Maggie's Birth Story

Margaret Anne

Before it gets all fuzzy in my memory and I get all wrapped up in Christmas fun, I want to take a few minutes to jot down Maggie's story. I love to journal and I always like to read other people's stories, so I'll share here, but be warned: this post will include things like vomit, urine, needles, surgery, catheters, dilation, amniotic fluid, breastfeeding, pumping, etc. If you don't want to read about those things, no problem! Just click that little x in the top corner and have a nice day! :) For the rest of you, this is not a short story and I am known to be a detailed story teller, so...settle in! ;)

It all started almost 3 weeks ago. It was Thursday afternoon and I was feeling queasy. For those who don't know, I was sick throughout most of my pregnancy. I ended up in the hospital dehydrated from vomiting at 10 weeks and was put on zofran, an anti-nausea medicine. I kind of hated some of the side effects and tried to decrease my dosage as often as possible, but wasn't able to quit taking it completely until 28 weeks. Even after that, about once every week or so I would have a day that would leave me feeling disgusting and lead me to take a zofran in order to be functional. All that said, that Thursday afternoon didn't seem too extraordinary. I took a zofran in the hopes of feeling well enough to attend book club that evening. I went, felt pretty lousy, but enjoyed the distraction of friends and conversation for a couple hours.

Upon returning home I just kept feeling worse. I went to bed thinking, "I would probably feel better if I could just throw up." I woke up several times thinking that I was going to be sick and finally just after midnight, I began throwing up. I went back to bed and hoped to finally get some sleep. However, sleep was not to be had for me for several more days. I woke up about 30 minutes later to get sick some more and during that time the hard contractions began. I was in shock. I was only 34 weeks pregnant. I should not be having contractions like this. They were coming fast--3-4 minutes apart. So, I tried to wake Pete, which took at least 5 minutes, every one of which felt like an eternity! He came in and immediately decided we were going to the hospital. By this point the contractions were only 2-3 minutes apart. He called the doctor, our parents, and a sweet friend who came to stay with the boys. I kept throwing up and trying to breath between contractions.

At the hospital, they checked me in and hooked me up to monitors. I was only 1 cm dilated and she was still up pretty high. Her heart rate looked great, but my contractions were very intense and 2 minutes apart. They gave me a shot of something to slow the contractions and tried to find a vein to start an IV. After several attempts they ended up putting a very thin needle into the inside of my forearm for lack of any better options. I was put on an IV of fluid because I was dehydrated and another bag of magnesium sulfate was added to weaken my muscles and stop the contractions. I just need to say that stuff is weird. It makes all of your muscles weak, including your heart, which as a result has to work harder to pump the needed blood for your body. As a result, my body felt achy and weak, but my heart was racing. My resting heart rate, laying in the hospital bed, was 115. It was bizarre.

The goal at this point in the game was to stop the contractions, or at least slow them drastically. Then I could switch to an oral medicine that keep the contractions away and they would send me home to be on bed rest for 2-3 weeks. They gave me a steroid shot for Maggie's lung development just in case they couldn't stop things. It took until late Friday night to get the contractions further than 5 minutes apart. Then throughout the night as they continued to pump me full of fluids, and the magnesium made me extremely thirsty, I was up to go to the bathroom every hour and a half to two hours--and I am not exaggerating! Between the potty breaks and the nurses checking my vitals, I don't think I slept for more than 45 minutes at a time that night. The next day, the contractions were 9-10 minutes apart at dawn. They gave me a second steroid shot, just in case. By 10am, I was only contracting once every hour or two. They switched me to the oral medication at 11 am and around 12:30, I had only had one contraction in the past two hours. I called Pete to tell him that they were working on my discharge papers. He took the boys to get a Christmas tree, while my mom stayed at the house with Will.

This is where the plan changes. I got up to go to the restroom--which I had been doing SO often. On the way back to my bed I felt a trickle down my leg. My water had never broken with any of the boys. I tried to excuse it away--maybe I just have so much fluid in my system? Then I sat down in the bed, Maggie gave a kick and more liquid came out. I called for the nurse. She got the nurse practitioner from my OB office, who happened to be on the floor, to come in right away. She took a sample to see if it was amniotic fluid, and explained that if it was I would be having this baby in the next 12-24 hours. Let me tell you, I have never hoped that I had peed myself before, but I did that afternoon. I called Pete to update him. He brought the boys and came straight from the tree farm. (Let me interrupt this program to give a shout out to Big Tree Plantation, the owners of which are a part of our homeschool co-op and had been praying for us, upon realizing who Pete was gave us our tree for free! Crazy-sweet people! We already loved going there after a great experience last year, but now we will never go anywhere else! And now, back to the story;) The sample was indeed amniotic fluid and my doctor was called in since I was only 34 weeks. She explained that they would obviously discontinue the meds that were stopping the contractions and then later that night we would start pitocin to get labor going again and that since it was my fourth baby, things would likely progress quickly and we'd have a baby before midnight.

I wish it had been that simple.

We started the pitocin around 9 pm. They increased it pretty quickly and when the contractions got more intense and more frequent, Maggie's heart rate would dip. It was scary. After monitoring things for a bit, we discussed options. A c-section was an option, but the doctor was trying to avoid that. At that point, we decided to back off the pitocin and see what happened when my body labored on it's own. Maggie handled that better, but I wasn't progressing. So, they gradually increased the pitocin and she was handling that better, but every few contractions her heart rate would drop. By 5 am, the doctor checked me and I had only progressed to 3 cm and Maggie was still pretty high. At that point, after watching her heart rate all night, when the doctor recommended a c-section, it was easy to agree. In came the anesthesiologist and he got me hooked up with some amazing drugs that made me pretty much numb from my chest down. By a little before 6am, they were wheeling me into the OR and by 6:25 am, I heard my little girl cry out and the tears flowed. I got a quick glimpse of her and then they took her to the special care nursery. Pete went with her, while they stitched me up.

Honestly, the rest of the day was a blur. I remember being so thirsty and more tired than I have ever been in my entire life. At that point, I hadn't slept for more than an hour at a time since Wednesday night. That night, before I went to bed, they let me get in a wheelchair and go up and hold my sweet baby. All praise to God, she was doing remarkably well
for a 34 week old baby. Her breathing was a little rough at first, but within a few hours she was sounding great. She was maintaining her body temperature on her own. They began telling us what we could expect and at that point I don't think I really caught all they were saying, but they were very patient and told me again later. :)

The doctor thinks that all of this happened because I was fighting some sort of infection and that my body wanted to get the baby out so that she could be safe. Amazing to think that God made our bodies so well!

I could go on and on about my recovery and about the following two weeks, but I need to feed a little one and get some sleep, so I'll just wrap things up. In the 12 days that followed, Maggie would have an NG tube put in to supplement her bottles because eating wore her out. By 7 days, she was eating more than half of her feedings by the bottle. And by day 10, she pulled out the tube and proceeded to eat the rest of the time from bottles, plus one feeding a day she was able to nurse. She's been home with us for 5 days now. She's gained over 8 ounces since she came home and is doing wonderfully. She is very sleepy, but nurses 3 times a day now and eats over 60 ml when she takes her bottles. She is adored by her brothers and her dad and I. We are eternally grateful for the wonderful nurses and staff at Bethesda North who took such good care of her. And even more thankful for the God who sustained her and continues to do so. He is so kind to us and we pray that she will never know a day that she doesn't hear about His love for her and that she will grow to serve Him.

Sam's birth story--an old post, imported from Xanga

I was having trouble linking up to Xanga, so I decided to copy these in from there. Now the important posts can all be found here.

Sam's birth story:
I finally have time and energy (sort of) to sit down and tell Sam's story. It's hard to believe it's only been a week since he was born! Let's rewind to last Thursday...

I had an appointment with my OB doctor that afternoon and she had told me the previous week that if I hadn't had the baby yet, she'd be "a little more invasive" during her internal exam. (ie, she'd strip my membranes) During her exam, she decided not to do that, saying that things were progressing "beautifully" and if she interfered my water would probably break right there in the office. She said she thought the best thing to do was to wait--that she imagined she'd see me in the hospital Friday or Saturday. This time, she was right!

Thursday night, we had our first Care Group (our churches small groups) which Pete is co-leading. We had assumed that we wouldn't be there, but alas, no baby, so we went. Throughout the study, which our friend Eric was leading, I had some stronger contractions, but they were pretty spread out. Once we were back home, they continued to be pretty strong--the take your breath away kind--but they weren't more than 15 minutes apart. At this point, Pete felt pretty certain that we were going to be meeting little Sam in the immediate future, but I was still not convinced--he'd fooled me a time or two already.

At 2:30am, I woke up with a seriously strong contraction. As I lay in bed, praying and breathing through it, I knew this was the real thing. I waited and watched the clock for the next hour. The contractions were 8-9 minutes apart. I woke Pete and told him that it wasn't going to be long. They continued like that for another hour and then they got a bit closer, approx. 7 minutes apart. At 5am I woke Pete and told him that if he wanted to get a quick shower, now was the time. Otherwise, we needed to start getting Jon up and load the few remaining things into the car. He called his parents, and went to shower. (which he did in record time!) I called my mom in between contractions and told her Pete would call once we had dropped Jon off at our friends' house and were headed to the hospital.

Poor Jon was so confused. Pete got him dressed and loaded him in the car and he kept saying, "too dark...so so dark." I tried to mask any pain or discomfort I was feeling, so that he wouldn't be scared or worried. We dropped him off at our friends' house around 5:45am and headed to the hospital.

By the time we were actually in the triage room and I was putting on the lovely hospital gown, it was 6:30am. My contractions were now less than five minutes apart. The nurse examined me and said I was at 6 centimeters and this was the real thing, she would call my doc and they were moving me into a labor and delivery room. By the time my doctor arrived, not long after that, I was already at 8-9 centimeters. She asked me if I wanted her to break my water--with Jon she had to break my water, but we waited at least two hours thinking they'd break on their own and then finally she broke it. At this point, my contractions were 2-3 minutes apart and I very enthusiastically told her to go right ahead. This moved me pretty quickly into transition and I was ready to push in minutes. The doctor had stepped out and they ran to get her. Once she came in and gave me the go ahead to push not-so-little Sam was with us in about 15 minutes. It was so much faster than last time. Unfortunately, since I only deliver future football players, I did need 18 stitches. (four more than last time)

Honestly, it didn't hurt any more than it had with Jon. In fact, just knowing better what was going to happen and having it happen quicker made the whole thing a lot easier. Also, Pete is such an awesome coach. He talked me through each contraction and gently rubbed my shoulders reminding me to relax. The nurses said they'd like to hire him to come coach other women because he was so good. He told them he was a one woman coach. :) I'm glad I'm that woman!

Back to the main attraction, Samuel Joseph. When they laid him on my chest, we all saw that there was a knot in his umbilical cord--a fairly tight one at that. They had, of course, been monitoring his heart beat until the very end when I was pushing, so we have to assume that the knot had been loose inside and was tightened during the actual delivery. My doctor, a wonderful Christian woman, said right away, "this is one blessed baby!" In spite of his knot, he got a 9 on his APGAR test and has been healthy as can be. (except a little jaundis) He weighed in at 10 pounds and 5 ounces and was 21 inches long. (although at the doctor's office on Monday he was already 22 1/2...someone was off somewhere!)

A couple of cool things...

1. Friday is Pete's long day at work (he works from 8am until 8pm...which usually turns into 9pm) and I had been kind of nervous about him being gone all day. And on top of that, my two friends that live fairly close to me were both going to be out of town on Friday. So, Thursday night I had prayed that if I was going to have Sam in the next 24 hours, could it either be before Pete left for work or after he got home...God is so sweet to me...

2. Our friends that watched Jon for us were going to be at our church all day on Friday. They were more than glad to have him with them, but they were going to be leaving their house by 7am. They were going to be getting up at 5:45am, we dropped Jon off at 5:45 am.

3. My mom's surgeon had told her that she could lift around 10 pounds...we aren't going to tell him about the extra five ounces!

Jon's birth story--an old post, imported from Xanga

Warning, I definitely rambled a bit in writing this--sorry!

A little background info: as many of you know, shortly before I got pregnant with Jon we decided that we needed to move and have a smaller mortgage so that we could afford for me to quit teaching. Since my dad builds houses, he offered to build us something if we could find land. Well, my brother found us a lot out in the middle of the woods--Pete's dream come true--and it was really inexpensive for our area. We made an offer around Thanksgiving and started the building process shortly after the new year began (2005). Our house sold quickly(on the market for 8 days!) in May and the family wanted to move in June 10th. Our new house was progressing really well--we were projecting to move in mid to end of July--so my parents generously offered to let us live in their basement for the 4-6 weeks until the house was finished. After signing the papers to close on the first house, we find out that there is a bit of a problem with the new house: it seems that the electric company doesn't feel comfortable with the terminology in our deed for the land. It's old (1921) and doesn't specifically include a right of way for electricity. They refuse to run power to our house until we can get the lot owners (4) between us and the road to sign off. Many, many more details could be included here, but to speed this story along I'll stop there and include in the birth story the ones that directly affect it.

***Disclaimer: this story does contain details guys might not enjoy or appreciate***

My original due date with Jon was August 25, 2005. At my 35 week appointment, late in July, my doctor does an internal exam. I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions since about 33 weeks and then she says, "Wow! He's already in position and your dilated to 1, maybe a little more...this little one could come any day now." Pete was with me and I think we both about fell to the floor--could come now? what? Neither of us expected that AT ALL. Each week following that she would say, "I probably won't see you back next week, I bet I'll see you at the hospital first!" or something similar. So I kept thinking any day now for three weeks...it was slightly maddening, because Jon actually came 5 days early, but it felt like he was late.

Fast forward to August 19th, a Friday. We're still residing in my parents' spacious basement. I had actually played a game of pool with my dad and Pete and a guy from my parents' church and then we got a phone call. The phone call was from this lady who claimed to be a lawyer for one of the land owners that we needed to sign off on the electricity. (later we found out she was lying, she was the lady's neice, not an attorney!) She was just plain nasty and refused to talk to Pete, she would only talk to me. I'm fairly laid-back and don't get riled up easily, but this woman was nasty. When I got off the phone, Pete, who had been listening, threw the phone across the room because he was so mad. What does this have to do with Jon's birth? I'm not certain that it does, but about an hour later my contractions started to come pretty heavily.

Around 9pm we headed for the hospital, the contractions were consistently about 5 minutes apart and they were powerfully strong. I didn't know it yet, but I was having back-labor because of the way Jon was facing. Yuck. There was a full moon that night, so the labor and delivery unit was crazy full. We ended up in a waiting room for over an hour before I could even get to triage. I think I was dialated to 3 or 4 when we got there and the contractions were even closer, so they let me stay, but there was a little hesitation on the part of one not-so-pleasant nurse. My water had not broken, so they encouraged me to walk around as much a I could. The back labor was terrible.

Around 5am, I was dialated to 8, but my water still hadn't broken and the back labor was so intense, they let me go in a hot-tub, whirlpool type of thing which helped in between contractions, but it was difficult to get situated during the actual contractions. I think it was at this point that I told Pete I didn't think I could make it any longer without any drugs. He pointed out that if I got them at that point they might not start working in time and it would kind of invalidate the hours that I had labored without them. He's pretty persuasive, I decided to stick it out. (although in hindsight, if I'd known I still had several hours to go, I might not have been persuaded!)

Between 7:30am and 8am, the doctor came and checked again. I was stuck at 8 and the water still hadn't broken. She asked if I was okay with her breaking my water--Are you kidding me? YES! She broke my water and I immediately transitioned and was at 10 ready to push. Thus began the hardest part, cleverly named "hard labor or the pushing stage."

*At this point I want to interject that in our Bradley class that we took, we watched 4 or 5 birth films. In each of them, they accurately portrayed most elements of labor. However, in each labor, they showed the woman push 3 or 4 times and the baby just came right out. Naively, I believed this to be truth...3 or 4 pushes and the baby is out!* I was in for a bit of a shock when I had to push for an hour and a half. I lost count of how many times I pushed, but it was easily over 20. Jon was born at 9:48am on Saturday, August 20th. Being the 9 pound, 4 ounce baby that he was, I did have an episiotomy followed by 14 stitches. (not so fun) However, I was up and walking around that morning, so...

That covers the birth...a quick add on: We went home on Monday morning with a billi-blanket because Jon was a bit jaundis. Tuesday we went to the doctor's office for a follow up and he quickly sent us to the hospital because Jon's jaundis (say that five times fast) had gotten much worse. We were readmitted to the pediatrics unit for 3 very long day and nights of heel pricks and feeding every 2 hours. It was very stressful, but everyone came out of it healthy, so I'm thankful!