I was discharged last night. I was apprehensive about leaving without Cortland, but know that he is being well taken care of.
I called this morning to check on him and was told he has been moved from the little stand with all the blinking lights to a little crib. This is a step in the right direction and means he is improving. Yay!
Just wanted to let everyone know that Cortland is in NICU for observation. Last night his temperature dropped a little bit and they are making sure that the bruising on his head, from his rather traumatic birth, isn't an issue. They do know that the bruising is causing some Jaundice. He is currently hanging out in a neon purple lit bassinet. I heard Alan complimenting Cort on his "sweet 1980's pimped out crib."
Here is a picture from this morning in the NICU. He's a sleepy little angel.
They gave me a drink yesterday that was pure citric acid for indigestion, right before the c-section and my throat and tongue are painfully swollen. I think my citrus allergy is back.
Also, I'm laying in the hospital bed with my arm on a pillow, but keep thinking that it's Grace and that I'm squishing her.
I took some drug called Molly Polly Something-or-Other in my IV last night and I still feel the smushy=brain affects .
Here's a cleaned up version what happened yesterday leading up to Cortland's birth. I woke up at 2AM to quite a lot of bleeding. I wanted to wait to see if it would be enough to warrant a hospital visit before waking Alan. That poor man doesn't get enough sleep lately what with me up and down in bed constantly.
At 2:38 AM I went downstairs to watch some TV. I was down there for maybe 5 minutes when I felt this big swoosh of fluid. At first I thought I was bleeding to death, but then saw that the fluid was clear. Oops. A person can go to the hospital to stop bleeding and hopefully redirect pre-term labor, but I knew a person can't divert labor if your water breaks.
I woke Alan up, we checked the bags to see if we forgot anything and we were off to the hospital by 3:15AM. Contractions started about the time we got in the car.
I learned just how low my thresh-hold for pain is. From now until eternity I will know that any woman who gives birth without any pharmaceutical intervention is clearly a descendant of She-Ra, Princess of Power and/or that other chick who has the long black hair who fights evil in a leotard that looks like it could give a tremendously painful wedgy if left in the wrong hands.
I'm not sure how long I laid in the bed, clinging to the guard rail, contipating where we were going find a suragate mother to put this baby in so I didn't have to continue with the pain. I dialated quickly to a 3 and the nice nurse lady had the epidural person in the room within 45 minutes so when I hit dialation to a 4 I could have immediate relief.
An epidural is the way to go. I have never felt any drug that was so wonderful. It was instant relief. Alan and I took a short nap until Dr. Ruffin came to measure my cervix at 8 :30AM. She said I was completely effaced and my cervix was a 10. She asked if we were ready to have a baby.
I pushed for two hours before we threw in the towel and faced the fact that the baby wasn't coming out the usual way. He was completely stuck. I requested the C-Section and the doctor agreed that that was probably the best option, even though she doesn't like doing sections on such young babies.
And here is a good place to pause in the story and tell you how wonderful a coach my husband was. He was calm and steady. He was my advocate. It was obvious that his main goal was to keep me from getting too tired too quickly. I was the one pushing, but he was the one in charge. It felt wonderful knowing I was being so taken care of and protected.
They prepped me for surgery and (here's the part that's gving me such trouble now) gave me a shot of pure citrus in case I have indigestion during the procedure. I knew there was going to be trouble when going down the liquid burned my throat and tonsils and left my tongue tingling like a sparkler fire-bits were landing in my mouth.
During the C-Section I could hear the doctor's comments as she was trying to pull the baby from the top and someone else was directed to put the baby's head from the bottom. I heard something about there being a horribly strong suction on the baby due to my phenominal pushing. If I know anything it's that I am quiter good at pushing as if I need to poo!
Cortland was finally freed at 11:21AM. I have never felt such terror as I did in those few moments from the time they said he was out until the first angry cries coming from our baby. And in an instant that terror turned into joy and relief like I have never felt , and will probably never feel again, when I heard Cortland's 1st cry.
He is amazing.
The new pain meds they gave me about 4 are starting to kick in as is the Aleve that is reducing the swelling in my throat. I'm off to take a short nap before requesting our little angel be brought to the room.
I've been searching message boards and googling trying to find out how a person can tell if they are leaking amniotic fluid or if they are simply piddling a little in their pants. Not having any children yet, I have no idea what human urine smells like. Now I could tell if, say Grace, were piddling in my britches. Her pee, I know.
After a couple days of research I know that it's probably not amniotic fluid because the baby is still very active. Still wanting to be sure, I have looked into ordering the special litmus paper to measure the ph level of whatever a woman happens to be leaking. Only problem is it's rather expensive and you have to order it and then wait for it to come in.
But wait! I then read that the dip strips used to measure the ph level in a fish tank will work. Now Alan doesn't have any fish tank dip strips because Memphis water is pretty perfect. BUT we do have swimming pool dip strips.
The ph level didn't register correctly, but I do know, for a fact, that I am not leaking chlorine. Go me.
Morning sickness has started again. Except it happens in the middle of the night. I thought it was from the stupid red iron pills I have to take, but I throw up whether I take them or not. I then thought maybe it was just when I ate too much. Nope. Not that either. I think it's just plain ole 3rd trimester morning sickness in the middle of the night.
My mom told me that she enjoyed pregnancy simply because she decided that she would. I also remember she didn't even know she was pregnant until she was half way through. And I know for a fact that she didn't enjoy the "flu" she had for the 1st 4 months.
I have really tried to apply my mom's philosophy to "just decide to enjoy this pregnancy". Sometimes it is wonderful. It's fun to watch the baby move from one side to the other. And sometimes I can sit in just the right way and don't feel the pressure in my pelvis. And sometimes I can go all day without heartburn. I don't take those moments for granted. I notice them and I smile and I rub my tummy and am happy I'm pregnant.
But tonight, as I was hanging over the toilet and puking up what was once a really good dinner, I thought of my mom and I stuck my tongue out at her. I silently told her, "Lady, it's been 35 years since you did this and I think your memory is slipping!"
Tonight the baby class teacher tried to make me feel better by telling us that a baby measuring 5.9 lbs at 33 weeks does not necessarily mean we will having a big headed baby. She said that the head size of the father is an indication of the head size of the baby.
When she said that I looked at Alan's head and thought that it looked awfully big to me. But Alan assured me that his hats always fit a little loose.
She said little girls should be taught at a young age to set their sites on men with tiny pin-heads.
She also said that ultrasound estimates can be off by up to 1.5 lbs. That made me feel better until I realized the 1.5 lbs can go either way. But at least I've been assured that my husband has a pin-head and that it only looks big because of his hair. Phew. Disaster averted.
I dreamt last night that during a previous abdominal surgery the doctor accidentally sewed a dish towel inside my tummy. Over time the dishtowel had attached to some vital bits inside me and was pulling my insides really hard.
I'm awake now and it feels like the dish towel is still in there.
I was just thinking that I was a little chilly, but a blanket would be just too pesky, what with my hands always getting stuck under it. And then I saw this wonder product on TV solves the missing hands problem. It's a backward monk robe! Yay! Problem solved! The Snuggie Check out the video in the middle of the screen.
Good Grief. 1st of all, isn't a Snuggie the thing the jocks give other guys along with Swirlies? And 2nd, this product was better when I was a kid and it was more like a sleeping bag with a zipper up the front and flaps that snapped over your shoulders so that your hands don't getting stuck under it. (Obviously my favorite selling point *rolling my eyes*) If you needed to move off the couch fast you had better be good at the potato sack race.
I love the weird products that start getting advertised around Christmas.
I would watch movies such as Home Alone I and II, and City Slickers, and chuckle quietly to myself. These silly movies were okay, but nothing special. And then the holidays would roll around and I'd get to watch those same shows again with my dad. It was like watching a completely different movie when I watched with him.
Now he was not a man to chuckle quietly to himself. Oh no. His laughter would start out as a little tee hee hee and gradually grow into this huge giggle-fest complete with tears running out of his eyes! His laugh was completely contagious. Pretty soon the whole room would be laughing and half the people weren't even watching the movie. He was so fun to be around.
A rare picture of my dad in full laugh mode! (Please ignore the baby trying to drink beer. It was a different time back then. And I'm sure it's apple juice anyway.)
I'm watching The Money Pit right now. I don't know if I ever watched The Money Pit with him, but when I see it now I get the giggles that sound just like his. Complete with tears and an occasional snort.
Isn't he handsome?
Almost every picture I can find where my dad is making this happy face has my mom in it. Go figure!