Awkwardly Social

It’s taken me quite some time to write this and now all the details seem hazy.  They seemed hazy as they were happening, to be honest.  I wanted to get down the gist before I forget things, but things are already forgotten.  I will however never forget how scary surgery was for me.  I still get teary and choked up when I think about it.  Anyway, here it is, at least what I can remember.

On July 9th, I had a 9:30AM 40 week appointment with my doctor and got my blood pressure checked, low as usual, and my doctor came in to do an ultrasound to check my amniotic fluid.  She hunted around for a while, quiet, which is kind of unusual for her, then she said, “Oh, here’s a pocket.”  And she hunted some more.  By the time she was done she looked at me and said, “Well, your fluid is low.  You are 40 weeks 1 day and I’d love to let you go home and let labor start on its own, but I can’t. Anything below a 7 is considered dangerous and you’re between a 3 and a 4.  You’re going to have a baby in about 48 hours.” I was pretty excited and nervous, but mostly relieved that we were going to be getting this show on the road.

We went home with a stop at an equipment house to drop off some equipment for my movie (producer to the end!) and finished packing my bag and headed back to the hospital.

We had to wait about 20 minutes before a room was ready for us, the lobby was abuzz with a family of loud talkers.   They were excited about Kourtney Kardashian being in the hospital with her new baby.  It was obnoxious but it kept my mind off the fact that things were about to get real.

We finally got checked into my room, they got my IV started and put the monitors on.  Torture began with the most uncomfortable labor bed in the hospital being in that room.  And continued when the nurse midwife (Cedars uses nurse midwives on call for private practice doctors and residents for Cedars’ in house doctors) checked my cervix and placed the Cytotec to get my cervix opened.   It was about noon by the time that fucker was jammed next to my cervix and believe me, I know labor was painful, but cervix checking and suppository placing were on my shit list.

At around 4pm the nurse midwife came in to check me, I was only a little more than a 1, which was about what I had been when we checked in and because the Cytotec was causing me regular and frequent contractions, she made the decision to not put in another pill and instead go to pitocin.  Which, as it turned out, was the exact opposite of what my doctor had ordered.  Cytotec ripens the cervix and a side effect is contractions, Pitocin causes contractions and a side effect is opening the cervix (I think).  At around 9pm, my doctor called and was talking to the nurse and from the nurses side of the conversation, you could tell my doctor was unhappy.  The pitocin was immediately turned off, and another Cytotec was placed.  At this point I was about a 2 and super uncomfortable, and grumpy and confused and just wanted to be in LABOR labor already.  5 hours of cervix ripening wasted.  I was starving and my doctor told them to let me eat and my doctor showed up and told them to get me a tray immediately that I had a long road to go and I should eat.  I had Jerry’s chicken noodle soup (my medical issues comfort food of choice) and a lot of Italian ices.  They gave me a shot of Fentanyl and I fell asleep.  When I woke up, my doctor ordered pitocin and I was almost at a 4 and really feeling it.  I got the epidural and as soon as they were about to check me again, my water broke.

And it REALLY broke.  I remember my nurse saying, “We have a gross rupture.” Which cracked me up.

During all of this a second nurse midwife had come on duty, she seemed confused about my treatment plan and was saying things about what needed to be done that sounded counter to what my doctor had ordered.  When you’re in “early labor” for that long, you get a stream of different nurses.  Shift changes, lunch breaks, it all starts to wear on you and I totally took it out on this nurse midwife.  She didn’t really deserve it, but she clearly hadn’t read my chart and I was extremely uncomfortable from the labor bed of doom and I might have scared her a little.  I can be mean when I’m in pain, and I would feel more badly about how I treated her, but whatever, it’s over now.  I’m sure she’s fine.  Pregnant ladies be crazy.

A few hours later a new nurse midwife came in and she moved my monitors around and she told me to move to my other side and she watched the monitors again and she ordered oxygen. Apparently, Moe’s heart rate had really dropped and he was showing signs of distress when I was on my right side.  This is the problem with low amniotic fluid and long labor, “cord accidents.” And now that my water had broken (gross rupture) he was probably pretty dry in there.  They finally felt comfortable with me on my left side and taking oxygen, but I could sense things were getting more serious.  Even though my awesome nurse, Niambi, was totally reassuring and keeping me calm.

My doctor came in again and did a check.  With the epidural, checks were so easy! (DUH.) And I was a 7!  Hurray! I was finally moved out of my tiny early labor room of torture and depression and into the best room on the floor.  The room with the view of all of LA.  It’s pretty spectacular.  I was moved back on my right side again, and Moe’s heart rate dropped again and I was put back on oxygen and put into a seated position.  I fell asleep for a couple of hours and at about 3:30 I woke up feeling like I needed to push.

My nurse checked me and I was a 10!  She called my doctor and while he hadn’t moved lower (station something or other?) she told the nurse that I could do some practice pushes.   This nurse had a shadow with her.  Some dude.  You guys, he was holding my leg while I was pushing (and pooping!) on the table.  It was awful.  And my Moe started having variables.  His heart rate would drop dramatically after each contraction.  They told me to stop pushing, put me on my right side and called my doctor.  I had been pushing for about 30 minutes and he hadn’t moved any lower.

At this point, I was exhausted.  I had had enough of the chipper nurse with the dude shadow.  I wanted my doctor there and a nurse who wasn’t coaching me like I was in AYSO.  Another shift change happened, my doctor arrived, and I was back with Niambi and told I could push.  An hour and a half later, his heart rate dropped dramatically and my pushing wasn’t helping things.  They needed me to turn on my left side to see if the cord had been compressed.  On oxygen and turned onto my left side I felt the kind of pain I imagine natural child birth feels like.  My epidural couldn’t cut through it.  I started to sob.  And dry heave.  They called in the anesthesiologist and he was concerned if he upped my epidural, I wouldn’t be able to push.  My doctor was concerned that if she didn’t keep me in that position, his cord would be compressed again.

So they upped the epidural, I tried pushing for 30 more minutes all the while sobbing and dry heaving and having a nervous breakdown.  And then they took my temperature.  100.1.  Moe was dipping with every push.  His head was caught behind my pelvis and it is arched in a way that if I couldn’t push at full capacity and in some different positions (ones that would probably compress his cord again) he wouldn’t get past the position he was in.  And she was seeing meconium when I pushed.

My doctor came to the head of the bed and said, “I don’t want to do this, but you are exhausted, your temperature has spiked, his heart rate is showing extreme signs of distress and the amount of meconium I’m seeing means he’s pooped because of stress.  We can keep pushing, but you’ll have to be on your left side, or we can try some other positions, and if you can move him down lower, we can do vacuum extraction, but we have to get this baby out soon and our last option is c section.  Do you want to keep pushing, do you think you can?”

Now, you guys, my doctor is not pro c-section.  She was upset that we had gotten to this point.   I started to sob.  My upper body was shaking out of control.  I was so scared.  I howled, “I don’t knooowww!” I thought I might die. It sounds so dramatic now, but all I could think about was me dying on the table and Moe being raised without a mother.

Seth tried to talk to me, but I couldn’t stop crying.  I just didn’t know what to do.  I thought about my mom and how she was dead and I was going to be dead soon too.  Seth called my doctor over and asked her what we should do.  She said, “It’s up to you, but I think with as stressed as the baby is, and with her temperature spiking, the amount of meconium  that’s present, we need to move relatively fast.”  She said if I kept pushing and got to vacuum extraction and we still couldn’t get him out, then we’d really have a bad situation on our hands.  She leaned down and said, “I know you’re scared, but we’re going to take care of you.”  And we decided to do the c section.

The room came alive with activity.  Nurses flooded in, I was shaved, I was prepped, I was asked if I had an advance directive.  Seth changed into scrubs.  All the while I couldn’t stop shaking or sobbing.

They wheeled me into the operating room and I was surrounded, 3 anesthesiologists, my doctor and 2 resident surgeons, 3 NICU pediatricians, and a cadre of nurses.  Everything moved really fast and I couldn’t stop crying and shaking. I was a mess.  Everyone kept asking me if I was ok and I kept saying, “I’m really freaked out.” I was worried about Moses, but also about me.  I just kept thinking about my dead mom.  And how I was going to be dead soon too.  Then I started to puke.  The anesthesiologist was so nice, he held a barf tray by my head and told me everything was going to be ok, that his wife had had two c sections, and finally Seth came in and I kept crying and shaking.  And they did the touch test to see if I could feel anything and finally they started the surgery.  I felt some pushing and tugging, but nothing like I had imagined.  It wasn’t really that bad, and finally I heard my doctor say, “Oh, he’s really cute!” They told Seth to get his camera ready and he took some shots.  Shots that I can’t look at because you can see some of my gore (I think, I can only look at them through my fingers over my eyes).  And they whisked him over to the peds and began assessing him.  “Oh! He has dimples!” was the next thing I heard.  Then one of the doctors came over to me and began to tell me that they were a little concerned about his breathing and that there were going to take him to the nursery, run some tests and monitor him for a bit to make sure there wasn’t any meconium in his lungs.  They let me look at him once before they took him away.  Seth went with him.  And I was alone on the table with doctors examining my guts.  It seemed like things were taking a long time and I started to cry again.  I whimpered out, “Is everything ok?”  My doctor said everything’s ok, we’re closing up now.

And what seemed like hours later, and is a total blur now I was closed up and wheeled into recovery.

It wasn’t the birth I had imagined.  But I’m not traumatized because I didn’t plan for a c section, I felt traumatized (the feeling has lessened quite a bit now) because I felt so helpless and out of control.  I felt like I wasn’t doing anything right.  I felt like I wasn’t enough to bring him here without a serious medical intervention.  I know all of those feelings are silly and get a person nowhere, but there you go, I felt them.

My hospital stay was less than stellar for my recovery, more fear, more uncertainty about my own health.  But I’ve been home now for a little over a week and I’m starting to feel the edges of normal.

I haven’t forgotten how 40 weeks ago I was a mess.  Three nightly injections, twice weekly acupuncture appointments, every other day blood work and ultrasounds and then 4 LONG weeks after that, I was suffering mightily from OHSS and told I was pregnant.  I didn’t believe it.  And even though I totally believe it now, as this kid plays rib stomp, I still wonder how I got so lucky.

My competitive nature has been a wee bit in overdrive this week.  I was pretty sure I was going to give birth this week, just before my due date so that I would be the perfect pregnant person.  As it turns out, there is no perfection in pregnancy.  Which, actually, is a pretty good lesson.  I might, however, have mentioned to the child inside that he has disappointed his mother for the very first time (but probably not the last time…) on the 4th of July by not being born on that day.   I… think I might be too Capricorn-y for this Cancer-y baby, I guess I’m lucky he’s not a Pisces.  Two fish in one house with a Capricorn mother, oof.

I got to spend the afternoon in my friends’ pool today and wow, was that awesome.  I got out and immediately felt every extra pound I’ve gained.  (All 48 of them!) That’s a lot of gravity.

Doctor appointment tomorrow to discuss induction at 41 weeks.  The one good thing about this appointment will be that we’ll get to see him on the ultrasound again.  I do love me a good ultrasound.

Any great easy induction at 41 week stories welcome.  No horror stories, please.  I am kind of skeeeered of Pitocin.

Maybe the last bump photo?  Penultimate?

I realize having large heavy metal objects in a nursery is probably not a great idea.  Not because the baby will bash in someone’s (his own?) skull with them, but um, I’m pretty grumpy lately and a heavy metal object in arm’s reach will probably lead to me in lock-up with a dead husband and a baby being raised by my sister.  If she wants him, that is.  He might be a terrible little human.  I’m only guessing that because of the way he’s kicking my rib (OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN) right now.

BUT! I have started a little bit of a brass animal obsession.  It started with these awesome gazelle bookends that I picked up for $30 from eBay.

And then I kind of got to browsing Etsy and, uh, this giraffe is going to be mine! (I mean, his…)

And if I get the giraffe, I kind of need the elephant to go with it, right?

And maybe these elephant bookends will look nice…

Or these guys, because they look less stabby.

Or, how about this camel!  (Did you guys know I had kind of a camel obsession as a child? Well, I DID.)

Oh god, and then there’s THESE antelopes in action bookends!

I mean, I’m not working, I’m not in labor, and I have a couple of shelves that seem to need this kind of thing.  This is nesting right?  That means I’m going to have this baby soon, doesn’t it?  PLEASE SAY YES.

I had my last day of work on Friday, worked on the nursery yesterday and got a pedicure today, so basically this baby better get here soon because I have so little left to do.  So little except obsess about how much weight I’ve gained and how I’m going to lose said weight, and oh hey, did I ever tell you living in LA can be very difficult if you are a normal person with normal cellulite and normal wrinkles on your forehead?  This has not stopped me from eating ice cream almost every day, however.

I also need advice on crib mattresses.  I have this one bookmarked (organic dual sided blah-de-blah it’s $289!) but I’m open to suggestions.  Oh lord, I just went to a Babble (vomit) link and they had a $550 mattress listed in one of their ridiculous slide shows of doom.

And now for an awkward segue. I want this baby to be born this week.  The anniversary of my mom’s death is coming up (July 14th) and I’m all anxious about him being born on that day, so of course, I feel like that will probably happen.  Because sunrise, sunset, circle of life and wow, I miss my mom.  I cannot tell you how hard it is to continually have to come to grips with the fact that your mother is dead.  You would think it would just one day be like, yeah, she’s gone, and then your grief fades and you remember the good things, but nope! Just keeps coming back.  Aaaand now I’m crying again.

Deep breath.

Here’s the bump photo.

I just sighed and said, “Oh god,” under my breath. Not a worried ‘oh god’ more of an ‘I’m so exhausted of myself and these dumb posts’ oh god.

The whole hospital bag thing is confusing to me.  Do you people have extra cosmetics and shit that you can just pack away and not use?  Because I don’t.  Also, my comfortable “coming home” clothes are the clothes I’m currently wearing to work.  Yes, I am wearing pajamas to work.  Basically.  I don’t care.  What I’m trying to say is, how can I pack my work pajamas when I need to wear them?  Also, I use my camera and my iPhone (mp3 player) daily.  How exactly would I pack those things before hand?  Am I really going to be so out of sorts I can’t throw my make-up and work pajamas into a bag while I’m having contractions?  No really, tell me honestly.  Do people just live really far from the hospital and their husbands can’t drive the 15 minutes home to get some shit you forgot?  (Obviously, I’m not talking about during labor, but during that time after the baby is born when he’ll probably need to go home and, I don’t know, check on the dog? Hmmm… maybe I need to make sure someone else can check on the dog? You guys, I am so clueless.)

I’m making a playlist for labor, but honestly right now I feel like every single song is just going to bug the shit out of me while I’m in pain.  Maybe I just need my rain mp3? Did you have awesome songs you loved on your playlist, or were you like fuck this shit everyone shut the fuck up?

I had my last appointment with my acupuncturist before she left for maternity leave, I’m going to miss her. I hope the ladies covering for her don’t bug the shit out of me.  Basically, everything and everyone does right now, so the odds are not in their favor.  Poor new ladies.

The dumb bassinet still hasn’t shipped.  What the hell, non-Amazon vendor?  7 days to get something shipped?  That seems… really old school.  I’m used to Amazon’s nearly instant shipment notification and 2 day free prime shipping.  The fact that everyone doesn’t do that makes me crazy.  Get on the ball, small time companies!  Or Amazon will gobble you up!

Seth “installed” the car seat and I got into the car, turned around and wiggled it and it slid about 3 inches back and forth and I was all, “IN WHAT UNIVERSE DOES THIS SEEM SAFE TO YOU?!” And he got all defensive and I was all grumpy and wow, parenting with me is going to be sooooooo fun, right?

These diapers are too small.  I’m scared.

I actually lost a pound this week.  Not sure what that’s about.

Please don’t let me go 2 weeks past my due date.  I am not a nice person to be around right now.

It’s all I can do to focus on the difficult task of finishing two episodes these days.  By the time I get home, I think to myself, oh, I should write about this!  And then I get distracted by the size my ankles and my dwindling Tums supply and before I know it I’ve purchased 10 more pairs of teeny tiny socks.

I have about 5 days and 3 hours of work left and the big question I get is what I’m planning on doing after the baby gets here.  And my big answer is, uh, hopefully one day still be employable?  Maybe 3 months from now, maybe 6?  Maybe… I’ll be a big shot movie producer and all of you will work for me?  Being a freelance producer has its downsides.  One of them being constantly looking for work and never feeling like you can turn down a job.  Also, being a mom and a freelance producer sounds really, really complicated, with a side of really scary that everyone knows I have a baby now and maybe they’ll think I can’t do my job well anymore.

Some of these feelings came up because of that article about women in high powered political positions who have sacrificed a lot for their careers and that “a lot” includes quality parenting time.

UGH.

Someone bring me my Tums!  I like the fruit flavored kind.  And have you seen the size of my ankles?

I had acupuncture on Friday and my feet were still swollen stumps by the end of the day.  As I was leaving work, the unborn started really banging on my cervix.  It took my breath away a few times and freaked out my 24 year old coworker when I paused and grabbed the desk and sort stood there and tried to breath.  By the time I got home I couldn’t get comfortable and I was feeling pretty shitty.  I went to the bathroom and noticed some blood.  Just a small amount, but the first time I’ve seen blood in… oh, since fertility treatments started.  I called the on call OB and was told to take it easy on Saturday and if it got worse or started feeling regular contractions to head to the hospital.  Well, that was a wake-up call, ladies and gents.  I could have this baby soon.  VERY SOON.

The baby is still in there and I am still uncomfortable and huge and sweaty and lumbering but I have two episodes to lock before I can be done with work (2 episodes equals 2 weeks…). (Cervix check this morning revealed a soft but closed cervix.)

Seth assembled the crib.  I ordered the bassinet. I canceled my baby shower (it was supposed to be next Sunday but I seriously cannot deal) some of you will think I’m crazy, other people will understand.   We’re going to do a baby coming out party sometime in September. I’m exhausted and cranky and uncomfortable but not at all ready to be unpregnant.

People keep asking me how far along I am and I say 9 months.  And they’re like, “WOAH, so you’re due like now?” and then I have to explain to them that pregnancy is 40 fucking weeks.  And they glaze over and just want to know my due date.  I’ve also had a couple of people tell me I don’t look that pregnant, which is hilarious, because COME ON.  Also, the baby is measuring in the normal range, so suck it!  My body just likes to modestly keep the baby close and not basketball it away from itself like some cute pregnant people I know.

The ankles are still a swelling and I’m uncomfortable about 30% of my day.  Which, to be honest isn’t really that terrible.  It’s just the cervix head bumps that are really making me gasp.  Lay off the cervix, kid.

I saw the doctor today and she reassured me that her c section rate is much lower than Cedars’ which makes me feel better.  That and the (slightly offensive?) reassurance from Seth that I have a good birthing body and a little distance from the class and I’m feeling much better.  Besides, if I have a c section, I have a c section.  Not much can be done by worrying over it. (Thanks for all the advice, by the way.  It’s been very, very helpful.)  And as Seth and I like to say (even though neither of us is remotely religious or in AA), “Let go and let god.”  We say it with a little irony, of course, but not so much as to be offensive (we hope).

The car seat arrived yesterday, but it is sitting in the box alongside the crib (also in the box) and I have yet to pull the trigger on the bassinet.  So, procrastination is still in effect.  My doctor is out of town next week, so the baby is on strict instructions NOT to be born while she is gone, and so if he is born next week, I will be so PISSED.  Her office has 6 (maybe 7?) doctors in practice with her, but I’ve never met any of them.  Her practice doesn’t work that way, she’s my doctor and does the delivery, they don’t trade days.  So, yeah, STAY INSIDE, kid.  You have some more cooking to do!  Thankfully I’ll see her Monday morning before she leaves, so if anything seems weird, we’ll know then that someone else will probably be handling the catching.  (Please don’t let that happen…)

Ok, then.  Here’s the bump.

So THIS is why people tell you being pregnant in the summer is kind of miserable! My feet, oh, my poor, poor feet.  The water retention is insane and now I can actually feel the water sort of shift around on the tops of my feet when I walk barefoot, which is pretty disconcerting.  I had acupuncture on Friday which supposedly helps, but I think I’m just at that point where it’s going to be ol’ elephant foot around here until this guy is on the outside. Anybody have any great advice for making this go away?  Because I’m all ears (and feet).

We had our first birth class on Saturday.  I’m the farthest along.  There was one woman I tweeted about who seriously wanted to know if she could check how far she was dilated herself.  Her reason?  She didn’t want to get to the hospital only to be sent home.  Um, lady?  Let’s just take this one as it comes, alright? The birth coach gave some kind of depressing statistics to our class, out of the 13 couples there 4 or 5 of us would end up having a c section.  The hospital I’m delivering in has a very high rate of caesarean, which kind of depresses me.  I’d rather not have to recover from major abdominal surgery while dealing with a newborn.  I had a hard enough time with my tiny ear surgery a year and a half ago, I can’t imagine what having a baby taken out the hatch will do to my mental health.  I’m trying to stay calm about the whole thing because whatever happens happens, healthy alive baby is the goal, but yeah… Those of you who’ve had c sections, how bad was the recovery in that first couple of weeks?  Did you have help at home?  Seth will likely be working and my sister might not be able to get here immediately. (And yes I know about the FMLA, but we work in an industry where taking FML means likely not having a job when you’re done.  Show biz!  Being in a union helps but he hasn’t worked a union job in about 6 months and won’t be on the next one.)

The other weird thing at the birth class was there was only one girl out of those of us who knew the sex (4 couples chose to wait until the baby was born).  Only 1!  Dragon girls are going to be rare!

Seth has basically tried to put me on bed rest which is totally rubbing me the wrong way.  I had to break it to him today that my doctor has not put me on bed rest and he is not my doctor so I am allowed to be out of bed.  Don’t get me wrong, having a concerned husband is awesome, but I’d like to be able to swiffer these floors, because they don’t seem to be cleaning themselves.

Last week marked the end of being able to wear my wedding rings.  I could probably get them on today if I tried, but I figured it was best to just put them away until after he gets here.

I think that’s all I have to report.  Bump photo!

Well, no one ever said producing a movie while you’re 8+ months pregnant would be easy.  Especially one set in the desert.  Where you actually shoot in the desert.

My feet and ankles have reached new swelling potential.  It’s a sight to see today and they kind of feel like they’re going to split open.  It’s pretty terrible, actually, but given that I’ve had almost zero issues, I’ll take it.

I had a doctor’s appointment this morning.  She did an ultrasound (the last time I’ll get to see him on the inside unless I don’t deliver before July 8th) and while I didn’t see his profile I saw his beating heart and his chest rising and falling doing practice breathing.  He’s head down, measuring at about 4 1/2 pounds.

We’re still about 6 weeks away from meeting him, and most of that time I’ll be working, but it’s starting to feel really close.  REALLY CLOSE.