Yesterday was what I'm guessing to be 14dpo and I say guessing because my temps have been crazy this cycle and FF can't detect my ovulation date based on my temps. So I'm going off of my +OPK dates and history, being that generally my history shows my O date to be the second +OPK date. However, I did have what looks to be a big dip in temperatures about 4 days after that, but - OPK results. So basically this being my first medicated cycle I'm very confused. I had my P4 tested on what I guessed to be 8dpo and the results came back at 55.5 so I felt pretty confident in guessing correctly the O date. However, yesterday I took a HTP and it was a BFN, I would expect my period sometime today or tomorrow given that its CD 27 and I've never (in the history of charting the last 14 of my 17 cycles) had an LP longer than 15 days, so my period should start tomorrow. BUT absolutely no signs that my period is coming, other than the BFN yesterday, but then again I have no signs that I'm pregnant either.
Needless to say I'm so very confused. Of course Dr. Google has some things to say about high P4 numbers sometimes indicating a pregnancy and at the very least indicating that I released more than one egg. I tried my hardest not to let that get my hopes up, but most P4 numbers I read about where way lower than mine and the ones that were the same or higher were all from those taking progesterone. At this point, I'm thinking I was wrong about my O date, which would make me think maybe we are still in the game, but we didn't BD that much this month because IG got a nasty stomach bug from Q that lasted for a few days and so I think we missed our window. Can you tell I'm driving myself crazy????
There was no question about the BFN it was stark white. And I'm disappointed in myself for breaking down and buying a test, but I had no signs that AF was coming and my temps were staying pretty high (except today they dropped a bit) so I let myself hope. And I'm mad at myself for hoping. I feel stupid for thinking that I could possibly be pregnant. That high P4 numbers was an indicator of anything other than the fact that I'm ovulating which has never been the problem. I'm ovulating, my egg quality is good, IG has lots of sperm and they move just fine, but this goal feels impossible. Right now on this day it feels like I will never be pregnant again and I'm so pissed and sad and frustrated. The longer it takes the more I think about how I didn't want so many years between Q and a sibling and it's so frustrating that it's out of my control. And to top it off I found out last week that another friend of mine is pregnant, became that way without trying very hard and it's so unfair. And I hate that I can't even congratulate her. I can't muster it or face it or feel it. So I avoid it and deny it and bury it and hate it.
I read a lot of things that talk about how unfair infertility is, but nothing can do this feeling justice. It doesn't make any sense. There are no obvious physical reasons why we can't get pregnant and I hate that my life is just stuck in this pattern of going in circles. I hate that I focus so much time and energy on this when there is Q. I hate that every month I have to ride this roller coaster of emotions that never goes anywhere. I hate that I feel like a failure and that I don't trust my body anymore. I hate that I hate thinking about the future and being scared to make plans because I don't know what point in a cycle we will be in. I hate thinking that I will never know what it's like to be pregnant again or to hold my baby in my arms. I hate that we have a house full of empty rooms and a car that's way to big for a family of three. I hate that we bought them because we fully expected to fill them and I hate that we can't make that happen. I hate that there is no timeline or end in sight. I hate that I feel hopeless. And I hate that I don't know how to control it anymore. I don't understand the journey, I don't understand the lesson, I don't understand.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Playing The Baby Lottery
Today is day 7 of cycle 17 and my first cycle on clomid. Today was my fifth and last day of 50mg a day of clomid. This was prescribed by my RE and there is no monitoring this cycle so just clomid and TI (timed intercourse). The RE's nurse suggested that we have sex starting today through day 18....that is way more sex then either of us can handle at this point. I mean that is the amount of sex we had when we first met each other and while it was fun and exciting and new it was also exhausting, really really exhausting. Now let's add our increased responsibilities, our toddler into the mix and really who wants to have sex for 11 days straight - I don't have enough creative energy left in me to make that desirable. Maybe on vacation, maybe without the toddler or the requirement to be up at 6:30am every.single.day or the the ever present thought in the back of our heads that we are only have sex because someone else told us we should and if we don't, if we miss just one day then maybe we've screwed ourselves for a whole other month. Sounds awesome, right? And I have this, probably irrational but maybe substantial, thought that if the sex isn't good then we have no hope in this crazy baby lottery that we play every month. This is not to say that I don't find sex with my husband enjoyable - it's always enjoyable, but sometimes it's just hurry up and let me get to sleep enjoyable or don't kiss me I already have my retainer in enjoyable. We are not a couple that has sex every day and after Q was born sometimes we weren't even having sex every week. But we have moments - really good, incredible moments - so the potential for amazing sex is always there and in my head I'm convinced that it takes one of those moments to create a baby. It would have to be an amazing moment to win the baby lottery, just like it would have to be an amazing moment to win the money lottery. But 11 days of amazing moments just isn't going to happen.
Like every cycle I've spent the days of my period in a gray cloud of sadness. Walking daily through thoughts of never ending disappointment fogging my everyday life. I think this time around was a little more sever then usual, probably thanks to the clomid. It's not anything clinical, but it is a sadness that follows me around for days, where I think this will never happen for us and I hate every pregnant person and secretly judge them and their abilities to be a good parent. But just like every other cycle once my period ends the cloud slowly starts to recede and I feel a bit hopeful again. Infertility certainly is a roller coaster of emotions and for those of us with shorter cycles it's a very fast and bumpy ride. I get my period every three weeks so a fourth of my time I feel defeated and lonely and desperate, but three fourths of the time I feel hope and excitement. I fantasize about what it will feel like when my numbers finally hit and I win the lottery. I think about how it will not only change my life, but the life of my entire (extended) family and how they will feel. Especially now that we've come "out" so to speak about our struggles to conceive. It's an excitement that I feel in the pit of my stomach and it bubbles up and out through all of my extremities. It's a feeling that makes it hard to sit still, hard to work, hard to think of anything other than what it will feel like to be pregnant and to eventually hold that new tiny life. I can feel the joy in every ounce of my being, with the realization that my fantasized feelings are only a fraction of what it will actually feel like. What I do know is that it will be an amazing feeling, but until that point I continue to ride the infertility ride.
So five days of clomid this cycle - my side effects weren't really that bad. Slight head ache in the evenings and a bit of trouble sleeping the last few days, potentially lower lows during my period, but nothing to really complain about. Fingers crossed that clomid is just the lucky charm we need to hit the jackpot this month.
Like every cycle I've spent the days of my period in a gray cloud of sadness. Walking daily through thoughts of never ending disappointment fogging my everyday life. I think this time around was a little more sever then usual, probably thanks to the clomid. It's not anything clinical, but it is a sadness that follows me around for days, where I think this will never happen for us and I hate every pregnant person and secretly judge them and their abilities to be a good parent. But just like every other cycle once my period ends the cloud slowly starts to recede and I feel a bit hopeful again. Infertility certainly is a roller coaster of emotions and for those of us with shorter cycles it's a very fast and bumpy ride. I get my period every three weeks so a fourth of my time I feel defeated and lonely and desperate, but three fourths of the time I feel hope and excitement. I fantasize about what it will feel like when my numbers finally hit and I win the lottery. I think about how it will not only change my life, but the life of my entire (extended) family and how they will feel. Especially now that we've come "out" so to speak about our struggles to conceive. It's an excitement that I feel in the pit of my stomach and it bubbles up and out through all of my extremities. It's a feeling that makes it hard to sit still, hard to work, hard to think of anything other than what it will feel like to be pregnant and to eventually hold that new tiny life. I can feel the joy in every ounce of my being, with the realization that my fantasized feelings are only a fraction of what it will actually feel like. What I do know is that it will be an amazing feeling, but until that point I continue to ride the infertility ride.
So five days of clomid this cycle - my side effects weren't really that bad. Slight head ache in the evenings and a bit of trouble sleeping the last few days, potentially lower lows during my period, but nothing to really complain about. Fingers crossed that clomid is just the lucky charm we need to hit the jackpot this month.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Still Here
And still not pregnant. Currently in the two week wait of my 3rd month since seeing the RE, this is the amount of time we agreed that I would continue to try naturally before moving on to taking to Clomid. Have no faith or thought that this month will be any different then the past 15, so fully expecting to be calling the RE in the near future for the first round of Clomid. Started this cycle on vacation so I'm not tracking at all, which has been kind of nice, no temps, no OPKs, no nothing - so I have no idea, outside of physical signs of ovulation, if we had good timing or not. Have no idea when my period is supposed to begin - guess it'll just be a nice little surprise.
In other news I've been tracking what we've spent so far. After battles with the insurance company I have managed to get some of the tests/consultations covered so this is lower then it could've been, but already not cheap and we haven't even done anything expensive yet:
In other news I've been tracking what we've spent so far. After battles with the insurance company I have managed to get some of the tests/consultations covered so this is lower then it could've been, but already not cheap and we haven't even done anything expensive yet:
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Tuesday, August 20, 2013
So what's the problem...
I haven't been here in a while. Honestly I've just been exhausted. On top of all this we've been super busy the past few weeks with going to my parents, planning and having Q's birthday party and getting ready to leave for vacation (this weekend yay!!). And then my boss was out for a few weeks so things at work where super busy, plus I have to make a day trip to one of our delivery centers this week so I'm extra stressed about having the time to get everything ready for vacation. Within all that I did get my CD3 testing done about a month ago at this point and everything came back.....wait for it.......normal, sigh. I know most people would be relieved to find out that everything is fine, I mean we aren't even borderline on anything we are well within range for everything, but the no explanation is really hard for me. The nurse, when she called me, told me again that she was optimistic that I would get pregnant on my own. I wish I could believe her. My period is supposed to start this weekend and my temps have been dropping over the last few days so it looks like it's going to happen. We booked our vacation in March and I never imagined that I would NOT be pregnant on vacation. At the time I couldn't even wrap my mind around the fact that I would be sitting here all these cycles later without a pregnancy.
The plan for now is to try one more month natural and then move onto clomid for my mid-September cycle, if I'm not pregnant. Because my cycles are on the shorter side I should ovulate twice in September - during the first and last weeks. I'm just really praying for a summer baby, I would be so overjoyed if I could get pregnant this fall. Outside of that plan I've also started back with yoga and upped my exercise to 3 times a week from 2. Although that'll likely change as we move into Fall and Q starts swim lessons and soccer and we get generally busier. I love being able to practice yoga again. I've been doing a hot yoga class every Friday morning and it's no joke, it's really hard and my muscles definitely need to build up a bit, but I love it. It just relaxes me and centers me and calms and I feel like I can release the whole week and prepare for a new one. I wish I could go more than once a week, but just haven't been able to find it in the schedule yet. I've also started listening to some fertility meditations that I found online. My goal for this next cycle is try and listen to one every day. I don't think there can be anything bad about focusing my thoughts and love and energy into the child that I'm trying to create and anything that helps keep me calm is always a good thing. I haven't tried acupuncture yet - I would love to try it, but I'm hesitant because of the money and trying to find time in my schedule.
I've also recently been embattled with the insurance company over my fertility coverage. This has been super stressful and honestly way more difficult that it should be. I honestly believe that they make it so hard that a person would just give up and stop fighting to correct an incorrect claim, but not me. I had to fight them for three weeks to cover my appointment with the RE as 'in-network' therefore, completing my deductible requirement and moving my coverage amount up from 60% to 85%. Let me tell you it was a battle, but it was well worth it and I'm anticipating having to fight with them this entire time because this was so difficult.
So with all that I'm just ready for my cycle to re-start and to keep moving forward. Sucks that it's going to happen next week while we're on vacation, but at least I know I can drink!
In other life related news we celebrated Q's birthday this past weekend. It's a few weeks early, but we planned it that way as we are on vacation for the next two Saturdays. It was a lot of fun, but pretty exhausting. My entire in-law family came and stayed at our house for the weekend. So from Friday to Sunday we 8 additional people and 1 additional dog in the house. It was a lot of people to cook for, keep entertained and clean up after, but it was great to get see everyone as it only really happens with IG's family once or twice a year. Q had a great time celebrating his birthday. He's been talking about it for months and was over the moon when his yellow birthday party was finally upon us.
This post is kind of mash of everything that is happening, but I guess it's fitting. We are dealing with infertility, but we keep moving forward, we celebrate birthdays and visit with family and plan and take vacations and look ahead because there is no point in looking back.
I'll leave you with a picture of Q from this weekend, which pretty accurately captures his pure birthday party joy.
The plan for now is to try one more month natural and then move onto clomid for my mid-September cycle, if I'm not pregnant. Because my cycles are on the shorter side I should ovulate twice in September - during the first and last weeks. I'm just really praying for a summer baby, I would be so overjoyed if I could get pregnant this fall. Outside of that plan I've also started back with yoga and upped my exercise to 3 times a week from 2. Although that'll likely change as we move into Fall and Q starts swim lessons and soccer and we get generally busier. I love being able to practice yoga again. I've been doing a hot yoga class every Friday morning and it's no joke, it's really hard and my muscles definitely need to build up a bit, but I love it. It just relaxes me and centers me and calms and I feel like I can release the whole week and prepare for a new one. I wish I could go more than once a week, but just haven't been able to find it in the schedule yet. I've also started listening to some fertility meditations that I found online. My goal for this next cycle is try and listen to one every day. I don't think there can be anything bad about focusing my thoughts and love and energy into the child that I'm trying to create and anything that helps keep me calm is always a good thing. I haven't tried acupuncture yet - I would love to try it, but I'm hesitant because of the money and trying to find time in my schedule.
I've also recently been embattled with the insurance company over my fertility coverage. This has been super stressful and honestly way more difficult that it should be. I honestly believe that they make it so hard that a person would just give up and stop fighting to correct an incorrect claim, but not me. I had to fight them for three weeks to cover my appointment with the RE as 'in-network' therefore, completing my deductible requirement and moving my coverage amount up from 60% to 85%. Let me tell you it was a battle, but it was well worth it and I'm anticipating having to fight with them this entire time because this was so difficult.
So with all that I'm just ready for my cycle to re-start and to keep moving forward. Sucks that it's going to happen next week while we're on vacation, but at least I know I can drink!
In other life related news we celebrated Q's birthday this past weekend. It's a few weeks early, but we planned it that way as we are on vacation for the next two Saturdays. It was a lot of fun, but pretty exhausting. My entire in-law family came and stayed at our house for the weekend. So from Friday to Sunday we 8 additional people and 1 additional dog in the house. It was a lot of people to cook for, keep entertained and clean up after, but it was great to get see everyone as it only really happens with IG's family once or twice a year. Q had a great time celebrating his birthday. He's been talking about it for months and was over the moon when his yellow birthday party was finally upon us.
This post is kind of mash of everything that is happening, but I guess it's fitting. We are dealing with infertility, but we keep moving forward, we celebrate birthdays and visit with family and plan and take vacations and look ahead because there is no point in looking back.
I'll leave you with a picture of Q from this weekend, which pretty accurately captures his pure birthday party joy.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Bad Days/Good Days
Every cycle has a lot of ups and downs and this one feels like a lot of downs. I'm just getting started on my journey, all though I've been at it for a year, and I feel exhausted already. I keep looking back to missed opportunities, I keep spinning my thoughts on what's wrong. Every cycle I hit a point where I feel like I will never be pregnant again, period. No further text needed. And it leaves me feeling sad and empty and then guilty because I feel like I'm focusing all my energy on this one thing and I do have this beautiful wonderful boy in my life. Am I supposed to be just satisfied with him? I don't know. Am I supposed to be learning a lesson here? If so I'm desperate to find out what it is... acceptance, patience, persistence, faith, hope?!?!
I know other people on this journey feel this same way, like it'll never happen. In the beginning I fantasized about what it would feel like to see those two pink lines, how I would tell my friends and family, what time of year it would be when the baby was born, when I would take my maternity leave and what I would do. I even fantasized about seeing Q hold his little bother or sister, visiting us in the hospital. Every cycle I lose another little piece of that picture. Staring cycle 16 in the face I can't imagine seeing two pink lines and then I think am I shooting myself in the foot by thinking it won't happen. You get back what you put out and I try every day to put out there the hope that I will be pregnant again, but every day that's harder and harder to do. What could possibly have changed in my body over these past 3 years that is making this so difficult. I literally got pregnant the first time in my life that I had sex without protection while not on birth control. That experience scared me into believing that I was so fertile that I would refuse to have sex with IG without a condom even in situations where I wanted it so bad I was almost crazed. I look back now and I wish I wouldn't have cared, because what if one of those times was supposed to be the time and I stopped it. I wasn't ready to be pregnant with Q when that happened, but it is the best thing that ever happened in my life. I know logically it's a waste of time to look back because there is nothing that can be done about that, but it's so hard not to analyze ever aspect of the last 2 years. It's hard not to think why did I wait so long to try again and why didn't I just let the passion take over and let whatever was to be to be instead of trying to control the situation. Because now I can't un-control the situation. I can't un-know all the details of my cycle, I can't un-think about what's happening during a two week wait, I can't stop from trying to feel any physical sign of pregnancy and I wish I could. I wish I didn't have to think so hard about when and how to have sex with my husband. I wish I could just let it all go and stop paying attention and let what is to be to be. But I can't.
I had my blood draw for CD3 testing done yesterday and am waiting to hear back from the Dr. The lab said they would send over the results by the end of the day (yesterday) so I'm expecting a call hopefully today or tomorrow. I'm anxiously awaiting the results - hoping that there will be something there that will give a sign as to why we are struggling, but hoping that everything is fine. It's a weird feeling wanting something to be wrong and not wrong at the same time.
How does one let go and not give up at the same time? I want to let go, I want to give back the energy and time to my son that he has lost to this, even though he's not aware. And I want to keep focused on the ultimate outcome of growing our family. This week, this day, this cycle I am struggling and I feel stuck. It's like what they say about being insane, doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome each time. Am I insane for continuing to believe that we will have another baby?
I know other people on this journey feel this same way, like it'll never happen. In the beginning I fantasized about what it would feel like to see those two pink lines, how I would tell my friends and family, what time of year it would be when the baby was born, when I would take my maternity leave and what I would do. I even fantasized about seeing Q hold his little bother or sister, visiting us in the hospital. Every cycle I lose another little piece of that picture. Staring cycle 16 in the face I can't imagine seeing two pink lines and then I think am I shooting myself in the foot by thinking it won't happen. You get back what you put out and I try every day to put out there the hope that I will be pregnant again, but every day that's harder and harder to do. What could possibly have changed in my body over these past 3 years that is making this so difficult. I literally got pregnant the first time in my life that I had sex without protection while not on birth control. That experience scared me into believing that I was so fertile that I would refuse to have sex with IG without a condom even in situations where I wanted it so bad I was almost crazed. I look back now and I wish I wouldn't have cared, because what if one of those times was supposed to be the time and I stopped it. I wasn't ready to be pregnant with Q when that happened, but it is the best thing that ever happened in my life. I know logically it's a waste of time to look back because there is nothing that can be done about that, but it's so hard not to analyze ever aspect of the last 2 years. It's hard not to think why did I wait so long to try again and why didn't I just let the passion take over and let whatever was to be to be instead of trying to control the situation. Because now I can't un-control the situation. I can't un-know all the details of my cycle, I can't un-think about what's happening during a two week wait, I can't stop from trying to feel any physical sign of pregnancy and I wish I could. I wish I didn't have to think so hard about when and how to have sex with my husband. I wish I could just let it all go and stop paying attention and let what is to be to be. But I can't.
I had my blood draw for CD3 testing done yesterday and am waiting to hear back from the Dr. The lab said they would send over the results by the end of the day (yesterday) so I'm expecting a call hopefully today or tomorrow. I'm anxiously awaiting the results - hoping that there will be something there that will give a sign as to why we are struggling, but hoping that everything is fine. It's a weird feeling wanting something to be wrong and not wrong at the same time.
How does one let go and not give up at the same time? I want to let go, I want to give back the energy and time to my son that he has lost to this, even though he's not aware. And I want to keep focused on the ultimate outcome of growing our family. This week, this day, this cycle I am struggling and I feel stuck. It's like what they say about being insane, doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome each time. Am I insane for continuing to believe that we will have another baby?
Thursday, July 25, 2013
As Made Famous by Mario: Here We Go Again
At this point I'm 98% sure that my period is going to start. I always hate the 2nd week of the 2WW because I'm obsessively analyzing every potential symptom and I always convince myself that I have no symptoms at all. With that I was sad yesterday and I feel sad today. I just can't wrap my mind around whats so different this time. Why is my body so different this time, what have I done differently? I just don't understand it and it makes it so hard for me. If I could just have some clear reasoning I would be better able to cope with this, but I almost feel like I'm being punished and I'm desperately trying to find out why. So basically I'm having a bad couple of days and I hate when I start to feel like this and then I just feel like it's never going to happen. I do always feel this way at the start of cycle and then by the time we get to the FW I feel hope again. I know this is the pattern I follow every time, but it doesn't make it any easier each time a cycle ends. Now I'm just waiting for AF to show up and hoping that it happens tomorrow or Saturday so that I can time my CD3 bloodwork nicely with my schedule. And I have an overwhelming feeling that all of that is going to turn out normal and we will still be left standing in the dark with not a single light to show us the way.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Royal Baby Craze and My Labor Story
Little baby Cambridge is finally here after a month long contraction watch and I have to admit that I've been anxiously following Kate's progress, delivery and hospital discharge. I did in fact just watch live streaming video of the new Royal family exiting the hospital and making their first appearance. I feel oddly invested in this baby, maybe because the entire length of her pregnancy and beyond I have been trying to become pregnant myself. I know that I am just one of millions of people fascinated with this baby, but it's not like me to be this invested that I would sit and watch live video streams at work so that I could see them leave the hospital for the first time. It makes me nostalgic about my own labor and delivery and it makes me yernful to do it again. I feel a sense of connection because I too experienced labor and gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby boy. Although I don't know, nor could I ever imagine what it would be like to give birth with millions of people waiting and watching. Or stepping out 24 hours after giving birth and greeting a throng of photographers and reporters. I could barely shower 24 hours after delivery, let alone do my hair or put on make-up (to be sure these things were done for Kate).
Q's labor, for the most part, was fairly easy. His due date was September 3 and being that both my brother and I came two weeks early I was ready for him to arrive in mid-August. He had other plans, namely to show up on the date appointed to him, which looking back now fits his personality perfectly - that's the date that was chosen and it cannot be any other date. It's funny to think that little things like that could take shape in our personalities, but I digress. On September 2 I was starting to feel like the baby was never going to come, I was actually starting to get down about it. I desperately did not want to be induced and I was so worried that was going to happen. I should have known better because 3 days prior I had my 39 week appointment in which I had my first internal exam (I had been refusing them since 36 weeks when the Dr's office wanted to start - I didn't see the point) and I was 3cm dilated already. I had also started to grow increasingly uncomfortable, but was still talking walks every day and still sleeping without too much interruption. On this particular day I went for long with my mom - in crocs and socks I might add, ate cuban for lunch and ran a bunch of errands. One of which included getting IG a new iPhone and it was there in the AT&T store that I felt my first real contraction. We came home and my mom started making dinner while I sat on the yoga ball quietly timing my contractions. I hadn't yet said anything because I wasn't ready for all the commotion to start with IG or my mom. Finally, after IG had spent the better part of an hour trying to set up his new phone I told him he better get it set up because he would need it that night. This was at about 7:30, so we started timing my contractions ate dinner, I took a shower, did my hair, put on make-up (yes I was one of those women who wanted to be put together to be taken apart by delivery) and continued to labor at the house. Finally around 11:30 or so I called the Dr when my contractions where about 3 minutes apart. I thought I wasn't really that far along because, although painful, the contractions weren't incapacitatingly painful, they weren't lasting more than a minute and I'd only really been in labor for 4 hours (or so I thought, I know better now and had been in early labor for awhile, just didn't realize it because to me it wasn't that painful).
On the way to the hospital my contractions slowed down considerably. To the point where they were creeping closer to 10 minutes apart. I thought crap I'm going to get to the hospital and they are going to turn me away because I'm not far enough along (again being 3cm was enough to be admitted so I don't know what my crazy brain was getting at - it's not like I could un-dilate at that point). Looking back now I believe it was the sitting still that slowed the contractions. At the house I was on the ball or on all fours or leaning against the wall. Basically letting my body take the lead to tell me what would help alleviate and motivate the labor process and my body knew what to do. We get to the hospital and of course had to fill out a ton of paperwork even with pre-registration. The person in admin treated me like a non-laboring person, like I was walking in there at just the start of labor, even though at this point I obviously couldn't sit comfortably through a contraction. The hospital where I gave birth requires a laboring mother to go to triage first to be examined prior to admissions to make sure they are progressed enough. So back to triage we go and I'm asked to change into the hospital gown. I start to have a ginormous desire to pee so I ask the nurse if it's ok, she says yes and that she'll be back in a minute. So I pee and then ask IG to take one last picture of the belly (we had been doing weekly belly pictures and this one would be week 40). The nurse happens to walk back in while we are taking the picture and then never returns. She must have thought that I wasn't that far along if we could still be standing and taking posed pictures. At this point my contractions where growing more and more uncomfortable so finally I ask IG to go get the nurse - who happened to be just standing at the nurses station chatting it up. She comes in and hooks me up to the monitors and what not and asks me on a scale of 1-10 what my pain level was, to which I replied 5 or 6. I mean it was painful, but it wasn't like kill me now painful. The nurse proceeds to do an internal exam and a look of shock over takes her face. I immediately start to cry because I think something is wrong, but she turns to us and says "you are 8cm dilated and I really thought you would only be at like a 5" and then she says "I hate to see what a 10 on the pain scale is for you". Too bad she wasn't present during delivery because she would've seen it.
We are immediately admitted and moved over to the labor and delivery room which is across the hall on the other side of the nurses station. They tried to get me into a wheelchair, but I insisted on walking. At this point it's roughly 12:30am on Q's due date. The labor and delivery nurses get me set up, botch my IV - it was a nurse in training or a new nurse, but anyways she couldn't get it in and it ended up falling out during delivery anyways. They had me sign some forms and told me it was too late for an epidural, which I told them was fine as I didn't want one anyways. The head nurse starts to tell me about her own 12 week old baby and how this is her first night back at work. She then checks me and I'm at 9cm - in a matter of 30mins. At this point they start to frantically prepare the room because they think the baby is coming and coming fast. I remember the nurse telling me next time not to wait so long to go the hospital as I might end up having the baby in the car - but the point was to labor as much as possible at home because I didn't want to be confined to a bed and I didn't want it to slow down my labor. Which is exactly what it did. I made it to 9.5cm and then nearly fully dilated but a lip of cervix on my right side would not move out of the way. My water never broke naturally and after about an hour and a half in the labor and delivery room the Dr decided to break my water at which point my contractions started coming back to back. I was crying, I was hot, I was nauseous and gagging, I felt like I had to pee and I felt like I wanted it over. I was ready for it to be done. It was painful to lay there, it was painful to move, it was painful to stand or to be examined and I was getting no breaks between contractions. I was crying, my mom was crying and IG was at a total loss but trying to coach me none the less. Finally about 2 and half hours after moving into labor and delivery I was ready to push. And think about this I went from 0/3cm to 9.5cm in roughly 4 hours and that last half a cm, that right side of my cervix took 2 and half hours and the thing that changed the most was being confined, not being able to move how and where I instinctively wanted too. The pushing process starts and the Dr is called I can feel the head moving up and down and as the Dr is getting dressed I get hit with a hard contraction. I look at the nurse and tell her I want to push, but that if I push the baby will come out, she says no its fine push and I say no I'm telling you if I push that baby is going to come out and she tells me again its fine go ahead and push. So I push. And the baby comes out. And the Dr has to catch him with one hand because she's not ready. And the force of the push leaves me the a 3rd degree tear. I would say a little more coaching and little more listening would've been nice, but a first time mother is never seen as the expert in a delivery room. Which is a shame. I see Q for the first time and I'm crying and I say how much he looks like IG and then I say he's so hairy! His little back was covered in tiny black hairs. They take him away to weigh, measure and do apgars. IG and my mom make phone calls and hold him and take pictures. And it takes the Dr 45 minutes to repair my tear, in which she was not able to fully numb me so I can feel half the stitches and nearly half the repairs. The Dr and two nurses are working to repair the damage, apparently needing to push my uterus back up and out of the way. The Dr firmly tells me twice that if I cannot hold still she will have to knock me out and take me to surgery. I'm gripping the handle bars and trying my best to stay still but 1. I just pushed a nearly 8 pound baby out, 2. I have not been given any pain medication and 3. you have not fully numbed the area how you would like me to stitch your private parts without numbing them first!!!!! Ok that's what I wanted to say but I bit my lip, tightened my grip and was determined not to have miss these moments with my new son. I have always said that my after delivery was much worse then the actual delivery. The after part is what turns my stomach when I think about it because of the pain. But that experience brought me Q and he was perfect and tiny, not a wrinkle on his face. He latched on right away and snuggled up right under my chin (a thing he still does to this day) and I kissed his lips and held onto my miracle.
I plan to do my next labor (whenever that might be) natural without medication as well. I am certain it helped with successful nursing and lead to a speedy recover for both Q and myself. It helped my body bounce back quickly. I could do without the life threatening tear, but if that's what it would take to bring another little miracle into this world I would fight through that as well. I will likely give birth again in a hospital although I'd like one that has water birth capabilities. I would love to do a water birth. They say you forget about the pain of labor and delivery in order to have another baby and it's so true. I know it was painful and for months after I couldn't imagine doing it that way every again, but now nearly 3 years later I know I made the right decision and that I would do that way again. These 3 years have washed away the memory of the pain and have replaced it with the memory of the miracle. That's what I long for as I eagerly watch all the coverage of little baby Cambridge, the little tiny miracle that comes from the amazing, life changing experience of labor and delivery.
Q's labor, for the most part, was fairly easy. His due date was September 3 and being that both my brother and I came two weeks early I was ready for him to arrive in mid-August. He had other plans, namely to show up on the date appointed to him, which looking back now fits his personality perfectly - that's the date that was chosen and it cannot be any other date. It's funny to think that little things like that could take shape in our personalities, but I digress. On September 2 I was starting to feel like the baby was never going to come, I was actually starting to get down about it. I desperately did not want to be induced and I was so worried that was going to happen. I should have known better because 3 days prior I had my 39 week appointment in which I had my first internal exam (I had been refusing them since 36 weeks when the Dr's office wanted to start - I didn't see the point) and I was 3cm dilated already. I had also started to grow increasingly uncomfortable, but was still talking walks every day and still sleeping without too much interruption. On this particular day I went for long with my mom - in crocs and socks I might add, ate cuban for lunch and ran a bunch of errands. One of which included getting IG a new iPhone and it was there in the AT&T store that I felt my first real contraction. We came home and my mom started making dinner while I sat on the yoga ball quietly timing my contractions. I hadn't yet said anything because I wasn't ready for all the commotion to start with IG or my mom. Finally, after IG had spent the better part of an hour trying to set up his new phone I told him he better get it set up because he would need it that night. This was at about 7:30, so we started timing my contractions ate dinner, I took a shower, did my hair, put on make-up (yes I was one of those women who wanted to be put together to be taken apart by delivery) and continued to labor at the house. Finally around 11:30 or so I called the Dr when my contractions where about 3 minutes apart. I thought I wasn't really that far along because, although painful, the contractions weren't incapacitatingly painful, they weren't lasting more than a minute and I'd only really been in labor for 4 hours (or so I thought, I know better now and had been in early labor for awhile, just didn't realize it because to me it wasn't that painful).
On the way to the hospital my contractions slowed down considerably. To the point where they were creeping closer to 10 minutes apart. I thought crap I'm going to get to the hospital and they are going to turn me away because I'm not far enough along (again being 3cm was enough to be admitted so I don't know what my crazy brain was getting at - it's not like I could un-dilate at that point). Looking back now I believe it was the sitting still that slowed the contractions. At the house I was on the ball or on all fours or leaning against the wall. Basically letting my body take the lead to tell me what would help alleviate and motivate the labor process and my body knew what to do. We get to the hospital and of course had to fill out a ton of paperwork even with pre-registration. The person in admin treated me like a non-laboring person, like I was walking in there at just the start of labor, even though at this point I obviously couldn't sit comfortably through a contraction. The hospital where I gave birth requires a laboring mother to go to triage first to be examined prior to admissions to make sure they are progressed enough. So back to triage we go and I'm asked to change into the hospital gown. I start to have a ginormous desire to pee so I ask the nurse if it's ok, she says yes and that she'll be back in a minute. So I pee and then ask IG to take one last picture of the belly (we had been doing weekly belly pictures and this one would be week 40). The nurse happens to walk back in while we are taking the picture and then never returns. She must have thought that I wasn't that far along if we could still be standing and taking posed pictures. At this point my contractions where growing more and more uncomfortable so finally I ask IG to go get the nurse - who happened to be just standing at the nurses station chatting it up. She comes in and hooks me up to the monitors and what not and asks me on a scale of 1-10 what my pain level was, to which I replied 5 or 6. I mean it was painful, but it wasn't like kill me now painful. The nurse proceeds to do an internal exam and a look of shock over takes her face. I immediately start to cry because I think something is wrong, but she turns to us and says "you are 8cm dilated and I really thought you would only be at like a 5" and then she says "I hate to see what a 10 on the pain scale is for you". Too bad she wasn't present during delivery because she would've seen it.
We are immediately admitted and moved over to the labor and delivery room which is across the hall on the other side of the nurses station. They tried to get me into a wheelchair, but I insisted on walking. At this point it's roughly 12:30am on Q's due date. The labor and delivery nurses get me set up, botch my IV - it was a nurse in training or a new nurse, but anyways she couldn't get it in and it ended up falling out during delivery anyways. They had me sign some forms and told me it was too late for an epidural, which I told them was fine as I didn't want one anyways. The head nurse starts to tell me about her own 12 week old baby and how this is her first night back at work. She then checks me and I'm at 9cm - in a matter of 30mins. At this point they start to frantically prepare the room because they think the baby is coming and coming fast. I remember the nurse telling me next time not to wait so long to go the hospital as I might end up having the baby in the car - but the point was to labor as much as possible at home because I didn't want to be confined to a bed and I didn't want it to slow down my labor. Which is exactly what it did. I made it to 9.5cm and then nearly fully dilated but a lip of cervix on my right side would not move out of the way. My water never broke naturally and after about an hour and a half in the labor and delivery room the Dr decided to break my water at which point my contractions started coming back to back. I was crying, I was hot, I was nauseous and gagging, I felt like I had to pee and I felt like I wanted it over. I was ready for it to be done. It was painful to lay there, it was painful to move, it was painful to stand or to be examined and I was getting no breaks between contractions. I was crying, my mom was crying and IG was at a total loss but trying to coach me none the less. Finally about 2 and half hours after moving into labor and delivery I was ready to push. And think about this I went from 0/3cm to 9.5cm in roughly 4 hours and that last half a cm, that right side of my cervix took 2 and half hours and the thing that changed the most was being confined, not being able to move how and where I instinctively wanted too. The pushing process starts and the Dr is called I can feel the head moving up and down and as the Dr is getting dressed I get hit with a hard contraction. I look at the nurse and tell her I want to push, but that if I push the baby will come out, she says no its fine push and I say no I'm telling you if I push that baby is going to come out and she tells me again its fine go ahead and push. So I push. And the baby comes out. And the Dr has to catch him with one hand because she's not ready. And the force of the push leaves me the a 3rd degree tear. I would say a little more coaching and little more listening would've been nice, but a first time mother is never seen as the expert in a delivery room. Which is a shame. I see Q for the first time and I'm crying and I say how much he looks like IG and then I say he's so hairy! His little back was covered in tiny black hairs. They take him away to weigh, measure and do apgars. IG and my mom make phone calls and hold him and take pictures. And it takes the Dr 45 minutes to repair my tear, in which she was not able to fully numb me so I can feel half the stitches and nearly half the repairs. The Dr and two nurses are working to repair the damage, apparently needing to push my uterus back up and out of the way. The Dr firmly tells me twice that if I cannot hold still she will have to knock me out and take me to surgery. I'm gripping the handle bars and trying my best to stay still but 1. I just pushed a nearly 8 pound baby out, 2. I have not been given any pain medication and 3. you have not fully numbed the area how you would like me to stitch your private parts without numbing them first!!!!! Ok that's what I wanted to say but I bit my lip, tightened my grip and was determined not to have miss these moments with my new son. I have always said that my after delivery was much worse then the actual delivery. The after part is what turns my stomach when I think about it because of the pain. But that experience brought me Q and he was perfect and tiny, not a wrinkle on his face. He latched on right away and snuggled up right under my chin (a thing he still does to this day) and I kissed his lips and held onto my miracle.
I plan to do my next labor (whenever that might be) natural without medication as well. I am certain it helped with successful nursing and lead to a speedy recover for both Q and myself. It helped my body bounce back quickly. I could do without the life threatening tear, but if that's what it would take to bring another little miracle into this world I would fight through that as well. I will likely give birth again in a hospital although I'd like one that has water birth capabilities. I would love to do a water birth. They say you forget about the pain of labor and delivery in order to have another baby and it's so true. I know it was painful and for months after I couldn't imagine doing it that way every again, but now nearly 3 years later I know I made the right decision and that I would do that way again. These 3 years have washed away the memory of the pain and have replaced it with the memory of the miracle. That's what I long for as I eagerly watch all the coverage of little baby Cambridge, the little tiny miracle that comes from the amazing, life changing experience of labor and delivery.
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