Thursday, January 2, 2014

Beckum's Baby Story pt. 3

warning: once again, this is a delivery story. and this is the messy part. so if you don't like delivery stories then STOP READING NOW. :)

When I was a little girl me and my sisters had a favorite movie called "The 10th Kingdom". We loved it the most because it was TEN hours long (it was actually a mini series, but we didn't know the difference) and - if we played our cards right - Mom and Dad would let us stay up ALL. NIGHT. LONG. to watch our beloved show full of fantasy and fairy tales. We devised plans to keep ourselves awake and when we would begin feeling exhausted we would go and move around and find some sugar and then we were able to continue on in our quest to "stay awake ALL. NIGHT. LONG". The next morning we would feel that type of overwhelming tiredness that makes you feel like your brain is the equivalent of a computer with a virus; every movement is laggy and delayed.

Let's just say that the morning of the 26th of September, I was definitely feeling like my brain had a virus. The night had been exhaustively long. Haven had drifted off to sleep shortly after Hunter - and suddenly I was left to my own thoughts. I was excited but nervous for the next day. On top of that our sweet little baby thought that just as I was drifting off to sleep was the ideal time to kick me in the side. To top it all off with a cherry, my water continued to leak; every 15 minutes I had to drag myself out of bed to change my clothes again and find more towels to lay on.

It wasn't until the second or third time of having to get out of bed to change my clothes that the pain started. Back labor. Unlike normal contractions with definite intervals, back labor seemed to be a constant, unyielding ache. It wasn't enough to make me cry, but I definitely had to breath deeply and walk very slowly to the bathroom every time I had to change. A few times when I got up, I turned on the shower and sat in there with the hot water on my back; it definitely helped to ease the pain as well as calm my ridiculously reeling brain.

Every time I got up, Hunt would groggily wake up and ask what he could do and I would tell him to just go back to sleep. I wanted at least ONE of us to not be sleep a deprived crazy for the coming day. A few times when I got out of bed, Hav woke up and Hunt would try and help him get back to sleep; of course Haven would only want me, though and so I would try and take care of him.

Finally at 4:30 AM I gave up with trying to sleep and decided to have an extra long hot shower and then start getting ready for the day. We needed to be completely ready and out of the house by 6:00 AM.

Havie could tell that there was something exciting about to happen and he was really giddy when he first woke up.
 We explained to Haven what was happening and that he would go and stay at T's while we were at the hospital going to have the baby. He started getting worried and nervous and by the time we got there he was close to tears. And it broke my heart!

of course i made the pictures happen! there was no convincing hav to smile for the cameras though. poor little dude.
On the drive to the hospital Hunt and I talked about middle name options for a boy. I was still going a little kookoo over the fact that we did not have a solid middle name picked out if it was a boy. We were considering "George" after my Grandpa on my mom's side but I felt conflicted about it. I decided that the torture of trying to choose a middle name was too much for me (I could blame it on my 'virus brain' but if you know me, you know that making decisions - especially under pressure - is, without question, not one of my strong points) and simply hoped that the baby was a girl. This was pretty easy to tell myself for TWO reasons:

1. Hunt definitely wanted the baby to be a girl. He had a few reasons he felt this way, one of them being that we already had a little boy and we were both excited to experience what a little girl would be like.
2. I tend to get a little excited about cute clothing. So I went a little crazy every time I saw cute girl's clothes (it was a problem) and, needless to say, I had stock piled a fair amount of girls clothing.

We made it to the hospital with time to spare (probably one of the only instances that we have been on time in our entire married life. ha). I met my nurse in labor and delivery and LOVED her, which I was so relieved for. I was pretty disappointed when I found out that I was still only at 3-4 cm. I was hoping that things were progressing on their own so that I wouldn't have to be stuck in a hospital bed for the majority of my labor (you generally have to be monitored a lot more if you are induced).

My nurse explained to me that my Dr. wanted me to be induced using Oxytocin. There was two reasons that this made me extremely stressed out: first of all, I had heard that contractions with an oxytocin induction are more painful and second of all (and more importantly) I am terrified of IV's. I will save you all on the horror stories of my IV history, but just trust me when I say that I do not do well with IV's.

On top of that, I thought that there was more options as for induction and I felt rushed into it. I decided that I wanted to make sure that I understood all of my options and asked my nurse why my Dr. had recommended the oxytocin drip (to any Momma's to be that deliver in the hospital setting, I highly recommend making sure that you are informed on everything that happens with your delivery!) She explained everything to me and I felt a lot better about it.

*side note* for baby #3 I plan to try and be a lot more prepared in regards to what options I have.

The IV was no better than I thought it would be - it felt like I was being stabbed in my hand with a very large, sharp object. Oh wait, that's exactly what happened. Ugh. I HATE IV's.

My mom arrived to the hospital after the drip had been started. I was having a little bit more back labor and could feel contractions but nothing that was really difficult to handle.

when i was still happy ;)

they made me stay hooked up to these monitors the whole time.
one definite downfall to induction.

hunt keeping everyone up to date on our status.


They continued increasing the oxytocin level until it reached the maximum amount allowed. Still nothing substantial changed.

my arms look so weird haha!

I got out of bed to see if moving around would help progress things along.


oh look, we're still smiling and happy.
i think around this point is when i thought "wow, this oxytocin stuff really isn't so bad!"
i was wrong folks.
oh, so wrong. 

my momma catchin' up on some reading!
My nurse left for her lunch break and I had a different nurse step in to take care of me. I told Hunter that he should rest while he could.

And then, as murphy's law would have it, just as Hunter dozed off my contractions began coming on stronger. At first I was excited and thought "yay we're finally getting somewhere!" The first few contractions that I could feel with distinction were completely bearable.

And then, as if the pain had come out of nowhere, my pain level increased from 4 out of 10 to a solid 1,000,000 (yes, a million) out of 10. To put it in completely simple terms, it felt like knives were slashing and gashing my insides.

I began to panic in a huge way.

The nurse told me to try and remain calm and "breathe" through the contractions as if it was supposed to help ease the pain. That's a load of crap. It doesn't help with pain. It actually only made me want to punch everyone who said it in the face, only I couldn't because I was in too much pain to expend that kind of energy (which said fact only made me even more angry).

She tried to convince me to breath more calmly by telling me that I would lose consciousness if I continued hyperventilating. Consciousness, schmonciousness - at this point unconsciousness would have been  fabulous. jk.... but seriously, the only thing that kept me from wanting to lose consciousness was the fact that I didn't feel that would be best for my baby. Obviously.

I worked up the courage to tell myself that I could get through this and it would be over soon.

*When I had Hav and the contractions became strong I was ready to start pushing within 20-30 mins.*

So I told myself that the end was nigh and buoyed myself up, trying my hardest to keep reminding myself that these contractions were getting my body ready to deliver the baby and that, in the end, contractions were helpful not harmful. I was sure that I must be at least 8-9 cm.    

My Dr. came to check me and see how things were going.

I was only at 3-4 cm.

If I could have spoken to the Dr. through my pain I would have said:

"So you mean to tell me that after an entire sleepless night of back labor, a whole morning with back labor and contractions and then an afternoon of more back labor and excruciatingly painful contractions that I have not progressed even one. single. freaking. cm?!"

But obviously I did not have the capacity to say all that. So instead I said:

"Epidural. Now."

side note: I will say that I was pretty set on NOT getting an epidural. I knew that I didn't want morphine because that didn't help at all when I had Haven and so I wanted to try and do it completely naturally with this delivery. I was stubborn about it. But I knew that I absolutely could not continue on in the pain that I was in for a possible 5 or more hours.

They ordered the epidural immediately and said that the anesthesiologist was on his way.

He ended up taking a lot longer than expected.

They sat me up on the edge of the bed so that I was ready for the epidural when he arrived. I leaned against Hunter in front of me and my Mom rubbed my back behind me - which seemed to help calm me for a little bit.

The contractions just continued getting worse and worse though. Even in between contractions I was so extremely terrified of the next contraction that I was crying and frantically thinking about the fact that there was another coming.

I quickly became delirious.

The nurses, my Mom and Hunt all got to witness "kookoo Megan" first hand. I began talking to myself in third person; I said anything that was encouraging. It didn't ease the pain one single iota but it gave me something to focus on and that helped to calm me a little bit.

The anesthesiologist arrived and began asking me questions about allergies, etc. I say "etc." because I honestly don't remember what the questions were. After the first one I tuned him out and Hunter answered all of them.

Then he began explaining to me the possible complications:

a severe head ache... in some limited cases, bouts of paralysis, etc, etc, blah, blah, blah.

He followed this by explaining the entire procedure to me. At this point I do remember saying (with great emphasis, I might add ;)

"I don't care, I don't care, I don't care! Just DO IT!"

It took him a minute to sterilize everything.

Then he explained to me that he was ready to give me the needle with the freezing and that he would wait until I was in between contractions to do it.

Let's just take a moment to remember how much I hate needles. I would be a liar if I tried to tell you that part of the reason that I did not initially want an epidural was not because of my great fear of needles. This girl hates needles. But I knew with complete surety that ONE dose of pain was so much better than the above said "slashing and gashing" pain that was repeating itself over and over again inside my body.

Some people say that the administration of an epidural doesn't hurt at all. Let's just say that I am most certainly NOT one of those people. It hurt nearly as much as the contractions hurt. Knowing that it was a means to an end helped though.

So I gritted my teeth, squeezed my eyes shut, dug my nails into Huntie's arms, and cried all while simultaneously trying to maintain the will power to not pull my back away from the giant needle that was causing the pain...

and then, just like that there was sweet relief. 

Just imagine anything wonderful, blissful, heavenly, euphoric or joyful; then multiply it by 1,000 and then again by 100,000 and add it all together and that, my friends, is what I felt once the epidural began working. If hospitals came equipped with choirs, I may have gone and found it so that I could sing choruses of great joy with them. Alas, they do not and so instead I had to settle with laying back into my hospital bed and basking in my immeasurable gratitude and joy that I no longer felt that my insides were being hacked by a serial killer.

OH HAPPY DAY!

Hunt also appeared as though a 1,000 ton weight had been lifted off his shoulders. I don't think he has ever been more thrilled to see me laughing and smiling as he was in that moment.

that crazy town business was exhausting.
I could still feel pain from the contractions, but it was completely bearable. My Dr. came to check on my status about 20-30 minutes later. He told me that I was already at 9 cm and that I could likely start pushing within 20 minutes! I was amazed. I think that the epidural had helped me to relax which in turn helped me to progress.

And so about 10 minutes later, at about 2:50 PM I began the exhausting task of pushing. I thought that the epidural would numb out the pain, but I was definitely wrong. After a length of time that seemed an eternity I asked my Dr. how long I had been pushing for. Much to my alarm, his reply was "10 minutes". I was so entirely exhausted.

Every ounce of my being wanted only to be sleeping.

I worked as hard as I could to focus on the end goal to keep my body working.

And then, finally.... 

"It's a boy!"

Our baby Beckum was born and we became parents all over again for the second time. As soon as I laid eyes on him, I felt like I recognized him; like I had known him for so long.

Any hesitations that we had felt about having a boy vanished.
We were both so thrilled.

becks does look a little dirty to say the least...
but there's nothing like holding your baby for the first time <3


proud daddy

The first thing that I noticed about little Beckum was his black hair - and so much of it!

Only minutes after I had saw Beckum, I knew that I wanted to name him after my Dad. Hunter agreed that he thought it suited Beckum well too.

And so Beckum's whole name became:

Beckum Robert Olsen




During our one night hospital stay with Beckum he slept peacefully almost the entire time. I thought that maybe it was just because he was a new baby and that after he started becoming more alert, he would cry more often.

I was wrong though.

Beckum is now three months old and continues to be a completely content and peaceful baby even when he is alert.

He has added such a sweet and calming spirit to our little family.

We adore this little boy.