Lucy's Story

Lucy is such a doll. She was born on Monday, September 26th when she was 1 day shy of 39 weeks. I was not expecting to have a baby on Monday, but I'm glad I did- 9 lbs 8 oz and 20 inches is not messing around.

9am: I went in to the doctors office in the morning to have my regular non stress test. Baby Lucy didn't move as much as the nurses wanted, so I was set to come in a little later to do further testing at the hospital (this didn't concern me yet as I had done this at 32 weeks as well when baby didn't move too much, and nothing was wrong).

11am: Before I went to the hospital, the OB/GYN doctor checked to see how far along I was (nothing crazy, 2cm and somewhere around 50% to 75% effaced) and at this time also checked my blood pressure- which was quite high. Since this is worrisome at 39 weeks, they also checked the protein in my... pee... sorry... which was also high. Therefore, preeclampsia was a high probability. So, a lot of things going wrong. a no good Non-stress test and probably preeclampsia. I was feeling nervous at this point, but also kinda excited because I knew all this stuff would further things along. and, I was so ready to not be pregnant.

12pm: Because of all this, they just sent me to the hospital right then for a "possible induction." Brent took off work and came with me, I was so glad. As we were walking down the hall, Brent noted how we would have the baby today. I said, no way- last time I went to the hospital at 32 weeks, things took so long so I figured I wouldn't give birth at least until the next day.
Brent won that one.

1-3pm: The hospital ran some tests and determined I did indeed have preeclampsia-  and doctor (who was kind of a scary old man) gave me two choices:
1. he would break my water, insert internal monitoring (yiiiiiikes) that keep track of baby's movement and heartbeat, administer a little pitocin, and hope my body would successfully go into labor and hopefully I wouldn't have a face up posterior baby, which according to the doctor, was likely due to my pelvis shape.
2. Schedule a repeat c section.

I was so torn. I cried like a dummy and it was embarrassing in front of the old doctor. I wanted the experience of a vaginal birth and I was hoping the recovery from that would way easier than a c section. But I was a little freaked about the internal monitors, and frankly, about going through all the contractions and having it just lead into a c section anyways. And option 1 didn't have an end time in sight, like after they broke my water I could have the baby in a few hours or in another day or two, which felt depressing. Also, I felt like the c section was an "easy" route - which it isn't, looking back. Anyway, I chose the repeat section. I felt a bit like a failure (I think it's crazy and annoying I felt this way- emotions are so weird.)

3pm: Brent leaves to pick up lunch and a few things from home. Nurses/anesthesiologist are prepping me for c section- I get an IV and an epidural. Things start to get a little freaky in my head. My blood sugar was a little low, and I think it affected me mentally. Plus, I was about to have a baby and I was all alone in the hospital room, so I'm sure that added fuel to the fire. Anyway, I started having such anxious and depressing thoughts, I'll never be able to handle two kids, Ella will get severely depressed and I won't be able to help her, I'll never be happy again, my life will never be the same. It was horrible. Brent is such a rock in these situations. He had just come back to the hospital and I was telling him how anxious and scared I was, and he was calm and happy and seemed excited about having a baby, and it was so reassuring. Also, I had some juice, so my blood sugar was coming around.

3:45pm ish; I'm wheeled into the operating room for the c section. It is so cold in there- for sanitary purposes? I don't know, but my teeth were chattering and it was uncomfortable- I was just in my hospital gown. The anesthesiologist put in the numbing stuff, and I could feel my legs and body start to get warm, starting from my feet and moving up. Creepy what medicine can do. The sheet went up in front of my face and oxygen into my nose. At this point, I kept telling Brent and the anesthesiologist I was frightened and couldn't feel myself breathe. Thankfully they were as calm as cucumbers telling me that was the normal (the epidural makes it so you can't feel your chest rising and falling). I also heard a nurse say the platelet count was low. I asked what that meant, and was told it wasn't me, that was another patient. And I thought, what the heck, why are these doctors talking about other patients, lets focus on the naked and pregnant body right in front of their faces. What if they made a mistake on me because they were thinking about another patient? That was scary and I stopped thinking about that.

4:21pm: I hear, "look at that double chin" from a doctor and that her weight is 9 lb 8 oz, and I'm astounded. Cause you know, Ella was only 7 lbs. I didn't hear any crying though and I got worried so I asked, and I must have been out of it or something because the anesthesiologist was like oh yea, she's crying. Brent brings our sweet swaddled baby over to my face and I see she has that dark thick hair and her eyes are now closed.

After the surgery, my teeth chattered like a crazy person and I was pretty nauseous. I lost my cookies a few times as they were wheeling my bed to my room. That didn't happen last time... but nobody seemed worried.

Birth is crazy. Some things, the stuff I described above, are so vivid in my memory... but other things I've completely lost. Like, I can't remember when I nursed Lucy for the first time, I know it was soon after she was born, but I can't place it. Or when she was first placed in my arms... I can't picture it.

Anyway, Lucille Marie Mouritsen (after my mom Belinda Marie) is a model baby. She sleeps and nurses like a pro (nursing is so so so much easier this time around) and has a little cry that makes you want to snuggle her right away. Ella is adjusting, as well as can be expected under the circumstances. More to come, of course, of this new family of four.

 My face is so swollen!

Update: Dec 2017: Lucy is now walking and is such a confident little ball-loving baby. Anyhow, I wanted to add in something I remembered about my hospital stay that I'd like to include. There's something to be said for the hormonal and brain tricks that pregnancy, labor, and postpartum play on your body.

I stayed in the hospital around 3 days (due to the c section) and a day or two into the stay, after I nursed Lucy, I had the nurse take her to the nursery so I could get some sleep. But, after resting a little, I wanted to see her. So, I went in to the nursery, and I saw this dark haired baby in a bassinet sleeping- amongst several other baby filled bassinets- and I thought, is this Lucy? No, that's not her. So I looked around some more and didn't see her! Then I looked back at the dark haired baby and was like, is this my baby Lucy? HOW COME I DON'T RECOGNIZE MY OWN BABY?! I felt so scared and confused why I didn't know for sure if this was my Lucille. I asked a nurse if this was Lucy Mouritsen and she checked the tags and confirmed and gave me a reassuring hug. That nice nurse didn't act judgemental or anything which I greatly appreciate. But this was such a weird incident, and frightening and hopefully would never happen again. My girls are great, divas and seemingly constantly crying, but really great.