It was about 10:15 or 10:20 on Monday night. I was in the kitchen getting myself a snack, since I hadn't really felt much like dinner that evening. I had spent a good portion of the day in the bathroom going poo, and I really didn't have much of an appetite. I felt and heard a little pop, and felt something warm running down my legs. My feet got wet. I knew that I had waited too long to go to the bathroom, and I thought maybe Milo had kicked my bladder hard enough to make me pee (which had never happened before, but there's a first time for everything, right?). I went and cleaned myself up, and cleaned up the kitchen floor. I suspected that my water broke, but I wasn't positive. I was only trickling small amounts of fluid, and it seemed to stop when I wasn't standing. I wasn't having any contractions though... besides the normal Braxton Hicks contractions that I'd been having for a couple of months.
We assumed that even if it was my water breaking, we had plenty of time. After all, this was my first pregnancy. I took my snack to the bedroom and turned on the tv. We watched tv for a few minutes, then the phone rang. One of the women from my August 2006 Expecting Club called me to tell me that she had delivered her baby. While I was talking to her, a pretty good sized puddle appeared at my feet. I grabbed a waterproof sheet (changing pad) and tossed it on the couch so I could post about Yvonne's new baby. I noticed there were a couple people still in chat, so I popped in there too, to ask if they thought it could have been my water, or something else. I was still in denial a bit, but I still wasn't having any contractions. I went to add some things to the hospital bag that I'd started weeks before. Pat had a huge grin on his face. He knew it was time, even if I wasn't sure. Finally, I felt a small pain in my lower belly. It was my first real contraction. It was followed by another, about 8 minutes later. I took a shower, while he continued packing.
I showered before my next contraction hit. At 8 minutes or so apart, I wasn't worried at all. But, 8 minutes didn't last. The next was only 5 minutes... and then a couple more like that. We called the midwife. I told her the situation and she told me to come in, but that there was no rush. None of us expected that the contractions were about to drastically change. Before we knew it, the contractions, which were now primarily in my back, were about a minute apart, and were accompanied by a VERY strong urge to push. I dropped to my hands and knees with each contraction to relieve the back pain, as Pat put pressure on my lower back. We knew we had to leave right away. I made a couple of phone calls and posted to the board that were were on our way before we headed out the door. I stopped on the front porch to get on my hands and knees for a contraction before heading to the car.
The car ride to the hospital (a 20 minute drive) seemed to take forever. With each contraction, the urge to push got stronger. I held my hand against Milo's exit, desperately trying to keep him from making his entrance to the world in a moving vehicle. I could no longer keep from pushing.
We arrived at the hospital, left the car at the curb, and began to walk to Labor & Delivery. We entered through the Children's Hospital entrance, and turned right toward the Women's Hospital. We didn't make it far before the next contraction caused me to bend forward. I felt Milo's head begin to leave my body. I told Pat that his head was coming out... and that I couldn't stop pushing. He didn't seem to believe me, so I had him reach up the leg of my shorts to feel. He ran to the security guard desk for help. The guard called a "Stork Code," alerting Labor & Delivery and the NICU of a problem in the lobby. When Pat returned to my side, he found me on my hands and knees. I told him that the baby was coming, and that he needed to take my pants off and catch him. I pushed about 3 times, and out popped baby Milo, less than three hours after my water broke.
The Stork team still hadn't arrived, and little Milo was born, and was already crying in his daddy's arms. A visitor to the hospital handed Pat her jacket to wrap Milo up. I waited there, on my hands and knees as about 20 or so people surrounded us. One team took Milo and checked him over in a portable warmer. Another group surrounded me, helped me into a wheelchair, and made sure I was ok. I sent Pat to the car to get the camera. He returned in no time at all, and some of the bystanders took pictures for us. Somehow in the commotion, Milo was accidentally pulled too far from me, and the umbilical cord broke with a tug. I was a bit worried, but they quickly clamped his end, and a nurse grabbed and held onto my end.
I was allowed to hold Milo and we had some pictures taken before we were both wheeled up to Labor & Delivery.
When we arrived upstairs, people were in awe of what had just happened. That amazement lasted for our entire stay at the hospital. We were quite popular because of our amazing story, and everyone wanted to congratulate us, and hear the story first hand. Pat was praised by everyone for being the "delivering doctor" for the "lobby baby" birth. One nurse said she was surprised that no reporters had been up to see us yet. I'm kinda glad there were none!
We were taken to our L&D room, where I was moved into the bed. I immediately delivered the placenta, which looked perfect. Next, I breastfed little Milo for the very first time. I felt amazing. I was full of energy, and the only pain I felt was a slight crampiness in my belly as I fed my baby boy. Things were great.... but not for long.
Milo continued to do great. Pat held him as the midwife stitched up my battle scars - a couple of tiny first degree tears. Three quick stitches and we were done... but I was bleeding and passing clots. The bleeding wasn't stopping as it should have, and the clots kept coming. I was losing a lot of blood, and they determined that I needed IV fluids right away.
It took 6 tries to get an IV line started. It was in my right hand. While they were attempting to get that started, I drank about 64 ounces of water. I wanted to help my situation as much as I could. With the IV in place, and fluids set up, I hoped things would improve. Unfortunately, they only got worse. The clots continued to form and had to be pushed out of me by the nurse pressing HARD on my uterus. This was done about every 15 minutes. Just as it seemed it was slowing down, the next round of uterine massage brought more clots... and bigger. They told me that they were going to examine me to see if they could see what was going on. Out came the speculum, and in it went. The midwife wiped down the inside of my uterus with some gauze pads, and tried to find the problem. She couldn't find anything, so she called in a doctor to help. The doctor examined me, and did even more prodding, scraping, and poking. I was told that the bleeding was continuing, and they still couldn't see why. I was in a very dangerous situation at that point. I was in need of a D&C to find and repair the problem, and I needed a blood transfusion due to the extreme amount of blood I had lost.
A team was assembled quickly, and I was wheeled to the operating room for the emergency procedure. There, a team began to prep me. There were at least 5 people at one time working furiously to get another IV line started for the transfusion - one at each of my feet, two on my left arm, and at least one on my right. I'm told that I was poked 20 or 30 times before they finally started an IV in my neck.
The D&C itself didn't take much time. I was sedated, but I think I was only away from Pat and Milo for about an hour. I was awake and alert enough that I was able to feed Milo when it was time for him to eat next.
Through the entire ordeal, I stayed cheerful. I can't say I wasn't a little worried, but I never panicked. I stayed calm, and I tried to make sure everyone else stayed calm, happy, and entertained. I guess that's sort of my way of dealing with pain, trauma and tense situations. It worked very well for me, and I'm very proud of myself for doing so well.
It turned out that I needed 2 units of blood to get me stable. The stitches I had received earlier were compromised during the process, so I had to have them replaced. I was groggy, pale, full of holes and VERY bruised when I was reunited with my family. I was so happy to see Pat and Milo again. I didn't want to be apart from either of them again any time soon.
I recovered well, though I looked horrible. I had an IV line in my neck, which fed me the last of my second unit of blood, as well as my antibiotics. I had fluid entering through an IV in my hand. The bruises and swellings from the many failed IV attempts left me looking very, very battered. I didn't care. I was ravenously hungry when the breakfast tray arrived, and I woofed it down. I fed Milo again, and tried to rest a bit. I had to wait in L&D for a while to make sure I was stable before we were allowed to go to our nice room in Recovery. Looking at the photos now, it's startling to see how quickly my appearance had changed. In a matter of only a few hours, I went from absolutely glowing to pale, pasty and very sick looking... but still smiling, though groggy.
The rest of the stay at the hospital went well. It seemed I was always hungry, and I was always happy when the Dietary department knocked on my door. Every nurse who cared for Milo and me was great. They were all excited to meet the family with such an exciting delivery and aftermath. I spent the night there with my husband and our new baby in the room. We didn't get much sleep, but we didn't mind at all.
Milo was born absolutely perfect, with apgars of 9 and 9, and no problems to be found at all. I recovered much more quickly than anyone expected, and was given the option of going home after only one night, just as anyone with a normal birth would have. They said we could stay one more night if I felt we needed to, but we just wanted to go home with our baby and get started with our new life.
We're all home, and doing great. The only medications I'm on are prenatal vitamins, iron (to help with my blood replenishment), colace to keep the iron from binding me up, and ibuprofen, if I need it for pain. We're very thankful that things turned out so well, and we're looking forward to some calm, completely non-dramatic time at home together. Now, all we have to do is teach Milo that speed isn't always a good thing. I think we'll take things slow from now on.
-Jen.
We assumed that even if it was my water breaking, we had plenty of time. After all, this was my first pregnancy. I took my snack to the bedroom and turned on the tv. We watched tv for a few minutes, then the phone rang. One of the women from my August 2006 Expecting Club called me to tell me that she had delivered her baby. While I was talking to her, a pretty good sized puddle appeared at my feet. I grabbed a waterproof sheet (changing pad) and tossed it on the couch so I could post about Yvonne's new baby. I noticed there were a couple people still in chat, so I popped in there too, to ask if they thought it could have been my water, or something else. I was still in denial a bit, but I still wasn't having any contractions. I went to add some things to the hospital bag that I'd started weeks before. Pat had a huge grin on his face. He knew it was time, even if I wasn't sure. Finally, I felt a small pain in my lower belly. It was my first real contraction. It was followed by another, about 8 minutes later. I took a shower, while he continued packing.
I showered before my next contraction hit. At 8 minutes or so apart, I wasn't worried at all. But, 8 minutes didn't last. The next was only 5 minutes... and then a couple more like that. We called the midwife. I told her the situation and she told me to come in, but that there was no rush. None of us expected that the contractions were about to drastically change. Before we knew it, the contractions, which were now primarily in my back, were about a minute apart, and were accompanied by a VERY strong urge to push. I dropped to my hands and knees with each contraction to relieve the back pain, as Pat put pressure on my lower back. We knew we had to leave right away. I made a couple of phone calls and posted to the board that were were on our way before we headed out the door. I stopped on the front porch to get on my hands and knees for a contraction before heading to the car.
The car ride to the hospital (a 20 minute drive) seemed to take forever. With each contraction, the urge to push got stronger. I held my hand against Milo's exit, desperately trying to keep him from making his entrance to the world in a moving vehicle. I could no longer keep from pushing.
We arrived at the hospital, left the car at the curb, and began to walk to Labor & Delivery. We entered through the Children's Hospital entrance, and turned right toward the Women's Hospital. We didn't make it far before the next contraction caused me to bend forward. I felt Milo's head begin to leave my body. I told Pat that his head was coming out... and that I couldn't stop pushing. He didn't seem to believe me, so I had him reach up the leg of my shorts to feel. He ran to the security guard desk for help. The guard called a "Stork Code," alerting Labor & Delivery and the NICU of a problem in the lobby. When Pat returned to my side, he found me on my hands and knees. I told him that the baby was coming, and that he needed to take my pants off and catch him. I pushed about 3 times, and out popped baby Milo, less than three hours after my water broke.
The Stork team still hadn't arrived, and little Milo was born, and was already crying in his daddy's arms. A visitor to the hospital handed Pat her jacket to wrap Milo up. I waited there, on my hands and knees as about 20 or so people surrounded us. One team took Milo and checked him over in a portable warmer. Another group surrounded me, helped me into a wheelchair, and made sure I was ok. I sent Pat to the car to get the camera. He returned in no time at all, and some of the bystanders took pictures for us. Somehow in the commotion, Milo was accidentally pulled too far from me, and the umbilical cord broke with a tug. I was a bit worried, but they quickly clamped his end, and a nurse grabbed and held onto my end.
I was allowed to hold Milo and we had some pictures taken before we were both wheeled up to Labor & Delivery.
When we arrived upstairs, people were in awe of what had just happened. That amazement lasted for our entire stay at the hospital. We were quite popular because of our amazing story, and everyone wanted to congratulate us, and hear the story first hand. Pat was praised by everyone for being the "delivering doctor" for the "lobby baby" birth. One nurse said she was surprised that no reporters had been up to see us yet. I'm kinda glad there were none!
We were taken to our L&D room, where I was moved into the bed. I immediately delivered the placenta, which looked perfect. Next, I breastfed little Milo for the very first time. I felt amazing. I was full of energy, and the only pain I felt was a slight crampiness in my belly as I fed my baby boy. Things were great.... but not for long.
Milo continued to do great. Pat held him as the midwife stitched up my battle scars - a couple of tiny first degree tears. Three quick stitches and we were done... but I was bleeding and passing clots. The bleeding wasn't stopping as it should have, and the clots kept coming. I was losing a lot of blood, and they determined that I needed IV fluids right away.
It took 6 tries to get an IV line started. It was in my right hand. While they were attempting to get that started, I drank about 64 ounces of water. I wanted to help my situation as much as I could. With the IV in place, and fluids set up, I hoped things would improve. Unfortunately, they only got worse. The clots continued to form and had to be pushed out of me by the nurse pressing HARD on my uterus. This was done about every 15 minutes. Just as it seemed it was slowing down, the next round of uterine massage brought more clots... and bigger. They told me that they were going to examine me to see if they could see what was going on. Out came the speculum, and in it went. The midwife wiped down the inside of my uterus with some gauze pads, and tried to find the problem. She couldn't find anything, so she called in a doctor to help. The doctor examined me, and did even more prodding, scraping, and poking. I was told that the bleeding was continuing, and they still couldn't see why. I was in a very dangerous situation at that point. I was in need of a D&C to find and repair the problem, and I needed a blood transfusion due to the extreme amount of blood I had lost.
A team was assembled quickly, and I was wheeled to the operating room for the emergency procedure. There, a team began to prep me. There were at least 5 people at one time working furiously to get another IV line started for the transfusion - one at each of my feet, two on my left arm, and at least one on my right. I'm told that I was poked 20 or 30 times before they finally started an IV in my neck.
The D&C itself didn't take much time. I was sedated, but I think I was only away from Pat and Milo for about an hour. I was awake and alert enough that I was able to feed Milo when it was time for him to eat next.
Through the entire ordeal, I stayed cheerful. I can't say I wasn't a little worried, but I never panicked. I stayed calm, and I tried to make sure everyone else stayed calm, happy, and entertained. I guess that's sort of my way of dealing with pain, trauma and tense situations. It worked very well for me, and I'm very proud of myself for doing so well.
It turned out that I needed 2 units of blood to get me stable. The stitches I had received earlier were compromised during the process, so I had to have them replaced. I was groggy, pale, full of holes and VERY bruised when I was reunited with my family. I was so happy to see Pat and Milo again. I didn't want to be apart from either of them again any time soon.
I recovered well, though I looked horrible. I had an IV line in my neck, which fed me the last of my second unit of blood, as well as my antibiotics. I had fluid entering through an IV in my hand. The bruises and swellings from the many failed IV attempts left me looking very, very battered. I didn't care. I was ravenously hungry when the breakfast tray arrived, and I woofed it down. I fed Milo again, and tried to rest a bit. I had to wait in L&D for a while to make sure I was stable before we were allowed to go to our nice room in Recovery. Looking at the photos now, it's startling to see how quickly my appearance had changed. In a matter of only a few hours, I went from absolutely glowing to pale, pasty and very sick looking... but still smiling, though groggy.
The rest of the stay at the hospital went well. It seemed I was always hungry, and I was always happy when the Dietary department knocked on my door. Every nurse who cared for Milo and me was great. They were all excited to meet the family with such an exciting delivery and aftermath. I spent the night there with my husband and our new baby in the room. We didn't get much sleep, but we didn't mind at all.
Milo was born absolutely perfect, with apgars of 9 and 9, and no problems to be found at all. I recovered much more quickly than anyone expected, and was given the option of going home after only one night, just as anyone with a normal birth would have. They said we could stay one more night if I felt we needed to, but we just wanted to go home with our baby and get started with our new life.
We're all home, and doing great. The only medications I'm on are prenatal vitamins, iron (to help with my blood replenishment), colace to keep the iron from binding me up, and ibuprofen, if I need it for pain. We're very thankful that things turned out so well, and we're looking forward to some calm, completely non-dramatic time at home together. Now, all we have to do is teach Milo that speed isn't always a good thing. I think we'll take things slow from now on.
-Jen.
