Finley

So I realize I never posted about Finley's birth. Maybe because she's the third child, and maybe because it was a c-section and I was so drugged I don't remember a thing. Either way I will try to make something up recall the details now.


So Finley's story really starts a few weeks before she is born. In one of my late ultrasounds it was discovered that Finley had short femurs ( I was 36 weeks, but her femurs measured at 32 weeks), which can be a marker for downs, but she had no other markers so I put it out of my mind. At that appointment they were so concerned about her legs that the fact that she was breech was overlooked. So at my next appointment they told me that she was breech and I had only 2 weeks to try to flip her naturally before we would have to discuss other options. So home I went. I spent 2 weeks upside down, I had a huge headache, but if I could save myself from a c-section it would all be worth it. 

The morning of my appointment she got the hiccups and I felt them way up in my ribs, so, no flip. Then I saw on the ultrasound that she was still breech and also she was so high up in my ribs that her nose was all smashed on the ultrasound. Fantastic. 

So I scheduled my External Cephalic Version for a Thursday afternoon and an ultrasound for the Tuesday before to see if maybe by some miracle she would flip on her own and save me a trip to the hospital, no such luck. So on Thursday, December 22 I went to the hospital to be manhandled by a doctor. Now for those of you who aren't familiar with the version procedure I will save you the google. Basically it's a procedure for the lucky moms with the stubborn babies. You willingly check yourself into the hospital, they hook you up to an IV, clear an operating room in case you go into labor and have to have an emergency c-section, and then shoot you up with some speed while they push on your belly to turn the baby. Maybe it wasn't actually speed, but it definitely made me feel like I could lift a car, I was hooked up to lots of machines and an IV and wasn't able to test it, but I'm sure I could have. I feel like that description raised more questions then it answered, my apologies.


So after they drug you they poor oil all over your belly and push and pull and knead your belly until your child turns. Finley refused. They said usually the baby's heart rate will speed up to show that they are annoyed by whats happening, not Finley, she remained cool as a cucumber, she's so strong. During this time I realized that I had given her too sassy of a name, "a Susan would never behave like this" I muttered to myself. Turns out I wasn't muttering to myself and the doctor laughed and told me that her name was Susan. She confirmed that she was head down as a fetus so my theory was right. At this point I decided to add a little more incentive to the situation, I offered to name my baby Susan if she could get her to flip. I really feel like this helped, she tried again with a new determination. The problem that we had was Finley was hiding her head up under my ribs so when they would push her she would move and hit my lowest rib and get stuck. So the doctor tried to pry her out of my ribs by clawing at my stomach and trying to pull her down. She tried for 45 minutes without any luck and then called a second doctor to come and try because he had bigger hands and a better turning record. Clearly she really wanted my baby named after her. Now I think it is worth mentioning that in the room it was myself, a female nurse, my female midwife, a female doctor, and the man who put me in this awful position, also known as my husband. There was a strong, man hater vibe in that room, I was the only one putting it out there, but it was felt by all. So the big handed doctor arrived, they told him everything they had tried and I could see on his face that he didn't know why they called him since this baby was clearly the most strong willed fetus known to man (men. Ugh.), but he greased up and tried (I think halfheartedly) to turn my baby. No luck. So he left. Of course it didn't work, if a woman couldn't do it, the man didn't even stand a chance.


A couple days after Christmas I went back in to schedule my c-section, the first day they offered was December 29th, Brisa's birthday. She had already told us under no uncertain terms that the baby was not to be born on her birthday, so I was left with the only other date available January 3rd, a Tuesday, what a lovely day for a baby. So January 2nd rolls around and I decide that this would be a good time to go out and get all my hospital supplies and pack my hospital bag. I really love procrastination, and I love putting off packing the hospital bag, there is nothing quite like the feeling you get when you get some Braxton Hicks and don't have your bag packed. The rush. The fear. The shame. The relief that its not real labor and you still don't have to pack the hospital bag, sublime.


January 3rd, D-Day. I woke up at 5:30 to get to the hospital at 6. I was grumpy, I hate mornings. So they checked me in, I gowned up and she placed my IV and then she lifted my gown to put on the baby heart rate monitor and the nurse looked concerned. My belly was still covered in bruises and claw marks. I explained that I had been abused, but it was OK because I paid them to do it and they gave me speed. Then she left and Chad suited up for surgery.

Fast forward to the operating room with a new nurse:

Me: "Chad, don't look at my butt"

Nurse: I'm sure he's seen it before"

Me: You can't prove that.

Nurse: Are you an organ donor?

Me: Yes, but I know how many kidneys I walked in here with, so don't even think about it.

Nurse: That would be a completely different surgery.

Me: I know, it was a joke.

We just clicked right away, I wonder what she's up to... hmm...

So they drugged me, cut my baby out and whisked her away, but not in a traumatizing way. I found out later that I wasn't able to hold her because she was purple and had some trouble breathing and had to be taken away so the nurses could work on her while I got stitched up/played would you rather with my midwife. Clearly I take childbirth and motherhood super seriously. The children ARE our future after all. So after I was all stitched up they put a bunch of warm blankets on me and wheeled me back to my room. Chad was in there with Finley, she was perfect, he tried to hand her to me, but I was shaking too much to hold her, it was heart breaking, but he laid her on me and I could smell that perfect baby smell, its like crack for new moms. When I was finally able to hold her she started rooting around to eat, and she was not subtle. So I nursed her and she latched right away, it didn't hurt at all, it was weird, I think she was such an awful tenant that she realized she had better be a perfect roommate if she wanted to stay. 

About an hour later they came back to take me to the maternity wing. The nurse was an awful driver and with every bump and run in with the wall I felt intense pain in my abdomen. I can't stress enough how much I loved this woman, we are talking life long friends here. So there I was in my new room, she pressed hard on my tummy to get any clots out, then we said our goodbyes, and she went home (I assume, to kick puppies). In came my new nurse.

Nurse: Have you been passing gas?

Me: yes, I'm sorry I can't control it, I still can't really feel my legs.

Nurse: No, that's a great sign! And really impressive!

Finally someone who appreciates my talents. Later that night I was doing so well that she took out my catheter and told me that I had to pee twice in the next 12 hours or it would have to be put back in, that was all the motivation I needed, so off to the bathroom I went with the help of 2 nurses (Chad had gone home to put the big kids to bed). They had to measure my urine and I filled up the whole container they were impressed. This whole time I didn't have Finley with me because I was alone and couldn't pick her up from the bassinet without help so she was in the nursery. So I just sat there alone drinking tons water, and eating a delicious chicken ceasar salad. I had 4 of them while I was there, it was delicious. and 30 minutes later I had to pee again and and I filled the cup again and my first assignment was checked off my list.


Wednesday morning comes and they tell me my next mission, walking. I have done everything on the go home check list and so once I complete 4 laps around the floor I can leave. Game on. So I ask Chad to help me get up because I have to go to the bathroom, and I realize that all of the morphine they had given me has completely worn off, so much pain! I was shaking and couldn't even talk, I barely made it to the bathroom, so Chad called the nurse so I could get some more pain meds, they helped and so I decided to take a shower because if I am going to be walking around the halls, I'm going to have clean hair. So off I go to the shower, and it hurts, but I'm tough so I keep going, I look down and see I've passed a huge clot, oh well I just have to rinse my hair and then I'll get out and tell the nurse, then I pass out. I called for Chad, but he had fallen asleep and couldn't hear me. So I stood up all on my own (so much pain) turned off the shower then yelled for him again and he walked in, saw me and called the nurse (narc, I want to go home!) they help me to my bed, I lay down, drink water, and eat some crackers, then move to the couch so the nurse can change my wet bedding, and the bed breaks, it wont go up or down. so I have to get in to a bed that is all the way up. I'm 5'3" and have just had major abdominal surgery, it was awful. But eventually I get up and walk. 4 times. It was excruciating!


Thursday at around noon the doctor who preformed my surgery came and did an exam and told me I could go home! I was thrilled, I could finally go home and see my big babies, I missed them so much! We didn't tell them we were coming so we just came in and surprised them, they were so excited, I sat down on the couch and waited for the hugs, turns out they just wanted to see the baby. Whatever. 

The next two weeks were a drugged up blur. One of my medications made me fall asleep. It took me a while to figure out why I would be sitting talking and then just fall asleep. I accidentally deleted Facebook off my phone because I fell asleep with my thumb on my phone before I even opened the app, it was a wild ride. Chad had just started a new job and didn't have any time off to help me so after my mom left I was on my own, so naturally on the night before she left Carson started throwing up. So I was home, all alone, 2 weeks after a c-section with 3 kids, what could possibly go wrong? I'll tell you what, I had to get Carson out of his crib because he was sick and crying and he wouldn't let Brisa help him and I ripped my stitches open. It was gross, they couldn't stitch it closed again so I just had to cover it with band aids, I had band aids holding my stomach closed! It worked, but my scar is hideous now because of all the ripped parts, but such is life. The baby is perfect and she's the happiest little baby that I have ever seen. I love her so much! She's got short femurs, a perfectly round c-section head, and all of my love.