Finale (sort of)

So as you all may know once you actually have the child, you kind of lose all your free time.  At least for the first few months. Well, even know I feel like just trying to go and get my nails done is a task.  I went yesterday and there was a 3 week old!  Not getting his nails done, but you get the picture.

So after Emma was born the saga didn't end there.  Of course it didn't, you say.  With my luck, would you expect anything less?  We get wheeled back to the holding cell (where you go before you get a room).  It was really just a really really large waiting room with curtains and monitors and what not. Once I could wiggle my toes I was finally able to go to my room!  I was super excited to have a room all to myself and not have to change rooms again.  Yay!  My excitement was short-lived.  We get up to the maternity ward and get into my room which had lots of light, was spacious, and all around a very nice room.  It was so nice I proceeded to throw up on myself.  Apparently epidural and I don't mix.  Now, I'm not sure how many of you have had an epidural but you are basically numb from the boobs down.  So it was really difficult when they were trying to get my dressing gown off since I was hooked up to IVs and couldn't really help.  Joy!

Then, not even 10 minutes into our stay, we our told that we have to leave.  Apparently, no one told them that I would have to be on a Heparin drip (blood thinners) and they are not trained to administer them.  I'll have to go to the perinatal unit - which is for high-risk pregnant women.  They were excited because they never really get to deal with the newborn side of things.  I was not since we had to move rooms again.  And this room was not that nice.  But it had a bed for Hubbs.  Though, we later learned it wasn't that comfortable.

Ok this is getting long already.  Let's see if I can hit some more highlights/lowlights and be on our way.

1. I had my baby - HIGHLIGHT!
2. No one knew what was wrong with me.
3. Emma was borderline jaundice and had several tiny holes in her heart (VSDs) - as of the 6-month appointment, all holes are closed up.
4. Nursing wasn't going well.  She was latching just not doing it right so very painful.
5. Still hooked up to IVs, getting no sleep, and no answers.  Oh and no shower.  And no bra.  For those that have given birth and understand what engorgement is, you understand my pain.
6. Had to move rooms again!  I have lost count and this point, have you.
7. Still had nausea which is not that fun.

Ok, so Friday comes around.  People are still not telling us things.  No one is making a decision on what to do with us.  Christmas is on Tuesday.  At this point, we are pissed.  I break down and yell at the nurse (really there was no yelling and she welcomed our input).  We did not want to be in the hospital anymore, I was therapeutic (what it's called when you blood thinners are working), and come Monday no one would want to make a decision and we would be stuck in the hospital over Christmas.  So we pitch a high fit. And finally someone took notice. Our wonderful nurse did her best and we got the thing we so wanted:  to be discharged!

It took us about 8 hours to actually be discharged and then get home and all but we finally got to sleep in our own bed.  I could go into all the gory details about no sleep and what not that took place the next oh 8 months (YES, I have an 8-month old!) but it's not all that exciting.  We have had some ups, some downs, and some really crazy times. But all in all, we have an adorable baby (who happens to be screaming at this very moment, thank you grandma for taking a turn while we ALL recover from the stomach flu Emma so kindly brought home from day care, and no don't judge me for writing this while she is crying, I'm pumping so there - sticking my tongue out at you).

More later on the wonderful life of the Marleys.

Catch up - part three! ( I know, I'll try and wrap it up)

I didn't intend for this to take three long posts but well, a lot of crap happened.  And if I get it all down now, I won't have to later, right?  So being transferred doesn't sound all that bad.  Except imagine being all the way pregnant, super uncomfortable, you just heard that you have blood clots in your brain, and you have to be transferred to a hospital at least 30 minutes away.  Oh yeah, alone.  Hubbs had to follow in the car.  I'm not a wimp.  Not in the least, but frankly at this point, I was a big, giant baby.  I just wanted to sleep.  Little did I know I wasn't EVER going to sleep again.  And apparently you can't just transfer to a nice room in the other hospital.  We had to go to their ER.  And wait for a room.  And wait.  And wait.  During this waiting time I was told quite possibly the worst news for a pregnant woman - you can no longer get up to pee.  Yes, folks, I took it there (and yes, this isn't the worst news ever, but it was pretty damn irritating at the time).  So if you will, imagine you are huge and you have to pee every 10 minutes.  They are pumping you FULL of liquids and you have to haul your large butt onto a bed pan.  Not exactly the easiest of tasks.  So of course I was angry.  And yes I understand fully how serious blood clots are.  But COME ON!  The bathroom is 15 feet away.

Let's just say that I (unintentionally) made this horrible for them.  By the time I get to Fairfax it's after midnight.  And all the probing, questions, test taking starts all over.  I have to tell the exact same story a million different times to a million different people.  It gets quite annoying.  And I'm still in the ER.  With all the other sickies just floating their germs towards me.  Hubbs finally shows up and let me just point out now in case I forget to later that he is the best husband ever.  He rarely complained during this whole ordeal and stayed by my side practically the whole time.  I could not survived without him.

So sometime around 5 in the morning (for those of you keeping track it has now been 17 hours since first going to the hospital). I finally get a room.  For those also keeping track, technically this is my third room in two hospitals.  I'll keep the tally going for you, it gets better.  I get transferred to the Neuro ICU.  I get a HUGE room.  I also get their version of a sponge bath - essentially a baby wipe wipe down.  This left me sticky and mildly damp.  And uncomfortable - in more ways than one.  But in their book, I was clean.  I won't bore you with all the details but I will provide the highlights (lowlights):

- I finally convinced them I could walk the 5 steps (I kid you not) to the in-room toilet (highlight)
- No one knew what was going on with me and I had to continuously get blood drawn (lowlight)
- The doctors were not talking to each other and were very mysterious about when I could actually give birth - no v-birth for this kid.  They told me that I couldn't go into labor because, well, the pushing and stress could rupture the blood clots (yes, clots, 20% of my brain had blood clots).  Now, even a normal person would find that info stressful.  Me, I found it incredibly stressful, which in case you didn't know, is not good to prevent more stress. (LOWLIGHT)
-We got to see baby M practice breathing on the monitor. (highlight)

Then after (I think) 2 days, I get transferred to another room (now the 4th).  I end up on the Neuro floor.  With a roommate.  Who farts.  Yay!  Joy!  Not cool.  May I also remind you that I haven't showered in three days.  And am not really allowed to get up that much (except to pee! - yay!).  I am going crazy.  The drs aren't talking to us.  They aren't talking to each other.  I am getting more and more angry and stressed.  By Monday I was livid.  I wasn't getting enough sleep.  I wasn't being poked and prodded every 4 hours.  I pulled a muscle in my back.  Was gaining weight like a champ.  I was NOT a happy camper.  Hell, camping would have been more fun.

I somehow managed to convince the OB people that I needed to have this baby and I needed to have this baby now.  So, I did.  They scheduled me for a C-section for Tuesday, December 18 at noon.  Not a bad birthday if you ask me. 

My C-section went relatively smooth.  Oh except for that whole "holding" time beforehand (while I waiting in another "room").  I got to meet Boris (like the first LT.).  Told me I had a beautiful name in a nice Russian accent.  I shook the operating table.  But (victory) I was awake.  And Hubbs was next to me.  And at 1:11PM I met my beautiful baby girl.  She weighed 7 pounds 4 ounces.  And had some lungs.  I'll admit it, I cried for a second.  Mainly because I was doped up and got sad that my Dad wasn't here to see her. 

Well, I tried to wrap it up but couldn't.  More later.  Oh yeah, we named her Emma Elizabeth.

Catch up - part deux

So there I am in my fancy hospital gown all dressed up and no where to go.  I have some pretty bad memories of this ER and am not too excited about being back there.  I'm wheeled passed the room my dad was in and find a nice little bed waiting for me in room 8.  Why I remember the number, who knows, but I do.

A nurse comes in and starts asking all the same questions about.  Blah blah blah.  Then she says something that struck me.  It was like she reached out and slapped me.  "Oh you're just trying to have your baby on 12/12/12."  Now to be fair, I thought it would be totally cool to have that as her birthday, but it's not like I was faking symptoms.  Though at this point most of them had subsided and I am starting to think that there isn't anything wrong with me.  You know, the girl who cried headache.

I get hooked up to an IV (not fun at all since I hate needles).  Hubbs is all it won't hurt.  Big, giant LIAR!  It hurt like no other.  And it continued to hurt.  I still maintain that they put it in wrong.  But you'll come to see that I had loads of fun with IVs over the course of my stay.  Yes, a stay, not a visit.  More on that later.

So this nurse leaves and we finally get to see a dr.  Or assistant.  Or something. Some of the details are a little foggy.  At this point I'm starving.  I have to pee.  And I'm grumpy.  Grumpy cat has nothing on me.  So the dr. person tells me I need a CAT scan.  Joy.   You try holding still while pregnant and uncomfortable.  In the mean time I have to have an eye exam.  So we waddle over to the eye chart.  Well, I waddle, Hubbs walks behind me.  He informs me after the exam that I missed most of them.  Great.  I'm going blind.

We are sitting in our room waiting.  Because that is all we do apparently.  And we see a set of hairy legs start to walk towards our "door"  (a curtain really).  And then we hear the following "Sir, I said room such and such, NOT room 8.  That is not your room."  And then through the crack of the curtain we see a man (also in a hospital gown) walk passed our room.  That was a close call.

Throw some boring stuff in there and some time goes by.  We have the CAT scan.  Some more time goes by.  Get the results.  The results show nothing.  So let's do an MRI.  Now needles and I don't get along.  MRI's and I have a very hateful relationship.  I am mildly claustrophobic.  This is not a joke.  Also, again you try being pregnant, a bladder that fills itself every two seconds, and lay still for 45 minutes.  While loud noises are going on around you and you are in a tiny space that is alternately blowing hot and cold air on you.  Sound like a picnic?  Oh and be starving.

I won't bore you with the details but I made it through by signing Christmas carols and nursery rhymes.  I learned that I don't really remember the words to many of them and must remedy that soon.

At this point it is 9, 10 o'clock at night.  I have, thankfully, eaten some dinner.  And then the dr. person comes back.  We are located right across from the nurses station.  So we can hear a lot that is going on.  And we hear the dr. person on the phone with someone.  I believe my OB.  Then we hear the words blood clot.  Now as many of you may know or experience yourself, watching of the ERs, the Grey's Anatomy's, the Scrubs, you have a ton of thoughts, ideas, crazy things that run through your head.  I did the same thing.  And begin to panic.  Hubbs, who is probably going crazy in his own head is frantically trying to calm me down.  It's not working.

The dr. person comes in and explains that I have a sinus thrombosis (don't worry, I had it before Hillary Clinton thought it was cool to have one).  And that I was being transferred to Fairfax.  I don't want to go to Fairfax.  We live 5 minutes from this hospital.  Dr. person tries to reassure me that it's ok and that it probably won't matter because I'll be checked out and then released.  That little dr. person is a big, giant LIAR.

to be continued....

A little catch-up - part 1

So it has been quite awhile.  I know you have all missed me.  All one of you.  But that is ok, because eventually that number will grow and I will have minions.  Million of minions.  Er, I mean followers.  And if not, at least I'll have a chronicle of certain parts of my life. 

Last we talked I was pregnant.  Well.  I'm sure you guessed.  I'm not anymore!  Yay!  I know have a beautiful 3-month old baby girl.  And this post will try and fill you in on the journey to meeting her, as well as the aftermath.

Shall we begin?

Let's go back to December.  I had already been working from home two days a week because of DR's orders.  I had a pinched nerve and sitting for long periods without being able to move (i.e., in my hour+ long commute) were not helping.  But Hubbs had decided that he didn't want me in Alexandria for the last few weeks of pregnancy in case something happened while I was at work.  The hospital would be an hour away and well who wants to drive while in contractions?  I certainly didn't.  So with this argument I requested the ability to work from home starting Dec 10.  My due date was Dec 27. 

December 12th rolls around.  I'm doing my thing, having a day, working on documents.  Then my vision starts to get blurry (around 10ish).  I IM Wendy (my resident go-to-guru for all things baby related and coworker).  I ask her her opinion and she says I should call my OBs.  So I proceed to call them and they suggest that I eat some protein.  Apparently I had had a carb-heavy breakfast.  Well, let's just say that cooking eggs (the only readily available protein in the house) is very hard when you can't see straight.

So I eat the eggs.  I also find some cheese.  Nothing improves.  Now I have a severe headache.  I go back to my computer and relay progress to Wendy.  She suggests maybe I should go to the hospital since blurry vision can be a symptom of preeclampsia.  Greaaat.  I call Hubbs and try not to freak out.  He isn't at his desk.  Luckily we planned for this and I call his boss.  And lo and behold he is in his boss' office at the time.  I try not to breakdown and cry but fail.  I tell him he needs to come home and we need to go to the hospital.  Now he works 1/2 an hour away.  In that 1/2 hour my left arm and left side of my face goes numb.  I am relaying this all to Wendy (quite difficulty and with lots of typos probably).  She is freaking out.  Which in turn freaks me out.  She says I need to go NOW.  I tell her I can't drive.  She says call ambulance.  I call and see how far away Hubbs is.  He's close enough that I hold off on the ambulance.  But I do manage to get our last remaining items together (the hospital bags are already in Hubbs' car - smart thinking on my part if I do say so).

While waiting I get sick.  Which is not fun.  Ever.  I am trying (to no avail) to calm down.  By the time he pulls up I am thoroughly freaked out.  We get in and head to the birthing inn.  Luckily it's only 5 minutes away (how convenient right?).  I call my OB on the way in and tell them that I am heading in to the birthing inn.  We get there, and amazingly get sent right back to the triage area (where they check you out).  They take blood pressure and put a monitor on the baby.  Do a Doppler.  Make me pee in a cup.  All the good stuff.  I even get to see my DR.  And they tell me nothing is wrong with the baby.  That she is "textbook healthy".  By this point I'm thinking it was all in my head.  Just a bad headache from lack of sleep.  But nooooo, they want us to go to the ER to get me checked out.

Off to the ER we go.  Oh did I mention that I don't get to put my clothes back on.  So I'm being wheeled through the hospital in a hospital gown.  I'm freezing and trying to keep my lady bits and bobs from showing.  Don't worry though, it won't be the last time.

....to be continued