We've been home for a couple days to wait things out...one doctor with one test said my water broke partially, hence the Pitocin drip. The next day, after hours of trying to be induced, painful contractions, and no progress, another doctor did another test and conveyed that it was "safe" and ok to go home. Now, does that mean my water did not break? Broke partially? I'm not convinced it was ever broken. I was going to go the hospital before I felt any leaking anyways, bc my contractions were close together and strong. We ended up paying a lot of money to stay bc they assumed it was broken based on what someone else told them. We asked over and over for a test, which they only agreed to days later. Your pop was not pleased, but your heavenly Father has enough money for all these shannanagins. I had mild contractions Friday, then Saturday morning, then nothing. We did meet a sweet and precious lady who stayed in our room with us, though, (the chocolate lady) who was 12 DAYS OVERDUE. We got to talk about Gods love and about why Christians pray, and we've been texting back and forth since we left. She wrote me Late last night to tell me her little boy FINALLY made his way into the world. It was a special thing to be on the receiving end of such sweet and personal news. I'm trying to focus on that friendship having resulted from the hospital stay, and not on all the unpredictability and misunderstanding that wracked my nerves and raised my blood pressure.
Your heart rate dropped Thursday night around 3 am, and they did some extra monitoring the rest of the night. You seemed ok other than somewhat fluctuating btwn chill and wired. You still haven't dropped. I don't think you're interested in meeting everyone yet.
Tuesday is your expected arrival date, based on what they told me last about how the placenta is looking...of this I feel equally unconvinced, because I get such a variety of reads depending on which doctor is examining us. I guess we'll see in our ultrasound when Tuesday comes around.
And in more wonderful news, your papa left a few hours ago to receive your grandparents at the Hong kong airport. Your nanny has requested that you wait until she gets here. Maybe you're just honoring her request.
Love you bird. Ready when you are. Mama.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
A birthing story. To be continued.
Hey little girl.
Well. You're gonna be born in China. Possibly tonight, but who is to say. Apparently not the gynecologist, or any of the four nurses that we've seen
Tonight.
Monday I had a 36 wk check up, where I was told an ultrasound would be unnecessary. I insisted, because I know what our risks are despite the doctors reluctance to look at neither me nor at our medical record. In the ultrasound they found that the placenta is a bit too mature again, and as a result you would need to come
Out by next week. Plans were made for us to check in to the hospital the following week.
Yesterday, the day after our appointment, started out normal, but by 2:30 pm I was contracting and dilating in an unmistakable way. The pain began in my lower back. Intense and sharp. Difficult to breathe through. They persisted at 15 minute intervals, lasting 30 seconds to a minute at a time. This continued through the night.
Around 3 am the contractions wrapped themselves around my abdomen, like particularly awful menstrual cramps, and sped up to 10 minutes apart. Around 7 am I fell asleep somehow, and woke around 8:30 mid contraction. That was my last one of the daytime hours.
I spent the rest of today walking, squatting, pacing. Taking hot baths. Anything to get the labor-ing on the move again. Your dad and I went to dinner with some friends, where I frequently excused myself to pace outside, breathing through fresh back labor pains.
After dinner our friend took some maternity pictures of us 3. Someday when I show you them ill tell you this is what I looked like when I was in labor with you. Annoyed at your good natured and fun loving daddy, and grimacing through the pain.
We piled into a taxi, called the school driver, dashed into our apartment to grab our hospital bags, all the while timing my contractions. It was around this time that I thought I noticed some leaking.
We were picked up by our bosses, and headed to the hospital. The ride there was pure anxiety. I couldn't breathe, My blood sugar was plummeting, and everyone was asking me if i was having a contraction every time I breathed in sharply. It's a lot of pressure for someone who doesn't know what's about to happen, who will be able to translate when we get there, and if indeed they are in labor. All I knew was it HURT.
We got to the hospital, realized we had forgotten all our money, and we're ushered in to a less than sterile room where a Cantonese woman with plastic gloves pried my legs open and shoved her fingers inside me mercilessly, lecturing me in Chinese. Everyone around us discussed her findings without telling me what was going on, and around this time your daddy was being cornered into signing a paper saying he understands he will not be permitted in the room with me when you are born.
Someone had translated over the phone to the doctor that my water had broken, which I was not confident of. I tried to explain that I wasn't sure, but that was never translated. The gynecologist looked like she was 18 and was constantly giggling and playing on her iPhone, taking pictures of herself and ichatting with someone. She told me I would need a cesarian Birth bc my pelvis is different from an Asian woman's. They needed a sample of my urine, and insisted I pee into a skinny vial while sitting on the bed, which was lined with one of those pads u use to train puppies where to pee. I refused and walked to the restroom, which was the MOST GHASTLY smelling, disgusting place I have been yet- the smell of just being in there still lingers, hours later.
They moved me from this empty room to one ten feet away with another woman watching Chinese soaps at midnight and coughing up a lung. The "biohazard" bins were open and spilling over. I kept asking your daddy if we could please just go home. My contractions had all but stopped, and the nurses said I had not begun to dilate. One said my cervix was soft, and one said it was not (lots of merciless checking going on) and they concluded from these two opinions that I had a "50 % chance" of delivering tonight. I want them to explain how they know my water has broken, but they have given me no such explanation. Now we are In a room with 8 others, laying on wooden beds. Somehow your pops is passed out beside me without any pillows, and there is a man sitting right outside the open doored maternity ward chain smoking and tossing his cigarettes on the hospital floor.
We managed to both run out of minutes at the same bad time tonight, and I can't help but think of my religions class
Two years ago, and the belief in "omens"...
How did I get here?
Have been having contractions again, these much more localized in my abdomen, 7 minutes apart. I hope they persist. I hope you come tonight.
Last nights 2 am contractions came to nothing. I am trying to request that a nurse or doctor do what they have been calling a "paper test" to see if my water has indeed broken, but no one will give me the time of day. I am supposed to move downstairs this morning, but I don't know when, the only nurse I could communicate with has left for her morning shift in VIP. She knew less than I did about what is going to happen with me today. She just kept saying I must stay, and I must not walk around, bc my water has broken. "But how do they know it has broken?" "Firstly, because you told us so." "But I didn't." "We can test this." "Have they? Will they?" "Not so clear." Awesome.
The precious and sweet thing is that there is another pregnant woman in the room who speaks English, and this morning when i called the nurse repeatedly and got nowhere she spoke up from her cot and said,"hello, what can i do for you?" and offered me
her chocolates.
A few minutes ago five nurses crowded around me to touch my belly and to marvel at my insulin pump.
I am not convinced My water has broken, but I will admit that I hope it did. I want labor to be imminent. I am in a lot of pain.
Got of the phone (bc it died and we forgot our charger in the mayhem!) after a soothing comforting encouraging talk with my mom in law. Can't wait til she gets here. Talked about how I am not in chinas hands, at the Mercy of The decisions i cant Make Sense of. I'm in Jesus'. Capable Jesus who has purposes your life and mine, and given us a little miracle and a piece of grace in you.
1:45 pm. We're in the delivery area about to be induced. They said David can't come with me. I cried entering the room and who did I find for company but my English speaking chocolate baring friend. She said his will be a special experience and not to be afraid, we can talk. She added minutes to my phone online. I'm feeling comforted and unbelievably loved by my Lord and Savior.
Well. You're gonna be born in China. Possibly tonight, but who is to say. Apparently not the gynecologist, or any of the four nurses that we've seen
Tonight.
Monday I had a 36 wk check up, where I was told an ultrasound would be unnecessary. I insisted, because I know what our risks are despite the doctors reluctance to look at neither me nor at our medical record. In the ultrasound they found that the placenta is a bit too mature again, and as a result you would need to come
Out by next week. Plans were made for us to check in to the hospital the following week.
Yesterday, the day after our appointment, started out normal, but by 2:30 pm I was contracting and dilating in an unmistakable way. The pain began in my lower back. Intense and sharp. Difficult to breathe through. They persisted at 15 minute intervals, lasting 30 seconds to a minute at a time. This continued through the night.
Around 3 am the contractions wrapped themselves around my abdomen, like particularly awful menstrual cramps, and sped up to 10 minutes apart. Around 7 am I fell asleep somehow, and woke around 8:30 mid contraction. That was my last one of the daytime hours.
I spent the rest of today walking, squatting, pacing. Taking hot baths. Anything to get the labor-ing on the move again. Your dad and I went to dinner with some friends, where I frequently excused myself to pace outside, breathing through fresh back labor pains.
After dinner our friend took some maternity pictures of us 3. Someday when I show you them ill tell you this is what I looked like when I was in labor with you. Annoyed at your good natured and fun loving daddy, and grimacing through the pain.
We piled into a taxi, called the school driver, dashed into our apartment to grab our hospital bags, all the while timing my contractions. It was around this time that I thought I noticed some leaking.
We were picked up by our bosses, and headed to the hospital. The ride there was pure anxiety. I couldn't breathe, My blood sugar was plummeting, and everyone was asking me if i was having a contraction every time I breathed in sharply. It's a lot of pressure for someone who doesn't know what's about to happen, who will be able to translate when we get there, and if indeed they are in labor. All I knew was it HURT.
We got to the hospital, realized we had forgotten all our money, and we're ushered in to a less than sterile room where a Cantonese woman with plastic gloves pried my legs open and shoved her fingers inside me mercilessly, lecturing me in Chinese. Everyone around us discussed her findings without telling me what was going on, and around this time your daddy was being cornered into signing a paper saying he understands he will not be permitted in the room with me when you are born.
Someone had translated over the phone to the doctor that my water had broken, which I was not confident of. I tried to explain that I wasn't sure, but that was never translated. The gynecologist looked like she was 18 and was constantly giggling and playing on her iPhone, taking pictures of herself and ichatting with someone. She told me I would need a cesarian Birth bc my pelvis is different from an Asian woman's. They needed a sample of my urine, and insisted I pee into a skinny vial while sitting on the bed, which was lined with one of those pads u use to train puppies where to pee. I refused and walked to the restroom, which was the MOST GHASTLY smelling, disgusting place I have been yet- the smell of just being in there still lingers, hours later.
They moved me from this empty room to one ten feet away with another woman watching Chinese soaps at midnight and coughing up a lung. The "biohazard" bins were open and spilling over. I kept asking your daddy if we could please just go home. My contractions had all but stopped, and the nurses said I had not begun to dilate. One said my cervix was soft, and one said it was not (lots of merciless checking going on) and they concluded from these two opinions that I had a "50 % chance" of delivering tonight. I want them to explain how they know my water has broken, but they have given me no such explanation. Now we are In a room with 8 others, laying on wooden beds. Somehow your pops is passed out beside me without any pillows, and there is a man sitting right outside the open doored maternity ward chain smoking and tossing his cigarettes on the hospital floor.
We managed to both run out of minutes at the same bad time tonight, and I can't help but think of my religions class
Two years ago, and the belief in "omens"...
How did I get here?
Have been having contractions again, these much more localized in my abdomen, 7 minutes apart. I hope they persist. I hope you come tonight.
Last nights 2 am contractions came to nothing. I am trying to request that a nurse or doctor do what they have been calling a "paper test" to see if my water has indeed broken, but no one will give me the time of day. I am supposed to move downstairs this morning, but I don't know when, the only nurse I could communicate with has left for her morning shift in VIP. She knew less than I did about what is going to happen with me today. She just kept saying I must stay, and I must not walk around, bc my water has broken. "But how do they know it has broken?" "Firstly, because you told us so." "But I didn't." "We can test this." "Have they? Will they?" "Not so clear." Awesome.
The precious and sweet thing is that there is another pregnant woman in the room who speaks English, and this morning when i called the nurse repeatedly and got nowhere she spoke up from her cot and said,"hello, what can i do for you?" and offered me
her chocolates.
A few minutes ago five nurses crowded around me to touch my belly and to marvel at my insulin pump.
I am not convinced My water has broken, but I will admit that I hope it did. I want labor to be imminent. I am in a lot of pain.
Got of the phone (bc it died and we forgot our charger in the mayhem!) after a soothing comforting encouraging talk with my mom in law. Can't wait til she gets here. Talked about how I am not in chinas hands, at the Mercy of The decisions i cant Make Sense of. I'm in Jesus'. Capable Jesus who has purposes your life and mine, and given us a little miracle and a piece of grace in you.
1:45 pm. We're in the delivery area about to be induced. They said David can't come with me. I cried entering the room and who did I find for company but my English speaking chocolate baring friend. She said his will be a special experience and not to be afraid, we can talk. She added minutes to my phone online. I'm feeling comforted and unbelievably loved by my Lord and Savior.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
35 weeks
Wow! I have really neglected writing on here....mostly because our Internet at home has not been reliable to say the least, and lugging a laptop and a
Baby belly to Starbucks is just.not.appealing. Typing on this lil iPhone is tedious, but I guess I've been needing to get with the century for a while now anyways.
My goodness honey girl!!!! There are so many things to say about you. You are so CLOSE to me, inside me, near my heart. And yet. You are still SUCH a complete mystery to us. Here is what I know about you so far:
You don't appreciate it when my blood sugar is low, and you have no trouble letting me know it.
You love music, particularly The Civil Wars, Gungor, The Decemberists, and a host of other folksy sounds. You're a girl after your daddy's Virginia mountains, Americana heart.
I've never felt or seen you move so much as you do when I've got the Mumford and Sons station playing on my belly.
You like your daddy's voice but shy away from his touch. Like most babies you stop moving the moment we
Draw attention to the fact.
Now that it looks like we can have a natural delivery, I've been reading up like crazy. Nothing I read dispels the terror. As horrifying as it ALL sounds and as much as I wish there was an alternative way to get you into the world with us, I am feeling more ready each day. The crowding in the ribs
might have something to do with it.
You know, I hear a lot of women complain about the discomfort
of the kicking. I keep waiting for it to become that way for us, but even when I feel a twinge of pain from your movements, I still just think its the sweetest thing. When other things ail me, I get grumpy, but it's never really had to do with you. I wish you would move more than you already do. I just really like you a lot. It keeps occurring to me that one day you will be a grown person walking around, making decisions. Pretty incredible but I wont fast forward.
We've had little time to prepare a room for you, what with all the moving and medical expenses over the course of the pregnancy, but I hear ya don't need much. We bought you a crib his week, and I think you'll be crashing with mom and dad in our room for the first few weeks. I've got food for your lil baby belly, and lots and lots of (free!) diapers for your lil baby booty. We have a few outfits for your first months. Other than that I think we'll manage as we go.
(who is this zen lady talking to you? You know as well as I do that your pop is the relaxed one.)
Ok well. Thats the update. You're lookin great in there. You've done a top notch job of developing. Could t be prouder :) See you in a couple weeks! (a wk and a half from now and you will have my full permission to make your debut.)
Xo pat pat pat snuggle snuggle
Baby belly to Starbucks is just.not.appealing. Typing on this lil iPhone is tedious, but I guess I've been needing to get with the century for a while now anyways.
My goodness honey girl!!!! There are so many things to say about you. You are so CLOSE to me, inside me, near my heart. And yet. You are still SUCH a complete mystery to us. Here is what I know about you so far:
You don't appreciate it when my blood sugar is low, and you have no trouble letting me know it.
You love music, particularly The Civil Wars, Gungor, The Decemberists, and a host of other folksy sounds. You're a girl after your daddy's Virginia mountains, Americana heart.
I've never felt or seen you move so much as you do when I've got the Mumford and Sons station playing on my belly.
You like your daddy's voice but shy away from his touch. Like most babies you stop moving the moment we
Draw attention to the fact.
Now that it looks like we can have a natural delivery, I've been reading up like crazy. Nothing I read dispels the terror. As horrifying as it ALL sounds and as much as I wish there was an alternative way to get you into the world with us, I am feeling more ready each day. The crowding in the ribs
might have something to do with it.
You know, I hear a lot of women complain about the discomfort
of the kicking. I keep waiting for it to become that way for us, but even when I feel a twinge of pain from your movements, I still just think its the sweetest thing. When other things ail me, I get grumpy, but it's never really had to do with you. I wish you would move more than you already do. I just really like you a lot. It keeps occurring to me that one day you will be a grown person walking around, making decisions. Pretty incredible but I wont fast forward.
We've had little time to prepare a room for you, what with all the moving and medical expenses over the course of the pregnancy, but I hear ya don't need much. We bought you a crib his week, and I think you'll be crashing with mom and dad in our room for the first few weeks. I've got food for your lil baby belly, and lots and lots of (free!) diapers for your lil baby booty. We have a few outfits for your first months. Other than that I think we'll manage as we go.
(who is this zen lady talking to you? You know as well as I do that your pop is the relaxed one.)
Ok well. Thats the update. You're lookin great in there. You've done a top notch job of developing. Could t be prouder :) See you in a couple weeks! (a wk and a half from now and you will have my full permission to make your debut.)
Xo pat pat pat snuggle snuggle
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Battling the Blues
What do you do when the pit is past eye level. Every day my spirit grows more restless. There is so much time to fill now, and not enough to fill it with. My body is growing while my heart tosses and turns. I ache for home.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
movin right along!!
You are kicking and turning up a STORM, and I could NOT be more relieved. You really had me going there with your two day nap. (I'm sure you weren't asleep that whole time. What were you doing?) I've gotten used to feeling you wiggle regularly and I did NOT care for your absence. Lecture lecture finger shake. I even went to the doctor to eavesdrop on your heart beat. They were all hey man, chill out. You don't need to worry so much. Only they said it in Chinese, so through translation it was something like, "Everything alright with baby." And the doctor told me to take my shoes off and I almost cried. (Hello.Evil.Hormones.) I wish I had my own ultrasound shannanigins at home so I could peek in on you any time I wanted or felt worried or wanted to know exactly what is jabbing me in the rib. What will it be like when you get here? I'll work on chilling out, man.
I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!! Wowza. I sure stinking do.
Ps we gotchya a place to live. High five, parents! (Really, it was Jesus. He loves you more than even me. What! We'll talk.)
xo,
thecrazyladyobsessedwithyourkickcounts.
I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!! Wowza. I sure stinking do.
Ps we gotchya a place to live. High five, parents! (Really, it was Jesus. He loves you more than even me. What! We'll talk.)
xo,
thecrazyladyobsessedwithyourkickcounts.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Hello, third trimester.
Well, there was about a week and a half there where I was exercising at the gym again regularly. It didn't take long for restless nights, Dongguan humidity and seven hour days with preschoolers to wear me down. Now my days consist of a long walk waddle home from school, panting at the top of that hill, and finally making it to the apartment where I strip off my sweaty clothes and wrestle myself into the least waist-hindering clothing I own to settle into a deep dark nap coma. Later I will peruse Pinterest, see images of pretty baby nurseries and girls in skinny jeans, get depressed and begin my search for a fruity cereal.
Sigh.
We're going to get your daddy's blood tested this weekend to find out if he is negative like me- there's a sliver of a chance he is, but we'll take it. If he's not, we'll have to go to Hong Kong or Macau or somewhere else out of our pay grade to get some shot called Rhogam. I guess it keeps me from making antibodies against you. We really want to avoid anything anti where it concerns you. We are all pro you around here.
We looked at an apartment last week that I decided I could make work since it seemed to be our only option. Having the entire summer to get it ready was promising, (since I will now be grounded to China til you come. No flying for us after all!) and I was starting to feel a bit optimistic about our living prospects when this move became unavailable to us as well. Along with every.single.good.apartment.we have seen/heard about.
Disheartened. That is the word. We're coming up with another plan, and I spent the weekend crying like seven month pregnant mommies will do, over all this atop feelings of inadequacy and fear of the future and exhaustion from the burden I didn't know I was carrying, and now I feel a bit better. Still lacking resolution, still lacking a plan, but, better than mascara running down my face and those weeping-hangovers the next two days. I don't know what we are going to do. I don't know what this summer will be for me now. Ha. I don't even have a "but I do know..." to add to that. I really don't know anything! OH. Here is one. I know I will be napping A LOT. ;) And I suppose I know that I will make this frustrating-for-a-new-family apartment work. It's not SO bad. Its squishy and small, but so are you. Maybe I need to learn GRATITUDE. Maybe I need to learn to train my heart in CONTENTMENT. And maybe I need to keep reminding myself that things won't always be this way.
I know that God wants to teach me something. SOMETHING. In all this wonderful chaos. I hope I am learnin whatever it is I'm supposed to be learning.
Sigh.
We're going to get your daddy's blood tested this weekend to find out if he is negative like me- there's a sliver of a chance he is, but we'll take it. If he's not, we'll have to go to Hong Kong or Macau or somewhere else out of our pay grade to get some shot called Rhogam. I guess it keeps me from making antibodies against you. We really want to avoid anything anti where it concerns you. We are all pro you around here.
We looked at an apartment last week that I decided I could make work since it seemed to be our only option. Having the entire summer to get it ready was promising, (since I will now be grounded to China til you come. No flying for us after all!) and I was starting to feel a bit optimistic about our living prospects when this move became unavailable to us as well. Along with every.single.good.apartment.we have seen/heard about.
Disheartened. That is the word. We're coming up with another plan, and I spent the weekend crying like seven month pregnant mommies will do, over all this atop feelings of inadequacy and fear of the future and exhaustion from the burden I didn't know I was carrying, and now I feel a bit better. Still lacking resolution, still lacking a plan, but, better than mascara running down my face and those weeping-hangovers the next two days. I don't know what we are going to do. I don't know what this summer will be for me now. Ha. I don't even have a "but I do know..." to add to that. I really don't know anything! OH. Here is one. I know I will be napping A LOT. ;) And I suppose I know that I will make this frustrating-for-a-new-family apartment work. It's not SO bad. Its squishy and small, but so are you. Maybe I need to learn GRATITUDE. Maybe I need to learn to train my heart in CONTENTMENT. And maybe I need to keep reminding myself that things won't always be this way.
 |
| gettin a watermelon belly |
 |
| our first Eisley purchase. You're tiny! |
Sunday, June 17, 2012
In my belly
I'm feelin like you keep the same schedule as I do. On top of that, you keep he schedule I would love to keep. You sleep all day, wake up for a few snacks, are hyper before bed, then sleep all night. In the morning you wake up wiggly and (I imagine) happy. Then you go back to sleep.
Your video ultrasound let us see you grabbing your lil feetsies. It kills me every time I watch it, and now when I feel you move I picture that is what you are doing, and I basically swoon for you all over again. All bias aside, you're the cutest thing I have EVER seen.
Your video ultrasound let us see you grabbing your lil feetsies. It kills me every time I watch it, and now when I feel you move I picture that is what you are doing, and I basically swoon for you all over again. All bias aside, you're the cutest thing I have EVER seen.
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