So in honor of Dylan’s third birthday, I thought I’d give you guys a couple of fun re-posts from my old myspace blog… one from the week before he was born, and the other from a few days after… fun times!!
Pissy Ravenna and Quack-ass OB’s
March 25, 2008
So yesterday was my latest OB appointment. I’ve been contracting for 3 weeks. I went in ultra unhappy and really sore from all these weeks of endless (needless in my opinion) pain. My doctor was at a delivery, so I wound up seeing the Midwife at the office. Lovely lady, I really like her. So she checks all my stats, and gives me an exam.
“Good lord! I can get you open to almost 8cm! Right now, you’re a 6, but you’re stretching! How have you NOT gone into labor yet?!” She tells me. This of course makes me start getting all weepy. Like I know why I haven’t gone into labor yet.
“Can’t you guys do anything? This is really starting to suck!” I tell her in a wobbly voice. So she goes off and calls my regular OB to see what could and should be done for me. When she comes back I’m told to get my butt immediately to the Birth Center, they were going to augment my contractions and get something moving.
So that’s what I do. I’m hooked up to the IV antibiotics for my GBS status and I’m told they are going to wait until the first round goes through before they decide whether they were going to break my water first, or give me the pitocin drip first. Okay. That’s fine. I’m relieved because there is an end in sight.
After a couple of hours they give me another exam… and I’m told that no, I’m only 4cm dilated. Then I can hear the next shift nurse getting irate in the hallway that I was told I would be augmented. Apparently, Valley Medical Center doesn’t do inductions or augmentations for labor. THEN the world’s worst OB comes on shift. Dr. Rice. The man works at the same Women’s clinic that I go to, and happens to be a collegue of my regular OB. I HATE this man. Twice now this man has discharged me sight unseen. And apparently he’s not happy that I’m back again, and from what I was hearing it was soooo inconvenient for him to take time out of his busy schedule to attend to me. Oh, how I HATE this man.
2 years ago, my best friend was pregnant. Dr. Rice was her OB. She recieved sub-standard care from him, was NOT told the signs of premature labor, and when she began having premature labor pains, she didn’t know. Her son died shortly after birth after they narrowly managed to keep my friend from hemorraging to death. She was 20 weeks pregnant. Now, tragedy happens, but this one could have been prevented in my eyes, and I’m sure Dr. Rice did what he could (*snorts*), I don’t trust him with a fucking stethoscope.
So this bastard winds up giving me ANOTHER exam. What the fuck are they looking for up there?! My GODDESS how many goddamn exams do I honestly need?! Yeah, so he says I’m 5.5cm dilated, but my labor isn’t active enough for him to keep me there… time to go home.
My friends, I LOST it. I told everyone who was there to vacate the room and immediately dissolved into hysterics. There I was hooked up to the IV, to the machines, I’m having contractions, they aren’t very strong, but they’re regular and trying hard to pull themselves together… and I’m to go home. I haven’t sleept a good night’s sleep in over 3 weeks, my body hurts, I’m stressed over my kids, I’m stressed because Steve’s working weird hours and then goes out to hang with his buddy’s after work… and there I am at home laboring, hurting, crying and trying to keep it together so I don’t lose my mind.
I cried like a fucking baby. I had my end in sight, and that ass clown fucking ripped it right out from under me. Oh, and get this… they offered me a shot of morphine before I left to help me sleep. Riiiight. Morphine but no pitocin. Fucking quack ass doctor.
At this point, my bi-polar is starting to swing into a depressive state… which as many of us mother’s know is NOT a good thing. Especially if I’m expected to take care of this infant once it IS born. How can I do that if I’m depressed and feeling resentful? I won’t be able to.
Not too mention… if I keep going like this (endless contractions that lead to “not active enough labor to keep me”) I’m going to be too exhausted to actually deliver the baby and that leaves me wide open for all kinds of complications. Yeah, Dr. Rice is under the impression that I’m fucking retarded and don’t know what an induction entails. Sorry ass fucker, but I’ve been there, done that already. I consider myself very well informed, and I understand CLEARLY the risks of all methods of labor intervention. I make it a point to learn about these things (I’m paranoid, so I like to learn). And yet he says no… if I get the pitocin it would be dangerous and I’d probably have to have a C-section. Not necessarily. A LOT of things could happen. That’s part of the process. At this point, I could wind up too tired and STILL wind up needing a C-section. Or the baby could wind up with shoulder dystocia and I’d need a c-section… or a prolapsed cord… or a thousand other mights and maybes.
Ugh. So yeah, today I’m royally pissed and very tired. And still pregnant. There’s going to be some heated words once I get a hold of my doctor about this whole fiasco.
Dylan Edward 4-1-2008
April 6, 2008
So after the March 25th episode at the hospital (as in no induction where I was supposed to have one done…) I go to my next prenatal appointment which was April 1st. Needless to say after expressing my intense displeasure and massive unhappiness with the whole ordeal my doctor comes in and is quite surprised that I’m still pregnant.
She checks me out and sure enough, I’m dilated at 6cm. Back to the hospital I go. This time, SHE is going to get the induction started so there will be no way I’m sent home again.
I get there, and for most of the day it’s just me and my mom, though Steve’s mom did come after lunch time. At this point, we’re just letting the antibiotics work their way into my system before the pitocin is administered. I’ve been talking to Steve off and on throughout the day and I make sure that he knows we have time before he needs to get there and all will be well. Go ahead and finish the day at work.
Steve finally arrived around 5pm and the pitocin was started at 5:30. At 6pm they broke my water, and asked if I wanted my epidural yet. No, I tell them, I’ll let you know when I want one. The contractions were painful, but manageable.
10 minutes later I was screaming for my drugs. I pretty much went from active labor to transitional labor in 1 hour. It SUCKED!! My first nurse Isa, was a bitchin chick and was surpremely wonderful at keeping me distracted while I waited for the epidural. So was Steve for that matter, both of them fully understood the concept of “tunnel vision” which is what I was totally having at that point. So when one wasn’t in my line of sight, the other was. Reminding me to slow my breathing and to not hyper-ventilate (which I was). Then Nurse Tyanna (same nurse at the week before who discharged me) came in and tried to get all up in my business. She did not help. At all. By the time I got the epidural the next doctor on shift came in. Dr. Kipa… who TOTALLY rocked by the way! I was feeling much better at this point and she decided to check if I was ready to rock and roll yet (considering the amount of yelling I was doing prior to the epidural she probably figured I was close to delivering)… and wouldn’t you know, I was “complete and +3″… which means I was 10cm dilated, 100% effaced and the baby was halfway down my hoo-haw. She asked me if I remembered how to push (duh) and that I could if I wanted to. Yes.
So I pushed, and out he came and I got to love on him before they began the standard newborn checks (his apgar was 9!) and then Papa got to hold Dylan. He came out with his cord wrapped around his neck twice, but Dr. Kipa was rocking on that part too, and it was a non-issue. The scary part came after… apparently I was starting to hemorragh and they were having a hard time getting my uterus to contract. But they managed to get a handle on that and I had to keep the pitocin in for a few hours after Dylan was born.
8:14pm he came in weighing 7lbs 13 oz. and 20 inches long. Lots of family and friends came to come and greet him that night and it was really great.
So we’re home now, and so far so good. The boys love their new baby brother (though Finn for some reason seems to think the baby needs new batteries) and we’re adjusting from our former family of 4, to the new family of 5. Steve has been wonderful and thinks that I’m hogging Dylan too much (ROFL!) and enjoys his snuggle time with the baby. The coolest thing that happened was that yesterday his boss sent us a bouquet of flowers to congratulate us on our newest addition. They’re beautiful!!
So we shall see how things go over the next few weeks. I’m not allowed to do jack diddly squat for a while (no driving, no laundry, no dishes, no vacuuming and no lifting anything over 10lbs) because I’m high risk for post-partum hemorraghing, but that’s alright… I could use the rest, lol!
So these are the memories from the fun times that were going on when Dylan was born three years ago. Hard to believe so much time has passed and my last baby is growing up. *sighs* Where has all the time gone?
Enough for now… Dylan wants my attention now, lol!