The Snarky Momma occasionally (okay, sometimes) reviews products on her review blog related to parenting, domestic goddess-try, and personal care. Her opinions are honest, based on her own experiences, and will be published even if she does not find the product satisfactory. She will always disclose how she got a product and whether she was compensated to talk about it. If you want to send her a product, contact her via email at tiffany [at] snarkymomma [dot] com.
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
Oh, hai. (Long. Kinda explicit.)
Sorry for the blog neglect—I’ve had my arms full. This post is long as hell and may take you a week to read. That’s fine - I might not be able to post again until, oh, who knows.
Em came home last Thursday after two nights in the hospital. (The second night was only because mom wasn’t ready.)
Okay, here’s what happened.
Monday of last week I complained about “still” being pregnant. My due date wasn’t until the 2nd, but I was so, so tired and in the back of my mind I retained some trivia that with my second kid I’d probably go into labor earlier than the first.
I spent the day frustrated, actually, because I was having pretty much non-stop Braxton-Hicks. Those don’t really hurt, but when you’re that far along they’re really uncomfortable because they squeeze you in places that are too full to be squeezed. I started thinking about crazy things like Castor Oil, but decided not to put myself through that.
Scott was working later than usual and Rosco was in bed. I remember sitting on the sofa (something I rarely do on a Monday night because there’s nothing on television) thinking “This is some bullshit.” Around 9 o’clock or so I had the realization that at some point I’d transitioned from prodomal labor (the “fake” stuff) to actual early labor. I was able to tell because I started having radiating pain circling my back and upper abdomen which worked its way down to where it counts. (No, they didn’t feel like period cramps for me. Sorry.)
I started timing them and they were pretty consistent at around eight minutes apart. Scott came home and I told him that we should probably put out the alert that I *may* go soon and that someone needed to come put an eyeball on Rosco.
After much hemming and hawing (I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a false alarm), we asked Scott’s sister to come hang out. We figured better early than late, you know? She arrived at around 2 a.m., and I showered, brushed my teeth, and tried to rest for a while.
For a little bit the contractions started getting increasingly more painful and closer together, but I was able to get a cumulative couple of hours of sleep during the period between each one. In fact, I was in bed so long (with my clothes on) that Scott’s alarm clock went off as usual that morning since we were expecting the contractor and crew.
I sat up thinking “Huh?” Contractions had stopped. Fetus was still chilling, poking around as always. She didn’t really feel any lower, and I certainly didn’t feel like I had a new gaping hole where my cervix had been.
Anyway, Scott went to take a shower and I decided to lay down for just a few more minutes before making coffee.
Coffee never happened. (Avert your eyes if you’ve never given birth before. Don’t want to scare you.)
What did happen was stabby-stabby pains in the general vicinity of down-there. They just started LIKE THAT. That rest I got? It was the calm before the storm. It was the kind of pain that makes you freeze in place and toes curl into the hardwood floors—that kind. It kind of felt like someone was blowing up a balloon in my lower abdomen every three minutes or so just to the point of being almost overstretched, and then letting some of the air loose.
At that point I didn’t care how far apart they were. After two of those things I wanted to go to the flippin’ hospital. Scott still had to get Rosco dressed, the cats fed (they were in the garage), and the contractor briefed. It was probably half an hour, but it felt like for.ev.er. I feared I would lose control of my bodily functions at any moment.
UNC Women’s Hospital is about 15 minutes away from here assuming there’s no traffic, and since it’s summer and most of Chapel Hill’s transient population is out of town at the moment, there wasn’t a heap of traffic in that direction (thank goodness). It was still a miserable drive. Imagine - you’re strapped to a car seat and all you can do to comfort yourself is dig your nails into the car door.
We got there, tossed the car at the valets, and I somehow managed to get into a wheelchair. Even that was hard. I was contracting so frequently and they were lasting so long that it was hard to move. One of the curbside dudes (are they porters? security?) pushed me up to the L&D floor where they very s.l.o.w.l.y checked me in. I think I was ready to claw the reception lady’s eyes out when she asked “So, why are you here today?”
I got carted to triage where I promptly ran to the bathroom to pee. The nurse handed me a gown to put on, but I decided to go throw up instead. When she asked me how far apart my contractions were and when they started I couldn’t answer her because, well, I was having a contraction. A couple of minutes later I pulled myself together enough to get undressed, and then an O.B. came in to check me.
It turned out that I was already five to six centimeters dilated, which caused the doctor to tell me “Good job!”
Yay, me.
So, of course they admitted me. The nurse asked if I wanted to get some pain relief (epidural) and I responded “Absolutely.” I know I said I was going to try to go without it, but the contractions were so close together that it was like riding a non-stop wave of pain. No way was I going to sacrifice myself on the drug-free altar. It was traumatic enough as it was. (Again, if you’ve never given birth - stop reading here.)
From there I went to the birthing room and they got all the requisite pokes and sticks done. I got some I.V. fluids since I hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink since the night before and then they drew about a liter (exaggeration) of blood for various tests.
The anesthesiologist showed up and asked a bunch of questions before getting me my stuff (had to wait on lab results anyway), and I was really wishing I’d just pass out at that point. (I told you to stop reading.) I was dilating so fast that in addition to the pain, the pressure build-up was massive.
By the time they showed up with my drugs they had to administer it with me on my side because I couldn’t sit on my ass anymore [the usual posture is for you to sit up and arch forward so they can see the spaces in your spine]. I suspect that if they had been five minutes later I wouldn’t have been able to get it. I was nine centimeters by the time they got it in.
While that was kicking in (took a long-ass 15-20 minutes) my water broke. Spontaneously. Big ol’ gush. Scott could actually hear it (which many of you may know is a feat). Prior to it breaking I could feel the pressure building up and I honestly was afraid I was going to explode. But at the same time, I wanted it to break so that the pressure would go away. (Well, it went away for about two minutes and then pressure from baby head replaced it.)
The nurse checked me, determined I had a bit of cervical lip left on the right side, and helped me roll onto the side to put some pressure on it. That worked so well that my body started laboring down. Oh. My God. I felt out of control. Eventually I just went with it and pushed along when it happened, without the nurse’s input naturally (I don’t think they like you trying to deliver a kid without a doctor there to catch the head).
When it became obvious that Em’s head was down low the O.B. came in and from there it was all pretty fast. (Let’s fast-forward through the part where I lay on my back whimpering “It hurts! It’s tearing!” and refusing to push any more, shall we?) Basically, my body expelled her. Even after I stopped pushing, my uterus decided to pick up the slack and squeeze her out.
Em was born at 11:10 a.m., so just a little more than a couple of hours after we arrived at the hospital. Scott cut the cord and I laid back and thought “Oh man, we’re not having any more kids after this.” 8 pounds 4 ounces. 19 1/2 inches long. (So, she’s average-height at the moment…which still projects to be way taller than me.)
I got a few stitches for my first degree tear (which isn’t bad at all considering I felt like I was being turned inside out), and bequeathed the placenta and cord to the local public cord blood bank. When Em was sorta-kinda cleaned up the nurses brought her over and plopped her on my chest for some skin-to-skin contact. It’s so sweet to watch a baby that young try to snuggle up to you and root around for a first meal. It’s a fantastic bonding experience. If your hospital lets you do it before whisking your kid off to who-knows-where, do it.
UNC encourages breastfeeding and rooming in, so Em was with me the entire time we were there minus the hour they took her for a bath and her hearing test. Because of this, she didn’t get any formula or sugar water in the nursery like Rosco did (he was a squawker), and she was at breast a lot since she was right there.
We could have gone home on Wednesday but I could barely walk and my abs were a mess. I knew I’d have issues getting up and down so I stayed the extra day as allowed by my insurance. I regretted that we rushed home so quickly when Rosco was born. In hindsight, I needed that extra day then, too.
[Rosco is coping by acting out in various ways, but I won’t get into that right here. I’ll just say that he’s not acting out directly towards Em, but instead towards Scott and I.]
Em is one week old today. If I had to speculate, I think she’s a different kind of personality from her brother. Rosco was intense from birth. If you looked him in the eyes you felt like he was trying to hypnotize you. Em has a presence that’s a lot more relaxed, so I think she might be a smiley baby. She definitely has a calming effect on me, whereas being around Rosco is like being too close to electricity. (Maybe that means he’s destined to be a celebrity?) Em’s pretty easy to figure out and her needs are simple: eat, diaper, sleep.
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 07/07 at 02:14 AM
***
Congrats Tiffany! She’s beautiful! Thanks for updating us - now go get some rest!
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 07/07 at 10:01 AM
***
She’s gorgeous!!! Congratulations (on the baby and getting the epidural =) ) It’s so cute to see you talk about her (all sweet and mushy). Here’s to hoping she stays sweet and Rosco figures out he’s still loved and special.
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 07/07 at 04:01 PM
***
She’s beautiful! Great job. I’ll be interested to hear more about Rosco. We’re talking about Baby #2, and I am nervous about how that will go.
I made a new post about Rosco. Please don’t let it scare you regarding 2nd kids! Rosco has a strong personality usually seen only in stubborn pre-teens.
I’m not sure why I decided to read the whole post after you gave numerous warnings, but, too late in many different ways. I had to comment on the Rosco being a celebrity statement…that’s why I asked last time I was visiting if anyone could foresee him being a politician. I was reading on November birthdays (since that is when I am due) and their personalities (if you believe in that stuff) tend to be the kind you describe when you are speaking of Rosco at this time! Good luck and tell Scott to cut the Nice Act. I don’t know where he’s getting that from…
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 07/14 at 09:29 PM
***
What a fantastic birth story! My first visit to your blog and I laughed and smiled and cringed right along with you. I am newly pregnant with my second. Gonna be a wild ride!
Congrats, Tiffany (and Scott - and Rosco whether he likes it or not). Like I said on your FB, you make such pretty babies! Just think what you’ll be able to do with her hair!
Melissa
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 07/16 at 07:36 PM
***
:D
Oh, I’ve already started perusing headbands and bows. It could quickly become a new obsession!
Oh, hai. (Long. Kinda explicit.)
Em came home last Thursday after two nights in the hospital. (The second night was only because mom wasn’t ready.)
Okay, here’s what happened.
Monday of last week I complained about “still” being pregnant. My due date wasn’t until the 2nd, but I was so, so tired and in the back of my mind I retained some trivia that with my second kid I’d probably go into labor earlier than the first.
I spent the day frustrated, actually, because I was having pretty much non-stop Braxton-Hicks. Those don’t really hurt, but when you’re that far along they’re really uncomfortable because they squeeze you in places that are too full to be squeezed. I started thinking about crazy things like Castor Oil, but decided not to put myself through that.
Scott was working later than usual and Rosco was in bed. I remember sitting on the sofa (something I rarely do on a Monday night because there’s nothing on television) thinking “This is some bullshit.” Around 9 o’clock or so I had the realization that at some point I’d transitioned from prodomal labor (the “fake” stuff) to actual early labor. I was able to tell because I started having radiating pain circling my back and upper abdomen which worked its way down to where it counts. (No, they didn’t feel like period cramps for me. Sorry.)
I started timing them and they were pretty consistent at around eight minutes apart. Scott came home and I told him that we should probably put out the alert that I *may* go soon and that someone needed to come put an eyeball on Rosco.
After much hemming and hawing (I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a false alarm), we asked Scott’s sister to come hang out. We figured better early than late, you know? She arrived at around 2 a.m., and I showered, brushed my teeth, and tried to rest for a while.
For a little bit the contractions started getting increasingly more painful and closer together, but I was able to get a cumulative couple of hours of sleep during the period between each one. In fact, I was in bed so long (with my clothes on) that Scott’s alarm clock went off as usual that morning since we were expecting the contractor and crew.
I sat up thinking “Huh?” Contractions had stopped. Fetus was still chilling, poking around as always. She didn’t really feel any lower, and I certainly didn’t feel like I had a new gaping hole where my cervix had been.
Anyway, Scott went to take a shower and I decided to lay down for just a few more minutes before making coffee.
Coffee never happened. (Avert your eyes if you’ve never given birth before. Don’t want to scare you.)
What did happen was stabby-stabby pains in the general vicinity of down-there. They just started LIKE THAT. That rest I got? It was the calm before the storm. It was the kind of pain that makes you freeze in place and toes curl into the hardwood floors—that kind. It kind of felt like someone was blowing up a balloon in my lower abdomen every three minutes or so just to the point of being almost overstretched, and then letting some of the air loose.
At that point I didn’t care how far apart they were. After two of those things I wanted to go to the flippin’ hospital. Scott still had to get Rosco dressed, the cats fed (they were in the garage), and the contractor briefed. It was probably half an hour, but it felt like for.ev.er. I feared I would lose control of my bodily functions at any moment.
UNC Women’s Hospital is about 15 minutes away from here assuming there’s no traffic, and since it’s summer and most of Chapel Hill’s transient population is out of town at the moment, there wasn’t a heap of traffic in that direction (thank goodness). It was still a miserable drive. Imagine - you’re strapped to a car seat and all you can do to comfort yourself is dig your nails into the car door.
We got there, tossed the car at the valets, and I somehow managed to get into a wheelchair. Even that was hard. I was contracting so frequently and they were lasting so long that it was hard to move. One of the curbside dudes (are they porters? security?) pushed me up to the L&D floor where they very s.l.o.w.l.y checked me in. I think I was ready to claw the reception lady’s eyes out when she asked “So, why are you here today?”
I got carted to triage where I promptly ran to the bathroom to pee. The nurse handed me a gown to put on, but I decided to go throw up instead. When she asked me how far apart my contractions were and when they started I couldn’t answer her because, well, I was having a contraction. A couple of minutes later I pulled myself together enough to get undressed, and then an O.B. came in to check me.
It turned out that I was already five to six centimeters dilated, which caused the doctor to tell me “Good job!”
Yay, me.
So, of course they admitted me. The nurse asked if I wanted to get some pain relief (epidural) and I responded “Absolutely.” I know I said I was going to try to go without it, but the contractions were so close together that it was like riding a non-stop wave of pain. No way was I going to sacrifice myself on the drug-free altar. It was traumatic enough as it was. (Again, if you’ve never given birth - stop reading here.)
From there I went to the birthing room and they got all the requisite pokes and sticks done. I got some I.V. fluids since I hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink since the night before and then they drew about a liter (exaggeration) of blood for various tests.
The anesthesiologist showed up and asked a bunch of questions before getting me my stuff (had to wait on lab results anyway), and I was really wishing I’d just pass out at that point. (I told you to stop reading.) I was dilating so fast that in addition to the pain, the pressure build-up was massive.
By the time they showed up with my drugs they had to administer it with me on my side because I couldn’t sit on my ass anymore [the usual posture is for you to sit up and arch forward so they can see the spaces in your spine]. I suspect that if they had been five minutes later I wouldn’t have been able to get it. I was nine centimeters by the time they got it in.
While that was kicking in (took a long-ass 15-20 minutes) my water broke. Spontaneously. Big ol’ gush. Scott could actually hear it (which many of you may know is a feat). Prior to it breaking I could feel the pressure building up and I honestly was afraid I was going to explode. But at the same time, I wanted it to break so that the pressure would go away. (Well, it went away for about two minutes and then pressure from baby head replaced it.)
The nurse checked me, determined I had a bit of cervical lip left on the right side, and helped me roll onto the side to put some pressure on it. That worked so well that my body started laboring down. Oh. My God. I felt out of control. Eventually I just went with it and pushed along when it happened, without the nurse’s input naturally (I don’t think they like you trying to deliver a kid without a doctor there to catch the head).
When it became obvious that Em’s head was down low the O.B. came in and from there it was all pretty fast. (Let’s fast-forward through the part where I lay on my back whimpering “It hurts! It’s tearing!” and refusing to push any more, shall we?) Basically, my body expelled her. Even after I stopped pushing, my uterus decided to pick up the slack and squeeze her out.
Em was born at 11:10 a.m., so just a little more than a couple of hours after we arrived at the hospital. Scott cut the cord and I laid back and thought “Oh man, we’re not having any more kids after this.” 8 pounds 4 ounces. 19 1/2 inches long. (So, she’s average-height at the moment…which still projects to be way taller than me.)
I got a few stitches for my first degree tear (which isn’t bad at all considering I felt like I was being turned inside out), and bequeathed the placenta and cord to the local public cord blood bank. When Em was sorta-kinda cleaned up the nurses brought her over and plopped her on my chest for some skin-to-skin contact. It’s so sweet to watch a baby that young try to snuggle up to you and root around for a first meal. It’s a fantastic bonding experience. If your hospital lets you do it before whisking your kid off to who-knows-where, do it.
UNC encourages breastfeeding and rooming in, so Em was with me the entire time we were there minus the hour they took her for a bath and her hearing test. Because of this, she didn’t get any formula or sugar water in the nursery like Rosco did (he was a squawker), and she was at breast a lot since she was right there.
We could have gone home on Wednesday but I could barely walk and my abs were a mess. I knew I’d have issues getting up and down so I stayed the extra day as allowed by my insurance. I regretted that we rushed home so quickly when Rosco was born. In hindsight, I needed that extra day then, too.
[Rosco is coping by acting out in various ways, but I won’t get into that right here. I’ll just say that he’s not acting out directly towards Em, but instead towards Scott and I.]
Em is one week old today. If I had to speculate, I think she’s a different kind of personality from her brother. Rosco was intense from birth. If you looked him in the eyes you felt like he was trying to hypnotize you. Em has a presence that’s a lot more relaxed, so I think she might be a smiley baby. She definitely has a calming effect on me, whereas being around Rosco is like being too close to electricity. (Maybe that means he’s destined to be a celebrity?) Em’s pretty easy to figure out and her needs are simple: eat, diaper, sleep.
She’s such a sweetie.
Posted by Tiffany on 07/06 at 04:08 PM
_______________________________________________________________Yay! Congratulations! Enjoy your baby-moon.
Posted by Krissy on 07/06 at 07:43 PM
***Yay! I was so excited when you hadnt updated your blog-I was hoping you were having your baby. CONGRATULATIONS!
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 07/06 at 10:15 PM
***Awww congratulations
Posted by Keya on 07/06 at 11:04 PM
***Congratulations! :D
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 07/07 at 02:14 AM
***Congrats Tiffany! She’s beautiful! Thanks for updating us - now go get some rest!
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 07/07 at 10:01 AM
***She’s gorgeous!!! Congratulations (on the baby and getting the epidural =) ) It’s so cute to see you talk about her (all sweet and mushy). Here’s to hoping she stays sweet and Rosco figures out he’s still loved and special.
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 07/07 at 04:01 PM
***She’s beautiful! Great job. I’ll be interested to hear more about Rosco. We’re talking about Baby #2, and I am nervous about how that will go.
Posted by Stephanie in Suburbia on 07/08 at 11:09 PM
***I made a new post about Rosco. Please don’t let it scare you regarding 2nd kids! Rosco has a strong personality usually seen only in stubborn pre-teens.
Posted by Tiffany on 07/09 at 03:02 PM
***I’m not sure why I decided to read the whole post after you gave numerous warnings, but, too late in many different ways. I had to comment on the Rosco being a celebrity statement…that’s why I asked last time I was visiting if anyone could foresee him being a politician. I was reading on November birthdays (since that is when I am due) and their personalities (if you believe in that stuff) tend to be the kind you describe when you are speaking of Rosco at this time! Good luck and tell Scott to cut the Nice Act. I don’t know where he’s getting that from…
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 07/14 at 09:29 PM
***What a fantastic birth story! My first visit to your blog and I laughed and smiled and cringed right along with you. I am newly pregnant with my second. Gonna be a wild ride!
Posted by Andrea (Lil-Kid-Things) on 07/15 at 08:36 PM
***The second time really is wild! You sort of expect things to go like the first time, and then things derail!
Posted by Tiffany on 07/16 at 02:40 PM
***Congrats, Tiffany (and Scott - and Rosco whether he likes it or not). Like I said on your FB, you make such pretty babies! Just think what you’ll be able to do with her hair!
Melissa
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 07/16 at 07:36 PM
***:D
Oh, I’ve already started perusing headbands and bows. It could quickly become a new obsession!
Posted by Tiffany on 07/16 at 07:42 PM
***