Version: Medieval Torture or Medical Procedure? (part two)

As the nurse proceeded to collect my medical history, I began to experience feelings of regret. Should have reconsidered this version? Could a C-Section be that bad? Or could a version be that bad?

Before I had a chance to reconsider, or escape, the nurse scanned my belly. Little one was still transverse. With that, and my husbands arrival, the version was a go.

Within a few minutes, the room filled with observers: two doctors, a resident, three medical students, a nurse and two nursing students. The resident lowered the bed, so I was now lying flat. The nurse directs me to hold her hand, and directs my husband to hold my other. She whispers, "OK, look at the ceiling. Pick a dot. Stare at that dot and don't move."  Meanwhile, the doctors and residents circle my belly. The resident flips up my hospital gown, exposing my nether regions to the peanut gallery at the foot of my bed. "Did I shave?" fleetingly pops in my head.

One doctor scans my belly again. Taking the wand, he pushes and squeezes around my belly like he was kneading dough. "Not a great start, I think to myself." Little one has moved...180 degrees...since the last scan minutes earlier. He determines the location of the head and rear. He grabs hold of the head and the other doctor grabs hold of the rear. With a quick count, they push. Skin rubbing on skin, stretching further than intended. White hot burns searing into my memory. Without conscious thought, eyes water and shed rivers of tears. The dot overhead blurs behind my tears. Whispers from the nurse and my husband encourage rythmic breathing and focus. I can feel baby turning and moving inside me. Suddenly, they stop. He is in position. And with a sigh of relief, they leg go of him via my belly skin.

I am left lying, panting and crying on the bed. The pain is unreal, but it was fast. I did it. I gave us the chance for a natural birth. It was worth it. And then, the doctor says: "He moved."

"That JERK!" I instantly yell. Within an instant, baby moved from the forced head-down, back to transverse. The doctors tell me, they have to do it again.

No.
No.
No.

Any ounce of courage I had at the start has withered away. The prepare me for one more round. But unlike last time, I know what is coming. The pain is coated with the fear and anxiety of anticipation. I know before they even start: no way this is worth it. The version is repeated. When the doctors let go, my stubborn child immediately returns to his transverse nook. I am pretty sure out of pity, the doctors stop. They leave me to rest. My belly is hot, like a sunburn. Baby is mad and moving. I am drained...before Al Rooker delivers the national weather, I am passed out.

When I awaken, I learn I will be released. I have been scheduled for an induction and version in a little over a week (February 11).  This time, they will first give me an epidural, then a version, then break my water preventing baby from rolling out of position.

I waddled out of the hospital later that morning, feeling like I had been hit by a truck. But I learned a few things:

1. My baby has a mind of his own and might just be as stubborn as his sister
2. A version is undoubtedly medieval torture
3. A version is not worth
4. February 11 is my new favorite day

Version: Medieval Torture or Medical Procedure? (part one)

It was the morning of the version procedure. It was also the morning after a snow storm that dropped inches of heavy, wet, white slop across the city. The anxiety from the appointment was temporarily set aside to focus on navigating rush hour traffic in snow and malfunctioning traffic lights. The traffic allowed for no alternative. My husband would have to drop me off, then take Miss Boo to school, then return to be at my side.

They dropped my off at the hospital right on time. I waddled my way to the labor and delivery floor and checked in. The receptionist was the first to ask if I was alone. Always ready to recount a story, dive in to a detailed explanation of the adventure we had just trying to get here! "Then, we tried Harrison but it was back-up too. We ended up...blah blah blah blah blah...So, anyway, he'll be here after he takes our daughter to school." The receptionist chuckles and says, "Oh I am so glad to hear that," as she walks me to my room.

A nurse arrives directing me to place my belongings away and change into my gown. She also asks if I am alone. "Yes, you see....blah blah blah blah blah blah....so, he'll should be here soon." With a concerning look on her face, she says, "That's a good thing. Your nurse will be in shortly."

Realizing that I could have a baby today, I quickly snap a picture before changing. This could be my last bump picture! I love my look of joy and excitement. It's comical now.

After my photo shoot, I hop into bed to wait for my nurse. She arrives in a flurry of bubbly energy. You can quickly feel her passion and love for her work and patients. She introduces herself, then quickly stops. "Wait. Are you alone?" By now you get the drift, right? "Blah blah blah blah blah....so, he'll be here soon!" "Oh thank GOD. You DO NOT want to go through this alone," the nurse says.

Wait. What.

I asked what she meant. "Oh you mean if I go into labor or something?" She flashes a crooked smile, asking if I read anything about the version procedure. I tell her no, but the doctor had mentioned it would be uncomfortable. "Uncomfortable? That is one way to put it. Well, that's probably for the best you didn't read anything," the nurse said. She then asks me about my last labor and delivery (you can review this story on this blog, posts September and October 2009). "Oh, you should be fine..."

What the hell did I get myself into?

Close. But not quite.

I went in for my 37th week appointment late on a Monday afternoon. I was scheduled to see an office APRN as my doctor was out of town. It was a pretty standard visit, quickly running through the same stats as always.

Blood pressure: Perfect
Weight: Pretty good
Belly Measurement: On the mark
Dilated: 1 cm (no changes)

Upon completing her check, the APRN asks, "Any questions?" Uh. Yeah. IS THIS BABY BREECH? She feels around my belly, with a perplexed look on her face. "No. I don't think he is breech...but..."

BUT.

BUT what.

"Let me check you again," she says. "Well, I don't think he is breech, but....I can't feel anything?"

.........................................

Immediately, I am both confused, terrified and mystified. Yes, I felt huge so I could easily argue he had a small planet to discover within me; but the reality of my size was finite. It wasn't THAT big. So, where the hell is this baby?

The nurse decided to perform a quick ultrasound to discover baby is neither breech nor head down. Instead, he was comfortably nestled from side-to-side in the transverse position. The nurse suspected baby had turned a full 90 degrees since my last visit.

I considered it a mild victory. He had indeed turned, just not all the way. Surely, he could do it again...right? Just as my internal monologue cheered my success, I realized: there is a (small) chance of a breech vaginal delivery but NO way to birth a sideways baby. Rats.

Meanwhile, the nurse retrieved my doctor's partner. The doctor explained that at just over 37 weeks, the baby probably still has some room to move. "There is a chance he will continue to move into position. There is also a chance he is already too big. If that is the case, a C-section is the only option." Just as I suspected. Rats!

The doctor offers an alternative. A version procedure. She explains that she and neonatologist will attempt to externally turn the baby into position. If all goes well, I will continue my pregnancy to term and have the natural, vaginal delivery I preferred (ha!). There is a small chance the procedure could induce labor, so I should be prepared. She could schedule me this week, as the procedure should ideally be performed before 38 weeks. Without much time to process, I decided to try the procedure. After all, I had a few days. Maybe he would turn on his own with just threat of a version! The nurse returned with my appointment. Tomorrow.

TOMORROW!

Gulp.

Turn Baby Turn.

I'm back. And, yes, I have been juggling a crying baby for the better part of two four months. What else could possible keep me from blogging? So, where was I...

After a healthy cry session, I became obsessed with finding a natural way to turn this baby. "To the Google!" I declared. I am not sure if the amount of information I found was more comforting or concerning. "So this is common," I thought...."Wait, this is COMMON?" With one search, I had millions of blogs, medical Q&A's and natural/homeopathic pages all with different ideas ranging from the simple side lay to a complicated series of acupuncture and yoga. I opted for the least invasive (and expensive) options:

Attempt 1: Lay on your side with a ice pack resting on the area you want the baby to avoid. 
Result: One very pissed off baby who kicked the ice pack until removed.

Attempt 2: Lay on all fours swaying gently to encourage movement.
Result: Pretty sure it put baby to sleep. Relaxing for us both.

Attempt 3: Sitting up with an ice pack on top of my belly and heating pad below my baby.
Result: Lots of turning...

Attempt 4: Hanging off the couch and/or bed upside down.
Result: A headache.

Attempt 5: Placing music below my baby.
Result: Dancing? Moshing? Confirmation the baby can hear and most like does not appreciate my affinity for pop music.

Attempt 6: Visualizing baby turning, followed by verbal coaching prompts.
Result: I usually fell asleep.

Attempt 7: Rubbing my belly in a clockwise motion, pushing whatever baby body part I encountered down. 
Result: Lots of turning...

By the end of the week and the dawn of my next appointment, I thought for sure this little one would be ready for exit stage down.

The Anticipation Builds.

As the new year dawned, the signs of winter and labor flurried around me like a snowflake in the wind. The temperatures dropped and so did my belly. The houses creaked with frozen gusts and so did my bones. The weight of this small being sank deep into my hips, leaving me with achey pains and an inability to keep my knees together. I found myself holding my belly as I waddled the halls at work, worrying my coworkers on the daily. So, needless to say, when the nurse found little one head down at 35 weeks, no one was surprised. 

That same week, I collected my essentials for the hospital and took an "Oh shit! My water broke!" bag to work. I carefully began to plan for my leave, looking forward to the big day. 

At my 36 week appointment, I waited anxiously for the doctor's analysis of effacement and dilation. When she announced that neither had occurred, I nearly kicked her in the face! "In fact," she said, "I don't even feel a head. Maybe some fingers or toes. This kid is breech." 

BREECH! 

The word itself filled me with fear. With every ounce of composure left within me, I asked what this meant. The doctor calmly explained that there was nothing to worry about until at least 38 weeks. She hesitated to discuss the details, but briefly mentioned the three possible outcomes: 

Door #1: baby turn before labor/delivery 

Door #2: perform a version procedure to manually turn the baby 

Door #3: perform a scheduled c-section 

Somehow, I didn't totally freak out. I was able to tell Ryan and my mom with no tears. It wasn't until I learned Costco's ice cream machine was broken (preventing me from securing the very berry sundae I have been craving all day) that I lost it. Full-on ugly cry. 

Speaking of ugly crying....baby calls. To be continued...

Belly Bump: Visiual Chronicle

 Decemeber 2014: Christmas Bump

 January 2015: Basketball or Baby? 

January 2015: Nice hair...and bump. 

 January 2015: Surprise Baby Shower at Work! 

 February 3, 2015: Version Attempt (pre-Pain Party)

Tossing Christmas Cookies

Twas the week before Christmas
And my belly was big
The baby grew and wiggled within

When on one cold night
I awoke to  a grumble
My stomach churned and bubbled with trouble

To the bathroom I flew
With hopes of relief
I tossed my Christmas cookies with no jubilee 

I repeated this game
A time or five
Praising the porcelain goddess with each tummy surprise

No comfort in vomit
Made only worse
By a living being fueling this curse

When morning breaks
The clinics open
The nurses scurry in fear of Ebola

No trips to Africa
No mysterious germs
It's but the cursed flu causing this hullabaloo!

A few hours pass
And a two IV bags later
I've lost four pounds when it doesn't even matter

Safe at home
In my soft warm bed
The virus made me exclaim as it came to an end:

Fuck you Flu. And The Flu Shot too. 

Belly Bump: Visiual Chronical

 August 2014: Celebrating Big Sister's Birthday. (Mama look good!)

 October 2014: Nice socks. 

 October 2014: Portraits by Bella. 

 October 2014: Did I swallow a pumpkin?

 October 2014: Trick-or-Treat. (Me seeth a double chin!)

 November 2014: Unfortunate angle. 

 November 2014: Belly Comparison Portrait by Bella

November 2014: Thankful and Festive.

The Big Sister

Keeping the joy of an expectant baby is nearly impossible, especially when you have a child inquiring, on the daily, about the status of her baby. You can just imagine our excitement in finally sharing the news with her. Her smile says it all.

First Glimpse.

A lot happens between deciding to have a child and actually having a child. A lot of NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!

One way or another, we found out we were expecting in the summer of 2014. In July, we had our first glimpse of our precious little one. A fluttering little bean.

I find it impossible to describe the emotions of that first picture. There is love and excitement. Trepidation and anxiety. Nausea and crabbiness. Ah! To be reminded of joys of pregnancy!

And Then It Happend.

Writing a blog in retrospect allows for an interesting opportunity for reflection. What moments in your life brought here, to this very second, reading the most profound bit of autobiographical material ever produced? As you know, this moment is a result of countless other moments that met, danced and married to produce your present. It is nearly impossible to narrow the scope, to a single second, that will allow to mourn or celebrate today.

As is such when I look back and think: how did this amazing life as a family of four come to be?

1. Miss Boo was three and some months when she noted the a distinct difference between her and her peers. Each one of her peers had a sibling. Better yet, the majority were the BIG sibling. And what did little miss realize about big siblings? Supreme control of another human life. Her natural assertive nature allowed her to conclude that there was no better way to practice leadership skills than by being a big sister. Thus began her requests...nay demands. For she did not ask IF she could have a baby brother or sister but WHEN. This was moment number one.

2. Several months later, on a way home from a delightful date with my husband, we chattered about how hilarious our daughter had become. I mean, she was single-highhandedly plotting our lives with her grandeur plans of baby brothers and sisters. That is when Hubby said that he too was OK with another little one. WHHAAA WHHHAAA WHHHAAATTTT? News flash: I was the only one not thinking about another baby. This was moment number two.

3. There we sat waiting for the bus to take our over-partied bodies back to the hotel after a fabulous wedding and reception. The four of us reflecting on how lucky we are to have husbands that get along (cue husbands attempting to procure more alcohol); how lucky we are to have forged these friendships almost ten years ago; and how lucky we are that despite ten years, we are still as close as the day we met. It was then, that each one announced her intention to have a baby in the next year. Everyone but me (are you noting a trend here?). My only intention was to somehow find a snack. To me, I already had the world's most perfect child. It was my friends who needed to catch up to me! Right? This was moment number three.

4. It was a couples trip to Vegas in the fall. For me, just a vacation. For my closest friends, one last hurrah before baby-making-business began in full force. We ate and drank like queens. We played penny slots like money grew on trees. And of course, we shopped like Kate Middleton at TopShop (quite literally, we shopped at TopShop with a private stylist). It was then,  as we all huddled in one busy changing room trying on any amazing design we could grab, that she said it. "I don't know why I am buying new clothes...I'm pregnant!" Oh the amazing, overwhelming joy! OK...now I am thinking about babies. This was moment number four.

Time continued and more moments continued to flash by. Like a toy house built of Legos, each moment was a unique brick that secured itself on the next brick until the house is so large it cannot be ignored. That's when you start on the roof, the final piece of the puzzle. 

And then it happened. After devouring the world's best "Hy-Chi" (I love HyVee), that I received this fortune. And there was my roof. The final brick. The final moment. I was ready for another baby, this ever so pleasant surprise.

I. Am. Back.

Yes, I am back by popular demand. And by popular demand I mean, two individual requests to regenerate this blog. Never one to disappoint, I considered it a challenge! And no better time to begin a challenge then when you have an abundant amount of time.

Time? Surprised that I would have an excess of the precious commodity? Well, yes, it is in fact true. Time is mine. I own you devious clock! Well, it is mine for the next seven weeks as I enjoy MATERNITY LEAVE. Yeah, that's right. I had another baby (more on that later). Such news must come as quite a shock as the highlight of my expansive blogging career pulled material from describing the horrors of pregnancy and childbirth. This must leave you to think:

1. She is crazier than her blog lets on.

2. She exaggerated the horrors or pregnancy.

3. Time really does make you forget childbirth.

I can assure you none of the aforementioned are true! I am not crazy...at least, not clinically. My first experience with pregnancy was every bit a traumatic as I described. And I shall never forget childbirth. Never.

But, here I am cradling a little bubba and admiring my life in all it's perfection. So, to honor the challenge to entertain my two loyal followers and to honor my second experience of motherhood, I will blog...at least for the next seven weeks.

More to come.