First off, let me just say that we didn't plan any of our pregnancies but I wouldn't change a thing. We have 3 of the most beautiful little girls ever created (both inside and out). It's strange how God knows what you need even before you do.
When I found myself pregnant with my first child, I had mixed feelings. Excitement, anticipation, love, FEAR. Wow, I was pregnant. Could I handle this. We had planned on having children, but never established a time line. I'm glad we didn't. It helped us to put the needs of our children before our own.
Anyway, so there I was, pregnant. I told myself that women have been doing this for thousands of years so there is no reason I can't too. I kept repeating that one to myself as the pregnancy wore on (and on and on and on). It sort of became my mantra. I didn't have what I would call the easiest pregnancy. I was one of the lucky ones (NOT) who had morning sickness (ALL DAY). I wasn't sick enough to require medication. Just sick enough to throw up a couple of times a day. I remember once on our way home my husband, Jim, asked me what I wanted for dinner. Following my wave of nausea, I told him I didn't want to talk about it. He remained quiet for the rest of the ride home. As soon as we pulled into our parking lot, he said "Why don't you want to talk about it." I immediately opened the car door and threw up on the asphalt. Leaning back in, I said "That's why." The dear man never asked me what I wanted to eat again. Luckily, I was able to find some relief from the nausea. I bought sea sickness wrist bands and although the
pressure of wearing them was uncomfortable, at least I didn't throw up anymore. So
morning sickness was something I survived.
Just as the morning sickness was starting to subside, I found out that I was a gestational diabetic. Bring out the violins... this sucked big time!! How unfair is it to be diabetic when your are pregnant? This was supposed to be a time when I could eat anything I wanted, fried mozzarella sticks, brownies topped with ice-cream and whipped topping, Payday candy bars, etc...and not worry about getting fat. As a matter of fact, I was SUPPOSED to get fat. Well, when your a gestational diabetic, your not allowed to eat all the good stuff, but guess what, you're still going to get fat. The one good thing about being diabetic, was that it forced me to get into some sort of exercise routine to manage my glucose levels. I chose swimming, and let me tell you, it was AWESOME!! Nothing is better than weighing 170 pounds and getting into the water and feeling WEIGHTLESS!
So my pregnancy was progressing well and as I neared my due date, the doctor said I
was doing well with my diet and the baby was perfect. He estimated that he/she would
weigh in at a "smidge under 8". Since I was diabetic, he didn't want me to go too far past my due date though so they scheduled an induction in case I went over. I was due on a Saturday, so the induction was scheduled for the next Monday at 10:00am. Saturday came and went and so did Sunday. We planned to leave for the hospital the next morning and set our alarm for 7:00am. At 5:50am, I woke up with my first contraction, at which time I felt my water break. I elbowed Jim and told him it was "time" to get a move on. I went into the bathroom and noticed that I had meconium in the amniotic fluid. I called the doctor and he told me to get ready and go on in to the hospital. My first and
second contractions were 14 minutes apart and the rest were 5 minutes apart anyway so I took a shower and off we went.
We arrived at the hospital a short (LONG) time later, and were taken up to the labor and delivery area. Unfortunately, it was a full moon or something and everyone and their aunt was delivering a baby. They didn't have room for me at the inn so they stuck me in recovery with some new mommies. It wouldn't have been so bad except there was no
bathroom in the recovery room and I had to walk what felt like miles to get to the
bathroom. I don't know how long it was but I did have to stop twice to wait out
contractions. Anyway, when I got back from the bathroom, I was met by the
anesthesiologist. YIPPEE!!! Or so I thought. I absolutely hated getting the epidural. It was
the most painful thing I've ever experienced. More painful than delivering a baby. I had
the distinct pleasure of receiving 2 epidurals that day. The first one was almost in place
(just needed taped) but the baby's heart rate dropped to 45 and they had to quickly pull
out the epidural catheter and place me on my left side giving me oxygen until everything
was back to normal. Then it was time to try again. So, I held as still as I could while an
obscenely large needle was jammed back into my back and I had contraction after
contraction.
Finally it was in...YES!! It was great....for about 30 minutes...NO!!
Then it stopped working. By this time, a room had cleared and I was in my very own Labor and Delivery room. The
anesthesiologist came in twice to try to give me more relief. The first time, they upped
the medication, the second time they changed it to a different drug. Nothing worked
(Later we found out that the catheter had slipped out and the medication was being pumped into the bed sheets ~ by the way, they still charged me for it).
Finally after 9 hours of labor, I was ready to push. This part was actually pretty good. It
felt good to push. At least if felt good for the first 2 hours. After that, it just felt tiring. The
nurse told me that we were almost there (couldn't say as much for the doctor. He never
made it). So, I pushed some more. After a while, the resident OB came in and was all
chipper and bubbly. I asked her for an episiotomy and she had the nerve to say "What
makes you think you'll need an episiotomy?" This was the only time I got nasty. After
informing her of my point of view, she left and came back about 30 minutes later. She
then proceeded to give me an episiotomy at which point my band new beautiful baby
daughter cannonballed right out of my body and past the doctor. Luckily, the good doctor
(NOT) had lightning fast reflexes (NOT) and managed to catch Ariana under her arm
before she was able to complete her bungee jump.
A few minutes later, I got to hold my sweet little baby. There are no words to describe
how that felt. (Doctor walks in stage left). My little one weighed in at not a "smidge under
8" but more accurately a "smidge" over 9. She was 9 pounds 3 ounces to be exact. Wow,
that was almost 5 years ago. My Ariana will start kindergarten this fall.
It sounds like I had a horrible pregnancy. And I suppose it wasn't smooth sailing by any stretch of the
imagination, but it wasn't the worst either. And what could be better than the end result?
I have to say that even though parts of my pregnancy were so yucky (for lack of
a better word), it was a good time too. I loved feeling the movement of my child in my
womb. I loved that my husband found me sexy even when I was a whale. I loved reading
to my baby and having my husband try to fit headphones on my stomach so he could
play music to our growing child (Bach, Queen, Garth, Sebastian the Crab, you name it). I
loved the attention I got from little old ladies in elevators.
In a way, I even loved the gestational diabetes that forced me to exercise and eat right so that my baby was
healthy and I was too.
My birth story doesn't end there though. About 2 years after Ariana was born, we
were surprised to find out we were pregnant with my second daughter Gillian.
Oops. She was a blessing though as well because she kept us from buying a house that we would have
never been able to afford if I had any desire to be a stay at home mom. Which I did, by
the way. Anyway, this pregnancy was quite a bit better than the first. I only threw up 4
times the entire pregnancy....WOO HOO!! I was also lucky not to have gestational
diabetes with Gillian. This made it much easier on me let me tell you. The only really
annoying problem was that I had severe pubic symphysis pain. It was so painful to walk. It
hurt every time I tried to swing my left leg forward. It felt like my leg would fall off. That
aside, it was a pretty easy pregnancy.
Because of Ariana's large size, my OB
decided to take Gillian 10 days early so she wouldn't get so big. I also had to have a c-section due to a fibroid they had removed
shortly after Ariana was born.
Apparently it is a bad thing to have your uterus split open during labor.
So, I was scheduled for my c-section. I didn't need an epidural, but I had a
spinal instead which is basically the same thing. It still hurt like a ... well, you know. The
cool thing about the spinal, is that as it's wearing off, you have to try to move your legs. It
is a strange feeling being able to see your legs and trying to tell them to move, only
they can't. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be paralyzed. Anyway, I had my spinal at
around 7:50am. They started cutting me open at around 8:00am and by 8:26am I had
Gillian. The first thing she heard was a chorus of "look at those cheeks". Gillian weighed in
at 9 pounds 8 ounces. She is my little charmer. She even tries charming us when she's
getting into trouble. It makes it hard not to smile when I'm trying to be stern.
When Gillian was about 9 months, Jim and I brushed elbows again and oops, surprise!!! At
the time I got pregnant with Sarah, I was still breastfeeding Gillian. So, I took some time
to wean Gillian (pediatrician's orders) and began preparing for our newest addition.
My pregnancy with Sarah was almost identical to the one with Gillian. Still nauseous a lot, but
only threw up 4 times. Still had the pubic pain and was lucky not to be considered
diabetic (although I was borderline toward the end). Again I had to have a c-section.
Everything went well and by breakfast, I had another beautiful little girl (9 pounds 2
ounces). Sarah also heard a chorus of "look at those cheeks" when she was born.
Everything was so similar to how it was with Gillian, that we kept calling Sarah "Gill". The
poor thing. Sarah is such a happy baby. She is really starting to show her personality
now (8 months). She loves to laugh and has the cutest little dimple in her left cheek.
People always ask if we're going to try for a boy. I'm not sure. We do girls so well. Why
mess with perfection right? Actually, managing three kids is hard. I'm not sure if I'm
ready to do it again. On the other hand, I love babies. And, I'm sure that Jim and I will
brush elbows again in the very near future, so who knows. God may have some plans of
His own. |