January 23, 2015
It was 6am and I was getting up to take my millionth pee for the night. First blessing of the day, I actually slept REALLY well that night. As I laid back down in bed, my lower back started aching. It wasn't the first time I've had that pain, especially this late in the pregnancy. But for some reason, that morning, and this time, I knew it was different-- mother's intution. I tossed and turned in bed, trying to find a position that would ease the pain, but no luck. I tried to pull my legs out of bed to walk around, but every little inch I moved killed! How the heck am I supposed to get Lincoln out of his crib in an hour? Second blessing of the day, Lincoln slept in for me.
It took every ounce of energy to get out of bed and go get a glass of water to alleviate my nasty cotton-mouth. Unfortunately, that glass of water made me nauseous (dang you water!) and by the time I choked down a saltine cracker, I was waddling like a mad-woman to the bathroom to throw up. Ever thrown up straight water before? It's one of the better things to throw up that's for sure. I'll say that was my third blessing.
Lincoln slept in till 8:15 which is rare. God knew I needed some extra time that morning and I'm super grateful to Him for that. It was enough time to be able to walk around a little bit and I mustered some strength to pull him out of his crib. He ran to his chair for breakfast and we skipped his usual oatmeal and I poured him a BIG bowl of cereal. I knew that would occupy him for awhile. I went and laid down on the couch while he ate. I didn't hear a peep out of him for 20 minutes until he said "more peease". I poured another big bowl, have at it kid.
After his breakfast, I tried having another sip of water. Bad idea. I waddled as fast as I could back to the bathroom with Lincoln following me. He stood next to me as I was throwing up. I thought he would be mortified seeing me like that, but instead, he took his chubby little hand and stroked my shoulder. My 22-month old was showing me the love I needed in that very moment. There were a few seconds that I was able to focus on Lincoln and how sweet he was being......and then he closed the toilet lid (almost on my head), flushed the toilet, and walked away.
After his breakfast, I tried having another sip of water. Bad idea. I waddled as fast as I could back to the bathroom with Lincoln following me. He stood next to me as I was throwing up. I thought he would be mortified seeing me like that, but instead, he took his chubby little hand and stroked my shoulder. My 22-month old was showing me the love I needed in that very moment. There were a few seconds that I was able to focus on Lincoln and how sweet he was being......and then he closed the toilet lid (almost on my head), flushed the toilet, and walked away.
I texted Ryan and said he needed to come home. I'm 99.9% sure I was in labor and even if I wasn't, I needed him to work from home that day. He was home by 930 and that's when the contractions started coming. Every 5 minutes. We were at the hospital by 11am.
Fast forward to that afternoon when things got a little ugly. I was taking fentanyl for the pain, which was effective the first time, less effective the second dose, and the third dose wouldn't even touch the pain. They waited to tell me every dose would become less and less effective. Uhh? Thanks for nothing! It was late afternoon and I had stopped progressing and knew that I needed an epidural at this point since the drugs weren't even touching the pain. But guess what? After they brought the epidural cart in and got everything set up, they told me that my platelets were too low to receive an epidural. WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?! This is the point where things got REALLY ugly, and by "things", I mean, "me". Ryan saw a different side of me that day. A side that I'd rather not have to bring out ever again unless someone tells me they won't give me an epidural. Ever seen a mama bear protecting her cub? Well, I was the mama bear and the epidural cart they wheeled out of my room to give to another mother-- well, that cart was my baby cub. Ryan later said he would try paying off the anesthesiologist to give me an epidural anyway. My husband is the best.
They said they would redraw blood and do another platelet count. That was the. longest. wait. EVER. And then the nurse came back and said, the platelets were still too low.
But then another blessing. The anesthesiologist came in and agreed he would give me the epidural since the platelets weren't dropping anymore and the levels weren't too below the cut-off. He instantly became my hero.
Then, shortly after receiving my glorious epidural, I learned something new. It's called a hot-spot. It's when you get an epidural and there's a patch that the epidural doesn't touch. My first contraction after the epidural kicked in, I thought my left hip was on fire. Literally. Hence the name, hot-spot. It was localized to my left hip and even though it was extremely painful, it was a whole heck-of-a-lot better than where I was prior to the epidural.
And then it was time...
Luckily, after my lack of pain management ordeal, I was blessed with a speedy delivery. After 2 pushes, I had the greatest blessing of the whole day in my arms, Simon Barry Shideler. And my day became perfect, just like him.
The next day, Ryan brought Lincoln in to meet his new brother, and eventually BFF. Lincoln brought me a rose, a chocolate doughnut (which he ended up helping himself too), and a trash magazine. My boys take good care of me. :)
And lastly, the look of a mother who realizes getting a family photo will become more and more of challenge...
Fast forward to that afternoon when things got a little ugly. I was taking fentanyl for the pain, which was effective the first time, less effective the second dose, and the third dose wouldn't even touch the pain. They waited to tell me every dose would become less and less effective. Uhh? Thanks for nothing! It was late afternoon and I had stopped progressing and knew that I needed an epidural at this point since the drugs weren't even touching the pain. But guess what? After they brought the epidural cart in and got everything set up, they told me that my platelets were too low to receive an epidural. WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?! This is the point where things got REALLY ugly, and by "things", I mean, "me". Ryan saw a different side of me that day. A side that I'd rather not have to bring out ever again unless someone tells me they won't give me an epidural. Ever seen a mama bear protecting her cub? Well, I was the mama bear and the epidural cart they wheeled out of my room to give to another mother-- well, that cart was my baby cub. Ryan later said he would try paying off the anesthesiologist to give me an epidural anyway. My husband is the best.
They said they would redraw blood and do another platelet count. That was the. longest. wait. EVER. And then the nurse came back and said, the platelets were still too low.
But then another blessing. The anesthesiologist came in and agreed he would give me the epidural since the platelets weren't dropping anymore and the levels weren't too below the cut-off. He instantly became my hero.
Then, shortly after receiving my glorious epidural, I learned something new. It's called a hot-spot. It's when you get an epidural and there's a patch that the epidural doesn't touch. My first contraction after the epidural kicked in, I thought my left hip was on fire. Literally. Hence the name, hot-spot. It was localized to my left hip and even though it was extremely painful, it was a whole heck-of-a-lot better than where I was prior to the epidural.
And then it was time...
Luckily, after my lack of pain management ordeal, I was blessed with a speedy delivery. After 2 pushes, I had the greatest blessing of the whole day in my arms, Simon Barry Shideler. And my day became perfect, just like him.
And watching Lincoln with Simon, and saying his name-- just down right melts my heart.
And lastly, the look of a mother who realizes getting a family photo will become more and more of challenge...
Our first, FAMILY of 4 PHOTOS!
No comments:
Post a Comment