she told me that the hospital was highly interventionist. She said she had PIH throughout both her pregnancies and her kids are just fine. She said she refused induction and an epidural for her second as well and he was healthy as can be. I think if hospitals really meant all the crap they spouted about respecting their patients and treating them well, their approach would be vastly different than just pushing people into unnecessary procedures. If you trust US hospitals with labor and delivery, do some research into the statistics. They're appalling. Appalling. And yet they have the nerve to get you to sign a waiver that says you are leaving against medical advice.

Which I did yesterday. We'll see how much more crap I have to tolerate before this baby is home.

Oh Baby Baby!

I recently went in for my three hour gestational diabetes testing. I know, I should have just skipped the one hour and gone for the longer one because I always fail the one hour. When both your parents are diabetic, you just expect it. Also when both your parents are diabetic, you also research everything you can about it and count every ounce of sugar and carbohydrates that enter your system. I mention all this before I enter into the tirade against the hospital.

Here were my numbers: fasting - 100 (5 points over); 1 hour - 169 (9 points over); 2 hours - 135 (5 points over); 3 hours - 97 (3 points under). if you ask me, those are pretty good numbers. I had an off day for fasting, but even non-diabetics are excused for one day of odd fasting numbers and where I went over was just by a few digits. No cause for alarm. And definitely not time for an intervention.

But I get a call the next day from the hospital saying I have gestational diabetes with someone reading me a script about what it means and that I am going to meet with a nutritionist and a nurse and have a blood meter ordered and this and that. Now I'm not a conspiracy theorist by a long shot, but I'm beginning to have some empathy for them. I said I have a blood meter and would use the same one. They said no, we're going to order you a new one and by the way there's a co-pay of $65. Hello? Am I the customer here or not? Are you really working in my best interest?

Also, they have a class I have to attend on Thursday afternoon. And so it goes. Besides the fact that they're going to employ a social worker to ask me if my husband beats me. (Because stress can cause gestational diabetes, get it?) I mean, seriously, this has gone far enough. You give them an inch and they want to take over your life.

By the time this was over, this gestational diabetes "help" I would get would end up costing me close to $250 (including co-pays, meters, babysitting, etc.) and a lot of heartache and stress for something I could do on my own!

So after a few minutes of handwringing and bitching on my part, James says, Why don't you call them and refuse? You are the customer. You can decline to meet with the dietician; you already know how to manage it on your own and did it very successfully the last time. Hmmm... never thought of that. I called back and declined. And the next day, they still call me and say, but we put in an order for lancets and test strips for you. Conspiracy theory, anyone? Hospitals are big business and the standards for supposedly good health and made higher and higher so you just can't get there without drugs.

I'm just sick of this whole game. I just want to have this baby already!