October 28, 2009

Owen Thomas

Saturday morning, October 17th, I woke up at 6 a.m., took a shower and got dressed, and then had a piece of toast and glass of water, all the while wondering if that was the day my baby would be born.

Doug was a little more anxious than usual and he was quiet as he drove me to the hospital for Round Two of Induction.  I tried to make small talk, because he wasn’t the only one who was nervous.  I was the one having the baby and my nerves were shot.  He dropped me off by the Emergency Room doors so that I could be admitted while he parked the car.

I got the same room as the day before, and it felt like “home” in a strange way.  My nurse, Lori, was absolutely wonderful.  She told me to undress, gown up and that the on call OB/GYN, Dr. P, would be in to see me shortly.  He was reviewing my chart, and since I had seen him twice for prenatal care, he was familiar with my chronic hypertension, PCOS, and history for pre-eclampsia.

I sat down in the bed after changing.  It was 7:15 a.m.  Just before 8 o’clock, Dr. P came to my room to check my cervix.  It was determined that I was still only 2-3 centimeters dilated, but my cervix was now very soft and could probably handle induction by pitocin fairly well.  I was skeptical, because it didn’t work with Dawson, but I was willing to try again.  I was ready to have this baby.

Dr. P guessed that my baby would be born some time around midnight, weighing 3700 grams (he made this guess by external palpation).  When I asked what that was in pounds, he joked, “I’m not sure, my hands aren’t equipped to convert metric.”

My contractions began about an hour later, mild at first, just a stronger version of menstrual cramps. Every 30 minutes Lori came into check on me, as well as up the pitocin.  My labor was progressing gradually, but not as fast as expected.  In fact, when I got up to use the bathroom, the contractions stopped altogether.

At around noon, Dr. P came in and broke my water.  That’s when the fun began.  My contractions were stronger, closer together and I managed to breathe through most of them for about two hours.  Somewhere between five and six centimeters I couldn’t take it anymore.  Every time I took a breath, I felt such horrible pain.  Lori assured me that the pitocin contractions are like a mack truck slamming into my uterine wall, and that it was okay if I wanted the epidural.

“Last time I checked,” she said, “they don’t give medals for natural childbirth.”

I decided the epidural was the best choice because subconsciously the pain was making it hard for me to relax and therefore my cervix wasn’t dilating past six.  After the anesthesiologist came in to administer the epidural, I felt relieved.  But then it took him three tries to get the catheter into my back, and when he finally “got it” I was ready for a nap.

At first the epidural was great.  I didn’t feel the horrible contractions any longer, but I saw them on the monitor and wondered if I would have been able to handle such forceful waves of pain.  A few hours later, I noticed only my right side was numb, the left side of my body was only partly numb and mostly tingly.  I pressed a button for a bolster of medicine and still I could feel the left side of my body.  It made me nervous.

Sometime around 5:30, Dr. P came to check my cervix and I was happy to discover I was at nine centimeters and the doctor said it would probably be 3 to 4 hours before the baby was born.

No sooner than he said those words, the baby’s heart rate dropped significantly and the sound was like a drum in my ears.  Before I could make sense of what the doctor and nurses were saying, Lori put an oxygen mask over my face and told me to inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth.    I was trying not to panic, but the heart rate wasn’t going up.  The other nurse helped to roll me over to my left side, then to my right side.  The heart rate went up a bit, and Dr. P ordered an electronic fetal monitoring device to be attached to the baby’s scalp.

Once that was complete, the heart rate was better, but later took another dip.  With the oxygen mask still on my face, Dr. P checked my cervix.  I was at ten centimeters and the nurses and Dr. P ordered me to push.

I heard my doctor say, “I’m going to need to use the vacuum, baby needs to come out.  He’s had enough of this birth canal, we need to get him out to get his heart rate back up.”  Surprisingly, the doctor was so calm through it all.  He never got excited or worried.  He was so in control and I think that helped me to deliver my baby.

Through all the chaos and panic, somehow, I managed to push five (maybe six?) times and Owen Thomas Tuszke was born at 5:57 p.m.  The umbilical cord was around his neck, it happened sometime during his travels down the birth canal, which is probably what made his heart rate drop.  Once he was out, the nurse whisked him to the isolette and suctioned him.  After what felt like forever, I heard him cry.  He was not happy.

So much for 3 to 4 hours, I told Dr. P.  He laughed as he stitched my tear.  I remember my legs, my whole body, really, shaking uncontrollably.  I kept looking over to the isolette to see the nurses cleaning Owen and weighing and measuring him.

“He’s perfect,” Lori said. “And his color is good.  He’s got lungs!”

Owen cried for a few minutes and once he was wrapped in blankets, he was making the most adorable whimpering sounds.  It was almost like he was telling us all about his journey into this world.  I cried tears of joy and when the nurse put him in my arms, I was absolutely in love.

And he really is perfect.

October 16, 2009

Still No Baby

I didn’t get much sleep last night.  The anticipation of labor induction kept me tossing and turning and thinking about the unexpected.  I finally fell asleep sometime before 2 a.m., and awoke at 6 a.m. to shower before leaving for the hospital.

We got to the check-in desk of the ER just after 7 a.m. and I had to wait for the walk-in patient in front of me to be admitted.  He was an elderly gentleman with a bloody nose.  I noticed his handkerchief was stained red and most of his shirt and hands were covered. I felt sad that he had to endure such a trauma.

I was also nervous about the people in the waiting room wearing doctor’s masks.  Visions of swine flu danced in my head, and I took a few steps back to avoid contracting a contagious disease.

I was admitted to my room shortly thereafter.  After the nurse checked me in I completed the paperwork and answered the million admittance questions.  Then I waited two hours to see my doctor who was in the OR for a cesarean section.

Dr. Boehm started the induction with a prostaglandin pill called misoprostal and after two hours I was sent home to “progess” in a more relaxing setting until tomorrow morning when I go back at 7 a.m.

Once I got home I took a two hour nap, checked e-mails, napped again and then woke up starving and feeling crampy.  So maybe the prostaglandin is working, maybe it’s effacing the cervix or dilating it more.  I don’t feel contractions yet, but I do feel mild menstrual cramps and lower back pain.

I’m going to use my massage chair, take a shower and then settle in with back issues of Real Simple magazine until I fall asleep.

I promise to post again as soon as I can, and I’ll be updating Facebook and Twitter via BlackBerry if possible tomorrow.

October 14, 2009

On Labor Induction and the Greatest Doctor Ever

Today’s ultrasound revealed that Monster Baby is just under 9 pounds.

“Give or take 15 ounces either way,” says the technician, and I swear my vagina let out a scream of terror.

I left the exam room and called Doug to let him know the results.  He laughed.  I’m certain he gets a big kick out of the thought of me being in immense pain.  I’m thinking of ways to get revenge.  Send your suggestions, will ya?

I had time between the ultrasound and my scheduled 39 week appointment, so I drove down to Taco Bell and enjoyed a ranchero chicken soft taco and fiesta potatoes.  I had been craving the stuff for a week or more, and i figured I better indulge now, before many sleepless nights and foggy days commence.  It was worth it.  Of course, I needed a Tums post lunch, but I survived.

When I got back to the OB/GYN department for my appointment, I ran into a girl I went to high school with.  She was a year or two behind me in school and I remember her as being very annoying back then.  She never stopped talking, always asked a boat load of questions and I never enjoyed talking to her.  I remember smiling and nodding a lot, and never finding a way to escape her chattering.

Turns out, some people never change.  She wanted to know how far along I was, what I was having (“a baby, duh”) and what names I had chosen.  Where was my husband, she asked, and why doesn’t he come to the appointment with you?  When she asked if this was my first baby, I shook my head and reached into my purse for my BlackBerry.  I proceeded to pretend I was very busy checking work e-mails.  I was really Twittering.  I think I posted an update that said, “Why do I always run into annoying people at the doc’s office?”

Finally the nurse called me back and I waited patiently for Dr. Fatchikov to examine me.  He knocked on the door shortly thereafter.  I was yawning and he said, “Oh, that is the face of an exhausted and desperate woman.”

“Yes,” I said. “I am ready to have this baby.  The longer I am pregnant, the more tired I get.  Sadly that won’t change post baby!”

When he checked my cervix, Dr. F discovered I was still stuck between 2 and 3 centimeters dilated.  He measured my fundal height and then looked at the ultrasound results.

“Okay, baby is big.  Let’s see what we can do.” he told me.

He called the maternity floor and asked what his schedule was like for tomorrow, as he is on call, but he already had a scheduled cesarean and a scheduled induction.  Dr. F said it would not be fair to bring me in if he couldn’t promise his undivided attention.

“I really want to be the one to deliver your baby, but I am not comfortable with leaving you several times to attend to other patients.  That is not my style of practice.” he said.

This is what I love about my doctor.  He is honest.  He is kind.  No fluff.  No sugar coating.  And he listens.  He truly cares about his patients, and if I could pronounce his first name (which is Tzvetan) I would totally name my son after him.

My other doctor (I have two because of my high risk history) happens to be on call on Friday, and Dr. F scheduled my induction for Friday morning at 7 a.m.

“Now, if my two deliveries go down without a hitch tomorrow, I will call you and you come in to be induced.  I can’t promise, but I will try.  Otherwise, you will be in on Friday.  I will check up on you Saturday afternoon.” Dr. F explained.

He paged the nurse to complete the paper work and gave me a hug.  I didn’t want to let go of the man.  Which sounds a little nuts, I know, but this doctor has been so good to me over the last year and half.  I can’t even describe the level of professionalism and kindness he has shown me.  He is, and has been, the most amazing doctor a woman could ever ask for.  I thanked him, with tears in my eyes, for all that he has done for me.

“Oh,” he said. “Be careful.  You don’t want to see your doctor cry.  Good luck, and I see you very soon.”

After he left the room, I got dressed and waited for the nurse to bring in the paperwork.  I thought about the my first appointment with Dr. F and how depressed I was with my PCOS and my failure to conceive and how I was starting to think I was crazy, because other doctors told me I was fine and that weight loss would solve all my problems.

“You are not crazy,” Dr. F had told me.  “This is a real disease and weight loss alone is not enough.”

He listened to me.  He encouraged me.  He cheered me on in my efforts to lose weight.  With every pound lost, he gave me a high five, and sometimes a friendly hug.

He prescribed the right medicines to help my body overcome the obstacles that PCOS had thrown at me.  And eight months after my first appointment, I was pregnant. Without Dr. Fatchikov, I don’t think it would have happened.  He gave me hope.

Maybe it’s hormones that are making me so emotional, but I feel very lucky to have such a wonderful doctor.  Thank you, Dr. F.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

So.  Friday is the big day.  I’m anxious.  Nervous.  Excited.  And ready.  So very ready.

October 11, 2009

Filling the Void

While I wait patiently (or not) for Little Monster Baby (how’s that for an oxymoron) to arrive, I thought I’d kill some blog time with photos.  It’s hard to write a real blog post because I’m starting to sound redundant.  I write about the same things, because I’ve been doing the same things for days.

Okay, and I’m tired. I spent today cleaning (more cleaning, you ask? yes, because I’ve gone completely anal about organization in this house. that and I have nothing else to do while I wait for the baby to make his way into the world) my dining room, my craft area, and other things. Then Doug and I went to lunch at Tempura House.  They have the best buffet.  I love the sweet & sour chicken, General Tso’s chicken, and of course crab rangoon. Yum.

Dawson spent the night at my parents’ house so we could go to that wedding last night, and Doug and I really enjoyed our day together, even if we were just getting all those last minute things completed.  I vacuumed all the carpets.  Doug blew out the sprinklers for the winter.  I folded laundry. He blanched and froze more vegetables from our garden.

The only thing we didn’t finish was weather-proofing our windows with that shrink wrap, plastic stuff.  But there’s always tomorrow.  As long as a certain baby stays in my uterus.  Which is probably going to happen.  He’s showing no interest in being born just yet.  I’m still in physical pain, but cleaning distracts me.

Okay, enough of the random babbling.  I give you my favorite photos of the last few weeks (months?):

My neighbor’s daughter, Katie, with her brothers at her wedding reception last night.  These kids (who aren’t really kids anymore) are triplets.  I’ve known their family since I was a kid.  I can’t believe how grown up they are now.

The beautiful bride and handsome groom pose for a photo.  They are just adorable, aren’t they?

Last Monday, Dawson and I went on a Mom & Son date.  We had dinner at Rocky Roccoco’s and then went to see the Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen movie that was re-playing at our local theater.  We had a fantastic time.

We had some funky things happen to a few of the tomatoes we grew this year.  This one seems to have grown a nose.  Or… Nevermind. I’m not even going to say it.  Still the funniest produce ever.

I tried to get a picture of all the kids at Dawson’s birthday party two weeks ago, and this one is almost perfect.  Only one child is looking away, and one is missing from the photo because he was having a meltdown.  Still a fantastic party.  Everyone had a fantastic time.

Dawson had such fun bowling.  Here he is, just after granny-bowling the ball down the lane.

Now that I’ve uploaded all the photos (from both cameras) from the last few weeks, I’ve charged all the batteries and put everything into my hospital bag.  I’m ready for Baby O to arrive.  Counting down days!