Holy heck. Two months have almost passed since my Arlie girl was born! While I will save writing about her for her two-month post, I want to document her birth story because I barely remember it even now. Those four days were a blur of emotion, naps, pain, and lots of tears (good and bad). I was always told to be flexible when it came to having a birth plan, but I had no idea how flexible I needed to be!
Because I am diabetic, my high-risk doctor and my OB both agreed that I needed to deliver Arlie between 38-39 weeks. The plan was that I would either go into natural labor, or be induced if she had not come by then. Late into my 37th week my OB broke the news to me that she had not dropped into my pelvis, and was still sitting quite high. My cervix was also sealed shut and I was not even remotely dilated. I looked at him like he was crazy, because I was in SO MUCH PAIN by that point that I could have sworn that she was about to fall out of me. Alas, my child is stubborn like her father, and was taking her sweet time.
Because of this my OB said he didn't feel comfortable inducing me because he didn't think it would be effective. He said I could wait it out and see if she dropped at 39 weeks, and potentially have a c-section if she hadn't moved, or go ahead and schedule the c-section for that next week. I knew that when I was born I was almost two weeks late, and holy hell, I needed that child out of me ASAP. Thankfully he listened and we scheduled a c-section for November 8th.
At the time I was relieved and excited that we had a date set and plans were in motion. But once I got home and started talking out logistics with my husband, I got very, very scared. They were going to slice me in half and pull my baby out of me. How is that even possibly going to go well? I had planned for a vaginal birth, I had accepted that my vagina was going to be wrecked, and had medical supplies stocked for that scenario. Now instead of R.I.P. MY VAGINA running through my head, I had R.I.P. MY STOMACH MUSCLES on repeat and that seemed so much scarier.
Regardless, surgery was my fate, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't excited that I got to take off 8 weeks of work rather than just 6. So I continued planning for a c-section birth, made a whole new Pinterest board, and starting packing for the hospital.
Flash forward to November 7th, the day before I was expected to show up at the hospital. I wake up around 3 in the morning with horrible stomach pain and suddenly realize "oh my God I am gonna puke." And I did puke. Over, and over, and over for six hours. I called my husband at work crying because I was terrified they would reschedule Arlie's birth. On the flip side I was also freaking out because I was so damn weak that I could barely take a shower without getting sick. After calling my OB, he told me to head to the hospital to get IV fluids and nausea meds. I called my mom bawling because I had a list of last minute things to finish that day that were not going to get done because I was so sick. I also recall crying because Jeff and I were supposed to go on our final date night and get froyo, and I really freaking wanted some froyo (this was really important to pregnant Addison). Thankfully, my mom immediately packed a bag and headed up to Tulsa while I drove myself to the hospital and my husband met me there. After two rounds of IV fluids I got the all clear to go home, but could kiss goodbye any thoughts of solid food until after Arlie was born (no froyo, le sigh). At that point I was just happy to go home and rest before showing back up at the hospital 15 hours later for surgery.
Thankfully I was able to get rest, cuddled and bowl of chicken broth, and almost everything on my to-do got completed thanks to my family pitching in (except for baby shower thank-you cards getting written because I am a bad person and still haven't done it). That morning I woke up peacefully, and my to my surprise, was not sick at all! I was actually getting excited by that point, and was even more excited to be able to eat actually food after she was born. As I stated before, I was learning a wild lesson in flexibility. Little did I know that I was gonna have to be even more care-free as the day continued!
Part 2 will come sooner or later, depending on if Arlie decides that daytime naps are cool or not. Stay tuned!
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