Wednesday, June 27, 2012

My Wish...

It's been a while since I've posted anything. Mostly because I am truly too busy with the little one to even sit down and write anything that makes any sense, but he's finally napping not in my arms, so I'm going to try. 
*Fingers crossed I finish before he wakes up*

So, the entire time I was pregnant, every time the song "My Wish" by Rascal Flatts came on the radio, I would think about my unborn child and start to cry.

The song really does say exactly what I feel as a parent, and what I want for my child.

An excerpt for those that don't know the song:

"...I hope you never look back, but ya never forget,
All the ones who love you, in the place you left,
I hope you always forgive, and you never regret,
And you help somebody every chance you get,
Oh, you find God's grace, in every mistake,
And you always give more than you take.

But more than anything, yeah, and more than anything,
My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to,
Your dreams stay big, and your worries stay small,
You never need to carry more than you can hold,
And while you're out there getting where you're getting to,
I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,
Yeah, this, is my wish..."

I tear up EVERY.TIME I listen to this song. 

I'll post more tomorrow. I'll leave you this to giggle at for now.



Tuesday, June 12, 2012

ONE MONTH

To My Beautiful Baby Boy:

Today you are one month old. 

You're currently laying asleep on my arm, making it very difficult to type, but I wouldn't dare move you, not only for fear of waking you up, but also because I know this time of you sleeping on me or with me will soon be gone, and I dread it. 

In the past month, we've gotten to know each other pretty well. We've pretty much mastered breast feeding, and I think we've both become very fond of your pacifier or "ninny" as I like to call it.

It seems like every day you are smiling more and more and trying to "talk" and it's just about the most adorable thing I've ever seen. 

Last night, while laying in your bassinet, you knocked your ninny out of your mouth with your hands. I watched as you tried to get it back in your mouth on your own, but you couldn't quite do it, so I was right there to help.

I'll always be right there to help, and I think you know that already. Sometimes when you look at me, I can see the trust in your eyes, and I fall even more in love with you. 

We've gotten into a pretty good "routine" at this point. We usually wake up between 6 and 8 and nurse, and then are up for about an hour or two. Then, we take a nap and get back up anywhere from 10-12. The day goes on with nursing, two hours of play, an hour nap. Repeat. Over, and over and over again.
Around 8 or 9 we get a bath (on bath nights), lotion up, jammies on, nurse and we're down for the count. You usually wake up about twice a night, for a quick feeding, and we're back to the beginning.

By the way, you LOVE your baths. Whenever I can't calm you down, a bath will always do the trick. You also LOVE the hairdryer we keep by your changing table to dry out "your area" before putting on a new diaper (we WILL NOT get diaper rash in this house!) Your favorite positions are laying on either mine or Daddy's chest, and you love to just be snuggled tight. 

So that's our on month update little boy. 
I want time to just slow down already.

I love you more than you'll ever know.


Again Graphic. And Long.

The Birth Story

Part Two


We had made our way to the hospital. The entire mile long trip that seemed like 70 miles. Every bump, turn, and stop sign along the way were seriously intensified. 
(A little something no one bothers to tell you)

We went to the registration desk, and the woman checking me in looked mortified. I guess I wasn't very attractive at that point, and the look on my face told her I was in pain, because she didn't wait for a nurse to come down from the maternity floor, she herself started to wheel me up. A nurse had met us half way and after a quick elevator ride, we were on the maternity floor.

I bypassed the triage room (the awful room I spent many hours in just five days earlier) and was put in a labor and delivery room. One nurse came in and quickly took my vitals and hooked me up to the monitors. While she was doing that, she told me that she had a "Mom" getting ready to deliver, so she couldn't stay long. Once she left, another nurse and lab tech came in to take my blood and get my IV hooked up. 

Things from there start to get a little blurry.

For a definite, my nurse that was with me until 7 pm came in and started filling me in on things that would happen and began asking me the questions that they needed to know. She also started my penicillin drip, because I was positive for GBS. This was a MISERABLE experience. 

Apparently the hospital had just gotten a "new IV drip system" or something, and this nurse, along with all the other nurses working the entire time I was in labor, had no idea how to work these new systems. Instead of diluting the penicillin with my actual IV fluids, they ran it straight. So not only was I having extreme contractions but my forearm felt like it was on FIRE and going to fall off. Talk about pissing off a woman in labor.

Another definite was that the midwife that was at the hospital all day, and was expecting me came in and checked me. At 2:30, NINE hours into labor, I was 2 cm dilated and still about 80% effaced. 
At that point, I knew I had a LONG road ahead of me. 

The hospital had a nice big jacuzzi tub for laboring mother's to sit in, and that was the first thing I requested to do. My nurse took my IV off and closed the site so I could get the area wet, I changed into the swimsuit I thoughtfully packed, and I was off to the tub.

For the next two hours or so, I sat and relaxed in the wonderful tub. It was seriously amazing until the water started getting cold, and my contractions became more intense. We went back, and I was checked again. No progression. So I was told to walk around.

After walking for a bit, I was completely exhausted and asked for some type of drug I could get through my IV to help take the edge off so I could relax, and maybe even sleep. I was told I could get the drug, and they just had to get it out of the pharmacy. After an hour, and still not having anything, my nurse came back and told me that they were actually out of the drug, so there was nothing I could get, and that my midwife wanted me up and walking around some more.
(Enter evil death glares here)

More time had passed, and I had had enough. I talked with my midwife, and we decided that it was time for me to have the epidural, and that way they could push pitocin and really get things moving. This was at 7:30 pm,  FOURTEEN hours into labor.

Two hours of waiting for the anesthesiologist, and it was finally my turn for the good stuff.

This was also a dreadfully memorable experience as well.

In the sixth grade, I was diagnosed with scoliosis, so I let the anesthesiologist know, and wouldn't you know, the curvature in my spine happened exactly where he needed to put the catheter for my epidural. Because of this, there was a lot of fishing around in my spine on his part, and a lot of screaming on mine.

Once it was in and done, we went through the scariest part of the entire labor. As the meds worked their way down my body, it caused my blood pressure to sky rocket, and Baby's heart rate to drop.

All I remember is being very spaced out, and not able to focus on anyone or really comprehend what they were saying to me. I was rolled to my left side, oxygen put on and they pushed some sort of drug that brought my blood pressure back down. The baby's heart rate came back to normal, and we were back in business.

My midwife checked me and I was at 4 cm.

My nurse ordered that I get some sleep, and for the next four and a half hours, Dean, my Mom and I attempted to sleep, however constant alarms going off in my room prevented us from doing so. We never found out what the alarms meant, but we just continually turned them off after the nurse had the first few times with no worry.

At about 2 am, my nurse came in and checked me, and I had only progressed to 5 cm.

Completely relaxed, and four hours later, and I only progressed 1 cm?!

It was time for the pitocin.

They started the drip, and luckily it didn't effect the baby at all, so I was well on my way to having the little guy.

The next three hours was more pretending to sleep and watching TV.

When they came back at 5 am to check me, I was 8 cm.

FINALLY. Some progress. Except from this point on, I was throwing up every 15 minutes, and began getting the shakes.
Transition.

My nurse had started getting the delivery cart together, and warned the midwife of my condition.

At about 6:30, I felt an enormous pressure and kept telling the nurse that I needed to push. After being told several times that I wasn't ready to, the nurse finally gave in and told me that if I needed to push, I should just push.

The midwife came in prepared to check me and determine the baby's location.
(I'd like to point out that at this point that my water has yet to break)

Just as the midwife was about to check me, my water burst.
Not broke... BURST.
Dean claims my water shot all the way across the room, but I think he was exaggerating.

Everyone in the room heard the pop, and somehow my midwife matrix moved out of the way so as to not get any on her. My water was a pea green, there was definitely meconium in the waters.

They had cleaned me up, and my midwife checked me. As she did, the nurse informed her that I had been complaining that I needed to push for a while.

Instead of getting a number of where I was, the midwife, with a VERY shocked expression looked at the nurse and said, "uh, his head is right there..."

Quicker than I knew it, the room filled with tons of people. Extra people for the baby because he passed meconium in the water, people for me, and wouldn't you know it, it was 7 am... shift change.

The nurse and midwife that were with me for the whole process so far had left and I had a new midwife  (the midwife I had just seen in office before going to the hospital the day before!) and nurse to deliver the baby. Honestly, I was fine with this because the nurse and midwife I had for my labor didn't make me a happy or comfortable mom to be.

It was time to push. Dean's mom took a position at my head, my mom had my left leg beside her, and Dean worked his way to the foot of the table and watched the whole thing. A mirror was brought in like I requested, and the pushing began.

19 minutes later, my baby boy was born.


Dean Anakin Reiter Pennington
May 12, 2012
7:19 AM
7 lbs 11 oz
21" long


Dean cried. I cried. Our Mom's cried.

He's perfect in every way.
25.5 hours in labor, 19 minutes of pushing, and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.
I have never felt a love quite like this and I wouldn't trade it for the world.


Thursday, June 7, 2012

This is going to get graphic... just a warning

The Birth Story

Part 1


It started on Friday, May 11, 2012 at 5:30 am.

I was quickly woken out of a dead sleep with contractions.

Dean was at work and my first thought was that he was going to have to go through this with no sleep. But, maybe not. Maybe it was false labor again. So I started timing.

For a full hour my contractions were 6 minutes apart. So I decided to make the call, and let Dean know he needed to come home early and get some sleep, that we would be having a baby this weekend.

Dean came home, and laid down to try and get some sleep, and I kept contracting, and timing. (Contraction timer apps on iPhones are SUPER).

Around 10 am, my contractions had jumped from 6 minutes apart to 2 minutes, and I was DYING. (I'd also like to add that the whole time I was contracting, I couldn't stay out of the bathroom. I was either throwing up, or going number two, which scared me each time, thinking I was going to have my baby in the toilet... terrible TV shows scaring innocent women.)

I woke Dean, told him it was time to call, and proceeded to work on finishing the hospital bag. My midwife group wanted me to come to the office first, so they could check me and see if it was worth going to the hospital at that point.

We went to the office, and after waiting what seemed like hours, (it was really only 10 minutes) the midwife came in, and checked me.

80% effaced, and still 1 cm

She could tell by looking at me though, that I was in definite labor. She told me to go home for a few hours, walk around, get everything ready, and then head to the hospital. In the meantime, she was going to call the midwife at the hospital, and let them know I'd be in and to expect me.

So we went home. We made the "It's Time" phone calls, and I went to lay down and suffer through a few more hours of contractions, vomiting, and diarrhea.

Around 2:30, I decided I had waited long enough and we made our way to the hospital. By the time we got there, I could barely walk.


I. Was. Miserable.