Last Monday at this time, I was in the hospital with contractions, debating how soon I would need an epidural. One week later, I'm sitting here with Baby 3 - now officially Baby Z - asleep in the swing. The surreal part is that Baby Z's birth wound up being the most dramatic yet. After a textbook 41 weeks of pregnancy, right down to even being Group B Strep negative, my body even started having contractions on its own Sunday night - no Pitocin required!
And then suddenly, Monday afternoon, everything took a bad turn. My blood pressure plummeted - the husband says it's a common problem with anesthesia, but it's never happened with my prior two epidurals - which several people ran in and out trying to correct. It stabilized for a bit, and then, when it came time to push, it started to go wonky again, AND Baby Z's heart rate dropped. And stayed down. So of course I am freaking out - and trying not to freak out, because surely that won't help the baby - and nurses and doctors keep appearing and reminding me to breathe and moving things around, and then they rush us down the halls to the OR so they can prep for a C-section. I'm trying to remember to breathe and praying I don't wind up delivering a dead baby. It's not a worry that's crossed my mind much this pregnancy, but now it's real and staring me in the face.
Thankfully, for whatever reason, Baby Z stabilized. He still couldn't come out, though; apparently he was in an awkward position and got stuck on my bladder, sunny side up. So they did wind up doing a C-section, and pulled out a very alive and pretty healthy Baby Z.
It's taken us a solid week to get settled at home. Last Monday at this time, I was thinking I'd deliver a healthy baby by 2, have some visitors in the evening, get home Wednesday, and be ready to take care of three kids by Monday. One week later, and nothing's gone "according to plan;" yet, I'm still a little in awe that we're both here - Z and I. There's a very good chance we might not have made it to see the sun rise this week without those doctors and nurses. And for that, I'll forever be grateful.
Monday, May 4, 2015
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