Oh, woe is milk.

Dresden has been a little sick for the last few days--refusing to eat, throwing up, and not having any bowel movements. The doctor thought he may have been reacting to something in my milk, so we tried some formula for a few feedings. The first two went okay, but then--puke. Dallas suggested that we only feed him fresh breast milk for a little while and keep a closer eye on what I'm eating, and that seems to be going well. No vomiting for the last six feedings. (Please don't jinx that.) The only problem? I had to dump all this out.

That's over 35 ounces of breast milk. I know I'll keep making it. I know it's important for me to keep track of what I eat so I know if something makes Dresden sick, and I know there's a big question mark over all of that milk. I know, I know, I know. But don't think for a second I didn't squall as I poured it down the drain.

Le sigh.

It's a good thing I am crazy about this little man. He's hard, exhausting work, but all he has to do is make that little smile and I forget that I've only gotten two hours of sleep. He doesn't even mean to smile. It doesn't matter.

Quick update.

My doctor came through in the end. Dallas and I couldn't be happier with how she handled everything. She was there, and she was wonderful.

I did not give birth naturally. Oh no sir, I did not. And the epidural was easy. It did make my blood pressure drop enough that I had to have extra monitoring, but it made my labor bearable. The nurses kept telling me I could push the button to up my dosage if I got too uncomfortable, and Dallas tried to convince me to push it when we got to the pushing stage because it was very nearly gone. I'm pretty sure I could feel everything. It certainly hurt enough to be everything. And I remember most of the process. I remember the first contraction spent pushing, and I remember looking at Dallas and saying, "I'm having a baby. Oh, god." or something very similar to that. Everyone laughed. I was not kidding.

The feeding situation is out of control. I had my heart set on breast feeding as soon as he was born, but that couldn't happen because he needed extra attention. I didn't want him having any artificial nipples, but that couldn't happen because he had low blood sugar. My mom was able to help him latch on to my breast, but everyone who helped me get started after my mom left had no success, so I spent the first day or so using a nipple shield--a little silicone cap that goes over your natural nipple. And then he was so jaundiced we couldn't rouse him, so we started discussing my colostrum supply and I began pumping every two hours to see if I was producing anything. I wasn't. We had to start supplementing with formula in order to get him to go to the bathroom and start clearing the bilirubin. I started bawling with every feeding because I felt like such a failure. These big stupid breasts were completely worthless, and I was pissed off at them. By the time they sent us home, they were unbelievably sore and I was unbelievably angry at them. So I brutalized them. One late night, unproductive pumping session, I gave myself an extra vigorous massage (they told me to at the hospital, but I took this one to a mean level) and voila! The next day, I started making milk. Now I'm producing between 4 and 5 ounces per pumping session. Dresden's jaundice has not gotten any better, so I still have to bottle feed him, and I do hate that. But at least he's getting breast milk, right? I don't even mind the extra 30 minutes pumping adds to our feeding routine. I know it's better for him. It's not ideal, but it's the best I could do. I'm still pretty sensitive about it, but I believe I've done everything I could. I'm thankful for whatever milk I get. Pumping dry breasts was emotionally and physically painful.

Dresden! The birth.

I promise to post this blog no matter where it ends. I think I have about half an hour before my little man wakes up, and there's so much to say.

First! I gave birth to Dresden Luther Merritt at 3:27pm on July 15, 2011. He weighed 7lbs 6oz and was 19.5in long. He's perfect. I keep looking at him and thinking to myself, "Who knew I could make something so GOOD?"

Here's how it started. I'd been feeling so ill for about a week and a half, and after four straight nights of sleeplessness and intense nausea, I fell apart and made Dallas come home from work to be with me--something I swore I would only do if my contractions were regular or if my water broke. He came home and we went to the hospital for the second time this week. We checked in at about 9am on Thursday, and spent the day being pumped full of fluids and...I can't remember what else they did. My doctor (I'll get to her!) had appointments all day and couldn't see us until that evening, around 7pm I guess. Anyhow, she said my blood work came back slightly off that morning and had continued to decline throughout the day. I'm not sure about the specifics, but I think my platelets were low and my liver functions were high. She said it looked to her like I was developing HELPP syndrome, which I will eventually have time to look into? Maybe? She said it was basically a variation of preeclampsia and that she strongly recommended inducing. Just last week, she had insisted that everything was going well and that she didn't see any reason to think I wouldn't carry to full term or beyond and that she wouldn't support an induction until I passed the 41st week. I knew how she felt about inductions and I trusted she wouldn't arbitrarily decide it was time for my baby to be born. So I was induced.

The plan was for to insert a cervix softener to prepare my body for birth and then begin Pitocin on Friday morning, hoping to give birth sometime in the wee hours of Saturday morning. But my body and the Cervidil had other plans. I could feel my contractions start to change VERY soon, and four hours after the decision to induce was made, my water broke and I was 3cm. By 8am on Friday morning, I was 8cm. BUT THEN! I stalled. I sat at 8cm for hours, coming very close to a c-section two or three times. Dresden's heart rate was showing signs of distress. Poor Dallas went to get a few things from the apartment and came back to my room to find me like this:

Glamorous, right? Don't I make a lovely laboring woman? He was overwhelmed at the idea of a c-section and having to choose between letting the nurses take away our baby or leaving my side on the operating table.

But Dresden consistently recovered well, and I was able to deliver vaginally. I was fully dilated by 1:00 and started pushing shortly after that.

There are so many specifics I want to eventually get to, but now is not the time. I mostly wanted to explain something that I've been needing to say ever since this moment. Giving birth is traumatic. Dresden recovered fairly quickly, and of the four babies born that day, he was the only one who didn't have to go to the NICU. But when he was born? My heart shattered, and I'm still working on reassembling it. He was blue and limp and silent and the cord was around his neck. My doctor took him out and put him on "the landing pad" on my chest. I know it was only for a second, but I think that second has been the worst moment of my whole life. It took SO LONG for them to get him pinked up and responsive. His one minute APGAR was a 3 (out of 10). By five minutes, it had gone up to a 9, so I know they fixed him up quickly, but those first seconds and the minutes that followed? I can't think about it without getting hysterical.

We are so, so lucky.

I'll post again eventually. So much to say. And no time for editing.

38 weeks

I've put off writing this blog since Monday because all it's going to be is complaints, and I'm tired of being that girl. I'm never going to be pregnant again, and I'm trying to savor these last days, but...I'm so miserable. So here it is. This week's list of woes.

My doctor's appointment was worthless. I expected her to check my progress, talk about what might have caused the pain that sent us to the hospital on Saturday, maybe, you know, tell us about the test results from last week. Nope. She listened to his heartbeat and peaced it out. Well, she did take the time to tell us that she probably wouldn't be at the delivery--not because she is going on vacation, but because she's just so busy...Awesome. I wish we would have gone with Dr. Avery. He's wonderful. If you ever need an OBGYN in Tuscaloosa, you won't find a more personable, comforting person in town. He's like...a Santa Jesus who delivers babies. We love him.

So, the hospital trip on Saturday. I woke up at 1:30. Dry heaving. I woke up dry heaving. It was awful. I had an intense, painful pressure in the bottom of my rib cage, as if my bones were cracking. I could barely breathe, and each contraction made it so much harder and more painful. We were told to go to the hospital we planned to deliver at just in case I was in labor, so that's what we did. By the time we got there, my contractions were 2-3 minutes apart. But then they stopped about an hour later. The pressure/pain in my chest hasn't gone away, but it does go through lulls, and that's pretty much when I try to sleep. The only things that really help are showers and back rubs. I guess it's just my giant baby squishing my insides, but it's intense.

On a positive note, my stretchmarks don't hurt any more. On a gross and weird note, they're scabbing over. Yep, that can happen.

37 weeks! Full term!

I'm having more and more symptoms of early labor. Want to know how awesome those are? I'll tell you.

Days of contractions, getting stronger and more regular.

Cramping.

Back pain.

Diarrhea.

Increased discharge.

Massive heartburn.

Frequent urination (even for being pregnant--we're talking 30+ times a day).

Intense restlessness and despair at having to spend another day being pregnant.

ALL COMPLETELY NORMAL. I can't even describe my favorite symptom. It's something I've felt periodically over the last couple of months, and I can't really find much on what causes it. I can feel a sharp pinching sensation around my cervix (I think). The best explanation I've found is that the baby's head is resting on the cervix and the pinching is caused by any movements he makes. Okay, fine. Whatever. It's only bad when I'm up and walking around because it makes me feel like the baby might fall out with every step. I know he won't, but it feels so weird!

I know we don't have the pack'n'play put together. I know there's a big wooden piece of furniture in the middle of our nursery, waiting for D to put together. I know I don't even have the hospital bag packed. I don't care. I'm ready. Let's do this.

Really, even with all of this stuff going on, I'm thankful. My sister's week has been an absolute hell compared to anything I've faced this pregnancy, even the terrifying ER visit of the first trimester. Her mother-in-law drowned a few days ago, and my sister had to be the one to tell her husband (who was halfway around the world on an oil rig). Everything about the situation was wrong and awful and heart-breaking, and my sister has been so strong. She's grieving, of course, but she's also held it together for her husband and the little girl she's building. AND to make this week even more awesome for them all, she was just diagnosed with gestational diabetes. The diagnosis itself isn't so bad, but they have to admit her to the hospital! I want to be there for her, and I just can't. I'm glad that she at least lives close enough to my parents that they can visit her. And, even though I HATE the reason for it, I am glad her husband is there with her, too.

36 weeks (part deux)

My ultrasound went well! I finally have a better picture of little d's profile and an estimate of his size. Let's do the cute one first:

Look at his little nose! So sweet! They were also able to determine that the umbilical cord is not around his neck. He kept trying to grab it and put it in his mouth. Gross, yes, but better than having it strangle him. I was surprised that he IS in position--head down, feet up. Feet way up, actually. He's kicking my ribs as I type this.

And then there's his size. Dresden is already bigger than any of my mom's babies and all of my nieces and nephews. Already. According to Thursday's estimate, he's 7lbs 4oz. That means he's on track to weigh more than 9 pounds by his due date. Thankfully, everything is measuring a bit ahead of that. I was technically 36 weeks and 2 days when the ultrasound was done, but he measured closer to 38 weeks. That doesn't mean he'll necessarily come two weeks early, but I'm extra hopeful now, especially since I'm starting to "make progress." (See previous blog.)

Dallas bets that Dresden will be born around July 12 and weigh 8 lbs 10oz. I'm still thinking he'll be born closer to the 17th, and I have no idea how much he'll weigh. I just pray it's less than 10lbs.