There Is No One Else...

 I... take you, 

 

to be my husband,

 to have and to hold from this day forward,

 for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer,

 

in sickness and in health, 

  

to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part. 

 

 

There is no one else I could imagine spending every day of the last 21 years with.

Happy Anniversary 

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. 

If you’re inspired to do the same,

leave a link to your ‘moment’ over at SouleMama for all to find and see.

Merry Christmas!

We interrupt this long-drawn out birth story to celebrate the birth of The One who came down from Heaven to save us.  Thank you Jesus... and Happy Birthday!

In a good year, I have difficulty decorating for Christmas.  It's not that I don't love Christmas, it's just that I don't always have space for... "Christmas".  This year with Ramona and all of Ramona's stuff added to the household (and me, not having the where-with-all to get it organized on time) it seems even tighter.  The acquisition of this idea has put an end to that problem... introducing the half-tree!  For the last few years I have been using this technique to save space (and my sanity).  An artificial tree with only half the branches put on, slid it up tight to the wall (or bookshelf).  We only brought up on box of "Christmas" too.  As you can see, the ornaments are sparse but our hearts are full.

I usually delight in composing my annual Christmas letter, picking a color scheme, and working on the layout.  This year was no different...  I happen to LOVE the black and white/simple paragraph style.  E-mail me if you would like the template... As you can see, the format is sparse, but our hearts are full.

Click to enlarge.

Merry Christmas to all! and to all... a good night!

Losing Focus

That was a disappointment.  This dose of Nubain wasn't working AT. ALL.

I was losing focus pretty quickly.  I felt like a flailing baby, alone... falling... out of control.  Matt could not help, Hailey could not help (really anyway, what could they do? How could they know what I needed if I couldn't tell them?) I turned to the nurse for support and asked her what to do next because I had used up all my tricks.

She sweetly suggested an epidural.

With modern monitors and medication do nurses even know how to take care of laboring women anymore?  Or are they just there to interpret the information the machine spits out and administer the medication that takes care of the pain so you don't have to?  Is that why they insisted I remain in bed... to be monitored?  Would this nurse have had any idea how to help and support me through a tough labor had it not been near the end?  Have they lost the art because no one requires it of them anymore?  It never dawned on my that I should have added "a intuitive/caring nurse" to the list of prayers I had been reciting for the last few weeks.  I know having more support wouldn't have changed the outcome, it's pretty black and white:  All pregnant women eventually end up delivering.  A healthy baby and mom are the main objectives but the avenues taken to get to that end... do they matter?  I still think so.  I believe I am in the minority.

UGH!

"Let's just check you and see where you're at."

"5"

Because I know how my body labors, I knew this was it....  Soon I'd have a baby!

I voiced "It can't be long now"  because I knew...

I knew it darn-it! 

This is why the drugs weren't working... This was transition for me...  I knew it...

Replaying each of my experiences with this phase I always dubbed as my "don't remember time",  I knew it was almost time for "call the doctor", "set the stage" and "BAM! 7-8-9-10 -Baby".


I will never forget the look on the nurse's face as she replied to my statement of "It can't be long now".

The words, not so much, but the look... annoyance, irritation, pretentiousness...

"Well, I don't know about that."

BOOM!

Gone was my focus.  Every thing I knew, I didn't know anymore.  I lost all confidence and felt completely overwhelmed... I cried.  She had somehow, with that one look, undone all I had in me...

Defeated, I gave in... I caved... I went against all I knew about myself and my stamina.  I requested an epidural.

She checked me again... 8.  Too late for an epidural.

I wish I could report that with that news I mustered my fortitude and pressed on.  But I didn't.  I went on because I had no choice. 

I told her I was going to turn over and push.  She checked me again... 10. 

 I knew it darn-it!

I opened my eyes expecting to see the doctor and more nurses or at least the spotlights on.  Nothing.  No one.

I remember asking "Where is everybody?"  I don't know if anyone answered.

Next time I opened my eyes the stage was set...  the doctor appeared... I was pretzel-ed and pushing.  No one was talking (or cheering) I had no idea if I was making any progress.  I remember asking how I was doing and calling for some encouragement...

If there is a next time... I'm bringing the pep-band.

Climbing the Mountain

Nubain can only be given once every two hours.  I had a half an hour to go.

The feeling of being split in two was hitting me like a jack-hammer again but as the nurse checked me and said I was at 4ish I began to focus on my breathing and what has gotten me through most of my other labors.

It's a little trick I learned before Griffin was born and has always been useful to me.

Picture, if you will, a contraction as a line on a graph.  As the line rises the pain increases, and each contraction is like a mountain.  While in the valley, you are pain free.  On the way up the mountain the pain increases, but is usually tolerable... up to a point... the peak.  Only as you reach the summit does the contraction feel all consuming.  The second you start the descent, the torturous feeling gives way to cramping, the cramping lessens to aching and then, when you reach the valley, you can once again relax.

The trick is to convince yourself that, during this whole "mountaineering" process, only the few seconds at the pinnacle hurt.  The rest can be labeled "increasingly uncomfortable" or "steadily decreasing on the pain scale".  So actually, even when your contractions are lasting 1.5 minutes and they are 3 minutes apart, only a fraction of that is excruciating, the rest is a piece of cake!

On the fetal monitoring machine there is also a number associated with where on the mountain you are currently.  Matt's job has always been to watch that number and tell me the instant it decreases.  I don't think he understood why that was important to me.  Either I never explained it to him, or he wasn't listening when I gave that particular instruction, (or maybe he didn't care one iota about me and was actually in cahoots with that evil nurse)  because he was saying things like

"Well, that was a biggie" and

"whoa, it keeps going up"

or holding out on telling me when the number went down because he was waiting to see if it would go back up,

instead of just saying "it's going down"  which was all I wanted to hear.

There was no time to explain it now.  If I could just make it to 9:30 pm, I could have another shot of Nubain and all would be well with the world.

As I watched the hands on the clock move in slow motion, I, in my most convincing tone, requested, ever so sweetly, that the nurse have the drugs ready to administer immediately as the second hand reached the appropriate location.  I saw her go through the motions, but I don't think she ever went through with it.  (and I think I saw her head spin around)

I waited for that euphoric sensation, the giggling... the relief never came...

Pain Management

... so yeah, I cried...

Every time (but the first time because I had no idea what was going to happen) the rupturing of the membranes caused me to rethink the whole idea of having a baby.  No matter how much I had hoped it would happen or no matter how much I had begged the doctor to "induce me today, I've cleared my calendar... I promise... I'll make it quick"

I've cried and I've told everyone I changed my mind and I'm going home.  Being pregnant isn't that bad... and this time was no exception.

By now things were quite intense and I was pretty sure that someone was methodically sawing me in half with a dull butcher knife while systematically trying to open a hydraulically powered automatic beach umbrella in my hooha.  Add to that the fact that I was only at 3ish cm, strapped to the bed by the automatic blood pressure cuff, the IV lines, the fetal monitors and the paralysis of back labor,  I'm not surprised that I, for the first time ever, considered an epidural for pain management.  The new shift nurse asked me if I wanted anything.  I told her no but to come back in 20 minutes for my final answer.

An hour later when she appeared I had lost all respect for her, and everyone else for that matter,  and asked for Nubain.  I had to clear it with Hailey first as she was all up in my face and reminding me that I had done it before without any medication... I saw her head spin around at that moment, I just know it.

(Or maybe it was mine)

Then, I'm pretty sure I told her to shove it because she backed off and the nurse administered the medication.

Immediately, I started to giggle. 

For about an hour I felt great, dreamily saying things like "Ooooooo...That one hurted" or "Heeeeyyyyy you guys... "  or so they tell me.





Then, it wore off...

Ramona Caroline is Here

3 Weeks already?  Oh my, how the time has flown.

We welcomed Ramona Caroline into the world Tuesday, October 5, 2010.  She was 8 pounds 5 ounces and 21 inches long.  Born at 22:22 with much pain and agony.

Seriously, I think this was the most painful of all my births... it could have had to do with the fact that I was tired and worn out from labor... or it could have had to do with the fact that because I was tired and worn out and had lost my focus, I demanded pain medication.  It wore off right about the time I hit transition.  My biggest fear realized... Really, that's why I opted out of pain medication for all my other deliveries.  Now I know. 

It all started on Monday night with a dose of Cervidil to ripen my cervix.  With my 38 week pregnant belly measuring 43 weeks gestation, I settled in for the night with my Ambien while Matt and Hailey tried to get comfortable on the crappy hospital furniture sans medication.  8 am Tuesday morning brought no results so the Pitocin was started.

I've been induced for 4 out of the 6 times I've delivered babies and even the ones whose labor started naturally a definite pattern has been detected.  It takes FOR.EV.ER. to get things started.  I could walk around for a few weeks dilated to 3 and then even after labor starts things are very slow moving until about 6 cm.  Then BAM! 7-8-9-10-BABY in less than an hour.  I know this about myself.  I told the nurses who were with me all day that this was my normal pattern, so I wasn't too worried at noon when I was only dilated about 1 cm, the same as I was the week before at the doctor's office.  I was having contractions and they were regular but they were not being overly productive.

We Skyped with the boys who were waiting at home, we watched a marathon of Billy the Exterminator on TV, and Matt and Hailey ate breakfast, lunch and dinner before things started to look promising.  The contractions were wrapping around into my back... oh, the wonderful back labor that I am so familiar with.

For some reason they would not allow me to roam.  Just getting them to allow me to be upright in a chair was a fight.  By 4pm  I was adamant that they let me get up and walk around.  They agreed as long as I promised to come back every 15 minutes to be monitored... The first 10 minutes I was out and about I had 7 contractions.  WaHooo!

My 2nd attempt didn't get me past the nurses station when my water started to break.  Funny way to word that I know... but it took about an hour for me to gush out all the fluid that was hanging out in there!  I soaked through towel after towel, chucks pad after chuck pad...  2 changes of bed sheets and a few mop ups of the floor before it slowed down enough to consider it done.  "Copious amounts" one nurse commented.  I had set some kind of record in her mind and 33 years experience in Labor and Delivery. 

Without all that extra pressure my uterus relaxed a bit and contractions slowed.  I knew this was where the rubber meets the road, the real fun stuff was going to happen... and like every other time I had gotten to this point... I started to cry...

To be continued