Baby Beckham's Birth Story

After the failed induction and a day of rest, Thursday morning came faster than I thought it would. Immediately after I got up, I started throwing up--probably from nerves, but this whole process was a whirlwind; it was just weighing on me so bad.

There was so much uncertainty.

Was he going to be OK?
Was I going to be OK?
Were we going to be able to deliver him vaginally?
Were we going to make it through all this without having a C-section?
How was I going to handle the pain?
How was he going to tolerate labor again?

There were so many unanswered questions that made me worried and fearful. It was overwhelming. I just wanted to get the ball rolling. If we were going to do this, I wanted to go for it and give it our best shot to get him out naturally.

That was my mind frame--let's get this done.

They wheeled me down about 7 a.m. or so and put another cytotec in my cervix to try to soften it one more time before starting me on pitocin.

I started contracting again, but not as much as I did the first day. They weren't bad contractions, at least not to me, just like menstrual cramps.

I started the day at a 2 and long, so my cervix hadn't completely softened yet, but I was much further now than I was two days prior, so that was good.

When my doc got me going on pitocin around noon or so, the contractions picked up and I started to dilate a little more. Things were finally progressing.

My nurse would ask how the contractions were and honestly they weren't really bothering me. They were uncomfortable and slowly getting stronger, but I kept saying "I just hope I'm a bad ass with a high pain tolerance and that's why they aren't bothering me that much."

By around 7 or so that night, my doc came down and checked my cervix again. This time I was 4 and 75% effaced, so almost fully thinned out. She knew that when I finally thinned all the way out, he would come pretty fast.

She decided to break my water. I was actually surprised with each vaginal check how much I wasn't bothered by her shoving her hand up there. I remember when she broke my water with Brody, it hurt. This time, I was like "ehh, it's not bad at all." I think it's all in your mind frame.

I knew I was doing this on my own. My anesthesiologists were planning to give me pain meds through an IV to help take some of the edge off when I wanted it.

I hadn't asked for it this whole time, because I didn't feel like I needed it. But finally they hooked me up to a PCA so I could push a button when I wanted it. But I never really pushed the button. I kept forgetting. And it wasn't helping me even when I would.

They were supposed to double my dose as I progressed and then give me some other pain med when my contractions really kicked in, but by the time this baby started coming I didn't have any of that. It was all natural.

When I started to have to really breathe through my contractions, Klay would be over there pushing that button, trying to get me meds, but I had to sit there and tell him "it's not helping." LOL. He'd say, "push the button!" He was worried, but I hadn't even gotten to the hard part yet.

I had about 30 minutes of pretty bad pain. And of those 30 minutes, 10-15 were extremely painful, but man, those last two contractions were brutal.

Not too long later, my doc came running in when she saw the baby's heart rate dip. Apparently that's a sign they are getting ready to come down the birth canal.

She checked me and I was a 6 almost 7 and she started gearing up.

That's when I really started hurting. I was turned on my side, legs clinched and grabbing onto the bed rails for dear life.

I started to think I couldn't do this if it was going to take much longer. But I could barely get any thought or words out because the pain was insane. If I could describe it, it felt like a watermelon on fire with razor blades forcing its way down and out of your body.

I started to feel the urge to push and I hollered "I gotta push!!!!" so they'd call the NICU to get them down to the room. He was coming and he was coming fast.

Everyone was telling me to wait and hold him in because NICU needed to be down in the room before Bex came out in case he wasn't breathing.

And when they tell you you have an urge to push, there is no urge about it. There is no stopping it. But somehow, I managed not to push. I literally think it was because I was on my side. Had I been on my back, legs spread, he would have shot out across the room--there would have been no stopping it.

I had that first contraction before the contraction where Bex made his arrival and I think I scarred Klay for life.

I hollered so loud I probably ignited fear in all of the women waiting to deliver down the hall.

All I kept hearing was "hold him in Cass, hold him in, don't push don't push!"

My doc had told me I was going to have another contraction before NICU made it down. About 30 seconds later the second one started.

I was still on my side, hollering "he's coming!"
"Hold him in, hold him in," everyone said.
"I caaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnn't!!!" I shouted.

As soon as my doctor flung my leg open, baby boy slid right out. I didn't push once.

He was crying, which meant he was breathing. NICU hadn't gotten there yet.

His cry was so soft though it took me a minute to hear.

I was breathing hard, shaking and relieved the pain was over; it stopped instantly.

My doc said "you did it. He's fine, he's breathing and crying and you have a baby!"

I was kinda in shock like, "I do?" I couldn't believe I did it.

I kept saying "I'm sorry" I couldn't hold him in.

Seconds later a flood of people burst into the room.

Beckham immediately reached out and grabbed my doctor's clamp when she was about to clamp the cord. She started to laugh. He is already a feisty little thing.

He weighed 3lbs 8 oz, 17 inches long and was born at 30 weeks gestation.

Thursday, November 20, 2014 at 9:23 p.m.

My doc noticed he had a knot in his umbilical cord. "He failed jump roping class," she said. But later on after Bex was being looked at by the NICU folks and I was being cleaned up, my doc said that the knot could have been fatal to him had we continued on with the pregnancy. The bigger he would have gotten, the more strain he would have put on his cord and he could have lost his blood flow.

"He was meant to come out," my doc said to me a few days later.

I truly believe that. He was meant to come out. Things could have been a lot worse, but on that day, everything went as well as it could have. It was a great day.

Sick Sick Sick

Lately my days have been spent sprinting to the bathroom, throwing myself to the toilet, trying to hold something down. That's about the only exercise I've been getting lately.

Unfortunately, it seems my extremely bad nausea has resurfaced once again and keeping stuff down is nearly impossible.

I'm so grossed out by the many different ways stuff comes out of my body, it's repulsive.

I don't want to eat because nothing sounds good.

I don't want to eat because I'm scared I'll puke.

I don't want to eat because I have heartburn before I ever even take a bite of my food.

I don't want to eat because if it's not nausea, it's my stomach acting up.

I hate the idea of eating now.

Since eating seems like such a challenging task, cooking and going the grocery store is torture.

I don't want to pick out what to make for dinner because nothing sounds good. I don't want to look at a bunch of food that will most likely make me sick. And I'm damn sure tired of paying for food and puking that money down the toilet.

I honestly feel sorry for my husband. He has a wife who doesn't want to eat, cook or do anything that requires work because I feel like shit all the time. I literally feel like this everyday.

Ugh. Why am I only 23 weeks?

Everyday I wake up wishing it was December and I was far enough along, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

And this constant feeling like complete dog shit everyday doesn't make me a very productive person.

I'm trying to gather the strength to potty train Brody, but I fail to follow through at every turn.

I'm trying to clean out closets, the office, and get rid of a bunch of crap to make room for baby #2, but my energy is lacking.

If I feel good enough, I will accomplish something that day. The other day, I cleaned out my hall closet which took a few hours and I organized all of our medicine. I was proud of myself. It's just whatever I think I can tackle.

I also cleaned up and went through most of Brody's toys, getting rid of some he doesn't play with and cleaning his room. I still need to go through his closet and clothes though.

I have so many things on my list of To Do's, but no energy to finish them.

Beyond that, I'm trying to get ideas for the baby's room and figure out a name. We have a few we like, but none we've landed on just yet.

I just wish I was rich and had someone come and professional organize, decorate and clean up my house. LOL. I'm sure we all wish that or wish we had some minions.

Pretty much this post is again, about me feeling like poo. 

I think I may go lay down for a bit.

Someone wake me when it's December,

How I found out I was pregnant...again

If you haven't read my first pregnancy stories, you should do so here and here. Because some of the things I say may confuse you had you not already read them.

Let me start off by saying this was just as much as a surprise as our first.

We weren't trying. We were definitely practicing, but we weren't trying to have a second child just yet.

Let me just jump right in.

Ok. So what was the tell-tell sign this time? Sore boobs. Late period. The usual.

I did pee a lot but I already pee a lot so not a huge difference there.

I'd honestly thought I was pregnant earlier this year, but it turned out I was just late or completely forgot when my last period was and I thought I was late, only I was really on-time.

Needless to say, because of that scare, I was pretty sure I was just thinking I might be pregnant and then it would turn out I was wrong... again. I remembered I had two pregnancy tests stashed away from earlier this year, so early Saturday morning on Memorial weekend, I got up before the boys and took the test.

I was thinking "take the test, it will say negative and you can relax."

What I wasn't expecting was for it to come back and say "Nah, bitch you pregnant." Ok it really didn't say that, but that's what it felt like.

I had the Clearblue tests that reads "pregnant" or "not pregnant". But after"pregnant" popped up on the tiny screen--and my heart fell into my stomach--a little timer on the side was still blinking like it wasn't finished calculating.

I sat there and waited.

"Maybe the 'not' will pop up," I thought.

PSH.

Little did I know I purchased the test which calculates how far along you are. Once the timer quit blinking, "2-3 weeks" showed up on the screen...

I sat on the floor and stared at the floor.

Klay was clueless, asleep in our bedroom. This time, unlike the first, he had no idea I was taking a test so I was a little nervous about how he'd react.

The timing didn't seem quite right to be pregnant again, but I suppose it never does.

I decided to take the second test, just to be sure. I mean I know if it says you are, you are. And if it says you're not, you still could be, but I thought "just take the second one, might as well."

So, I did.

Same result.

YOU'RE KNOCKED UP AGAIN.

I just sat and cried in disbelief. I just didn't feel I was ready.

I was trying to get back on track with losing weight and trying to find a job. And, this just complicates things again.

Plus, Klay and I had gotten into a little tiff the night before over something dumb like the dishes. Normally we hash things out before going to bed. It's kind of one of our "rules," we try not to go to sleep angry. But I was freaking tired and didn't feel like talking about the dishes so I fell asleep.

So I wasn't sure how he'd react the next morning.

Meanwhile, I tried to think of a clever way to tell him I was pregnant. So I decided to make breakfast and coffee before he got up and thought I'd write it on his coffee cup. Clever enough for short notice.

So I wrote "2nd White Baby on the way! Drink up!"

He got up when he heard me moving around pans in the kitchen.

The first thing he did was hug and kiss me--a sign to show me he'd moved on from the night before. I felt my shoulders relax with relief.

I made pancakes and had some fresh fruit on the side.

I had to tell him I made coffee and already had a coffee cup sat out for him. I turned it so the message I wrote on the cup was away from him.

But before that he asked me if I wanted coffee and I said "no." And then when it came time to eat,
I told him I'd eat in minute and that I wasn't that hungry.

And he picked up on the strange vibe I guess.

"What's going on with you? You don't want coffee or want to eat? Should I be worried? Did you poison my food?" he laughed, joking about our argument the night before.

"Well I do watch a lot of 'Snapped,' but I wouldn't poison your food, it would be too obvious," I said trying to play it off.

"I'll eat," I said. "Just don't give me those two pancakes on the top. Those are for you," I joked.

Since our kitchen table was still outside we were eating on the floor.

It took him about 45 minutes to notice the message on the coffee cup.

I was waiting to see how he'd react. I had my phone ready so I could grab and record when he finally noticed the message.

Since his first words were "WTF" when we found out I was pregnant with Brody, I was eager to hear the first words to come out of his mouth this time.

And, guess what? He didn't disappoint.

"BULL SHIT!"

Sigh.

Only my husband.

I'd post photos and videos of this epic event, but unfortunately on Friday, my phone decided to stop working and I lost them all. No I didn't back up. I hate that shit. Takes forever. Those precious moments captured are lost forever I suppose. My fault. FML.

Best,

Pregnancy Sucks

I say it all in the title--pregnancy sucks.

For those of you freaks of nature who say they loved being pregnant, I call "bull shit" or you had quite possibly one of the easiest pregnancies ever. And if it's the latter, then I really just want to flip you off right now.

I know it sounds harsh. But listen, when you're throwing up 4-6 times a day, you're nauseated 24/7 (and it never goes away) and you're battling allergies, daily headaches and nothing ever sounds good enough to eat, you'd be flipping people off too.

I mean I really hoped this pregnancy would be better than my first, just so I could enjoy it more. The first time around you're nervous, all of this is new, and you worry about everything--or maybe that was just me. But this time I wanted to love it and really enjoy it because it might be my last pregnancy, I don't know.

But this pregnancy has been brutal.

At every week I've hoped the nausea would vanish, but I'm 17 weeks pregnant and I've been so so so nauseated every day, I can barely function. And it seemed even last week it was getting worse. I was becoming more nauseated in the morning and at night, gagging before my feet hit the floor and before I took all 5 million pills I have to take (fuck you giant prenatal vitamins). Not only that my heartburn has been brutal. Getting sick while you have heartburn freaking hurts. I'm afraid all this barfing is going to damage my esophagus.

The heat doesn't help. There is nothing specifically that makes me sick food-wise. Nothing sounds good.  Well the only thing that sounded good was chicken alfredo from Olive Garden--which I've probably had an embarrassing 20 times in the past two months.

But hey, if it makes me feel OK and it's the one thing I haven't gotten sick on, make me a fatty and give me all 1500 calories of that pasta-goodness.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was something specific or if it was only in the mornings or at night. But being nauseated all damn day, feeling like if I don't eat fast enough I might get sick, living in fear if I eat something different I might get sick, trying to figure out what to eat when nothing sounds good before I get sick. I'm just tired of paying for food and throwing it up.

Needless to say the nausea has been so bad, I barely get on my phone to get on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, because it makes me sick. So being on the computer blogging has been on the bottom of my list. Sorry guys. I feel like I'm losing momentum and I was so pumped about this blog a few months ago.

But if I'm being honest, it's not just the nausea that has gotten me down, there's more going on with this pregnancy.

Well first off, I have chronic high blood pressure. I had been doing well since I lost weight last year and not needed my BP meds, but the doc put me back on them and I have to take them twice a day. High BP puts me at risk for toxemia again and I don't want to have to be on magnesium like I was when I was in labor with Brody. It makes you feel terrible (migraine, feels like you have a fever, catheter before epidural, nausea).

So that's a disappointment. I'll just be crossing my fingers that taking the BP meds keeps me away from the toxemia/magnesium during labor.

The other thing is something I wasn't real sure I wanted to talk about on here because it could be a big deal, and it could not.

There is a hormone in the placenta called PAPP-A. Mine is significantly low, which means I will need regular sonos to ensure the baby is growing as it should. Basically from what I understand about it is that as the baby gets bigger, as I progress throughout my pregnancy, the weak placenta could make it difficult for the baby to continue to grow. If that happens, then we will deliver early.

Luckily, I found out from my doc that most of the time you don't see this happen until the third trimester. That makes me feel a little better. And who knows, maybe everything will be fine? I'm trying my best not to think about this stuff right now. I know it will upset me.

All I can say is that I'm so thankful for my family.

My husband who has burst into the ladies' room at restaurants to be with me as I'm getting sick, dropping everything to be with me every time I'm run to the bathroom in a hurry, comforting me every time I stand up after an episode in tears, making me lay down when I start to feel really bad, and taking me to Olive Garden to eat to make me feel better. I really won the lottery with him. He's so good to me and Brody. He's cooked dinner a lot lately because making food makes me nauseous, even after a hard day at work. I love that man so much. He will never know just how much I love him.

My Brody. He's been there when Daddy's at work, sitting there with me and rubbing my back when I get sick. "You feel sick, mama? Dada be home in a minute," he says not really knowing when Klay will be home but he knows that Dada will try to fix it. He cuddles with me when he knows I don't feel good, and he helps me by bringing me joy at the times I need it most. My little guy.

My mom who has listened to me bitch about this nausea everyday for the past 15 weeks. She's called everyday to check on me. She even came over to help me clean the house. She's helped me with Brody when I needed a break, especially when Klay was gone for three weeks working. She's taken me to Olive Garden, bought me to-go meals from Olive Garden so I wouldn't have to cook or worry about food, and then taken Brody home to stay the night with her so I could get some rest. Thanks mom. I love you more than you'll every know!

My sister, my dad and even my bro-in-law have even helped out too. My sister found some nausea bracelets and brought them to me in hopes that they would help. My dad came to pick me and Brody up one day because Klay was away working and took me to their house because I was so sick I couldn't drive. And my bro-in-law has brought Brody home from my mom's house so I wouldn't have to drive out there to get him. Thanks to them and all of my family for being there when I need it!

Thankfully, I'm happy to report the past four days I've felt so much better. The nausea has eased up quite a bit, so I'm not as nauseated throughout the day. I cooked three nights this week and I've feel about 50 percent better than I did. At least I feel much better than I have in such a long time, I forgot what feeling good feels like.

I'm hoping the extreme nausea has gone away for good, but I'd honestly be happy with just a few good days a week at this point.

Hence, that's why I'm writing right now! I feel good enough to be on the computer--maybe this will be my comeback to the blogosphere yet again.

I guess only time will tell.

Best,

That time I found out I was pregnant

You know how you imagined the way it would feel to announce that you're pregnant to the man of your dreams?

The romance music is playing as he picks you up and swings you around in circles elated by the news. You imagine yourself being the happiest woman on earth.

Well that's how it happened for me. Music played, Klay swung me around in circles, and we laughed in excitement about our new bundle of joy.

UM.
PSH.

YEAH RIGHT.

To be honest, it didn't even come close.

And no, before you get any ideas, this isn't a post to announce that I'm currently pregnant. My uterus is empty and I like that way--for now. ;)

Let me take you back to the year 2011.

We had been married for four years and just moved home from Alaska. He had just transitioned from active duty Air Force to the Reserves so we could be closer to home to raise a family one day; "one day" meaning a year or two later.

We'd wrapped up our 17-day trip from Alaska to Texas (documented on this blog for you newbies)... and had only been back in Texas for about a month or so.

And, we were living with my parents.

Yes, my parents.

BUT we were searching for a place of our own.

Well, I stopped taking the pill because it was making me have my menstrual for two weeks. #aintnobodygottimeforthat

Seriously my lady problems are going to be the death of me.

SO, I'd planned on going back to the doctor to sort out my birth control options once we got things settled in at my parents' place.

Let's fast forward to the beginning of July.

I started not feeling so great. I felt different than I ever had before. I mean there were a few times I thought I was pregnant in the past, when we lived in Alaska, but I'd get my period and it would be done. #phewthatwasclose

But this time it was very, very different. Everything in my body was screaming that something wasn't off. From my sore boobs and constipation to being late, I just knew I was knocked up.

I told Klay this and he gave me that "Oh, I've heard this before" look and shrugged it off.

I'd reply, "No, I know I'm pregnant, I know it this time. I know it."

Of course I got online to google "menstrual cycle" and checked out the graphics to try to determine if we had sex when I was ovulating. We had, so that only confirmed that I was, at least in my mind.

My parents had gone out of town for the weekend to Oklahoma, so we had the house to ourselves.

So I left early one morning and headed to CVS to buy a pregnancy test. I opted for the Clearblue test that actually says "pregnant or not pregnant." I didn't want some little double lines confusing me when I took the test. #spellitoutforme

I came back, took the test and set it on the counter.

I walked in the kitchen to throw away the CVS bag, and went straight back to the bathroom and I saw the word...

"PREGNANT"

#readitandweep

My heart pounded as I couldn't believe what I'd read.

I walked out of the bathroom in tears with the test in-hand.
Klay looks at me trying to gauge my reaction.

He knew I was taking the test and the first words out of his mouth once he sees my face is:
"You're not?"

Um.
NO.
CAPTAIN OBVIOUS.

WHY ELSE WOULD I BE CRYING?

"Really? I'm pregnant," I said.

"Nuh-uh. You're lying," he walked toward me now with some umph in his step.

"Look at it," I handed the test to him.

He grabbed it and stared.
His eyes widened.
He didn't smile or laugh or pick me up and swing me around.
He just stared.

He was clearly as rattled as I was.

The next three words that came out of his mouth weren't exactly the words I thought I would hear when I told my husband I was pregnant.

He uttered three words.

Three little words that weren't as beautiful as the image I had engrained in my head on the way this whole pregnancy announcement would go.

He said:




What the F**K.



Do you have a good pregnancy announcement story? I want to hear it.

Brody's Birth Story Part 3

Read part 1 & part 2 first.

Soon after our first few wonderful hours together, Brody was off to the nursery to get examined, poked, measured and watched by daddy, who was standing with a camera in hand eyeing Brody and his nurse's every move; he wasn't going to leave his side any time soon.

Meanwhile back in L&D, I was getting the treatment--getting cleaned up via sponge-bath which made me feel much better despite still experiencing the migraine.  Before I realized it, it was midnight and I was beyond delirious.

I had a new visitor--my dear friend Cami. She arrived just after her shift ended at work--Dodie's Greenville--, and bumped into Klay at the nursery.

"Brody's so cute," she said as she sat down and asked how I felt. The light was dim in the room to help ease with the sensitivity to light from the gruesome headache. Honestly, I don't really remember much of our conversation because I was so exhausted and OUT OF IT. I remember talking, though it could have been about politics, baby Jesus, who knows?



After Cami left, my nurses prepped me to move to a room upstairs. Lauren and Brandy, my two nurses of the day, were truly spectacular. I'd gotten so attached to them I was crazy sad to move upstairs. I felt like they were sending me off into the wilderness to fend for myself. It was almost as if they were my parents sending me to live in a new home with a new family. At least that's how I felt. They guided me through the most incredible, scary, up and down rollercoaster ride of my life and I didn't want to let them go. Through my labor I discovered one was from Forney and even got her contact info to meet up. I was attached.

But it was time for me to take my leap, start walking on my own and for them to let go of me, wave goodbye and let me  figure this thing out called motherhood. But I was so afraid that my next nurses wouldn't take as good of care of me as they did. But if they were so great, surely the hospital has more great nurses right? WRONG.

After our move to our newest digs, the nurses brought me my baby boy. I was so eager to hold him despite my exhaustion. I didn't mind feeding him, I was just happy he was with me; I didn't want him out of my sight.I looked back at Lauren as I lay on the portable hospital bed, grabbed her hand, and shifted my focus to Klay who was walked beside us.  Whisked me out of L&D, we were on the move, I closed my eyes opening them to only see glimpses of walls and florescent lights that skated above me.



While I was holding Brody once more, I felt my nausea resurface. Looking at the new night nurse in my room, I said "Get me something I'm about to get sick. I'm about to sick. Take him, take him." She just stood there looking at me like I was speaking a foreign language. Maybe I was? Thankfully, Klay stood up took Brody from me and handed me a hospital barf bag. Why they make those bags so small?!?

After getting sick again for the millionth time, I started to dose. Every three or so hours people would come check my BP. Then, my nurse came in and said my oxygen levels were low. Down in L&D, they'd put this thing on my finger which is supposed to monitor my oxygen levels. Well prior to delivery, Brandy (my L&D nurse) had trouble getting a good read on my finger. I'd gotten the shellac or gel nail polish (navy blue) and it wasn't reading through my nail. So, after trying it on my toe (which had gray polish), and that didn't work, they moved the monitor to my ear. When we got upstairs, they placed it back on my finger.

I told the new nurses this a thousand times, but they didn't listen, they continued to ignore me. I kept dosing off intermittently between nurses shuffling in and out of this tiny room.

Around 4 a.m., a specialist came in to check on me. I told him through the oxygen mask--feeling sort of Darth Vadarish--that'd I said 500 times to check it somewhere else but no one would listen. He simply took the clamp, opened it and turned it sideways so it was on my skin rather than the nail, and voila! it was normal. Thankfully that was the end of that.

We were eventually moved to a third room later that morning. Brody's tests were coming back normal with the exception of one--his jaundice test. With rising jaundice levels higher than normal,  we were going to keep good track of it, which meant more pokes and blood test on this heel of his foot.

Despite everything, he seemed to be taking to my breast well and everyone told me I was doing a great job breastfeeding. The lactation nurse even told me my milk was coming in. I was hopeful. I had this dream that I would be the mom that traveled everywhere with her kid in a baby bjorn, popping out the boobie when he got hungry like his very own milk vending machine. I was going to be the source of his food. It was my responsibility to be his one-stop shop for the goods. That was me, the milk-making mommy machine. I could see it.

What an idiot, I was...

Brody's Birth Story Part 1

This is the story of the birth of our sweet Brody, but before I start let me tell you about some of my medical history. I've had high blood pressure my entire life, even as a kid. Both parents have it and my grandparents (I think on both sides), so it figures I'd be the one of two Welch offspring who'd get the trait. My sis was blessed with the better traits--tiny bod, tiny nose, no migraines, no headaches everyday, no hypertension and she even got the skinny genes. I'd been diagnosed with high BP at a young age (though didn't start taking meds until 2009-ish).

I was the prime candidate for pre-eclampsia. Throughout my entire pregnancy, my doctor was concerned and warned me that'd I'd most likely develop it. I was even a participant for a pre-eclampsia study that the hospital was conducting at the time. They had to draw blood every time my BP was up. But I got $25 for each poke! Ayeee!

Fast-forward to 30 weeks: I was working and we were about to move into our remodeled house so my stress was high. My doctor put me on bedrest. "You will have this baby somewhere by 37-39 weeks," she said. "It's too risky for you to go full-term."

Not only did I have weekly appointments with my doctor, but now I had to go to a specialist  (located in the same building thankfully) to get weekly sonograms to check on Brody's progress, ensure everything was developed before delivery and that if I had pre-eclampsia it wasn't affecting him. I did receive a steroid shot to help his lungs mature faster (and ensure they were fully-developed).

36 WEEKS: Doc said, "We will have this baby next Wednesday."

37 WEEKS, Tuesday, Feb. 21: I'm supposed to spend the night at the hospital to get some pill-thing inserted in my cervix which is supposed to help soften my cervix to prepare it for labor and improve my chances for a smooth induction the next morning. My doctor said I couldn't eat past lunch, and I was supposed to be at the hospital til 8 p.m.

We took the dogs to mom's house and while I'm sitting on the couch chatting I start having contractions (though they were braxton hicks). Klay and mom watched my stomach contracting. "We should probably get going," Klay said.

Klay was hungry and went through Whataburger en route to the hospital. I'm in a pissy mood because I'm starving and can't eat while the smell of french fries wafts in the air. Seriously, dude?

When we get to the hospital and they hook me up to machines, the nurse starts looking at the papers coming out like receipts assessing them closely. "You're definitely having contractions alright. But they aren't consistent, so are more likely braxton hicks," she said.

I asked them if I could eat, and they said it was fine since I wasn't going into labor. I ate some hospital food. It was the best damn burger I've ever eaten or it tasted like it anyway. I was just so hungry.

They inserted the vagina pill and repeatedly interrupted the tiny amount of sleep I was getting in the middle of the night to take my BP.

5 A.M.--I start putting on makeup before they took me off to the delivery room. I wanted to have some make up on so I didn't scare my child once he got a glimpse of me. They came in and prepped me to head downstairs.

6:30 A.M.--I now have my own room in Labor & Delivery. It's big and spacious, and this is about to get real. I start to get nervous.

7:30 A.M.--Pitocin was administered and I start having contractions. OUCH. Some visitors (Klay's dad, Susan and Nanny come in to see me).

9 A.M.--I'm given magnesium. This is to prevent me from seizing if my BP starts to rise. Side effects, include: headache, fever symptoms, vomiting, and a catheter pre-epidural, which means I felt it, plus it slows down labor. I immediately have a headache (which later develops into a migraine) and once the catheter is inserted and the nurse leaves the room, I lose it.

"I can't do this. They have to find another way to get him out. Not a c-section and not vaginal, I can't do this. I can't, I can't." I'm sobbing hysterically to Klay. It was all so real, and the catheter was so uncomfortable. On top of all of that, I'm burning up, feeling nauseous and having contractions.

2 P.M.-- The doctor comes in checks my cervix. OH MY GOD. OUUUUUUUCH! "This will be the most painful check of the day," the doctor says. She wasn't lying. It was excruciating. I was dilated to a 2.

She breaks my water with some sort of rod, through the tiny space where my cervix was opening. POP! I hear like a flood coming out. Britney and Klay who are in the room don't even notice as they talk to the doctor hounding her with questions. Despite me wanting to press further without an epidural my doctor goes ahead and orders one.

"You're in pain?" she asks.

"Yes," I reply.

"Then, why not? It will make you feel a lot better, I promise. I'll order it. There's no reason for you to be in pain and uncomfortable. That's what these drugs are for."

15 minutes later... A guy comes in and gives me a whole lot of info about the risks (which scared the hell out of me), how still I had to be, orders everyone out of the room and told me to sit up. I still have a catheter in, my legs and entire body are shaking from adrenaline, I've got the worst headache and I'm extremely nauseous.

I lean up clenching on to a pillow and he sticks the needle in my lower back, and BAM! it's done. Didn't hurt a bit. "That's it?" I say. I immediately feel relief. A few minutes later, I can't feel a thing.

6 P.M.--I'm dilated to a 4, not much progression. My doctor puts some device up my GOODS to try to measure the severity of my contractions. This device helped me somehow because I immediately had stronger contractions. And they were consistent and progressing within minutes. "I'll come back in a couple of hours, and if you're not close, we will talk about other options," the doc says.

So here I am laying in the hospital bed in pain with wet rags on my face, oxygen mask on (Brody was doing better with extra oxygen), but also with a migraine, throwing up and burning up (from the magnesium). I'm just hoping this kid would be pushing his way down and out of my body. After the painful cervix checks from the doctor, and putting devices up in places to monitor my contractions, I was ready for people to leave that part of my body alone (stop sticking things up there) and eager to push this kid out.

8:20 P.M.--My doctor checks my cervix one last time to see if there was any progress, (thankfully I couldn't feel it due to the epidural). "You should be something more," she said.

I stared up at her face trying to gauge her reaction. Please let me be at a 10, please Brody, do it for mommy! Gazing at her face, I thought I saw a glimpse of disappointment. He didn't do it, I thought.

Then very softly, she said, "Ten."

Read part 2 of Brody's Birth Story here.

 

Mommy Trade-Offs, When to Ask for Help & Tips for Friends & Family of New Parents

I'm not so happy to say that our seven-hour sleeping record was short lived. Last night, Brody fell asleep around 1:30 a.m., woke up at 3:30, went back to sleep around 4:30 and back up at 7 a.m. Truthfully, I didn't think the longer sleep was going to last too long. I'm still hoping that this was just an "off" night and was only just a little "bump" in our road to sleeping success. I imagine his sleeping pattern won't become incredibly consistent just yet, but I hope we can get some sort of consistency going soon. But I'm still hoping for the best for the many nights to come!

Amidst all the restless nights and exasperation, there are joys of waking up in the middle of the night with Brody. Lately, we get to see, what I like to call, little Brody "smile sessions." Seeing my little baby smile is not only one of the many precious moments that make me feel like I'm doing something right, but his beautiful grins never fail to put a smile on my face.

I think this is one of the many trade-offs of being a mom. Through the fatigue, exhaustion and many breakdowns, come these sweet amazing moments that let you know that it was all worth it.

By far one of my favorite things is watching him smile when I sing. He's the only person in the world who likes to hear me sing! Watching him smile because he likes to hear my voice, not only makes me an extremely happy mom, but it also helps keep me sane.

Here's a little peek at one of our singing/smile sessions:

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jmi7gVkzQaY&w=420&h=315]

I know many moms are struggling with sleep deprivation and feel like they might "lose it," and one of the things that's hard for me to do is admit when I needed help. I'm not really one to ask for help (or admit that I need it) because I like to prove that I can do it myself. Pediatricians and nurses will constantly tell you to sleep while your baby is asleep. But how are you supposed to do that when you need to clean, wash bottles, do laundry, shower and make you something to eat?

My exhaustion took priority over all of those things and led me to neglect taking care of myself. I was so tired that even though I was starving, I didn't want to make myself something to eat because all I wanted to do was sleep. By the time Brody and I woke up, I'd have to feed and change him, leaving me hungry and never having the time to eat or make anything. I'd go all day without barely eating anything (which probably had to do with the decrease of my breast milk).

Although your priority is making sure your child is taken care of, it's important to remember you have to take care of yourself and part of that is knowing when to ask for help.



In the first few weeks after Brody was born, my mom came over and stayed with us overnight a few times to let Klay and I get some much needed rest. Getting more than 4 hours of consecutive sleep helped restore some of my sanity. If you can't get someone to stay overnight, have someone come stay during the day and let you sleep; it will help you regain some of your energy. But remember you have to ASK for help, and LET people help you!

If you're a friend or family member to someone who's recently had a baby, cook a meal and take it to their house, help them clean their house or offer to do laundry.  Two great friends of mine came over and made a meal for lunch, helped clean my house and even made a freezer meal that we could heat up in the crock pot. Amber and her mom, Wanda, relieved some of our stress and frustration through spending a few hours of their time to help around the house. This simple act of kindness goes a long way and is truly the best gift any new parent could ask for!

Having help like this--whether it's having someone watch the baby to let you sleep or letting someone clean and cook for you--can make a huge difference through this exhausting time and give new parents a little break.

So, reach out and help someone you know that just had a baby or remember to return the favor when someone helps you!

P.S. Never forget to utilize the grandparents!

Cassidy