Attempting to bring a 5th living baby to our family was a hard-fought decision. My husband was content with 4, and certain he did not want to endure another pregnancy adventure again. I had not prepared to be done, and always hoped he would eventually come around to my way of thinking, and be willing to accept all the children we could be blessed with. We thought we had matured quite a bit in our marriage by now, but we quickly learned that the size of our family was still our most polarized issue. This time, we decided to come to the table together, to discuss it and try to resolve it once and for all. Surely we could negotiate a compromise. My husband explained to me how the emotional havoc of each pregnancy was more than he could handle. I explained to him that the joys of each new life overshadowed the trials we endured to get them here. I was such an optimist and a planner, that I stored away all the baby items to be used by the next child. I had already been storing away items that Jersey #4 outgrew. My heart already loved our next child, and I was not sure I could handle halting my dream so abruptly like that. I concluded that I understood and respected his position, but if he required that we have no more children, I was certain I would harbor much resentment towards him. We also discussed my dream to adopt children into our family. He was much more open to that idea, since it would not require a pregnancy on my part (and remains an open topic for our future). In the end, he agreed to support 1 more pregnancy, provided that I agreed that the 5th was the last. I was excited to be able to have another baby. He was relieved to know the end was in sight. We referred to this as our grand finale baby!
The first trimester of pregnancy with Jersey #5 was a breeze by comparison to my other pregnancies. I did not have morning sickness. I was very tired. I napped regularly with my toddlers. The first ultrasound at 11 weeks showed a healthy baby. I joked with Dr. S that I was planning to have one of those “normal” pregnancies that I hear other people talk about.
Unfortunately, stress entered the scene all too soon. First came a series of external stresses. My husband had a terrible time with some major job stress, which included a horrible coworker to face each day, and the financial instability of the company to threaten his job security. He was grumpy all the time, and focused on himself. Then, Jersey #2 and Jersey #4 both came down with the flu. Sick children can be quite exhausting to manage, and it did not help that we were really terrified that Jersey #2 might not have the heart health to handle such an illness. She fought the flu for over a month, and gave us a couple good scares in there. Thankfully, she eventually prevailed and regained her health over time. My Mom surprised us with a visit with the intention of helping us take care of Jersey #2, restore order in our household, find some rest ourselves, and free up my husband, so he could focus on his job. My husband threw himself into his work like a crazy man. I did not take the rest I needed, and instead continued to wear myself out with errands and activities. My Mom wore herself out with the workload of all the piled up chores at our house, in addition to care of 4 children. Stress mounted. Tempers flared. I listened to my Mom’s negativity all day, and my husband’s negativity all night….until I could not take it anymore. And then I snapped. I got into an epic argument with my Mom, that was halted only by the sensation of a gush of blood! Not again!
I called my husband home from work to take me to the hospital so that we could see what we were dealing with this time. He calmly responded, “ I was thinking it was about time for something like this again.” Sure enough, I was 14 weeks along. Time for a bleeding scare, we supposed. As we sat in the waiting room, I proceeded to vent to my husband about the awful argument with my Mom. He sat there next to me, pretending to listen to me, but reading an electronic article on his Palm Pilot instead.
Thankfully, the doctor’s assessment revealed that the baby was still alive and well in the womb, and my cervix was still closed. Unfortunately, the cause of bleeding could not be determined. The ultrasound department was booked, so they sent me home (after another RhoGam shot) with an ultrasound appointment for the following week. They encouraged me to rest as much as I could, as they were most worried about how much I was bleeding.
My Mom decided to go home and let me rest, thinking her presence was adding too much stress. I was torn between the relief of her going, and the desire to beg her to stay and help me. I was an emotional wreck. I was so scared, we might be losing the baby, and I was so weak physically from the stress, strain, and blood loss. I was also still angry about some of the things she said to me during our argument. I was embarrassed about the way I had behaved. And, I was hurt and furious with my husband, and all his negativity, selfishness, and lack of support for any of my emotional or pregnancy-related needs. That was too much emotional stress to even think straight. I went to bed to try to sleep it off. I rested in bed through the weekend. My husband took care of the kids and watched movies with them in the living room. He avoided me as much as possible. I felt very alone.
The ultrasound appointment revealed that indeed something was bleeding in the womb, but it was not real clear what it was. Placenta previa was ruled out, because the placenta was not over the cervix. My husband responded with “Oh great! We go from having rare problems to having unexplainable problems!” The ultrasound also revealed that the baby was alive, healthy, and a BOY! The plan was to keep resting, monitor the bleeding, and follow up with additional ultrasounds to try to identify the source of the problem.
We went through the motions of our life, with a heightened level of stress underlying everything. I needed the comfort of a friend. My husband needed something on his long list of stresses to give—to go away and stop plaguing him. I resented him for not supporting me like a friend. He resented me for even putting him through another stressful pregnancy in the first place. I accused him of not caring about me. He blamed me for everything he did not like about his life. Our relationship as we knew it, blew up in our face. We spent the remainder of the pregnancy barely speaking to each other…and certainly never speaking kindly. He worked extra days and longer hours. I set up a routine of life with me and the kids that seldom included him.
It took a lot of prayer to help me grow through the trials I was buried in. Our church family offered me a lot of support and encouragement. I prayed for God to work a miracle in the womb, and in our marriage. I did not appreciate the stress in my life, but I certainly knew where to turn to find peace.
I had an ultrasound appointment every 3-4 weeks for the entire 2nd trimester. Each ultrasound revealed a new suggestion as to what could be causing the bleed, or what to call the bleed. My body continued to bleed for over 2 months. Thankfully, Jersey #5 was able to continue to grow and thrive in the womb. Praise the Lord for His protection! The bleeding finally stopped toward the end of the 5th month of pregnancy, halting just as abruptly as it began. Early in the 3rd trimester, the perinatologist concluded that a piece of the placenta had broken away from the wall of the uterus (placental abruption). That is what was causing the bleeding. Thankfully, instead of continuing to pull the placenta away from the wall (which would have threatened the life of the baby and me, both), the abrupted part eventually broke off entirely from the placenta. It remained as a blood clot inside the womb, and Jersey #5 played with it for a while, as if it were a toy for him! Over time, that blood clot dissolved, and went away by the last month of pregnancy. Praise the Lord!
Delivery was the next challenge. If the placenta had continued to have problems, a C-section would have been encouraged. Since it appeared to be mended, my delivery options were open. A repeat Cesarean delivery, versus a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) is a heavily debated topic in the childbirth world. I met with the surgeon to discuss my options, seeking what was the safest way to deliver Jersey #5. The surgeon was a big fan of VBAC, especially in women who have successfully delivered vaginally before. He explained the risks of both options, and informed me that I was a great candidate for either option. From a medical perspective, he could not advise me to choose one method over the other, based on the statistics. I was hoping he would give me an easier conclusion than that. I was expecting him to nudge me in the direction of his preference, so he really surprised me when he told me that I should trust my intuition, and he would respect whichever decision I made. He said that he could quote the risk statistics to me all day, but since they were all at or below 1%....and he knew I represent that 1%.....those statistics would not do any good in my case. Rare things happen to me, so the statistics are just not helpful.
We brainstormed a healthy “compromise” that I felt good about. We scheduled a repeat C-section for the date when I was a day past 39 weeks, so that we would not risk him being born earlier than his lungs were ready. Since Jersey #5 was head down and in a good position for birth, there was no concern if I happened into labor on my own. If I did go into labor before that scheduled surgery, then we would assess the speed and progression of my labor, to see if a VBAC would work out. It covered all the bases for me. I would not go overdue (and risk meconium issues, or the placenta breaking down from age). I would not be induced (because induction is harder on the uterine muscles and could potentially aid in rupture of the old scar). Jersey #5 would not be rushed out of the womb too early, for the sake of avoiding labor. And, if nature ran its course and labor came easily, I could confidently allow it to run its course. If nature did not run its course, then Jersey #5 would be brought into the world via surgical delivery, and I would enjoy getting the planning and scheduling that comes with it. It was a win-win situation! I spent the remainder of the pregnancy praying that God’s will be done in this situation, and praying that I would be blessed with a healthy, living baby boy. I did not want to try to take matters in my own hands. I knew who was in control!
And that was when I had to start drinking from the saucer….because my cup runneth over! Blessings were poured out all over me those last few weeks of pregnancy. My husband decided he had had enough stress from his unstable job, so he started to seek a new one. He was offered a great job, in his field of interest, with a local company that was of good size and stable. They offered him a competitive salary that met our needs, along with good health insurance, and the perk of an education benefit for my husband to return to school for a higher degree. As his other stresses began to decrease, he also began to realize that pushing me away was not in his best interest. He started speaking kinder and acting nicer towards me. He started to take a greater interest in his family. We worked together to get things organized and prepared for our new addition. My Mom arrived a couple days before the surgery date, to take care of the kids during the delivery. We were able to enjoy some time to visit, my husband was able to process out of one job and into the other….and still have two weeks off to be home to help. We installed a brand new infant car seat (because our other one had expired!) I packed up a bag for the hospital, and we attempted to get a good night’s rest.
The only time that I seem to go into labor early and on my own is when I schedule a c-section delivery! Sure enough, my water broke at 4am, the morning I was scheduled to report to the hospital by 7am. I took my time getting showered and dressed, waiting to see if things would progress. Nope. It was PROM (premature rupture of membranes) again, and there were no contractions. Dr. S recommended I just go to the hospital early and see how things were progressing. So we did. Oddly enough, the bag of waters had broken, but my cervix was not even acting like it was ready for delivery. (I do not know how that is possible.) The surgeon happened to be on the floor when I arrived, so he assessed me and said that he really didn’t have any new recommendation beyond what he recommended a month ago. My situation was not any different, as far as he could tell, since my body was not actually in labor. I was not going to go for an induction to move things along, since that would bring risk. So, we opted for the c-section. Since I arrived early that morning, the night nurses got me prepped early, and I was the first surgical patient of the day! It was nice to go through the surgical delivery in the morning, when I was rested and awake. The anesthesiologist gave me a bit of concern when she attempted to draw blood and ended up butchering my arm veins. She must have seen the worry on my face, because she assured me that she would be much better at placing the epidural needle in my back. Yikes! It was true…she was fantastic at placing the epidural needle. She turned out to be a really good anesthesiologist. She told me to tell her if I began to feel queasy, but somehow she always knew I was getting queasy and was already fixing it, even before my mind was considering the idea. I remember thinking “Oh, I think I am getting queasy"....then I would see her out of the corner of my eye, inject something into my IV…and instantly I would change my mind, “Nope, it’s gone.” The surgeon was the same surgeon who had delivered Jersey #4, and he admired his handiwork and complimented the quality of my healing from that first cesarean. Jersey #5 must have been up high, because there were points when I was feeling pressure as if they were digging around in my ribs to find him! And then, he was born! Jersey #5 came out so healthy and alive! He cried to let us know he could, then he immediately settled down and checked out the new environment. He was content with his Daddy holding him, next to me, while the surgeon finished closing everything up.
The first trimester of pregnancy with Jersey #5 was a breeze by comparison to my other pregnancies. I did not have morning sickness. I was very tired. I napped regularly with my toddlers. The first ultrasound at 11 weeks showed a healthy baby. I joked with Dr. S that I was planning to have one of those “normal” pregnancies that I hear other people talk about.
Unfortunately, stress entered the scene all too soon. First came a series of external stresses. My husband had a terrible time with some major job stress, which included a horrible coworker to face each day, and the financial instability of the company to threaten his job security. He was grumpy all the time, and focused on himself. Then, Jersey #2 and Jersey #4 both came down with the flu. Sick children can be quite exhausting to manage, and it did not help that we were really terrified that Jersey #2 might not have the heart health to handle such an illness. She fought the flu for over a month, and gave us a couple good scares in there. Thankfully, she eventually prevailed and regained her health over time. My Mom surprised us with a visit with the intention of helping us take care of Jersey #2, restore order in our household, find some rest ourselves, and free up my husband, so he could focus on his job. My husband threw himself into his work like a crazy man. I did not take the rest I needed, and instead continued to wear myself out with errands and activities. My Mom wore herself out with the workload of all the piled up chores at our house, in addition to care of 4 children. Stress mounted. Tempers flared. I listened to my Mom’s negativity all day, and my husband’s negativity all night….until I could not take it anymore. And then I snapped. I got into an epic argument with my Mom, that was halted only by the sensation of a gush of blood! Not again!
I called my husband home from work to take me to the hospital so that we could see what we were dealing with this time. He calmly responded, “ I was thinking it was about time for something like this again.” Sure enough, I was 14 weeks along. Time for a bleeding scare, we supposed. As we sat in the waiting room, I proceeded to vent to my husband about the awful argument with my Mom. He sat there next to me, pretending to listen to me, but reading an electronic article on his Palm Pilot instead.
Thankfully, the doctor’s assessment revealed that the baby was still alive and well in the womb, and my cervix was still closed. Unfortunately, the cause of bleeding could not be determined. The ultrasound department was booked, so they sent me home (after another RhoGam shot) with an ultrasound appointment for the following week. They encouraged me to rest as much as I could, as they were most worried about how much I was bleeding.
My Mom decided to go home and let me rest, thinking her presence was adding too much stress. I was torn between the relief of her going, and the desire to beg her to stay and help me. I was an emotional wreck. I was so scared, we might be losing the baby, and I was so weak physically from the stress, strain, and blood loss. I was also still angry about some of the things she said to me during our argument. I was embarrassed about the way I had behaved. And, I was hurt and furious with my husband, and all his negativity, selfishness, and lack of support for any of my emotional or pregnancy-related needs. That was too much emotional stress to even think straight. I went to bed to try to sleep it off. I rested in bed through the weekend. My husband took care of the kids and watched movies with them in the living room. He avoided me as much as possible. I felt very alone.
The ultrasound appointment revealed that indeed something was bleeding in the womb, but it was not real clear what it was. Placenta previa was ruled out, because the placenta was not over the cervix. My husband responded with “Oh great! We go from having rare problems to having unexplainable problems!” The ultrasound also revealed that the baby was alive, healthy, and a BOY! The plan was to keep resting, monitor the bleeding, and follow up with additional ultrasounds to try to identify the source of the problem.
We went through the motions of our life, with a heightened level of stress underlying everything. I needed the comfort of a friend. My husband needed something on his long list of stresses to give—to go away and stop plaguing him. I resented him for not supporting me like a friend. He resented me for even putting him through another stressful pregnancy in the first place. I accused him of not caring about me. He blamed me for everything he did not like about his life. Our relationship as we knew it, blew up in our face. We spent the remainder of the pregnancy barely speaking to each other…and certainly never speaking kindly. He worked extra days and longer hours. I set up a routine of life with me and the kids that seldom included him.
It took a lot of prayer to help me grow through the trials I was buried in. Our church family offered me a lot of support and encouragement. I prayed for God to work a miracle in the womb, and in our marriage. I did not appreciate the stress in my life, but I certainly knew where to turn to find peace.
I had an ultrasound appointment every 3-4 weeks for the entire 2nd trimester. Each ultrasound revealed a new suggestion as to what could be causing the bleed, or what to call the bleed. My body continued to bleed for over 2 months. Thankfully, Jersey #5 was able to continue to grow and thrive in the womb. Praise the Lord for His protection! The bleeding finally stopped toward the end of the 5th month of pregnancy, halting just as abruptly as it began. Early in the 3rd trimester, the perinatologist concluded that a piece of the placenta had broken away from the wall of the uterus (placental abruption). That is what was causing the bleeding. Thankfully, instead of continuing to pull the placenta away from the wall (which would have threatened the life of the baby and me, both), the abrupted part eventually broke off entirely from the placenta. It remained as a blood clot inside the womb, and Jersey #5 played with it for a while, as if it were a toy for him! Over time, that blood clot dissolved, and went away by the last month of pregnancy. Praise the Lord!
Delivery was the next challenge. If the placenta had continued to have problems, a C-section would have been encouraged. Since it appeared to be mended, my delivery options were open. A repeat Cesarean delivery, versus a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) is a heavily debated topic in the childbirth world. I met with the surgeon to discuss my options, seeking what was the safest way to deliver Jersey #5. The surgeon was a big fan of VBAC, especially in women who have successfully delivered vaginally before. He explained the risks of both options, and informed me that I was a great candidate for either option. From a medical perspective, he could not advise me to choose one method over the other, based on the statistics. I was hoping he would give me an easier conclusion than that. I was expecting him to nudge me in the direction of his preference, so he really surprised me when he told me that I should trust my intuition, and he would respect whichever decision I made. He said that he could quote the risk statistics to me all day, but since they were all at or below 1%....and he knew I represent that 1%.....those statistics would not do any good in my case. Rare things happen to me, so the statistics are just not helpful.
We brainstormed a healthy “compromise” that I felt good about. We scheduled a repeat C-section for the date when I was a day past 39 weeks, so that we would not risk him being born earlier than his lungs were ready. Since Jersey #5 was head down and in a good position for birth, there was no concern if I happened into labor on my own. If I did go into labor before that scheduled surgery, then we would assess the speed and progression of my labor, to see if a VBAC would work out. It covered all the bases for me. I would not go overdue (and risk meconium issues, or the placenta breaking down from age). I would not be induced (because induction is harder on the uterine muscles and could potentially aid in rupture of the old scar). Jersey #5 would not be rushed out of the womb too early, for the sake of avoiding labor. And, if nature ran its course and labor came easily, I could confidently allow it to run its course. If nature did not run its course, then Jersey #5 would be brought into the world via surgical delivery, and I would enjoy getting the planning and scheduling that comes with it. It was a win-win situation! I spent the remainder of the pregnancy praying that God’s will be done in this situation, and praying that I would be blessed with a healthy, living baby boy. I did not want to try to take matters in my own hands. I knew who was in control!
And that was when I had to start drinking from the saucer….because my cup runneth over! Blessings were poured out all over me those last few weeks of pregnancy. My husband decided he had had enough stress from his unstable job, so he started to seek a new one. He was offered a great job, in his field of interest, with a local company that was of good size and stable. They offered him a competitive salary that met our needs, along with good health insurance, and the perk of an education benefit for my husband to return to school for a higher degree. As his other stresses began to decrease, he also began to realize that pushing me away was not in his best interest. He started speaking kinder and acting nicer towards me. He started to take a greater interest in his family. We worked together to get things organized and prepared for our new addition. My Mom arrived a couple days before the surgery date, to take care of the kids during the delivery. We were able to enjoy some time to visit, my husband was able to process out of one job and into the other….and still have two weeks off to be home to help. We installed a brand new infant car seat (because our other one had expired!) I packed up a bag for the hospital, and we attempted to get a good night’s rest.
The only time that I seem to go into labor early and on my own is when I schedule a c-section delivery! Sure enough, my water broke at 4am, the morning I was scheduled to report to the hospital by 7am. I took my time getting showered and dressed, waiting to see if things would progress. Nope. It was PROM (premature rupture of membranes) again, and there were no contractions. Dr. S recommended I just go to the hospital early and see how things were progressing. So we did. Oddly enough, the bag of waters had broken, but my cervix was not even acting like it was ready for delivery. (I do not know how that is possible.) The surgeon happened to be on the floor when I arrived, so he assessed me and said that he really didn’t have any new recommendation beyond what he recommended a month ago. My situation was not any different, as far as he could tell, since my body was not actually in labor. I was not going to go for an induction to move things along, since that would bring risk. So, we opted for the c-section. Since I arrived early that morning, the night nurses got me prepped early, and I was the first surgical patient of the day! It was nice to go through the surgical delivery in the morning, when I was rested and awake. The anesthesiologist gave me a bit of concern when she attempted to draw blood and ended up butchering my arm veins. She must have seen the worry on my face, because she assured me that she would be much better at placing the epidural needle in my back. Yikes! It was true…she was fantastic at placing the epidural needle. She turned out to be a really good anesthesiologist. She told me to tell her if I began to feel queasy, but somehow she always knew I was getting queasy and was already fixing it, even before my mind was considering the idea. I remember thinking “Oh, I think I am getting queasy"....then I would see her out of the corner of my eye, inject something into my IV…and instantly I would change my mind, “Nope, it’s gone.” The surgeon was the same surgeon who had delivered Jersey #4, and he admired his handiwork and complimented the quality of my healing from that first cesarean. Jersey #5 must have been up high, because there were points when I was feeling pressure as if they were digging around in my ribs to find him! And then, he was born! Jersey #5 came out so healthy and alive! He cried to let us know he could, then he immediately settled down and checked out the new environment. He was content with his Daddy holding him, next to me, while the surgeon finished closing everything up.
He was able to nurse when I was moved to recovery, and then he settled right to sleep on my chest.
The recovery room nurses were so happy with us and kind to us. They zipped me through recovery because I was doing so well, and they moved me to my room in time for lunch…..taking me to the nicest room in the new wing of the hospital. It was a corner room with an amazing outdoor view! With our grand finale baby, we were going out in style!
No comments:
Post a Comment