Wheeled into the anaesthetic bay, hooked up to some weird white bag of fluid in a net. Local anasthetic shot in the arm/inside elbow joint for mother of all canula's to be inserted for morphine afterwards.
Ian sat with me while they prepared the theatre. I could hear them with all the clamps and things clanging about, bear in mind I am scared as all hell, Ian says, "sounds like a kitchen in there". Feel like I'm going to vomit at the thought.
Someone comes in and says that they're ready for me, I start to cry and say goodbye to Ian. He looks absolutely terrified and quite hilarious in his scrubs and hat. I tell the theatre staff that I am keeping my eyes closed because I am too scared to see medical equipment/operating table etc. They all laugh. I hate them all.
I'm asked to move over onto the "skinny bed" ie the operating table. It's cold. As soon as I lay down, they were sticking those heart monitor things to my chest, the BP cuff is wrapped around my arm and I'm asked to lay my arms on the arm boards where one of my arms is tied down.
The anaesthetist did tell me before hand that I once the mask was on I'd feel a lot of pressure in my throat, it'd feel like I had a golf ball stuck in there, he'd said. He was right. When the mask was first put on I couldn't sense any form of gas coming out of it and I was convinced he was suffocating me!! I pulled the mask off and said, "there's nothing coming out", and he told me there was and put the mask back on. I can remember the golf ball feeling so well, I kept grabbing my throat to make it stop, then I heard them say, "Okay she's out, let's get on with it" FARK! I was desperately trying to say, "I'm awake" and that was the last thing I remember.
I woke up in recovery around 5.20pm in so.much.pain. Nurse asks me how I'm feeling, I sob "It hurts so much!" and she says "oh, you're not hooked up to your pain relief" and connects the morphine to my canula. Fat lot of good it does, it just seems to make me itchy. Nurse comes back and I ask her if I had a girl. She says "yes", does my obs and goes again while I go back ot sleep. We repeat this at least another 3 times. Just before I'm transferred back to the ward, they realise I'm still on the theatre sheet (which is covered in blood and god knows what else) and they ask me to roll off it. You have got to be kidding me I think. It hurts so bad, I can't even explain!
Back on the ward, Ian is holding Isla, I am on oxygen and have hideous after-birth contractions, surgery pain and double vision, as well as the itchy and slight nausea from the morphine, I feel dreadful. I can't hold Isla because I am not well enough. Initially, I am scared to look at her, I can't explain why.
I wont go into the whole visitors thing again.
The next day, I am able to hold Isla in the morning, around 11am. The nurses looked after her overnight so I could rest. I give her a bottle and can't quite figure out how to hold her properly. Around 2pm I'm moved from my home of the past few weeks in the ante-natal ward to the post-natal ward. Room-mate askes staff to leave me there so she can help me look after Isla, and so she doesn't get a feral roomie. They insist I have to go.
Luckily, I get a private room, which I am in for about 5 minutes before visitors arrive. It takes 2 ward staff 2 trips each to move all the stuff I'd accumulated in my old room to the new one. My half sister and my nephew arrive, followed by my Dad. About half an hour after they leave my Nan arrives and my Mum - this is a big thing for my Mum, she is terribly afraid of hospitals and had tried to visit me once before Isla was born but couldn't stop crying or shaking, she only lasted about a minute.
Nurse comes in and says it's time to take out the catheter, so Mum and Nan leave. With the catheter out, I'm now free to get up out of bed and walk around. A few hours later a midwife came to help me with Isla and to help me out of bed and into the bathroom for a shower and to use the toilet while Ian gives Isla a bottle. I am certain my stomach is ripping apart as I get out of bed. Try to go to the bathroom, and I can't go. Midwife says to keep trying, and I do, I really need to pee, but I can't. After about 30 minutes of trying she suggests I shower as the running water may help me go. No such luck.
Over the course of the next few hours, I found myself sitting on the loo for long stretches of time, but not being able to pee. It hurt! At one point, a clot came out, I called the nurse and she didn't know what it was, it wasn't blood-like, more jelly like. Possibly a piece of placenta, they're not sure. It sits on the nurses desk and is passed around in the hope someone will know what it is. Hideous stink that was coming from me now disappears too. According to Ian, it was the worst thing he's ever smelt (which is particularly unnerving considering he used to work for a mortuary transfer business and picked up dead bodies for a living). The 'thing' is sent to pathology for identification.
All through that night I still couldn't pee. Around 3am it becomes unbearable. I can't stand up, I am in way too much pain to walk to the bathroom. I call a nurse and ask for a bedpan, I explain it hurts too bad, begrudgingly, she brings me one - and I still can't go. 6am my body starts convulsing from the pain and pressure in my bladder. I should point out that all the while, the nurses were telling me to drink more water. I'd had about 3 litres at this point.
I call a nurse, who gives me 2 bottles of water and ural sachets to drink, and I do. She gets the portable ultrasound machine and puts it on me, and says, "there's only 100mLs in your bladder!" HA! She finally gets sick of me complaining and says she'll have to put in a catheter, I think this was more of a threat than an offer, but I insist she does it. She gives me an injection first then puts it in, and hey presto! out comes 2 litres of pee immediately. She had to empty the bag straight away. I can't explain the relief I felt at that moment!
Am released on the Tuesday to come home (Isla was born on the Thursday).
Friday, August 1, 2008
Reliving the past...Part II
I remember it coming close to Christmas day and I wanted to go home. Christmas Eve I had a big breakdown, I yelled and cried at an idiotic Dr and a lovely midwife because I wanted to go home. I'd been in that hospital for 3 weeks and I was completely jack of it. Everyone else was busy making plans on how they'd celebrate and the hospital refused me a day pass to even go home for a few hours, even my room-mate was allowed to go home and drink champagne. Ian visited first thing in the morning with presents (He's shocking at picking presents, he brought me a giant teddy bear and "Guess Who" which would have been great presents if I were 6 years old). My Nan, Aunt, Uncle & cousins visited for about 15 minutes then everyone left. It wasn't even lunch time yet. That day was really, really sad. All the midwives I was accustomed to seeing were rostered off and the ward was full of temps. I was alone in my room with shitful Xmas day tv, and all I could hear outside were visitors for the other patients and crying babies.
So there were lots of APH's happening left right and centre. I can't remember exactly when and how far apart they were anymore. I'd seen a few different OB's while I was in that hospital, the one I was assigned to, said that they'd aim for 36-37wks before delivering, another OB, Jennifer, said that I'd have to make it to 38 weeks, and another Raymound, said there is no reason that I couldn't make it to 40 weeks! Although Jennifer told me all the OBs were on holidays and there wouldn't be any elective c-sections until around the 10th of January. Holy hell. Luckily, I guess, with the frequency of bleeding that I had, they decided after Christmas that I would be delivered with my "next significant bleed". This was sited on my notes.
New Years Eve. There was the most hideous midwife working this shift, along with one totally brilliant one. Room-mate and I were asleep by about 9.30pm, nothing much to celebrate when you're stuck in hospital while everyone else is off partying. Ian called at Midnight. Hideous midwife had champagne and waltzed into our room with the bottle saying things like "what a shame you can't have any". Bitch. I remember a patient in another room had an emergency and you could hear the brilliant midwife calling the hideous one, who was just leisurely walking the hallways, not to be hurried. The brilliant midwife was screaming at her to hurry and had pressed the alarm button for the OB to attend. I bled around 3am. I remember laying in bed terrified to press the nurses buzzer because I wasn't at all ready for an emergency c-section, nor was I ready to deal with an idiotic midwife, but after a few minutes I buzzed.
She came into my room and said, "Yes, what is it this time". "I'm bleeding", I say as I wait for her to page the OB to get me ready with canulas, strap me to the CTG and prep me for surgery - the canulas and CTG monitoring are procedure during an episode of bleeding. Instead, she didn't call for a Dr, nor did she put me on the CTG, instead she retreived a doppler from her pocket, put it on my tummy for 20 seconds and said, "The baby is fine" and left. I should add, the doppler was hers from home and not approved for her to use on the ward. I was left alone until 8am when I had my next round of observations.
One Dr, "Raymond" would see me every few days when he did rounds, and in an utterly bizarre run of coincidences, every time he visited me, I would haemorrhage within 12 hours, despite him not laying a finger on me. He was the Dr to visit me on New Years Day. He joked that seeing as though I always bled after seeing him, he was tempted not to visit me that morning, but said it was all okay because if I was to bleed I'd be delivered anyway. So, I said to him, "I bled last night" and he looked as though I'd hit him in the head with a hammer, there was NOTHING written in my notes about my bleeding. I should have been delivered. He was furious and stormed out of the room to see what had happened.
I didn't hear anymore of it though, but dreaded that woman being on shift in the future. (I still think to this day I should write to the NUM and report it, fat lot of good it would do, but it may help me personally).
I was visited during the week by my OB who said that I'd been put on the theatre list for Friday, 7.1.06, I was first on the list, so if there were no emergencies, I'd be going in at 1pm. Scary and exciting all at once to know that I would be a Mum on Friday. I rang Ian to tell him, told Mum and Nan. Repeated my wishes for absolutely no visitors that day, it was to be our family time, no if's or but's.
So there were lots of APH's happening left right and centre. I can't remember exactly when and how far apart they were anymore. I'd seen a few different OB's while I was in that hospital, the one I was assigned to, said that they'd aim for 36-37wks before delivering, another OB, Jennifer, said that I'd have to make it to 38 weeks, and another Raymound, said there is no reason that I couldn't make it to 40 weeks! Although Jennifer told me all the OBs were on holidays and there wouldn't be any elective c-sections until around the 10th of January. Holy hell. Luckily, I guess, with the frequency of bleeding that I had, they decided after Christmas that I would be delivered with my "next significant bleed". This was sited on my notes.
New Years Eve. There was the most hideous midwife working this shift, along with one totally brilliant one. Room-mate and I were asleep by about 9.30pm, nothing much to celebrate when you're stuck in hospital while everyone else is off partying. Ian called at Midnight. Hideous midwife had champagne and waltzed into our room with the bottle saying things like "what a shame you can't have any". Bitch. I remember a patient in another room had an emergency and you could hear the brilliant midwife calling the hideous one, who was just leisurely walking the hallways, not to be hurried. The brilliant midwife was screaming at her to hurry and had pressed the alarm button for the OB to attend. I bled around 3am. I remember laying in bed terrified to press the nurses buzzer because I wasn't at all ready for an emergency c-section, nor was I ready to deal with an idiotic midwife, but after a few minutes I buzzed.
She came into my room and said, "Yes, what is it this time". "I'm bleeding", I say as I wait for her to page the OB to get me ready with canulas, strap me to the CTG and prep me for surgery - the canulas and CTG monitoring are procedure during an episode of bleeding. Instead, she didn't call for a Dr, nor did she put me on the CTG, instead she retreived a doppler from her pocket, put it on my tummy for 20 seconds and said, "The baby is fine" and left. I should add, the doppler was hers from home and not approved for her to use on the ward. I was left alone until 8am when I had my next round of observations.
One Dr, "Raymond" would see me every few days when he did rounds, and in an utterly bizarre run of coincidences, every time he visited me, I would haemorrhage within 12 hours, despite him not laying a finger on me. He was the Dr to visit me on New Years Day. He joked that seeing as though I always bled after seeing him, he was tempted not to visit me that morning, but said it was all okay because if I was to bleed I'd be delivered anyway. So, I said to him, "I bled last night" and he looked as though I'd hit him in the head with a hammer, there was NOTHING written in my notes about my bleeding. I should have been delivered. He was furious and stormed out of the room to see what had happened.
I didn't hear anymore of it though, but dreaded that woman being on shift in the future. (I still think to this day I should write to the NUM and report it, fat lot of good it would do, but it may help me personally).
I was visited during the week by my OB who said that I'd been put on the theatre list for Friday, 7.1.06, I was first on the list, so if there were no emergencies, I'd be going in at 1pm. Scary and exciting all at once to know that I would be a Mum on Friday. I rang Ian to tell him, told Mum and Nan. Repeated my wishes for absolutely no visitors that day, it was to be our family time, no if's or but's.
What's in a name?
So it appears that everyone has a comment on potential baby names. Ugh. Perhaps it's better to keep completely quiet about the names we're considering until our little bundle arrives, surely it would be harder to say "I hate the name" or "that's awful" when the child has already been delivered and named? ALthough, thinking back, so many people told us they really disliked Isla as a name when she was born. Everyone is keen to offer up suggestions too, but always suiting their naming styles, not ours.
These are some girls names I *love* but will most probably never use :(
* Savannah (probably too American?? I've loved this name since pregnant with Isla, a lady I roomed with had a 2 yr old called Savannah) * Saskia * Matilda (too popular) *Ariadne *Adelaide *Olive *Sibylla *Sophia (too popular) *Francesca (sounds bad with surname) *Audrey *Hermoine (don't want any association with Harry Potter) *Claudia *Annika *Lola (Ian thinks it rhymes too much with Isla and it's my favourite name) *Evangeline (Evie) *Ashton (Ian doesn't think it's androgynous at all, thinks it's soley a boys name) *Maggie (I don't even know why but I love it) *Georgia (My half sister'd daughter has this name, although I have never met her)
Ian's list: *Alexandria *Hope *Harmony *something starting with K...I can't remember them now, will have to find his list, no doubt he's forgotten all of them!
It's all too hard. If this baby was a boy, he'd already be named (in fact, I'd had his name ready since 2006!) Madden William Cole. Sigh. I love, love, LOVE the name Madden. Too masculine for a girl though. Perhaps a middle name? Something Madden Kate F---. Hmm.
Names I loved when pregnant with Isla. *Ava (although was told by SIL I couldn't use it as she had dibbs on it) *Eloise *Paige *Ella *Eliza *Isobel *Olivia *Isla (of course) *Sophia *London. Ian and I still really like London, although I struggle with the idea of "place names". All the other names (except Isla) are way too popular now or I'm just over them.
I'm going to keep this list bumped any time that a "helpful" suggestion is made, here's what's been suggested to me so far:
Gillian, Amelia, Rose, Sophie (surprisingly, as it was my sister who suggested it only 6 weeks after telling me I couldn't have it because she has dibbs on it), Harriet, Lucinda, Isobel, Anna, Lucille, Makayla, Juliet...I'm sure there are more, I just can't think of them now!
These are some girls names I *love* but will most probably never use :(
* Savannah (probably too American?? I've loved this name since pregnant with Isla, a lady I roomed with had a 2 yr old called Savannah) * Saskia * Matilda (too popular) *Ariadne *Adelaide *Olive *Sibylla *Sophia (too popular) *Francesca (sounds bad with surname) *Audrey *Hermoine (don't want any association with Harry Potter) *Claudia *Annika *Lola (Ian thinks it rhymes too much with Isla and it's my favourite name) *Evangeline (Evie) *Ashton (Ian doesn't think it's androgynous at all, thinks it's soley a boys name) *Maggie (I don't even know why but I love it) *Georgia (My half sister'd daughter has this name, although I have never met her)
Ian's list: *Alexandria *Hope *Harmony *something starting with K...I can't remember them now, will have to find his list, no doubt he's forgotten all of them!
It's all too hard. If this baby was a boy, he'd already be named (in fact, I'd had his name ready since 2006!) Madden William Cole. Sigh. I love, love, LOVE the name Madden. Too masculine for a girl though. Perhaps a middle name? Something Madden Kate F---. Hmm.
Names I loved when pregnant with Isla. *Ava (although was told by SIL I couldn't use it as she had dibbs on it) *Eloise *Paige *Ella *Eliza *Isobel *Olivia *Isla (of course) *Sophia *London. Ian and I still really like London, although I struggle with the idea of "place names". All the other names (except Isla) are way too popular now or I'm just over them.
I'm going to keep this list bumped any time that a "helpful" suggestion is made, here's what's been suggested to me so far:
Gillian, Amelia, Rose, Sophie (surprisingly, as it was my sister who suggested it only 6 weeks after telling me I couldn't have it because she has dibbs on it), Harriet, Lucinda, Isobel, Anna, Lucille, Makayla, Juliet...I'm sure there are more, I just can't think of them now!
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
23 weeks.
Nothing much to report this week so far.
Lower back is HURTING!! Dr explained it's from all the hormones released in pregnancy making ligaments etc relax a bit. Told me to contact the antenatal clinic and book in to see one of their physiotherapists, although the wait list is quite long, so I may just have a hunt around for a private physio, in the meantime, heat packs and panadol.
I am officially on maternity leave until May of next year - see above-mentioned back pain and standing on my feet for hours on end is making it worse. Found a lovely GP who gave me a certificate to bring forward my leave from September to last Thursday. Funnily enough, he spent the last 12 months doing an internship at the hospital I'll be having the baby at, so has told me to tell them in the antenatal clinic that "Raj says hi!". Too funny.
We took advantage of me not working and slipped away to this place near Sussex Inlet over the weekend for Christmas in July. It was really nice, just us girls, Ian stayed at home and played World of Warcraft til his eyes bled. Weird to think that when Christmas does come around we'll have two little girls in the house! How exciting!
Have been a complete domestic goddess today, been grocery shopping, done 4 loads of washing, made up beds, kitchen spotless, meals for the week sorted, fridge cleaned out. All to do now is change the doona cover and pillowcases.
New camera charger arriving within the next 10 days (but who's counting) so I'll have some belly shots and maybe some pics of little Isla, who yesterday decided her new baby sister's name will be "rina" as in ballerina! She's too cute someitmes!.
Lower back is HURTING!! Dr explained it's from all the hormones released in pregnancy making ligaments etc relax a bit. Told me to contact the antenatal clinic and book in to see one of their physiotherapists, although the wait list is quite long, so I may just have a hunt around for a private physio, in the meantime, heat packs and panadol.
I am officially on maternity leave until May of next year - see above-mentioned back pain and standing on my feet for hours on end is making it worse. Found a lovely GP who gave me a certificate to bring forward my leave from September to last Thursday. Funnily enough, he spent the last 12 months doing an internship at the hospital I'll be having the baby at, so has told me to tell them in the antenatal clinic that "Raj says hi!". Too funny.
We took advantage of me not working and slipped away to this place near Sussex Inlet over the weekend for Christmas in July. It was really nice, just us girls, Ian stayed at home and played World of Warcraft til his eyes bled. Weird to think that when Christmas does come around we'll have two little girls in the house! How exciting!
Have been a complete domestic goddess today, been grocery shopping, done 4 loads of washing, made up beds, kitchen spotless, meals for the week sorted, fridge cleaned out. All to do now is change the doona cover and pillowcases.
New camera charger arriving within the next 10 days (but who's counting) so I'll have some belly shots and maybe some pics of little Isla, who yesterday decided her new baby sister's name will be "rina" as in ballerina! She's too cute someitmes!.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Reliving the past...Part I
Okay, here we go.
I'm going to write down what I remember about my Daughter's birth, which admittedly, isn't a lot. However, I think it will be good for me to be able to write it all out again now, and it may shed new light on things I'd overlooked in the past, or even help me with the questions to ask my midwives when I see them next.
Where to begin... The hardest part about documenting her birth, is that I was hospitalised 4 times (for a total of 49 days) from 22 weeks (although obviously, not continuously).
22 weeks (which is where I am now, eep!) I woke up one morning before hubby went to work. Felt something warm drip "down there". Didn't think too much of it though, it was only a tiny amount, so I stayed in bed for another 20ish minutes before it got the better of me and I went to the loo to check.
Sit on loo, notice two dark spots on my undies (they were black so I couldn't see what colour the spots were) only to wipe and be faced with blood. Bright red blood. I remembered I had to call the Birthing Unit straight away, and I also needed to call Ian who was starting a contract position that day. I don't remember who I called first.
Ian arrived home at the speed of light, and the trip to the hospital was made in record time. We went into the delivery room, I had to show the midwife my pad (I remember at the time being absolutely mortified by this proposition, but some how by the end of my pregnancy it became second nature - welcome to pregnancy & childbirth, leave your dignity at the door!). Midwife confirmed it was darkish in colour which indicated an older bleed, I'd have to stay in hospital overnight, which in turn, turned out to be 3 days.
Ordered to have no sex at all, and nothing to "stimulate the cervix". Great. No heavy lifting, no vaccuming etc etc.
Next bleed I was 28 weeks (I think, it's getting hard to remember) at a sporting event. I should never have left the house that day though, I had this hideous feeling all day that I was going to bleed or that I was already bleeding, and thus spent a massive amount of that day in the bathroom "just checking". This one was very scary indeed. A trip in an ambulance, whisked into the ED then the birthing unit, jeans covered in blood whipped off the minute the ambo drivers left the room. Lots of people buzzing around, drips, bloods taken, canula's inserted, first round of steroid injections given - OUCH! Bleeding stopped after around 12 hours, then transferred to the ward, but not before idiotic male midwife thought my waters had broken and then failed to find baby's heart beat, instead he found mine and scared the hell out of me by calling in other people, who reassured me it was my pulse rate that was being picked up on the CTG and within seconds, someone much more competant managed to find a very happy and content baby heart beat. The following day I was given an ultrasound. Placenta still very low, still completely covering the os. Baby has massive feet, and measures a week behind. Dates pushed back by 1 week, so 27 weeks. 3 days in hospital.
1.5 days after discharge and I'm back at the birthing unit at 1.30am with more bleeding. Not a great deal like last time, but bleeding none-the-less. Dr's are unhappy to see me, midwives are getting used to me by this point. 2 canula's inserted incase I need to deliver. Talk about sending me to St George or RPA should things turn pear-shaped. See my favourite midwife who see's my name on the patient board and asks to be assigned to me, bless her. Bleeding dwindles away to practically nothing, and due to the ward being full, I'm shown to the "Good Room" within the BU. It has a corner spa (although not for you!), double bed and tv - none of the other rooms have the luxury of a tv, which means you hear nothing but the moaning and screaming of labouring and birthing women, not the easiest environment to 'relax' in. Plus this room is hidden at the end of the corridor, and around a corner, far away from the chaos. 4 days in hospital, advised to go to another nearby(ish) hospital should I bleed again before 34 weeks because this hospital isn't equipped for a preterm delivery any earlier than 34wks. Great.
10 days from last admission, wake up to go to the loo (such is a pregnant woman's perogative) and, you guessed it, blood. Speed of light drive to next hospital. Get lost in carpark, can't find the enquiries desk, can't find the lifts, can't find the birthing unit. Finally find the bloody place after running the corridors and announce to the staff behind the desk "I'm 29 weeks and I have Placenta Praevia Grade IV and I'm bleeding". None of them blinks an eye. After about 2 or 3 minutes a midwife comes up to me and shows me to a birthing unit, highly unimpressed that I've disturbed her from whatever it was she was doing. Gives me a gown to put on, tells me to give her a urine sample, get changed and get on the bed, she'll be back later to check on me. Thankfully I wasn't bleeding to death at this stage otherwise I would have been quite pissed.
Dr comes to visit me, and tells me I shouldn't be there because I am not in the residential zone for that hospital. I show him my yellow card where the Registrar had written for me to report here should I bleed. Dr is cranky as all hell and starts world war III with other hospital for sending me there when I am not their "problem".
Eventually shown to a room on the maternity ward. A four bed room. 2 women labouring opposite me, one with a newborn next to me, and a bathroom down the corridor. Lovely. Dr comes to see me and asks how long I stay in my old hospital with each bout of bleeding. I tell her that their policy is 48hrs once the bleeding stops. She says I can go home after 24 hours, "this is excellent", I think.
24 hours comes and goes, in the mean time I've been moved to the opposite side of the maternity ward, to the antenatal wing, right next door to the feto-natal unit (where they do all kinds of weird things with unborn babies, like blood transfusions etc). Dr visits again, I have to stay another 24 hours. I am pissed off, but what can I do about it? I lay in bed and wait for the hours to pass before I go home.
The next day arrives and I'm greeted with the wonderful news that I will not be going home today, I will in fact be staying here until I reach 34 weeks or deliver the baby, whichever happens first. And, should I make it to 34 weeks, I have the choice of staying at this hospital or transferring back to my original hospital until the baby is born. Next time I go home, I'll have a newborn. I am only 30 weeks. Feeling really pissed off at this stage!.
Somewhere between here and 35.2wks I have another 7 bleeds. One of them I remember so vividly. It was a Saturday and I'd decided that I should have a Nana nap around midday. A male nurse comes to do my obs but see's that I'm asleep so leaves me to get some rest, what a doll. He comes back as I wake up and asks if he can take my blood pressure, sure no problem. I offer my arm to him but he insists I sit up with my feet dangling over the edge of the bed to get a more accurate reading. As I sit up I feel a warm gush and jump up out of bed declaring "Oh my God, I think I've pissed myself" (charming as ever!) and head off to the toilet, bp arm wrap thing dangling off my arm. Get to the bathroom door and notice legs are covered in blood, there's a trail of blood from my bed to where I'm standing and a big bloody patch on my sheets. Fark!
Male nurse panics, I get back into bed as he presses the alarm button. About a billion people rush into the room, and before I know it I'm strapped to the CTG machine while the male nurse preps me for surgery. He takes off all my nail polish and tapes down my rings ready for the big event. Quizzes me on what I've eaten lately (umm, a packet of twisties!) and I sign consent forms for an emergency c-section.
A doctor, who I think may have been Russian going by her accent, with an apalling bedside manner, enters the room and sees that I am having regular contractions which are going off the charts. She kindly offers me pain relief, "you would like some pethidine?" but I refuse, it's not hurting. With all the blood mopped up, and all the evidence thrown into the linen hamper, she declares that the bleed itself was not significant, that I don't need to go to surgery, stating the blood loss was only 50mLs and leaves. Male nurse shakes his head in disbelief, saying, "that was way more than 50mLs". Ian's Scooby Doo boxer shorts have seen better days.
That was the scariest of all my bleeds. Given I was due in February, and it was December when I was admitted, it was a foregone conclusion that I would be fortunate enough to spend both Christmas and New Years Eve in hospital. Not a fun time to be on complete bedrest I can assure you.
I'm going to write down what I remember about my Daughter's birth, which admittedly, isn't a lot. However, I think it will be good for me to be able to write it all out again now, and it may shed new light on things I'd overlooked in the past, or even help me with the questions to ask my midwives when I see them next.
Where to begin... The hardest part about documenting her birth, is that I was hospitalised 4 times (for a total of 49 days) from 22 weeks (although obviously, not continuously).
22 weeks (which is where I am now, eep!) I woke up one morning before hubby went to work. Felt something warm drip "down there". Didn't think too much of it though, it was only a tiny amount, so I stayed in bed for another 20ish minutes before it got the better of me and I went to the loo to check.
Sit on loo, notice two dark spots on my undies (they were black so I couldn't see what colour the spots were) only to wipe and be faced with blood. Bright red blood. I remembered I had to call the Birthing Unit straight away, and I also needed to call Ian who was starting a contract position that day. I don't remember who I called first.
Ian arrived home at the speed of light, and the trip to the hospital was made in record time. We went into the delivery room, I had to show the midwife my pad (I remember at the time being absolutely mortified by this proposition, but some how by the end of my pregnancy it became second nature - welcome to pregnancy & childbirth, leave your dignity at the door!). Midwife confirmed it was darkish in colour which indicated an older bleed, I'd have to stay in hospital overnight, which in turn, turned out to be 3 days.
Ordered to have no sex at all, and nothing to "stimulate the cervix". Great. No heavy lifting, no vaccuming etc etc.
Next bleed I was 28 weeks (I think, it's getting hard to remember) at a sporting event. I should never have left the house that day though, I had this hideous feeling all day that I was going to bleed or that I was already bleeding, and thus spent a massive amount of that day in the bathroom "just checking". This one was very scary indeed. A trip in an ambulance, whisked into the ED then the birthing unit, jeans covered in blood whipped off the minute the ambo drivers left the room. Lots of people buzzing around, drips, bloods taken, canula's inserted, first round of steroid injections given - OUCH! Bleeding stopped after around 12 hours, then transferred to the ward, but not before idiotic male midwife thought my waters had broken and then failed to find baby's heart beat, instead he found mine and scared the hell out of me by calling in other people, who reassured me it was my pulse rate that was being picked up on the CTG and within seconds, someone much more competant managed to find a very happy and content baby heart beat. The following day I was given an ultrasound. Placenta still very low, still completely covering the os. Baby has massive feet, and measures a week behind. Dates pushed back by 1 week, so 27 weeks. 3 days in hospital.
1.5 days after discharge and I'm back at the birthing unit at 1.30am with more bleeding. Not a great deal like last time, but bleeding none-the-less. Dr's are unhappy to see me, midwives are getting used to me by this point. 2 canula's inserted incase I need to deliver. Talk about sending me to St George or RPA should things turn pear-shaped. See my favourite midwife who see's my name on the patient board and asks to be assigned to me, bless her. Bleeding dwindles away to practically nothing, and due to the ward being full, I'm shown to the "Good Room" within the BU. It has a corner spa (although not for you!), double bed and tv - none of the other rooms have the luxury of a tv, which means you hear nothing but the moaning and screaming of labouring and birthing women, not the easiest environment to 'relax' in. Plus this room is hidden at the end of the corridor, and around a corner, far away from the chaos. 4 days in hospital, advised to go to another nearby(ish) hospital should I bleed again before 34 weeks because this hospital isn't equipped for a preterm delivery any earlier than 34wks. Great.
10 days from last admission, wake up to go to the loo (such is a pregnant woman's perogative) and, you guessed it, blood. Speed of light drive to next hospital. Get lost in carpark, can't find the enquiries desk, can't find the lifts, can't find the birthing unit. Finally find the bloody place after running the corridors and announce to the staff behind the desk "I'm 29 weeks and I have Placenta Praevia Grade IV and I'm bleeding". None of them blinks an eye. After about 2 or 3 minutes a midwife comes up to me and shows me to a birthing unit, highly unimpressed that I've disturbed her from whatever it was she was doing. Gives me a gown to put on, tells me to give her a urine sample, get changed and get on the bed, she'll be back later to check on me. Thankfully I wasn't bleeding to death at this stage otherwise I would have been quite pissed.
Dr comes to visit me, and tells me I shouldn't be there because I am not in the residential zone for that hospital. I show him my yellow card where the Registrar had written for me to report here should I bleed. Dr is cranky as all hell and starts world war III with other hospital for sending me there when I am not their "problem".
Eventually shown to a room on the maternity ward. A four bed room. 2 women labouring opposite me, one with a newborn next to me, and a bathroom down the corridor. Lovely. Dr comes to see me and asks how long I stay in my old hospital with each bout of bleeding. I tell her that their policy is 48hrs once the bleeding stops. She says I can go home after 24 hours, "this is excellent", I think.
24 hours comes and goes, in the mean time I've been moved to the opposite side of the maternity ward, to the antenatal wing, right next door to the feto-natal unit (where they do all kinds of weird things with unborn babies, like blood transfusions etc). Dr visits again, I have to stay another 24 hours. I am pissed off, but what can I do about it? I lay in bed and wait for the hours to pass before I go home.
The next day arrives and I'm greeted with the wonderful news that I will not be going home today, I will in fact be staying here until I reach 34 weeks or deliver the baby, whichever happens first. And, should I make it to 34 weeks, I have the choice of staying at this hospital or transferring back to my original hospital until the baby is born. Next time I go home, I'll have a newborn. I am only 30 weeks. Feeling really pissed off at this stage!.
Somewhere between here and 35.2wks I have another 7 bleeds. One of them I remember so vividly. It was a Saturday and I'd decided that I should have a Nana nap around midday. A male nurse comes to do my obs but see's that I'm asleep so leaves me to get some rest, what a doll. He comes back as I wake up and asks if he can take my blood pressure, sure no problem. I offer my arm to him but he insists I sit up with my feet dangling over the edge of the bed to get a more accurate reading. As I sit up I feel a warm gush and jump up out of bed declaring "Oh my God, I think I've pissed myself" (charming as ever!) and head off to the toilet, bp arm wrap thing dangling off my arm. Get to the bathroom door and notice legs are covered in blood, there's a trail of blood from my bed to where I'm standing and a big bloody patch on my sheets. Fark!
Male nurse panics, I get back into bed as he presses the alarm button. About a billion people rush into the room, and before I know it I'm strapped to the CTG machine while the male nurse preps me for surgery. He takes off all my nail polish and tapes down my rings ready for the big event. Quizzes me on what I've eaten lately (umm, a packet of twisties!) and I sign consent forms for an emergency c-section.
A doctor, who I think may have been Russian going by her accent, with an apalling bedside manner, enters the room and sees that I am having regular contractions which are going off the charts. She kindly offers me pain relief, "you would like some pethidine?" but I refuse, it's not hurting. With all the blood mopped up, and all the evidence thrown into the linen hamper, she declares that the bleed itself was not significant, that I don't need to go to surgery, stating the blood loss was only 50mLs and leaves. Male nurse shakes his head in disbelief, saying, "that was way more than 50mLs". Ian's Scooby Doo boxer shorts have seen better days.
That was the scariest of all my bleeds. Given I was due in February, and it was December when I was admitted, it was a foregone conclusion that I would be fortunate enough to spend both Christmas and New Years Eve in hospital. Not a fun time to be on complete bedrest I can assure you.
I spoke too soon!
Turns out Ian could feel the baby kick! Last night in fact, only a few short hours after posting here. He was a little freaked out by it though, he didn't feel our daughter kick until the day she was born, so the thought of a really little person inside of me was a bit too freaky for him to handle.
Sore tummy from constant coughing, hips still sore, lower back hurting now too.
3 weeks until next appointment at the hospital. Looking forward to it actually, I'll be 25 weeks so no doubt I'll be sent to the clinic for that hideous Glucose test (although not looking forward to that part). The first one I had with my daughter came back high at 8.5 (I think) so I had to re-do it, lucky me. It turned out to be okay though, fingers crossed the same applies this time 'round.
Have been thinking perhaps I should write down what I remember from my daughters birth, and how I felt. Maybe it will help me move on more from the not-so-wonderful experience?
Sore tummy from constant coughing, hips still sore, lower back hurting now too.
3 weeks until next appointment at the hospital. Looking forward to it actually, I'll be 25 weeks so no doubt I'll be sent to the clinic for that hideous Glucose test (although not looking forward to that part). The first one I had with my daughter came back high at 8.5 (I think) so I had to re-do it, lucky me. It turned out to be okay though, fingers crossed the same applies this time 'round.
Have been thinking perhaps I should write down what I remember from my daughters birth, and how I felt. Maybe it will help me move on more from the not-so-wonderful experience?
Monday, July 21, 2008
22 weeks.
And I have the flu. I feel awful. Woe is me.
Nothing much to report. Baby girl is kicking very strongly now, Ian still can't feel it though, but I'm sure it won't be long until he can.
Ian's bday today. Happy 27th Hubby.
Picked up daughter from Mother's place today and received another name suggestion "Harriet". Bah!
Nothing much to report. Baby girl is kicking very strongly now, Ian still can't feel it though, but I'm sure it won't be long until he can.
Ian's bday today. Happy 27th Hubby.
Picked up daughter from Mother's place today and received another name suggestion "Harriet". Bah!
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