Happy Draft Day!!

Happy NFL Draft Day!!

(I know I'm a dork, but I just had to dress E up for this "boy holiday")

In the spirit of draft day, here are E's 6 months stats:

Head circumference: 43 cm (just above 10th percentile)

Length: 27" (50th percentile)

Weight:14 lbs 10 oz (below 3rd percentile)

E hasn't really gained much weight in the last two months. The Dr weighed him twice to make sure the weight was right. I guess what is happening is that I am not producing as much milk as I should be. I cannot tell you how badly I felt while the Dr was expressing his concern about E's weight and what the possible reasons could be. Don't get me wrong, he was wonderful and kind, I just felt so bad, like I'd failed my kid.

Here's the thing. I have been working really hard to loose weight. It needed to be done, and I just finally decided to do it. It has been hard and, at times, frustrating. Frustrating because I am doing it the way I should in order to maintain the quality and quantity of my milk, which is only loosing one pound a week. Can I tell you how maddening it is to work so hard all week to hop on the scale and only see one pound difference? Grrr. But I have learned to take it in stride, remembering that giving E what he needs is a fair trade for my slow progress.

Except he isn't getting what he needs.

While the Dr was telling me that E didn't realize he wasn't eating as much, because the milk supply dwindled slowly, and he just got used to it (kinda like he was on a diet), I just wanted to cry. You mean I have been weaning my kid off FOOD? It was such an awful feeling. I felt I had been putting myself before E. (and if I've been putting myself before him, who else have I been putting myself before?) I know it makes no sense, 'cause how was I to know I wasn't feeding him enough? He didn't fuss any more than normal. But I still felt the guilt. Guilt for my caloric intake being more important to me than E's. It was just an awful feeling. I felt so bad all day that I wasn't eating enough to feed E that I went and ate a cheese steak sandwich for lunch. Then I felt guilty for eating such an unhealthy lunch (I also just felt gross). There was no way for me to win.

There is some hope, though. Dr suggested I try the herbal supplement fenugreek, so I am popping those like candy. It should help me increase my supply while still doing what I've been doing. I might still be able to have the best of both worlds and nurse and loose weight! I'm crossing my fingers, anyway. The Dr was so concerned with E's weight that we have to go back in in one month(rather than the usual 3 months) and check to see if it is working. If not, then we'll probably have to switch to formula. There is nothing wrong with that, but for me, I want to try and nurse him for a while longer. So we'll see what happens and hopefully we'll get E's stats up so he can make weight! :)

*I finally uploaded all the pics from the camera--took 12 minutes-- so more pics and posts soon!

It Happened.

Just filling in the blanks from last year. Here's what happened after E got here:

My man turned 34!! (this is a terrible picture, but we were both dead tired. I went to the ER in the middle of the night the night before for a gallbladder attack, and we didn't get any sleep. My awesome friend watched all the kids...including newborn E for us!) My mom came to the rescue and brought his birthday pie (as per tradition)... and I think dinner too, but the Lortab  erased that memory...

Halloween. I even made the girl's costumes! M was Tigerlily(From Peter Pan), H was Wendy(also from Peter pan) and E was a giraffe...we decided later to call him a lost boy (they dress up in animal costumes in the Disney version) to fit the theme.

We had hot cocoa with eyeballs after trick or treating :)

M turned 9!!!! I cannot believe how grown up my sweet girl is getting. I love her so much. She has been such a big help with the baby. She is kind and thoughtful and smart and fun to be with. We just had a little family party(rootbeer floats her treat of choice), and later in the month she got to take 3 friends to the movies.

I turned 30. (booo!!) No pictures because I am vain--I was only 2 weeks post pardum and exhausted. And I was in a bad place emmotionally. Worst birthday ever. That's okay. 31 will be waaay better :)

{more to come--I have to upload the pics from my camera first. There's like 400something pics on there...}

Back it up a little

{Okay, so, here's the problem. I think eloquently. Somehow when my thoughts go from my brain to my mouth or hands, they leave any trace of eloquence behind. I haven't posted this, even though it has been in my draft box a while. It just didn't come out the way it was in my brain. I haven't found time to revise-not like it would help much- so here it is, rough edges and all.} 

Can we just back up the clock a little and pretend that it is still October? E was born and think I should document the experience. So, pretend the air is crisp, there are red and gold leaves still clinging to the trees--and some crunching beneath your feet, pumpkins sit on porchsteps...are you there yet? It's early October. Here's how it all went down:

{This is your chance to bail if you don't wanna know}

It was Sunday. I was 5 days overdue. At my previous Dr.'s appointment we had made The Plan. Because I had a c-section with my oldest, labor and delivery are a little trickier for me. I am not allowed to be induced, and hospital's policy is that I can't labor there unless the Dr. is on campus or less than 5 minutes away, and I have to have an epidural in case of emergency (great by me!). My Dr.'s office is farther than that from the hospital my insurance covers. So, my Dr (bless his soul--he's the best!)arranged to have another OB be his "5 min man" and then I could labor there while he still saw his patients. Since I couldn't be induced and he didn't want me to go more than a week over, we planned on having the Dr break my water first thing when he was on call on Tues--7 am. If that didn't work, we'd do another C-section (I did NOT want to ever have another one of those). That was the plan, anyway.

Sunday Morning I felt fine. Nothing going on. I went to church just like normal. I came home. Made lunch. Hung out with my fam. After dinner, I started to feel funny. I had some contractions. I didn't think much of them, though. I had been having braxton hicks regularly since week 17. No big deal. They stopped, anyway.  I gave myself a pedicure and went to bed around 11. At midnight I woke up. In pain. Major pain. Contractions were coming strong and steady alternating 2 and 3 min apart. I decided to hop in the shower to see if that would stop the contactions. It didn't. All that happened is that they got worse...to where I couldn't stand up during them. At 12:30 I had my hubby call my mom to come and watch the kids while we went to the hospital. For some reason, I was determined to finish "getting ready". I had to blow dry and straight iron my hair, put makeup on and get dressed in clothes. (I did this with my other births, too...I guess it gives me a feeling of control) So I did, pausing every 2-3 min to kneel on the floor during contractions. I quickly threw some things in a bag--I hadn't packed 'cause I thought I  still had one more day to do that (even though a friend had told me at church I really should have one ready...) and had Hubby give me a blessing. Then just waiting for my mom to come. I. Was. In. Major. Pain.

My mom came and we left almost immediately. We got in the car at 1:14 am. It is supposed to take 18 min to get to the hospital. But there was construction. And my husband drove the speed limit the whole way. I had to keep telling myself to not yell at him, but I so wanted to. Why was he driving so slow?? Did he not know how badly I hurt?? I was glad he did when we passed 3 cars that had been pulled over. I did not want to have to stop. For anything.

We finally got to the hospital at 1:36 am. We got to the desk and had to wake up the nurse there (she was seriously asleep on her arms at the desk). I could barely talk. I just stared at her and she looked at me and she said, "I'll go get you a wheelchair". I'm teling you, it took that woman forever. Okay, so maybe it was only a minute or two, but it felt like forever. We got to my room, and they had me change  into the gown and try to go to the bathroom. Then they checked me. I was 6 cm with a bulgy bag. I got strapped on to the fetal and contraction monitors and E's heart rate decelerated pretty significantly, so on went the oxygen mask. Why does that thing smell so funny to me? I thought I was going to throw up. Then, stick out my arm for the IV so they can order my epidural (yes, PLEASE!!!) Hubs had to sign a paper or something with another nurse, but I was hurting and I told him "I need you!" But he still had to sign. So he didn't come right away. 

As the nurse was inserting my IV, my water broke. And E was coming out. I told her, "something is coming out of me!" she asked if it was water or baby. 

My response: "BOTH!!!"

The other (main) nurse, Marianne, checked me and told someone, "She's crowning! Call the Dr and tell him to DRIVE FAST!"

This is when I started freaking out.

Everything started going so fast. Marianne told someone, "get nursery up here quick--there's blood and lots of meconium."  Three more people promptly arrived to witness my breakdown. Then, sweet Marianne looked at me and calmly told me that I should push when I feel like it, if it would make it feel better. Feel better??? That is what the epidural is for. Our conversation then went like this:

Me: But I want an epidural! I can't do this!

Nurse: No, you can't have one.

Me: I can't have anything???? I can't do it this way!

Nurse: Yes, you can. You ARE doing this.

Me: (whimpering) but I don't want to!!!
Repeat.

I kept telling everyone in the room (in between pushes) that I couldn't do this. My husband was so sweet. He kept telling me that I COULD do this and brushing my bangs out of my eyes. I told him I was scared, he replied, "I know" and squeezed my hand.

The anestisiologist came in and asked if there was time to do a half something or other. I said YES. Marianne said NO. I whimpered some more.

Then everything got weird. The two nurses looked scared and started wispering to eachother, the Dr from the nursery came quickly over to the bedside and Hubby's eyes got HUGE. I was too busy freaking out to notice much else, but Marianne looked at me and said, "PUSH. NOW."

My response: I can't . I don't feel like it. I need to breathe. (I had just finished pushing)

Marianne then grabbed my legs, pushed them up and looked and me and said, " You take a deep breath and you push that baby out NOW!!!"

So, I did. And it hurt. Like nothing else. Ever. I don't think I have ever prayed so hard in my life.

When E's head came out, he was this tiny ball of blue that wasn't breathing. Marianne couldn't find the cord, the other nurse couldn't either, so nursery doc (who was already sucking out meconium from E's mouth and nose) helped out.  Okay, people. Let me tell you that having three people's hands in you after pushing out a baby head when you can feel EVERY single thing is no treat. Worse is seeing blue baby head that is not moving or breathing. The cord was found, then out came the rest of E. They took him away immediately. Hubby didn't get to cut the cord, I didn't get to touch him or anything. And they turned their equipment away from us so we couldn't see.  But he was here. And I did it. I could not believe it. He was born at 2:06 am. 6 lbs 15 oz. 6 days late.

And then the Dr came flying in. On crutches.

I started laughing. Seriously? Crutches? Too funny.

He looked around the room. Me laying there, not laboring anymore, frantic hospital staff working in the corner, no baby crying. All the color drained from his face. All I could say was, "HI doc. I did it. I can't believe I did it." over and over.  Marianne asked for E's first Apgar score, and the nurse replied curtly, "I'll give it to you in a minute!" 

Then the shaking started. It was more like seizing. Uncontrolable. 

While the Dr worked on delivering the placenta (Ouch!!!) E finally cried. A little squeaky one. It was such a relief to hear.  They told us he had to go to the nursery pretty quick and my cute hubby  stood halfway between my bed and E's, looking back and forth between us, not knowing which one to stay with. Not until I told him to go with the baby did he move :)

After a while and all the necessary repair (with plenty of breaks because I was shaking too much for the Dr to do the stitches on my deep 2nd degree tear), they finally brought me a warm blanket. The shaking stopped almost immediately. Marianne then went to the computer and asked, "okay, how tall are you?" I just started laughing. We still had to finish the check in paperwork that there was no time to do before. It seemed so funny to me. Then, I had a few minutes to myself. I was still in disbelief. I called my mom (who was still awake) and told her what had happened.

Marianne came in and gave me an update. She said E was doing great, and he'd be back soon...and that we were very lucky he didn't have to go to the NICU. Okay, good. Thanks. HUH??? I had to wait until Hubby came back to ask him what the nurse was talking about. He looked at me and said, "You didn't hear it? E's heart beat stopped. We could hear yours, but not E's on the monitor."  I guess I was too busy freaking out to pay attention to anything else but me and my pain. I am thankful I didn't know what was going on. It would have been a million times scarier than it was.  Finally they brought E to me. I got to hold my perfect little guy. He was beautiful. A full head of long hair, a deep crease across the bridge of his nose and a wrinkly forehead. His bed had a nametag that said Gumby--The nurses in the nursery gave him that nicname because he was so green from all the meconium. Looking at his stat sheet, his first apgar was only 4. The  nurse didn't want to tell us that when I was already freaking out so much. His 5 min score was 8, so all was well. My Husband was the best. I could not have done it without him. He was so calm and supportive. I am so thankful for Marianne and the nursery staff at the hospital that took such good care of me and especially of E. He is beautiful and I love my new little man. I am so glad he is here, no matter how dramatic it was getting him here.

{Did that last bit sound like an Oscar acceptance speech? Sorry.}

*Embarassing moment: When they wheeled me out to take me to a different room, all the nurses at the nurses station (which was right outside my door) said, "Wow! That was exciting!". Turns out the door to my room was left wide open so the doc could get in there fast..he was on crutches... and everyone heard, well, everything. I guess I was much louder in reality than I was in my head.

 

E didn't like his time on the monitor.