Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Joseph's Birth Story

Joseph Reid Quirk’s Arduous Arrival

After spending a week sweating in 100+ degree heat and 39-40 weeks pregnant, on the boy’s due date (July 3), I had one final prenatal appointment.  Not-my-usual-nurse-practitioner broke the news that we would go ahead and schedule an induction for one week later, in case I needed it.  When she left the room, I started crying.  She prescribed sex, walking, and the Preggo Pizza from Skippolini’s.  Well, I did one of the 3, at the mall, with Noelle.

That night, through my requested Mexican food dinner, I was having Braxton Hicks every 6 minutes.  The child had been moving viciously all afternoon, making the heat even more uncomfortable.  Those BH didn’t turn into anything, so we watched a movie (Liam Neeson’s The Grey).  I went to bed having a feeling that something was going to happen in the night but I didn’t tell anyone.

Around 12:30, I started recognizing painful contractions.  Looking at the clock, they appeared to vary between 10-12 minutes apart but they were already very painful.  I went to the bathroom and a big blob of something came out.  I called L&D and after being on hold for an eternity (not ok people!) the girl assured me (rudely) that my water had not broken and to call again when my contractions were 5 minutes apart for an hour.  After a few hours of contractions 10 minutes apart, Luke woke up and I told him I was having contractions but they were very painful and different than with Addy.  He got me a damp cloth which was a savior.  He also put a towel on the bed under me.  Just in case.  Around 5am, I started noticing the contractions coming a bit closer together, varying from 7-9 minutes apart.  At this point I was moaning and really struggling through them because they were all back labor.  It felt like my lower back and pelvis were being ripped apart.  Nothing like with Addy.  Nothing like menstrual cramps.  Nothing like I’ve ever felt before or had any preparation for.  Any time I got out of bed, I would have a contraction, regardless of whether I had just had one.  Luke started timing the contractions and they were averaging 7 minutes apart but still varied.  Around 6am I said, “We need to go.  This is not ok.  We need to go.”  So he woke up Mum so she could shower.  As he tried to get in the shower I blasted into the bathroom, dry heaving, and made it in time to barf in the toilet (sort of).  He was taken aback, but proceeded with his shower.  I crawled out of the bathroom where Mum greeted me and assured me Addy was being looked after by Papa.  Some how I got to standing and, with Mum’s support, retrieved the necessary belongings to go with us to the hospital.

Finally we got in the van, me with my water and damp cloth.  On the drive to Kaiser, my contractions came closer together (about 4 minutes, according to Mum) and were extremely painful.  Between contractions I apologized for being so noisy.  We got to Kaiser, got to the second floor, and when a lady came out to greet us, I was having a contraction and all I heard her say was, “We need a bed!”  In Triage I checked out at 7-8cm and 90% effaced so it’s a DARN good thing we left home when we did.  The Kiwi Triage nurse drove me in the bed to an L&D room where a nurse (Jennifer) and midwife (with the most beautiful eyes and freckly face and radiant smile) were waiting and smiling at me.  They were like angels because I was so happy to be there.  They got me into the bed, hooked up the stupid antibiotic IV, and I proceeded with contractions.  I was in transition at that point, and nothing anyone did could ease the excruciation of this back labor.  We tried different positions, massage, etc., but each was more painful than the last.  Finally they asked if I felt like pushing (when I was standing next to the bed with my head resting on pillows on the bed, my favorite prenatal pose), and I said maybe, so they put a pillow under me on the floor.  Somehow I ended up back in the bed and the new midwife/drill sergeant (shift-change=Christiana) wanted me to try a different position on the bed (kneeling facing the back of the bed with my arms up.  She thought I might like to push in this position.  Very nice and midwifey of her, but no.  I was so shaky and tired from laboring all night and being so hot and dehydrated for so long that I couldn’t stay like that for long.  I got into a more traditional position for pushing and they broke my water.  Shortly after, I was complete and they wanted me to push when I was ready.  I really relied on Luke’s counting and Mum and Luke helping hold my legs.  I wanted to do it the same as with Addy—the same “choreography.”  I pushed for about 15 minutes, not for one second thinking I could possibly finish this, and then I hear people saying, there’s the head (or something), and the nurse talking in my ear, telling me I can do this, to breathe, to use my energy for pushing instead of screaming, to listen to the midwife when she said to stop pushing so I didn’t tear.  I heeded her as best I could and out came my baby.  They put him on me immediately and I just sobbed, “My baby, my baby!” and kissed his dark hair.  He was so beautiful and I couldn’t believe it was done.  I just held him and looked at him while other people did who-knows-what.  I vaguely recall Luke cutting the cord and Joseph crying a bit, but mostly just his warm skin on my chest and his little breathing and his little beating heart and oh-my-god how grateful I was that that ridiculous labor was over and my little person was finally with me on the outside.

The midwife talked to me a bit, but was mostly focused on what mu placenta was going to do.  She offered some prodding to help it get a move on, but it stayed put.  She used a catheter to try to create space for it to come down, but that was just painful and didn’t work.  She decided to stitch me up first to give it time to come on its own.  Getting stitches was painful this time, though I’m not sure why because it was lesser tearing than with Addy.  After 30 minutes, my placenta still hadn’t come out, and the midwife got called to deliver another baby so she sent in the OB.  A lovely small young woman came in and worked her magic with her hands and out came the placenta (thank goodness nothing more invasive was needed), but they gave me pitocin to prevent bleeding (fine, whatever).

When all this was done, they gave me back Joseph and I fed him.  He was a champ from the get-go.  A serious boob-man.  That’s my boy.  That’s my love.


Born at 8:34am on Thursday July 4, 2013 after about 8 hours of total, natural labor.  He was 8lb 5 oz and 21 inches long (whoa!).

Thursday, November 24, 2011

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Monday, January 24, 2011

A Sad List

As the "one-month until I go back to work" mark passed, I am thinking more and more about how on earth I am going to cope with not seeing my little baby girl all day. So I'm starting a couple of lists.

Reasons I don't want to go back to work:
-I am really enjoying my routine of gym, yoga, Day One, Kaiser
-I love seeing her wake up from every single nap
-I love breastfeeding her
-I love wearing workout clothes all day
-I love being woken up by her goo'ing and gaa'ing rather than an alarm
-I love watching movies, playing online games, and checking Facebook every 10 minutes
-I love seeing Luke so much
-I love not missing anything Addy does
-I love only having to think about baby stuff
-I love having the energy to do things like vacuum and clean toilets
-I am finally starting to feel like a mommy
-I am going to be jealous of Luke again, but for more reasons now

Reasons I want to go back to work:
-Money/benefits
-To not feel lazy
-The district needs me (I think)
-I miss my colleagues
-Remembering how to use my brain for something other than baby
-It will be good for Addy to be with other kids

To be continued...

Thursday, December 30, 2010

One Year Later: In Remembrance

Dear Mommy, December 30, 2010

I'll shed no tears for you today.

Though one year ago you became my AngelMommy, I will not mourn. For if you taught us anything, it is not to mourn in the face of tragedy but to stand firm, resolute, determined, and with patience. No tears, only strength.

I can't believe how much you've missed this past year. Your beautiful grandchild sleeps in the next room and reminds me that the real tragedy is that you never met her, though you wanted nothing more in your life. Yet, she is you. Every molecule, every breath, every ounce of her spirit is you. I look at her every day and I see you. Her eyes are your eyes and her joy is your joy. The tragedy is that she will never meet you. Her Angel Shelf in the nursery is adorned with relics of you, so she will know your image, and she will only have to look inside herself to know your spirit and soul.

I can't believe a year has passed since we watched cancer consume your body. My mind is wrought with imagery every day, some beautiful, some gruesome. Every day, I think of you at some point in your life with me. I think of going to the mall with you and never really appreciating your generosity towards me. I think of you taking me to doctor appointments as a child. I think of you in every moment of my life, watching, smiling, waiting for me to ask for you advice, knowing I always would. And every day I remember your best advice: "Just be nice." I try so hard for you... Sometimes I remember going to chemo with you and your optimism. I don't think I every really knew how deadly this cancer was until we were told, "It's time for hospice." Then I understood. Then we watched you recover from a devastating brain injury only to come back to us and grow weak again, and perish. The miracle in it all was that you did recover from the brain injury and we were able to spend real time with you. You never cried in my presence, just like my whole life. You were strong and calm and patient. I will strive for these qualities in my own adventure of parenthood.

I will never be as good a mother as you were to me. My whole life, the only thing my very active imagination could not conceive of was losing you. Then, one year ago, my imagination was tested. Inconceivable. Every day for the past year, I wake up wondering, was it all a dream? I think of calling to tell you the smallest things, or to send a picture of Adelaide. I pause and remember. Those are the moments where you still live. I will never stop thinking of you.

Adelaide will know you. She will refer to you as Oma, as you wanted. She will know when your soul is shining through in her, and she will love you. This is my promise to ensure you live on.

I'll shed no tears for you today. The tears I shed are for me, and for Adelaide, and for Daddy, and for Grandma, and for Luke, and for Auntie and Uncle Mark, and Oma and Opa, for we are the ones left behind. You wouldn't want us to be sad for you, but the selfishness in me can't help but be sad for myself. I miss my mommy every day. I will miss her forever. And I'll try to emanate you in everything I do, but things will never be the same.

I love you forever, my AngelMommy,
Your daughter,
Lorien

Friday, December 3, 2010

Approaching "One year since..." and My Grief

A friend asked me a while back about my grieving. Today is my mom's birthday and I am obviously thinking a lot about her. I remembered something that was absolutely a huge part of my grieving and possibly a reason I did get through grief quicker--right after she passed, my dance teacher choreographed a piece in her/my honor to the song Time in a Bottle which is an amazing and very sentimental song to my family (I don't know how he knew that...). He taught us the beautiful lyrical choreography in class for 3-4 weeks and we just danced and I cried every time and my dance friends comforted me. The last week we did the routine, I had the biggest cry of all at the end of class and my teacher just held me and cried with me and that was it. I didn't cry for a long long time after that. So I guess that's my answer. I grieved through dancing and music... appropriate right?

I went back to dance on Wednesday (I had to stop going in May because of my back during pregnancy) and everyone was amazed at my body! My tummy essentially went back to flat about 2 weeks after she was born though there's still a bit of extra skin. I am definitely more "feminine" now, but it felt good to "show off" to people who obviously know my body very well. Luke did amazingly well while I was gone. It was his first time alone with Addy while she was awake the whole time (2.5 hours). Usually I only leave him with her if she's sleeping. It felt so amazing to be back at dance and made me feel like I can still have a semblance of myself even with a child. I start to feel like it's impossible to really be myself anymore, but I'm really morphing into a different person, with Addy becomming a huge part. But the other parts of me are equally important to remember and exercise whenever I can! I'll be able to love her more if I feel love for myself... I don't know if I'll go back the whole month of December because of the holidays, but come January I think it will be part of my life again!

Friday, November 19, 2010

Holiday Card

Picture Joy Christmas
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Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Adelaide's Amazing Arrival: October 11, 2010


Sitting here in the cloud of new mother-hood, I’m overwhelmed by the paradox: the feelings of awe and disbelief mixed with a feeling of “extreme-rightness.” How did this happen? Is this real or am I just dreaming? Caught in the haze, I’ll try to remember the details of this child’s amazing arrival into our world…
On Sunday October 10 in the afternoon, I felt a sensation I decided to call a contraction, though having never actually felt one before, I really had no idea. I decided to time these “contractions” and found that they were occurring incrementally closer together, but at irregular intervals. Luke cooked me a beautiful dinner and we proceeded as if nothing was happening… Well around 3am, I confirmed for myself that something was indeed happening.
In the night, around 3, these “contractions” started becoming a bit stronger and occurring at regular 10 minute intervals. I tried to doze between them, but found myself glancing at the clock more frequently than anything else. By about 6, I decided to sit up, thinking it might help things move along. It did—by 8am they were about 6-7 minutes apart. Once they reached 5 for an hour, we diligently called labor and delivery who told us, respectfully, not to come in yet. So we tried to doze more for another hour, when I reached the point of near freak-out, not knowing what was really going on in my body and desperately wanting to find out.
We arrived at Kaiser at 10:40am where the triage nurse rather roughly checked me out. She said I was only 1cm dilated and that I should go home or go walking. I said, “You’re crazy, I’m not going anywhere” (in so many words). She got the midwife to check the baby’s position and the midwife also ventured into the argument of why the 1cm dilated nervous-as-heck pregnant lady should go have lunch in downtown Walnut Creek instead of staying at the hospital. I expressed my concerns, specifically around the blood pouring out of my body since the rough exam. She changed the pad and on the next gush I said, “Geez it’s so much,” and she said:
“Actually that was your bag of waters. You’re not going anywhere.”
“WHEW. I knew I wasn’t going to leave…” This was at 11:30am.
She explained that it was still so early on that I would probably be there a long time (well into the night or next day, she was guessing). I said I didn’t care, I was just so happy to not have to decide whether to go home or wander the streets of Walnut Creek!
I was eventually checked in, but by then the contractions were much stronger. Once I got in the labor and delivery room, I sat on the birthing ball for about 20 minutes, but then I had to get in the bed and have an IV because I was Group B Strep positive. I was also on the fetal heart-rate monitor and contraction monitor. This confinement was not ideal. However I soon realized I was quite lightheaded and breathing through contractions was not helping that situation. Luke thought I probably would have stayed in the bed during that time anyways.
Time went on, Luke and Mum helped me through contractions by breathing and concentrating. I said to Mum at one point, “This really sucks. This is so hard.” She agreed or course (you never argue with a woman in labor!). I tried to think about opening and relaxing, but it was so hard because it is your body’s instinct to tighten up when there is pain. I threw up massive amounts on a couple of occasions which was a surprise to both me and Luke (who actually got barfed on, unfortunately—prep for the long haul with a baby I suppose), but not to our wise nurse (ah, the things they don’t tell you in birthing prep class!). I felt like the contractions were getting stronger and stronger and refused offers for music or a movie, like we had planned as distractions during a potentially very long first labor. I didn’t want anything but to get through each contraction.
Finally the antibiotics in the IV were done and I was allowed to get out of bed. This was around 4:15. I had mentioned to the nurse at some stage that I would like to get in the shower for pain relief. She knew and supported my desire to have a natural delivery and never pressured for meds. Luke helped me into the shower where I tried standing for a little while. I moaned through the contractions at this point, because I started feeling like my legs were going to give out on me and my insides were going to come out. I was trembling violently. After a bit I sat on the seat with a hole in the middle with the water on my back and Luke’s wonder-hands massaging. Every time I had a contraction, he would tell me I was doing great and I would sometimes say, “Oh hunny, oh hunny,” never accompanied by swear words or curses. I decided I was done and that this was ridiculous and that I needed something to stop the pain. I thought I was such a wuss and that if I was going to have as long a labor as everyone thought I would that I would need an epidural to get through the worst pain yet to come (I truly could not imagine anything worse). The nurse came in and I said I felt like I needed a bowel movement. Luke said, “Please get the midwife so she can get checked for dilation.” The lovely nurse noticed the strength of my contractions and said, “Oh those are much stronger now.” I thought, “DUH!”
Somehow I got back to the bed and the magical midwife appeared. By this time it was 5pm, 5 and a half hours after my water had broken. I had my mind set that if she told me I was only 4 or 5 centimeters that I would ask for drugs. As I writhed through the exam/contraction, the midwife said, “WOW, actually if you want to you can PUSH.” I felt such relief that I wasn’t a wuss and that this would be over sometime soon. I also felt a twinge of disappointment that I would have to feel the remainder of the delivery. So they helped me set up for pushing and Luke did exactly like we practiced—counting through each push, paced by the midwife (though I liked his fast pace better).
After every contraction, I “relaxed,” wondering how far the head was and how many more times I would have to do this pushing business. I said something like, “I want to have this baby out now please!” The nurse and midwife and Luke said reassuring things like yes she’s coming soon, and asked me if I wanted to see the head in a mirror (“NO!) or feel the top of the head (“NO!). When I was ready to push again, I would say, “OK here it comes—HELP!” And pushing commenced. I pushed for 35 minutes and finally, in 2 big consecutive pushes, out came the baby. At 5:40pm on Monday October 11, 2010, this slimy gray blob appeared on my belly and I was thinking, “No way. That did not just happen. This is not a baby.” Then I saw her face and my heart stopped. It was a tiny little slimy gray Luke! The nose, the mouth, the chin (the slime… just kidding). I was sold. Forever.
The nurse tidied her up a bit on my tummy, then asked permission to weigh and clean her up (“Yes!” I’m not a fan of slime.). I got stitched up (only a small 2nd degree tear) and chatted with the midwife about the delivery. Both the midwife and the nurse said my type of delivery, as in, first, natural, and that fast, was 1 in 100, or even once per year and that it was amazing for them to be part of. They said I was amazing. I didn’t think so at the time because I felt pretty ragged, but coming from professionals, it was a huge compliment. The nurse also said I was quiet—that I argued with. I felt like I was screaming at the end of each push! I must have been because I was a bit hoarse the next day. Still, compared to others giving natural birth, apparently I did just fine.
We named the baby Adelaide Judith after the city in Australia where Luke and I met and after my dear mother. There was no other name on our minds when we met her! Her nickname will be Addy, in case she ever lives in Adelaide (but she will be a proud Crows supporter either way of course).
Overall, from the time I was assessed to be only 1cm to the point where I was in transition and ready to push was a mere 6 hours. Though my very early labor lasted a while, the progress and speed in the hospital was revered by all the staff who heard the story. I think I left an impression there (I wouldn’t have it any other way).
After 2 nights with Adelaide in the hospital (because she was born in the evening they let me stay an extra night—yay!), we made our journey home.
And now the real adventure begins…