Hello, Mommy!

OK, so it has been a while....

I have missed you all, my lovelies, but motherhood took some getting used to. So much has happened I hardly know where to begin!

Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

Shortly after my 34 week appointment, things became a bit complicated with the pregnancy. My blood pressure started climbing as did my protein levels. This raised a bit of concern with the good doctor and I was put on a constant watch for Preeclampsia. My activity level had to be reduced and my fluid intake increased, plus a Non-Stress Test for Little Alex. I was growing bigger by the day and becoming very uncomfortable but the wee bairn was not looking like he would be ready to arrive any time soon.

The weeks ticked down but my blood pressure kept creeping higher and higher. The final week before my due date, the good doctor was growing quite concerned and my body was not near enough to a deliverable state; there was talk of induction. Little Alex seemed to take the hint because a few days later, I started having some serious contractions. Two days after that (and two days before my Due Date) I was admitted to the hospital for delivery.

Many expectant mothers worry if they might mistake false labor for true labor and vicea-versa. Believe me, there is no questioning which is which. You will know. Not only is the pain very different, but your instincts will kick in. It was certainly clear to me. The only tricky part of knowing when to go to the hospital for me was the fact that my contractions never got into a predictable rhythm on their own.

The contractions started around 3 am on the Wednesday before my Due Date. I started timing them, as you are supposed to, and they showed to be roughly 60- 90 minutes long each time but they bounced around from being two minutes apart to six minutes apart and then 15 minutes apart. I found this odd, but they were significantly stronger than anything I had ever experienced. So, Himself and I packed the car with our bags, called up the good doctor, explained what I was feeling and was advised to keep timing them. Unless they got stronger, longer, and closer together before 8 she would see me at my regularly scheduled appointment that morning. Of course, they did not change their intensity, frequency or duration and at the appointment I was examined and the good doctor said that Little Alex wasn't coming quite yet but I was certainly in the early stage of labor and that sometime between thirty minutes to three days from that time, we were sure to meet our son. (Three days being the scheduled induction.) I went home, in no less pain, but no closer to "go time". Himself went to work and I spent the rest of the day with my eyes and fingers glued to the stopwatch. Alack, no change.

3 am Thursday rolls around and I cannot stand it anymore. I call the good doctor again and explain what I am feeling and took a guess that the contractions were stronger. They most likely were but the increase was so gradual, I was not completely sure. I simply knew I needed to go to the hospital.

So, with the car already loaded with our birthing gear, away we went in the dark of night, both Himself and I trembling with excitement and fear. (Let's face it, having a baby is a scary thing. A breathtaking, amazing, beautiful, and completely wonderful thing, but a scary thing.) We arrived, found a parking space, decided to leave our bags in the trunk until we had a room, and made our way to the maternity ward. I was affixed to monitors, poked and prodded and set-up with an IV and we all waited to see if I would be admitted or not.

We waited....

. . . and waited . . .

and waited.

My dilation was not progressing, nor were my contractions indicating that labor was progressing. However, my blood pressure was continuing to go up as were my protein levels so it was eventually decided that I would be admitted. We sent word to family and friends that we were officially in birthday countdown and made our way to the labor and delivery room.

Things went well for a while. The contractions were intense but manageable as long as I was able to stand and move my hips to ease the muscles and let my body do what it needed in preparation for delivery. For a time, anyway.

It seemed that I was not destined for a "natural" childbirth as I had worked out in my head. My blood pressure was soaring dangerously high as were my protein levels and I officially crossed over the threshold and into full-fledged preeclampsia. Little Alex was not taking the stress of the irregular contractions well and though not in immediate danger, his little heartbeat was dipping lower than the good doctor felt comfortable with. Things were not looking good and the potential for a truly dangerous situation was rising fast.

With my blood pressure at 177/101 (my normal being 110/70) I had to have Magnesium Sulfate given via IV to lower my BP and prevent seizures. A good thing to avoid. Unfortunately, Magnesium causes random loss of motor control and is a muscle relaxer. This meant I could no longer get out of bed and had to have Pitocin to keep labor progressing. So, my plan for no medication had flown right out the window. But, since preeclampsia has a high risk of seizures and death for both mother and child . . . small price to pay.

The Pitocin did regulate my contractions and once that happened, Little Alex faired much better giving the good doctor and me some much needed positive news. The Magnesium also lowered my blood pressure and protein levels which brought the potential for deadly risk way down. All very very good.

It also raised my pain levels and took away my way of coping with them.

Not so good.

So, with my birth plan already in shambles and my spirit breaking, I went ahead and asked for some pain medication. The nurse gave me a dose of Nubain and I was soon feeling much better about the whole ordeal.

Again, this was short lived.

Though the contractions were regulating and doing as they should in respect to intensity, duration and spacing . . . they were not doing as they were supposed to in terms of dilation. And at the rate I was going, the good doctor knew I would run out of stamina long before it came time to push. So, it became necessary to speed things along and that meant breaking my waters. This also meant the pain would increase dramatically.

Uh oh.

I had been determined not to get an Epidural since day one. Long before, actually. I had refused to even consider it as an option when Himself and I were still simply thinking about someday having children. And I was still wanting to avoid it at all costs. I was terrified of having a needle anywhere near my spine.

My nurse advised me otherwise. She knew what I was in for and strongly recommended I rethink my position on the subject. There was something about her frankness that caught my attention. She had been wonderful and completely open and honest so far. I trusted her advice, but I was still holding out hope that I wouldn't have to give up everything I had planned for my birth experience. So, we all agreed to proceed with the Nubain with orders drawn up and ready to go for the Epidural, if I changed my mind.

So the good doctor gave me my second dose of Nubain, sped up the delivery process and left me in the care of my nurse until the next round of progress checks. I braced myself for my next contraction, determined to bear it through without further pain management interventions.

My darlings, let me enlighten you of something. Do not judge someone's decisions until you make it though their situations. I thought I knew what I was in for. I thought I knew pain. After all, I had broken bones and not realized it. I had suffered a major internal injury that cost me quite a lot of blood and very nearly my life and only an odd discomfort to alert me something was amiss. I had handled things thus far, surely I could handle the pain as is.

Nope. Not even close.

That first contraction after my water broke, I looked the nurse dead in the eye and told her to get the anesthesiologist and get me that epidural. Nothing could have prepared me for the blinding pain that had gripped me. All of my worst fears were nothing compared to it. The thought of having to face hours of such torture was unfathomable. There was no question, no thought. I was not going to be able to do this without an epidural. And for all my worry, it wasn't bad. I felt nothing of the needle or catheter being placed. I couldn't move my legs, but I had difficulty moving them from the Magnesium anyway. I still felt the contractions but there was no real pain with them. I suddenly felt like I was once again capable of surviving the birthing process.

Finally it came time to push, all went smoothly (for the first time in the whole pregnancy) and Little Alexander finally greeted the world at 12:52 AM on May 31st weighing in at 7 pounds and 6 ounces and measuring 21 inches long. Far lighter than we all thought but a decent amount longer.

I shall pause here for now, my dears, and continue filling you in on the events of the last three months very soon.

Until next time!