I know it's been awhile since I posted regularly, so I didn't get Levi's birth story up. In fact, I don't think I got Laurelyn's up! Sad day. I only posted 11 posts last year. That's less than one a month! I hope this year will be better. . . I hope. November 12 The one thing I told my midwife was that I didn't want to be induced. Inductions (I've had three now) are pretty hard on me. So, of course, I had to get gestational hypertensia and HAD to be induced so it wouldn't turn into pre-eclampsia. I'm looking at these pictures and I can't believe how swollen my face is! Wow. In fact, my blood pressure and the swelling didn't really go back to normal for around 3 weeks or so. It was actually kind of a rough time.
But look at what I have now! My last appointment with Kim was on a Wednesday, and the induction was Friday morning. I hoped and prayed so hard that I would be able to go into labor on my own. I'm not sure why I was so worried about it, but I somehow thought I would need a c-section if I didn't. Probably a crazy thought, but I was positive that's what would happen. The last two times I was induced (with Enoch and Lolly) I almost had to have one. But Kim told me that it was the best for both me and the baby, so I agreed. This was my scariest delivery yet. Besides not feeling ready for four at all, I was really anxious about the c-section thing--and partly because my blood pressure made me feel that way too. I asked Robert to get someone to help him give me a blessing, but I think he felt silly asking someone to help when I wasn't really "sick"--although I think preparing for labor qualifies--so he didn't try very hard to contact anyone and it got too late for me to be comfortable calling anyone for myself. Oh well. I said a really long prayer instead, and I started to feel some peace. I'm so glad we have prayer (and that you don't have to call anyone to have it). That night, as I slept, I started feeling contractions. I didn't really notice what they were until about 3 in the morning when I woke up enough to notice the sick-to-my-stomach feeling wasn't just nervousness, but it was coming every 3 to 5 minutes. I'm so glad I was able to sleep through a lot of it, but they were starting to get too strong, so I got up to walk around and go to the bathroom. Sure enough, bloody show. I got really excited. Walking around didn't make the contractions go away. I woke up Robert and told him we might have to go in earlier than 5 am, the time we were scheduled for. I told him I needed his support right now, too. Poor guy was really tired, so he stayed in bed a little longer. I started watching the clock and dreading every 3 minutes passing. I got ready, went downstairs to tell Becky that we might leave a little early, switched the laundry to the dryer, and then decided I would eat a little (I know, I know, but I hate going in for labor and getting so hungry later). As soon as I was finished eating, the contractions stopped coming so strong, which I actually wasn't so happy about, because I wanted to go in and let them know I didn't need any pitocin. We waited to go in when we were scheduled (in truth, we only had about 10 minutes to wait out, because it took me extra long to get ready in between contractions). And we got to the hospital right on the dot. The nurse commented that she knew we must be Kim's patient because they're always on time (she threatens us really effectively ;D). I told everyone that I was already in labor, but nobody believed me or seemed to care. Even Kim didn't bother to check me or anything, and she ordered the pitocin right away. I was pretty bummed, but I'm not one to say anything in the face of authority, so I let it slide and silently grumbled to myself (and maybe a little to Robert, too). The contractions started coming on VERY strong in the next 5 minutes or so. There were plenty of nurses still in the room drawing my blood and whatever, so I tried my best to not look like I was in too much pain. It was absolutely exhausting to do that. I couldn't wait for them to go out so I could grimace and not have to smile and nod pleasantly to whatever they were saying. Kim came in and talked to Robert about medical stuff for thirty minutes or so. It was still hard to stay pleasant, but it was also a bit of a welcome distraction from the contractions. Thank goodness she wasn't actually talking to me, though. I don't think I could have responded well. Robert tried his hardest to be supportive. He rubbed my feet and legs and talked to me to keep my mind off of the pain. He also helped me get up to use the bathroom. We had been in for awhile and I needed to use the toilet again. That was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Contractions were around 2 minutes apart and incredibly strong. I went in the bathroom alone and completely broke down. I had to go, but I couldn't get my muscles to relax long enough in between the contractions. Once I was finally able to get back to the bed, I needed an epidural. Badly. Before the contractions got that bad I was able to focus on how great it would be to have a newborn and how much I wanted to get to know him and love him and see him, and that would make the pain go away, but in that moment I hated babies. I knew the pain wouldn't be over after he was born, or after he was weaned, or after he was potty trained, or pretty much ever. And the hurt just kept coming. Stronger. And. Stronger. I never wanted to see a baby again. Those thoughts only made the pain worse, so as soon as the nurse came in I asked for an epidural. She got permission from Kim to drug me while I waited for the anesthesiologist. The medicine quickly coursed through my veins straight to my brain. And even though my head was cloudy and I couldn't hold my eyes steady, I felt terrific. I loved everyone SO much. Especially the little baby inside of me. I totally understand why people get addicted to drugs. In fact, I'm usually afraid to get prescription painkillers because I like them way too much. Just pop a little pill and your world turns into sunshine and daffodils. Thank goodness we have the gospel, because. . . seriously, if I didn't have the Holy Ghost to give me comfort. Shoot. I don't know where I'd be. Well, actually, yes, yes I do know where I'd be. Because just a minute or two after the painkillers set in, the anesthesiologist showed up. Perfect. I wouldn't have to feel anymore pain. However, there was a scaly part on my back. I get dry skin when I'm pregnant--apparently right where they usually stick the epidural. The anesthesiologist asked me if I was sure I wanted one. He made it sound like I shouldn't, and I couldn't think straight for more than two seconds in a row because of the drugs. The nurse called Kim in. I remember there was some drama for a few minutes and that the anesthesiologist was there for quite awhile, but I don't remember much more (I was heavily drugged). (finished writing on March 30, 2011) Robert helped me decide, and I got the epidural in one of the spaces on my back that was higher up than the usual spot. I layed back and went to sleep, only waking up every once in awhile. Robert took a nap too. Before long, Kim came in and had me push. I pushed once. She told me not to push after that, but just to let the contraction push the baby out the rest of the way. It worked. He was out. It was happy. I didn't tear or anything, Kim said I might have if I'd pushed the second time. They put him on my chest, and he pooped all over me and himself--including the little tags they put on his feet and had to wear the rest of the time in the hospital--GROSS! He was still such a cutie, though. They weighed him, and measured him, and did all of their tests, and I didn't really shake or feel hungry like I usually do, because he was born by 10:10 or 10 to 10, I forget (I wonder if part of the shaking is from being hungry). All in all, it was a great delivery. The afterbirth came, and Robert looked over it with Kim (it's definitely a different experience being married to a med student). And we were transferred to our room down the hall. And then all of the children and Aunt Becky came to visit.
These are the awesome people who helped me. I'm blanking on the nurses name right now (Stephanie? She also was there to help with Lolly), but Kim Bennett is my midwife in the dark blue.
But look at what I have now! My last appointment with Kim was on a Wednesday, and the induction was Friday morning. I hoped and prayed so hard that I would be able to go into labor on my own. I'm not sure why I was so worried about it, but I somehow thought I would need a c-section if I didn't. Probably a crazy thought, but I was positive that's what would happen. The last two times I was induced (with Enoch and Lolly) I almost had to have one. But Kim told me that it was the best for both me and the baby, so I agreed. This was my scariest delivery yet. Besides not feeling ready for four at all, I was really anxious about the c-section thing--and partly because my blood pressure made me feel that way too. I asked Robert to get someone to help him give me a blessing, but I think he felt silly asking someone to help when I wasn't really "sick"--although I think preparing for labor qualifies--so he didn't try very hard to contact anyone and it got too late for me to be comfortable calling anyone for myself. Oh well. I said a really long prayer instead, and I started to feel some peace. I'm so glad we have prayer (and that you don't have to call anyone to have it). That night, as I slept, I started feeling contractions. I didn't really notice what they were until about 3 in the morning when I woke up enough to notice the sick-to-my-stomach feeling wasn't just nervousness, but it was coming every 3 to 5 minutes. I'm so glad I was able to sleep through a lot of it, but they were starting to get too strong, so I got up to walk around and go to the bathroom. Sure enough, bloody show. I got really excited. Walking around didn't make the contractions go away. I woke up Robert and told him we might have to go in earlier than 5 am, the time we were scheduled for. I told him I needed his support right now, too. Poor guy was really tired, so he stayed in bed a little longer. I started watching the clock and dreading every 3 minutes passing. I got ready, went downstairs to tell Becky that we might leave a little early, switched the laundry to the dryer, and then decided I would eat a little (I know, I know, but I hate going in for labor and getting so hungry later). As soon as I was finished eating, the contractions stopped coming so strong, which I actually wasn't so happy about, because I wanted to go in and let them know I didn't need any pitocin. We waited to go in when we were scheduled (in truth, we only had about 10 minutes to wait out, because it took me extra long to get ready in between contractions). And we got to the hospital right on the dot. The nurse commented that she knew we must be Kim's patient because they're always on time (she threatens us really effectively ;D). I told everyone that I was already in labor, but nobody believed me or seemed to care. Even Kim didn't bother to check me or anything, and she ordered the pitocin right away. I was pretty bummed, but I'm not one to say anything in the face of authority, so I let it slide and silently grumbled to myself (and maybe a little to Robert, too). The contractions started coming on VERY strong in the next 5 minutes or so. There were plenty of nurses still in the room drawing my blood and whatever, so I tried my best to not look like I was in too much pain. It was absolutely exhausting to do that. I couldn't wait for them to go out so I could grimace and not have to smile and nod pleasantly to whatever they were saying. Kim came in and talked to Robert about medical stuff for thirty minutes or so. It was still hard to stay pleasant, but it was also a bit of a welcome distraction from the contractions. Thank goodness she wasn't actually talking to me, though. I don't think I could have responded well. Robert tried his hardest to be supportive. He rubbed my feet and legs and talked to me to keep my mind off of the pain. He also helped me get up to use the bathroom. We had been in for awhile and I needed to use the toilet again. That was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Contractions were around 2 minutes apart and incredibly strong. I went in the bathroom alone and completely broke down. I had to go, but I couldn't get my muscles to relax long enough in between the contractions. Once I was finally able to get back to the bed, I needed an epidural. Badly. Before the contractions got that bad I was able to focus on how great it would be to have a newborn and how much I wanted to get to know him and love him and see him, and that would make the pain go away, but in that moment I hated babies. I knew the pain wouldn't be over after he was born, or after he was weaned, or after he was potty trained, or pretty much ever. And the hurt just kept coming. Stronger. And. Stronger. I never wanted to see a baby again. Those thoughts only made the pain worse, so as soon as the nurse came in I asked for an epidural. She got permission from Kim to drug me while I waited for the anesthesiologist. The medicine quickly coursed through my veins straight to my brain. And even though my head was cloudy and I couldn't hold my eyes steady, I felt terrific. I loved everyone SO much. Especially the little baby inside of me. I totally understand why people get addicted to drugs. In fact, I'm usually afraid to get prescription painkillers because I like them way too much. Just pop a little pill and your world turns into sunshine and daffodils. Thank goodness we have the gospel, because. . . seriously, if I didn't have the Holy Ghost to give me comfort. Shoot. I don't know where I'd be. Well, actually, yes, yes I do know where I'd be. Because just a minute or two after the painkillers set in, the anesthesiologist showed up. Perfect. I wouldn't have to feel anymore pain. However, there was a scaly part on my back. I get dry skin when I'm pregnant--apparently right where they usually stick the epidural. The anesthesiologist asked me if I was sure I wanted one. He made it sound like I shouldn't, and I couldn't think straight for more than two seconds in a row because of the drugs. The nurse called Kim in. I remember there was some drama for a few minutes and that the anesthesiologist was there for quite awhile, but I don't remember much more (I was heavily drugged). (finished writing on March 30, 2011) Robert helped me decide, and I got the epidural in one of the spaces on my back that was higher up than the usual spot. I layed back and went to sleep, only waking up every once in awhile. Robert took a nap too. Before long, Kim came in and had me push. I pushed once. She told me not to push after that, but just to let the contraction push the baby out the rest of the way. It worked. He was out. It was happy. I didn't tear or anything, Kim said I might have if I'd pushed the second time. They put him on my chest, and he pooped all over me and himself--including the little tags they put on his feet and had to wear the rest of the time in the hospital--GROSS! He was still such a cutie, though. They weighed him, and measured him, and did all of their tests, and I didn't really shake or feel hungry like I usually do, because he was born by 10:10 or 10 to 10, I forget (I wonder if part of the shaking is from being hungry). All in all, it was a great delivery. The afterbirth came, and Robert looked over it with Kim (it's definitely a different experience being married to a med student). And we were transferred to our room down the hall. And then all of the children and Aunt Becky came to visit. 
These are the awesome people who helped me. I'm blanking on the nurses name right now (Stephanie? She also was there to help with Lolly), but Kim Bennett is my midwife in the dark blue. 
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