Saturday, May 14, 2011

Birth Story, Episode One


Here is episode one of little T.'s birth story.  I love this little guy already.  And I love my big little guy so much too.  It's so neat to see him becoming a big brother.  He loves his little brother already and loves talking to him and stroking his head.  I'm sure they'll be bickering like any siblings in a couple of years (or does that happen sooner?!) but I'm just enjoying watching O. interact with him so much at this stage.  
We are doing really well; the second time around has been a much smoother transition that the first time bringing a baby home, probably because of all the complications O. and I had after his birth.  I'm not quite as tired as I was after having O., although zombie mom has had her moments.  I actually forgot T.'s name in the middle of the night for like five whole seconds.  I called him by O.'s name, and even when I realized that it wasn't right, I couldn't quite remember his name.  I suppose it's better than when I had O. and I kept calling him Elmo, the name of a cat that we had for a couple of years when I was a teenager.  That's pretty bad when you are so exhausted you call your child by a cat's name, a cat who has been in a better place for fifteen years!

O. and I spent the morning watching Backyardigans and "Story Shoe."  He has Toy Story shoes that light up when he walks (which were a pretty good $2.00 deal at my thrift store, by the way!) and somehow the name of the movie has morphed into "Story Shoe" for him.  At about 3:00 in the afternoon, we started to get packed up to go to my sister's house for Easter dinner.  As I bent down to change O.'s diapers, I felt a little...leakage.  The thought of my water breaking briefly crossed my mind, but I pushed the thought away and chalked it up to the inevitable result of one's bladder being reduced to the size of a grape coupled with bending over to change a diaper on the floor.  I had a false alarm when I was pregnant with O. when I thought my water had broken.  My doctor came to the hospital to check on me and we realized that I had just peed a little bit.  It was fabulously embarrassing at the time, but just seems funny now.  
The thought must have been in my mind long enough for me to decide to throw my hospital bag into the van at the last minute.  We had a lovely visit with my family at my sister's house, and I tried to ignore the nagging thought in my mind that perhaps I had sprung a leak.  Later in the evening, I felt the same thing a couple more times but I was not contorting my body in any way on those occasions.  I talked it over with my hubby and we decided to go get checked out at the hospital.  I had found out at my pre-natal appointment a few days earlier that I had tested positive for GBS this time, so I knew I needed to get checked out.  We left O. at my sister's house and zipped over to the hospital close to their house.  Sure enough, their test showed positive for amniotic fluid.  We took a collective breath and headed back to my sister's house.  We explained to O. as best we could what was happening and sent him home with my parents for a sleepover.  Everyone wished us well and managed not to get too misty eyed, for which I am glad because it probably would have started my waterworks.  The tears, I mean.  Apparently, I already had enough waterworks happening elsewhere in my body.  The hospital that I was registered to deliver at was about halfway between my sister's house and my house, so it took us just over half an hour to get there and check in.  
My prenatal care had been managed by a practice that is made up of two doctors and two midwives.  The one practitioner that I had not yet met, one of the two doctors, was on call that night.  After he arrived, he wanted to do an exam to determine conclusively whether my water had in fact broken.  While he was getting everything ready, my water really broke.  No more trickle, and I think everyone was glad to avoid an exam that early in the labour.  I knew from O.'s birth experience that the fewer exams, the less chance of any infections, so I had set out to avoid any unnecessary exams.  
The doctor and I talked over the options.  Even though I desperately wanted to avoid any pitocin / synthetic oxytocin with this baby's birth, I knew it was coming.  My water had been broken for over eight hours by this point, and I had no signs of labour starting other than the same painless contractions I had been having for the past couple of months.  They were coming more consistently, but with no pains, I suspected they weren't doing anything productive.  Given the fact that my water had been broken for 24 hours with O.'s birth experience without labour starting on its own, and that he wound up with an infection that kept him in the NICU for over a week after he was born, I decided to agree to the pitocin to get labour started.  I was really impressed with the doctor when he explained that he had no intention of torturing me with the pitocin as is often the case, and that he wanted to mimic a natural, physiological birth as best as we could.  This was before I had told him anything about my experience with O.'s birth, and admitted that I was scared of having the pitocin again.  So, with some trepidation and disappointment that this was likely not going to be the natural birth that I had hoped for, I started on the pitocin at 11:30 that night, wondering if I would be able to avoid any further interventions.  

to be continued...

1 comment:

  1. doh....leaving us hanging again! but i guess that;s as much as you can get out when you are the mother of a newborn!

    you know, my water was leaking out and i didn't know it was my water that had broken. once i was in the hospital in transition and had an exam at that point did they realize my water had already broken. oops. sometimes you just don't know if it's pee or water. i mean really, how are we supposed to know the difference?

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