4 months

Ryder at 4 months old:
    -12 lbs, 7.5 oz. (5th % for weight)
    -24 in. (10th % for height)
    -Ginormous head... 53 %


Ryder had his 4 month check-up yesterday.  As you can see from the stats above, he is still a tiny little peanut.  But here is what is important: Dr. Friedman is pleased with his weight gain and happy with his growth and development (both physically and developmentally).  I really do think he'll eventually catch up in the height and weight categories (and hopefully he'll grow into his large head too...). 

Dear Ryder Dylan,

     You are such a joy these days.  Sometime around March 17, 2012 you turned into a little chatterbox.  It may sound weird that I'm citing an exact date, since these types of developmental milestones don't typically happen over night, but with you it did happen overnight.  Grandi arrived for a visit on the evening of Friday, March 16th.  She didn't get to our house until you were already asleep, so she had to wait until the next day to see you.  It was that next day that you started showing off your new favorite pass-time... talking.  You jibber-jabber, squak, and coo ALL.THE.TIME. now.  It's really freaking cute.  You were a pretty quiet dude prior to Grandi's visit, but perhaps you just weren't ready to share your "stories" with anyone until Grandi came for a visit.  She stayed for a glorious week, during which time she took over the night shifts and let your mama get some much-needed sleep, and you yak-yak-yakked the entire time.  Whenever you are in a good mood, you talk to us.  Daddy and I love it.
     I'm ready for you to start laughing/chuckling/giggling.  The baby books say that some babies start laughing at around 3 months, but Dr. Friedman reassured me at your check-up yesterday that some babies don't laugh until they are closer to 6 months old.  Maybe you are just a very serious baby, but I don't think so.  With a dad like Blake, there is no way you didn't inherit a silly side and a love of laughter.  Maybe we just aren't being funny enough, though I don't think that's the case since I've seen Grandi and Auntie Sammie sing and dance for you (if that ain't funny, nothing is!).  All in due time I guess.  For now, I'll just have to be satisfied with your generous display of smiles. 
     You still HATE tummy time.  I don't think you've ever lasted more than 1 minute on your tummy.  When we try to place you on your belly, your face turns red and you immediately begin to fuss.  Within 20 seconds to a minute, your fussing turns into a pissed off cry.  Because I've gone back to work and don't get to spend nearly as much time with you as I'd like, I don't have the heart to force you to do something that makes you so mad.  Thus, I've been a bad mommy and rarely ever instigate "tummy time."  Your head is still a little bit wobbly (tummy time is supposed to improve neck strength), but you get stronger and stronger every day.  Jill ("JuJu") and Cynthia, who watch you on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays after school, have been working on "sit-ups" with you.  They lay you on your back and pull you into a sitting position by your arms.  Instead of letting your neck/head droop backwards, you are now getting really good at lifting your head up with your body as they pull you.  Point being, your neck strength is improving despite your lack of tummy time.
     You still aren't anywhere close to rolling over yet, but again, Dr. Friedman reassured me that lots of babies haven't started rolling by 4 months old.  Plus, we know that your milestones are still a bit delayed because of your early arrival into this world.  But hey- you can't use that excuse for forever!  Don't come to us with a "C" on an exam in 7th grade and say "but hey, I was a month early so I'm just a little delayed."  But I know you'll never receive a "C" on any tests anyway... you'll always make straight A's, just like your mama did! 
     You are starting to grab at toys (rather than just staring at them in awe).  I'm excited for you to start holding toys on your own, so that mommy and daddy don't have to continuously dangle them in your face.  Your favorite "toy" right now is your lovey.  You absolutely love to grab it with both hands and rub it on your face.  Actually, come to think of it, loving on your lovey is probably your second favorite activity right now.  There is nothing you love more than watching television.  You are such a t.v. junkie!  You'll sit in your bouncy seat and watch t.v. for quite a while.  We have difficulty drawing your attention away from the screen even when we try.  We often put the baby channel on for you so that you can enjoy shows that are geared toward babies, but you are perfectly content to watch grown-up shows as well.  If we lay you on our laps and try to play with you while a t.v. is on in the room, you'll crane your neck and wiggle around until you have the screen in view.  If the t.v. is off, you are much more aware of your surroundings.  You'll sit in your bouncy seat and follow mommy and daddy around the room with your eyes as we clean and fix dinner.  You are definitely exploring your surroundings these days.
     Oh, and even though you don't roll yet, it doesn't mean you aren't on the move.  On several occasions in the past few weeks, when I've come to your crib in the morning, you've been myseriously turned in the opposite direction from how we layed you the night before.  In other words, you've somehow done a "180" in your crib at night.  Here is photo evidence:

After the first time I found you like this, I had to take out the blanket and burp cloth that you see at the top of the crib.  We originally placed them there to protect the sheets from your spit-up (so we wouldn't have to change your sheets as often), but once I realized you were becoming mobile, I knew it wasn't safe to have anything extra in your bed with you.  Despite your night time acrobatics, you have just started sleeping through the night (as mentioned in a prior post). I know we may still have some rough nights in store, but I'm thankful to have some uninterrupted nights of sleep.
     As a side-note, I hope you don't inherit your daddy's distaste for reading.  If you do, then you'll probably never read this blog, which would be sad since it's intended to serve as your baby book.  But more importantly, I will NOT read your school books for you and then tell you what they're about so that you don't have to read them yourself.  Grandi may have done this for daddy when he was a kid... but mommy does not approve!  Hopefully you'll inherit mommy's love of reading and this entire paragraph will be moot. 
     Lastly, I cannot close this letter without thanking you for finally ditching the whole colic bit.  You made your first three months of life very trying for mommy and daddy.  We loved you just as much then as we do now, but we sure do appreciate your new and improved happy-go-lucky nature.  You still have pretty wild screaming fits when you are overtired and about to pass out, but for the most part, you are now a happy, smiley, talkative baby.  We love you to the moon and back!

Sleeping Through The Night

Today Ryder is one day shy of 4 months old.  Last night he slept through the night for the very first time.  Yipee!  My excitement cannot be overstated. 

I must clarify.  At around 12 weeks old, Ryder started consistently sleeping from about 7:30 p.m. to 3 or 4 a.m.  Technically, I think this was considered "sleeping through the night" (i.e. I think doctors and the baby books would classify it as such).  I get that it was an 8+ hour stretch of sleep, which is awesome, but in my book- it ain't "sleeping through the night" until the baby is waking up at a normal hour.  It's not normal (or even tolerable) to wake up for the day at 4:00 a.m., so I never considered that Ryder was sleeping through the night despite his long stretches. 

[Side note:  When Ryder woke up once per night at 3 or 4 a.m., I would feed him and he'd go back down in his crib until 6 or 7 a.m.]

Last night I fed Ryder at 8:45 p.m. (which is a little on the late side for us).  He thrashed around and fussed a bit until around 9:30 p.m. (but never cried), and then he was finally out like a light.  I didn't hear a peep from him until 6:00 a.m.  When my alarm went off at 5:55 a.m. and I realized that Ryder never woke me up during the night, I jumped out of bed (literally) and grabbed his video monitor.  It was only after I confirmed that his chest was still rising and falling at normal intervals that I allowed the excitement to set in.  My child slept through the night.  Finally. 

I have no delusions about what this means.  Ryder may not sleep through the night again for another week or even a month from now.  But he is capable.  For now, I'll keep my fingers crossed tightly and pray, pray, pray that this is a new trend and not a fluke.

RSV

On Friday, March 9, 2012, Ryder came down with a cough.  He seemed to be deteriorating pretty quickly over the course of that day.  I was concerned enough to take him to the doctor the following morning.  He was diagnosed with RSV, which stands for Respiratory Syncytial Virus.  Almost all kids come down with RSV at least once before they reach the age of two, so it's very common.  In toddlers, older children and adults, RSV typically presents itself as a common cold.  In other words, older kids and adults aren't even aware that they have RSV versus any other type of common cold.  However, RSV can be quite dangerous for younger babies, even fatal in some rare instances.  It's not uncommon for infants who contract RSV to wind up in the hospital.  At the same time, plenty of babies handle RSV just fine and don't require any major medical intervention. 

Because of Ryder's history and his small size, I was immediately nervous.  I had been to the ER with Ryder before, and the experience was beyond traumatizing.  The mere thought of returning there gave me heart palpitations and the sweats. 

Although Ryder was sick for a week and his congestion lingered for a good three weeks.  He fought the RSV like a champ.  His primary symptoms where a cough, deep chest congestion and wheezing.  He ran a low-grade fever for like 24 hours but that was it.  The pediatrician sent us home with a nebulizer and we had to give Ryder breathing treatments every few hours for a week straight. 

Luckily (or unluckily, depending upon how you look at it), Ryder was sick during Playhouse Academy's spring break.  This was lucky because I already had childcare lined up for Ryder since his school was closed.  Had he gotten sick when Playhouse was in session, I would have had to miss an entire week of work or desperately search for last minute child care.  I personally only ended up missing one full day of work (I wanted to stay home to be with Ryder on his sickest day), but my mom, Aunt Lisa and Jill ("JuJu") helped me with the remainder of the week.

Here is a picture of Ryder during a breathing treatment:

I did take Ryder back to the pediatrician to be re-checked on two separate occasions since it seemed like his symptoms were lingering, but apparently RSV symptoms tend to linger and the doctor felt Ryder was on a good road to recovery.

I know this is a boring blog post, but I figured Ryder's first cold was worthy of documentation.

Ryder's birth announcement

I find it too depressing that two out of three of my latest blog entries are doom-and-gloom personal rants, so I decided to hurry and post something sweet, precious and smile-inducing... Ryder's birth announcement:

The Truth About Maternity Leave

Now I know why they call it maternity "leave" rather than maternity "vacation."  I'm sure that many men have misconceptions about maternity leave, imagining that women sit around eating bon-bons and watching tv while their newborn naps for most of the day.  I think that many childless women also have misconceptions.  I know that I did.

Now don't get me wrong... I knew that a newborn was going to be really hard work and a huge adjustment.  But what I didn't now was that I might have a baby that DOES NOT NAP. AT ALL. EVER.  Let me correct that last statement.  I didn't know that I might have a fussy, colicky, chronically unhappy baby that DOES NOT NAP. 

[Side note: I'm writing this post a few days before Ryder's four month birthday, and it is important for me to clarify that he is now a happy, fun baby (that still hardly naps, but that's besides the point)]

Ryder's temperament for the first three months of his life most likely had a lot to do with his prematurity.  Because he was a little early, his little body wasn't quite mature enough for the outside world.  He was (and still is, to some degree) super gassy, which is often the case with colicky babies.

So, anyway- there I was with the most precious gift in the world that I loved more than life itself, and I was miserable during 99% of my 12 week leave.  Ryder wasn't happy unless he was being held.  Even then, he spent a good amount of time fussing in my arms.  And again... I didn't know there was such a thing as a newborn that doesn't sleep during the day.  The books and doctors will tell you that newborns often sleep 18+ hours a day.  So one would assume that even a difficult baby would sleep 12+ hours.  Nope.  Not Ryder.

Ryder's one saving grace was that he would sleep at night (thank god).  He was up every 3 hours to eat at night for a while, but that's pretty standard newborn stuff.  Inbetween his night feedings he would sleep like a good little baby.

During the day, I couldn't have possibly felt more helpless.  Many times I would sit in my bed with Ryder in my arms and pillows shoved beneath my elbow so my arms wouldn't break off for HOURS.  If Ryder fell asleep, I wouldn't want to budge since his naps were few and far between, so I'd sit there like a captive for long periods of time.  I'd get hungry but couldn't move, so I didn't eat.  I'd feel restless and my arm would fall asleep, but I wouldn't dare reposition myself.  Sounds pretty awful, huh?  And when Ryder cried... oh god, my stomach would turn and my anxiety would sky rocket.  He was so difficult to sooth!  And every mom knows how hard it is to listen to their baby cry.  It made my heart melt (and not in a good way).  But there was nothing I could do!  His diaper was clean, he had a full tummy, he had been given gas drops, he was warm and cozy but still he cried. 

I tried the swing, the bouncy seat, and the "Mamaroo."  No go.  Ryder wouldn't have any of it.  He only wanted to be held.  When you have a baby, everyone tells you to sleep when your baby sleeps (i.e. take naps during the day when your baby naps).  So what was I supposed to do? 

I must say that my mom was a huge help during my maternity leave.  She would come over and watch Ryder so that I could take naps.  Those days were heaven.  My mom would also take walks with me and Ryder several times a week.  The walks were great because Ryder slept when being pushed in the stroller.  So I could feel good about my baby getting some rest while also feel good that I was slowly burning away some of my pregnancy weight.

The most hellish part of my maternity leave was the first 9 weeks or so.  It actually got better after that because I finally had an epiphany.  Ryder would sleep peacefully in his moving stroller, so I realized it was best to keep him on the move.  I'd take him on a long walk every day and then I'd try to run some errands and/or go out to lunch.  Mommy and baby were both happier because mommy wasn't having to listen to baby cry and baby was getting some much needed sleep.  I wish I had started to get out more earlier on, but it was kind of counterintuitive in a way.  I felt like I needed to be at home with my colicky baby rather than out in public.  But it would have been better for both of us if I would have taken him out more in the beginning.  Don't get me wrong- I wouldn't have taken him out for the first 3 or 4 weeks no matter what because he was too tiny and vulnerable. 

Ryder's delays also made things hard.  Most babies start smiling at around 6 weeks.  Because of Ryder's prematurity, all of his milestones are expected to be a little behind the "norm" for a while.  Sure enough, Ryder didn't start smiling until around 9 weeks.  Baby smiles are like crack: totally addictive.  When your baby smiles at you, life is good.  But I had to wait longer to see that first smile. 

Let me end this post on a positive note:  At around 12 weeks (right around the time I had to go back to work. Go figure), Ryder started transforming.  He started smiling all the time and became much, MUCH less fussy.  He enjoyed his playmat and even let us put him in his swing and bouncy seat for short intervals of time.  Now, at almost 17 week, Ryder is a joy.  He has normal baby meltdowns of course, but he is so much fun.  He is cooing and playing and growing like crazy. 

I've loved that kid since before he was born.  I loved him every day of my maternity leave hell.  But the truth needs to be told.  Some babies are difficult beyond the normal baby challenges.  I have (had) one of those babies.  I'm sad that I didn't get to enjoy more of my leave.  Even though newborns are universally challenging, lots of mamas have sleepy babies that nap a lot and smile early.  Maternity leave is probably a different experience for them.  For me, it was the hardest 12 weeks of my life.  Yet, I wouldn't trade Ryder for anything.  He is precious and perfect. 

Surely God will grace Blake and I with one of those "easy" babies the next time around.  Right?  RIGHT!?!?!

Oh, and I apologize for bursting any bubbles out there.  I could have made my blog all about puppies and rainbows, but that wouldn't be the truth.  But I do promise that this entire blog isn't going to turn into one big bitch fest.  After my breast feeding blog entry and this one, some of you are probably ready to desert my blog for fear of becoming depressed.  Sorry!

I'll leave you with a picture from when Ryder was 3 months old (right around the time of his transition into the angel that he is today):

Sorry kiddos- "The Little Engine That Could" is a crock of sh!t

I also thought about titling this blog entry "My Breastfeeding Woes," but the title I chose is much catchier.

I'm going to do my best not to belabor my breastfeeding journey by rambling on and on and on in "woe is me" fashion. But the truth is: I'm still bitter, disappointed and depressed that I couldn't breastfeed.  I'm simply not "over it."

I told my doctor and nurses in advance of Ryder's birth that I wanted to do skin-to-skin time immediately upon his entrance into the world.  In other words, I wanted them to place Ryder on my bare chest as soon as possible after he made his exit from the womb.  Immediate skin-on-skin time is supposed to aid in your breastfeeding efforts.  I got my skin-on-skin time and it was lovely.  I had also read (during my fairly exhaustive breastfeeding research) that you should allow your baby to try to nurse within an hour of birth.  No problem- I did this too. 

Once I was moved into my postpartum room, I found out that my overnight nurse used to be a full-time lactation consultant.  Whoopee- extra help!!  While at the hospital, I did all the "right things" to try to help my milk come in and encourage Ryder to nurse.  Those first few days are hard for everyone, so I really didn't think much of it. 

I had Ryder on Monday night and was released from the hospital on Wednesday.  My milk still was not in.  No big deal... it can take 2-5 days for a woman's milk to start flowing and it's typically a slower process when it's your first baby.  Ryder was 5 pounds, 13 ounces at birth and he was 5 pounds, 4 ounces when he left the hospital.  I spent my first couple of days at home, pumping like crazy and trying to let Ryder latch and nurse.  By Friday morning, I was still only getting drops of colostrum (no milk) and I was starting to worry about Ryder.  He wasn't really latching, and he wasn't having very many wet diapers. 

We took him to his scheduled newborn pediatrician visit that same day.  He weighed in at 4 pounds, 13 ounces.  Dr. Friedman (Ryder's pediatrician) thought he looked just a tad dehydrated and voiced initial concerns about his weight loss.  He briefly mentioned that I might need to start supplementing if my milk didn't come in pronto.

Boy can things unravel quickly.  Within a few hours of Ryder's pedi appointment, I started feeling anxious and I knew something wasn't right.  Ryder wasn't latching at all, and he seemed lethargic.  It was after-hours by that point, so I called the on-call nurse line.  They suggested that I immediately begin to supplement with formula.  As much as I wanted to breastfeed, I had NO PROBLEM with the idea of supplementing.  If someone had told me to do it earlier, I would have done it earlier.  But no one seemed to think there was a problem until the problem was staring us right in the face.  We had formula on hand, so I made a bottle for Ryder.  He wouldn't eat.  He did not seem interested in the bottle whatsoever.  His coloring was bad, his lips were chapped and peely and he was very lethargic.  I called the nurse line again, and they suggested that I try pedialyte.  The nurse said that if he wouldn't take the pedialyte, I should take him to the hospital.  At this point, my mom convinced me to call Dr. Friedman's cell phone even though it was after 9:00p.m.  I voiced my concerns to Dr. Friedman and he told us to forget the Pedialyte idea and go right to Cooks Children's Hospital's emergency room.

Thus began a horrific nightmare of a journey that consisted of a week-long stay in the NICU, but I'll save most of those details for a later blog entry dedicated solely to Ryder's NICU experience.  For now, suffice it to say that it was hell on earth.

It was day 5 and there was still no milk.  I stayed in the NICU with Ryder nearly 24/7 and I pumped every 3 hours around the clock.  The nurses brought me a hospital-grade pump, which stayed in the room with me, and they were very supportive of my pumping efforts.  They were also supportive of my breastfeeding efforts.  They allowed me to attempt to breastfeed Ryder every 3 hours before they gave him his formula bottle by mouth and/or feeding tube, depending on the point in his NICU stay.  Understandably, they only let me attempt to breastfeed him for a few minutes at a time because they didn't want Ryder to burn too many calories by struggling with his latch and sucking. 

So this is what my week in the NICU looked like:  (1) try to breastfeed Ryder until he seemed frustrated or began to cry (usually 1-5 minutes); (2) help feed Ryder his bottle; (3) pump for 20+ minute intervals after feeding Ryder. 

Rinse. Repeat.  EVERY 3 HOURS.

Now, if other breastfeeding mamas are reading this, they may be thinking that this doesn't sound like anything out of the ordinary when you are breastfeeding a newborn.  Feeding and pumping every 3 hours isn't out of the ordinary.  However, I was doing this in the NICU with a super sick teeny tiny baby, while sleeping on a crappy pull-out couch and scared for my baby's life.  AND, I still wasn't making any freaking milk!  That's the kicker.  It may suck to breastfeed and pump every 3 hours.  But trust me, it REALLY sucks to "breastfeed" and pump every 3 hours and end up with NOTHING to show for it.

On day 6, I started making milk.  And by milk, I mean drops of milk.  I would pump both boobs for 20 minutes and get 1/4 of an ounce total.  If that quantity doesn't mean anything to you, you can just trust me when I tell you that it's practically nothing.  The Cooks lactation consultant wasn't working over the weekend, so I had to wait for Monday to see her.  By Monday, I was still in the same boat.  I was barely producing any milk despite my efforts.  By that point, I had begun taking copious amounts of Fenugreek, an over-the-counter supplement which is supposed to help increase milk production.

The lactation consultant did her very best to encourage me.  She helped Ryder work on his latch and encouraged me to keep pumping every 3 hours.  She told me all the things that I already knew from my breastfeeding research during pregnancy.

By the end of our week-long stay in the NICU, I was able to make about a half an ounce of milk per pumping session.  Whoopdee-freaking-doo.  Don't get me wrong- I felt good that I could supplement Ryder's formula with my breastmilk so that he was at least getting something.  But what was wrong with my body!?!?!  I was doing everything in my power to make this thing work and it simply wasn't working.  The only advice from the lactation consultants that I couldn't fully heed was to relax and sleep as much as possible.  It's impossible to sleep (or relax) when (a) you have to wake up every 3 hours to pump and (b) your baby is laying in an incubator with wires and tubes protruding from every inch of his body.  But I did the best I could and I followed all of the other breastfeeding/pumping advice that was given to me.

My sweet little boy graduated from the NICU after 7 nights.  It took him that long to start gaining weight.  He was admitted to the NICU at 4 pounds, 8 ounces and left the NICU back over 5 pounds.

Over the course of the next 6 weeks my breastfeeding efforts consisted of the following:

-hiring yet another lactation consultant (making a grand total of 3 lactation consultants) to come to my house and work with me and Ryder
-continuing to take maximum quantities of Fenugreek
-trying breast massage, hot showers, oatmeal, dark beer and "mother's milk tea" (all recommended as things that can sometimes help increase milk production)
-continuing to pump every 3 hours around the clock
-convincing my OB to put me on Reglan, which is a drug that is ordinarily used to treat reflux but has been found to increase milk prodution in some women
-convincing my OB to put me on domperidone (once it was obvious the Reglan wasn't working), which isn't even approved by the FDA for use in the U.S.  So I literally had to convince/beg her to write me a prescription to take to a compounding pharmacy.  She actually said "no" at first, but she ended up researching the drug some more and finally gave into my pathetic begging.
-blood work to test thyroid, testosterone levels and prolactin levels (these were the tests recommended by one of my lactation consultants to look for underlying conditions that could explain the milk supply issues).  Thyroid and testosterone were normal.  Prolactin levels were abnormally high.  WTF.  High prolactin issues + no milk production = just plain weird.
-Lots and lots and lots of crying



By the end of those six weeks, I had maxxed out at a grand total of between 1 and 1.5 ounces per pumping session.  This translated to feeding Ryder one or two breastmilk bottles (out of 8) per day.  Ryder still wasn't wanting to latch (can you blame him when I was barely able to provide him with any milk?). I was exhausted, emotionally drained and completely fed up with my defective body.  My loved ones and even my pediatrician had been gently encouraging me to quit for weeks, and I finally gave in.  I had exhausted all options and the truth was before me: my body would not produce milk. 

Not once during those 6 weeks did I feel engorged.  Not once during those 6 weeks did I ever feel my milk "let down."  Not once during those 6 weeks did I leak.  Nothing had gone as it was supposed to.

I'm still struggling to accept that I'll never know why I couldn't breastfeed Ryder.  There are two possible theories:
       (1) the combined trauma of going into labor early and having a baby that was admitted to the NICU traumatized my body and prevented milk production (it has been shown that high levels of stress can inhibit milk production); or
       (2) for some unknown reason, my body is physically incapable of producing milk

I won't know which theory is right until I have another baby and see whether I make milk for that baby.

Everyone told me that once I quit I'd be able to put it all behind me and enjoy Ryder more.  I certainly LOVED giving up the pumping marathons every 3 hours.  But I'm still waiting for that feeling of peace that everyone assured me I'd feel.  I don't know why it's so difficult for me to move on.  I know that formula is 100% a-okay.  I was a formula-fed baby and I turned out just fine.  I have no problem with feeding my baby formula.  I DO have a problem with inexplicable body failure.  I want to know why it didn't work out. 

It's only been 3 months so perhaps I just need more time.  Time heals all. 

So the moral of this story is that you can repeat "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can" until you are blue in the face.  But sometimes you just freaking can't.  I'm sorry to post such a depressing blog entry... but this has been cathartic.  And I want to remember my struggles in the future.  So even if no one made it past the half-way point of this sad, sad tale, I'm still glad I shared my story on this blog.  The end.

The Birth Story

So yeah, I was seriously shocked when my water broke (at approximately 10:45 p.m.).  I was only 36 weeks and 2 days pregnant.  Little Ryder was not even full term.  I only truly panicked (i.e. cried big fat crocodile tears) for about 1 minute.  Blake called my mom and I spoke to her for a brief second.  She helped calm me down. I just kept repeating "This is NOT happening.  I am NOT ready for this.  I can't believe this is happening," etc. etc. I did not have a hospital bag packed but I was able to bark orders at Blake in a surprisingly calm fashion.  It sounded something like this: "Blake- get yourself a pillow. Get the boppy.  Get the camera and the camcorder.  Get camera and phone chargers.  Get the cord blood kit.  Get the car seat (not yet installed!!!). Get yourself some granola bars.  Pack yourself some clothes.  Don't forget your medicines."  Meanwhile, I threw some of my own stuff in a bag and managed to get just about everything that I needed.  It's quite a miracle that we were able to assemble a mostly-complete hospital bag while in a semi-panicked state. 


Meanwhile, I was waddling around with a towel between my legs like a chicken with my head cut off.  I was annoyed because I had not showered or washed my hair that day.  So much for a cleanly start!  I called the on-call doctor to report that my water had broken.  The doctor didn't tell me anything that I didn't already know.  She instructed me to get my things together and head to Baylor.

On the way to the hospital, I sent a text message to my closest friends.  It was sent at 11:31p.m. and it read: "My water broke.  I'm petrified."  I knew that most, if not all, of them would not see the text until the next morning.

I arrived at the hospital at 11:45 p.m. on November 27, 2011.  When Blake dropped me off at the maternity ward (while he went to park), my parents were already there waiting by the registration desk.  I waddled to the security guard sitting at the desk and informed him that my water had broken (probably more information than he really needed).  He pointed me toward triage and off I went.

Triage was quiet and they quickly got me into a hospital gown, laying on an oversized puppy pad (due to continuous amniotic leakage... talk about degrading), and settled into a temporary triage room.  Within 15 minutes, a nurse arrived to do an initial cervical check.  She called me a "loose 1cm dilated and 90% effaced."  So essentially I hadn't made any progress since my last appointment with Dr. Bradford.

Thus began a waiting game to see what my body would do.  On the drive to the hospital I started to feel what I thought were contractions, but the feeling was super light and not painful.  Once I was in triage and hooked up to the monitors, we could see that I was indeed having contractions.  The contractions remained unpainful (merely a slight nuisance) until around 2:00 a.m.

Blake decided to drive my dad home (he had already taken an Ambien before I called home to report that my water broke, so everyone decided it was best that he go home and get some rest).  We knew we had a long night/day ahead of us.  Blake took that opportunity to go back home, grab a few more things, and drop Gaudi off at my parents' house.  So for a couple of hours, it was just me and my mom. 

At around 1:30 a.m., the nurses inserted my IV and started me on penicillin.  Normally you don't have to have IV antibiotics unless you are GBS positive (Group B Strep), but I still hadn't gotten my GBS test results back from my 36 week appointment - so I needed the antibiotics as a precaution. 

Contractions steadily began to increase in intensity and regularity (between 3 and 7 minutes apart at this point).

At around 2:00 a.m., I was finally transferred to my labor and delivery room, which was much, MUCH larger and nicer.  Blake returned soon thereafter. Within a half hour of his return, Blake was snoring on the couch... which is where he remained for hours.  In fact, he slept through a great majority of my labor.  Thank god for my mom's company!

At 3:15 a.m. I decided to accept a dose of stadol (a narcotic given by IV to help manage pain during labor).  It really did nothing to decrease my pain (which was uncomfortable but still manageable at this point).  All the stadol did was make me feel very sleepy and a little drunk.  Despite the fact that I had been laboring for 4.5 hours and it was 3:15 a.m. in the morning, I couldn't sleep.  I was too amped up on adrenaline.  Needless to say, Blake's adrenaline levels must have been much tamer. 

At 5:15 a.m. I had another cervical check.  I was 3 cm dilated and still 90% effaced.  The nurse started me on IV fluids so that they could start me on a pitocin drip (medicine to increase the intensity and regularity of contractions) and so I could get my epidural whenever I was ready.  The doctor/nurses were pleased that my body was making progress on its own, but since I was planning to get an epidural anyway, there was no reason not to augment my labor with a bit of painful-contraction-juice (aka Pitocin) so that things would start moving a bit more quickly. 

In retrospect, I do not remember the contractions ever being horrible prior to getting my epi, but a review of my text messages from during my labor suggest otherwise.  A text to my friend Gara at 6:09a.m. said "Contractions are freaking awful.  Think I'll get the epi soon."

At 7:30 a.m. I finally got my epidural and had another cervical check.  I was just about 4 cm dilated and super thinned out.  Pitocin was started.  The epidural was so easy!  I was definitely nervous since I'm not great with needles, but I was brave and the anesthesiologist was great.  Inserting the epi was quick and painless.

The bottom line shows my contractions PRIOR to Pitocin

Pitocin contractions

At 9:00 a.m., Dr. Bradford arrived.  I was stoked to see her, since often times your own OB isn't on call when you go into labor.  She reassured me that she would be the one delivering Ryder.  She wanted to insert internal monitors to get a better idea of what my contractions were doing.  Apparently, external monitors don't truly measure the intensity of contractions (merely the frequency).  Unfortunately, Dr. Bradford found that she was unable to insert the internal monitors.  As in, she was literally physically unable to insert the monitor... This was the first small kink in my labor process.  She felt that my upper pelvis was too tight of a fit and was concerned about the baby being able to fit on his way out.  So, no internal monitors for me.  She was also concerned that I was bleeding a bit more than normal.  She explained that if the bleeding was cervical, it was not a big deal, but if it was placental bleeding, it could be dangerous.  Nurses were instructed to keep a close eye on me.  This was the point when I started to get nervous that I'd need a c-section.  I was really, REALLY hoping for a vaginal delivery!  At this point, I was still dilated to 4cm, and my pitocin levels were increased.

Dr. Bradford posing with the soon-to-be parents right after her failed attempt to insert internal contraction monitors.

At 11:00 a.m., the nurse came in for another cervical check.  7 cm!!  I went from barely 4 cm dilated to 7 cm in two hours.  Fabulous progress!

A rare sighting... daddy-to-be awake while I was laboring  :)

At noon, Gara and I had this little exchange:

At 1:00 p.m. I had another cervical check and was 9 cm dilated.  Whoohoo!  It was around this time that I started experiencing some significant pain from contractions again.  The epi was wearing off.  The nurse told me I could get some more epi meds injected into the epi catheter if I wanted.  I was torn because I knew that it was better for me to have some feeling during the pushing phase, but I didn't want to be in extreme pain either (since that would defeat the purpose of having an epi in the first place).  After some hemming and hawwing (and some moaning and groaning too), I finally opted for the epi bolus, and my new best friend (aka the anesthesiologist) came to visit me again to give me some more of the good stuff. 

Before I got the epi bolus, a bunch of my mom's friends stopped by to visit.  My mom had been texting and calling her friends, and a bunch of them headed to the hospital once it was obvious that I was getting close to the pushing phase. It was fun to have a crowd come visit me just before it was time to run the last leg of my labor marathon.  Everyone tried to guess Ryder's birth stats and we captured their guesses on video.

Some of my mom's besties: Laurie, Lynn, Susan, Barbi (and mom)

My BFF Marcia arrived at 2:00 p.m. to keep me company and offer support.  When she received my OH MY GOD MY WATER BROKE text that morning, she immediately texted back to see how I was doing and get details.  At 7:20 a.m., she sent me this text: "We have our f'ing baby class tonight at Baylor.  But I want to see you!!! I'm considering using my last personal day/sick day today to come to hospital if you want my company."  Now, THAT'S what best friends are for! 

Marcia stayed in the room with me for about an hour until Dr. Bradford came back to see me at 3:00 p.m.  Dr. Bradford announced that it was time to PUSH!

At this point, Dr. Bradford wanted me to get on my hands and knees in bed (i.e. resting on my elbows and knees) because she felt that Ryder was probably in occiput posterior fetal position (called "OP" for short in the medical world and called "Sunny-side up" in the non-medical world).  When baby is face up like this, it is harder to push him/her out.  Getting on my hands and knees was supposed to help encourage him to turn.  However, I double-dog-dare you to try to get yourself in this position while the lower half of your body is completely numb, and I triple-dog-dare you to try to stay in this position while completely numb!  Dr. Bradford and the nurse literally lifted and placed me into the proper position and I did my best to balance.  It was so awkward and weird (especially since my fat pregnant ass was exposed)!  I stayed in this position for about 20 minutes.  Dr. Bradford checked me again afterwards but she couldn't tell whether he had moved.


I started pushing at 3:20 p.m.


So began the marathon of all pushing marathons.  I'm thinking that the glorious epidural bolus probably had a lot to do with my struggles.  Before the bolus, I could move my legs a little bit and had at least SOME feeling.  After the bolus... nada.  I was number than numb.  I had zero feeling and zero control over my body from the waist down.  It certainly complicated my ability to effectively push.  The numbness combined with my super narrow pelvis and my baby's giganto noggin' made for a tough go.

So I pushed.  And pushed.  And pushed.  Dr. Bradford coached me for a while, and then she left to see another laboring patient.  And then she came back to check my progress, which was minimal (at best).  I continued to push with the nurse whenever Dr. Bradford stepped away.  For most of the time, the nurse held one leg and Blake held the other.  But at one point, Dr. Bradford had Blake and I playing tug-of-war with a bed sheet.  Blake liked that part.  He'd stand between my legs and hold one end of the sheet and I'd grab onto the other end and pull the sheet while pushing down below.  It was interesting, to say the least.  My mom also took some turns at the leg-holding.

At around 5:00 p.m., Dr. Bradford took off her gloves, turned off the overhead spotlight, and parked her butt by my side on the hospital bed.  She told me that it was time for us to have a serious discussion (I believe she referred to it as a "pow-wow").  We spent the next 20 minutes "taking a break" (Dr. Bradford's words) and discussing our plan of action.  Many doctor's would have forced a c-section right then and there.  It had been just under 2 hours and Ryder didn't appear to be moving any closer to the outside world.  But Dr. Bradford was awesome.  Ryder's heartrate stayed stable the whole time, and my vitals were stable as well.  I still had a low-grade fever (which was consistent throughout my labor), but there weren't any other warning signs.  I reiterated to Dr. B how much I wanted a vaginal delivery.  It was around this time that I started getting some feeling back in my legs and abdomen, so even though I was totally exhausted, I felt like I could start pushing better.  Dr. B also needed to talk to me about my feeling on forceps.  To make a long story short, I said no to forceps.  I was not comfortable forcing Ryder out in that manner (due to the risks, which I will not go into).  So basically my feeling was: I wanted a vaginal delivery if at all possible but if it came to the point where Dr. B determined that forceps would be needed, I'd opt for a c-section instead.  Dr. B never verbalized a cut-off point or deadline, which I loved, but I knew in my heart that I probably only had an hour or less before Dr. B would have no other choice but wheel me into surgery.  During our little pow-pow, I know that my mom was trying to mentally will me to give in and have the c-section.  She didn't say anything out loud because she wanted to be 100% supportive, but I knew (and it was confirmed after the fact) that she thought I was an absolute lunatic for pushing like a crazy woman for 2 hours with little progress and wanting to continue in that same fashion.  Blake was quietly supportive.  Since he is a man, I don't think he realized that it was unusual for the pushing to go on so long.

At 5:20 p.m. I resumed pushing.  It was different at that point because (a) the 20 minute break gave me a chance to rest and to remind myself how much I wanted a vaginal delivery and (b) during that time frame I got significant feeling back in my legs and abdomen, which meant I could feel contractions and push more effectively.


During the pushing phase, Blake took over my cell phone to give updates when needed.  At 5:29, Blake sent an update to Gara that read: "This is Blake. She has the mirror now and can see the head!"  Gara was the one that had suggested that I try using a mirror to see what was going on down below.  It didn't last long though because it really didn't look like Ryder's head was moving at all while I was pushing... so it wasn't exactly motivating.  I asked the nurse to remove the mirror soon thereafter.  It really wasn't anything I cared to see!

During this final round of pushing, I suddenly became aware that my mom and Blake were taking little breaks between pushes to share a pickle.  Yes, you heard me... they were sharing a big sour pickle.  Blake would take a bite and then hand it off to my mom to take a bite.  Apparently Blake had seen the pickles down in the hospital shop earlier that day.  My dad called my mom during the pushing to ask whether they needed anything, and she requested that he get her a bottle of water.  Blake requested a pickle.  It led to a very bizarre scenario.  Mother of pregnant, laboring daughter and son-in-law/baby daddy were sharing a pickle between my pushes. 

Lo and behold... Dr. B started announcing some major progress!  My pushes were awesome at this point, and the mood in the room changed.  My mom, Blake and Dr. Bradford suddenly all sounded like middle school cheerleaders after one too many pixie stix.  It was all so exciting!  Extra nurses flooded into the room and started preparing for Ryder's big debut. 

At 6:40 p.m. on November 28, 2011, Ryder graced us with his presence in the outside world.  He was 5 pounds, 13 ounces and 18 inches long.  He was freaking beautiful.  He looked like Blake.  Or at least his pouty little lips looked like Blake's lips.  He was healthy and precious.

You only have this many bracelets if you've been clubbing all night... or you're in the hospital!

There aren't many pictures of me from right after Ryder's birth because I was a swollen mess.  I'm sharing this one because it's just plain weird if I don't include any.