January 7, 2015
10:22 p.m.
It has been a busy few days. I suppose it's time to catch you up.
When last I checked in, my daughter was checked in to the hospital for balloon dilation in hopes of inducing her labor without drugs. I had come back to her place to try to get some sleep.
Well, big surprise (not): that didn't happen. I didn't sleep a wink.
I was back at the hospital before 6 a.m. They had removed the balloon devise at 3:30, saying the baby "didn't like it." My red flag went up.
Nevertheless, they went ahead and introduced labor inducing drugs. While my daughter had been having contractions all night, things had not progressed as hoped; now her contractions were getting stronger and more regular, but I was aware that with each one, the baby's heart rate would drop, then recover.
This sort of rate drop and recovery I've seen time and again during the late stages of labor, but not when the mother has only dilated to one-and-a-half centimeters. I remained outwardly nonchalant, but inside I was getting worried.
You see, my daughter had developed gestational diabetes in the last few months of her pregnancy, and it can cause some serious complications. She managed very well to control her blood sugar through diet and exercise, and the baby had not become excessively large as often happens, but there are always concerns.
I was really keeping my eye on the monitor during contractions, and waiting for someone to come in and call for a change of plans.
It wasn't a very long wait. A nurse came in and removed the drip line feeding the labor-inducing drug. She quickly left the room and another came in and told us that the doctor was coming in to explain why they were stopping labor. Then the first nurse motioned the second nurse to come out into the hall, and she said, "Hold that thought," and left the room.
Well, my daughter and her husband were bewildered. I had already anticipated and expected this, so I told them, "I know you don't want to hear this, but you need to prepare yourself for being told that this is going to be a cesarean birth."
"But I don't want a cesarean!" my daughter wailed.
"It doesn't matter what you want," I explained. "It only matters what you and the baby need."
"Do I have to?"
"I'm pretty sure that's what your doctor is coming to tell you."
"AW!"
Sure enough, in came the doctor--a pretty, petite blond with a wide open friendly smile--who proceeded to explain what was happening, why it wasn't working out, and what the new plan was.
Gestational Diabetes can cause the placenta--baby's nine-month home--to age prematurely. This weakens the organ's walls so that when it contracts to squeeze the baby out, it fails to do its job well.
The cervix doesn't dilate, the baby doesn't move down the birth canal, and labor goes on and on without progressing, eventually leading to fetal heart distress and an emergency run to the operating room for a C-section. The doctor's plan: skip all the distress of hours of waiting for the probability of
the same outcome, and go straight away to the OR.
Within minutes, they were on their way.
Now, I admit wholeheartedly that I was disappointed. I love being witness to the miracle of birth. Added to that, the doctor told me that per policy, if two people went to the OR to witness the procedure, mother and baby would not be able to have immediate skin-to-skin contact, but would have to wait until they were back in their room. Far be it for me to deny my daughter that experience, or even think of her husband not being in the room with her. I waved good-bye to them as they wheeled her out the door.
Due to her new status as an OR patient, she would be changing rooms. I got a cart, packed up all our goodies and moved everything to the new room. Then I WAITED. Ugh.
8:22 a.m. and I was a grandmother for the eighth time.
It doesn't matter how they're delivered, as long as they arrive safely. She is beautiful and healthy and we could never ask for more.
The doctor came and spoke with me, saying that the placenta had indeed been incredibly aged. Great call, doctor!
The rest of the day was hectic, with numerous tests, visitors, phone calls, etc.
The baby proved to be a willing and quick-learning nurser, and proceeded to eat the day away.
By the time I came home, all I wanted to do was spoil the dogs a little and go to bed.
After all that not-sleeping, I fell asleep easily--and woke up two hours later. I managed to go back to sleep for almost two more hours, so come three a.m. I was up. Bummer.
Yesterday the baby and her mama mostly wanted to sleep, but Mama did some walking and got a shower.
Today was a quiet day, and tomorrow they get to come home! That's exciting, right?
My daughter has a good man. He spent his day off shampooing the carpets and getting the house ready for wife and daughter to come home. I'm really proud of him.
Big sister and big brother sure love their new sister. I can't wait for all the noise to commence tomorrow afternoon. Right now it's just me and the dogs. (Who I have apparently spoiled rotten!)
I'm feeling quite blessed tonight, and I fully intend to sleep late tomorrow. Good night!
