Sat Feb 9
I had to get up and take Ranger to the Dr - he has the flu. Isn't that great?
Before we left for the hospital, I got in the shower, rubbed my little belly for the last time and bawled. We went by Bennigan's so Mark could get something to eat before we sat at the hospital for who knows how long. I was so scared I was shaking and fighting back tears the whole time. Everyone around us was just so normal and here we were going to have the worst experience of our lives. We got to the hospital and ended up going to postpartum where the lady gave us a hard time when we asked for labor and delivery and we had to explain to her. I just wanted to yell at her. We got to labor and delivery and I told them my name and that we were meeting Dr Neville there at 8. The nurse asked “Is she in labor?” I said no, it’s me and she looked at me like I was a mental patient. I don’t think I have wanted to slap someone so hard in my life. I was so scared not knowing how long this would take or how bad it would hurt. Dr C said it would probably be Sunday night or Monday morning, but I was praying it would just be fast, couldn’t God at least do that? They started the cervadil at about 10 that night, started the cytotec at 10 Sunday morning, another dose at 2 and around 5:30 I was having a sharp pain - the Dr came in to examine me and my water had hourglassed and it broke during the exam. The nurse thought things would happen quickly after this. After the exam, I was waiting every second to feel the baby. I took a dose of cytotec by mouth and again nothing. The Dr came back at midnight, tried to feel for the baby and started pitocin. I was just ready for it to be over. I sat there for 2 hours scared that any little thing was the baby passing. I started having cramps but they weren’t too bad. He came in about 2 and set everything up to just go in and get the baby, since nothing was happening. I decided for some more Demerol. The baby passed without me even feeling it, but the next few minutes were hell trying to get out the placenta and making sure it was all out. I hope that is the most pain I ever have to feel in my life, but I was worried mostly about Mark having to watch me go through it.
I had to get up and take Ranger to the Dr - he has the flu. Isn't that great?
Before we left for the hospital, I got in the shower, rubbed my little belly for the last time and bawled. We went by Bennigan's so Mark could get something to eat before we sat at the hospital for who knows how long. I was so scared I was shaking and fighting back tears the whole time. Everyone around us was just so normal and here we were going to have the worst experience of our lives. We got to the hospital and ended up going to postpartum where the lady gave us a hard time when we asked for labor and delivery and we had to explain to her. I just wanted to yell at her. We got to labor and delivery and I told them my name and that we were meeting Dr Neville there at 8. The nurse asked “Is she in labor?” I said no, it’s me and she looked at me like I was a mental patient. I don’t think I have wanted to slap someone so hard in my life. I was so scared not knowing how long this would take or how bad it would hurt. Dr C said it would probably be Sunday night or Monday morning, but I was praying it would just be fast, couldn’t God at least do that? They started the cervadil at about 10 that night, started the cytotec at 10 Sunday morning, another dose at 2 and around 5:30 I was having a sharp pain - the Dr came in to examine me and my water had hourglassed and it broke during the exam. The nurse thought things would happen quickly after this. After the exam, I was waiting every second to feel the baby. I took a dose of cytotec by mouth and again nothing. The Dr came back at midnight, tried to feel for the baby and started pitocin. I was just ready for it to be over. I sat there for 2 hours scared that any little thing was the baby passing. I started having cramps but they weren’t too bad. He came in about 2 and set everything up to just go in and get the baby, since nothing was happening. I decided for some more Demerol. The baby passed without me even feeling it, but the next few minutes were hell trying to get out the placenta and making sure it was all out. I hope that is the most pain I ever have to feel in my life, but I was worried mostly about Mark having to watch me go through it.
Monday February 11, 2008
The baby was born about 3am and we were SHOCKED that it was a boy!! We named him Tyler. He was so tiny. Mark looked at him but I didn’t. I kind of tried b/c a part of me wanted to look, but the other part of me didn't. The dr showed us his little hand and said his cord was twisted really tight and that was probably what caused it. He had probably been gone a few weeks. I cried a little bit, but I was just numb.
I took a pill to sleep and sent Mark home. I woke up about 8 and was ready to go home. I did a lot better than I thought I would, we sat around, watched TV and waited to be released. Then they bring in the wheelchair and it hits me - I have to leave this safe little place, leave my baby here and go into the real world. It hit me like a ton of bricks. And of course, they pushed me right passed the nursery and through the main lobby. It was so humiliating - I felt like everyone was looking at me and seeing me leave the hopsital without my baby. They probably really weren’t, but it felt like they were.
I cried the whole way home. I went straight to bed and cried. Mark took some time to himself and I hear him crying in the other room. I feel so bad for him, but I don’t know how to get past my own sadness to comfort him. He comes in there and lays with me for awhile and then leaves to go check on a job. I just cry. I spend more time reading the board on the internet and find a lot of comfort there. I also start to look back on all the signals I missed: I started feeling so much better, less fatigue around the time to baby died. I also got really snappy and edgy. My belly didn’t really grow, my hair was falling out, my nails weren’t growing. I can’t quit crying. I stop for a minute and then get hit by a huge wave. The nurse put a box together with a sweet little announcements, bracelets, a little cap and pictures of his hands a feet. Mark teased me yesterday that he had my feet b/c his middle toe was longer than his big toe. The pictures weren’t as disturbing as I thought they would be. Then Mark calls and says he feels horrible and is on the way to the Dr. Now he has the flu. Why is this happening? Can’t I catch a break? I guess I switch into mother mode and I go to town to pick up his medicine. I realize on the way home that I hadn’t tried to find the baby’s heartbeat since my last Dr visit. I found it that afternoon and tried again a few days later and couldn’t find it. I never tried again. I thought about it a few times but never got around to doing it.
The baby was born about 3am and we were SHOCKED that it was a boy!! We named him Tyler. He was so tiny. Mark looked at him but I didn’t. I kind of tried b/c a part of me wanted to look, but the other part of me didn't. The dr showed us his little hand and said his cord was twisted really tight and that was probably what caused it. He had probably been gone a few weeks. I cried a little bit, but I was just numb.
I took a pill to sleep and sent Mark home. I woke up about 8 and was ready to go home. I did a lot better than I thought I would, we sat around, watched TV and waited to be released. Then they bring in the wheelchair and it hits me - I have to leave this safe little place, leave my baby here and go into the real world. It hit me like a ton of bricks. And of course, they pushed me right passed the nursery and through the main lobby. It was so humiliating - I felt like everyone was looking at me and seeing me leave the hopsital without my baby. They probably really weren’t, but it felt like they were.
I cried the whole way home. I went straight to bed and cried. Mark took some time to himself and I hear him crying in the other room. I feel so bad for him, but I don’t know how to get past my own sadness to comfort him. He comes in there and lays with me for awhile and then leaves to go check on a job. I just cry. I spend more time reading the board on the internet and find a lot of comfort there. I also start to look back on all the signals I missed: I started feeling so much better, less fatigue around the time to baby died. I also got really snappy and edgy. My belly didn’t really grow, my hair was falling out, my nails weren’t growing. I can’t quit crying. I stop for a minute and then get hit by a huge wave. The nurse put a box together with a sweet little announcements, bracelets, a little cap and pictures of his hands a feet. Mark teased me yesterday that he had my feet b/c his middle toe was longer than his big toe. The pictures weren’t as disturbing as I thought they would be. Then Mark calls and says he feels horrible and is on the way to the Dr. Now he has the flu. Why is this happening? Can’t I catch a break? I guess I switch into mother mode and I go to town to pick up his medicine. I realize on the way home that I hadn’t tried to find the baby’s heartbeat since my last Dr visit. I found it that afternoon and tried again a few days later and couldn’t find it. I never tried again. I thought about it a few times but never got around to doing it.
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