My "birth story"...

4/17/12

Since I cannot sleep, I thought I would blog…but not actually post it, since it will eat the data up.  Just over 18 hours ago, Roy was born…what an adventure.  So, here is your warning…this post is about birth…about my experience in a German hospital giving birth, and all the “fun” things that happened from point A to point B.  If you are grossed out by such events, stop reading.  If you are grossed out by such events happening to me, stop reading.  It is what it is folks J  Shall we begin?

Friday Mark and I found out that Monday we would be having our baby boy.  It was safer to plan a c section than to try a vaginal delivery and then something happen.  At our appointment, Roy was measuring 10 pounds 3 ounces…and his belly was still measuring bigger than his head.  Common sense will tell you that this can be a bad thing when it comes to babies being born…our main concern was that I would go into labor and his head would come through fine, but he would get stuck at his shoulders…which can cause all sorts of bad things (go ahead, google it…)  I personally was not willing to take the chance, and the doctor agreed that the best option (and safest) would be just to plan a c section.  By Friday, I was in a huge amount of pain- I slept next to nothing on Thursday because of back pain, and then Friday felt like I have been beaten in my uterus and crotch with a metal bar…I assumed it was early labor, but knew I was going to the doctor.  As it turns out, nope, just Roy pushing down really hard.  I knew then that I was not overly interested in being pregnant much longer…so we set up Roy’s “birthday” for the 16^th.  The doctor told us that they would call Monday and let us know what time to come in, which would be in the morning, and that we would do the c section that afternoon.  (Now we will skip ahead, since I have already blogged about this weekend!)

So, like most mornings, I woke up around 5…not because I was nervous or excited.  I woke up because I had to pee (like I do most mornings around 5).  I laid in bed waiting for 8 to come around (since that is what time Mark set his alarm for us to get up).  I did try to get some more sleep, but wasn’t overly successful.  We got “the call” around 8:20 or so, wondering where we were….ummm….ok.  This is why I love Germany…well, my doctor anyway.  They tell you they will call to tell you when to come in, and then call and wonder why you aren’t there yet!  So, we got up, and I got ready and finished getting my things together for the hospital.  Mark had to run on base and sign back in after his little bit of block leave.  When he got back, I was ready to go, and so we did.

This is me my "last day pregnant"...

When we got to the hospital, we came downstairs and I was put on the monitor to check the baby and to check for contractions.  His heart rate was fine apparently, and so we were taken back behind the “doors”…of which I had never seen more than a glimpse behind, and had only seen nurses and doctors hurry out of.  It looked like most of the rest of the hospital that I had seen- clean, but “older” looking.  I was taken to a room and Mark was told to wait outside.  Now, this room was obviously for someone who wanted to do a water birth, as there was a huge tub in the room.  The nurse (who I never remember her name…turns out it is Michelle) came in and informed me that she needed to do an “enemy”…errr…enema.  This was just many of the “firsts” that I would experience that day.  You don’t need the details of how this is done (again, if you don’t know, google it), but I will tell you- it is very effective at what it is for.  After that, I let Mark in, as she said she wasn’t coming back for 20 minutes, and I was ready for her to come back much sooner.  Mark and I made jokes and waited.  When she came back, I was given the lovely hospital down (ya know, with the big open back) and fitted with a lovely pair of hose (to keep the clots out of my legs), and was led to a bed in the hallway….and then rolled into a room to wait. 

The room was a very simple deal- with pink striped boarder, and a closet the color of egg yolks (see previous post for picture of the color I am talking about).  I think somewhere must have had a huge sale on stuff that color!  There was a nice lady in there already- a Germany lady in her late 20s or early 30s I would say, who was there because she apparently was fighting off labor, as she still had 11 weeks to go.  She spoke very good English, and talked to me for a bit.  They came to take blood from her, and I think she must have veins like mine, because they had to stick her twice to get anything….she still ended up luckier than I was. 

A nice nurse came in to put in my port for the IV…I had less than high hopes that this would be a simple task, but tried to have faith.  She tried, unsuccessfully, and went and got someone else…who tired 4 or 5 times more…unsuccessfully.  By that time, we had been poking my arms for almost an hour and the anesthesiologist shows up.  H came to have a go at it as well…and with a little local anesthetic in the bend of my arm, and an IV needle I think I am glad I didn’t see, got one in (and then didn’t cap it off, so my arm gushed a little through the open part…lol).  After that was done, I was rolled into the hallway and then walked into a room….THE room.

This is waiting for the people to come and attempt the IV...

This is what relief looks like...after all the poking and prodding...an IV finally got put in...

And one more for good measure...lol

Now, being as I am in a nice hospital, I always assume that things are really nicely kept…and for the most part they are.  This hospital is not dirty at all (that I have seen), but this operating room reminded me of an old ward in a horror movie (but clean).  It had green tiled walls (like a shade of avocado, but darker).  I don’t remember the floor…I think it is pretty standard though.  There were all these people standing in there as Michelle walked in with me.  The anesthesiologist came and talked to me (he was very quiet) and told me that he was going to look at my back.  He poked around to find my hip bones, then pushed on my spine.  Then he told me that the head of anesthesiology would be coming to do my spinal…no problem…except then he came.  He pushed on my back some, while Michelle talked to me…and then before I knew it said “you will feel a little pinch”…but before he finished he had poked me.  I am normally VERY good at being still for these things, but was taken off guard by the “pinch” that had got me (ummm…how about hornet sting?!)  So, instinctively I moved away from the needle.  Now, we are just on local anesthetic here….not even the real deal yet.  Michelle is standing in front of me, with her hands on my shoulders….I reach and grab the side of her shirt to steady myself, and forge on.  I got “stung” a few more times before the “big” deal came.  I felt that my back was numb…and I was thankful for this.  I am not sure that it would be medically impossible to give someone a spinal block without this.  I am also very glad that I never saw the needle or anything for this spinal, because although I am sure it was very small, it felt like it was about as big around as a pencil.  I felt the pressure of him putting it in, and then I felt the “pop” (and heard it…but through my back?) of him going through the spinal membrane.  It hurt- I am not going to lie.  What really got me though was when he either put more meds in or moved it…because I felt the nerves move away from it…and it hurt so bad it took my breath away…and I cried (but not enough to let anyone see lol).  Now, I can also say that the tears were also from nerves (I was terrified that the spinal would not take, and that I would either 1- need a general, and be put under, or 2- I would regain feeling during the c section…and I was suddenly overwhelmed with being homesick.  It was soon over though (a 2^nd first- the spinal), and a 3^rd first was on its way. 

This is the result of the spinal...

After the spinal started taking its toll, I was laid back on the table.  By this time, my legs have gotten very heavy….and I cannot lift them anymore.  I mean, they each must have weighed about 400 pounds.  This was good enough for Michelle, because now I am laying on this table (in front of about 6 German strangers…at least 4 of them men) having a catheter inserted.  I think I am also glad that I did not feel this, as it might be too much…I have decided that they poke and prod you until you are just overly thankful for things (although I cannot imagine ever going through anything like this without the lovely drugs of today…)  And so happened number 3.  Lol. 

After that, everything happened fairly fast.  My blood pressure dropped, like almost everyone else’s during this, so I got a little dizzy- this was an easy fix with some drugs.  They put the drape up, and I waited.  There was a very nice German nurse who sat by my head and talked to me for a while…she never did say her name, and I couldn’t see her name tag.  She told me that she had lived in South Carolina for a while and then she asked me how I liked the area here.  She also told me that in Germany it was bad luck to say the baby’s name before it is born…oh well.  Lol.  The anesthesiologist came and talked to me (he nearly whispered every time he spoke to me) and asked me questions…and continuously sprayed me with alcohol spray, and asked me how it felt (was it cold or warm).  This apparently is how they check to see if the spinal has kicked in.  During this time, there were 2 ladies that were swabbing my whole belly with the orange antiseptic stuff (that never seems to scrub off…).  They were laughing because as they were rubbing it over my belly, Roy was inside kicking at them as they did.  After they finished, it was just a matter of waiting for the meds to completely kick in…my toes were completely numb, I had been given more meds for my blood pressure, and I was getting very anxious.  By the time it kicked it, he could spray right up to my chest without it being cold.  Then, Mark came in. 

Mark sat down next to me and started talking to me.  Before I knew it, I felt a lot of tugging and pushing around.  I assumed that this was still part of the prep.  I was soooo wrong.  I had missed seeing my doctor, Dr. Heimrich, come in.  She had come in and just started (which I am very glad…because it just happened).  Before I knew it, Dr. Heimrich asked Mark if he had his name picked out…and then she told him to look.  I had been trying to get mark to take a peek the whole time- I wanted to know if he could see my guts…and if it was gross looking…but he wouldn’t look before she told him. 

That is when I heard the most beautiful noise I had ever heard in my life (which totally bypassed what I thought was the most beautiful noise, which was when I heard Roy’s heartbeat the first time)…I heard him cry…and I cried.  Mark got to take pictures of him as soon as she pulled him out…see facebook for said amazingly grumpy pictures!  I had already told Mark that when they took the baby, he was to go with them (if nothing else, so I could make sure no one did anything crazy to him…I don’t know what I thought they would do, but I didn’t want it done lol).  Mark had to wait a few minutes while he was checked out- if there were any complications, they take the baby away to the NICU and you have to wait.  Luckily we had the short wait, and Mark left to be with the baby.  They did bring him to me to see, once he had been cleaned up a little (please note here, I am going on how I remember things happening, and it may be a little out of order…but it is enough in order to know what is going on lol).  I looked at him and kissed him…and then he was gone again.  The nice nurse came back and told me that now was the “boring part for the mother”…where they stitch me back up.  And she was right.  It was boring….and by then, between being flat on my back and the meds, it always gets hard to breath.  They gave me more meds for my blood pressure, and kept reminding me to “breath deep” because I was starting to get sleepy…and apparently was just falling asleep…and not breathing in deep enough.  After FOREVER I was taken to recovery, where I was told to try to sleep while they got the baby cleaned up and I “recovered”.  Now, here is where time gets a little sketchy…because in my world, this took HOURS…like in my head, 4.  I did sleep, but kept waking up as people came to talk to me and remind me to breath deep.  I remember drifting in and out of sleep…and burning up (sweating)…and being mad that they were keeping me for HOURS, while my son was somewhere STARVING to death because I wasn’t there to nurse him.  Apparently this was only about an hour and a half though…and Mark had the baby the whole time.   He went with them and finished cleaning him up, and even cut the cord (which he said was much harder than it looks on tv).  He got to spend time with Roy all by himself, which I am very thankful for.  I think it helped him bond with him. 

Anyway, they finally took me to him.  They gave him to me to let me nurse for a few minutes, and then took us to our room in the “Mother and Child” Ward.  I held Roy while they pushed me to the elevators and to our room.  Mark had to go and change out of his scrubs, so we were going to meet him there.  As it turned out, we waited so long for an elevator, that Mark was walking by the one we were on as it arrived at the floor.  I was taken to my room, and Roy was allowed to feed again.  I got to look him over a little, not completely, but enough to know he was simply the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.  He had a head full of the softest hair I had ever seen (yes, there does seem to be a red tint to it, but it isn’t all red), and he has the sweetest blue eyes…and the fattest little fingers you have ever seen. 

All this time I am waiting for my legs to not be numb so that I can stand up (these beds are not comfortable, and not being able to move my legs is terrible…not to mention the nurses come often to check on “bleeding” and “the wound” (which many say it so it sounds like “wound” as in “she wound the hose up”…is it spelled the same?  I am too tired to google lol).  It is flustering not to be able to help assist in your own care of such things.  During the evening I also got dinner in the hospital, which was a different experience…but that is a different blog…with pictures.

I didn’t get to keep him that night…his sugar levels were having a hard time staying up, which caused him to not be able to maintain a good body temp.  They would bring him to me to nurse (15-20 minutes on each side) and then give him between 15 and 30 mL of formula.  His levels didn’t come up to where they were supposed to be until about the 4^th feeding.  I still didn’t sleep (I slept all of an hour and a half or two hours the first night….and then started writing this out…though it is now almost 5:30am on Wednesday, and I started this Tuesday morning…you guess busy!).  My pain level has been ok- I ask for medicine usually before it gets too bad (but have let it go a bit longer than I needed to a few times), and I have nothing but nice things to say about the staff and my visit here.  

I will close now, and try to sleep a little bit before it is time to feed again.  I hope you enjoyed J  All the pics I have of Roy will be posted on Facebook, not in the blog, so look there to see them!