It all started with a dream... and ended with two units of blood.

 
*The following is a full disclosure of Graham's birth. Continue reading at your own risk. ;-)

If you're Facebook Friends with me (or a close enough friend off of Facebook that I mentioned it to you), you might remember a certain dream from when I was 38 weeks pregnant... it involved me peeing the bed. In a dream. ... In my dream, I was peeing the bed. Well, anyways, that's pretty much how my labor with Graham started.

I woke up at about 12:15 am not sure if I was peeing the bed in my dream or if I had woken up and was peeing the bed. I wasn't even sure I was peeing the bed. I wasn't sure if I was having a recurrence of that dream. ... I couldn't tell dream from reality, you know? I had only been asleep a little over an hour, so when I woke up, I stumbled to the bathroom groggy and unsure of what was happening. I soon woke Seth up to reassure myself that the puddle on the bathroom floor was real. I wanted verification that I was really awake. That this was really (finally!) happening. 

I had been pregnant for what felt like 40 years and been anxiously awaiting this new little man for so long (and through so much junk, please see this post) that I had a hard time believing it was really, truly happening. But Seth was up and alert and verifying that it was in fact real and so I immediately hopped in the shower. 

Yes. I got in the shower. My last labor began much the same way--awaking to find that I wasn't actually "peeing" the bed, though it took me awhile to wake up enough to realize what was happening. And last time, I didn't wash my hair before heading to the hospital and I have regretted it for years. Literally. I look back on those first few days with Austin and think mostly of my nasty hair. I'm serious. It was BAD. Plus, labor with Austin was 22.5 hours and so I went a day and a half with no food and regretted that as well. So I vowed that this time, should it happen similarly, I wasn't going to the hospital without a shower and some food.

By the time I finished washing my hair, my leaking water was so much/so fast/so strong that I had to have Seth bring supplies to the shower. I couldn't get out of the shower, the quantity was so much. I'd already made quite a mess all over the floor and I didn't want to make matters worse. (I must note here, that I thankfully hadn't made any mess in the bed.) Anyways, I call my neighbor Sheala, who was on stand-by for just such a situation, and she gets dressed and heads over to finish the night sleeping on our couch so that we could leave Austin asleep in his room. She arrives within a handful of minutes, we finish packing everything into my bag, and we're heading for the car.

All of this has happened within about 20 minutes, and though I woke up with zero contractions (and hadn't gone to bed with any for the first time in weeks), I was having STRONG contractions every 5 minutes at this point. We stopped at a drive-through for food, but in the 5 minutes we had been in the car, I'd become so nauseous that I didn't want anything to do with it and simply set it on the floor in the back of the car. Remarkably, Seth managed to hit like all red lights on the way to the hospital even though we were like 1 of 3 cars out at that time of morning. During the approximately 10-minute drive, the contractions had gotten so strong that I wasn't able to talk during them and was bracing against every bump.

We arrive at the hospital and leave everything in the car but my purse and walk as quickly as we can to the Labor & Delivery floor. I stop at the desk and tell them my water has broken, I'm 40.5 weeks, and etc. They ask me to fill out this tiny form (it was about 1/4 of a piece of paper) and I simply look at Seth like they're asking me to do a marathon. The pain was STRONG and OFTEN. He fills it out for me and we're shown to a room. An interior room. With no windows! Perhaps it's because the last room we'd had was so awesome (and we were in it so long, we oughtta know!), but we were both disappointed and it's not long before Seth is mentioning how much better our last room was. And then we're getting moved! :-) (He wasn't exactly complaining, just mentioning how awesome the last room was. But the squeaky wheel got some grease!) The new room didn't have quite the view as the last one, but it was certainly better than having no view at all!! (And given how long I ended up being in the room, I'm very thankful he said something!)

Then there's the formalities of getting into a gown, peeing in a cup, etc and I'm barely able to comply because now the contractions are 4 minutes apart lasting about a minute each. (This felt incredibly fast to us given that my labor with Austin didn't get that fast until I'd been laboring for well over 14 hours (post-water break) and they'd been giving me doses of pitocin.) Also, the first time the nurse checks me, I was 2-3cm. WOAH! We were elated to be so far along already. At this point it's about 2am and we call Seth's mom so that she can come to the hospital. 

The next few hours are a bit of a blur. I call Anne Marie in Germany, Kim arrives, and I'm having so many contractions and so much nausea and so much shivering that I don't get more than two 3-minute breaks in a several hour span. Here's what it was like: Contraction (big "C"), dry-heaving, contraction (little "c"), shiver (like shivering because you're extremely cold... WI winter cold), and repeat. C, d-h, c, s, and repeat. Over and over again. I would have a big, strong contraction for about a minute, start dry-heaving over a bucket beginning in the middle of it, through the end and continue until the next, smaller contraction took over. And then once that contraction (the littler one) stopped, I started with the shivers. And as soon as the shivering was done, I was back to having another Contraction. There was zero break in the cycle and I was quickly wearing out.

I need to stop and say here that I had the shivers and nausea last time, but had assumed since that time that it was because of the penicillin (which I later realized I am allergic to) or the pitocin doses that they gave me. I did not think that they were simply a part of My Labor. So when I had them this time, I was fully unprepared (mentally) for them. I imagined laboring through the contractions naturally and efficiently and taking breaks as is recommended--I've even heard of people napping while in active labor! There was barely enough strength and time to breathe, let alone nap! It seemed everything we had been taught in our Bradley classes was out the window (again) because my water had broken (again) and I was connected via hep-lock to my antibiotic (again) and thus confined to my bed (again). (Side note: I've read that the statistical chances of your water breaking as a beginning to your labor is like 15%. I'm at 100%. ... Seth says I'm batting a thousand.)

Anyways, a few hours into the process and I'm exhausted. They decide to check me again (they don't like doing that very often once your water has broken) and find that I'm 6-7. I was both happy and sad at that news. The fact that my body was doing this on its own was so exciting (no pitocin this time!), but I didn't know how much longer I could physically stand. If I could have heard some guarantee of another 45 minutes or something, it would have been fine. I could have looked ahead and charged through, but there was no such thing coming at me, and I was fearful of wearing out so much during labor that I'd not have any energy left to push with.

At about 5am, Seth and I agree it's time to ask The Man with the Happy Cart to come to help me out. We tell the nurse we want the epidural, and The Man walks in like 30 seconds later. Literally. And angels started singing, I think. (I think it was the same guy as last time too, because I remember him being very efficient and at the same time wondering where he falls on the Autism spectrum given his awkwardness. Very nice, but very socially awkward. I'm such a "psycho" at heart --and in training-- that I'm laboring and wondering about the epidural man's place on the Autism spectrum! ??) Anyways, I'm told to sit sideways, lean forward, hold still, etc. The pain is so great and shivering so strong, that Seth steps forward to help hold my shoulder and is very quickly rebuffed by The Man. (I asked Seth about that later--how it felt to be rather forcefully removed from your wife when she's shaking, dry-heaving, contracting, and sobbing from the combination of everything. He said it was fine. :-| He said he knew the doctor knew what was best and the emotional side never occurred to him. Those Engineers, I tell you...) I've never been in such agony. I was sobbing this sorta tearless cry, shivering, contracting, getting pinched and prodded, etc. The "little pinch" hurts more this time than I remember it hurting last time, but I'm in so much pain everywhere else that I don't much notice it.

Anyways, soon the medicine is kicking in and my personality comes back. I start talking again for the first time in hours. The difference is so apparent to Seth that he calls me Chatty Cathy before stretching out in the recliner and taking a nap. ! Kim helps keep me company during this time; it was a very wonderful time. I keep the epidural on so that the shaking and dry-heaving stop, but can still feel each and every one of my contractions. They tell you to allow yourself to feel "pressure, but not pain" and well, I allow some pain. Not pain like before, but definitely more than pressure. It's an experience that I wanted to feel. I wanted to know when I was contracting and I wanted to know him coming out (when it was time for that). Kim and Seth alternately watch my contractions on the monitor over the course of the next 3 hours or so and I correctly tell them when the big one and little ones start and stop.

About 8am, Kim and Seth decide to head out and get breakfast at the cafeteria. While on their way out, Seth sees Dr. B in the lobby. He texts me the news, which means to the both of us that he must be the on-call doctor, and I reply "Awesome." Not that I have anything against Dr. B. Not really. He delivered Austin. He was the on-call doctor when I spent an afternoon there the day the truck hit me. I should have been more happy and less sarcastic. But I was hoping for my doctor. I had heard she was on-call that day, and so the disappointment was mostly because it wasn't her, not because it was him. He comes to see me while they are out eating their breakfast and after a quick check declares "She's ready to start pushing!" I was SO elated!!! 

We wait to make any big changes until Seth and Kim get back (I was SO excited to share the news with Seth), and then we move into Push Mode. I push with just the nurse and Seth in the room for about a half hour before they call in Dr. B. About three more pushes (and a removal of the cord from around his neck--what is it with me and water breakings and cords around necks!?), Graham is out. It's at this point that we realize just how scary stuff must have been with Austin's delivery because instead of having like 15 people in the room, including an entire team just for him, there's one person there for Graham and two for me. Plus Seth. AND Dr. B laid Graham on my stomach immediately and I got to watch Seth cut the cord. That was SO cool. I hadn't even realized I'd missed that from Austin's birth, but it was very cool. (Highly suggest that.)

It's after they cut the cord and take Graham over to the warmer to get measured that things start to take a downward turn. Seth is over taking pictures of Graham and calling out all manner of interesting tidbits--his weight, his height, that they got all his toes in the book this time (Austin's missing a toe in the baby book footprint), etc. He then takes a picture of the tv. --We had been "watching" Fox News all morning (it was on, the sound wasn't), and noticed no fewer than 3 stories involving someone named Graham (either the first or last name) come on. It was like total confirmation of us using that name. It was awesome.

Anyways, Dr. B collects the cord blood (which we donate), and I see a needle come out. My immediate reaction is that I'm totally bummed because I had really hoped to avoid stitches this time around. It was the thing I had hoped most for--not requiring stitches. But then he's asking for more "laps"--simple gauze pads to the rest of us. (I can't promise that "laps" is exactly what he's saying, but it's what it sounded like to me.) And then he's asking for another needle. And asking the nurse to call in three other nurses. By name. He asks for three specific nurses. And then more "laps." And I'm getting even more thankful for the decision to get the epidural. Each needle that comes out multiplies my thankfulness a thousand times over!! And each needle prompts me to press the Happy Button.

By this time, they are done with Graham and Seth is pacing the floor with him, waiting for them to be done with me so we can have a minute together, just the three of us. Well, after quite a long time... well over an hour (I think) of working on me, and all manner of gauze and nurses and needles and the like, one nurse says to the others "I think it's time we send dad to the nursery with baby. OK!?" It was clearly code for "Get him out of here. Now." I wink at Seth to reassure him I'm fine and tell him to take a million pictures. That nurse is then using some metal contraption seen only in movies to assist Dr. B. That's when I started to get worried. And he's mumbling to her "See? Each time I get one taken care of, there's another one." ! Not exactly the words you want to hear. But yet, I still wasn't really worried or feeling scared. I did, however, continue to increase the frequency with which I was pressing my Happy Button!

I'm fully awake and alert this whole time, but I'm too scared to interrupt the process and ask any questions until he says they need to order two units of blood for me. (Um, excuse me!?) I tell them I'm A+ and then ask about what's going on requiring me to need blood transfusions. The very sweet, very wonderful nurse (the one holding the metal thing, the one who kicked Seth out, the one who was acting as a surgery aid to Dr. B) tells me that there were a few internal scratches that they are working on getting patched up but that everything is "going to be just fine." She explains that I've lost a good amount of blood and are going to need some new to replace what I've lost.

The next bit is a whirlwind. (I write that, but frankly, the whole 9 hours is a bit of a whirlwind!) At some point, my new blood arrives and they are inserting an iv into my right arm at the elbow (my hep-lock was on my left, down at my wrist), connecting me to a pulse ox on my right forefinger, making sure that the blood pressure cuff on my right arm checks me every 5 minutes, giving me a benedryl capsule, and connecting me to pitocin through the hep-lock (to help with the afterbirth stuff), switching the solution of my epidural to something weaker (and I'm told I'll be connected all night), and putting those inflating/deflating leg cuffs on me to prevent clots. It was a zoo!

And at some point, Dr. B gets to a point of feeling satisfied with the results and the nurses start cleaning up the room. Seth comes back in to check on me and shows me pictures he took on the camera. Kim had left by that point to relieve our neighbor of Austin Duty, but David is still there and comes back to say hi. I'll admit that I was a bit of a non-host for guests that day. Despite feeling quite well generally, I kept passing out. I worked my way toward sitting up (pushing the bed up a couple inches every 15 minutes or so) several times and each time I got anywhere close to upright, I was back to passing out and they were lowering me and doing all manner of things to keep me from losing reality entirely. I begged the nurse for some juice, even a sip, and was finally allowed to sip some apple juice late afternoon. My voice was shot from not having any moisture and in addition to losing so much blood, I hadn't eaten since dinner the day before and simply wanted for some calories.

(Did you know that with each bag of blood you're given, you're also given an entire bag of saline? Did you know that they automatically give you a benedryl when they give you blood? Did you know that if you do receive a blood transfusion that they will also simultaneously draw blood from you to check your "levels" (this seemed so ironic to me--plus I hardly had any veins available!)?)

Later that afternoon, I'm told that because I'm still getting blood and thus need more hands-on care, I won't be heading up to the recovery room until the next day. It's at this point that they agree to take off the pulse ox and have begun to monitor blood pressure every 15 minutes instead of every 5 minutes. I'm still quite immobilized, though, and family is there taking pictures and simply laying Graham on a pillow in front of me because I barely have arms enough to hold him. Attempting to feed him didn't happen for well over 10 hours after his birth. (I kept asking about that.. didn't he need to eat something, didn't I need to hurry up and get him established at the nursing business, etc. But the nurses all told me that he would be good for 12 hours, and if at that point I still wasn't able to attempt nursing, we'd address it. Thankfully, they got me to a point where I could try within that window.)

Once I did try nursing with him, he latched on like a champ! It was like this kid had been doing it for years!! And they continued to bring him to me all night, every three hours, and we did great together. It was nice to finally be able to hold him, finally be able to spend some time just looking at him, finally spend some quality Momma/Graham time. He's been great ever since, too, though we had a small hiccup post-procedure, but that only lasted half a day.

The next morning, they begin unhooking me from all the rest of my contraptions... iv, hep-lock, blood pressure cuff, leg cuffs, epidural, etc. and they take me to my new room. I get there and the first thought I have is how amazingly soft the bed is. It was like a cloud compared to the L&D bed! The day was a bit of a blur... Seth was at work, Kim and Austin came to visit, and I took a nap during the floor's Naptime (a 2-4pm break where no one is allowed to disturb patients). I had wanted to take a shower, but hadn't been up walking around since I got to the hospital and so was told I wasn't allowed to get up and move about without a nurse present. Seth comes after work and we have our Special Meal together (I had steak and he had a crab and shrimp pasta dish). It was a very subdued day and I enjoyed it. Kim had been taking care of Austin all day, so Seth hurried home to relieve her so she could get home to watch the debate and get to bed at a reasonable time herself. 

Dr. B came that next morning to double-check that I was ready to go home, and I surprised myself with how good I felt and that I did simply want to go home. He told me at that point that I had some internal tears, that they are very uncommon (he says he sees them once every three years or so), are unlikely to happen to me again should we try for Number 3, that the stitches wouldn't work--they kept pulling out, so they ended up having to pack the area to stop the bleeding which did finally work. It was nice to finally get a full description of what happened. He then tells me to make an appointment for 4 weeks out so that he can approve me for "intercourse" and I about died. I don't normally blush, but I was full-on red faced! Which struck me as a big odd given how up in my business this man had been, but once he mentions "intercourse" I can't handle it!? (He's old enough to be my father.)

(Seth took Austin to a friend's house mid-morning so he could come get me from the hospital without a toddler in tow. Our friend fed him lunch and then put him down for a nap at her house which meant we had until the mid-afternoon to get home and get slightly settled before the tornado of Austin came whirling through.)

The nurses had told me that the swelling I was experiencing was going to get worse before better, and it wouldn't be for a few days that I would come to fully realize the extent of how bad "worse before better" could be. I mean, my ankles and feet were so swollen from all the fluids that I literally could not bend my ankles. Could not. The two things they told me to do to help the swelling go down were to walk and drink water. This was a bit funny to me given that my discharge papers said I wasn't to walk for at least a week-post release and the fact that my feet were so big that not a single pair of shoes would fit and that they hurt so bad when I did walk on them (they literally felt like they might explode). But I attempted the water as best as I could--I about drank myself silly with water, and was all the more thankful for our working plumbing!

The swelling did finally start to go away, but it wasn't for at least a week. One day it simply started receding like lake waters after a flood. Starting with my feet and working its way up! I don't understand exactly why that is... that the worst of it happens/pools in the feet region, but the feet are the first thing to start shrinking (I still have some swelling in my lower back, for example). It sure is nice to see my ankles again (and wear cute shoes)! I took rubbing alcohol to all of the tape marks on my arms and that made me feel a lot more normal--not looking at tape residue all over the place (Which I simply must remember to do sooner next time!). But I still have a bruise from where the blood transfusion iv was inserted, and I'm writing this 12 days later, so I'm not without any trace of recent childbirth/blood transfusion/etc. I also still have some significant pain, but didn't actually have any external tearing/need for stitches, and can best describe the pain as an internal cramping sensation (but regardless of how it's best described, I'm quite over it at this point).

Looking back at the pictures taken the afternoon of Graham's birth, I look a hot mess. I'm swollen so much I resemble a blimp. My coloring is pale yellow. My arms are full of tubes and needles. But I have clean hair! ;-) The first picture of us as a family of 4 is probably the worst picture of me in history. It's terrible. But none of that really matters now that I have a healthy baby man to hold and love.

Graham has continued to an easy baby, only crying when he's hungry or has a diaper that needs addressing. He still eats like a champ and doesn't spit up. He literally has had spit up like 3 times. I didn't even know it was possible to burp a baby and not have at least a teaspoon of liquid come flying out! Austin has been great with Graham so far and seems to understand that I can't get up to help him when Graham is "getting his milk." The only "problem" we've had with Austin toward Graham is him wanting to hug him too much. He'd hug him nonstop if we'd let him!

And that's the story of Graham's birth... how it started with a dream and ended with two units of blood. I'm so excited to be the mom of two boys and I look forward to lots of fun with my Big, Middle, and Little Mans!