The Birth Story of Abbie Kathleen Monahan

First of all, allow me to share some beautiful pictures and some stats about my precious daughter. Then I'll get to the "good" stuff (WARNING: I will not get too detailed or gory, but I apologize in advance if I make you feel uncomfortable!)






Abbie Kathleen Monahan was born ON her due date, August 20, 2009 at 8:19PM. She weighed in at 7lb 11oz, is 18.5 in long, and had a NORMAL sized head (I managed to slip by the curse of the "Monahan" head!). From the time they broke my water until the moment she was born was about 7 hours.

On the 19th, I was getting very frustrated with still being pregnant despite the fact we hadn't hit the due date yet. I started having contractions at around 35 weeks, so EVERYONE, including myself assumed she was going to come early. Therefore, at any point before the due date that I started have a twinge of what I thought might be impending labor, I began to get very excited. I would start timing contractions to see if there were any regularity to them, and began really nesting (ie: cleaning incessantly) in my house so I wouldn't have to come back to a huge mess after being in the hospital. Of course, nothing would ever result of these early labor contractions, they would fizzle and I would become a bit disheartened. It became very tempting to try all of those "natural" induction methods you read about and your mommy friends tell you about to get the baby out.

So, again, on the 19th, after having been up 3 nights in a row timing some fairly uncomfortable and somewhat regular contractions, only to wake up in the morning pain free with NO contractions, I was at my wits end. I walked my neighborhood a few times, and we went grocery shopping later that day, where I power walked the aisles. Again, the evening of the 19th, I began contracting, but I was trying very hard not to get my hopes up, as I knew these would likely fizzle out too. But, I hopped on Facebook and chatted with a friend into the wee hours of the morning as we sort of timed them together. Around 4 AM they were anywhere between 4-7 min apart, but were progressively getting stronger and longer. So, I decided I would hop in the bath tub and soak for a little bit...warm water will make them go away if they were not the real deal. I hopped into the tub and had 3 contractions, one on top of the other. So, I called my OB's nurseline and they instructed me to head to Labor and Delivery.

Waking Brett up proved to be more difficult than I had envisioned. He looked at me like I was crazy, like I maybe was believing the contractions into existence, just because he knew how badly I wanted to just have this baby. He slowly got up and got dressed, as I rushed around the house packing all of the last minute things you can't pack until it's time, making contingency plans for Bryce and ensuring my mom (who is staying with us), would have a way down to the hospital come morning. We took off and got to the hospital at around 5:30AM.

They took me into their little triage department first. I don't know if that's standard protocol, of if they did that just because I was able to walk in there on my own volition (I was not going to let the niceties such as a wheelchair ride into the hospital take away from the intensity of these contractions!). They hooked me up to the monitors, and confirmed that my contractions were now about 4-6 min apart, but my blood pressure was through the ROOF! They took it several times and though it came down slightly, it was still elevated. They figured I was likely in that phase between pre-labor and active labor, and would have sent me home had it not been for my high BP (I've never been so grateful for a high reading). I was admitted!

They set me up in a room, which apparently was the last and largest room on the floor (it was like staying in a SUITE!), and then my contractions began to fizzle. So, up walking we went. Contractions came back, would get more intense and regular, and then would fizzle out again. So, again, we would walk. We did this until about 12:30 in the afternoon, with no progress in the dilation/effacement arena. At which point, my OB made the call to have my water broken in order to speed the process along. And boy howdy, did it ever. My water was broken at 1PM.

The first hour of contractions were tolerable. Definitely needed to focus and breathe through them, but they were tolerable. Then out of nowhere, I got hit by a freight train. My mental mantra when they hit was "body like jello, body like jello, body like jello" until I was taken by surprise by the crazy wave of pain and inner wringing out that my body went through. Mom and Brett were quietly watching a movie as I was breathing through them when I began to moan, and breathe heavy. They looked at me, wondering what I needed of them (I had apparently been doing fine on my own and was trying to be Miss Independent prior to this). I grabbed Brett's hand and tried breaking his fingers off. When that didn't work, I said very loudly and insistently "EPIDURAL TIME, EPIDURAL TIME, EPIDURAL TIME" over and over again until the contraction finally eased up on me. Next thing I knew the anesthesiologist was there giving me sweet relief. This epidural's entrance was more painful than I remember it being the first time around, but as they say, it was well worth it to be able to enjoy my labor after that point. I made it a bit longer without pain meds than I did with Bryce, so I patted myself on the back and looked forward.

I was able to labor sitting up, and my epidural was perfect. I could feel pressure, but no pain, and I could still move my legs around. At some point, they had my lay on my left side, in order to help speed up the dilation process, I was almost 10 cm and they were looking for a little quicker way to get me there. Well, that did it. All of a sudden, I had this fear that my epidural had worn off, because I could feel a ton of pressure and though it didn't hurt per se, it was uncomfortable. I had Brett go get the nurse, and sure enough what I was feeling was the urge to push because I was at a 10!!!

The nurses then switched shifts and I had to wait for the new nurses to set up shop and get the resident doctor and my OB in the room. They had me do a couple "practice" pushes, just so I would know what it was I needed to do, and then they immediately stopped me, because she was COMING! The resident donned her mask and gown quickly and the OB finally came running into the room. 3 more good pushes and Abbie Kathleen made her grand entrance into the world. She was wriggling and crying loudly, very unimpressed with the bright lights and cold, but she was perfectly healthy and beautiful. :)

She eats like a champ, and despite a bit of jaundice that required some in-home bililights and a nurse stopping by daily for the first couple of days, all is well. Abbie is a very good-natured baby, actually sleeps at night in between feedings and likes to be cuddled up with anyone who will hold her (rest assured, she's rarely put down between all of us)!

1 week to go...

I am officially 39 weeks today...one week away from my due date. Did you know that only about 5% of births actually occur on the due date? That's why they give you a 2 week window around your due date and call that "full term." For first time moms, they say about 40% of births happen after the due date. I can't seen to find statistics for second-time moms...

My body is making some progress toward going into labor...it's comforting to know this process already so that each symptom isn't freaking me out, however that's a double-sided coin. I also get very frustrated that the contractions I feel aren't leading anywhere. I also don't have an "end point." (beyond the fact that I won't be pregnant forever and she is likely to come within the next two week). You see, with Bryce, I was induced, so once it was decided that I need to be induced, there was an immediate light at the end of the tunnel...within 24 hours, I was holding him in my arms. Not so this time around. I over analyze EVERYTHING, so it probably has to come as no shock to any of you who know me that every agonizing day I'm pretty much hyper focused on the goings-on within my body.

Abbie is still quite the mover, even though she's officially run out of room. She has dropped, her head is engaged, and my pre-labor (false labor, I was told) has progressed me enough that, it LITERALLY could happen at anytime. I'm 1 cm away from being in "active" labor.

And even though I thought I was against it, all of these "natural" inducers are starting to look VERY appealing. :)

The Insanity Must Stop!

So, for fun this time around, I joined up with the August 2009 Birth Club chat boards through babycenter.com. It was a great way to meet up with other moms who were due around my due date, trade stories, share concerns and help each other through these 9, arduous, long months.

However, as we all creep toward our due dates, the postings have gotten OUT.OF.CONTROL. I've noticed 2 distinct types of posts lately:

1) My baby is here! Here is the story!
- for the record, I have yet to read one story to date where a c section or induction was not involved. I was induced the first time around with Bryce. I'm starting to wonder if our bodies have forgotten how to birth babies and we now need medical interventions to get these children out of us!

2) I'm DONE being pregnant, please tell me every symptom I have means I'm in labor, or what old wives tale/witch doctor potion will induce labor on its own.
- though I've tried my best, I became victim to the "it's a full moon tonight and the gravitational pull will make your water break" post. I was so hoping. Alas, here I am still pregnant. If I see one more post about someone taking castor oil 3 WEEKS before they're due and then wondering why all they did was sit on and/or hug the toilet all night long, I might just throw up myself.

Do not get me wrong, I have seriously pondered trying some of these "natural" induction methods, and did go for a walk with my mom around the store yesterday, hoping gravity would just help me out a bit. It's very tempting to help move things along if you can, especially when you're this uncomfortable and the weather has been crazy hot. HOWEVER, there's something magical, dare I say romantic, about letting nature take its course. Waking up in the middle of the night to twinges of pain, waking up your husband and making him time them...heading to the hospital to waddle around the halls in an oh-so-flattering gown (that doesn't close all the way in the back)....ripping his fingernails out one by one once the pain gets so intense that you want to marry the anesthesiologist...and then the grande finale...enter stage left, baby Abbie.

So, as much as I'd like to walk 10 miles, have uber-alone time with my hubby, eat spicy food with fresh pineapple on the side, bounce on a trampoline, etc, I know she will come when she is ready.

And if she's late, I can always ask the OB for an induction. :) Here's hoping my body remembers how to push a baby out of it!

The Downside of a Multi-Doctor Clinic

I love the upsides to multi-doctor clinics. For instance, Bryce sees a primary pediatrician in a clinic full of 'em. So, when there's an emergency and his doc is off, Bryce can still be seen by SOMEONE there and get the care he needs, without me having to swoop him off to the ER or Urgent Care all the time.

My OB's office is similar. I have a primary OB, but in times of emergency, I can see any one of 5 (they partner two offices together in order to have that many on staff). This is nice because, I could really have this baby at any time, and it is comforting to me to know, that, if my OB is not on call, someone from her office will deliver Abbie and will know my chart.

Or so I thought.

Because of my experiences with being pregnant with Bryce and having pregnancy-induced hypertension, I'm ACUTELY aware of signs of high blood pressure and pre-eclampsia (to those of you who don't know, pre-eclampsia is a serious pregnancy complication that can lead to a whole host of problems...usually bedrest and sometimes early induction/C section follow). Last week, I gained 5 lbs in 4 days. That is NOT normal. Normal at this stage is about 1-2 lbs/week. I can assure you that I was not sucking down Tagalong Blizzards and Big Macs (though they are quite tasty). I was also swelling a lot, and Monday morning my eyes were swollen and I was having blurry vision. The weight gain and these symptoms are all signals that pre-eclampsia may be on the horizon.

My OB is on vacation. She will be back on the 4th. So, Monday, I call my OB's office, advise them of my symtpoms and as what I should do. Well, I should come in of course, only the OTHER OB in the office is out too, so I'll need to go to the downtown clinic to see Dr. P. (using abbreviations only to be kind...I'd dime these folks out in a second if I thought anything they did in the following paragraphs was gratuitous and intentional). So, I see Dr. P. Luckily, my BP is normal (GREAT sign), but they want to run some blood labs, so I oblige the vampires.

I receive a call this morning from Dr. P's office. There were some abdormal readings, so they want me to take some more blood tests. This time I ask if I can do them at the clinic near my home and ask what it's all about. THEY DON'T WANT TO TELL ME. I finally prod, and the nurse mentions something about my liver. Fan.tas.tic.

So, I rush into the lab to give the vampires a second helping of my O negative, and then await my 3PM appointment with my OB's partner, Dr. W. Untreated anxiety made today a living hell for me. All sorts of terrible scenarios floated through my head, and it was everything I could do to get through my daily alotment of work.

I get to the appointment, and Dr. W's nurse tells me that he's still in surgery and I'll be seeing the nurse practitioner. Uh, what? I have nothing against nurses, and I know that 9 times out of 10 they've got it figured out before the docs, but THIS is serious...THIS is my liver. THIS could mean inductions or a c-section if it's serious enough...can a nurse make that call?

I wait for about 20 min in the waiting room, and then another 20 min in the procedure room. All of a sudden, the nurse comes in, moves me to a different room and tells me Dr. W is there and can see me. Phew, that's a relief.

I wait another 10 minutes, before Dr W comes waltzing through the door. And he looks at me funny. I would have stood to shake his hand, but I'm 37 weeks pregnant thank you very much, and I don't feel like getting up. So, I wait for him to sit in front of the computer, and check my chart, and ask me why I'm there. EXCUSE ME? I realize you just came from surgery, but the least you could have done was read the notes the nurse wrote on the back of my chart. So, I calmly explain the symptoms I'd had which led to my Monday appointment with Dr. P. He looks at the blood drawn on Monday, and says, "well, it all looks very normal to me..." WHAT? Are you kidding me? "Well," I reply, "they called me this morning and requested that I take more tests, did you get those results?" I haven't seen a blanker stare since I asked Bryce if it was he or the cat the squeezed all of the toothpaste down the sink. "Oh!" He says, as he quickly pulls up my chart on the computer...."yep, those labs look good, too."

Well, then WHAT IN THE HELL did I need to give blood for again? Obviously, if Dr. P thought they were normal, I wouldn't have given more this morning and I wouldn't be here NOW! So, he says, "well, your platelets are a little low...normal is 150 to (some number I can't remember) and you are at 148. That is where you were at on Monday and that's where you're at today."

"So, what does that mean?"

"Well, nothing really. You're just a TINY bit low. It's really nothing to worry about. I'd just keep doing what your doing and see Dr. G (my normal OB) next Wednesday." He listed for Abbie's heartbeat, measured my stomach and then left the room.

I was SO PISSED. Not pissed that Abbie and I are healthy, mind you. I'm very grateful for that.

Pissed that I spent my ENTIRE day, FREAKING out. I had called my mom, and she was seconds from hopping a plane early. Brett was in a PANIC, coming up with contingency plans for his workload should he need to leave early.

So, I called them both, told them we were A-OK, and I was a victim of the left hand not knowing what the right hand was doing.

Funny thing is, I betcha I'll get a call from Dr. P's office, wanting to go over my results, and maybe even ordering MORE labs, because according to nonchalant Dr. W, the results from today were the same as Monday.

We'll see how they decide to play this one.

Handwritten Letters

I've determined that a handwritten letter seems to hold so much more weight than a typed one. I'm not sure why, but it's true. When I really need to get my feelings out or a point across to Brett, I write him a letter. I usually write these before he comes to bed and leave them in the bathroom, and then he reads them after I'm asleep. I write them not to point fingers, but mostly because we both tend to get defensive when we're both trying to get two points across, and I've learned over the years that I can write a letter, take my time and make sure I'm heard without pointing fingers or placing blame...then he can read it, mull it over, and we usually come back the next evening and chat about the concerns on both sides of the table.

This never happens when I type a letter. It probably comes across more formal...it's quicker to type than it is to write. Subconsciously, I guess when you hand write something, it tells the reader that you took the time to write it, to think about what you were going to write, that now your wrist hurts. But, all of the feeling, the emotion, the point you're trying to make, it's all right there. When you type, sure you can edit yourself, delete and replace, but you also run the risk of going too fast, of NOT using the same filters you would have had you slowed down and just wrote it out.

So, long story short, I hand wrote a letter last night. It was read, mulled over, and he was home by 6:45. We had dinner as a family, he played with Bryce and watched some cartoons. We watched the Mariner's game together. And now we're heading to bed. Good night all.

Beyond

I don't know what else to say.

I'm pregnant. I'm hot. I'm tired. I'm uncomfortable. I'm swelled up and bloated.

Today, I've been put on partial bed rest. Today, you'd think he would have tried to come home early, so I could begin to follow doctor's orders.

But, today is like any other day. There are cars to fix, and the boss is out of town, so even more responsibility. So, he stayed. I guess I shouldn't be so surprised.

Yeah, he comes home. I'm grateful for that. But when he does, at 8 or 9 at night, which is becoming the new norm, Bryce suffers. He wants to see him. He stays up past his bedtime to see him. And then he yells when Bryce throws a fit. He's tired, he needs structure, he needs his bedtime back. But he needs Daddy time too.

He gets home. He tags me out, I go lay down. He goes downstairs, and has his well-deserved beer and kicks his feet up. And then I don't see or talk to him until 6AM the next morning, when he says goodbye.

And the cycle continues.

Kitchen remodel. Sick kid. Pregnant wife. Sweltering heat. Doesn't matter.

Just wish I could push the remainder of my life back a couple hours to accommodate.

There's So Much To Be Thankful For

I love my auntie. She has a way with words. :)

Sometimes, I get so wrapped up in my own day, my own head, that I forget how truly blessed I am. First of all, I'm VERY blessed by a family who knows when it's time to call me to the carpet.

My auntie has been reading this blog for some time. I didn't realize she had, because she's not on my "followers" list. She sent me an email yesterday and let me know that she wanted to make a comment about my blog. Given my current hormonal condition, this could have EASILY gone sideways, but because she knows and loves me, and because I believe God was on my end keeping the hormones at bay, the message came through loud and clear. The message was this:

I am SO lucky to have the husband I do. I have griped, complained, threw fits, made ultimatums, and behaved so horribly rotten toward him at some points that I'm lucky he's stuck by me. The man works long hours. He's tired when he gets home. He deserves to sit and have a beer...even if the bottle cap is left on the counter...he's human.

The important thing is, HE COMES HOME. He SPENDS TIME with us. He takes Bryce golfing. He does what he can with the time he has. And it's all geared toward us. He's trying to make my dreams come true. He has given me 2 healthy kids, a healthy AND NORMAL teenage bonus-daughter, a beautiful home, and is now working his rear-end off to try and make it so I can stay home and raise our babies full-time. All things I've always wanted and have dreamed of since I was a little girl. How lucky am I?

So, he makes a mess. So, he wants to play softball. So what? In the grand scheme of things, what does it really matter? Left to my own devices, there's no way I could accomplish all of the things mentioned above all by myself. I'M GLAD I don't have to, and I don't envy single parents who have to work full-time and try and give their kids the lives they deserve. It's hard as a working, married parent.

He's funny, he's loving, and even though he can be sarcastic and downright mean sometimes, he'd walk through fire for any one of us.

So, my house isn't spotless. So, I don't have a back splash. So what? The important thing is, I have the love and full support of a wonderful man. They don't come around all that often anymore.

The email she wrote me was a hard pill to swallow. I like to be right. And I like to be right 100% of the time. But this time, I couldn't help but admit that I've been less than flattering to my husband in this blog for some time. And I'm truly sorry for that. He certainly deserves better than that, especially from his wife.

So, last night, I made him a "fancy" dinner (the fanciest I could make with what we had on hand). I poured him a beer, even though I can't have one with him, and dinner was hot and on the table when he got home. I told him it was a thank you dinner and he asked "for what?" For what. :) For putting up with me, of course! I then proceeded to do the dishes, even though he insisted he would do them, and we then went outside with our little boy and laughed and played on the swing set until bed time.

It was, quite possibly and despite my current uncomfortable condition, THE BEST evening I've had with my family for a LONG time.

So, thank you Auntie Sharon. I love you! :)