Resignation
12pm K here, baby sideways, people bustling in and out. Anxious. Next post will be after baby.
11am IV in after two more attempts. Stuck on my side in a last ditch effort to get baby to turn. Hoping K gets here soon.
10am No IV yet, and contractions fading away, but the nurse came with the release for me to sign, acknowledging that I understand all manner of horrible things could go wrong up to and including death. I asked her to walk me through what was going to happen to me, and she was very patient and thorough. Still, I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I imagine is very similar to how I would feel waiting for my walk to the gallows or guillotine.
9am I've been IV free for a couple of days, which has been great, but it's time for a new one. One failed attempt so far, but the nurse was kind enough to call in anesthesia to make the second attempt. They should be here soon. In the meantime, I've had about 4 good contractions that seem wasted on a sideways baby. If I get another, I may walk a couple of laps to see whether the contractions keep coming or fade away like they usually do.
8am Baby was a complete breech this morning, but soon went back to his sideways position. I've been having mood swings this morning, alternately weepy and cranky. My first priority is a healthy baby, of course, but I can't imagine my life for the next weeks, not being able to pick up my children for cuddles or diaper changes, not being able to pick up the mess in the house, not being able to get up and down stairs easily, not being able to drive Layth to and from school, not being able to protect my children from the sugar diet and disrupted sleep schedules going on in my absence. I'm dreading even going home, knowing full well the frustration ahead when my OCD personality is faced with the total disruption and disorganization of my household. I'm sad that I've been here for most of a week, with no one else willing to take the children to cub scout meetings, halloween parties, and halloween zoo events, making them miss all those fun things in a vain attempt to avoid a C-section that I could have just done days ago and gotten over with.
I find myself getting annoyed with the sympathizers accusing the baby of being stubborn and with the cheerleaders urging me to keep walking, changing positions, and to try standing on my head. I've lost my sense of humor and am at risk of alienating everyone who's just trying to help.
As I reread what I've written, I realize how petty I sound, and how insignificant all of my worries and complaints are considering the losses I've suffered in the past and the fact that I'm going to be compensated for 6 weeks of strife with a lifetime of the joy and love that a beautiful new baby will bring, God willing. I'm going to think about that for a bit, then watch "Pirates of the Caribbean" for the umpteenth time since it always makes me happy.
11am IV in after two more attempts. Stuck on my side in a last ditch effort to get baby to turn. Hoping K gets here soon.
10am No IV yet, and contractions fading away, but the nurse came with the release for me to sign, acknowledging that I understand all manner of horrible things could go wrong up to and including death. I asked her to walk me through what was going to happen to me, and she was very patient and thorough. Still, I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I imagine is very similar to how I would feel waiting for my walk to the gallows or guillotine.
9am I've been IV free for a couple of days, which has been great, but it's time for a new one. One failed attempt so far, but the nurse was kind enough to call in anesthesia to make the second attempt. They should be here soon. In the meantime, I've had about 4 good contractions that seem wasted on a sideways baby. If I get another, I may walk a couple of laps to see whether the contractions keep coming or fade away like they usually do.
8am Baby was a complete breech this morning, but soon went back to his sideways position. I've been having mood swings this morning, alternately weepy and cranky. My first priority is a healthy baby, of course, but I can't imagine my life for the next weeks, not being able to pick up my children for cuddles or diaper changes, not being able to pick up the mess in the house, not being able to get up and down stairs easily, not being able to drive Layth to and from school, not being able to protect my children from the sugar diet and disrupted sleep schedules going on in my absence. I'm dreading even going home, knowing full well the frustration ahead when my OCD personality is faced with the total disruption and disorganization of my household. I'm sad that I've been here for most of a week, with no one else willing to take the children to cub scout meetings, halloween parties, and halloween zoo events, making them miss all those fun things in a vain attempt to avoid a C-section that I could have just done days ago and gotten over with.
I find myself getting annoyed with the sympathizers accusing the baby of being stubborn and with the cheerleaders urging me to keep walking, changing positions, and to try standing on my head. I've lost my sense of humor and am at risk of alienating everyone who's just trying to help.
As I reread what I've written, I realize how petty I sound, and how insignificant all of my worries and complaints are considering the losses I've suffered in the past and the fact that I'm going to be compensated for 6 weeks of strife with a lifetime of the joy and love that a beautiful new baby will bring, God willing. I'm going to think about that for a bit, then watch "Pirates of the Caribbean" for the umpteenth time since it always makes me happy.
posted by Nikki | 8:08 AM
3 Comments:
Poor you! (((Nikki)))
If it helps, a C-section is not the 6-week sentence of isolation and helplessness the doctors may lead you to believe. Less than a week after my second one, I had to make an emergency trip to the pediatrician with two babies by myself when Brason's elbow dislocated (I pulled his arm and he pulled back). He was 30 lbs at 20mos and I drove us three to the dr and carried both babies into the office. (Didn't occur to me to call Brendon-- my baby was screaming in pain.) Ya gotta do what ya gotta do.
Seriously, though, get one of those wrap-around abdominal support bands. It is worth its weight in gold and then some.
It'll be okay!
Love you,
Jeanne
It'll be okay, really! You get the epidural, they take you into the OR. You get van oxygen mask, they put up a drape so you can't see anything. You feel some tugging and pulling, but it's just weird, NOT painful... like at the dentist, when you can feel what they're doing but it doesn't hurt at all. The dr says, "What a HUGE baby!" They wrap him up, show you his sweet face, then dad and baby go off to the nursery while Mom gets closed up. You don't feel pain at all.
You can handle it. It's quick and easy, and you get a baby with a beautiful round head.
Love,
Jeanne
Sending lots of warm thoughts! Remember, this moment is just a begining! Hugs!
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