mama bear

Generally I want this blog to be light and funny and sometimes informative, however I wanted to write about a freak incident that happened to our family this week and how it has impacted me.

Our condo is two stories, with the master bedroom upstairs and the nursery and guest room downstairs. Ever since I brought the baby home, I have made the downstairs guest room  our room for now just because it's easier to grab stuff from the nursery without having to go downstairs. I am also using a cosleeper bassinet in the bedroom, just because this babe is too teeny for me to imagine her sleeping alone in her crib just yet.... maybe when she's 14....or 15 years old.

As most of you know, the husband travels every week Monday and comes home sometime Thursday afternoon or evening. Our condo is next to another three story large condo building that has a walkway in between our two buildings. This winter the husband and I have noticed their drain pipe building up with ice. I'm talking three stories tall and thicker than a human scull, not so much an icicle, more like an ice monster. Since we have a duplex down condo, the downstairs bedroom windows are on ground level. S mentioned he was worried about this huge piece of ice crashing into the guest bedroom window, in which I thought he was crazy, of course it would melt downward and not touch our condo!

Thursday morning rolls around. It was about 4am when I noticed it was raining out. In my groggy sleep mind I thought that maybe I should move rooms just in case S was right about the ice. Nah, that's crazy.

7:15am the babe starts to rustle about but I was still too tired and not in the mood to nurse her just yet. I grabbed her in her swaddle blanket and placed her next to me in bed to see if she would go back to sleep...this particular day, I could not be more thankful she was insistent on nursing. I grabbed the "brestfriend" a nursing pillow that straps around your body, and sat up in bed, placing her on the pillow in front of my body. It's important to know that our bed is against the wall with the window. Moments later I heard a noise that I can only describe as screeching metal like a train that got closer and closer. At that moment I knew what was about to happen.

It took mere seconds for all the ice to peel away three stories of the condo building and crash through the window above where we were in bed. Instinctively, I braced myself and covered the baby. I don't remember thinking to do it, it just happened. It all happened so fast.

The glass shattered all over us. A life altering noise that I'll never forget. I heard blood curdling screams for help, and then realized that was coming from me. I screamed for someone to help us over and over. I didn't know I was capable of screaming like that. I looked down and saw the baby in my arms with blood in/around her right eye. She wasn't crying or moving. She was still and just looking up at me. It was the most horrific sight. I quickly pulled it together, crawling out of the bed covered in glass, walking across the glass covered floor to find my phone which was knocked across the room. I released the nursing pillow, letting out shards of glass that had collected in the back of pillow.

Finally I heard my neighbors voice come through the window. I had her call 9-1-1. The baby still wasn't crying at this point, but it was only seconds or maybe a few minutes from the time all the glass had fallen to me springing out of the bed. I peeled her bloodied swaddle blanket from her looking for other injuries and she finally began to scream. I thought the glass was in her eye and I just kept telling myself that it would be alright if she lost her eyesight, at least she was alive. I had to tell myself that.

The paramedics came, pulled glass shards out of my back and shoulders and we were off to the hospital. I went to the decontamination shower in the ED to remove all the small glass pieces out of my body, but all I could think about was my baby. Was she going to loose her eye? Would she be okay? Would they find other injuries?

I count my lucky stars and know someone had to be looking out for us that day. This was beyond just luck. Once they rinsed her face and did an eye exam, they told me the cut was just below her eye, starting from just below the tear duct to her nose, somehow missing her eye completely. That was it. As for me, little pieces of glass that will eventually make their way out.

Looking back at the room and playing it over and over in my head I don't know how we walked away with the minor injuries we did. I don't know how it wasn't worse. I don't know how we, or at least I am alive. Even the pieces of ice that crashed through the window somehow missed my head and spine. I am so thankful I was nursing the baby, a natural shield from (almost) all the pieces of glass.

I knew that when you have a baby, you love your child like you've never loved anyone else. And after delivery, naturally I loved her. I even loved her once I knew I was pregnant. Thursday changed everything. This made me realize I'd lay down and die a thousand times to save my child. To prevent her from feeling pain. To prevent her from bleeding. Motherhood will make you do crazy things. I didn't even noticed when I walked barefoot across glass. I'd walk across fire to save her.

I'm not sure I fully understood what mother's were capable of until Thursday. I now understand why even at 30 years old, when I wake my mom up at night, she springs out of bed like a crazy lady. I get it now. You are always somewhat sleeping with one eye open, always in protective mode.

Always the mama bear.

The bed where we were laying. This is after the ice melted.

my birth plan not only went out the window, it was shredded and stomped on as well. [part 3]

***This is the story about my chunky monkey Avielle's birth on January 10th (3 days past due date). I leave no details to the imagination and have included some pictures. If you don't want to read all about birth, I suggest you go look on Buzzfeed for adorable puppies instead. ***

Friday January 10th-  When I saw my midwife sulk into the room with an OBGYN, I knew we were headed down a bad path. The OBGYN introduced herself and said that because I was failure to progress she would need to break my bag of waters. I couldn't believe that only 30 minutes after so many interventions, this doctor felt she couldn't wait any longer to break my bag of waters. I told her I wanted time to think about it, in which she said I didn't have time. Then I said I at least wanted my husband to be there. She said breaking my bag of waters wasn't anything special that he needed to be there for. This was the point I knew I was going to have to fight for what I wanted. I called S and had him come back.

In the room was my doula, the nurse, the midwife, my husband and this douche OBGYN. Tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Excited OBGYN went from wanting to break my bag of waters to mentioning c-section. It's all quite a blur to me because I was so angry with how things were going. I didn't want any interventions and had already agreed to so many and yet she wouldn't give my body time to adjust to the pitocin or epidural. I told her I wasn't saying no to her requests, only wanted some time to think about it, digest it and to give my body some time to do what it can do naturally. She said I was at an all time high risk for hemorrhaging. My husband asked how my risk would increase if we waited about an hour or two, she responded A LOT. That's a fantastic informed answer. I was shaking so uncontrollably at this point, I asked her to leave the room and give me time. After she left, the midwife apologized saying she didn't agree with her but that she was her attending physician. It was obvious my midwife was in a very difficult awkward spot.

In the meantime, I felt warm fluid trickle down me. My bag of waters had broken on it's own! I was so excited to tell the OBGYN to shove it, but then my midwife checked me and realized only part of my bag had broken. The OBGYN was adamant that the rest of the bag needed to be broken and she also wanted to insert an internal monitor so they could better monitor contractions and adjust the pitocin more accurately. For me it felt like one medical intervention after another being thrown at me. At one point the OBGYN said I didn't have options, she obviously didn't know who I was or what I was ready to fight for. I felt defeated at this point and frustrated that people couldn't just let me be, however I also wanted the ordeal over, so agreed to breaking the rest of my bag of waters and inserting an internal monitor. The internal monitor is a plastic device that rests next to the babies head that can monitor the strength of the contractions, so although "invasive" wasn't harming or at risk of harming my babe. Finally people left me alone.

About an hour passed when I started feeling contractions again and also the urge to push. I didn't want to say anything for fear of being told I wasn't progressing appropriately or that another intervention would be needed. I really didn't want anyone coming into my room anymore. I waited a bit but my doula noticed I was once again breathing through contractions. The midwife checked me and finally. FINALLY. I was complete! Fully dilated and effaced and it was time to push.

I must have a high tolerance to pain medication because I was still able to move around with the epidural, which was nice to be able to get in different positions on the bed. I pushed about 2.5-3 hours. The ring of fire is NO JOKE. It's a burning feeling you get when the baby is crowning. It's a crazy feeling. Even with the epidural, I felt her come through the birth canal and out into the world. The most exciting part was when they had S gown up and get ready to assist in delivering his baby girl. Everything happened so fast in the end, I couldn't believe my eyes when she was placed on my chest.

On Friday, January 10th at 10:58pm, we finally welcomed our baby girl Avielle Mariya to the world. She's a chunker 9 pounds 11 ounces and I couldn't be prouder that I was able to deliver her vaginally. I worked hard to bring her here. I look back at my story and realize it's quite a unique one, and although I didn't get the natural birth I had hoped for, I wouldn't change any of my decisions that I made along the way. I fought as long as I could for an unmedicated birth, but my body had other plans. 

**I found out recently that this case was being brought to the attention of other medical staff and that the OBGYN was written up for her poor behavior. It was quite the ordeal and I am so thankful for the nursing staff that helped me through and supported my decision to fight back against the physician who wanted to push the limits for no reason.

my birth plan not only went out the window, it was shredded and stomped on as well. [part 2]

***This is the story about my chunky monkey Avielle's birth on January 10th (3 days past due date). I leave no details to the imagination and have included some pictures. If you don't want to read all about birth, I suggest you go look on Buzzfeed for adorable puppies instead. ***

Thursday January 9th- Thursday is where everything took a turn, not necessarily for the worst, but it's where I got desperate. Wednesday I got no sleep, ended up in the bath tub for about 5 hours because it was the most comfortable I could be. All I could do was moan loudly during each contraction, still coming every 7 minutes with no break and no decrease in time in between.

Thursday we closed the curtains in the basement and put on movies and TV, pausing it every 7 minutes while I had contractions. I was loosing the ability to function at this point. No sleep since Monday evening and no break from 7 minute contractions in about 3 days. (I look back at this and realize how crazy this was). I tried sitting on the birth ball but that was painful, S tried taking a sheet and lifting my hips; sending me into painful contractions leaving me crying in the fetal position on the floor. Nothing seemed to work to help with the pain or help in flipping the baby. At this point, our doula got called into another birth. Seriously? We were now paired with a back up doula, but I had hopes that by the time I was in transition, my original doula would be free again.

Pure exhaustion hit and S was concerned. We decided Thursday afternoon to go for the Ambien. I was absolutely desperate at this point. I remember begging for someone to help me, to do something. I couldn't take it anymore, it had gone on too long. I took the Ambien and S got settled in for a nap, it was nap time in our house, except.... Ambien. didn't. do. anything. I was able to "rest" in between contractions, but that's about it. We were starting to grow really concerned with the fact I had not gotten sleep, which was making the pain of the contractions almost unbearable, however I was still hoping for a natural birth at this point. That's when we decided going to the hospital for Morphine sleep was the best idea, and almost last option for sleep at this point. The back up doula met us at the hospital, where I was admitted for observation and sleep only, then the plan was to go home well rested and flip the baby and fly into labor.

I was hooked up to an IV, one intervention I was hoping to avoid, but they needed it when giving Morphine. The doula and S were all comfortable in pull-out beds ready for some sleep, but then the time came and went and I didn't sleep, not even a little. The morphine literally had no effect on me. How is that possible!? We waited and waited for it to take effect and nothing. Who takes morphine with no effect?

An attending physician heard about my case and suggested a temporary bolus (not continuous) of an epidural. Up to this point, I was very much against getting an epidural for various reasons, but again desperate times call for desperate measures, so I agreed to the epidural.

The plan was again to do a bolus through the epidural and let my body rest, then go home. The anesthesiologist came in and prepped me. What happened next was unexpected. The severe debilitating pain I felt radiating down one side of my body made me hysterical, I screamed and cried and begged for him to stop. He didn't stop, nor did he explain what was happening. S said it was one of the worst experiences to watch, no one was able to do anything but wait until it was over. He left and I lay in bed shaken up, just to realize that the epidural only took to ONE side of my body. I could still feel EVERY contraction. Oh my god, this couldn't be happening. At this point, I wished for sedation and a c-section (if you know me, you know how out of character this is for me). I felt tortured and out of energy.

At this point we had been at the hospital about 12 hours, still with no rest or pain relief. The doula, S, and I decided it would be best to go back home and with the help of the doula flip the baby. I had a protein shake and got a second (or 75th wind) and decided we just had to plow through this and get it done at home, forget sleep, it was not going to come. The midwife came in to check my progress and realized I was 5.5-6cm dilated, which was a point where she could no longer let me go home. I was now admitted in labor. Fuck. Every time we came up with a plan, someone came along and shat on it.

At this point, I was still with the back up doula who only expected to come in for morphine sleep. Sucks for her, she was stuck with me for the long haul. It was time to flip the baby and kick the labor into gear. I put normal clothes on and did some various painful exercises with the doula in hopes to flip the baby. These moves left me crying and out of breath, but was hopeful they would move this dumb babies head to a better position. We walked and labored in the halls and then labored in the tub and shower; that's when my original doula showed up and the two were able to both work with me.

breathing through the contractions

I'm not sure how much time had lapsed at this point, but S says I was laboring in the hospital for a good portion of the day, around 6 hours. He says it was one of the most stressful aspects to continue to watch me suffer. Then the midwife came in and said because I was progressing (dilation-wise) so slowly that they would need to start pitocin (yet another intervention I wanted to avoid). She said because my uterus had been contracting for so many days, I was at risk for hemorrhage. I knew that pitocin brings contractions on hard and fast and I wasn't sure if my body or mind, or my husbands for that matter, could take it unless I had another epidural.

Normally when you have a birth plan that revolves around a natural intervention-free labor, your doula will try and get you through the labor naturally, even when you ask for an epidural. At this point, they were both in agreement that an epidural was necessary, no one argued.  Luckily, there was a new anesthesiologist working and she was fabulous and walked me through each step and was able to avoid the large hematoma that the last anesthesiologist left on my spine. When she was done, she asked how many contractions I had felt... Contractions? Oh glorious god, this epidural worked on both sides of my body.

Finally I could rest. Pitocin was started and the midwife promised to leave me alone for about 2 hours so that my body could take time and start to progress. S is overwhelmed at this point and decides to get some fresh air and food while I settle in.

About 30 minutes go by when my midwife and an OBGYN walk into the room...

**At some point we rolled into Friday morning...**

my birth plan not only went out the window, it was shredded and stomped on as well. [part 1]

I know that births don't usually happen according to your birth plan, but I still feel that creating a birth plan can be beneficial, however I could not have imagined my birth deviating so far from my plan. Although the plan deviated so much, I don't regret any decision I made throughout my labor process.

***This is the story about my chunky monkey Avielle's birth on January 10th (3 days past due date). I leave no details to the imagination and have included some pictures. If you don't want to read all about birth, I suggest you go look on Buzzfeed for adorable puppies instead. ***

My birth was such a long process that I need to break it down in a timeline fashion. Yes, that's right, my labor was 4 days long plus 3 days of "false" labor.... totaling 7 days filled with contracting fun.

Saturday January 4th- Early in the morning I started having period type cramps and knew that this was the start of things. My previous blog entry accounts the details about my prodromal or "false labor." This prodromal labor started saturday morning and went through Monday the 6th.

Monday January 6th- Went to work despite having contractions. The contractions were varied in length and not great in intensity, but was still probably a bad idea to go to work...

Tuesday January 7th-  Woke up at 3am with stronger contractions that were about 8 minutes apart and lasting about 30-40 seconds. Doula said she would come to the house when they were closer to 4-5 minutes apart. I took baths and showers and napped when I could. Around 2pm, contractions increased again in intensity getting harder to work through on my own (oh man, little did I know what I was in for). These contractions slowly gained in intensity through the day, but never closer than 7 minutes apart. I had a little bit of my bloody show at one point, which got me more excited.

Braving the cold and contractions during one of Chicago's coldest days

Wednesday January 8th- Was up much of Tuesday night with diarrhea and contractions still 7 minutes apart, at some point I also lost my mucous plug. I wanted the hubs to get sleep, so Tuesday he slept in the guest room, while I spent a lot of time napping in the bath. At this point I had not gotten much sleep since Monday night and it was just beginning to take a toll on my body. The contractions were now pretty pronounced in my back, which I knew was a bad sign of a posterior baby. Shit, I had to flip her anterior if I wanted less pain with every contraction. My doula sent me some positions to try to flip her, these felt miserable, especially during contractions, but I did my best. When the contractions would come I would close my eyes and deep breathe. A friend told me to just let your body go, let the contractions sweep over you like the ocean. I would picture swimming in the waves during our vacation in Brazil years ago. This would help some, but this was only the beginning...

Wednesday afternoon/evening I began to feel a little desperate. I was frustrated that the contractions were consistent, but still only 7-8 minutes apart. This means I had been having consistent contractions every 7 minutes since Tuesday. I wanted to progress. I wanted something to happen. I called the midwife to ask what my options were and they decided that my sleep deprivation was taking a toll and preventing my body from progressing. What I needed at this point was sleep, and then once well rested could work with the doula to flip the baby and hopefully labor would fly. The midwife said I had three options for sleep: Tylenol PM, Ambien, or Morphine sleep. I am not a huge fan of drugs and feel Ambien is a dirty drug, so I opted for Tylenol PM. 

At this point I couldn't get comfortable and during contractions I became more vocal, a deep moaning sound was all that could get me through the pain. The Tylenol PM obviously didn't touch this, I got no sleep, not even rest. I moved all over the house trying to find a position that would give me some break from the pain. No luck. Late in the evening I got in the shower and had a full on panic attack. The contractions seemed to come on furiously with no break, plus I was exhausted and emotionally drained. I couldn't catch my breath. I needed my husband but couldn't get to my phone. I was panicking. Finally I made it out to get my phone to tell him to come upstairs. I was on all fours on the ground at this point hyperventilating. S talked to the doula and she suggested we go to the hospital and at least get checked to see if I was progressing.

On the drive to the hospital, I had calmed down and once again my contractions spaced out to 8-10 minutes apart. The midwife checked me, I was 3cm dilated and 75% effaced. This was the first time I had been checked, so was glad to know my body was at least doing something, but still not enough to admit me. Again, my options were more Tylenol PM, Ambien or Morphine. We decided to go home and discuss and continue on.

Little did we know how this would all take a turn...