It has been in the back of my mind this whole pregnancy that maybe I should have gone to see a different OB for a second opinion. I never did. Not because I didn't want to but because I had been reassured by both the doctor who examined Jaxen's placenta, my OB at University Hospital and by my midwives that the chance of preterm delivery for second baby was very low and had I been in any of their care for this pregnancy they would not have had me do anything differently. If you recall, Jaxen was early due to a micro placental abruption (separation of placenta from uterine wall). They actually had to break my water with him because it wouldn't break. This [pProm] is 100% unrelated. My water totally broke and has been leaking ever since. Nothing like getting peed on every time I stand up or change positions. (That's was amniotic fluid is BTW...baby pee.) Yum.
At 32 weeks I was sent in for another growth ultrasound. That very day my OB told me that if I had been in her care she would have put me on progesterone based on the sole fact that Jaxen was early. That made me feel awful. I was miserable and on the brink of tears the whole ultrasound even though everything was looking great and baby was now measuring 4lbs 6oz (enough to clear him of a prolonged NICU stay if he had no other issues!!!) While I was waiting for the Neonatologist to come in and discuss the ultrasound findings, I could barely hold myself together. I just had to ask her about Jaxen and what she personally would have done for my care this time around. First bringing to light that hindsight is 20/20, she confessed that had I been in her care for this pregnancy she probably would not have done anything differently. I thanked her profusely for that bit of comfort and continued on with my day, content in knowing there wasn't really anything that could have been done differently.
My many weeks on hospital bed rest have been difficult. This is not just because I have a severe need to be active and find TV/movies to be totally boring but because I totally missed out on the last month where it's just me n' Jax. From now on I'm a shared commodity. I will miss all those days when it's just been the two of us even though I'm excited that baby2 will be joining us on our adventures. These weeks have also made me so grateful for all the wonderful people who stepped in to help, be it Grandma's who took shifts taking care of Jaxen, neighbors lending a helping hand, my super excellent group of friends, neighbors and husband all who took the time to come out and visit me bringing real food, flowers, game nights and just plain being with me giving my otherwise long, boring days meaning. So just as I was getting used to the idea of having 7 days left on bedrest to coordinate remaining baby-prep tasks, guess who decided to join the party...
This kid means business. First he kicks rupture the protective membranes surrounding him at 28 weeks. Then this. Six am on September 7th (33weeks, 2 days) brought so minor contractions (pain at a 1 or 2) which I treated temporarily by chugging down 1.5L of water. By 6:45 they were back but more to the tune of 3. I decided it was time to at least call a nurse. So glad Margie (one of my midwives) was on shift! She put me on the monitor which picked up steady contractions that peaked much differently on the graph than any I'd had before. Seven a.m.: I called Ben. He was quick to get on his way but at that point the plan was to watch me for an hour before doing anything else. I appeared to be 2cm dilated at that time. By the time he got to me, I was having to breath through contractions. From the get go they'd been 2-3min apart. At 8 a.m. I was 4-5cm dilated. Eight thirty/nine rolled around and I was beginning to howl through them unsure of how much longer I could hold out. They were also turning into an urge to push which the doctors were telling me to fight (adding to the pain) because they weren't ready for me in surgery yet. The anesthesiologist hadn't even arrived and I was cursing every second he wasn't there. What a relief that I never had to do this at home. (I now see I was a terrible candidate for home birth and I'm so, so, so ok with that. At this point making it out alive sounded really good.) Everyone seemed to be scrambling around at this point. When he did finally arrive we booked it to the OR. I was in so much agony at that point he could barely get me into a good position and thus the spinal failed. While I managed to get a touch of relief on my left side, I got absolutely none on my right. (The poked me with the knives to test their theory. Super glad they did.) The next step is usually a full epidural...well time was out. I was dilated 8cm. Ben was standing behind me holding my hand all smurfed out in his scrubs. I remember them hoisting up a blue fabric panel over my abdomen...squinting up at the OR lights...a triangle mask on my face but no one telling me what it was for or what was going on. Voices merged into one babbling brook of background noise somewhere in the far, far distance.
I awaken to quite voices. A bunch of people are urging me to move off the surgical bed and onto the one in my room. An unwelcome and uncomfortable proposition. This is a much different experience than on the day Jaxen was born. No magical skin to skin contact immediately after being born or those first lungfuls of life squealed with such vigor. Instead, Mr. Gavin Caron born at 10am on September 7th at 5lbs 11oz is tucked quietly into his private NICU unit about 5 steps from my bed. He is perfect, he is strong, he is calm and he is beautiful.
My many weeks on hospital bed rest have been difficult. This is not just because I have a severe need to be active and find TV/movies to be totally boring but because I totally missed out on the last month where it's just me n' Jax. From now on I'm a shared commodity. I will miss all those days when it's just been the two of us even though I'm excited that baby2 will be joining us on our adventures. These weeks have also made me so grateful for all the wonderful people who stepped in to help, be it Grandma's who took shifts taking care of Jaxen, neighbors lending a helping hand, my super excellent group of friends, neighbors and husband all who took the time to come out and visit me bringing real food, flowers, game nights and just plain being with me giving my otherwise long, boring days meaning. So just as I was getting used to the idea of having 7 days left on bedrest to coordinate remaining baby-prep tasks, guess who decided to join the party...
This kid means business. First he kicks rupture the protective membranes surrounding him at 28 weeks. Then this. Six am on September 7th (33weeks, 2 days) brought so minor contractions (pain at a 1 or 2) which I treated temporarily by chugging down 1.5L of water. By 6:45 they were back but more to the tune of 3. I decided it was time to at least call a nurse. So glad Margie (one of my midwives) was on shift! She put me on the monitor which picked up steady contractions that peaked much differently on the graph than any I'd had before. Seven a.m.: I called Ben. He was quick to get on his way but at that point the plan was to watch me for an hour before doing anything else. I appeared to be 2cm dilated at that time. By the time he got to me, I was having to breath through contractions. From the get go they'd been 2-3min apart. At 8 a.m. I was 4-5cm dilated. Eight thirty/nine rolled around and I was beginning to howl through them unsure of how much longer I could hold out. They were also turning into an urge to push which the doctors were telling me to fight (adding to the pain) because they weren't ready for me in surgery yet. The anesthesiologist hadn't even arrived and I was cursing every second he wasn't there. What a relief that I never had to do this at home. (I now see I was a terrible candidate for home birth and I'm so, so, so ok with that. At this point making it out alive sounded really good.) Everyone seemed to be scrambling around at this point. When he did finally arrive we booked it to the OR. I was in so much agony at that point he could barely get me into a good position and thus the spinal failed. While I managed to get a touch of relief on my left side, I got absolutely none on my right. (The poked me with the knives to test their theory. Super glad they did.) The next step is usually a full epidural...well time was out. I was dilated 8cm. Ben was standing behind me holding my hand all smurfed out in his scrubs. I remember them hoisting up a blue fabric panel over my abdomen...squinting up at the OR lights...a triangle mask on my face but no one telling me what it was for or what was going on. Voices merged into one babbling brook of background noise somewhere in the far, far distance.
You're amazing.
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