Baby G's Birth Story: Part 2

I realize, in order to get everything out there, this is going to be at least three parts. Today I am posting Part 2 of Baby G's birth story, which is focusing on the day after his birth.

To pick up where I left off, the nurses weighed and measured Baby G and someone mentioned testing him for infection.

Apparently I had developed a fever while I was in labor. The OB responded in the affirmative, telling me it was standard procedure sine I had the fever. They wanted to make sure Baby G didn't catch something on his way out.

I got a second degree tear as I was pushing (I think it was the push that resulted in Baby G's head coming out... It was a forceful push and no one was ready for the head to come out). As the doctor stitched me up she mentioned it was a good thing I had Baby G when I did; the cord was wrapped around his neck twice. I didn't think the cord being wrapped around the neck was a huge deal, but my doctor made it sound like I was extremely lucky nothing bad had happened (and I had an inkling this had occurred a couple weeks before I gave birth, but that is a detail I will go into in another post).

Hubby took pictures of Baby G, who was being called Baby Boy Last Name because at that point we still didn't have a name for him.

The nurses cleared out, the doctor confirmed we wanted a circumcision done and said she would see us in the morning.

I have never liked holding babies. I got yelled at a few times when I was little because I wasn't holding babies correctly. This scarred me and I would much rather admire from a short distance. This is how I felt when Baby G was cleaned, swaddled and ready to be held.

"You can hold him," I told Hubby.

I was too nervous to hold my own baby. And too exhausted. I had only had four hours of decent sleep up until that point. I had been up for over 24 hours; what dozing I had done during labor really didn't help anything. I desperately wanted to sleep.

A new nurse came in and started cleaning up the room. She gave me options on what to eat for dinner. I chose a chicken salad sandwich, which she brought to me promptly.

I heard that two things are amazing after giving birth: your first meal and your first shower.

I was disappointed. My dinner was just okay. I think I pouted a little, thinking that the graham crackers and apple juice I had received after my D&C were much more satisfying than this more substantial meal that had been placed in front of me.

When I finished eating the nurse suggested I try breast feeding. She put Baby G on my chest, and said I could hold him a moment while she finished doing something.

That is when Baby G took me my surprise and did what I had only seen on a video in my natural childbirth class. He lifted his head up and looked at me with wide, dark eyes, his forehead scrunched up as if he was worried about something. Then he crawled, shakily, to my left boob and latched on.

I wasn't expecting that at all. I thought I was going to have to be given lots of instruction on how to hold him and how to get him to latch. The image of him holding his head up and gazing at me is really the first, clear image I have of him.

The nurse praised him for latching on correctly. She explained what a correct latch looked like and told me that I could press the part of the breast by his nose he could breathe better, a tip that has come in handy multiple times since Baby G has a near-constant stuffy nose.

After some feeding time the nurse wheeled me into my recovery. A new nurse and her assistant came in to the room to introduce themselves. They asked what medicines I took on a regular basis. I told them calcium, iron, and prenatal vitamins. Then the nurse, in a heavy accent, explained the workings of the room and some paperwork she left on the table. I only half listened; all I could think of was sleeping, and it was difficult to understand her.

The nurse left and her assistant, a Russian sounding woman, stayed to take my blood pressure and help me to the bathroom because I had to pee. I could walk myself, albeit shakily, but she helped me onto the toilet nonetheless.

While I was peeing she explained the super huge pad and ice pack pads to me. I wasn't paying too much attention because I felt some kind of warm, squishy mass fall out of me.

I was peeing into some kind of bucket that was hooked onto the toilet. When I was done I could just barely make out a big red mass (a clot) sitting at the bottom, as it looked like I had peed blood.

"Normal, but let us know if you pass another," the assistant said.

I wanted her to stay in my room ad tell me stories in her accent to lull me to sleep. But she helped me back to the bed, dumped the bucket I had peed in, then flushed the toilet and told me to page if I felt I needed help going to the bathroom again.

Hubby was going through our bags and unfolding the chair into a bed. I stared at Baby G and struggled with my decision to put him in the nursery for the night. I felt horrible, like I was a terrible person and abandoning this little person after a few hours. But I knew I needed sleep and I wasn't going to get it if he was waking every few hours.

The nurse came in and asked me a question. Unfortunately, since she didn't speak very good English I didn't understand her at all. It took Hubby and I about 5 tries before he understood she wanted to know how much calcium I took each day. I had no idea what dosage I took. And I was irritated at all the questions and information being thrown at me. I was tired. All I wants was to sleep. Couldn't some of this stuff wait until morning?

We told her we wanted Baby G to stay in the nursery so she got another nurse to pick him up. If I hadn't been so tired I would have cried over him leaving.

It was midnight by then and Hubby and I were trying to figure out when family could come visit. Honestly, I didn't want them to. I could tell the next couple days would be hectic: Baby G had his circumcision at 7:30 that morning then I had a breast feeding class at 10. And a doctor would come at some point to do a routine check up on Baby G.

Hubby emailed both sets of parents and told them to come in the morning, telling me if Baby G wasn't here he wasn't here. I knew that wouldn't sit well with his mom.

Then the next order of business: Baby G needed a name. I wasn't allowing visitors until we had one. The last thing I wanted was for people to say, "Oh he looks like a (put name I hate here). Name him that!"

The night before we were told I was going to be induced, Hubby made me write a list of names I liked. I went through every single boys name in the name book I borrowed from the library and came up with about 15 names.

Hubby chose the first name. It was the name I added to the list on a whim.

I an not a fan of family names. At least not the ones in our families, and Hubby's side has multiple relatives with the same name. I wanted something more unique. However; I really liked my Grandpa's name and he was the only grandparent I was close to growing up, mainly because he was the only one I ever saw.

So we chose my Grandpa's name as Baby G's middle name (although, it was really me who chose it. I told Hubby before we started trying to conceive that I wanted this to be our first boy's middle name).


I love Baby G's name and I hope he does too when he is older.

With the name settled we were able to go to bed. But it's a joke if you thought I got any sleep.

Baby G was brought to me to nurse a couple of hours after I first fell asleep. Since the nurses have to match every one's wrist bands they had to turn on a light. I can't remember how nursing went, just that I was nervous about doing it without help. Baby G was taken back to the nursery and I believe one of my nurses came in to check on me. I fell asleep again and another nurse came in looking for Baby G because she needed to run some tests on him. I had to direct her to the nursery. At about 7am Baby G was brought to me again to nurse; however, he was sleeping and he was due to have his circumcision at 7:30am. I didn't feel like I had enough time to nurse him and spent too much time trying to decide what to do. 7:30 came and a nurse arrived to take Baby G away for his surgery. I made Hubby go with them; I couldn't bear the thought of Baby G going through that by himself.

I took the time to shower. This resulted in my third disappointment in less than 24 hours. I had always heard your first shower was awesome. Mine sucked.

I couldn't bend over to shave, nor could I lift my leg up due to the stitches I had. The shower head was low, there was a seat that I couldn't bring myself to sit on and the water pressure wasn't all that great. I felt cold, unshaven, and gross afterwards and felt like I shouldn't have bothered.

I ordered breakfast, which was just okay. In fact, I think my biggest complaint was that there wasn't enough of it. I was starving.

There was a shift change and I got a new nurse and nurse's assistant. And ohmygoodness were they awesome!

The told me that the hospital pediatrician was going to stop by at 11:30 to take Baby G for his first check up and the assistant took my vitals again.

Hubby came back with Baby G and I was happy to tell him about our new nurse. I asked how Baby  G took his surgery and he told me that Baby G slept through it!

I felt I should try and feed Baby G, but he was still asleep. My parents had shown up anyway. It was a visit which resulted in tears from both my parents. My mom because she was so happy to see her grandchild (for some reason she thought she wouldn't live to see them) and my dad because Baby G's middle name was his dad's.

The visit was short, in part because I was tired and they understood I needed to rest, and also because it was just about time for me to go to my breastfeeding class. They said goodbye and we told them they could visit again the next day.

I had to walk to my breastfeeding class. A nurse led the way as I wheeled Baby G to a small, dimly lit room. It was strange walking more than five feet. I didn't realize just how sore my lady parts were until then. I felt like I was walking around like Frankenstein.

I parked Baby G's bassinet outside the room and a lactation consultant carried him in for me. Thank goodness, because I really wasn't comfortable holding him yet.

The class was pointless and I was irritated I had wasted my time with it. I thought we'd be shown how to hold our babies in various breast feeding positions. No. We got a lecture on why breast is best; the same one I had received in the breastfeeding class almost two months earlier. I sat through the class terrified that Baby G would wake up and start crying; I wouldn't know what to do. I also came close to falling asleep several times.

After an hour we were told the class was over but we had the option of staying and getting help with positions. But by that time it was getting close to when Baby G would have to have his first check up. Since he was still sleeping I decided to head back to my room; figuring I could page a lactation consultant later.

When I got back to the room Hubby's parents were there. His mom oohed and ahhed over Baby G, insisted on a picture, which Hubby took with his phone, and told him he needed to email it to her. Apparently they had run into my parents on the way in and were waiting the last hour for Baby G and I to get out of class. Their visit was cut short because the pediatrician came to get Baby G. Hubby's parents said they'd be back later that afternoon to visit some more. I didn't want visitors, but obliged, feeling bad their visit was cut short.

As we waited for Baby G to come back, we ordered lunch -- which actually was good -- and went through the paperwork the night nurse gave to us the night before.

Baby G came back and I decided he had gone long enough without food, so my nurse paged a lactation consultant.

It was a fiasco. Baby G was crying because he was awake and hungry. The consultant, instead of showing me how to bring Baby G to the breast, was grabbing his head and shoving him into my boob. This resulted in more crying from Baby G and annoyance from me because I didn't think shoving the baby to the boob was part of the experience.

While this was going on we had two more visitors: a woman from food services, who wanted to know how I was liking the food and the service; and a man from financial services. I spoke to the woman from behind a curtain, but the lactation consultant sent the man away.

After we decided Baby G had had enough, my sister wanted to know when she could visit, stating she could only do so between a certain time, which, unfortunately, was the floor's "Quiet Hours" in which only parents and grandparents were allowed on the floor. But, since she wanted to see Baby G I told her she could come at the start of the hours.

She arrived just as I was in the middle of another feeding session, which luckily wasn't as traumatic as the one before that and I was able to do it without the help of a lactation consultant.

Hubby's parents arrived about fifteen minutes later. Baby G had fallen back asleep so we had put him in his bassinet. Hubby's mom, not wanting to bother him since he was sleeping, seemed disappointed she couldn't hold him again.

It was a full room, so my sister left. But pretty much as soon as she left, the pediatrician came in and asked to speak with Hubby. I didn't think it was a good sign that she was pulling him out of the room. His parents decided to follow him out and take their leave.

It turned out Baby G did have some kind of infection and he was jaundiced. They were going to put him under the bili lights, but to treat the infection he was going to need an IV and they couldn't do that in the nursery. So Baby G was going to be taken to the NICU.

A nurse came to get him within the hour and we were told we'd have to wait until he was settled in the NICU before we could be with him. This took several hours and in the mean time my brother, Hubby's brother and his sister all wanted to know if they could visit after work. We told them yes, but we weren't sure what was happening with Baby G.

It was a couple of hours before my nurse came in to take us to the NICU. She prepped me, explained that Baby G was under the lights and would be blindfolded and he had an IV in his hand and was attached to monitors. She said she wanted to make sure I knew what I was going to see so I wouldn't cry, but I probably would cry because it's hard seeing your baby like that.

It was a long, awkward walk to the NICU. Long only because it was still difficult to walk. We had to pass through two security doors and wash our hands before entering Baby G's room.

It was dark except for the table Baby G was laying on. I touched his hand; I didn't know what I was allowed to do with him. I didn't cry, although I felt a wave of sadness crash over me. Him being under the Bili lights didn't bother me; I was jaundiced as a baby and I knew it was common. I was just sad that whatever was wrong with me during labor had affected him.

We sat with Baby G and was introduced to his nurse who explained what he was hooked up to and why. He was being given antibiotics through his IV and would have a couple of more tests in the next day or two to see if his CBC and Bili levels went down.

I tried nursing Baby G, but it was awkward with the wires. He also wasn't interested in eating because of all the medicines he had been given that day. He just wanted to sleep and was upset when I tried to nurse him. I was frustrated. He was frustrated. A lot of tears ensued.

We were told he would be given formula on a 4 hour schedule. This made me extremely upset. I wanted nothing to do with formula. I was told I could pump and they would give him whatever I could bring to them. This made me feel better, but not by much.

The rest of our siblings arrived, pretty much at the same time. All they could do was stand and look at Baby G. I really wasn't up for having visitors and wanted to shoo them away.

Their visit resulted in me missing the deadline to order dinner. By 9pm I was starving. It was still another hour before Hubby went out to get us some food. It was cold by the time he brought it back. I was tired, irritated, and hungry. Not a good combination.

While I waited for Hubby to bring back food, my night nurse brought me a pump and I started pumping. I knew I wouldn't be able to produce a whole lot, but I was still disappointed in the tiny amount of colostrum I pumped into the bottles. The nurse brought me a syringe to put the milk in to give to Baby G's nurses the next day.

*My, I really have a lot to get out. Stay tuned for part 3!*