Friday, October 29, 2010
punkins and pumpkins
Sunday, October 17, 2010
The Here and Now.. and Where and When
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Dedicated
Last weekend we were honored to have the opportunity to dedicate little Silas. We got to share the sweet event with little Chandler, Silas's belly buddy. We are so grateful to have shared pregnancies and this sweet dedication with the Groves family! Much thanks for posting this on your blog so we can share it to!
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
His Birth Story
Warning: this is a story of labor. If you the kind of person who would rather just believe that babies go directly from the stork to the nursery you can skip this one :-).
10:30 am September 15th. My Dr came into the exam room and told me I must have been doing something right because the hospital had room for me to start my induction the next morning.
2:00 am September 16th. Woke up too nervous to go back to sleep. Laid in bed for a couple of hours before getting up around 4:00. Ate a banana and glass of milk. Paced my house, took a shower and did my makeup.
5:20 am called into Labor and Delivery to confirm my "bed availability." They had room but told me to come at 6:45.
6:15 am took the boys to my sweet friend Eowyn's house where her own six boys were still sleeping.
7:00 am got checked in and by 7:30 was on an IV and pitocin drip. Our hospital is under construction and aparently there were lots of babies coming so I ended up in an older labor room that felt a lot like a storage closet. There was a rocker in the bathroom and the shower was full of iv stands. Glad I wasn't planning on going "natural" b/c that would have been a major problem. There was a giant leather couch though so Lucas and my mom were able to get comfortable. Also met our horrible nurse. She greeted me by almost completely ignoring my birth plan, bringing in an EMT student that I as not happy about and telling me that she doesnt handle puke. That she can handle anything else, but not that. Right. Sorry Lady I'm a puker. Which did indeed happen while she was giving me my IV. When she went to throw it away she grabbed (maybe should say jerked) the container (its like a trash bag in a cylinder shape with a hard plastic ring at the top) from the bottom and proceeded to spill. my. puke. on. me. yay. Then she left. She didnt say anything, but walked out. With her EMT. I'm sitting there all gross and yucky, shaking, having almost just passed out during the iv and Lucas is trying to comfort me and digging around the room looking for a new gown for his wife. She eventually did come back in to help me change, but never appologized. I was shocked. But wait! It gets worse!.
10:00 My dr came in and broke my water. Let me just say... it was painful. I believe I yelled at her. Lucas says I told her to get away from me. I don't remember. I love my dr. though.. she's great... just don't let her break your water that early!
11:00 ishI decided it was time for my epidural. I wasn't too uncomfortable yet, but I knew what was coming. The guy came in, complaining to the nurse about how busy they were. They were literally playing the blame game on hospital admin while giving me an epidural. He poked me no less than five times, hit something that made my whole back feel like a funny bone. Eventually it went in and I started to feel the warm goodness of anesthesia. For a couple of hours anyway. Eventually it wore off. I first noticed that my belly (you know, where you should be numb) was itchy. Really really itchy. I told nurse cratchit (my dad named her, not me) about the itchy belly and she made some comment about the hospital buying the cheapest material possible and that it was just the monitors.. they itch. Okay, whatever. Within an hour or two I was feeling full blown contractions and no epidural. They tried twice to give me more medicine, but nope. It just wasn't working. At this point I considered being brave and finishing without it, but then got some reality blown back into my lungs and welcomed the good anstheiologist with open arms. He poked me once. And it took. Like a charm. He gets the gold star, his friend needs to watch him a few times.
12:00 My Dr came back to visit and announced that I hadnt changed much. The baby still wasn't engaged. He was just floating. I wanted to be floating.
Late Afternoon: My Dr. came back around 4 and told me that if things didnt get moving we might be looking at a cesarean. Whereas my first and second labors with the big boys I was all but begging to get out of a delivery, the reality that I might not get to go through one scared me. We got out word to our church to pray. I also started playing worship music over my belly with my iphone and singing to my sweet baby, trying to lure him out. I made a pandora station with the Robbie Seay Band and it pulled up all kinds of great worship... just what we needed. We chose the name Silas because he was a noted worshiper! When he and Paul were in jail, facing persecution... they worshiped. So we worshiped. Around the same time My Mother in law called to check on us. She is a midwife, or was, and has delivered lots and lots of babies. She suggested an exercise for us to try to help Silas turn the right way so he would come out. It involved my husband pulling my lifeless deadwieght legs up into a bent position (on my back, kness bent... got it?) and then helping me open my knees into a butterfly position with each contraction. We tried.. and laughed.. a lot....it was simply hilarious. The lovely nurse came in and (after laughing at us.. really it felt much more like laughing AT us than with us) suggested I sit in the "buddah position." She sat up my bed all the way and they helped me arange my legs in a butterly position. Ahh. Much more comfortable. No more flipping me from side to side like she had been doing all day. Why did you not suggest this hours ago??
It seemed to be helping, all of these efforts. But the real reason we got out of a cesarean?? My dad went to get Whataburger for him mom and Lucas. The same exact thing happened while I was in labor with Balin. Dad went to get lunch (Whataburger) , and as soon as he got back and handed Lucas food it was time to push. No joke. Dad came back with the food and it was time. Whataburger... always brings a crowd :-).
Labor was very different this time from my others. With Ayden and Balin there were crowds of people it seemed. This was so much simpler. So much quieter. There was only the five of us. My Dr., nurse cratchit, Lucas and myself and of course, Silas. Exactly what I wanted for my last baby. Me and his daddy together focused only on him.
I pushed through three contractions and there he was. At 6:57 p.m. His chord was around his neck once, but loose. He was "grunty" and not taking very deep breaths though so after a few short moments they took him away for some time with an oxygen mask.I was scared so another prayer request went out for my sweet babe. I knew God would protect, here or wherever. I knew His plan is perfect, but I longed to have him in my arms. I actually wanted to nurse him. I wanted him with me. Meanwhile the horrid nurse came back and was transitioning me to the next nurse. She had time to make a few more comments about how they called babies like this "wimpy white boys" (if only she knew this kiddos heritage) and also to tell me, a anxious worried new mama who had chosen with her Doctors advice to induce, that "he was just a few days too soon. He needed more time. Did you notice all the lanugo on him? He just wasn't ready." GO AWAY LADY. She was inapropriate, out of line and this is the end of her existence in our story. I was taken by a new, kind nurse, to my post partum room which was very nice. My parents took off to get the big boys since Silas was in the NICU and they couldnt see him anyway.Two hours later he was back in my arms. Perfect. Squashed and bruised, but perfect. He is here and I am fully aware that although there were many anoying and irritating moments to my delivery, this was a really easy labor and delivery. I am thankful for that.
10:30 am September 15th. My Dr came into the exam room and told me I must have been doing something right because the hospital had room for me to start my induction the next morning.
2:00 am September 16th. Woke up too nervous to go back to sleep. Laid in bed for a couple of hours before getting up around 4:00. Ate a banana and glass of milk. Paced my house, took a shower and did my makeup.
5:20 am called into Labor and Delivery to confirm my "bed availability." They had room but told me to come at 6:45.
6:15 am took the boys to my sweet friend Eowyn's house where her own six boys were still sleeping.
7:00 am got checked in and by 7:30 was on an IV and pitocin drip. Our hospital is under construction and aparently there were lots of babies coming so I ended up in an older labor room that felt a lot like a storage closet. There was a rocker in the bathroom and the shower was full of iv stands. Glad I wasn't planning on going "natural" b/c that would have been a major problem. There was a giant leather couch though so Lucas and my mom were able to get comfortable. Also met our horrible nurse. She greeted me by almost completely ignoring my birth plan, bringing in an EMT student that I as not happy about and telling me that she doesnt handle puke. That she can handle anything else, but not that. Right. Sorry Lady I'm a puker. Which did indeed happen while she was giving me my IV. When she went to throw it away she grabbed (maybe should say jerked) the container (its like a trash bag in a cylinder shape with a hard plastic ring at the top) from the bottom and proceeded to spill. my. puke. on. me. yay. Then she left. She didnt say anything, but walked out. With her EMT. I'm sitting there all gross and yucky, shaking, having almost just passed out during the iv and Lucas is trying to comfort me and digging around the room looking for a new gown for his wife. She eventually did come back in to help me change, but never appologized. I was shocked. But wait! It gets worse!.
10:00 My dr came in and broke my water. Let me just say... it was painful. I believe I yelled at her. Lucas says I told her to get away from me. I don't remember. I love my dr. though.. she's great... just don't let her break your water that early!
11:00 ishI decided it was time for my epidural. I wasn't too uncomfortable yet, but I knew what was coming. The guy came in, complaining to the nurse about how busy they were. They were literally playing the blame game on hospital admin while giving me an epidural. He poked me no less than five times, hit something that made my whole back feel like a funny bone. Eventually it went in and I started to feel the warm goodness of anesthesia. For a couple of hours anyway. Eventually it wore off. I first noticed that my belly (you know, where you should be numb) was itchy. Really really itchy. I told nurse cratchit (my dad named her, not me) about the itchy belly and she made some comment about the hospital buying the cheapest material possible and that it was just the monitors.. they itch. Okay, whatever. Within an hour or two I was feeling full blown contractions and no epidural. They tried twice to give me more medicine, but nope. It just wasn't working. At this point I considered being brave and finishing without it, but then got some reality blown back into my lungs and welcomed the good anstheiologist with open arms. He poked me once. And it took. Like a charm. He gets the gold star, his friend needs to watch him a few times.
12:00 My Dr came back to visit and announced that I hadnt changed much. The baby still wasn't engaged. He was just floating. I wanted to be floating.
Late Afternoon: My Dr. came back around 4 and told me that if things didnt get moving we might be looking at a cesarean. Whereas my first and second labors with the big boys I was all but begging to get out of a delivery, the reality that I might not get to go through one scared me. We got out word to our church to pray. I also started playing worship music over my belly with my iphone and singing to my sweet baby, trying to lure him out. I made a pandora station with the Robbie Seay Band and it pulled up all kinds of great worship... just what we needed. We chose the name Silas because he was a noted worshiper! When he and Paul were in jail, facing persecution... they worshiped. So we worshiped. Around the same time My Mother in law called to check on us. She is a midwife, or was, and has delivered lots and lots of babies. She suggested an exercise for us to try to help Silas turn the right way so he would come out. It involved my husband pulling my lifeless deadwieght legs up into a bent position (on my back, kness bent... got it?) and then helping me open my knees into a butterfly position with each contraction. We tried.. and laughed.. a lot....it was simply hilarious. The lovely nurse came in and (after laughing at us.. really it felt much more like laughing AT us than with us) suggested I sit in the "buddah position." She sat up my bed all the way and they helped me arange my legs in a butterly position. Ahh. Much more comfortable. No more flipping me from side to side like she had been doing all day. Why did you not suggest this hours ago??
It seemed to be helping, all of these efforts. But the real reason we got out of a cesarean?? My dad went to get Whataburger for him mom and Lucas. The same exact thing happened while I was in labor with Balin. Dad went to get lunch (Whataburger) , and as soon as he got back and handed Lucas food it was time to push. No joke. Dad came back with the food and it was time. Whataburger... always brings a crowd :-).
Labor was very different this time from my others. With Ayden and Balin there were crowds of people it seemed. This was so much simpler. So much quieter. There was only the five of us. My Dr., nurse cratchit, Lucas and myself and of course, Silas. Exactly what I wanted for my last baby. Me and his daddy together focused only on him.
I pushed through three contractions and there he was. At 6:57 p.m. His chord was around his neck once, but loose. He was "grunty" and not taking very deep breaths though so after a few short moments they took him away for some time with an oxygen mask.I was scared so another prayer request went out for my sweet babe. I knew God would protect, here or wherever. I knew His plan is perfect, but I longed to have him in my arms. I actually wanted to nurse him. I wanted him with me. Meanwhile the horrid nurse came back and was transitioning me to the next nurse. She had time to make a few more comments about how they called babies like this "wimpy white boys" (if only she knew this kiddos heritage) and also to tell me, a anxious worried new mama who had chosen with her Doctors advice to induce, that "he was just a few days too soon. He needed more time. Did you notice all the lanugo on him? He just wasn't ready." GO AWAY LADY. She was inapropriate, out of line and this is the end of her existence in our story. I was taken by a new, kind nurse, to my post partum room which was very nice. My parents took off to get the big boys since Silas was in the NICU and they couldnt see him anyway.Two hours later he was back in my arms. Perfect. Squashed and bruised, but perfect. He is here and I am fully aware that although there were many anoying and irritating moments to my delivery, this was a really easy labor and delivery. I am thankful for that.
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