So obviously I haven't been on for a while.
It all started with the decision to go to my ob appointment on Monday the 29th...
I had tried to find someone to go with me, because I really didn't want to face the doctors alone, but in the end, I just went in. Who the appointment was actually supposed to be with, I don't know. When I got there, they had lost my original appointment, but were able to squeeze me in with Dr. S, who, coincidentally, was one of the few vbac supportive doctors I had there, and one of my favorites. I figured I would get the usual and be home, but rather, found my blood pressure dangerously high and not coming down after lying on my side for awhile. There was also protein in my urine. Not trace, a lot. So, it was decided I was headed to the hospital. It was by God's grace that it was Dr. S giving me this news, as from any other doc, I would have been skeptical. I headed over to the hospital adjoining the office after being reassured that, if my blood work was not too off, they would first break my water to see if it would stimulate labor and possibly avoid a repeat c-section. Either way, I needed to be delivered that day. I called my husband, who promptly left work, my mom to be there for Pony Gal, and my doula. Pony Gal and I then mosied (yes, I took my time) over to the gift shop for the treat I promised her, then walked over to maternity. Luckily I had been carrying around my hospital gear in the van since bedrest started 4 weeks before. I was admitted to the very spacious vaginal birth side, and got all set up for a halfway normal delivery. They drew my blood, and the waiting game began, as the whole day rested on what it showed my liver and platelets to be doing. In the meantime, my support squad showed up and I got to watch everyone eat lunch as I got the IV and sprite. I eventually talked my mom into sneaking me tator tots while Dad stood look out, as, I knew I wasn't getting knocked out for any reason, anytime soon.
So, finally the blood work arrives, along with my office's on-call, Dr. K. He was accompanied by a rather green med student, as well. The news was not great. My platelets were very low, a sign things needed to happen as soon as possible. We discussed the possibility of water rupture to induce, but the chances of it working were slim, especially since my cervix had not changed in a couple weeks. It turned out that I would have been headed for the operating room if they tried this anyhow, as there was meconium in the amniotic fluid. Dad and I looked at each other, and decided that a repeat c was the best route for my safety, as if I had to go through one again, for my mental/emotional health, it needed to be me making the decision for the right reasons, not in the midst of chaos. I managed to talk Dr. K out of the use of a magnesium drip, as my pressures were not so high I felt I was at risk for seizure, and I knew I wanted to be as coherent as possible this time around. I even managed to joke about its great potential as a form of torture at Gitmo. I was nervous, but thankfully everything moved quickly so I didn't have to dwell on anything. I was informed that we would start once anesthesia was ready, which was right then. They prepped my scar and off I rolled. It is quite a different experience going into surgery in such a calm manner as opposed to the fury Pony Gal was born in. I AM NOT a backer of most c-sections, and believe the vast majority of those who get one should be offered, and could very easily successfully deliver vaginally the second time around. In most cases it is the safest route. I managed to hold off a surgery until my due date, but in the end, I believe that both my surgeries were warranted. Not many people can say that, but it was only after all other routes were exhausted that I ended up on that very narrow operating room table.
It is such a different experience going into that procedure awake, to hear the nurses and doctors chatting, setting up instruments and bustling around. Rather creepy, really. Hospital gowns do nothing against the frigid cold of that room and the stark feeling with the white walls and bright lights. My anesthesiologist tried to be comforting but was just kind of fruity. I hated that Dad was not able to be with me until they were prepped-I needed him for the whole thing for sure. I was shaking as they rolled me into the room, very nervous. It got worse as I sat there with my back exposed for the anesthesia. It was difficult trying to hold still while trembling and enduring the stabbing pains in my back. Finally I could lay down, and got to wait there for them to be ready. I just kept closing my eyes, fighting back tears. I was so relieved for Dad to show up. As they started, he held my hand and kept asking if I was okay. Mind you, this was not how I wanted things to go, but it was 100% better than Pony Gal's birth. As I listened to the doctor explaining to the med student what was happening, I heard the words "meconium" uttered, and was warned that they were going to be pushing on my upper abdomen, as the baby didn't want to come out. He kept wriggling back up, and it ended up taking three people to get him out. They suctioned him as he and I both started to cry. The presence of that meconium meant my health was probably starting to take a toll on him. He had the cord wrapped around his neck as well. Despite all this, his apgars were 8 and 9, and he looked wonderful. He was nice and vocal until he got to Dad. I just sat there and stared at him as they went about closing everything up.The fruity anesthesiologist thought it was appropriate to show a pictures of his girls on his phone. That was weird. But to be there and have Dad holding our baby instead of seeing him in an incubator hours later, was a far better experience. It was rather surreal. I am so glad I was able to be awake and coherent for his birth. I would have felt cheated if I had missed the birth of both my children.
Thus, at 1:38 p.m., Monday, October 29th, Superboy was born, all 8 pounds, 4.6 ounces, and 19.5 inches of him.
Dr. K did a wonderful job, and I have already decided if we try for another baby by csec, I will use his services. My incision hasn't bugged me too much, now that the staples are gone. My recovery this time has been faster-but not because it is my second time around. My care has been far better, and treatment for the mild pre-e has been very different than the way my ob with Pony Gal handled it, prolonging my misery through several different things. We went home Thursday by 9:30 am, and things have gone so well. I stand by my position that the care at this hospital is heads and tails better than that of where I had Pony Gal. My only issue is one that both hospitals need to deal with-support person accommodations for c-section patients. With Superboy's birth we got moved to the c sec recovery rooms. We pay more for our stay, and have to stay longer, yet we get smaller rooms with chair beds. I wanted my daughter to be able to be with us as much as possible, but couldn't as there was nowhere for her to sleep. All maternity patients should be given similar consideration. Otherwise, we were very well treated, and happy with our stay and may use them again if we need to.
In the meantime, I have lost over 20 pounds since Monday, and Superboy has started gaining again. He took very quickly to breastfeeding. Our only hiccup has been the size of my breasts compared to his mouth-it has made for some soreness. I know it will go away with time, but there are times I want to cry as he latches on. The latch is good, I talked with lactation, it's just a waiting game. He is so laid back, unless its time to eat. Otherwise, he is very happy and other than crazy hormones, I feel fine.