Happy Thanksgiving

This will be the last post from this blog - I'll be starting a new one to share our adventures together as a family, but the adventure in pregnancy officially ended last week.

Abigail Marie Weygandt was born on Saturday, November 20, 2010 at 4.21 am in Denver, Colorado at Saint Joseph's Hospital.  She weighed 7 pounds, 13.9 ounces and was 20 inches long.  She is the most precious thing ever and I had no idea how much love would ooze from me instantly for this little girl.  Abbey was born exactly one week late, but as it turns out, she's as sentimental as her Mommy because Abbey was born on the seven year anniversary of the day that Scott and I first met.  Turns out, she was just waiting for a special occasion to make her grand entrance.

I went into early labor four days earlier.  Abbey was actually born a week late, and I was so done.  So ready.  Pregnancy was great and all, but it was definitely time.  We monitored my contractions diligently, but nothing ever really seemed to regulate, although every day the sensations would grow more intense.  Finally, Thursday night, the labor grew to be too much to deal with and we went in to see the doctor for the second time that week and check on my progress.  I thought that my water may have broken, but it was so difficult to tell for sure because (and I'm sorry if this is gross, but, we're talking about giving birth here, so you'll have to deal), there was a lot of other "stuff" going on "down there" and telling one fluid from another was tricky.  But still, my contractions weren't regular.  We had been told over and over again about the 5-1-1 rule - the contractions needed to be 5 minutes apart and one minute long for one hour.  I never reached that.  Not even close.  But after an exam with the doctor we learned that my water "may" have broken, but I was dilated 5 cm and it was time to go to the hospital.

And off we went.  This was around noon on a Friday. 

The doctor had called ahead to let the hospital know we were on our way.  They were ready for us and marveled that I was so happy and smiley for a woman dilated to 5 cm.  I guess they're used to having things thrown at them at that point.  So, one after another nurses and doctors came to talk with us.  Everyone thought that things were likely to move really quickly, so my epidural was ordered right away.  By 2pm, I was feeling no pain, happily numb, telling jokes, and having a grand old time.  The resident OB thought we'd probably deliver sometime between 5 and 7.  We were like, "Awesome!  We can get a good night's rest, it will happen quickly!  How exciting!"

How wrong.

My damn contractions still wouldn't regulate.  Another exam showed that my water had definitely broken, so it was time to get a move on.  They called in the pitocin - a drug to make my contractions stronger and more regular - and honestly, a drug I had hoped to avoid.  But it worked.  For a while.  Within a few hours, I was dilated to 9 cm.  It was almost showtime.

But that's when it stopped.  I couldn't get past that last cm.  They gave me more pitocin, and then things started to get scary.  Suddenly, a team of doctors rushed into our room, flipped me to my other side and started talking in serious tones to one another.  The baby's heart rate was dropping rapidly.  The baby could not tolerate anymore pitocin.  I could also only lay on my right side or else her heart rate would drop.  Fortunately, it was the side facing the television, so at least I had that going for me.

So, we scaled back.  And I labored on.  And on.  And after 3 hours, still no progress.  What's worse was I was beginning to feel the pain of my contractions again - despite the epidural.  Since I had to remain on my right side, gravity was working against me and the drugs weren't reaching my left side.  While half of me was happily content, the other half was not feeling so pleasant.  It sort of defeated the purpose of an epidural and I was becoming very uncomfortable.  So, a new doc was called in, and she had an idea.  We did a saline flush into my uterus to give the baby a little extra cushion since my water was broken.  The baby liked that.  I could move to my other side.  Then, we turned up the pitocin again.  I labored on and eventually felt the urge to push. 

20 minutes in and things started to go downhill.  My epidural was becoming ineffective and I was feeling a lot of pain.  A lot.  Like, seriously, my epidural pretty much wore off completely - I could feel everything.  I mean EVERYTHING.  I wasn't making much of any progress, and the baby was beginning to feel the stress.  Then, the first of the bad news came - and this is gross - but there was meconium in the fluid that they used to flush me.  Abbey took her first poop inside me.  And we didn't know when, and the risk, of course, is that she could have breathed it into her lungs.  And that's bad.  Like way bad.  Plus, I was now running a fever, which meant I had an infection, and that the baby could then have an infection.  Either way, the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) was put on alert and were anxiously awaiting us. 

After an hour of pushing with no pain relief, I was sobbing, exhausted and terrified.  They called in the anesthesiologist to administer some pain meds to give me a break to rest.  The lights turned off and we tried to sleep for an hour.  At around 3am, a team of doctors woke us, examined me, and recommended a C-Section.  I agreed without hesitation.  I was immediately prepped and Scott was given scrubs and we looked at eachother with worry and a lot of love and took a very brave step.

The surgery went well for me, although a C-Section is a major, major surgery.  Seriously.  They move your intestines and stuff.  I know it's performed often, but it's a pretty serious procedure.  Thank God Scott mustered up the courage to be with me and hold my hand through it all because it was the only thing that kept me together.  It didn't take long before we heard our daughter's first scream - a very, very loud scream - and we both melted.

Then there was another turn.  I couldn't see anything, but from what I've heard, a team of doctors quickly surrounded Abbey.  Something was wrong.  She wasn't breathing right.  She was quickly intubated and whisked away to the NICU.  Scott left my side to be with her - the tough part for me was over.  They were closing me up.  The anesthesiologist - a great guy named Adam - kept his hand on my head and reassured me that I was going to be fine and that Abbey was in the best of care.  It turns out that during that first scream Abbey had blown a gasket in her lungs - a small vessel popped and they had to insert a "fan" of sorts to help her breathe.  Soon, I was being wheeled into recovery and Scott came to tell me the good news.  The breathing tube had been removed, and they started an IV line to get her glucose up and administer some antibiotics, but the meconium wasn't an issue and she was doing great, all things considered.  Two hours later, they wheeled me past the NICU to see her and hold her and nurse her for the first time.  She would spend the next two days there with Scott and I visiting her every couple of hours.

Abbey's progress was rapid and she was released to room in with us at the hospital a night early.  It was wonderful to finally have our daughter with us - to spend quality time with her and for us all to get to know one another.  A day and a half later, we were headed home together. 

And now a new journey begins. 

I certainly have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.  I am thankful for my husband, who is not only the world's best husband, but also the world's best father.  He is so nurturing, caring, funny, supportive and all around the best partner in parenting that I could ask for.  I am in total awe of him.  Never would I have thought it possible to  love him more than I did before Abbey came into our lives, but I swear, the love I have for Scott tripled that day, and continues to grow every hour.  I am thankful to have a happy, healthy, beautiful baby girl.  She is such a delight.  There is nothing in this world that I would not do for her.  I am thankful to have a supportive family and friends.  And last, but certainly not least, I am thankful that today - for the first time in months - I not only can see my ankles, but was also able to enjoy the sweet taste of champagne in celebration of all of our gratitude.  I am also thankful for pain killers because, seriously, C-Sections suck ass.  20 staples.  Ouch. 

Thanks, everyone, for joining me on my adventures through pregnancy.  I've really enjoyed sharing the ups and downs, and I hope that you've enjoyed hearing about them.  The journey will continue, so stay tuned for my next addition into the blogosphere. 

Signing off for now,

Abbey's Mom.