Politics of a Registered Democrat

I’m a registered Democrat.

I identify as a liberal. I’m pro-choice, anti-big government, pro sex education and education funding, pro individual and equal rights and civil liberties, pro environment, pro animal rights. I believe that the government should work for its people. I believe that the rich should not be allowed to get wealthier at the expense of the poor and working class.

I’m your basic peace-loving liberal I guess, and I try to practice what I preach. I buy locally and I buy organic as much as I can afford to. I don’t shop at big box companies like Wal-Mart because I abhor their labor practices and I’d rather support small businesses. I vote, even in the “boring” local elections, because it is those people who will work their way up and eventually be casting our electoral college votes in the bigger elections. I believe that the process does work, if we work it.

I don’t support pharmaceutical companies and I think that their practices are warping our perceptions of how our bodies should behave. I resent being told that I need to be medicated because I don’t think just like the status quo does. I think it’s sad that most of the people I know take upwards of 3-4 different medications every day just to “manage” their bodies… and not for things like heart catheter maintenance but for things like “restless legs,” and they believe that they need those drugs just to make it through the day.

I wouldn’t say that I’m anti-war across the board, because certainly there is a time and a place where war is justified, but I don’t support this ongoing war. On a similar note, I’m anti-violence, but not all violence necessarily… just unjust violence. There is a time and a place for that as well and I think a lot of this war could be avoided by allowing special forces to take care of the “really bad guys” without deploying our entire army and involving innocent civilians.

I waver on the death penalty, because I think that some crimes are horrific enough that when the perpetrator is clearly guilty and unrepentant (or even sometimes when they are repentant… but the crime was horrific enough) … that the death penalty is warranted. I stop short of the “eye for an eye” reasoning. I don’t think anything is black and white enough to be painted with a brush like that. I think that many criminals can be rehabilitated and think that work release is a far better option in many cases (and with certain parameters as to the severity of the crime).

I support the decriminalization of recreational drugs. I think there’s a fortune to be made in the legal sale and subsequent government taxing of marijuana. I’m a strong believer in the separation of church and state. I believe that we need universal health care. No one should have to suffer and/or die because they cannot afford health care.

As far as the army… I support the troops, because I appreciate that not all of the people in the military are gung-ho militant assholes. I happen to live in the middle of the Bible Belt and I am surrounded by people who epitomize the “gung-ho militant asshole” who can’t wait to go “shoot some towelheads.” It is these people who have often made me identify as “anti-military” and make the claim that I could never be with a guy who wanted to be a soldier. I can’t understand why anyone would want to be infantry but I know a lot of guys who couldn’t wait to graduate so they could sign up to be specifically that.

I don’t believe that the US needs to fix everyone else’s problems for them. I think that we have people here, in our cities and neighborhoods, who cannot afford a roof over their heads or food for their children… who are dying of terminal illness and suffering from debilitating mental illness… and those people, our people, should be a higher priority than we give them, as a country. Change begins at home.

I can’t believe that our government is considering authorizing the spending of $700 billion to bail out wealthy people who made irresponsible decisions in regards to their mortgage plans and financial portfolios. Our country is already in debt by trillions of dollar. I’d like to know where the buck stops, exactly, and where that bail out money is coming from, exactly. I can’t wrap my brain around this sort of government action, and I’m not sure I want to.

I’m sure there’s more… but that’s enough for the moment.

Patsy Annette Binns Edwards

My friend Patsy Annette Binns Edwards had been sick for a long time. She had a cold in October 2005 that wouldn’t go away. The doctors diagnosed pneumonia in November 2005, then pleurisy in December 2005. Pneumonia again in January and in March 2006. In April she began to suspect that it was something more…. she had lost 17 pounds since December. In early July, tests showed that an overactive thyroid was suspect for the weight loss. Right afterward, a pinched nerve landed her at a chiropractor and when that didn’t help, back at the hospital. On July 28, my friend had a CT scan and it was confirmed that she had a cancerous lung mass. Two weeks later, on August 11, 2006, she was diagnosed with incurable cancer in her brain, liver and lung.

She started radiation and chemotherapy immediately. By January 2007 she was down to 109 pounds, but still pressed onward, ever hopefully and faithful that she would get better. In early March she felt better, then things turned worse again with a bone infusion in late March. She went back to the hospital in mid-April and got steadily worse and worse, needing infusions and fluids almost every day. On May 13, she weighed 99 pounds, down from 158 in July 2006. By the end of the week she had dropped another 15 pounds.

My friend fought a very hard battle. She prayed to God every day to remove the cancer. She believed that God would take care of her and that belief gave her a strength that I have never seen. In an email she sent in September 2006, she said…

Blessings…sometimes they are all around you and you don’t even see them. Being ill like this, I could focus on how awful I feel and how weak I am (I am having trouble walking), but I have to fight this disease and I can’t do that feeling sorry for myself.

On May 19, Patsy’s oldest daughter Ashton told me that her grandma had asked her to come down to Charleston to see her mother one last time. That night I spoke with Patsy’s husband, Conan and the next morning, Ashton and I and my brother Zeb drove to Charleston, to MUSC downtown, to visit with Patsy. By the time we got there, she was in a coma, her breathing facilitated by machines.

We spent the day in the hospital. I held her hand and told her that I loved her, that I could never thank her enough for being my friend and that I would never forget her. I held Ashton while she told her mama how much she loved her and how sorry she was that they ever argued, that she was the best mama she could ever have hoped for. I cried until tears would not run anymore. Hymns were sung, prayers raised, stories told. At 8:30pm on May 20, 2007, Patsy Annette Binns Edwards died, with her oldest daughter holding one hand and her husband holding the other. On May 24, 2007, her body was committed to the ground and her soul to heaven.

Patsy was a wonderful woman. She was the mother of seven children — six by birth and one by marriage. She loved being a wife and a mother, especially a mother. She was never happier than when she was with her children – Ashton, Shannon, Emily, Shayne, Cathlin, Jason and Jamie. She loved being pregnant, loved nursing her babies, loved watching them grow and learn. She was so proud of her older kids and how much they were maturing and changing, right in front of her.

She was a work-at-home mother and had belonged to a huge community of women on the internet since 1999. She started sewing OopsaDaisys! cloth diapers in 1999 and opened My Child’s Garden in 2001, offering beaded “Not Just for Nursing” necklaces and bracelets. In September 2003, she joined Tuesday Bear, a group of work-at-home mothers which has since evolved into Midday Faire. Patsy sewed clothing for children, making incredible embellished overalls and matching hairbows and jewelry. She designed “Baby to Bride” bracelets and “Jean Jewels” for keychains and belts. She did graphic design work for Midday Faire.

Patsy was a pirate, through and through. Her celebrity crush was always Johnny Depp, who bears a striking resemblance to her husband, Conan. She fell in love with the Pirates of the Caribbean movies and eagerly awaited each new movie, going to see the second movie on opening night. She had her own special smilies at the Midday Faire forums and she always had Captain Jack as her picture icon by her name.

I met Patsy in March 2001. We were both members of the Amity Mama forums and both pregnant, me with my first, her with her fifth. Our due dates were within days of each other. We emailed each other and posted together on the forums. She was so jealous when I went into labor first and teased that she would be pregnant forever. Twelve days later, on July 28, 2001, she gave birth to Jason. We emailed late at night a couple times every week, when we were both awake with fussy newborns who wanted to nurse around the clock and later, when our babies were rolling over, sitting up, walking, when I became pregnant again the next April, when we were angry at our husbands or when they did something so incredible romantic, when we were sad or lonely.

Our friendship became even stronger when I joined Tuesday Bear two weeks after Patsy, in October 2003. We messaged each other more than before and one night, when she called me, we spoke easily and laughed so hard we cried. Two more different people you would have trouble finding… Patsy, the Conservative Republican Christian and me, the Liberal Democratic Atheist. It never mattered. We talked about everything, including religion and politics and books and kids and love and sex and men and… everything. She was my closest friend other than my husband, and when I separated from him in May 2006, she became my #1 confidante and keeper of all my secrets, my best friend.

I spent months depressed, self-injurious and for a time, suicidal. I would call Patsy and tell her all of my craziness and she would say just the right thing to talk me out of my tree. She never judged me, only loved me. She prayed for me even when I would tell her that I don’t believe in it. I would visit her in Charleston and we would laugh and talk for hours while our kids played on the playground and she nursed her new baby, Jamie. She saw good in me even when I could not, and she alone knew all that I went through and all that I felt in that one horrible year of my life.

I will never be able to replace the love and the light that was Patsy Edwards. I mourn her loss so deeply and it catches me at odd times in the day. I will laugh at a joke and think how I need to tell Patsy that one, then catch myself and be blinded by tears. I talk to her oldest daughter Ashton, who is dating my little brother Zeb, and she looks so much like her mama. It catches me off-guard when she laughs and her eyes twinkle just like Patsy’s did. I think how Ashton and Zeb would never have met if I had not gone to visit Patsy and take her a life-size cut-out of Johnny Depp right after she was diagnosed with cancer and I smile through my tears. We were all blessed to have known this woman and in the short time that she was here, she touched so many lives.

I’ll love you always Patsy girl.

Patsy Annette Binns Edwards

Where I’m From – The Story of Me

Where I'm From - The Story of Me

Where I’m From…
I am from the front porch swing, from Strawberry Shortcake and sweet tea.
I am from the flat-roofed house, square, blue, warm.
I am from the grass, azaleas, mountains, the trees, roses, and the river.
I am from one present on Christmas Eve and silly names for cats, from Cosette and Tom, Edith and Anne.
I am from the strong-willed and good-hearted.

From intelligent and a smart mouth.
I am from nature. All things green and good and light.
I’m from Virginia, Scotland, beef stroganoff and pancakes.
From the marriage that would not last, the friends that would not stay, and the life experiences that money can’t buy.
I am from the piano, 9 long fingers on ivory keys, music flowing.

Where I'm From - The Story of Me

The Birth Story of Addah Shannon

Our beautiful youngest daughter was born on December 9, 2002!
Addah weighed 4 lbs 5.8 oz and was 17 inches long @ 33½ weeks gestation!
My second daughter in the NICU - Addah's Birth Story


The Beginning:

I guess I should start off with the birth story of my first daughter Lakin, since it is through her birth that I decided on the path to Addah’s birth. I was induced at 37 weeks with Lakin because though I was not in active labor, I was dilated to 2cm and the doctor thought we might as well. I didn’t know any better and went along with it. After 12 hours of Pitocin and a nasty dose of Stadol, I had only dilated to 5cm. I was declared “failure to progress” and a c-section was performed. Lakin Leigh was 5 lbs 14 oz and 18 3/4 inches long. Although at the time I was thrilled to finally have my baby, in the weeks afterward I realized just how wrong my birth went. I never intended to have a c-section, I didn’t and don’t feel it was necessary. My body did not fail to progress, my doctor failed to be patient and wait for my body to labor and progress on its own timetable. I resolved to never have an experience like that again and planned for a home vaginal birth after cesarean for our next baby.

We never used birth control after Lakin was born. It had taken us 15 months to get pregnant with her and since we wanted our children to be close in age, and since I was breastfeeding, we didn’t want to add any more elements to keep us from conceiving as soon as possible. We were never clear on our actual conception date because I was nursing our older daughter Lakin and had not yet gotten my menstrual cycles back. I do know that the date we took our first positive pregnancy test was March 23, 2002, putting our due date at approximately late December/early January 2003.

My pregnancy was very normal, seemingly as textbook as my pregnancy with Lakin. I felt fine, gained very little weight (10 lbs, which is normal for me). My blood pressure never went over 120/80, fundal height consistent with a late Dec./early Jan. due date; baby’s heartbeat remained between 140 and 162 every time we checked with our rented Doppler and from late August on, baby’s movements were very active. We chose not to have any ultrasounds since all signs pointed to a normal pregnancy and baby, and since we had no desire to know baby’s sex. We planned a home vaginal birth after cesarean: read everything we could get our hands on, gathered our supplies, and got ourselves as ready as we could.

On October 22, I woke up having mildly uncomfortable contractions. I took a hot bath, drank several glasses of water and went back to bed. After several hours the contractions slowed and then stopped. Contractions continued to come and go throughout November, some so hard that I just “knew” I was in labor but they always slowed and stopped after a while.

On December 4, 2002, our county was hit with a hard electrical storm and we lost our power. After a long night of contractions by candlelight, it was getting cold enough in the house that we decided to head to my mom’s house. It was the first time in over a month that I thought, “please don’t let me go into active labor right now”. All I wanted was to get back into my home with my privacy before labor started.

Off to the Hospital:

On December 7, 2002 at 4:00 am, Drew, Lakin and I were relaxing on my brother’s bed when I felt a “pop” and a gush of fluid. I told Drew that I thought my water had broken, but when I put my hand down to check for fluid, there was bright red blood instead. I rushed to the toilet and sat for a few minutes, thinking that the bleeding would slow or stop, that maybe it was nothing. In hindsight, I wasn’t really thinking clearly at all, I was panicking and my head was pounding. I started crying and told Drew I was scared to go to the hospital. Visions of a repeat cesarean were already rushing through my head but when I stood up and the blood gushed out again onto the floor, I knew I didn’t have much choice.

We arrived at the hospital at 4:30 am and were taken immediately to Labor and Delivery Outpatient for monitoring. Blood was still gushing out and I had soaked three towels by this point. I was hooked up to a fetal monitor, which showed that baby was doing wonderfully. I was swabbed for several tests and an ultrasound machine was brought in to verify that baby was okay. At this point, baby was head down and my placenta was low-lying but not over my cervix. 2½ hours later another ultrasound was performed and our baby had flipped to a back up, transverse lie and was being blocked from flipping back down by my placenta. An hour after that we had a 3rd ultrasound and baby was still transverse.

Three different doctors came in to tell me how dangerous and negligent we were being by having planned a vaginal birth after cesarean and one told Drew he would never “allow” his wife to make such a decision. We were feeling pretty antagonistic towards the staff by this point and just wanted an answer as to what was going on so we could know what would happen next. I was still very much planning on having a vaginal birth and since the ultrasound showed the baby to be pretty small, I wasn’t concerned with the transverse lie. After all, baby had just turned from head down to transverse so baby could still turn back, right?

Tests all came back normal. I was moved to a regular Labor and Delivery room and shortly after 9:30 am, the bleeding slowed and then stopped.

At 12 pm the bleeding was still stopped and I felt much better. The doctor wanted me to stay for another few hours for monitoring but Drew and I decided to go on home. We left the hospital at 1 pm, I ate a sandwich and went to bed.

At 11:30 pm I woke up, went to the bathroom and ate some dinner. We were lying in bed watching TV when I felt a gush. I said, “I think I’m bleeding again” and then I felt something coming out of me. I reached down in time to feel a very large (2-3″) blood clot slide out of me. I didn’t know what it was or what to think and was freaking out. Drew called 911 and I called my mother to come pick up Lakin.

The ambulance arrived very fast and at 12:30 am I was re-admitted to Labor and Delivery. My blood pressure had spiked to 160/100 in the ambulance but it stabilized and went down quickly. Fetal monitors still showed baby doing great and another ultrasound showed that baby was still transverse, with feet dangling by my cervix. Measurements showed our baby to be 33 weeks and 2 days, completely inconsistent with our test date, and seemingly impossible since we had a non-existent sex life because I had such awful morning sickness until mid-May.

Doctors began considering that our baby had intra-uterine growth restriction (IUGR) and the preliminary diagnosis given was a sub-clinical placental abruption, a fissure too small to be seen by ultrasound and too small to hurt the baby, but large enough to cause frank vaginal bleeding and large enough to have caused IUGR in our baby. I had fallen over a baby gate in our house back in August… the abruption could have happened then and just not been big enough to cause bleeding until now.

Bleeding slowed again at around 10 pm on December 7, 2002 but at this point neither Drew nor I even considered leaving. It had become apparent that this was quite serious and that it was not going to go away. I was quickly seeing my VBAC dreams go out the window and Drew and I spent much time talking and crying, trying to make peace with the huge possibility that I would have a repeat cesarean.

At 1 am on December 8, 2002 I was moved to the High-Risk wing on the Labor and Delivery floor and I was given a steroid shot to hasten lung maturity. The next morning I was taken across the hospital complex for a level 2 ultrasound. Measurements still showed baby at 33 weeks 2 days. The only abnormality found was a 2-vessel umbilical cord instead of a 3-vessel cord. We were told that while not common, this is not exactly uncommon either and probably was not a big deal.

The heads of High-Risk OB and Maternal/Fetal Medicine asked us to consider an amniocentesis so that if an emergency occurred and delivery became necessary, we would have some idea of baby’s lung maturity. We decided to do the amnio at 11:45am. It was not as painful as I’d feared it would be, but certainly very uncomfortable and more than a little scary. Amnio results came back that baby’s lungs are not mature, only rating a 24 when 50 is considered mature.

I went back to my room in high-risk L&D. I had some cramping, which I was told was normal with an amniocentesis. Three doctors came in and all mentioned discharging me within 24 hours and scheduling me to come back in for another ultrasound and amniocentesis in a couple of weeks. With baby lying transverse and my placenta partially abrupted, I was told I had no choice but to have a c-section. In my head I was still defiant — I thought I could go home, no more bleeding, baby would flip head-down and I could still have a VBAC. I made arrangements for Lakin to come up to the hospital to be with us and was feeling much better all around. It was a wonderful relief to know that baby was doing so well on the monitors and that I could go home soon.

Drew left to go run errands and my mom was on her way to bring Lakin at 5pm. I called Drew at home to remind him to bring Lakin’s pajamas and we hung up when my nurse came in to take my vitals. She commented that the baby and I were doing very well, said she was planning to take the monitors off in a while so I could get some real sleep and asked if I felt okay. I said yes, that the bleeding had almost stopped completely again. She left and had been gone no more than 90 seconds when I felt a big gush of fluid again. I hit the nurse call button and she came back in; I told her I thought I had started bleeding again. She pulled back the covers and freaked out! I had passed another large blood clot and I thought this nurse might just faint. She ran for the doctor, who ran in the room…. Everything started happening so quickly. The doctor thought my water might have broken too and decided to do a litmus test to check. Drew walked in the door while I was being tested and a moment later, my sister Hilary and Lakin appeared at the door. I had been waiting all day to see Lakin and I had to tell them to leave, that we would call.

The Birth:

The litmus test was positive for amniotic fluid, the head doctor of high-risk OB was called and it was decided that our baby needed to be born. A quick ultrasound was done and baby was still transverse and very high. Of course this means we had no option but to have a repeat cesarean.

Everything seemed to be happening at the same time all around us and we were more than a little scared. We were rushed back to the Operating Room Recovery Room, where it was discovered that my IV line was no longer running. It was taken out and 3 different people starting trying to get another IV, plus 1 nurse trying to draw blood. I had 2 people on each arm, poking and prodding and then starting over since they couldn’t find any veins. I ended up with cotton balls and tape on the inside of both wrists, on top of both hands and in each elbow. The IV ended up being placed on the inside of my left wrist, a really painful spot. I was in tears and in horrible pain from all of the needles.

At this point the doctor came in and explained that since no abruption was showing on ultrasound, that there was also the possibility that I had the opposite problem, a placenta acreta, where the placenta fuses to the uterine wall. To remove it forcefully can cause massive blood loss and maternal death, so he said that if he encountered that problem, that he would perform a hysterectomy. I was losing it by now. I was so tired, having contractions, lying in a pool of gushing blood, needles in both arms, facing an eminent repeat c-section and being told that I might have to have a hysterectomy. I think I started to shut down at this point, I remember feeling dizzy and then I drifted in and out of sleep for what felt like hours but was really only 5 minutes.

We were waiting for 4 units of blood to be sent up from the lab in case I needed a transfusion. Since the baby was still doing well on the monitor, it was decided that I had time for an epidural rather than the spinal I had asked for or the general anesthesia that we had feared as a possibility. The epidural was just as awful as I remembered from Lakin. My lower back is the most sensitive spot on my body and I could not hold myself still to save my life. I finally had what felt like an out-of-body experience; I focused on the spots on the chair in front of me and disconnected my brain while the epidural was inserted. A test dose was given and within 3 minutes I couldn’t feel my bottom or hips.

The blood was brought up, Drew changed into his scrubs and I was whisked into the OR. The nurse-anesthesiologist tested to make sure I couldn’t feel anything and the drape was put up. I asked for Drew “before they start” and the anesthesiologist said that they had already started, that my belly was opened already. I remembered the intense pulling and pressure from when Lakin was born but it seemed to be taking so much longer this time. I later found out that the doctor initially opened my belly and uterus on my previous cesarean scars, both of which were low transverse incisions, but that the baby was so high that my uterus had to also be cut vertically and diagonally, leaving me with a K-shaped incision on my uterus.

I heard a suctioning sound and then a loud cry, followed by “It’s a little girl!” and I started crying. Addah Shannon was born at exactly 8:00pm on December 9, 2002. She was crying so loudly and sounded wonderful. The NICU team checked her over and gave her the Apgar scores of 6 and 9, wonderful for such a tiny little early baby. She was brought around for us to see briefly and then Drew left to follow her to the NICU. I was closed up and taken back to the Recovery Room, where my mom and aunt were waiting for me. My vitals were checked again and at about 10pm I was taken to the NICU to see Addah and then moved to a regular Mother/Baby room.

My first impression was of how tiny she was, my fingertip filled her little hand and her head was no bigger than an orange. She weighed 4 lbs 5.8 oz at birth and was 17 inches long.

The Story Continues:

She was put on a forced oxygen breather at 25% oxygen, which we were told was very good since we only breathe 21% and this wasn’t much different. By 6am she had been taken off of the oxygen and was breathing regular room air.

A breast pump was brought to me this morning at about 8am and I started pumping. I was so proud of the 1 oz. of colostrum I was able to pump! As far as I was concerned, breastfeeding was the last thing that I had any control over of with this birth and I would not allow it to be messed with in any way. I started pumping every 1½-2 hours and got a pretty good amount to send down to the NICU.

My catheter was removed at 3pm today and I got up to move around some. I remembered having to relearn how to pee and walk from when Lakin was born, but this was much more excruciating that I remembered, I guess because I had the extra vertical incision this time around. By 6pm I felt good enough to take a wheelchair ride to the NICU to see Addah. She had been moved to a heated isolette and was doing very well. I got to hold her for a few minutes. She was so beautiful, so perfectly formed, like a little china doll.

Visiting my daughter in the NICU - Addah's Birth Story

Lakin Leigh – The Birth Story of My Oldest Daughter

Lakin Leigh - The Birth Story of My Oldest Daughter

Lakin Leigh was born by cesarean section on July 16 at 10:55 pm after a very prolonged and non-progressing labor. She is absolutely beautiful!! She weighed 5 lbs. 14 oz. at birth and was 18 3/4 inches long. She’s my tiny perfect little fairy baby! I just got home from the hospital tonight and I am working on uploading pictures but I have to go catch up on some sleep first.

The Birth Story of My Oldest Daughter:

Just after midnight last Saturday I started having contractions that were about 2-3 minutes apart and lasting about 20-30 seconds each but they weren’t really painful, and in fact some of them were hardly noticeable. The contractions continued throughout the night and stayed consistently at 2-3 minutes apart even when I walked around and took a shower. I was pretty sure that this was “it” but I wasn’t ready to go to the hospital yet since part of me was still expecting the contractions to just quit like they have for weeks now.
They remained consistent through the entire weekend, never getting more intense but getting to be very uncomfortable. I got very little sleep on Saturday and Sunday nights because I kept waking up contracting. I had a doctor’s appointment at 9 am on Monday morning and my husband kept saying that maybe the doctor would keep me since I had been contracting all weekend. I was skeptical, based on past experience with this doctor, and was working myself into a very depressed state by Sunday night, convinced that I would just keep mildly contracting forever and never progressing. I was getting pretty upset, to be honest.
{Note that my first due date, based on my LMP, was June 30. At the anatomy scan ultrasound, my due date was changed to August 4, a difference of almost 5 weeks! So when she was born, the hospital recorded her as 37 weeks gestation, while in my mind, she was 2 weeks overdue. Based on her birth weight, the doctors were correct… but I couldn’t be convinced of that for a very long time.}
So we went in on Monday morning and my doctor did an internal. I was 4.5 cm and 75% effaced. He said, “well a little pitocin would probably help that along”, and I thought, “yay! I get a date to be induced!” Then the doctor said, “so you just head on to the hospital and I’ll call and tell them you’re coming”. I just stared at him, unbelieving that this was for real and I was going to finally have my baby.
We headed to the hospital and called our families on the way. I got there at 9:35 am, got my labor room assignment and at 10:55 am, my doctor came in and broke my water. After an hour I still had not progressed past 4.5 cm so I was started on pitocin. Every hour or so the nurses would come in and check me but my contractions weren’t getting much worse and I wasn’t dilating more, so they kept upping the dose of pitocin. The contractions were wearing me out by now because I’d had so little sleep, so I asked for some medication. The nurse brought Stadol and Phenergen. I don’t know what she did but when she started injecting that into my IV it burned so badly, I almost screamed. I think she may have injected it too quickly or too close to my arm, but it managed to bruise my vein pretty badly.
At about 4 pm the contractions started getting much more painful so I asked for an epidural. I have to say that getting the epidural was the worst part of the whole experience, mainly because the most sensitive spot on my body is the exact spot where the epi goes.
At 8 pm the pitocin dose was at the maximum and I was STILL at 4.5 cm… and the doctor said that if I didn’t make some progress within an hour he wanted to do a c-section. He said that I was having contractions that were strong enough and close enough together that I should be dilating but that the baby’s head either was too big and wasn’t engaging properly or it was positioned oddly. By now the thought of a c-section didn’t really bother me. I was tired and worried and frustrated and I just wanted my baby.
At 10 pm, I was wheeled into the OR and prepped and my epidural was turned up so that I was numb from the chest down. My husband sat by my head and held my hand. All I could feel was a weird pulling and tugging sensation, nothing bad. At 10:55 pm, exactly 12 hours from when my water was broken, Lakin Leigh was born. My husband stood up and watched as she was pulled out and she immediately started screaming. The nurse brought her to my husband to hold and I touched her face and hands as they stitched me up. My first thought when I saw her was “oh my god she is perfect”… and she is. She weighed 5 lbs. 14 oz. and was 18 3/4 inches long, a tiny little thing. She has reddish brown hair and blue eyes like I do, but she looks like the spitting image of her daddy.
I was in recovery for an hour and a half and then I was taken to my room, where I got to hold Lakie for the first time. We had a little trouble breastfeeding at first but we worked with the lactation consultant and now she nurses perfectly. Her daddy just grins from ear to ear every time he sees her, he is the proudest daddy I’ve ever seen. Every single person who has seen Lakie has commented on how pretty she is. She is very quiet and alert, watching everything, and she’s very strong, already able to hold her head up pretty well.
We were in the hospital for 4 days and came home tonight. I am told that my incision is “beautiful” and although the first couple of days were rough, I am feeling pretty good now. Very little pain but it is hard to walk much and stairs are impossible for now. My husband has taken a week off of work though so that will help a lot.
I have to say that I am just the happiest now that I have ever been in my life, happier and prouder than I thought possible. I find it nearly impossible to take my eyes off of Lakie and catch myself just watching her and smiling.
Lakin Leigh - The Birth Story of My Oldest Daughter