Type A, for Anxious

Let’s talk about something…

As I’ve mentioned before, I am a Type A person. I have a Type A personality - To. The. Core.

Most of the time, I speak those words with confidence and pride. It is directly related to my organization, problem-solving, and planning skills. I feel like it allows me to simplify things – processes, plans, even thoughts. I believe it pushes me to be more assertive, and passionate, and strong-willed. It’s what makes me chant, “Girls!” right along with Beyoncé, when she asks, “Who run the world?”

But, medically speaking, a Type A person is not the most desirable of personalities. We are uptight and particular. Things, like straying from our plans or outlines, can upset us - physically. We get stressed easily and wear it longer. We have high blood pressure and a prevalence of heart issues. We are more prone to anxiety disorders, and thank God we find people to put up with us…

Our laid-back counterparts, with Type B personalities, live much longer. They can go with the flow and let things roll off their backs. They have simply mastered the “subtle art of not giving a f*ck.” In so many ways, I am envious. I want to let go of things. I want Heath to put a cup on the back of the sink and for my brain to tell me, “that’s alright; it’s no big deal.” Instead, I have a little itch in the back of my mind that continues, until I move that stupid cup. Ugh…

The particularity was certainly something that I was gifted by my father. I once made fun of how he stacked the mail, next to the toaster, biggest envelopes on bottom and smallest on top. Or, how he would neatly fold his paper towel, to set underneath his cup of iced water. Or, how all the items in the center compartment of his truck have a place, and are not to be touched. Today, that is me. And, thankfully, over time, I have watched some of my father’s particularities fade; there is hope for me yet!

Nevertheless, this personality of mine has always made me a bit, what I lovingly call, “crazy.” I assess things, I over-think, and I base my decisions off all of these emotions. This has made me a bit overwhelming, for lack of a better word, in the past. As you might remember from previous ramblings of mine, I have frequently obsessed about being away from my kids, the risks of SIDS, and many other things. I would dump those concerns on anyone with ears who made eye contact with me. Spewing my apprehensions made me feel comforted and more in control. That was really what my obsession was about – having control. Kids seemed to take that concept away from me. Once you have children, you quickly learn how not in control you are. You think things will go a certain way, and HA! Yeah….no, kids have their own agendas. And, ultimately, God runs the show.

For several years, I tried to explain to Heath how anxious I could get, over seemingly not very big things. I mean, everyone around me was telling me that I was over-thinking. I would agree, but couldn’t stop. 

“I’m just an uptight person.”

“It isn’t hurting anyone, by taking extra precautions.”

“I just get nervous.”

“I can keep it under control.”

"I can control it."

I seriously could control it, for several years. That is, until I couldn’t.

Almost two years ago, we made a very impulsive decision to buy a new home. We walked into a home, not planning on buying it, and then made an offer on it just three days later. The whole thing was a whirlwind, and so very much not like me. Many nights, I cried, thinking we made a huge mistake. We had three kids, and then we added another mortgage. We spent about six months showing our previous home. That meant, to this Type A woman, I spent six months cleaning the house like a crazy person, limiting the kids’ activities, and keeping them contained to particular rooms. We simplified, and organized, and planned for our uncertain future. And, I cried. I cried a lot. Honestly, I didn’t know what else to do. I was, to put it bluntly, “freaking out.” I like plans. I like knowing what the next step is. I like familiarity. The lack of control was draining me. Several evenings I would sneak out of bed, go to the living room, do fire-breaths, write in a journal, and cry. I tried so hard to control it. If I could just have a good cry, I would be fine the next day. 

One particular night, I was sitting on the couch, writing in my journal about my neurosis. I had tears streaming down my face. I was just…worrying…about nothing, and everything. I didn’t know what to think about our future. I was overwhelmed, and stressed, and tired. Heath came out from the bedroom and saw me. I tried to dismiss him, telling him that I was just a bit overwhelmed. 

This was the first time that Heath suggested that I talk to my doctor.

“I can control it,” I told him. “I’m fine.”

More months passed by. We sold our home, and decided to move into the fixer-upper that we bought. When I say fixer-upper, I can’t even begin to explain to you what that meant. We set up a temporary living situation in the lower-level of the home, with a very make-shift, but functioning kitchen. The upstairs living area, we gutted down to the studs. The environment was unorganized, hectic, and…made me crazy. I hated living in such an unorganized mess. Even better, I work part-time from home, so I got to be in this mess all day, every day – just looking around at all the things that needed to be done.

Within all of this, my brain decided to focus my worry, anxiety, and apprehensions on the safety of the kids. I mostly blame it on the unfamiliarity of the house, the walls, the layout – it didn’t feel like “home.” I still believe I have a somewhat rational fear for the safety of my kids. I mean, what mom doesn’t worry about her children constantly? But, it got to be too much. I started obsessing over it. I tried to control it. I tried to vent my way through it. One morning, I couldn’t stop my thoughts, and I actually became physically ill, worrying about the kids. Just worrying…

I couldn’t control it after all...

I called Heath and told him, “I need to talk to Dr. B.”

I imagine he was silently praising the Lord, thankful that I finally swallowed my pride.

When the words poured from my mouth, and into Dr. B’s ears, she immediately responded with, “I knew it was only a matter of time before you talked to me about this.” Unlike me, she wasn’t dismissing all of my rants. She was taking note, knowing that one day I would be ready for, well, help.

I was prescribed anxiety medicine. I was told that it may just be this season of my life, and I may find a time in my life that I can stop taking it – once again being able to control my thoughts a bit. But, for now, why fight it? Why suffer? Why cry my eyes out with worry?

So, I left the doctor’s office to go pick up my prescription. I was, ironically, anxious. Ridiculous, right? I called Heath, doing what you ask? Crying. Of course, I was. I’m going to be on meds. I was going to be taking a pill daily. There would be side-effects. What if they changed me? What if I could never go back off of them? What if? What if? What if?

I drove right passed the pharmacy that evening and didn’t fill my prescription.

The next day, I called the doctor’s office, basically asking the nurse to talk me into taking the medicine. And, she did. I went and bought them, and took them, and prayed. 

Then…I felt better. I felt so much better. I didn’t realize how “out of hand” it had gotten, until I was no longer dealing with it. That was when I decided that I wanted to talk to my family about it. It wasn’t until after I spoke about my experiences that I found out - both sides of my family have a history of anxiety. One family member, never really knew why she had anxiety and fought it her whole life (back in the “olden days,” before we understood). It made me sad.

So, I started talking about it to everyone who was willing to listen.

I once shied away from the topic, or felt the need to justify it. I know how important mental health is (obviously! Psych background!). But, having to be on this side of it, when you feel like the spotlight is on you, is not as easy as it is taught. Nevertheless, as time goes on, I become more confident in myself. I feel this weird sense of responsibility to talk about my anxiety. I hope I can make others feel more comfortable with their own struggles, and perhaps encourage them to talk to their doctor. It is not uncommon. It is not weird. It isn’t something that we all need to whisper about behind closed doors.

I know, for some, me talking about this makes them feel uncomfortable. Sorry, but really…I’m not sorry. This is the reality for some of us – more of us, I think, than you realize. 

I wanted to tell you all, because if you want to know much more about my journey in this life, you have to know this integral part of who I am. 

I have anxiety. And, I take medicine for it. And, that is okay.

Update of Us

Well, how have you all been? It's been a while, hasn't it? Well, here I am. Still trucking along with at least one blog post a month...I hope I haven't completely abandoned all of my readers....I still continue to strive for more posts per month, but I am also trying to be realistic. I'm struggling.

Do you remember how I used to whine and complain that I didn't have enough time? Time for being a mom, wife, full-time employee, homemaker, etc? Yeah, well, what made me think adding "student" to that list of roles would be seamless? It's not! I spend approximately 1 or 2 hours on my homework at least 5 nights a week. Now, I have a big project coming up, that is due on December 5th.That is truly my light at the end of this course tunnel. I think after that, I will be able to breathe again...at least until January when courses start again. Wish me luck!

I guess I should give you some other updates on our life, before I just jump right back into the swing of things. Last time you heard from me, besides the Halloween on TV schedule, I still had a pretty "open wound," from miscarrying. I can now say that I grieved properly and can now talk about it without losing myself. To be honest, it all just kind of seems like a dream, like it didn't really happen. I am still having minor issues in the "women's health" department, and will be going to give another blood sample later today; but, otherwise, I feel like this chapter is coming to a close. The miscarrying was awful. I had a couple of really, really hard days. If you follow this group on Facebook, you probably already knew that. But, with grieving comes comfort.

Through the awfulness of miscarrying, I thanked God. I thanked him for sending us to the hospital that day for the ultrasound. I am so thankful I found out that way. I can't imagine finding out in any other way. Plus, we now have ultrasound pictures of our angel baby - something I will treasure always.

When it rains, it pours in our house for some reason. I will continue on my Debbie Downer discussion and tell you that just a few weeks ago we lost our sweet, Chico Bandido.

 

He was 9 (the same age as Co-Co, when we lost her). We found out that he had congestive heart failure and a few days later, he passed in his sleep. I am sad; but, he was an older dog, who lived a wonderful life that other dogs dream of. He was spoiled rotten! We miss him; yet, I know he is with Co-Co now and they are having a ball...or playing with a ball...or something like that. ;)

Halloween came and went, all in a complete blur. Now the other holidays are upon us. I am prepared to put this awful fall behind me and take a nosedive right into Thanksgiving, Black Friday, winter, and our beloved Christmas. Don't get me wrong, not all of this fall, thus far, was terrible. I had some great times. Perhaps I will go into those more sometime.

Lucy is growing like crazy and has become a little kid, rather than a toddler. :( Bummer. Olive, is not a baby anymore and is a toddler. Crazy how time flies. I'll share more about their crazy, nerd sister antics later. :)

Have a happy Thursday. I hope I didn't bum you out. That was not my intention. Before I could really move on, I needed to fill everyone in on the bad and the ugly...now onto the good!

Loss

I debated a few times whether to title this post "Loss" or "Lost."

I guess I should first tell you that this is not a fun story. It is in no way exciting or upbeat. Please do not expect it to be so.

A few weeks ago I was late. And, by late, you know what I mean. I haven't been keeping track of my cycle, so I wasn't exactly sure how late I was. But, Heath and I were fairly certain that there was no need to consider the alternative to having a period; because, we had been careful. As days passed, Heath finally woke me up in the middle of the night one early morning. He insisted that I take a pregnancy test the next morning. I agreed.

I woke up early the next morning and thought about what Heath had said. It got into my head and I couldn't get back to sleep. So, I hopped out of bed and took one. I was shocked. I have taken these many times before. I usually pee, wait, try to decide if a line is showing or not...not this time. As soon as the wetness hit that line, it immediately read positive. I was, well, shocked. I guess Heath and I hadn't been as careful as we thought.

I ran to the stairs and yelled at Heath. He said he just knew it; he was so excited. I was still shocked and well, overwhelmed. I am a planner. It was not in sync with my plan. I had just started graduate school. Olive wasn't even one year old yet. We didn't have a vehicle that could fit three car seats. All three of them would be in high school at one time. I was just overwhelmed.

Heath had a golf tournament that day. So, I was home alone. I literally just sat around all day, freaking out. My heart would race. I was so worried about being able to handle it all. I was afraid that people would call us crazy.

As time passed, we told more and more family and friends. I was excited. Babies are miracles and the best blessings! However, I was not at all prepared for the responsibility and was still worried about it. I kept telling myself that by April, we would be ready. Heath was so excited. I'll be honest; he didn't seem this excited with either of the girls. He just knew this one was a boy. Since it wasn't planned, it was so much more exciting to him. Since it wasn't planned, I was having a much harder time wrapping my brain around it.

I went to the doctor to have it confirmed. I had another freak out moment at the doctor's, when she told me congratulations. I just couldn't believe it was all real. Could I do this?

We weren't really sure when exactly I got pregnant. And, my last period was really light. So, Dr. B suggested that I get an ultrasound. Then, we could know how far along I was. I was excited at the chance of this. I had never had one this early. So, around, what I would guess was at 8 weeks or so, I went in with Heath for an ultrasound.

Checking in was normal. We joked around about twins and wondered if I could really be 12 weeks along or so. We guessed a due date of around April 25th.

"What pregnancy is this for you?"

"My third."

"Two live births?"

"Yes."

"Any miscarriages?"

"No."

We started with a normal ultrasound of my stomach. I had no idea what we were looking at. It was all blobs to me. I did see a blob once that I was guessing might be a little baby spec. But, the tech didn't say anything. She measured stuff. She looked at the colors, which if I recall correctly was blood flow. I felt really uneasy about her demeanor. She wasn't talking us through it at all. I was then asked to go to the restroom and wrap up in a sheet for an internal ultrasound. Once in the bathroom, I could hear her ask for someone else to come into the room.

I tried to talk myself through my uneasiness. I was being paranoid. You know me. I was always worried about this stuff. I came back out and another woman had joined us. They just stared at the screen. They didn't turn it toward us. They didn't say, "Here is your baby." Nothing. I tried to read their faces. It was just stone-cold silence.

I looked at Heath and mouthed, "Is everything okay?"

The tech caught me and asked if I was comfortable. I said, "Yes; I am just worried about all of this."

She didn't respond.

The other woman left the room.

I was fairly certain that I knew at that moment. This wasn't good.

The other woman came back into the silent room.

She asked if I was going to see Dr. B after the ultrasound. I was going to. She said that Dr. B wanted to talk to me about today's results.

I asked, "You can't tell me anything?"

The tech looked at me, curled her mouth downward and said, "We aren't picking up a heartbeat. There was a pregnancy. The baby is measuring 6 weeks and 4 days, but that is as far as this baby got."

I started to sob, hard.

Heath rubbed my arm. He was so strong for me. He kept telling me that everything was going to be okay.

They asked if we needed a moment and I just cried on Heath's shoulder. I had done this. I was overcome with guilt. I had worried about it too much. I had treated this baby like an inconvenience in "my planned out life." I had acted like it didn't fit into my story. The guilt came rushing over me. This was my fault.

They had asked if I wanted ultrasound pictures. I did. I got two pictures of our baby - Baby Christiansen #3. I had already started taking pregnancy photos and filling out a belly book. We had already made plans for this baby - the car seat, when to buy his or her crib, and so on. It wasn't something that we could just ignore and pretend didn't happen or exist.

I took my photos and a book they gave us, "Dealing with Miscarriage," and walked out into the hallway. I quickly tucked the purple book into my bag. I didn't want everyone to see the woman with the purple book and know what had happened.

We got to the car and cried some more. Heath told me that it wasn't my fault. He was just so incredibly strong for me. He kept it together for me and allowed me to sob on his shoulder uncontrollably. I really couldn't ask for a better husband or father for my children.

We finally met with Dr. B. She echoed Heath's comments to me. "This is not your fault. It is nothing you did."

She said I had a bleed. That is fairly common. But, it was too close to the baby and the baby wasn't able to develop. We didn't really ask questions at that point.

I felt so guilty. I had sat in her office less than a week before, crying because I was so overwhelmed. Now, I was sitting here, babyless. How ungrateful am I?! What a terrible person I was. I did want that baby! I did! I loved that baby. I prayed for it.

We discussed the actual miscarrying. I still haven't miscarried. I am carrying around our baby. I am still carrying it with me. The thought of this, just breaks my heart.

I chose to miscarry naturally if I could. I hear that it can be quite emotional and traumatic. I can't bear to think of it. I just want to get it over with and start to feel closure with this loss.

Right now though, I am lost. I don't really know how to move forward. I can't sit still for too long or I start to think about it. I get upset. As quickly as I knew this baby was here, it was gone.

I am just trying to keep busy in the meantime. Heath and I don't really know how to move forward while something like this is still looming. Please just pray for us. We need all the support we can get. Despite what Heath tells me, I still have moments of incredible guilt. How dare I question God's plan? But, again, this must have been his plan. I am still trying to figure out why we were to experience this. I hope he speaks to us soon.

Thank you for all of your prayers. We will make it through this. We are a strong family. Please, if you see me, do not ask me how I am doing. I may just break down into tears. I prefer not to do this in public. I hope that isn't a selfish request...

I hope I can feel "normal" again soon. Before now, I thought that miscarriages were commonplace. I felt sad for them, but I didn't realize how a loss such as this can make you feel so lost.

I debated sharing our story. I thought that it might help me in some way. I like to know that I have a support system out there, praying for us. I am also so forthcoming with you guys about my pregnancies and our life changes. I felt that I needed to share this too, in a way. I thought too that perhaps writing it down might make it feel a little more real to me...I don't know. I just don't know...

Birth Story: Part 3

This is the final installation of the three part story, that is Olive's birth. :) Nothing like 5 months later...

After the actual laboring and birthing, we get to all the oohing and awing that I did. Also, I should really discuss the pain I felt afterward as well. To be honest though, I have forgotten most of it. I waited too long and those memories are fading. They always say that it's the easiest pain to forget and "they" sure are right! Although every time I hear someone say that, I think of my Granny. She had a ten pound baby (my dad) all natural back in 1960. Then, she was bedridden for four days after. I'm sure her pain was a little harder to forget than mine...

Dad, have you thanked Granny lately? You totally should! In fact, your birthday is this Saturday. You should tell her "thank you!"

Anyway,  I will tell you that the night after Olive's birth, I was so thirsty. I hadn't drank anything in over 24 hours; I had only had one cup of ice and nothing else. Plus, I had lost a reasonable amount of blood with the surgery. I begged for something to drink and couldn't have it...darn! The next morning I scarfed down my breakfast and started drinking. But, I was way too into holding Olive and just looking at her to be overly hungry.

I have several, several, pictures like this. I apparently stared at her...a lot. But, I'm sure other mothers can attest. Seeing their face for the first time, that little miracle, is simply amazing. I couldn't get enough!

As the day went on, my blood pressure kept getting really low and they asked me to drink more water. Ugh, the irony. I was slightly annoyed. It went from "can't drink anything" to "drink more."

It was about 14 hours after surgery that I got to take off my massage "booties." Those things were amazing! I loved them. Once they were off, I got my catheter out. Uncomfortable! But, I could get up now! At first, I felt pretty good. Not too much pain. It seriously took over 24 hours before all of the spinal had worn off and I started to really feel the pain. It was worse than a vaginally delivery, for me. When my bladder would get full, I had a lot of pain on the incision. When I would go pee, then it wasn't as bad. So, I kept running to and from the restroom, or rather shuffling to and from. It sure was different than what I had experienced before. Pain in a completely different place, but still all of the gross discomfort...if you women know what I mean.

I really didn't mind though. I was completely on cloud nine. I seriously was on a high. I didn't get irritated at all and was just as happy as I could be. It was different than with Lucy. Perhaps my body has changed, or I have...something like that. The high lasted until, well, basically until I went back to work. Whomp, whomp. I won't beat that dead horse, so moving on...

Lucy came to visit and spent most of the second day with us. She loved seeing her new, baby sister.

She even held her for photos. When someone would talk to her, she would stick her fingers to her lips and tell us that her baby sister was sleeping. :) She's a great big sister!

The day we got out of the hospital, Lucy was there again. We wanted to make sure we got to experience these things as a family!


Then, it started. Olive was upset. I had to feed her before we hit the road. We sat the girls down to take this photo, and Lucy pooped her pants - more delay. They were breaking us in right away, to having two! That is alright though. Cloud nine...

I was welcomed home to this wonderful display my mom and sister put together - presents for all!

 

Oh boy, now that I've waited 5 months, this post is giving me baby fever. No way, Jose. We really would need a van then!

The rest is wonderful, laid-back, best baby in the world, knock-on-wood, history. :)

Birth Story: Part 2

After finally getting to the surgery room, I felt great. I was a little scared of the spinal and I was still having contractions. But, to know there was an end in sight felt wonderful. Also, I had been to that surgery room before, when I had my gallbladder taken out; so, there was some familiarity to it all.

The spinal had a little sting to it, and I would say was very comparable to an epidural. It took a while, so I asked a few questions of the anesthesiologist. How much will I feel? Will this make me nauseous? How does it only numb me from the arms down?

I had drank some tart, grape drink before I went down to surgery. It was supposed to help with the nausea. I was hoping so. I had heard horror stories about women throwing up during their entire surgery. Nothing sounded worse than throwing up while laying on your back. Plus, talk about a moment ruiner...

I was on my back, arms strapped down, and the sheet was up before Heath was escorted into the room. They had already asked how much I could feel. It was the most bizarre feeling. With an epidural, it was somewhat scary to me. I felt completely out of control and almost paralyzed. I hated looking at my leg, trying to move it, and being unable to do so. It truly freaked me out. With the spinal, I could feel. But, I couldn't feel everything. I could feel them rubbing stuff on my belly, which I was told would normally seem cold. I only felt the movement and not the coldness. Then, she started to make the incision. I remember knowing that she was about to cut, when Heath came by the sheet. I thought for sure that he would see the blood and pass out on the spot.

When he got to me, he was feeling pretty good. He had popped a Xanax upstairs and was what I would describe as three-beer-Heath. He was invincible and when they told him that he could stand to watch, he did! I kept asking him, "Are you sure? Are you okay?"

Getting Olive out only took a few minutes. This is what I heard:

"Okay, get ready to meet Baby Olive."

"Oh, she has hair!"

"Heath, get the camera ready."

"She's no peanut."

"Here she is!"

Heath stood up the whole time, snapping pictures with the camera in one hand and video recording with his phone in the other. The video is great! :) It is kind of gross though, and so are the pictures. I thought I would spare you.

She was born at 6:42 pm.

As soon as I heard her let out her first wail, I broke down. I just cried and cried. It still wasn't quiet real to me. Nothing quiet prepares you for hearing your baby cry for the first time, or seeing them either. While I was blubbering, unable to wipe away my tears, Dr. B leaned Olive over the sheet for me to see. In her gross, bloody, crying state, she looked like Lucy. Then, as quickly as she was there, she was gone. They took her across the room to check her. Heath followed, snapping pictures like crazy.

 

We all anticipated the weight. I overheard a conversation between Dr. B and the nurses on how much they thought she'd weigh. Dr. B was pretty close, saying that she thought she would be close to 9 lbs. She was 8 lbs and 11.5 ounces. She was 2.5 ounces more than Lucy and a week early! The shocker for me was, she was 21 inches long! That was 2 inches longer than Lucy. I just kept repeating it over and over. "21 inches? Wow, really? 21 inches?"

Olive cried and cried, until Heath said something to her. It seemed as though she recognized his voice, because she immediately stopped. It was so sweet. It warmed my heart. 

Olive and Heath were off to my right and a little over my head. After about ten minutes of watching, my neck and eyes started to hurt from straining. So, I stopped and laid flat again. Then, it hit me like a ton of bricks the 36 hours of little to no sleep. I was so tired. It was like my body knew that it was over and Olive was okay. I let my eyes close a few times as I jerked them back open. Finally, I called Heath over. "I'm going to close my eyes and I might fall asleep, is that okay?" 

I felt like a jerk; but, I literally couldn't stay awake. He of course told me that was alright, as he went back to Olive. I then fell in and out of sleep for the next hour or so. I woke up once because I was nauseous. I thought I might throw up. When I told the anesthesiologist, she got me a "throw-up sleeve," as I like to call them. Dr. B heard me and said that she was pushing on my stomach and that was probably what was causing it. Thank goodness the nausea passed and before I knew it the sheet was pulled down.

While they were moving me to a bed, Dr. B went to check on Olive. She is such a caring person and you can tell that she loves her job!

Funny story about the nurse in the maroon, over Dr. B's shoulder. She was a student when I had Lucy. I remembered her, only because her name is also my middle name. When she came in for the surgery and introduced herself, I immediately asked if she was a student back in February 2010. It was her. She was present for both of my girls. :)

Once settled, I finally got to hold her too. :)

She still looked a lot like Lucy to me.

We were taken to the recovery room, where I was able to have a few guests. I asked for Heath to go tell my sister to bring Lucy down. Little did I know, Dr. B had already went to get Lucy! haha. :) I think she was excited too.

Lucy was pretty excited and surprisingly not freaked out at all by the hospital. She rubbed Olive's head and talked to her. For the first time that evening, Heath cried. My sister did too. It was a special moment.

We finally got back upstairs around 9:30 pm. Good thing we have our babies on the weekend. :)

Everyone was thrilled. I have to say though, do you see Heath's sister's boyfriend over in the corner with his arms crossed? Haha. I have a picture similar to this one, when Lucy was born. Except, then, my cousin was keeping him company. I just don't think men/boys are into this stuff as much, unless it's their baby or grand-baby.

Everyone stayed only for a while and left to let me sleep. I was able to breastfeed her downstairs in the recovery room. So, I waited until the next feeding and then let the nurse take her to the nursery. We learned from Lucy, that for us, it was better for her to go to the nursery. I didn't have any trouble sleeping and was excited each and every time they brought her in to feed.

- To Be Continued -

Birth Story: Part 1

September 6th - Induction day!

Following what was arguably the longest day at work ever, I said farewell to my co-workers and giddily got into our car for home. I was antsy to say the least. I just wanted to get the show on the road. I was so ready in all senses of the word. Ready to meet her. Ready for newborn cuddles. Ready to take 8 weeks off work. Ready to bend over and tie my shoes again. Ready, ready, ready.

We got home and tried to go about our usual business. Heath fed Lucy supper while I took a shower. Our bags were already packed - had been for over a week. I checked my list for last minute items to add. Phone, phone charger, makeup, etc. Check. I was ready. We took one last photo of our family of three, knowing that it would never again be the same. Life changes were happening. :)

We hopped into the car to take Lucy out to my mom's house. We were on time, for once, and were scheduled to arrive at the hospital about ten minutes before 8 pm. We said a quick goodbye to Lucy and told her that we were on our way to "go get" Olive. She was basically oblivious to the whole idea and was completely fine with us leaving her.

On the way to Sonic to pick up one last 32 ounce, iced water, my phone rang. Another woman was currently delivering a baby and they had to move me back "a few hours." The nurse told me that it might be closer to 11 pm before we were asked to come in.

I cried.

I had anticipated this moment and just wanted to be at the hospital, feeling like it was at least coming! Heath tried to make me feel better. I was just so disappointed that I would have to wait even longer. We went back to the house and thank goodness my sister came over to keep us company. It helped pass the time.

At 11 pm I called the hospital to see what was going on. The nurse told me to go ahead and come on in. I was ready and about to fall asleep. I couldn't even tell you the last time I had been up until 11 pm! A smart mommy-to-be would have taken a nap.

I arrived in good spirits. I filled out all of the appropriate paperwork, put my gown on, got weighed (under my goal weight - whoo-hoo!), and got my IV. Heath and my sister sat nearby, sleepily. I was finally ready to go around 1 am. Before giving me Cytotec to soften my cervix, the nurse checked my progress. I was certain that I had surpassed 2 cm, since I had been having a lot of Braxton-Hicks contractions all week. I was completely disappointed when she said that I was still at 2 cm. However, I was only 2 cm when I came to the hospital with Lucy. So, I was hopeful!

At this point I was already having Braxton-Hicks that were showing up on the contraction monitor. Dr. B had told me that the Cytotec might possibly be enough to send me into labor, especially since I was a second-time mother. That it did...

Just 20 minutes or so after getting it, my contractions became somewhat consistent. By 2 am I was having considerable contractions that were about 5 minutes apart and realized at that point that I would not be sleeping for the night. By 4 am, I was having to "breath" through them and couldn't talk. I was in pain.

When the nurse checked me again, I was certain that I would at least be at 3 cm or more. I was just holding on through those contractions, thinking that an epidural would be coming soon. She checked and I was still 2 cm. What?! I couldn't believe it. I teared up, trying not to be an emotional, sleepy mess. I couldn't believe that I wasn't making progress. The contractions continued.

I walked. I lunged. I did squats. I sat and bounced on a ball. I changed positions. I rocked in a rocking chair. All of this made the contractions stronger and hurt more. I had to be getting somewhere!

I was checked again right about the time the sun came back up. Still no progress. I was crushed. This time, the nurse couldn't even reach my cervix; it was obvious that Olive's head was no longer down. I felt that all of the "work" that my body was doing and the pain I was feeling was literally for nothing. It was so frustrating.

Dr. B came in around 7:15 am. She felt my stomach and checked me. No progress. She couldn't reach my cervix either. She told me that she thought Olive had flipped and was was breach. The nursing team brought in an ultrasound machine to make sure. Dr. B and another doctor both said it looked like she was breach. They called in an ultrasound tech to make sure. While we were waiting, she explained the c-section process to me. I had already come to terms with it. I was experiencing painful contractions and had been for about five hours. Dr. B explained that she didn't think I was progressing because the baby's head pushing down on my cervix is what causes dilation. Since her head wasn't engaged, I wasn't progressing.

I had rolled over while waiting for the tech. Apparently Olive took that opportunity to move again. By time the tech arrived, Olive was head down again. She still wasn't engaged; but, she was in the right direction. We were back on for a vaginal delivery. I admit it; I cried again. I was tired and not getting anywhere. I was heartbroken, thinking that I was going to have to endure the pain even longer and was scared that I still wouldn't have any progress. Dr. B was very supportive though and said we had to focus on getting Olive to move down. I knew that I preferred a vaginally birth, as did Heath; so, I sucked it up and decided to "push on."

The contractions continued as they decided to go ahead with the Pitocin. They thought that the Pitocin might make my uterus contract harder and push Olive down. It only made the contractions more frequent. The nurse checked me again before noon. I was prepared for her to say that there was still no progress. The pessimistic outlook made the news easier to swallow. My dad and step-mom showed up soon after and served as good distractions from the pain and disappointment of no progress.

At 4 pm, I looked at the clock. I had been having these painful contractions for over 12 hours now. I was exhausted. I felt like it was never going to end. The nurse checked me again - nothing. They couldn't break my water either, because Olive's head wasn't engaged. So, we couldn't take the risk of the umbilical cord coming out first. They just kept increasing the Pitocin.

Dr. B finally returned around 5:30 pm. We talked and she gave me the option of either a c-section or going home and trying another day. I was convinced that I would continue to have the contractions at home, on my own. I had been all night. Plus, I was not at all mentally prepared to experience this all again. I was in low, low spirits at this point. I agreed to the c-section. Dr. B asked several times if I was sure, since I had not wanted a c-section.

I was ready though. Ready, ready, ready. I was also exhausted. I was finally taken to the surgery room around 6:30 pm. Heath was taken to the prep room. Unfortunately my sister couldn't be in the room. I asked if she could be dressed and ready though, just in case Heath's Xanax didn't kick in. (He did great though.)

As soon as they took me off that damn Pitocin, I was doing much better! I was still having contractions; but, they were much farther apart. I was ready for my spinal and to meet my baby girl! I was actually smiling, knowing that the time had finally come!

 - To Be Continued -

38 Week Update

I come bearing pictures. Okay, picture.

Alright, alright. I can give you a few more. The last time you had a picture of just me was at 34 weeks; I've been slacking:

She's bigger and lower. But, I don't appear too much bigger than when I was pregnant with Lucy:

 

I am definitely lower though! Perhaps my butt is bigger too? I blame the shirt. Alright, enough of my huge photos...

How far along?

I am 38 weeks, 6 days, going on eternity! I swear I have been pregnant forever and I wish the risk of "going early" would have never been introduced to my psyche. I only have 31 hours before I check into the hospital! Only 30 hours before I leave for the hospital! I am going insane waiting...

Baby is the size of...

a leek? Again, no idea what that is. She is so strong and she seems pretty big, but I seriously do have a feeling that she is going to be about the same size as Lucy was, especially with the picture evidence I showed you above.  According to BabyCenter, she is approximately 20 inches long and anywhere between 7 and 8 lbs. We will soon see.

Symptoms:

I  have been pretty achy. My hips hurt pretty bad lately. I had a theory that it was related to my intake of water in the evening. I think I am still kind of right about it; however, not just my hips hurt anymore. My pelvis literally aches. I told Heath that from my boobs to my knees just aches sometimes. She is definitely taking a toll on my body! I think it's because she's so low and I stand/walk weird to compensate.

I still have the usual: swelling in my ankles and feet, leaky breasts, gassy, occasional nausea, headaches that come and go, and the crazy common Braxton-Hicks contractions.

This week though, I have added a sinus cold, thing. I am not sure if it is allergies (because I don't generally have allergies), or if it is pregnancy related. I read online that it can happen due to the increase in hormones late in pregnancy. Either way, I am stuffy. I wish it was running! It just stays in my head and causes me to sound weird and I can't breathe sometimes. Bah.

Anything New?
No! Nothing is new. I am going insane! Okay, so I'm a bit dramatic. Some of you ladies understand the feeling of the last weeks, right? I did have my doctor's appointment. I was almost 2 cm; Dr. B said she could call it 2 cm dilated. So, that is what I am going with. From zero to two? Sounds good to me. I better be more now, with all the Braxton-Hicks that I've been feeling. I look at it this way, two less centimeters that I don't have to contract through!

She didn't really mention if I was effaced or not; but, she did say that Olive's head was down. In fact, she poked Olive's head and Olive hated it! She moved like crazy and did quite the number on me. Dr. B also stripped my membranes. I have had a lot of people ask me what that means exactly. Well, here you go:

According to the first site listed on Google (something mommies.com), "Stripping membranes is a relatively simple procedure that can be performed in the doctor’s office and is usually performed during a routine exam. The doctor or midwife places their fingers into the opening of the cervix and attempts to gently separate the amniotic sac from the uterus."

We also did a stress test, with Olive hooked up to a monitor for about half an hour. She passed with flying colors. :)

New with Heath?
He is babying Lucy like mad. You can definitely tell that he is a first child and I'm a second. He is so concerned about Lucy with the transition. I am probably a bit more concerned about giving Olive the individualized attention that Lucy received as a baby.  I know that we will both have to meet in the middle. :) It's that odd balance that I have talked about in previous posts.

Lucy has been able to fall asleep in our bed the last two nights, "because they are the last few nights where it will just be the three of us," Heath says. He was really thrown off this morning when I said that this will be our last evening at home without Olive. I wish we had something planned...

New with Lucy?
Besides being spoiled by Heath, not much. Her world is about to be thrown through a loop. I don't think she knows what to expect or that it is even happening. We talk to her about Olive, but she has no sense of time. Overall, I really do think she will be alright through the transition. I think this because I know that with Lucy, Heath often felt like he couldn't take part since I was breast feeding. So, I think there will still be plenty of Heath and Lucy rolling around on the floor moments, while mommy holds Olive.

I really do think that Lucy will be excited to help out with Olive too. She loves to play with her baby dolls. I just need to get her some "real" diapers for her dolls and some other baby items that she can use on her babies, while I'm using them on Olive. :)

Anything else?
I better not complain anymore. I'm becoming quite the downer lately. I just can't wait. I try not to ever wish time away, so I'll have to do something more tonight than sit in front of the television...hmmm...any suggestions?