Clark Meets The World... Part 2

The last post we left off with the doctor telling me to relax about the possibility of having to go through two more days of unproductive contractions before meeting my son… What an ass!!!

Travis and I headed back to our hospital room to try and get some sleep. He nodded off in a heartbeat, I tossed and turned for a bit and then finally fell off. Around 330 in the morning I woke up to go to the bathroom. I finished in the restroom and get back in bed. Maybe ten minutes later I hear what sounds like someone snapping a rubber band on my skin and feel a thump dead center of my stomach just below my navel. “What the heck was that?” I wonder and get out of bed by pure instinct, and then the water flows….

“Um, Monkey (this is my nickname for Travis), I think my water broke.” He wakes up and groggily says, “What makes you think that?” The reason he asks this and doesn’t
immediately jump out of bed is because I’m like the girl who cried wolf… I had said these five words to him multiple times throughout my pregnancy because (TMI WARNING) you are not able to prepare for the amount of discharge that you will have during pregnancy, you will at one point or another think that your water has broken, when in reality it is just your vagina giving you a little jump start to your day.

I digress, back to his question, “what makes you think that?” “Uh, er, um the puddle of water I’m standing in.” Now he is out of the bed! I didn’t even see him move the blankets or strip of his pjs, he is like Clark Kent in a telephone booth, all I know is that he is at my side fully dressed and all of a sudden the first MIND BLOWING,KNEE BUCKLING, PUNCH YOUR MOTHER IN THE MOUTH CONTRACTION hits. I grab the end of the bed, lean over and say, “HOLY FUCK!!!!” More water… The contraction subsides and I head to the bathroom to remove my soaked pants and underwear and change. No sooner than I get up from the toilet, WHAM!!! Next contraction. This one makes me crossed eyed, my life flashes before my eyes, the room spins… What the fuck have I signed up for? Why in god’s name do people have more than one child?

Travis calls my friend Jamie and tells her to get to the hospital, the water busted, the contractions are started and it is go time! He and I head to the delivery room. As we walk in I say to the midwife, “I think my water broke.” She looks at my soaking wet pants and the trail of amniotic fluid that I’ve left behind in order to find my way home and says, “I think so.”

Jamie walks in. I don’t know how the time seems to be passing so quickly, it is almost 5 and I am having these horrible contractions back to back it seems, they are coming every 3 minutes and they are mother effing relentless. The midwife offers me a large sanitary pad to catch the fluid so that I don’t flood the room, she then hands me a pair of white, throw away, medical panties. These things are quite possibly the ugliest things you could imagine. I immediately put them on and in my “HIGH” from not being in the middle of a contraction proceed to dance and sing, “I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly, I don’t think you’re ready, cause my body’s too bootylishous for ya babe!” While simultaneously rubbing my big ass and baby bump. The midwife, Travis, and Jamie all start laughing hysterically, Jamie snaps a photo… (don’t think you’re getting a view… not gonna happen)

The next contraction hits like a frying pan to the face! I’m bent over the bed, Travis is rubbing my lower back trying to apply counter pressure, I think this is where the BITCH comes in. “Harder!” I snap. He obliges. The contraction is gone. I sit on a medicine ball, and try to go through the next contraction on that, it doesn’t help. Back to the bed on my hands and knees, Travis rubbing my lower back, I am swaying my hips left to right. Jamie steps to my right side, she thinks that I am about to fall off the bed because my knee is so close to the edge. I am trying to breathe through them, they keep coming, the pain is worsening. I am starting to freak out. I have to pee, take me to the bathroom. We walk to the bathroom, Travis, Jamie, Heike (the midwife), and me in my lovely underwear and a tank top. Thank god it is the crack of damn dawn and there isn’t anyone in the hallway to witness this madness. I know for a fact I look like a crazy person. Jamie has been pouring cold water on my neck because I’m so hot, my hair is like medusa, and I’m in
medicinal drawers… MRS. AMERICA HERE I COME!!!

We get to the bathroom, this room is the size of a closet, not a walk in closet, a shoe closet, there are three of us in there and my IV cart, it is hot, it is cramped, and I start another contraction. I then proceed to have an anxiety attack… “Travis, I cannot do this. I want to go home. I will come back tomorrow and try again, I promise. I want to go home.” I use his first name for emphasis, so that he knows that I am serious. He tries to calm me by telling me how awesome I am, how I am already doing such a great job and how he knows that I can get through this. I am pissed. He isn’t listening. I really can’t do this. I look Heike straight in the eye and say, “Heike, I need medicine. Get me the epidural.” She knows that I am serious. I have, for the past 40 hours, turned down every offer of medicinal assistance for this journey, she can see the severity in my face, she heads for the paperwork.

We walk back to the delivery room; another contraction takes my breath away. Heike returns with the paperwork to fill out for the epidural, she hands it to Travis and says, “you need to fill this out with your wife.” He takes the clipboard, another contraction hits, Travis puts the clipboard down to assist me and I snarl, “FILL OUT THE PAPERWORK. NOW!” He withdraws himself from assisting with counter pressure… He fills out the paperwork and takes it back to the midwife. She says, “the anesthesiologist will be here shortly.” I do not believe a word of it, they are never able to make it in “shortly”, they usually take forever.

Within thirty minutes Heike tells me that the doctor is in, he is in the next room going over my chart and will be in to talk to me within minutes. Contraction…

In walks Lurch from the Addams family, this guy has to be 6’9 and skinny skinny skinny. He introduces himself, “Helloooo, my name is Croissant.” I don’t know what catches my attention first, the fact that he is speaking so slowly that he sounds as if he hit up some of the pain meds before making his way down to the delivery room, or the fact that he just said his name is Croissant. I look at Travis, “Did he just say his name is Croissant?” To which Travis replies, “yes, like the breakfast pastry.” I think I might have just died…

Croissant then proceeds to take ten minutes explaining the procedure and the possible side effects or negative results. With each side effect he counters with, “but that isn’t likely.” I’m thinking, “if it isn’t likely, shut the eff up and give me the meds!” He asks if I want to proceed. I am in mid contraction and
grabbing the paperwork to sign it… HELL YEAH I WANT TO!!!!

Next Post… Pain Meds and Delivery…

Clark’s Big Entrance (Part 1)…

We went to the hospital on Thursday the 17th to have a stress test done to check and see if everything was fine with Clark. I had been fighting a headache for the past day and a half and my blood pressure was above normal so the doctors decided that it was time to induce labor.

The German doctors don’t start with Pitocin like they do in
the states, they start with a pill that I can’t remember the name of. So at 2PM on Thursday the 17th they gave me 50mg and put me on a stress test monitor to see if the contractions would start. Within twenty minutes I started to have contractions that were coming every 3 – 5 minutes apart but were still pretty mild. They measured my cervix and told me that it was 1cm, and that it was soft so they didn’t expect the process to take too long, hopefully we would be in full labor by midnight, that Clark would be around on the 18th. Talk about an excited mommy.

Four hours later, they checked again… 1cm, now up the dose to 75mg… This caused stronger contractions coming around 3 minutes apart. These contractions were still bearable by a long shot and so we started to walk the halls of the hospital, up and down the stairwell, through the wards, and back. My really good friend Jamie came and kept me company. The plan was for her to stay through the delivery to help coach me through the rough patches if Travis got tired. So we walked, and walked, and walked.

Another four hours passed, 100mg, more contractions. The contractions were getting stronger and stronger. I tried to make sure that I kept a relaxed face and body so that the contractions could do their job and open the cervix. My mantra was, “good poop face.” I know this is ridiculous, but really, think about it, you cannot tense your jaw up while saying, “good poop face,” it is physically impossible. After another four hours passed they decided no more pills that I should try to get some sleep and we would begin again in the morning. They asked if I wanted pills to stop the contractions so that I could sleep. I figured that would be counterproductive and declined. Off to our room we go. (the best part about the German health system, at least at my hospital, is that they let the husband stay in the room too. Albeit for a fee, but still) It was now 2 in the morning and they wanted us to be back again at 6AM. So as I lay there trying to sleep while contracting every 3 minutes, I
listened to Travis breath heavily in his bed and waited. I remember thinking that today will be the day that I get to meet my little boy… I’m sorry, you just can’t sleep knowing that something so awesome is about to happen. It was like Christmas Eve hopped up on a vile or two of crack.

6AM 18 Nov: off we go from our hospital room to the delivery room for another stress test and another dose of contraction kickers… This time they immediately go to 100mg… the contractions remain the same. Four hours later they give me another 100mg,
this time the contractions pick up in intensity. We repeat this cycle for the rest of the day, every four hours we get another 100mg of meds and the contractions increase. Sometime around 3pm they check to see how far I have dilated… 1cm… I cry… I cannot believe that I have now been in labor, though not tough labor but still labor, for 24 hours and I have not gotten past a single effing centimeter. WTF???

The cycle continues… Midnight comes and they check me for dilation again. Do you want to guess how far I progressed? ZERO, NADA, ZILCH, NOTHING!!!! Still 1cm. ARE YOU SHITTING ME???? I cry some more… The doctor tells me to go get some rest, come back tomorrow morning at 6 and we will begin again. She follows this with a comment that I imagine she thought she was consoling me with, and here is where you realize that some things just don’t translate… She says, “Don’t get discouraged, it takes some women three days of this to get results.” HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!!! I cry harder…

To Be Continued…

Turkey Day!!!

Turkey Day!

I wrote this post on Thanksgiving Day. I am posting on Saturday the 26th. We are celebrating Thanksgiving today though we are thankful everyday for the blessings that the Lord has provided for us.

Last night Clark ate his weight in breast milk. Okay, so not really. He did however eat 280ml of breast milk from 10 until 230 am. His last feeding he ate 130ml in one sitting. He then proceeded to sleep for over five hours. Talk about a food coma… He clearly knows how to start Turkey Day out right!

Speaking of starting Turkey Day out right, one of the long standing traditions in my life is having something go absolutely WRONG on Thanksgiving. It has happened almost every year for as long as I can remember and I am not at ease about the day until it does happen. Here are a few examples of Thanksgiving Day disasters in the past:

1995, Age 14: To me Thanksgiving dinner is not dinner unless
there are sweet potatoes, this year it is my mother’s job to make them to take
to my Grandmother’s house. She fails at time management and doesn’t make them… I refuse to leave our house and go to my grandmother’s because IT IS NOT DINNER WITHOUT SWEET POTATOES!!! (Drama Queen Much???)

My mother left me at home. I called my father in Virginia so that he could talk me through making the things myself. Then I called my mom and told her she could come get me and the sweet potatoes… Life was better.

1999, Age 18: My first year out of the house and my two roommates and I are throwing a huge Thanksgiving for our friends that don’t have family close by (we lived near a military post and there were lots of single soldiers that wanted a good meal). One of my roommates, her boyfriend, and I did all of the cooking except for the bird, that was the third roommates job. So this 3rd roommate would casually come into the kitchen every now and again and check the bird then she would go sit on her but and watch the parade and generally screw off, whilst the rest of us toiled over the stove and in ovens near and far. I am in charge of broccoli casserole, stuffed
mushrooms, mashed potatoes, and SWEET POTATOES…

This year I decide that I am going to make two different batches, the first out of canned yams (the only way I’ve done it since 14) and homemade by boiling sweet potatoes and mashing them, etc. I make them, they are BEAUTIFUL! We set all of the food up in the kitchen because it is getting close to go time, then enters roommate #3… She scurries in, pushes everyone out of the kitchen, and pulls the bird out of the oven. She has not made room to put the bird on the counter beforehand and proceeds to use the pan to shove things aside to make room… A casserole dish hits the floor… I hear roommate #2’s boyfriend say, “Oh Shit! J is going to be mad.”
That’s me, J. “Um, what the hell happened?” Boyfriend: “The sweet potatoes went
down.” The next few minutes are a blur… I am pretty sure I blacked
out from anger and frustration.

Were they the homemade ones? The canned yams? What is going on? Really, you lazy wench? You just shove things out of the way? What the EFF?????

Luckily, they were the canned yams, and the homemade sweet potatoes turned out fabulous. Roommate #3 made it out alive and all was well in the world again.

2000, Age 19: My boyfriend and I live together and we decide to have a small Thanksgiving with just one other couple. We do all of the cooking, they come over for dinner and we are enjoying a few drinks. We set the food out on the microwave
stand and move it closer to the dinner table for easy access. Just before we serve ourselves the cat walks over, jumps up on the microwave stand and directly into the SWEET POTATOES!!! Marshmallows get stuck to her paws, she is running around flapping her paws while simultaneously trying to run for her life because I’m quite sure that I’ve got the butcher knife out swearing to mutilate her tail… I calm down, we clean the cat, and assess whether or not the sweet potatoes are recoverable. They aren’t, we eat the rest of the meal laughing about the misfortune.

2003, Age 22: Basic Training… That should be enough said, right? Wrong! Not only am I in basic training away from my entire family, no I am in the infirmary with the worst case of the flu I’ve ever had. Fever, vomit, sweats, etc. It is awful! I
can’t keep down fluids much less food. Doesn’t look like sweet potatoes are in
my immediate future. Then to top it all off, (TMI WARNING!!! Only proceed if you are twisted like me) the Doc prescribes me a suppository to combat the nausea.
Well that would be all good and well, but come to find out… I am allergic to this thing. So now I’ve got a jelly bullet up my ass that is making it burn to high heaven and I cannot get it out! I’m sitting on the toilet praying to GOD to give me the shits, make me pass out, anything just get this thing out!!!! Needless to say, I got it out! I won’t go into details…

There are many more thanksgiving day “bloopers” in our family history but I will save those for another time…

However, the one true and solid turkey day tradition that will last a lifetime is the tossing of sweet potatoes on the floor. We now take a single spoon full
of sweet potatoes as soon as they come out of the oven and drop it on the floor. This is our way of taking the mess into our own hands. It may not keep us from gaining new and interesting stories to add to our collection of Thanksgiving Day blunders, because realistically speaking any holiday that includes lots of food and drink, extended family, friends and fun will ultimately have a snafu or funny tale to go along with it, and for that I am Thankful!!

But most of all, I am thankful for my little family, I have the best husband anyone could ever hope for, we are blessed to have the sweetest little boy to love and cherish, we’ve got our second son Buddy that loves us unconditionally, and we have our health. I am thankful for an all knowing and caring GOD that has carried us through the past week and given us hope and courage when we were truly in the dark about our little boy’s health. I am thankful for the friends and family that
surrounded us with love and prayers when we needed it most. I am truly thankful!!

Hopefully today will be our last full day and night in the hospital and they will give us early release for good behavior tomorrow. Then we can celebrate our Thanksgiving on Saturday.For this year’s Thanksgiving we might not be eating the
traditional Thanksgiving dinner, but we are spending the day together as a family and that is all that matters to us!

We even brought “National Lampoons: Christmas Vacation” to watch
together as a family. Watching that movie on Thanksgiving has become one of our traditions over the past few years. It starts off the holiday season and gets us ready to decorate the Christmas tree. The Christmas decorations will come out on Sunday, the tree will go up, and hopefully we will get a few good photos of our family gathered near it this year.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Clark Made His Debut!!!

Clark made his debut on Saturday the 19th of November at 12:47pm. He was 8lbs 7oz, 22 inchces long! He is my little viking!

We have had a very interesting and eventful start to our new family, I will post the entire saga as soon as I am able.

J

Still no baby

So Clark's "medical" due date, based on the first day of the last menstral cycle, was on Saturday and he was a no show... I know for a fact that he was conceived on the 22nd of Feb because I was charting my monthly cycle, so his actual due date is TODAY!!!

He still has not made too many signals of wanting to make an appearance. Fingers crossed he will get it together and come soon, I am starting to get impatient.