While I was pregnant, I read everything I could about baby sleep schedules. Three friends recommended Becoming Baby Wise and two of them actually gave us the book. Hubby and I didn't know anything about taking care of babies, but the one thing we agreed on, and were determined to do, was to get baby on some sort of schedule as soon as possible. (And hopefully get baby sleeping through the night as soon as possible.)
In the hospital, they had us nursing every three hours. It didn't seem like a big deal in the hospital, because the nurses were always in the room every couple hours anyway. So every three hours we'd nurse, or we'd wake up to nurse, or when they brought the baby back from doing tests, we'd nurse.
We continued this routine when we got home. I set multiple alarms on my phone so that throughout the night, I could wake up and nurse.
One night, during a particularly rough evening (looking back now, we know that it was a growth spurt) baby fussed and fussed for hours until he finally zonked out. We knew he had to be exhausted, and we were exhausted, too. He ended up sleeping for five hours - right through a feeding. I felt so bad for stalling a feeding, but felt like he needed to sleep, too!
Imagine our surprise (and relief!) when, at his two week appointment, the pediatrician said to let him go and just feed on demand. That included letting him sleep longer at night.
After about four weeks, I stopped breastfeeding and started with formula. Baby pretty much kept up with the same every-three-hours routine on his own... until he didn't!
At around 7 weeks old, we put him down for bed around 11 p.m. We woke up around 2 a.m. to a cry... Not the usual "FEED ME, I'M STARVING!" cry, just one of those talking in his sleep kind of cries. So, hubby got up and just gave him a pacifier.
Hubby was able to go right back to sleep. Me, on the other hand, I tossed and turned, just waiting. I figured baby would be up and crying in no time. I kept looking at the clock, counting the hours from his last feeding. He'd gone four, maybe five, hours before, and I figured he'd wake up again any minute. I was all ready to go and had the bottle and formula all set up in the master bathroom for when the time came.
At around 6 a.m. hubby and I both found ourselves lying there awake. I managed to get some sleep, but it wasn't peaceful at all. I kept worrying that baby was going to wake up screaming his head off from hunger. "Should we go check on him?" hubby asked.
We rushed into his room, and there he was in the bassinet, eyes open, blinking up at us. Just chillin'.
So, we consider that "sleeping through the night." He goes to bed around 10 p.m. (and then mama and daddy go to bed!) and sleeps 'til about 6 a.m. Sometimes a little earlier, sometimes a little later. We didn't do any specific sleep training, we didn't really apply any of the Baby Wise methods, except maybe for the "dream feed" - a couple extra ounces of formula right before we all go to bed.
In What To Expect, the athors say that babies are metabolically ready to sleep through the night at eleven pounds, and little guy is right around there. So I guess he just decided to do it himself. Hubby and I have said we could probably get up and stay up when we do his first morning bottle, but that hasn't happened yet. We do a bottle and then go back to bed for another 3 hours. (Sometimes more!) We're enjoying any sleep we can get.
Me, especially.
As much as we were hoping to get baby to sleep through the night quickly, it has definitely stressed me out. We've had a couple bumps in the road (company visiting, 2 month shots) that set us back for a couple days, but for the most part, baby still sleeps a big, long chunk.
And I don't.
I wake up and look at the clock. I either worry that it's been a long time and he'll wake up crying, or I worry that it's been a long time and that we haven't heard from him - so is he okay?! Then I wake myself up again a couple hours later and look at the clock. I worry that the baby will wake up. So I toss and turn some more, thinking, "Keep going, baby! Stay asleep, baby!"
I'm getting better about it, now that I'm used to him sleeping for so long at night. I'm still not sleeping all that great, but a glass of wine or some cookies and milk before bed kind of helps.
The baby, however... He sleeps like a baby!
How long before your baby slept through the night? As a new mom, did you have any trouble sleeping?
7/31/2015
7/20/2015
About Bath Time
Starting with his newborn sponge baths, Jacob did not seem to like bath time at all. I don't think I'd like being wiped down in a tub on my dining room table, either. I've read about how bath time is supposed to be a great addition to your bedtime routine because it's so relaxing and soothing for your baby. It wasn't very relaxing for Jacob, but we eventually figured out a few tricks that made bath time a little bit more bearable, and finally, even enjoyable.
1. Make sure you have everything ready to go before you get your baby naked. This means make sure you have your water at the right temperature, make sure you soap and washcloths are handy, and have a couple towels ready to dry your baby off.
2. Warm your towels up in the dryer. It dawned on me that even though Jacob was covered with his little bath cozy after being wiped down, he was still basically out in the open and was probably a little chilly. So while we washed him, I threw his towels in the dryer. When his bath was over, one of us would go grab the towels and wrap him up. It kept him from having a melt down.
3. When we finally started giving him real baths, we opted to move things into the downstairs bathroom. We have a giant farm sink and Jacob's Boon Naked tub fits perfectly in it, but I was worried about him being cold and wet. In the bathroom, I made sure to have all of the bath stuff ready, and I decided to steam up the bathroom and make it nice and warm before he even got in there. Bath time for Jacob is now unlike any spa experience I've ever had - Cozy, steamy room... Warm towels... But hey, whatever works.
4. The bath cozy does more than keep baby warm during the bath - if you have a boy, it becomes a pee shield. I've set Jacob down in a tub full of warm water and had him immediately turn into a pee fountain. You can also use an extra wash cloth, too.
5. Use a baby bath tub thermometer. We actually have three of these, but this rubber duck is the one I prefer because it comes on automatically in the tub and it's so easy to read the screen.
6. Have all of your post-bath stuff ready to go before you finish. I always have a diaper, Rear Schmear, pajamas, and socks laid out on the changing table so that when we finish drying Jacob off, we don't have to waste any time and can diaper and dress him immediately.
Do you have any bath time tips or tricks to share?
1. Make sure you have everything ready to go before you get your baby naked. This means make sure you have your water at the right temperature, make sure you soap and washcloths are handy, and have a couple towels ready to dry your baby off.
2. Warm your towels up in the dryer. It dawned on me that even though Jacob was covered with his little bath cozy after being wiped down, he was still basically out in the open and was probably a little chilly. So while we washed him, I threw his towels in the dryer. When his bath was over, one of us would go grab the towels and wrap him up. It kept him from having a melt down.
3. When we finally started giving him real baths, we opted to move things into the downstairs bathroom. We have a giant farm sink and Jacob's Boon Naked tub fits perfectly in it, but I was worried about him being cold and wet. In the bathroom, I made sure to have all of the bath stuff ready, and I decided to steam up the bathroom and make it nice and warm before he even got in there. Bath time for Jacob is now unlike any spa experience I've ever had - Cozy, steamy room... Warm towels... But hey, whatever works.
4. The bath cozy does more than keep baby warm during the bath - if you have a boy, it becomes a pee shield. I've set Jacob down in a tub full of warm water and had him immediately turn into a pee fountain. You can also use an extra wash cloth, too.
5. Use a baby bath tub thermometer. We actually have three of these, but this rubber duck is the one I prefer because it comes on automatically in the tub and it's so easy to read the screen.
6. Have all of your post-bath stuff ready to go before you finish. I always have a diaper, Rear Schmear, pajamas, and socks laid out on the changing table so that when we finish drying Jacob off, we don't have to waste any time and can diaper and dress him immediately.
Do you have any bath time tips or tricks to share?
6/08/2015
About Having a C-Section
I went into labor on the morning of Memorial Day and was admitted to the hospital that afternoon. I was slow to progress and it didn't look like I'd be having the baby until sometime the next day. I opted to have the epidural that night so that I could get some sleep before the big event. (Because you can totally sleep with nurses coming in and IV alarms going off every couple hours.)
Sometime around one o'clock in the afternoon, I finally made it to ten centimeters. I started pushing, and it didn't seem like it was all that bad. I felt like I could do it, and I could definitely tell that the baby was moving lower. However, the nurse became a little concerned about something on the monitors and had me push for a contraction, then sit out the next contraction. She gave me oxygen to wear in between pushes, too. When the doctor came in to check me out, she explained that every time I pushed, the baby's heart rate dipped. She had me push a few more times in different positions and then finally broke the news that the baby's head just wasn't making it into my pelvis. She told me that I could either continue to push, or that I could go in for an emergency C-section. She said that if I opted to push, I could push for a few more hours and still not get anywhere and would end up needing a C-section anyway, or I could have the C-section and the baby would be spared any more possible distress.
I asked her how long it would take. I meant the actual surgery. She told me that there was an OR open, and that we could be in there in about ten minutes.
That wasn't what I meant, and that kind of scared the crap out of me.
She then clarified that they would have the baby out within three minutes, and that it would take about twenty-five minutes to stitch me up.
She gave us a few minutes to talk about it. Relieved to be able to do something to keep the baby safe and healthy, and awed at the fact that we'd have him in our arms in like half an hour, we decided to go for the C-section.
I had a weird sense of "Whew! I guess my part is over!" but of course, I still had a long way to go. On one hand, I was relieved. No kidding... the thought "YES! No episiotomy!" crossed my mind. On the other hand, I was terrified at the thought of being wide awake while I was sliced open and having a baby pulled out of me.
It didn't help that I'd just finished reading a book where the main character was threatened with surgery without anesthesia.
As they wheeled me into the OR and transferred me to the table, I kind of felt like I was being laid out on a crucifix, with my arms stretched out to my sides. The radio was on, and Rihanna was playing. The drape went up so that I couldn't see the doctors or nurses getting ready, and the anesthesiologist shot something into my epidural line that flooded my veins with icy cold liquid. The doctor said she was going to poke me to test the anesthesia and make sure I was numb.
Except I wasn't. I felt every single pinch and poke, and "ow!"ed to let them know it. That book I'd read really didn't help. I like to think I can handle some pain, but this didn't seem like the time to play tough girl, so I told the anesthesiologist and doctor that I felt everything. The anesthesiologist looked down at me in disbelief. "Really? Did you feel the pokes or just pressure?"
"The pokes. Metal pokes. It pinched."
"Like... On a scale of 1-10?"
"Probably a 4 or 5."
The doctor leaned around the drape. "So it felt like getting a shot?"
"Uh, yeah. Kinda."
She looked at the anesthesiologist and told him to give me another dose of meds. One of the nurses said my husband was outside, but the anesthesiologist told her to wait to make sure I didn't need to be put to sleep.
That was comforting to hear.
Thankfully, the drugs worked and my husband was brought in to be by my side. The anesthesiologist peered over the drape and told us that they'd already started cutting. All I could think was, "Good... I didn't feel a thing."
Now, friends told me, and I'd read that during a C-section, you really don't feel any pain, but you feel pressure. Holy cow, the pressure. I could feel them yanking my lower body around like crazy. I could hear metal instruments clanging together. I heard them say something about my muscles and my bladder. I squeezed my eyes shut, reminding myself that the doctor said it only took three minutes to get the baby out. It seemed like THE LONGEST THREE MINUTES EVER.
A couple times, my husband got up to peer over the drape. I didn't want him on the receiving end of a normal delivery, and I definitely didn't want him to see my insides laid out on the table, but he wanted to see what was taking so long. Apparently, they had a tough time getting through my muscles and my bladder was swollen so they were trying to be extra careful. He kept asking if it hurt, and I kept squeezing my eyes shut.
I have no idea how long it took them to get the baby out, but time just seemed like it crawled. Finally, I felt a strange pulling sensation in my middle - like a ton of suction. "Is that him? That was him, right? That had to be him." I said.
I heard our son cry, and finally, I relaxed. As much as you can relax knowing that there's a team of people sopping up your blood and stitching you back together. They called out his birth at 2:28 p.m. He weighed 8 pounds, 3 ounces, and was 21 inches long. He looked HUGE when the nurse held him up for us to see. I cried when I saw his full head of hair.
They handed him to my husband, who lowered him down to my face so that I could "cuddle" with him while they stitched me up. It probably took 45 minutes to an hour for them to put me back together. And then, when it was over, it was over. They whisked the drape away, transferred me back to the bed, sat me up, handed me the baby, and we were headed back to the room. Just like that.
What was your C-section experience like?
Sometime around one o'clock in the afternoon, I finally made it to ten centimeters. I started pushing, and it didn't seem like it was all that bad. I felt like I could do it, and I could definitely tell that the baby was moving lower. However, the nurse became a little concerned about something on the monitors and had me push for a contraction, then sit out the next contraction. She gave me oxygen to wear in between pushes, too. When the doctor came in to check me out, she explained that every time I pushed, the baby's heart rate dipped. She had me push a few more times in different positions and then finally broke the news that the baby's head just wasn't making it into my pelvis. She told me that I could either continue to push, or that I could go in for an emergency C-section. She said that if I opted to push, I could push for a few more hours and still not get anywhere and would end up needing a C-section anyway, or I could have the C-section and the baby would be spared any more possible distress.
I asked her how long it would take. I meant the actual surgery. She told me that there was an OR open, and that we could be in there in about ten minutes.
That wasn't what I meant, and that kind of scared the crap out of me.
She then clarified that they would have the baby out within three minutes, and that it would take about twenty-five minutes to stitch me up.
She gave us a few minutes to talk about it. Relieved to be able to do something to keep the baby safe and healthy, and awed at the fact that we'd have him in our arms in like half an hour, we decided to go for the C-section.
I had a weird sense of "Whew! I guess my part is over!" but of course, I still had a long way to go. On one hand, I was relieved. No kidding... the thought "YES! No episiotomy!" crossed my mind. On the other hand, I was terrified at the thought of being wide awake while I was sliced open and having a baby pulled out of me.
It didn't help that I'd just finished reading a book where the main character was threatened with surgery without anesthesia.
As they wheeled me into the OR and transferred me to the table, I kind of felt like I was being laid out on a crucifix, with my arms stretched out to my sides. The radio was on, and Rihanna was playing. The drape went up so that I couldn't see the doctors or nurses getting ready, and the anesthesiologist shot something into my epidural line that flooded my veins with icy cold liquid. The doctor said she was going to poke me to test the anesthesia and make sure I was numb.
Except I wasn't. I felt every single pinch and poke, and "ow!"ed to let them know it. That book I'd read really didn't help. I like to think I can handle some pain, but this didn't seem like the time to play tough girl, so I told the anesthesiologist and doctor that I felt everything. The anesthesiologist looked down at me in disbelief. "Really? Did you feel the pokes or just pressure?"
"The pokes. Metal pokes. It pinched."
"Like... On a scale of 1-10?"
"Probably a 4 or 5."
The doctor leaned around the drape. "So it felt like getting a shot?"
"Uh, yeah. Kinda."
She looked at the anesthesiologist and told him to give me another dose of meds. One of the nurses said my husband was outside, but the anesthesiologist told her to wait to make sure I didn't need to be put to sleep.
That was comforting to hear.
Thankfully, the drugs worked and my husband was brought in to be by my side. The anesthesiologist peered over the drape and told us that they'd already started cutting. All I could think was, "Good... I didn't feel a thing."
Now, friends told me, and I'd read that during a C-section, you really don't feel any pain, but you feel pressure. Holy cow, the pressure. I could feel them yanking my lower body around like crazy. I could hear metal instruments clanging together. I heard them say something about my muscles and my bladder. I squeezed my eyes shut, reminding myself that the doctor said it only took three minutes to get the baby out. It seemed like THE LONGEST THREE MINUTES EVER.
A couple times, my husband got up to peer over the drape. I didn't want him on the receiving end of a normal delivery, and I definitely didn't want him to see my insides laid out on the table, but he wanted to see what was taking so long. Apparently, they had a tough time getting through my muscles and my bladder was swollen so they were trying to be extra careful. He kept asking if it hurt, and I kept squeezing my eyes shut.
I have no idea how long it took them to get the baby out, but time just seemed like it crawled. Finally, I felt a strange pulling sensation in my middle - like a ton of suction. "Is that him? That was him, right? That had to be him." I said.
I heard our son cry, and finally, I relaxed. As much as you can relax knowing that there's a team of people sopping up your blood and stitching you back together. They called out his birth at 2:28 p.m. He weighed 8 pounds, 3 ounces, and was 21 inches long. He looked HUGE when the nurse held him up for us to see. I cried when I saw his full head of hair.
They handed him to my husband, who lowered him down to my face so that I could "cuddle" with him while they stitched me up. It probably took 45 minutes to an hour for them to put me back together. And then, when it was over, it was over. They whisked the drape away, transferred me back to the bed, sat me up, handed me the baby, and we were headed back to the room. Just like that.
What was your C-section experience like?
6/01/2015
About What We Took To The Hospital (And What We Brought Home!)
After the premature labor scare, we made sure that we did everything we could to be ready for when baby really did decide to show up.
Birth plan written. Nursery finished. Car seat installed and inspected. Baby clothes washed. Bags packed. My bag, daddy's bag, and the baby's bag.
I'd scoured the Internet, studying multiple hospital bag checklists. I asked friends on Facebook for their input. Here's what we ended up packing:
My bag:
Pillows from home.
Nightgown.
Yoga socks (with rubber grippies on the bottom.)
Always Infinity Plus overnight pads.
Underwear and nursing bra.
Toiletries.
Freezer pops.
T-shirt dress to go home in.
Flip-flops.
Birthing ball.
Daddy's bag:
Pillow.
Clothes to sleep in.
Clothes to wear during the day.
iPads, camera, phone chargers, all the electronic stuff.
Snacks.
Toiletries.
Lots of spare change.
Copy of the birth plan.
Baby's bag:
A couple newborn and 0-3 month outfits. (Wasn't sure how big he'd be.)
We left the rest of his bag empty because we knew we'd be bringing stuff home.
Copy of the birth plan. (Seriously, we had copies of that thing stashed everywhere.)
What did I really end up using? My nightgown, pillows, toiletries, and Freezer Pops. I wore my socks once, until I got blood on them.
It was nice to have my own nightgown instead of dealing with all the strings and ties on the hospital gowns. Some of the packing lists that I'd checked out on the Internet suggested bringing your own towels, hair dryer, and makeup. I didn't care about the quality of the towels - I was just grateful to scrape the grunge off and get back in bed. Hair dryer and makeup? My hair was in a ponytail the whole time. I might have brushed it the morning we checked out.
Thank goodness for my own pillows. I think it's the only way I was able to get comfortable and get any sleep. I used the hospital pillows as supports for when I was nursing.
Bringing my own pads and underwear? Ha. The mesh granny panties and ginormous hospital pillow pads are where it's at. I asked for (and received) an extra stash before we left.
The birthing ball sounded like a great idea when we were at our childbirth class. I was so comfortable sitting and gently bouncing on it. But when I was in labor - any pressure on my lower back/butt was no good. Plus we'd already packed so much stuff that I couldn't imagine daddy making any more trips back and forth to the car.
Daddy ended up using most of his stuff. He was smart and pre-wrote an e-mail letting friends and family about the baby's arrival. He did a great job at running all communication (phone, texts, e-mails) until I felt like dealing with it. All he had to do was plug in the time, weight, and length and hit send. He used the spare change for snacks and to buy a newspaper with the date baby was born.
Baby ended up coming home in a 0-3 month shirt and hat. Most of what the hospital put him in was 0-3 months. Little man kind of skipped right over the newborn clothes.
What did we bring home from the hospital?
All of my postpartum supplies. Any opened packages of diapers and wipes. Two nose bulbs. Saline drops. 4 or 5 baby blankets. Two water pitchers/mugs. (They were huge and I was thirsty!) Two tabletop personal fans. (I'd had serious night sweats and was dying, plus the nurses said once they were opened, they wouldn't get reused!)
And of course, we brought home one perfect, healthy baby boy!
What items did you just have to take to (or bring home from) the hospital?
Birth plan written. Nursery finished. Car seat installed and inspected. Baby clothes washed. Bags packed. My bag, daddy's bag, and the baby's bag.
I'd scoured the Internet, studying multiple hospital bag checklists. I asked friends on Facebook for their input. Here's what we ended up packing:
My bag:
Pillows from home.
Nightgown.
Yoga socks (with rubber grippies on the bottom.)
Always Infinity Plus overnight pads.
Underwear and nursing bra.
Toiletries.
Freezer pops.
T-shirt dress to go home in.
Flip-flops.
Birthing ball.
Copy of the birth plan.
Daddy's bag:
Pillow.
Clothes to sleep in.
Clothes to wear during the day.
iPads, camera, phone chargers, all the electronic stuff.
Snacks.
Toiletries.
Lots of spare change.
Copy of the birth plan.
A couple newborn and 0-3 month outfits. (Wasn't sure how big he'd be.)
We left the rest of his bag empty because we knew we'd be bringing stuff home.
Copy of the birth plan. (Seriously, we had copies of that thing stashed everywhere.)
What did I really end up using? My nightgown, pillows, toiletries, and Freezer Pops. I wore my socks once, until I got blood on them.
It was nice to have my own nightgown instead of dealing with all the strings and ties on the hospital gowns. Some of the packing lists that I'd checked out on the Internet suggested bringing your own towels, hair dryer, and makeup. I didn't care about the quality of the towels - I was just grateful to scrape the grunge off and get back in bed. Hair dryer and makeup? My hair was in a ponytail the whole time. I might have brushed it the morning we checked out.
Thank goodness for my own pillows. I think it's the only way I was able to get comfortable and get any sleep. I used the hospital pillows as supports for when I was nursing.
Bringing my own pads and underwear? Ha. The mesh granny panties and ginormous hospital pillow pads are where it's at. I asked for (and received) an extra stash before we left.
The birthing ball sounded like a great idea when we were at our childbirth class. I was so comfortable sitting and gently bouncing on it. But when I was in labor - any pressure on my lower back/butt was no good. Plus we'd already packed so much stuff that I couldn't imagine daddy making any more trips back and forth to the car.
Daddy ended up using most of his stuff. He was smart and pre-wrote an e-mail letting friends and family about the baby's arrival. He did a great job at running all communication (phone, texts, e-mails) until I felt like dealing with it. All he had to do was plug in the time, weight, and length and hit send. He used the spare change for snacks and to buy a newspaper with the date baby was born.
Baby ended up coming home in a 0-3 month shirt and hat. Most of what the hospital put him in was 0-3 months. Little man kind of skipped right over the newborn clothes.
What did we bring home from the hospital?
All of my postpartum supplies. Any opened packages of diapers and wipes. Two nose bulbs. Saline drops. 4 or 5 baby blankets. Two water pitchers/mugs. (They were huge and I was thirsty!) Two tabletop personal fans. (I'd had serious night sweats and was dying, plus the nurses said once they were opened, they wouldn't get reused!)
And of course, we brought home one perfect, healthy baby boy!
What items did you just have to take to (or bring home from) the hospital?
5/26/2015
About Our Boy
Jacob was born at 2:28 p.m. on May 26, 2015.
He weighed 8 pounds, 3 ounces and was 21 inches long.
He weighed 8 pounds, 3 ounces and was 21 inches long.
4/08/2015
About Premature Labor (33 weeks pregnant)
Yesterday, I woke up before the alarm clock as usual. I sat up in bed and rubbed my lower belly. I felt sore and tender and it hurt to slide out of bed. I had recently recovered from the flu, but I was still working on healing the broken ribs I'd gotten from coughing during the flu. I waddled to the bathroom, did what I needed to do, and got back into bed. I figured I would try to go back to sleep before getting up for work, and reset my alarm to go off a little later.
I couldn't get comfortable. I tried to lay on my left side, I tried to prop myself up, and nothing worked. My ribs hurt, my stomach hurt, and I wasn't sure how I could get up out of bed again, let alone spend the day on my feet at work.
I stayed in bed, reached for my iPhone, and used it to search on Amazon for a belly support belt. I was thinking that maybe because my belly was so big, things were just starting to get heavy and sore. I ordered the belly belt and paid extra for the same-day shipping. Then I got out of bed and struggled to get dressed.
I packed my bag full of drinks, snacks, and my lunch for the day and made my way to the door, thinking that maybe now that I was up and moving, I would start to feel better. I walked to work (I teach at a school that's right at the end of my street!) very slowly, and the pain seemed to get worse. I wasn't sure I was going to last the whole day.
I had almost made it to my classroom when our head custodian caught up with me to talk to me. I continued walking, afraid to stop in case I couldn't get moving again. The custodian noticed the pained look on my face and asked if I was okay. I told him I thought that I was just sore and uncomfortable from being so close to the end of my pregnancy. Then out of nowhere, the tears came.
As he hugged me, one of my fellow teachers walked by. She stopped to see what was going on, and then walked with me the rest of the way to my classroom. After I had gotten seated, calmed down, and taken a few deep breaths, she joked, "You're not going into labor, are you?"
I shook my head and explained my theory about just being very pregnant and very uncomfortable. After she left, the bell rang and students started coming in. I found that it hurt to sit, it hurt to stand, and for some reason, it even felt like it hurt to talk. When another fellow teacher came in the room, she took one look at me and asked me what I was doing at school.
Suddenly, the pain seemed like it got much more intense. I told her that I needed to go home, and asked if she would drive me, even though I lived maybe 1/10 of a mile away. I texted my husband: "Don't be alarmed, but I'm really hurting and I'm going home. I'm going to call the doctor." He immediately wrote back and asked if I wanted him to come home. I said yes.
The students went to their first period class, and we headed out to the parking lot. I could barely hoist myself up and get seated in her minivan. Getting down was just as bad. When we got to my house, she helped me get situated on the couch. She waited with me for a few minutes and then headed back to school. I called my doctor's office and requested an appointment. The earliest they could get me in was 11 a.m.
I sat on the couch, waiting for my husband to arrive. For a minute or two, the pain seemed like it got really bad - and then it stopped. Then it happened again a little later. I thought it was strange. The next time the pain intensified, I looked at the clock. 9:49. When it happened again at 9:59, I started to get nervous. My husband came home, and when the pain came back at 10:09, I had to try not to cry. At 10:19, I whispered, "I think I might be having contractions."
At the doctor's office, the pain seemed like it subsided a bit. I had an ultrasound, and the technician seemed to think everything looked okay. However, when I mentioned that I thought I'd been having contractions, the doctor sent me to a room to be hooked up to a fetal monitor. The nurse that hooked me up to the monitor handed me a button to press every time I felt the baby move. "Every time? Seriously?" Yup. So I started pressing the button like crazy, because the baby was always moving around a lot!
My husband and I nervously watched the printout come streaming out of the monitor. We could see each squiggle that corresponded with the baby's every movement. When the doctor popped in to take a look, she seemed relieved. Then she picked up the printout and slid the long strip of paper through her hands, her brow furrowed. She studied the monitor and all of the buttons and switches before she noticed that one of the plugs hadn't been pushed in all the way. She told me I'd have to sit for another ten minutes or so, because the sensor that monitored my contractions wasn't plugged in properly, and she really wanted to get an observation.
As soon as she left, my husband and I started watching the printout for another line. Sure enough, I felt a twinge of pain, and the line on the printout started to go up. There was another... And another...
When the doctor came back a few minutes later, she didn't even need to look at the chart. "You are having contractions," she said, helping me sit up and taking the monitor off. "So you need to go to the hospital. I will let them know you're coming. They will admit you and give you IV fluids to stop the contractions..."
That was all I needed to hear and I fell apart. She assured me that I'd be fine and that the fluids would help rehydrate me, which would in turn calm the contractions. My husband and I headed straight home, grabbed a few things, and then hurried for our first visit to the maternity floor at Sibley Memorial Hospital.
I was admitted, taken to a room, gowned up, hooked up to a fetal monitor again, and had an IV inserted in no time. We sat there for hours. My husband stared at the monitor, asking me if I felt each contraction as they peaked on the screen. I didn't need to look at the monitor to know that I was still having contractions, and that despite all the fluids, they were coming faster and getting worse.
I figured that if anything was going to happen, at least we were in the hospital and the baby and I would be taken care of. I wasn't worried about having the baby right then and there - I was worried about all the other stuff. The nursery's not done. We haven't been to any of our childbirth or baby care classes yet! The car seat hasn't been installed. THE BABY DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A NAME YET!
Later that night, the on call doctor finally decided to give me a drug that would stop the contractions. I had to take three pills, one every twenty minutes. By the time I took the second pill, the contractions had eased up. By the time I took the third pill, I couldn't feel anything at all. I was given a steroid shot to beef up the baby's lungs in case he decided to show up early after all, but was told that I could go home and that I had to take it easy for a week or so - modified bed rest.
When we got home, I took a shower and had a bowl of cereal. It was the only thing I'd had to eat all day except for an Italian ice in the hospital. I crashed on the couch and my husband slept by me on the floor.
I was exhausted. My whole entire body hurt. I'd survived twelve hours of contractions.
I felt like I'd been hit by a train and I didn't even have the baby. What was I going to feel like when I DID deliver?!
Have any of you had any scary pregnancy problems?
At the doctor's office, the pain seemed like it subsided a bit. I had an ultrasound, and the technician seemed to think everything looked okay. However, when I mentioned that I thought I'd been having contractions, the doctor sent me to a room to be hooked up to a fetal monitor. The nurse that hooked me up to the monitor handed me a button to press every time I felt the baby move. "Every time? Seriously?" Yup. So I started pressing the button like crazy, because the baby was always moving around a lot!
My husband and I nervously watched the printout come streaming out of the monitor. We could see each squiggle that corresponded with the baby's every movement. When the doctor popped in to take a look, she seemed relieved. Then she picked up the printout and slid the long strip of paper through her hands, her brow furrowed. She studied the monitor and all of the buttons and switches before she noticed that one of the plugs hadn't been pushed in all the way. She told me I'd have to sit for another ten minutes or so, because the sensor that monitored my contractions wasn't plugged in properly, and she really wanted to get an observation.
As soon as she left, my husband and I started watching the printout for another line. Sure enough, I felt a twinge of pain, and the line on the printout started to go up. There was another... And another...
When the doctor came back a few minutes later, she didn't even need to look at the chart. "You are having contractions," she said, helping me sit up and taking the monitor off. "So you need to go to the hospital. I will let them know you're coming. They will admit you and give you IV fluids to stop the contractions..."
That was all I needed to hear and I fell apart. She assured me that I'd be fine and that the fluids would help rehydrate me, which would in turn calm the contractions. My husband and I headed straight home, grabbed a few things, and then hurried for our first visit to the maternity floor at Sibley Memorial Hospital.
I was admitted, taken to a room, gowned up, hooked up to a fetal monitor again, and had an IV inserted in no time. We sat there for hours. My husband stared at the monitor, asking me if I felt each contraction as they peaked on the screen. I didn't need to look at the monitor to know that I was still having contractions, and that despite all the fluids, they were coming faster and getting worse.
I figured that if anything was going to happen, at least we were in the hospital and the baby and I would be taken care of. I wasn't worried about having the baby right then and there - I was worried about all the other stuff. The nursery's not done. We haven't been to any of our childbirth or baby care classes yet! The car seat hasn't been installed. THE BABY DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A NAME YET!
Later that night, the on call doctor finally decided to give me a drug that would stop the contractions. I had to take three pills, one every twenty minutes. By the time I took the second pill, the contractions had eased up. By the time I took the third pill, I couldn't feel anything at all. I was given a steroid shot to beef up the baby's lungs in case he decided to show up early after all, but was told that I could go home and that I had to take it easy for a week or so - modified bed rest.
When we got home, I took a shower and had a bowl of cereal. It was the only thing I'd had to eat all day except for an Italian ice in the hospital. I crashed on the couch and my husband slept by me on the floor.
I was exhausted. My whole entire body hurt. I'd survived twelve hours of contractions.
I felt like I'd been hit by a train and I didn't even have the baby. What was I going to feel like when I DID deliver?!
Have any of you had any scary pregnancy problems?
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