Kate's birth

It was funny, from the moment Jane came out I felt a whispering that there was another baby in our family. Where I knew Jane was a girl, I knew her name, I even knew some of her personality before birth. This next baby, I knew nothing. It was like flying blind.

I shocked my MIL when I mentioned the next one, Jane was only a few weeks old. I told her, I didn't mean in nine months and if I know there's another, what good does it do to pretend there isn't?

Jane was two when Kate was conceived, barely two that is. I didn't know boy or girl, I had no idea who this person was, I just knew he/she was ours.

Now the OB that delivered Jane ran into some problems here in town. He actually was banned from delivering at both hospitals. I also had that really uncomfortable experience with him going ballistic when I said I didn't want an episiotomy with Jane (the one he gave me anyway!) So I was doctor shopping. There's not many choices in town. Lots of old farts that have been delivering for decades, and still had the mindset from decades ago.

I found out our family doctor delivered and I was slightly uncomfortable with that. The man is only a year or two older then me and he's cute. If we were neighbors I'm sure we could be good friends. However, I managed to put my discomfort aside and went with the cute young doc. I was hoping that as a family doctor I could find less medical intervention then I had with the OB from before.

My pregnancy progressed normally, thankfully we didn't run into any problems. It really was a good pregnancy. We found out at twenty weeks that it was a girl and that felt right. Kent struggled with disappointment. He really wanted a son and he said he knew we'd have six girls now. Oh ye of little faith...

Kate proved to be a real pain. Pain in the ribs that is. Little turkey traveled up every night. I'd wake up with my ribs just swollen out. It was so painful. I would get up and walk and rub that baby back down several times a night.

ANYWAY, all went well through the whole pregnancy. I had lots of pre-labor. TONS of contractions in December. Actually at 34 weeks we confirmed I was dilating and my doctor was concerned that I'd go into labor while he was out of town that weekend. We had him check and make sure the OB that had done my D&C wasn't on call. I felt better when I found out that if anything happened, that wouldn't be the doctor touching me. It was a moot point, I didn't go into labor that weekend anyway. Kate was going to bake another three weeks.

We had two sets of names picked out. Kate Patricia, Kate after my dad's grandma and Patricia after my MIL. Pat still tells me that she doesn't like it when Kate's in trouble and she hears her name used with the get in trouble tone of voice. *laugh* The other name was Grace Lillian. Lillian was my mom's mom and Grace was honestly the only name I liked that went with it. We tossed both back and forth until after she was born.

My good friend Kim was completely against the name Grace. Said that child was anything but a Grace. Kim can have a smile on face knowing that she was absolutely right.

The two weeks before Christmas, I called my mom either late at night or early in the morning with contractions. Our phone bill was horrible that Christmas. After two or three hours of contracting steadily they eventually stalled. No baby that day. Christmas eve was the worst! I literally stayed up the entire night with contractions. I was positive that I would have a baby Christmas Day.

Uh, no.

Instead there was me, at my in laws grumpier then I had ever been in my life!! No sleep and contracting doesn't make for a very nice Christmas. I was trying to sleep on the couch before dinner and everyone was noisy. Well, they probably weren't that noisy but I couldn't stand it. Finally someone offered me a bed. I slept all through dinner. Which, ironically, I had made about two months before and froze.

The night of the twenty-sixth I started having hard contractions at about eleven. Kent went to bed and I played on the computer working through contractions. After reaching the point where I started pacing the hallway to work through contractions, I figured it was time to wake up Kent. It was about two in the morning. Kent's first reaction was lets wait and see it's real before waking anyone up. He was lucky I didn't turn violent that point. My contraction were hitting hard! I was thirty-eight weeks, three days pregnant.

So I got my bag out, made sure I had everything, got Kent moving. Probably yelled at him a bunch, it's all a blur. Called my aunt and uncle who were watching Jane for us. My aunt was sleeping with her phone next to head so she wouldn't miss our call. She answered it first ring and met us at the hospital parking lot.

I'm sure her drive there was a lot more pleasant then mine was. Every bump in the road was a new experience in pain. Kent hit the railroad tracks and I about went through the roof. I think I may have yelled then too. *sheepish look* Did I mention I was crabby? Anyway, my aunt and uncle took Jane and we whisked around to labor and delivery. When I walked in I announced to the nurse at the desk I was having a baby. Immediately she commented that we didn't know that for sure until they checked me, blah blah blah. Moms always think they're farther along then they really are.

Then they checked me.

Suddenly I wasn't the only one loud and demanding! *laugh* The nurse whipped around and yelled to the receptionist to call my doctor immediately and that no one was to touch me! I had bulging waters, was eighty percent effaced and dilated to a four. She was afraid if someone came to check me, my water would break and that baby would be here in no time.

By the time my doctor came, really just ten minutes or so later, I was dilated to a six. He broke my water, noted there was menaconium in the water and authorized drugs. Woot! I had an intrathecal. It's not as strong as an epidural and the line isn't kept in. It usually lasts about two hours. I wasn't worried and I was right, when it was time to push I still was numb.

I really liked the intrathecal. The edge was taken off the contractions but I could still feel them. I even worked a bit through them however in between I was able to relax a lot better. Kent liked it a lot. Something to do with me not yelling at him anymore. Oops.

It was time to push. It took me a few minutes to orientate myself on how to push when I didn't have complete sensation but it didn't take long. I pushed for counts of ten and I could feel that baby move down the birth canal. Then I'd stop pushing and she would shoot back up again. I could feel the sensation of her moving up and down. I found out only a year ago that this happens when the baby is to big for the birth canal.

Finally wanting it to end, when I had a contraction I pushed up to ten and then past ten. I just kept pushing. That's when Kate got stuck.

Shoulder dystocia is when the babies shoulder is caught in the mothers pelvis. There are positions that help widen the pelvis to move the baby out, but I had the intrathecal and was still numb. I was unable to flip over, or stand up and squat because of my choice to be medicated.

My Dr. yelled Pubic pressure! and two nurses started to press down on my tummy as hard as they could. I yelled, I yelled loudly. My previous birth was on the pit completely med free but this pain was much worse. I had a nurse trying to coach me to push but I couldn't push, all I could do was yell. The doctor moved his hand inside and guided Kate out. He placed her on my abdomen and I looked at my baby realizing she was not only blue, but she was floppy like a rag doll.

Her cord was cut lightning fast and she was whisked a few feet away so they could work on her. It took an agonizing minute before she cried. The doctor was working on me as I looked at him feeling panicked as he calmly said over and over again Lisa, she's going to be fine, she's going to be fine. He was right, she did cry and she was fine, eventually.

Where Jane looked like a porcelain doll, Kate looked like she'd survived a boxing match. Poor mookie was so swollen. Her face, her body, all over. Her forehead was one big bruise. She had little bruises along her jaw where the doctor had helped guide her past my pelvis. Her right arm was hyper-extended, held slightly past the natural bend of the elbow, stick straight with no movement in it. She kept it to the side of her, slightly towards her back. Her hand was in a fist with no movement in her fingers, actually there wasn't any movement in her entire arm and shoulder.

It's called a brachial plexus injury. The nerve is stretched, pinched or torn during birth. It was caused by our family doctor pulling her out. I researched and learned that if she didn't gain all her movement by six months in that arm, she'd need surgery and this had the potential of being a life altering injury. First we had to get her out of the nursery.

I delivered at a hospital without a nicu. If we'd gone to the other hospital, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't ended up in the nicu. She was pretty sick. She was under an oxygen tent and being monitored. My MIL asked when she'd be released and they said it'd be at least twenty-four hours, possibly forty-eight because she was so sick.

I was getting antsy after a few hours and desperately wanted to see her. After all the only view I had of her was when she had been so blue and floppy. I barely got to touch her. Even though my doctor had given me permission to go see my baby, the nurse looking after me was a complete witch. She said I couldn't go, after all I had an epidural and it hadn't worn off. Oh HELLO, it had because it wasn't an epidural, it was about five hours after an intrathecal which only last two hours! I was really REALLY getting mad, I was so frustrated with this control freak of a nurse. She didn't help me clean up after birth so I felt kinda trapped in my room. I was still all yucky. My in laws were in the room, so I didn't feel like I could do it myself.

If I had any sense (and wasn't so worried about that baby!) I would have kicked my in laws out and had my husband help me to clean up and gone to see my baby.

My husband and FIL went to give that baby a blessing, to help her heal and my doctor light heartily reminded them that she needed a name to get a blessing. Kent and I looked at each other and at the same time said her name was Kate. So off they went to give her a blessing and she immediately started to improve. Her breathing and oxygen level went to where it was suppose to be. She was able to leave the nursery less then an hour later. So four hours after birth, I was able to hold and nurse my baby Kate Patricia ****. Would you believe my little baby weighed in at nine pounds eleven ounces? She was a CHUNK! She nursed so well she was over ten pounds six days later.

My little fighter was able to gain all the movement in her arm by six months. She barely missed needing surgery, thank Heavens!! Out of habit she liked to keep her arm hyper-extended so Kent participated in some cruel form of baby torture and safety pinned her sleeve to her collar so she couldn't straighten her arm. Ticked her off!! *laugh*

Also, giving her a binky was an excellent idea! She moved her arms lots moving that darn thing to her mouth and away again.