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Tuesday, January 6, 2015

...Gianna Marie...



Can anyone tell you what it is like to add to your family? I stressed about the transition from one to two. Would I love her enough? Would I love Gabe enough?
She has taught me so much.
 . . .
 
. . .
 
Gianna Marie, this is your story.
 
 My Doctor assured me there was no way I would make it past 37 weeks. I stopped running at 34 weeks due to contractions as he was concerned I would deliver you earlier than your brother. Each week ticked by, slowly. I had the same prodromal labor that I had with your brother. Contractions every few minutes that lasted a minute or longer, for weeks.
 
Nothing.
 
Your Nana said I would wait until she arrived. She was right. She arrived on September 6th, 2014. We got back the house around five thirty. That evening, we discussed making a plan the next day as my Doctor really wanted to induce me on Monday due to my short labor with Gabe and our hour drive to the hospital. We went back and forth about induction, but I was ready.
 
We went to bed around 10PM and the contractions picked up, as they did every evening. I woke Steve at midnight and we timed them as I paced until three. He dozed off and on from then until 530 AM. I finally told him I was going to take a shower to see if they picked up. I new we had an hour drive a head of us. He woke up Nana and got me something to eat. I was out and dressed by about 6AM. I went downstairs and talked with Nana for a few minutes trying to decide if we should go in. The contractions were sporadic. Two minutes. Fourteen minutes. Eight minutes.
 
Steve went up to shower as we figured we would head in about 8AM. I remember walking around the fridge in the kitchen and saying, "We are in trouble." We scrambled (as fast as that sounds when pregnant) to get to the car and I mumbled, "We should have left hours ago!"
 
We left at about 645 AM. Steve squealed the tires as we left. I don't recommend laboring in a car. Ever. We called the hospital and my OB. They both new how quickly my labor might last. The car ride was miserable. We were about twenty minutes away and everything started changing. I was really afraid of delivering in the car.
 
One thing "they" stress is, make sure you know where you are going when you get to the hospital. Oops. We got lost. We called the receptionist and at this point I was not patient. We made it in 46 minutes. Steve dropped me off at the front and I barreled toward the door. Stopping every so often for a contraction.
 
Why is L/D always up a few floors. We arrived to the third floor and the nurse handed me a stack of papers. I mumbled, made a line for my name. She started to tell me I needed to fill it all out. I glared, turned, and said get me a room. They checked me into triage (735 AM) and wanted to place an IV, do fetal monitoring, and whatever else. I kept telling them they didn't have time, no IV, get my Dr. and get me a room.
 
The intern checked me..."I don't know an 8??" He asked me if my water had broken. No. The nurse was super concerned about no fetal monitoring yet. He agreed and said, no time, get her a room. I booked it down the hospital (not the discussed 50 ft...) dragging the cords behind me.
 
I made it to the middle of the delivery room. 750AM. Dr. Fleming arrived in Mass clothes and asked if he had time to change.
I believe I said something to the effect of: "No. Fleming. I am pushing."
I am not that polite during labor.
He convinced me to have one more contraction as I need to get to a bed. The staff was incredibly unprepared. The bed wasn't ready. They were SO! CONCERNED! about not obtaining 20 minutes of fetal monitoring.
Dr. Fleming looks at Stressed Nurse #1 and says, "You can monitor her after she is born."
 
751AM. Complete and told to push.
Your cord was wrapped around your neck (thank God we made it).
 
801.
 
You were born. 7lbs. 20 inches. Beautiful head of black hair.
 
And once again....my life changed for ever.
 


 
 
 



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