Thursday, January 17, 2013

When it rains, it pours. (T-Rex's Birth Story, Part I)

T-Rex was due November 12, but showed no interest in leaving. The doctor was concerned that he was starting to get too big and wanted to try and get things moving so a C-section would be less likely. We were scheduled to be induced on Wednesday, November 14 at 7:30 in the evening. Here's that story.

When Laura of the Hollywood Housewife announced her Day in the Life challenge for November 14, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to photodocument the last day of our lives before T-Rex came along. You know. This is what the house looked like, where Mommy and Daddy worked at the time, what the weather was like and what we ate and wore.

So it started out great. I did a little photo tour of the house, photographed the dogs and the rabbit and the DDH dressed for work. I'll spare you all the boring photo details (though if you're curious about the famous yellow plaid wallpaper, check it out on Instagram, where I'm @ktindeed).

Anyway. Then, on my way to work, a big SUV tried to cross the four-lane road on which I was traveling. She made it across three lanes...but not the lane I was in. I slammed right into her rear passenger wheel-well.

I think I spent about two minutes sitting the car where it landed, screaming, before I managed to pull off onto the side street where her car had ended up, climb out, and start taking care of everything. I called work to let them know I'd be late and called the DDH to come rescue me, and neither of them could understand what I was saying--I was shaking so badly I couldn't talk clearly. My throat hurt for days from the screaming.

But, my ridiculous overreaction aside, everything was apparently fine. She had three kids in the backseat, and they were all ok. I wasn't experiencing any cramping or anything, so T-Rex was probably safe.

Everyone was okay, though her car was not driveable. Subie was in the shop for almost two weeks (that's the thing about Subarus. They're tough little cars and they last forever, but when something does go wrong, it takes an absolute eternity to get the parts--shops don't tend to keep them on hand).

I finally made it in to work after taking Subie to the shop and picking up a rental car. I then proceeded to work like mad to leave everything in order before I left, which I think I actually managed to do (except I think I might have left a flash drive of photos in my computer there, because I can't find it anywhere at home. Hmph).

Came home and putzed around putting everything in order. I wrote up directions for caring for the animals, made sure everything was packed for the hospital stay, that the guest beds were made up for when my parents arrived. Took a nap.

The DDH came home and we had a celebratory "last meal" at McAllister's, then headed off to the hospital--excited, nervous, but thinking that either way, this was it.

Yeah. As Mom told me later, "I knew when the wreck didn't send you into labor that there was no way you were having that baby yet." Sigh.

The nurse checked me into the hospital. I signed all the paperwork, donned the hideous gown, accepted the little IV valve in my wrist. I still was dilated not even to one. The nurse dosed me with misoprostol and said she'd check back in four hours.

We hung out in the room, watching Hulu. We napped. Four hours passed. Nothing. I was now maybe a one. The nurse gave me another dose. After waiting the requisite hour, we got up and paced around the hospital. I walked laps around the labor and delivery floor and then around the deserted main lobby. I set up an Instagram account and uploaded all my Day In The Life photos.

I was having contractions now. They were short and not super strong, but also really close together. When we returned upstairs, the nurse put the monitor on and said she couldn't give me another dose of the medicine yet because the contractions were coming too close together. Yet I was still only dilated to maybe a one and a half. This was getting frustrating.

We hung out some more. Tried to get some sleep. Eventually the monitor said the contractions were far enough apart and the nurse gave me another dose of the medicine. We did sleep then, for awhile.

Morning came, and another nurse, and ineffective contractions too close together. The DDH left to feed the dogs and get some breakfast. He returned with the news that some Amish people were having a bake sale in the lobby. We petitioned the nurses to let me eat (supposedly I was only allowed clear liquids this whole time), and they agreed. We trekked down to the lobby and bought cinnamon rolls and pumpkin bread and brownies (and some for the nurses as well).

This pretty much continued all day: mild, ineffectual contractions. Lots of walking. More doses of misoprostol. Continued lack of progression.

That evening, they decided to give me a different cervical ripening agent. This one eventually caused really severe cramping, but proved to be no more effective than the misoprostol. My body just was not in the least interested in giving birth yet. So they sent us home.

To be continued...

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