Ceirnan's Birth: Faster Delivery, Longer Recovery

So she is nearing three weeks old and I am just sitting to write out her birth story. It's been an adjustment, but I will get to all of that later. For now, I'll start at the beginning.

I would say Ceirnan's birth story started way before her actual birth date. On Thanksgiving (4 days before she was born), I woke up feeling really sick. I spent the day in a chair in our living room with a wash cloth over my eyes because my head hurt so badly. It seemed I had developed a sinus infection or something. I went through 2 full boxes of tissue that day and even had to give myself a breathing treatment. I kept trying to decide if I should go to the hospital because I had just finished taking antibiotics and my doctor had warned me if they didn't work, I could have something serious. I decide not to go though and just drank a lot of hot tea and wrapped up in a blanket. I was truly miserable.

The next day I woke up feeling a bit better. We were planning on putting up our Christmas tree and I didn't want to miss seeing CJ's face. Around 9 am, I started having contractions. At first, I thought they were braxton hicks, but they quickly developed into a pattern. I waited about 3 hours until the contractions were around 7-8 minutes apart for awhile. I decided to take a shower in case it was for real. After the shower, I laid back down for a bit and the contractions tampered off.

The rest of the weekend was rather uneventful. I had some more contractions, but nothing quite as rhythmic as Friday morning. We spent Sunday giving CJ all of our time. We went for a long drive with my Dad who had come into town on Tuesday to be with us. We had a great lunch at a cute pub by the bay, took CJ to the park, and got ice cream. That night I packed my bag for the hospital since I had a doctor's appointment in the morning. I did not want to change Organ's when we moved from Philadelphia to Newark so I wanted to take my bag with me just in case. Newark to Philly is around an hour away.

Monday morning came and I woke up feeling like this was they day. I had no idea though how things would go. I first had to go to the ultrasound office for a biophysical ultrasound and non-stress test. The tech couldn't do a great non-stress test, but took my blood pressure and was concerned because it was pretty high- 180/100. I went to the ultrasound room for the biophysical scan. The baby looked good. Good breathing. Amniotic fluid levels were good. Heart rate was good. The tech went to get the ultrasound specialist to clear me so I could head to Dr. Shawl's for my regular appointment. In the meantime, another nurse came in and took my blood pressure again. It was down a bit, but not great. The specialist decided to call Dr. Shawl to see what he recommended. Next thing I knew it, I was checking in on the maternity ward. Dr. Shawl had decided I should go ahead and deliver just in case.

CJ was an induction so I knew a little of what to expect. I got changed, got my IV in, tried to get comfortable in the bed, and waited. Dr. Shawl came over and checked me. Sure enough I had already been contracting and was dilated to between 3-4, 100% effaced. He broke my water and the contractions began coming fast and hard. I was almost immediately in a rhythm at about every 5 minutes. Dr. Shawl put an internal monitor in, which attaches to the baby's head. We were off. After about an hour, the nurse came in and started some petocin to speed up the contractions. They were about every 3 minutes at this point and the petocin really stepped up the level of pressure. I had been doing okay until then. I was still coughing quite a bit and had a lot of congestion. I was trying to rest because I was afraid I wouldn't have enough strength to push. As the pain level rose, so did my blood pressure at some points reaching over 200. The nurses explained that pain will increase the pressure and asked me if I wanted an epidural. I had one with CJ, but I had hoped to avoid it or at least wait a bit longer. I had done almost all of CJ's without one and really felt like I could have avoided it if I had known how close I was to the end when I finally gave in. This time I was getting concerned over my pressure though and honestly was feeling exhausted already even a bit defeated. I decided to go for it.

After the epidural was in, I simply rolled over and closed my eyes. This time around was so different from CJs. During his delivery, it was like a party. My dad and best friend John were there along with Casey and we watched movies, joked around, listened to music. This time, I just slept while Casey did homework. Around 4pm I sat straight up realizing that I had to throw up. Poor Casey couldn't find anything other than a bed pan for me to use. Luckily it was clean. Around 5:30 pm Dr. Shawl came in and said I was 7 cm dilated. I thought "we are in for a long night". The epidural was wearing off and I began to feel more contractions. About an hour later, the nurse came in and said Dr. Shawl said it was about time to push. I was surprised to say the least given I had only been about 7 cm.

Dr. Shawl came in almost right behind her and started setting up. Suddenly I started feeling the urge to push. It was like seeing the equipment set my body in motion. Dr. Shawl laughed and told me to hold on a minute so he could go pee. He is such a crazy doc. By the time be got back in there, I thought I was going to split in two. He came over and told me to push. I took the position (chin down, legs up), and started pushing. I was amazed at how normal it felt. With CJ, I remember not even knowing how to push correctly. I pushed down with all my might until around the count of 7. Then Dr. Shawl said to stop. I was confused a second since it was my first push, but I heard him with the suction. I sat forward and said is she out? Dr. Shawl said she will be with one more push. I pushed again and out she came. Two pushes! I was in shock. I pushed with CJ for 90 minutes or so. Just I was trying to comprehend she was really out, I heard him say...it's a girl!

I sat straight up. What? Then Casey saying...What? Are you kidding? The noises slowly faded to the background. We thought it was a going to be a boy. We weren't sure and had her name picked out in case, but we were still in shock. Suddenly I looked at Casey and he looked as white as a ghost. He started to pass out. This was something we knew might happened as he hates all medical things and the sight of blood. The medical staff began working on him as he sank into a chair. My nurse however laid Ceirnan on my stomach and I got lost in her eyes. I hugged her and kissed her. I had not been aware that Casey got faint because he had seen her arm. At that moment, I heard Dr. Shawl say to call the neonatologist that something was wrong.

Ceirnan's right arm had a strange wound pattern and the forearm was smaller than her left forearm. The doctors came in and frankly had no idea what was wrong with her. They said she had to go to the NICU for the night at least and that they would start her on antibiotics. They continued to check her out while Dr. Shawl sewed me up and helped me deliver the placenta. It's always strange to me how the birth seems natural but the rest of it seems so medical. I suddenly became acutely aware of the massive number of people in the room as Dr. Shawl continued to joke and chat with me. My nurse was so wonderful. She insisted that I get to spend some time with the baby and stated she would bring Ceirnan down in a few minutes. I put Cerinan to the breast and cuddled her for about 20-30 minutes. By this time Casey was okay, but we were both in such shock. It came time for her to go much too soon and I said good-bye as they wheeled her away.

I got up and headed to the bathroom. I walked around for about 10 minutes and was feeling pretty good. Then suddenly it was my turn to go faint. I quickly sat and couldn't get up. They brought down my bed for transport, but I couldn't walk to it. After about 5 minutes, I forced myself to get up knowing that the sooner I could lay down the better I would feel. They wheeled my upstairs where I went into my room. The nice part of PA hospital and my insurance is that I had a private room with a pull out bed for Casey. He headed down to the NICU to be with Ceirnan as I settled in for an IV bad of fluids. The nurse kept coming in to check my pressure as it remained high. I was told that as soon as the fluids were in my system I could go see Ceirnan. What I wasn't told is that the bag wouldn't be done until around 4 am.

That night was really hard as I was still feeling the staring of high blood pressure and was so concerned about her. Case stayed down there most of the night until he was having a hard time staying awake while holding her. The next morning I went down and greeted by a whole team of doctors who basically said no one knows what happened, but we think she is going to be just fine. The next three days Ceirnan stayed in the NICU. The NICU was strange. The nurses were incredible and I felt blessed knowing the Ceirnan was not as sick as many of the other babies there. However, it was still terrifying. It was hard to hold her because of all of the wires. Her leads kept falling off, which would set off an alarm. The room was filled with the sounds of beeping and loud noises. It always seemed really dark too. She was so tiny to me, but bigger than most of the babies there. Her discharge weight was 6lbs 6oz compared to CJ's 7lbs 9oz. Since I am breastfeeding, I trekked from the 5th to the 2nd floor every couple of hours. I would have stayed down there all day, but I need to get regular blood pressure checks. My blood pressure was slowly gong down, but was still not good.

I don't think it helped that no one really could say what happened to our girl. She was blessed to be seen by some of the top docs in the country. She had a team including a pediatrician, dermatologists, interns, neonatologists, and plastic surgeons looking her over. The specialists were all from CHOP and were extremely interested in her case. Originally they thought the umbilical cord might have been wrapped around her arm, then they considered an amniotic band which is tissue that cuts off circulation, or aplaysia which causes skin not to grow in certain areas. None of them to fit exactly though. The reality is we will likely never know what happened. They all decided to finally let us go though with several appointments set up for follow-up. Dr. Shawl kept me an extra day. Ceirnan was kept an extra day too. We were finally discharged on December 3 in the afternoon.

Since we've been home there have been lots of doctors appointments both with her pediatrician and with the specialist at CHOP. Despite being scary, Ceirnan did wonderful and we are just so happy that she is here and is doing well. Her arm is healing nicely. She will likely require physical therapy for her hand and her arm will likely stay thinner than her other arm. Still, she is happy and healthy. I plan on writing more about this whole process later.

Self

I am so happy being a mother. I think motherhood brought out qualities in me that I never imagined I had. For instance, I am so patient with CJ. I can sit, fascinated watching him try something over and over when my normal personality would be to jump in and do it for him. It's just so neat to see him achieve something on his own. I can take slow walks and ignore my calendar. I no longer need a watch or have to check the time every 10 minutes. It's great. I believe most people would say I've always been pretty understanding and sympathetic perhaps to a fault, but motherhood has really brought more things into perspective for me. It often makes me pause to truly see what impact my actions are having on the world around me and how that will then impact my children's lives and the lives of those around them.

This being said...it's sometimes strange to see the new person I've become. I sometimes feel that I've left too much of myself go. Before I had CJ I swore I wouldn't be one of those moms who lost everything for the sake of the children (yeah...I didn't even realize how judgemental that sounded). Now, I look back and wonder where that woman went. I was the type who took time for herself, journaled, went to movies alone, even vacationed alone sometimes. I liked my solitude and enjoyed spending time trying to figure out me. Now the only time I am not around others is the 10 minutes I take a shower in the morning (if I am lucky and no one comes in to use the restroom). I haven't journaled in years and every time I decide I want to do something for myself (take a pottery class, sign up for yoga, etc) I end up feeling guilty because it takes money and time. I don't know...it's really strange. Now, we are on the brink of adding to the family so I see no sign of this changing. I know it's up to me to allow myself time and to return the parts of me I am missing.

Finish Line

So here I am nearing the finish line. It's like it is just over the hill. I know it's there, but I can't quite calculate how much longer it's going to take me. I try using every Math formula that I have ever not learned to figure out the exact moment I will run through the ribbon, but all I come up with is an intense desire for lemon drops.

I'm tired, but feeling much more energetic. I'm getting excited and I think I'm really allowing the fear that something is going to go wrong slowly dissapate. We have the bassinet and car seat ready. I dug out all of CJ's old clothes. I need to get some nightgowns and a few other items, but we are ready to head out.

The one year anniversary of loosing Lucy just passed. I thought it might bring me back into a deep depression, but it was okay. It's almost like passing the date made me say it's time to move forward. I was very sad, but I don't want this baby to feel that or to think that he isn't what I wanted. I mourned silently. Crying only a bit. Thinking of what she would look like today and wondering how I will react to being back into the hospital, but this time for a birth instead of a death. I still wonder if it had happened naturally or earlier would I still feel the same way. All I know is that one day my little girl's heart was beating and she was growing and a few days later they were wheeling me into the OR to take her lifeless body from me.

Now I am trying to only think of how happy we will be at the hospital this time. How much I enjoyed CJ's birth and how I hope this one goes as well. One thing we were a bit saddened by is that due to H1N1 CJ won't be able to come in to meet his little brother. I am hoping I'll be okay to go home quickly so that we can all be together.

Long Week

This pregnancy is moving right along. We still seem to have some disagreement about the due date. I've decided to ride it out. The baby will come when he wants to come or we'll induce in December. However, I can feel my body preparing already. I just hope the rest of me can get ready.

I'm really getting excited about the baby's arrival. However, this was a long week. It was national miscarriage and infant loss day yesterday. It took me by so much suprise and I really struggled with it. I cried at work, which is embarrassing even if no one sees you. I have really struggled with trying to be okay especailly now that I know this baby is fairly safe. It just doesn't change the fact that my daughter will never be here.

The other thing that has laid me out is these braxton hicks. Dr. Shawl says it may actually be pre-term labor since its so painful and there seems to be a rhythmic pattern to them. They are so painful. I had bad braxton hicks with CJ too, but I don't remember them hurting this much! Last night they lasted for almost two hours, but I was able to get them stopped by laying on my left side and drinking lots of water. We'll see.

I keep worrying that I won't know when I am in real labor because these hurt so bad and because last time I didn't realize I was in labor at all. I went in to be induced and Dr. Shawl pointed out that I had been in labor all night and was about 4 cm dilated. It didn't hurt really bad until I got to around 7 cm. Then it was like I was under attack.

I am nervous and exciting about this birth though. Being induced was nice because it was planned out and I am a planner, but I felt I didn't have much control over my labor because of it. This time I'm looking forward to a little more control and a little more uncertainty. I basically just laid in the bed all day until it was time to push last time because I had an internal monitor and couldn't walk around. This goes against everything I feel about labor and how it should go. I felt like I was delayed a bit because I couldn't walk or squat or do anything that felt natural. Hopefully, this time I will be able to do more of that.

Everybody's Pregnancy

Okay, so I've been trying the positivity thing and getting some pretty good results. I've felt better and have had a bit more energy. Today though I'm dragging and I'm a bit stressed and a bit just...ugh! It really comes down to this...why is pregnancy the one time when everyone thinks it's okay to turn into something about them. I want to be excited when nine million people ask me how I'm feeling and discuss childbirth with me, but really I'm not. You know why? 'Cause they really don't want to know. It's like when they ask me when am I going to let myself rest and quit working. Today was just a tough day. Lots of questions and suggestions on when I should quit and what I should do with my work while I'm gone and how I'm pushing myself too far. Mind you, I gave birth about 6 weeks after the end of one semester of law school so really I'm not pushing that hard watching Amazing Race on Sunday night TV. Last time I felt very in control of my thoughts and how my pregnancy is going. This time I've just lost that. I feel like everyone is interjecting their opinion and trying to make decisions for me even if they are well-meaning. It doesn't help that I have a completely testosterone driven world. All of my friends are male. My husband's male. My doctor is male. My boss is male as is my closest colleague. While they try hard, their opinions just come across as patriarchal and at best ill-informed (with the exception of Casey who knows how to approach me). I think perhaps it is worse this time since I lost the ability to drive and rely on Casey for everything. I rarely have time to myself (Casey says work time is time to myself, but I do not think it counts) and even if I did take time I would end up feeling so guilty about it that it likely wouldn't be worth it. I used to hate the 60-90 minute commute each day, but I miss it now. It was the one time I could just sit with some thoughts and listen to music. I haven't listened to a CD is over a year. BLAH! Anyway, it was probably not necessary for me to rant this much, but I'm just feeling a bit out of control.

Positivity

I'm currently trying to work on being more positive. This summer has been crazy at work and the stress has really kept me down. The past few weeks I was starting to finally feel some of that second trimester energy, which is good considering I'm almost into the third trimester. Then last week I kind of plummeted again. I was just so exhausted from work. Saturday night I couldn't sleep and that led to all kinds of questions in my mind. I spent almost two hours crying and then being mad at myself for letting my emotions get the best of me. I just kept wondering if Lucy was born to another family and reliving the guilt of her passing.

Last night started out great. I was exhausted, but in a pretty good mood. Then something just snapped and I became so angry. Poor Casey was trying to be nice and get me things and I just felt like he was giving me an attitude so I lost it. I ended up staying up late and waking up all achy this morning. At some point in the midst of my shower this morning, I realized that my being negative isn't helping anything. In fact, being negative is taking so much more energy than being positive does. I am so blessed to have a great family, a job, another baby on the way, and that we were not hit like many families when Casey's job was eliminated.

Pregnancy after Miscarriage

I've decided to use this blog to try and keep track of some of the things I'm feeling this pregnancy...of the changes that are going on in my world and how they are affecting me. I hope I can use it not only to talk about the hard things, but as a place to share joys as well. Our other blog is more dedicated to updating family on the status of CJ and now the new baby. I don't really find my voice there as I rattle off CJ's accomplishments for the week. I don't know. I just feel like I've lost myself a bit.

I am now 23 weeks pregnant. By all accounts I'm healthy with a healthy and thriving baby inside of me. He or she moves a lot although not as much as CJ did. I should be extremely happy right now. I am. Really. Sometimes I have to remind myself, but I really am. I just never had any idea how hard being pregnant after a miscarriage would be. Lucy's (the daughter we lost) due date came and went somewhere around when I was 10 or 11 weeks. It was an ending of sorts. Once the date passed, I realized that it wasn't a dream. She wasn't coming. It was hard. So many said getting pregnant again will make up for the loss, but it doesn't.

I have been struggling to find out what lesson I was supposed to have learned by her passing. I look in the mirror as I grow bigger and worry that something will still happen with this pregnancy. I'm too cautious and too tired. I am worried that my fear and worries are effecting the baby inside of me. I get angry too often.

Mourning is a hard thing when you've lost a pregnancy. It's private. It's not something you are supposed to share with others. People have so many views on pregnancy, viability, fetuses v. babies. This miscarriage gets tied up into those things. It brings up to people the abortion debate. If I mourn a "baby" that only made it 11 weeks inside of me, then I am giving power to a pro life movement. If I don't then I am denying my true emotions. All of these things become so complicated for people, it seems best not to bring them up. It's best to simply not talk about it at all as if it never happened. The problem is that it did. The problem is that it will affect this pregnancy and any other pregnancies I may experience. I am not going to discuss my political views here, but on a personal level I am trying to mourn the loss of a child that I rarely feel comfortable even mentioning. It's strange and lonely to be in this position.

Missing

Tomorrow I will graduate law school. I will be walking across the stage in full academic regalia looking out at the audience and seeing my friends and family. They are so proud. You won't be there though. This triumph, made in part by your kindness, is what ultimately left you to part. It's strange to think that my life goes on without you even though at times I am still so angry and hurt by your parting. I feel as if you should be there as you've always been supporting me. Was law school even worth it? I lost you. I lost Lucy. How can this honor make up for the sacrifice that was made? I wish you were there.

Birthday

Lucy's due date is coming up. By now I would have likely been at home eagerly awaiting her arrival. All of us are thinking it and we miss her as if she was actually here. I have had people say to me that at least she wasn't born because how horrible it is for parents to lose a child. The thing is to me and it seems to many mothers it is the same thing. In my mind, I see her as a baby as a little girl with yellow curls bouncing behind her. I see her in a little dress stepping on the bus for the first time and I can hear her sweet laugh. I don't know. Maybe it's not normal, but it seems okay for me. An old school mate just lost her 11 week old son. I'm not sure how it happened, but it has instilled a great deal of fear in me. I feel for her and her family. I can't imagine how hard it is to explain to the other little kids. I'm 10 weeks pregnant now. We are excitedly cautious unsure at what point we will feel comfortable. Two ultrasounds with heartbeats, all tests come back with good numbers, and yet I am worried. For now, we're just concentrating on getting through the emotions that will come on Lucy's due date and making certain that she knows we don't think of the new baby as her replacement.

Fear

A friend recently blogged about fear and it got me thinking. It's amazing how most people would say that I have been fairly fearless in my life and I suppose in a way that is true. Now fear seems to be a constant in my world, fear to move on, fear to stay still, fear to become what I thought I wanted to become.

I started this entry a few weeks ago and hadn't found the time to return to it. Today I started a new one and realized that fear is difficult. Once you get past the monsters and you move on to the next level new monsters emerge. It takes a lot to stand up and be counted. It takes a lot to remember who you thought you wanted to be. The question that remains to be seen is "Is it worth it?" Does fighting the monsters make a difference or is it simply a futile and redundant game?

I'll let you know.

Lucy

We named her Lucy. Most people don't even know that... It's too hard for people to hear or understand. People find it strange...she wasn't ever even here. What they don't realize is that she was still mine. She was here inside of me...her little heart was beating next to mine. I never imagined it would be this hard. I can't sleep even with pills. I see her everywhere. I smell her sweet baby smell. I am doing better. I can now see other mothers with their little girls and not cry...at least not until later. Even still, I can't put away her blanket. I can't find a way to put the ultrasound in a box to try and close the chapter. Everyone wants to know when we will try again. I want to, but it's hard know that it won't bring her to me. I will always feel the loss of her sweet soul. I want to be logical and rational. To simple state these things happen...to believe people when they so lovingly state god knew what he was doing. She's better off. The problem is I can't. The problem is she was my daughter. The problem is Lucy will never know how much I love her.

Cancer

She's dying. We've all believed for so long that she wasn't dying. BUT SHE IS. She's dying and there is nothing we can do about it. The cancer is eating her away and we sit at work, at home, at school and forget (or try to) that she is sitting at home dying. I e-mailed her and offered to bring by some dinner or come to keep her company. As if food and the few words I have could be of comfort. As if I can say something to erase the fact that she will never have children, that she will never be married, that she will never have the life that I take for granted when I'm stressed or tired or moody.

Through it all she's been worried about me. Worried that the loss of my baby could put me under some spell I can't awake from when it's she that will soon be sleeping. I feel helpless and wonder how one person can be so selfless and wonder what I can do to help the young people that will be so greatly impacted from the loss of her. I can't imagine. I can't begin to imagine. Would that I could make her world and mine intertwine as to keep her safe and strong and make that darkness disappear.