Hellloooo everyone! I haven't been able to get online until now, but just wanted to post that my little Kylan Angelo arrived last Monday, January 26th at 8:43AM. He was delivered at the hospital via emergency C-section at 36 weeks, 6 days. He weighed 5lbs, 10ounces and was 18.5 inches long. He had to spend 4 days in the NICU due to being a little premature and low blood sugar. We got to come home on Friday and we've been settling in since! Breastfeeding was difficult at first (first with the milk not coming, terribly sore nipples, and then with the milk coming too fast!), but we're getting it all straightened out! (bought a Pump in Style breast pump to help, I loves it!!!)
Anyway, I'm totally in love with my little bug! Of course I'm biased, but I just think he's the most perfect baby in the world!
************** Full Story Below!**************
First of all, I always thought I'd end up going into labour early. Both DH and I had been born
relatively early and I just had a feeling. However, I started to wonder if that would really be
the case. My belly stayed relatively small throughout pregnancy (even though my thighs exploded,
lol) and it seemed that the baby was quite content to chill out in my belly.
Well, turns out my first instincts were right. On Saturday (36 weeks, 5 days), I was quite
tired. During my naps, I dreamt twice that my water had broken and I'd gone into labour. Since I
slept so much during the day, I couldn't sleep at night. I stayed up doing various research on
baby topics. I finally went to bed around 5AM. At 8AM I woke up feeling wet and 'drippy'. I felt
a bit nervous as I got up and went to the washroom. I peed and my mucous plug fell out. Then I
knew it was the real deal! I nervously went back to my room and took a look at DH sleeping
peacefully, briefly the thought of just ignoring the whole situation and climbing back into bed
seemed very tempting... DH woke up and asked if I was okay. I replied, "Yeah, but I think maybe
we should go to the hospital..." I was a little nervous, but surprisingly calm. DH on the other
hand, was not! *lol*
Before going to the hospital, I climbed in the shower to shave my legs and give myself a good
scrubbing. I knew it might be awhile before I'd be able to do that again. Of course DH thought I
was insane to be taking a 45 minute shower with amniotic fluid draining out of me. He was
frantically trying to get our stuff together to take to the hospital. Of course we'd been
planning on packing our hospital bag that day...
Originally I'd planned to labour at home for as long as possible before heading to the hospital.
However, since my waters broke first, that wasn't really an option. I didn't want the baby to be
at risk of infection or other complications. I'm not in an area where a homebirth/birthing
centre were really options, so I made sure I had a very precise birth plan. I wanted as little
medical intervention as possible - no meds, no IVs, no epidural, episiotomy, etc. When I got to
the hospital the nurses were less than enthusiastic about my birth plan and started calling me
"trouble maker". I was very friendly to every one, but wanted to stick to my guns on the birth
plan.
The first snag came up when I was asked about the Strep B swab test. I was supposed to have had
it done on Tuesday (this was still Sunday). Without the results, they said they'd have to treat
me as if I had the infection. I'd have to be on an IV with antibiotics and be induced. I
compromised on the IV, provided it was the kind that could be taken off and on, so that way I'd
still be able to move around when contractions rolled around. However, I was still opposed to
the induction. I felt confident that I could labour successfully and wanted to have the chance
to do so. The nurses tried to scare me into the induction, saying how I could have the infection
and at a medical trial in Calgary they'd found that people who had the infection and didn't get
induced had a higher risk of having a baby with severe problems, including death. While the
trial did sound scary, I still wasn't going to put my faith in one random medical trial as
opposed to all the research I've done on the possible negative results of inducing labour
unnecessarily. So I signed a waiver indicating that I knew the risks and was still choosing not
to induce.
So around 10AM I was admitted into the hospital (and lucky enough to get the last private room
available!) At first I tried to get a little sleep (since I'd only had 3 hrs from the night
before), but that didn't work out very well, I was too excited. So I waited and danced around,
shaking my hips, trying to encourage my little guy to start on his way. I did have some very
mild contractions, but they felt like normal period cramps, with a backache thrown in. At
midnight, I was finally examined and found to be only 1cm dilated. Frustrated, I went back to my
room and tried to decide whether to keep doing squats and jiggling around to try to bring the
baby, or to get some sleep to rest up. I went with the sleep...or the resting at least. I didn't
actually get much sleep, around half an hour or so. By 4AM the contractions had strengthened a
little, but were still very bearable. Actually, I was anticipating and enjoying the
contractions, feeling my body go through a natural and amazing transition. At 6AM a nurse came
to hook me up to a fetal moniter to check on the baby's heart rate and the progression. She
turned the machine on and left the room. I watched the little digital read-out intently, trying
to connect it with what was happening inside me. It didn't take long for an icy feeling to chill
my heart, though...something was wrong with the baby's heart beat. Every time I had a
contraction, the rate would go crazy, dropping dramatically. The numbers would flash from 140,
to 200, down to 50. I struggled to breath...I was so worried. The nurse came back and my fears
were confirmed when I saw her reaction to the read-out. She tore off the print and headed to the
doctor. I was taken to the delivery room to be checked on a better machine. It was the same
scenario, I could hear the sound of my baby's heartbeat as it dropped frighteningly low,
thudding along at a painful rate. While I'd been enjoying my contractions a few hours before,
now I was praying for them to stop. When the pains came, I felt only fear for my poor little
baby.
The doctors were talking about sending a cab to another hospital in the city to get a machine
which could be used to replace amniotic fluid. But by that point, I knew the situation was
critical. I was only dilated to 4cm and my contractions still seemed very mild. If the baby was
already struggling at this point, I knew any other pressure would be far too dangerous for him.
I had to make the decision to do what I had planned to avoid all along, an epidural and C-
section. I told a nurse that I didn't want to wait for the machine from the other hospital. She
said if I was ready, she'd go get the doctor, and I'd have to say point blank that I wanted the
section. The doctor came in and I told them that my baby was in danger and had to be born as
soon as possible. Once I said the word, everyone got moving. A nurse came in and started a
catheter, which was terribly uncomfortable. Then I signed off on the paperwork and half-listened
to the explanation of the risks, etc. All I could do was to focus on the little life inside me,
willing him strength with all my might.
As I was wheeled down the hall on my stretcher, my heart thudded in my chest. I was so nervous!
I'd never been admitted to a hospital before, never had any stitches, no IVs, and definitly no
surgeries before! I remember looking up at the ceiling and thinking what an odd view of things.
I felt like I was in a TV show or something. Once we got to the Operating Room, I struggled to
control my shaking-partly due to nerves, partly due to the icy cold fluid that had been being
pumped into my veins through the IV. The doctor who administered the epidural was actually
fantastic. He was very kind and reassuring, while seeming to be very capable. He was showing a
med student how to do the procedure, which was fine...as long as she wasn't the one who was
going to be doing it! (this same med student had attemped to do an infection swab on me earlier,
only to miss my vagina and end up jabbing the swab into my urethra!!Ouch!) I slumped my body
forward and tried to relax as he administered the spinal, it was surprisingly easy! I hardly
felt anything at all. Shortly my bottom got all warm and my legs started to feel heavy. I was
moved to another stretcher and they strapped my arms out on boards to the side. I kinda felt
like I was being crucified or something! They put the tent up, so I couldn't see what was going
on, and started smearing on the goop. I was really scared, but I was still more scared for my
baby. I could feel them preparing me for the surgery and I was worried that despite the
reassurances, I would be able to feel the cutting. They let me know that they do a test to see
if you can feel anything, and I guess I passed, because I never noticed a thing.
After they had everything ready, they brought in DH to sit next to my head. I always thought
that I'd be fine going through something like that alone, since I have a strong independent
streak (esp. when dealing with challenges), but I was sooo happy he was there with me. He kept
me grounded and helped me remember who I was. As the surgery was begun, I felt lots of tugging
and pulling. It was the weirdest sensation I'd ever had. Like a ghost was inside me, pulling
things around. Faster than I could imagine, the doctors let me know that they were ready to push
the baby out and that I'd feel a lot of pressure. I took a deep breath and felt a huge burden
sliding from my body. My heart raced, I held my breath blinking back tears. Finally, a gurgled
cry! He was okay! The relief was tremendous, it was hard to contain myself. He was taken over to
the table to be cleaned up and checked over. I was a little sad that I couldn't take him
immediately to my breast, but I willed him all the power and love I had in me.
I noticed there was some commotion from the doctors around my abdomen. Apparently my intuition
about my baby having been in serious condition was right. My little babe had had his umbilical
cord wrapped around his neck, but not only that, it was actually tied in a true knot! Apparently
it's a very rare occurance, they even brought the cord up to show me. All the doctors could say
was "Good call." The implication hit me hard, my baby could so easily not have made it. He could
not have been born vaginally. If I had of allowed the doctors to persuade me to have the
induction, the contractions may have come too hard and fast to make it into surgery in time. If
I had of waited before making the call to go to surgery, he might not have made it. It still
gives me chills to think that it was so close...but it also gives me a sense of pride in that I
followed my heart and made my own decisions, decisions that may have saved the life of my child.
After the Cesarean, DH went with the baby to the NICU. He got to hold him and kiss him softly
before leaving. He brought him close to my face so I could see him, and kiss his cheek. Even
though he was brand new, I felt like I'd always known him. He is a part of me, a very precious
part.
After I was all closed up, I was taken to recovery and covered with lots of warm blankets. After
a while I finally managed to stop shaking. I was in recovery for about 2.5 hours, until I could
wiggle my toes! At that point I was allowed to go back to my room. As the spinal drugs wore off,
I started to feel very itchy. The itchiness lasted for a couple days, it was annoying, but
bearable. After arriving at my room, the nurses asked if I wanted to go to the NICU to see my
baby. Of course I said "yes"! I moved awkwardly into a wheelchair and DH strolled me down the
halls. We scrubbed up before going into the NICU. From all the babies, I had a feeling where my
baby was. We headed over to the little incubator and I watched my beautiful little child resting
peacefully. I longed to have him in my arms, to take him away from all the strange people and
machines. All I wanted was to have him safe at home with his family. However, he had to stay in
the NICU for 4 days until his blood sugar level came up and he was stable. It was so hard to
leave him there, in the care of other women. But I went faithfully down to see him every 2-3
hours to breastfeed him. It was hard, since my milk hadn't come in, and I didn't have enough
colostrum to satisfy him. Also, the nurses had been giving him formula, so it was hard to get
him to take the breast. It was so frustrating, I'd spend over an hour trying to get him to feed,
before having to supplement with the formula. I was exhausted and didn't get much of any sleep
at all those first few days. Finally, my little guy was released from the NICU and brought to my
room. I was so happy to have him with me. For the next couple of days, we still had a hard time
with the breastfeeding, but I was determined not to give up.
Finally, my milk came in all at once. I woke up covered in it. The same day we were discharged
from the hospital and finally allowed to come home. It was another relief to be safe at home,
warm in our nest. Since then, we've been getting settled. We went through more breastfeeding
challenges, as my milk lets down far too fast and little Kylan was choking and getting gassy
when trying to feed. I was in tears watching him eat formula because he was refusing to nurse.
That was when I decided to go out and buy my breastpump. Even if he couldn't nurse, there was no
way I was going to just give up on feeding him *my* milk! Since then, things have been much
better. He hasn't had another drop of formula!
I pump milk off when I have to, and let him
nurse when he can. So far it's been about 50-50, and he's actually doing a much better job at
nursing! So much for nipple confusion! I think in general he prefers the breast, but sometimes
when his tummy just needs to be filled, the bottle works well enough. I'm not concerned about
the bonding, since nothing can stop us from bonding. Already I feel like he's so attached to me.
Even when he's feeding from the bottle, he's on my chest, skin-to-skin, looking in my eyes. He's
my little angel and I love him beyond words.
Even though I didn't get the natural birth I'd wanted, I am proud of myself, my loving,
supportive DH and above all, little Kylan. We made it through and I know things are just going
to get better and better from here on out!
http://img11.imageshack.us/img11/2513/060ko3.th.jpg
http://img11.imageshack.us/img11/1559/007dn4.th.jpg
http://img11.imageshack.us/img11/2286/img0496dc4.th.jpg
http://img11.imageshack.us/img11/8792/009zz5.th.jpg
Anyway, I'm totally in love with my little bug! Of course I'm biased, but I just think he's the most perfect baby in the world!
************** Full Story Below!**************
First of all, I always thought I'd end up going into labour early. Both DH and I had been born
relatively early and I just had a feeling. However, I started to wonder if that would really be
the case. My belly stayed relatively small throughout pregnancy (even though my thighs exploded,
lol) and it seemed that the baby was quite content to chill out in my belly.
Well, turns out my first instincts were right. On Saturday (36 weeks, 5 days), I was quite
tired. During my naps, I dreamt twice that my water had broken and I'd gone into labour. Since I
slept so much during the day, I couldn't sleep at night. I stayed up doing various research on
baby topics. I finally went to bed around 5AM. At 8AM I woke up feeling wet and 'drippy'. I felt
a bit nervous as I got up and went to the washroom. I peed and my mucous plug fell out. Then I
knew it was the real deal! I nervously went back to my room and took a look at DH sleeping
peacefully, briefly the thought of just ignoring the whole situation and climbing back into bed
seemed very tempting... DH woke up and asked if I was okay. I replied, "Yeah, but I think maybe
we should go to the hospital..." I was a little nervous, but surprisingly calm. DH on the other
hand, was not! *lol*
Before going to the hospital, I climbed in the shower to shave my legs and give myself a good
scrubbing. I knew it might be awhile before I'd be able to do that again. Of course DH thought I
was insane to be taking a 45 minute shower with amniotic fluid draining out of me. He was
frantically trying to get our stuff together to take to the hospital. Of course we'd been
planning on packing our hospital bag that day...
Originally I'd planned to labour at home for as long as possible before heading to the hospital.
However, since my waters broke first, that wasn't really an option. I didn't want the baby to be
at risk of infection or other complications. I'm not in an area where a homebirth/birthing
centre were really options, so I made sure I had a very precise birth plan. I wanted as little
medical intervention as possible - no meds, no IVs, no epidural, episiotomy, etc. When I got to
the hospital the nurses were less than enthusiastic about my birth plan and started calling me
"trouble maker". I was very friendly to every one, but wanted to stick to my guns on the birth
plan.
The first snag came up when I was asked about the Strep B swab test. I was supposed to have had
it done on Tuesday (this was still Sunday). Without the results, they said they'd have to treat
me as if I had the infection. I'd have to be on an IV with antibiotics and be induced. I
compromised on the IV, provided it was the kind that could be taken off and on, so that way I'd
still be able to move around when contractions rolled around. However, I was still opposed to
the induction. I felt confident that I could labour successfully and wanted to have the chance
to do so. The nurses tried to scare me into the induction, saying how I could have the infection
and at a medical trial in Calgary they'd found that people who had the infection and didn't get
induced had a higher risk of having a baby with severe problems, including death. While the
trial did sound scary, I still wasn't going to put my faith in one random medical trial as
opposed to all the research I've done on the possible negative results of inducing labour
unnecessarily. So I signed a waiver indicating that I knew the risks and was still choosing not
to induce.
So around 10AM I was admitted into the hospital (and lucky enough to get the last private room
available!) At first I tried to get a little sleep (since I'd only had 3 hrs from the night
before), but that didn't work out very well, I was too excited. So I waited and danced around,
shaking my hips, trying to encourage my little guy to start on his way. I did have some very
mild contractions, but they felt like normal period cramps, with a backache thrown in. At
midnight, I was finally examined and found to be only 1cm dilated. Frustrated, I went back to my
room and tried to decide whether to keep doing squats and jiggling around to try to bring the
baby, or to get some sleep to rest up. I went with the sleep...or the resting at least. I didn't
actually get much sleep, around half an hour or so. By 4AM the contractions had strengthened a
little, but were still very bearable. Actually, I was anticipating and enjoying the
contractions, feeling my body go through a natural and amazing transition. At 6AM a nurse came
to hook me up to a fetal moniter to check on the baby's heart rate and the progression. She
turned the machine on and left the room. I watched the little digital read-out intently, trying
to connect it with what was happening inside me. It didn't take long for an icy feeling to chill
my heart, though...something was wrong with the baby's heart beat. Every time I had a
contraction, the rate would go crazy, dropping dramatically. The numbers would flash from 140,
to 200, down to 50. I struggled to breath...I was so worried. The nurse came back and my fears
were confirmed when I saw her reaction to the read-out. She tore off the print and headed to the
doctor. I was taken to the delivery room to be checked on a better machine. It was the same
scenario, I could hear the sound of my baby's heartbeat as it dropped frighteningly low,
thudding along at a painful rate. While I'd been enjoying my contractions a few hours before,
now I was praying for them to stop. When the pains came, I felt only fear for my poor little
baby.
The doctors were talking about sending a cab to another hospital in the city to get a machine
which could be used to replace amniotic fluid. But by that point, I knew the situation was
critical. I was only dilated to 4cm and my contractions still seemed very mild. If the baby was
already struggling at this point, I knew any other pressure would be far too dangerous for him.
I had to make the decision to do what I had planned to avoid all along, an epidural and C-
section. I told a nurse that I didn't want to wait for the machine from the other hospital. She
said if I was ready, she'd go get the doctor, and I'd have to say point blank that I wanted the
section. The doctor came in and I told them that my baby was in danger and had to be born as
soon as possible. Once I said the word, everyone got moving. A nurse came in and started a
catheter, which was terribly uncomfortable. Then I signed off on the paperwork and half-listened
to the explanation of the risks, etc. All I could do was to focus on the little life inside me,
willing him strength with all my might.
As I was wheeled down the hall on my stretcher, my heart thudded in my chest. I was so nervous!
I'd never been admitted to a hospital before, never had any stitches, no IVs, and definitly no
surgeries before! I remember looking up at the ceiling and thinking what an odd view of things.
I felt like I was in a TV show or something. Once we got to the Operating Room, I struggled to
control my shaking-partly due to nerves, partly due to the icy cold fluid that had been being
pumped into my veins through the IV. The doctor who administered the epidural was actually
fantastic. He was very kind and reassuring, while seeming to be very capable. He was showing a
med student how to do the procedure, which was fine...as long as she wasn't the one who was
going to be doing it! (this same med student had attemped to do an infection swab on me earlier,
only to miss my vagina and end up jabbing the swab into my urethra!!Ouch!) I slumped my body
forward and tried to relax as he administered the spinal, it was surprisingly easy! I hardly
felt anything at all. Shortly my bottom got all warm and my legs started to feel heavy. I was
moved to another stretcher and they strapped my arms out on boards to the side. I kinda felt
like I was being crucified or something! They put the tent up, so I couldn't see what was going
on, and started smearing on the goop. I was really scared, but I was still more scared for my
baby. I could feel them preparing me for the surgery and I was worried that despite the
reassurances, I would be able to feel the cutting. They let me know that they do a test to see
if you can feel anything, and I guess I passed, because I never noticed a thing.
After they had everything ready, they brought in DH to sit next to my head. I always thought
that I'd be fine going through something like that alone, since I have a strong independent
streak (esp. when dealing with challenges), but I was sooo happy he was there with me. He kept
me grounded and helped me remember who I was. As the surgery was begun, I felt lots of tugging
and pulling. It was the weirdest sensation I'd ever had. Like a ghost was inside me, pulling
things around. Faster than I could imagine, the doctors let me know that they were ready to push
the baby out and that I'd feel a lot of pressure. I took a deep breath and felt a huge burden
sliding from my body. My heart raced, I held my breath blinking back tears. Finally, a gurgled
cry! He was okay! The relief was tremendous, it was hard to contain myself. He was taken over to
the table to be cleaned up and checked over. I was a little sad that I couldn't take him
immediately to my breast, but I willed him all the power and love I had in me.
I noticed there was some commotion from the doctors around my abdomen. Apparently my intuition
about my baby having been in serious condition was right. My little babe had had his umbilical
cord wrapped around his neck, but not only that, it was actually tied in a true knot! Apparently
it's a very rare occurance, they even brought the cord up to show me. All the doctors could say
was "Good call." The implication hit me hard, my baby could so easily not have made it. He could
not have been born vaginally. If I had of allowed the doctors to persuade me to have the
induction, the contractions may have come too hard and fast to make it into surgery in time. If
I had of waited before making the call to go to surgery, he might not have made it. It still
gives me chills to think that it was so close...but it also gives me a sense of pride in that I
followed my heart and made my own decisions, decisions that may have saved the life of my child.
After the Cesarean, DH went with the baby to the NICU. He got to hold him and kiss him softly
before leaving. He brought him close to my face so I could see him, and kiss his cheek. Even
though he was brand new, I felt like I'd always known him. He is a part of me, a very precious
part.
After I was all closed up, I was taken to recovery and covered with lots of warm blankets. After
a while I finally managed to stop shaking. I was in recovery for about 2.5 hours, until I could
wiggle my toes! At that point I was allowed to go back to my room. As the spinal drugs wore off,
I started to feel very itchy. The itchiness lasted for a couple days, it was annoying, but
bearable. After arriving at my room, the nurses asked if I wanted to go to the NICU to see my
baby. Of course I said "yes"! I moved awkwardly into a wheelchair and DH strolled me down the
halls. We scrubbed up before going into the NICU. From all the babies, I had a feeling where my
baby was. We headed over to the little incubator and I watched my beautiful little child resting
peacefully. I longed to have him in my arms, to take him away from all the strange people and
machines. All I wanted was to have him safe at home with his family. However, he had to stay in
the NICU for 4 days until his blood sugar level came up and he was stable. It was so hard to
leave him there, in the care of other women. But I went faithfully down to see him every 2-3
hours to breastfeed him. It was hard, since my milk hadn't come in, and I didn't have enough
colostrum to satisfy him. Also, the nurses had been giving him formula, so it was hard to get
him to take the breast. It was so frustrating, I'd spend over an hour trying to get him to feed,
before having to supplement with the formula. I was exhausted and didn't get much of any sleep
at all those first few days. Finally, my little guy was released from the NICU and brought to my
room. I was so happy to have him with me. For the next couple of days, we still had a hard time
with the breastfeeding, but I was determined not to give up.
Finally, my milk came in all at once. I woke up covered in it. The same day we were discharged
from the hospital and finally allowed to come home. It was another relief to be safe at home,
warm in our nest. Since then, we've been getting settled. We went through more breastfeeding
challenges, as my milk lets down far too fast and little Kylan was choking and getting gassy
when trying to feed. I was in tears watching him eat formula because he was refusing to nurse.
That was when I decided to go out and buy my breastpump. Even if he couldn't nurse, there was no
way I was going to just give up on feeding him *my* milk! Since then, things have been much
better. He hasn't had another drop of formula!
I pump milk off when I have to, and let himnurse when he can. So far it's been about 50-50, and he's actually doing a much better job at
nursing! So much for nipple confusion! I think in general he prefers the breast, but sometimes
when his tummy just needs to be filled, the bottle works well enough. I'm not concerned about
the bonding, since nothing can stop us from bonding. Already I feel like he's so attached to me.
Even when he's feeding from the bottle, he's on my chest, skin-to-skin, looking in my eyes. He's
my little angel and I love him beyond words.
Even though I didn't get the natural birth I'd wanted, I am proud of myself, my loving,
supportive DH and above all, little Kylan. We made it through and I know things are just going
to get better and better from here on out!
http://img11.imageshack.us/img11/2513/060ko3.th.jpg
http://img11.imageshack.us/img11/1559/007dn4.th.jpg
http://img11.imageshack.us/img11/2286/img0496dc4.th.jpg
http://img11.imageshack.us/img11/8792/009zz5.th.jpg
: Can't wait to hear the story and see the pics! 
:
