Jane's birth

I knew there was a daughter that was suppose to come to our family about a year before she was conceived. I even knew her name. I was blessed enough to receive this information so that my husband and I could get our butts in gear and prepare our family for her. I didn't know when she would come, I didn't know if she was the first or last. But her name was Jane Elizabeth and I was confident that I would know her when she joined our family. When I told my husband my experience of seeing this beautiful woman and knowing that she was ours, his response... Great, now you've cursed us and we'll have six boys before she comes.

We tried for six months before finding myself pregnant. I had a sneaky suspicion that Jane was to be our first. But then I found out that God had other plans for our family. I had this odd craving for a subway sub. This was before they even had all the cool bread, it was white or wheat only. While waiting to pay I felt the most awful feeling in my life. There was a sudden wetness between my legs. I paid quickly and while crying drove home. I ran into the bathroom and there was blood everywhere. There was no doubt, this baby wasn't meant to be. I hollered for Kent and he came running. He had no idea until he saw the blood.

The next day we went into the doctor, my OB wasn't there and we saw his partner. I don't hate people, but for a number of years I came awfully close to hating this man. He ran an ultrasound, confirmed that there wasn't much there, stated that he thought what was left would shed on it's own and then he commented that he wouldn't have been as generous on giving my pregnancy a chance as my OB had been. My OB had stated the previous week that dates easily could have been wrong.

So I went home and bled. I cried. I bled and cried. It was the worst feeling in the world. It was the loss potential. That little life, no matter how brief the existence had a potential and I grieved that loss. I prayed a lot too. Where was my Jane that I had felt from before?

After a week, the bleeding tapered off and then stopped. Another week went by and Kent and I were out to eat. It was a trucker stop, a place Kent use to go to with Search and Rescue. I got up to use the restroom when all of a sudden I had a huge cramp, it was gigantic. Almost knocked me off my feet. I passed a huge clot, then I cramped again and passed two more. I realized I was in trouble and went and got my husband. We went home, I ran into the bathroom and had another gush of blood. This covered the bathroom floor, I yelled for Kent. When he walked in, well lets just say for the next month he was afraid if I said anything in the bathroom, he'd walk into blood again.

Kent called the OB, got the same compassionate (haha) fill in that we had two weeks ago. He said not to worry. It was normal.

I was drenching three maxi pads (at the same time!) in about five minutes. You cannot tell me that's normal! So Kent took me to the emergency room where I met another idiot. I got there by putting a hand towel and two maxi's in my pants. I also sat on a towel just in case. I walk in, get led to a room and the RN (male!) hands me a robe and asked me to undress and put that robe on. I gave him a blank look and finally said that I was hemorrhaging and that little thin robe wouldn't last very long. He gave me some pads to sit on, which worked much better.

Then the old fart ER doctor walked in and we told him we wanted him to call the OB. He said No no, he could handle it just fine.

Great.

We said it again and got the same response. He had me lean back and started pulling clots out. He'd pull a clot out, I'd gush blood, he'd pull a clot out, I'd gush blood. I have no idea how long that went on for, it seemed like forever but I think it was more like 20 minutes. Finally he said maybe he should call the OB (Really? You think maybe?) So he came back and announced they were admitting me and I needed an IV.

I should add that the doctor's gloves and robed arms were saturated in blood. Kent said I bled on him very efficiently from the knees down. Said I ruined his shoes too.

By the time the IV was ordered my veins had collapsed. They blew four veins trying to get the line in. It was a lovely experience. I had black baseball size bruises up and down my arm. They put a warmed blanket on me and admitted me for a D&C. One of the nurses commented not to be to hard on the ER doctor. The OB didn't like to be called and gave the ER doctor hell if he felt like he was called in for something he didn't feel he was needed for.

Lovely.

Some nurse came in to talk to me about miscarriages. Annoyed the snot out of me because this wasn't a new loss, this was my body not healing like it should.

Kent begged to be able to go in the OR with me. The ER doctor remarked that he'd never seen anyone handle blood like Kent had. So Kent went in with me. The OB (typical male) said that a D&C was no different then a pap smear. Oh yes it was! I was weak and it took me a long time to heal. I had to go back to the ER for some blood tests to make sure I didn't have an infection. I passed the RN that gave me all the bruises on my arm and shouted hello to him and showed him my arms commenting that he'd done that to me. What can I say, it'd been a bad couple of weeks. He did have the decency to turn bright red.

I was suppose to give myself three cycles before trying again. If I didn't get my period, I was suppose to call for hormones so I could get those three cycles in. I had one and then I didn't have anymore. I took a pregnancy test, negative. Called the doc, took ten days of hormones and no period. I waited confused for a few weeks and then this feeling hit.

This queasy, I may throw up any minute feeling.

Oh yes baby, I was pregnant.

I wasn't completely joyful, I worried a lot about that extra dose of hormones. Especially when it was confirmed that I was a whole month farther along then I thought. I had gone to the emergency room, I couldn't breath, I confirmed I was pregnant. I was thinking five weeks, uh, the ER doc took a Doppler and there was a heartbeat. I was obviously farther along then I thought. At first I was sure I must have gotten pregnant right after the hormones. Not according to the ultrasound I had shortly after that ER visit. I got pregnant June first.

Saweet! This baby was a camping baby!! We'd taken some time to head off in the woods and just spend time together. We needed to heal, needed to connect again. Apparently we did more then just that. *laugh*

I discovered a few things during my pregnancy. I discovered (three trips to the emergency room later) that I have asthma while pregnant. I discovered my aunt was willing to put all her anguish aside on not being able to conceive to put together a nursery for us. This included matching border, curtains, quilt and crib skirt. I was so very touched by the love she'd showed us. I also found out after telling my OB that I didn't want an episiotomy, that my OB was really a control freak. If I had been more confident in being my own advocate, I would have walked out and found a different OB but it was my first pregnancy. I let the man yell at me, telling me how tearing was barbaric (yeah buddy, you don't let the woman tear from stem to stern, you take a little time and stretch the perineum) and I ended up getting cut anyway.

I had an aversion for chicken during that pregnancy. Kent made dutch oven chicken and potatoes for his family over the weekend of July forth with "Volcano spice". Dutch oven chicken still makes me queasy.

Before my first semester was over I was impressed that I was pregnant with that girl I saw over a year and a half ago. Kent realized it was a girl and that her name was Jane about a month later. All we had to do was let her grow.

About eight months before my pregnancy, Kent got raked over the coals by the IRS. Of course if they owe you money, oh well. If they think you owe them money, then they charge a $500.00 fine with interest on the original amount and who knows what else. The $400.00 that they claimed Kent owed (from before our marriage) had morphed into $2200.00. All we had was our savings for a baby. So we paid, we'd just bought our house and we sure as heck weren't taking a chance on losing it. We took out a loan and problem solved. Oh we probably swore while paying them off too, I can't remember.

Since our savings and financial security had to go to the IRS, we felt guilt free about getting on medicaid for that pregnancy. The employees are sumptin special, that's for sure. My caseworker denied me the first time because she couldn't understand the pay stub so she made up a number and added it our monthly gross total. The second time she just didn't bother to process it, until I called, six weeks later. Then she hassled me because I had insurance, so why was I trying to get on medicaid. *eye roll* I simply stated I had a $3,000 maternity deductible. For heavens sake, don't punish the person doing it right! I figured after the raking over the coals by the IRS, we were about even with the cost of Jane's pregnancy and delivery.

I swelled at the end of my pregnancy. Elephant ankles, big calves, even my fingers were swelling. I had to take my wedding ring off. As we were going for weekly visits we noticed that there was protein in my urine. The doctor didn't do anything. Finally Kent asked him and he got this thoughtful look like Oh yeah... This was on a Thursday. I was instructed to take a twenty-four hour urine test and turn it in Friday. Anyone not familiar with the term, you keep a jug in the fridge and save your urine for twenty-four hours. Yes it's as fun as it sounds. I turned the test in Friday and Saturday morning at eight am, the phone rings.

It's got to be bad if your OB is calling Saturday morning!!

I grabbed a bowl of cereal because I figured I would want to eat before going to the hospital. I almost left the bag I had packed home but Kent said it'd be foolish to forget it just in case we had a baby.

So off to the hospital we went. I was hooked up to all kinds of monitors. I should mention that the contraction monitor was pretty useless because I had a bad cold and a cough. So there were spikes all over the place. The nurses took a urine sample and took all my stats and confirmed that my blood pressure was rising and my kidneys were shutting down. I was going to have that baby that very day. While I was signing papers one of the nurses walked up and looked at my contraction sheet. She says Hey, wait a minute, you're having contractions. I responded that I was feeling tight every couple of minutes and she rolled her eyes with this look that clearly said "first time mothers".

I was put on the pit at 2:30 pm, the nurse jokingly commented that maybe she'd see a baby before her shift ended at 7:00. She didn't really mean it, but I fooled her! lol.

Jane was born at 6:40 pm. Kent said that Jane hadn't even crowned when the OB gave me the episotomy, grrrrrrrrr. I had to labor with the stupid blood pressure cuff on because of the pre-eclampsia. At one point the on call Ped tried to leave and my OB yelled at him, saying this was high risk (there was meniconium in the waters) and he wasn't to step foot out of the room until after that baby was delivered.

I begged for drugs but I transitioned amazingly fast, so I delivered Jane on the pit completely drug free.

My MIL was in the room. I hadn't planned on her being in the room but she was such a comfort while I was laboring, she just kinda stayed. Kent tried but he really wanted to watch the action. Since my mom couldn't be there, I really appreciated my MIL's help during labor.

Jane was perfect, she looked like a porcelain doll. She had tons of hair. TONS. One of the nurses commented on all her hair before I delivered after she had checked me.

Really, it's an odd thing. You wake up as one person and before the end of the day, you're two. There was no doubt as I was holding her, she definitely was my Jane Elizabeth ****. Bless her beautiful heart, we're blessed to have her in our lives.