Okay, so this posting has to be about my experience with breastfeeding because that is really the only issue right now. When the baby cries, it's one of three things...diaper, burp, or feed. I think we have that down. It's just, it's the feeding thing that has made me a crazy mess for the past two weeks.
First of all, she lost weight from the freak out visit to the doc to her next visit four days later--four ounces, which to us seemed exponential. We were assured at the doc to keep trying to breastfeed, that we were doing okay, not to give up, blah blah blah. SO, we went home that night and she cried...and cried and cried bloody murder. Which made me cry and cry, and d-man was on the verge. So, we gave her formula because I tried to feed her for like two hours and there was nothing in there to give! She slept, she was good. She was fed. I called the lactation consultant the following day.
I knew that breastfeeding was going to be a challenge for me. We had talked about it. BUT, my challenge was going to be feeding her as often as I had to, pumping at work and storing milk. I hadn't even imagined that there could be something else, like not having enough. The books say that it is common to think that you don't have enough milk. In fact, the nurse at the pediatrician, friends, sisters of friends, my MIL, everyone said that my milk would come in and I'd feel it. I have yet to feel anything but a couple of hard spots, I guess you could say. I have also read that PCOS who have babies have like a 33% chance of having a low milk supply. That's a lot, I think. I don't know why I thought that wouldn't relate to me. I read too much about normal people...ever since the pregnancy became normal, I forgot that I wasn't. Well, it's come back with a vengeance now. Of course, I don't REALLY know if that is what is causing this, but it's a pretty good guess.
So, anyway...we met with the lactation consultant (LC) the day before she turned two weeks. She looked at the baby, at her latch, at how I was feeding her, etc. She dismissed the doctors, of course, and gave us a plan. I was to supplement (already was, of course), but with breastmilk if I had it, formula, if I didn't. I was then supposed to nurse her and then pump to get the milk supply to come in or up. SO, every 2-3 hours I gave her some breastmilk, nursed as long as she would, give her more supplement, then pump with a hospital grade pump. We rented the pump ($150), paid the LC ($130), bought organic formula and went for it. By we, I mean really me....
At first, I bawled my eyes out while pumping. I kept thinking how worried I was about other people (re:MIL) not watching out for her by putting her in the sun too much or if other people were manhandling her....but then I sat there thinking how I was the one hurting her. It was rough, and I am sure my raging hormones didn't help anything. Poor d-man didn't know what to do. Then, as the week progressed...and my mom came out to help...it was more disappointment than anything else. I was getting an ounce or a bit more each time-from both breasts with a super pump. It was 8-10 ounces, which WAS a third of her food at least, but the pumping with this thing hurts and doing it so much is really grading on me.
I talked to the LC throughout the week and she came by a week later to see how things were. Well, the baby DID gain 10 ounces and was almost to her birthweight at her two week appointment. We were super excited about that. So, now the baby was fine. I wasn't, but she was so that made us able to exhale a bit. At the meeting with the LC, she agreed that I probably wasn't going to make much more. I could try drugs. I was already taking herbs, but the drugs scare me a bit. D-man was on these same drugs for what they are FDA approved for (gastro issues) and I was debating using them for what the side-effect is (milk production). Would that have worked? I don't know. For some it does, for some it doesn't. No way to tell about the future effects on the baby....and I really don't want to take that chance. That being the case, we've decided to stop.
It was hard, but at the same time, not really. I feel confident about our decision, even though I know d-man really wanted her to be nursed for six months. I wanted to do what was best for her, but I really think that I am now. I mean if I am struggling, she'll know that. She is getting six weeks (after a long weaning) of breastmilk at some level. I'm still upset about it, but in the grand scheme of things, it's okay. I was formula-fed and I think I turned out pretty well. We are getting the good organic formula and she seems to be fine taking it.
Part of this is the overwhelming pressure I feel from everyone...books, relatives, friends..to nurse. I worry that people will think I am not doing enough because, yes, there is more I could try. The LC is supportive because she knows what it is like to pump all the time. I was never really excited to be pumping the little I thought I was going to so this is tough. I need to get over it. I know people are trying to be helpful by offering advice of my next step, but moving on to formula feeding IS our next step. I've also read that a happy mommy=a happy baby and I believe that as well. I will always feel like I failed, like my body again didn't do what it was supposed to, but again, we have a healthy baby, and that's all that matters.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
first week home score: baby-1 mommy and daddy-0
I am completely exhausted right now. When the books say don't clean and leave the laundry...really, they mean it. I mean the bathtub looks amazing, but probably not worth it. Today is the two week mark, not of her birth, but of my going into labor. I should have realized that the labor was the easy part. I mean, I knew that the first week...well, almost two...were going to be hard, but this is ridiculous.
I'm wondering what it is like for those who do not attempt to breastfeed. I think that getting up to feed, even though if the baby is anything like my daughter, she'll fight getting up, isn't as hard when you can switch off who does it, and the food is dependent on mixing it, not making it. I knew that nursing was going to suck (no pun intended) but I didn't realize how much and why during this first couple of weeks. First of all, the books say it's easy. Everything says it's the best, which is why I am doing it...not for me or any crazy "I love to see the baby suckling" thing...it's all for her. I should just "get it" and so should she. Doctors say otherwise, that we are both learning. I think that is obvious. The other issue is the actual milk. It ain't exactly flowing...and everyone says that it WILL, but it is making things hard...it's there, but not in crazy amounts.
So, the first week was initiated with a visit from a home nurse to take blood from the baby and check her out because she was a bit jaundiced, nothing too crazy, though. That was fine, though I really didn't like seeing her get blood taken from her foot. That was the first of my protective instincts, I guess. I mean, I could slice my finger off and be better with that than see her in pain. That is unreal. I don't want to be overprotective or anything so I need to work on that. Anyway, the week was also filled with visits to the inlaws, where I had the same feelings. MIL wanted to dote on her (fine) and take her for walks down the bug-infested and sun/heat filled driveway. My pleas of "keep her out of the sun" were dismissed and I just wanted to take the baby away from all of this craziness. Something else to get used to....
Still throughout, I was nursing...attempting...I started to get real milk in, but not to the extent that she was jumping at sucking on me. She still isn't at that point. Neither am I. By the end of the weekend, she was not waking to eat, seemed lethargic and we actually called the doc. Things were okay...and that was our first freak out call to the doctor during off-hours.
And THAT was the first week.....
I'm wondering what it is like for those who do not attempt to breastfeed. I think that getting up to feed, even though if the baby is anything like my daughter, she'll fight getting up, isn't as hard when you can switch off who does it, and the food is dependent on mixing it, not making it. I knew that nursing was going to suck (no pun intended) but I didn't realize how much and why during this first couple of weeks. First of all, the books say it's easy. Everything says it's the best, which is why I am doing it...not for me or any crazy "I love to see the baby suckling" thing...it's all for her. I should just "get it" and so should she. Doctors say otherwise, that we are both learning. I think that is obvious. The other issue is the actual milk. It ain't exactly flowing...and everyone says that it WILL, but it is making things hard...it's there, but not in crazy amounts.
So, the first week was initiated with a visit from a home nurse to take blood from the baby and check her out because she was a bit jaundiced, nothing too crazy, though. That was fine, though I really didn't like seeing her get blood taken from her foot. That was the first of my protective instincts, I guess. I mean, I could slice my finger off and be better with that than see her in pain. That is unreal. I don't want to be overprotective or anything so I need to work on that. Anyway, the week was also filled with visits to the inlaws, where I had the same feelings. MIL wanted to dote on her (fine) and take her for walks down the bug-infested and sun/heat filled driveway. My pleas of "keep her out of the sun" were dismissed and I just wanted to take the baby away from all of this craziness. Something else to get used to....
Still throughout, I was nursing...attempting...I started to get real milk in, but not to the extent that she was jumping at sucking on me. She still isn't at that point. Neither am I. By the end of the weekend, she was not waking to eat, seemed lethargic and we actually called the doc. Things were okay...and that was our first freak out call to the doctor during off-hours.
And THAT was the first week.....
Thursday, June 2, 2011
birth story......long
Okay...so after being overdue, I HAD to actually have the baby, right? Before I whine about my struggles dealing with having a five-day old baby, I will have to offer up the birth story.
Well...we had scheduled an induction for the Tuesday after memorial day. We were going to go in on Monday night to get some kind of drug that would take 8 hours to ripen my cervix (ever the problem..). So, we were going to spend the weekend doing memorial day things...hanging out my my inlaws' pool, going to the parade, etc.
Saturday morning we got up and went for a walk...about a three mile one, which for me at this point was a lot. Right afterwards, we went to brunch and then home to change and off to the pool. I was actually hoping to jump in since it was really friggin hot out, but the water was still pretty cold, so I only got the feet and legs in. I DID bust out my bikini, but with a tank top. I was HOT, let me tell you. So, anyway, about the time we started snacking by the pool, I started to get cramps. Since this was nothing new, I just ignored it, always thinking in the back of my mind, that it either meant something, or had to be helping. They got worse and more frequent throughout the afternoon and after dinner. So, we left after dessert, though the d-man had to help out with some computer issue (par for the course when we go over there). I was fine with the cramps, and was thinking that "what if they are real contractions and I have a high tolerance for pain and am late going to the hospital?" hahaha, no.
Things got a hell of a lot more interesting at home. For whatever reason, the cramps, and I will call them contractions now, started to really hurt. So, we went into stop the labor pain mode, as exemplified in the books and classes. I took a shower, d-man massaged my back, I got on the ball. Honestly, it still hurt. I was sworn to NOT call the doc until they were exactly five minutes apart. According to him, it was amazing that they actually were so accurately FIVE minutes apart. So, we started to time them on the iphone (you'd think there was app for that, but we just used the stopwatch). They were 12 minutes, then six, then two, then 17....you get the idea. I did NOT want to call if it wasn't where it was supposed to be but I had also read that the pre-labor contractions that weren't active labor, were not that bad. I know I read that you could do chores, or go to the movies, or whatever...um, no, not feeling like I wanted to do that, and the d-man saw that and called the doc anyway. They said, come on in.
So, we got everything...bag, carseat, money, and left around 3:20am for the hospital. We had to check in at the ER since it was the middle of the night, but got wheeled right up there pretty quickly. Contractions were still moving right along...but with no real consistency. I was always told, "you'll know" when it's the real deal, but now is where I was questioning things as well as my self-perceived pain tolerance. The nurse and the OB on call came in. The nurse was not memorable and we had communication issues with the doc. Not just because her accent was incredibly hard to understand but she was one of those people who didn't really listen to you, but rather waited until you were done so she could tell you the "right" information. Anyway, I went for a walk in the hall for a very short time period but had to go back to the room. Doc checked me and I was just about 100% effaced but only one centimeter dilated. At this point, we were told I was in early labor (not real) because I was probably dehydrated (spent the day at the pool) and since we were going to induce anyway, we would just be admitted and start the induction process in the morning. This, of course, means eight hours of getting the cervix ready BEFORE doing the pitocin, which I was NOT happy about....it was now about 4am and we were told to hang tight, take in fluid via IV and she'll come back around 6 to check again, but not to expect much.
So, I once played a softball game, well, half an inning of defense (catching!) with a broken arm. Not a total clean break, obviously, but still. Non-throwing arm, so it was fine... that and my numerous injuries led me to believe that I could handle this. BUT, I was just told I was in the "hey, you can still go to the mall" phase and things weren't going so well in the room. I would pace around, lay in the bed, go to the bathroom...didn't matter. This was easily the most pain I had ever felt and a LOT of it was in my back. I was later told this is back labor...if you can avoid it, DO SO. I was sort of able to go in and out of sleep but when a contraction came I was pretty much at a loss. It was at this point that I was contemplating the drugs...and NOT just the epidural, but the drugs I swore I wouldn't get. My thinking was eight hours of this was NOT going to fly.....
So at 7:15am (yep a FULL hour after they said) doc came in with the new nurse (7am change) and was ready to check me again. Just as she was ready to come in I swear I had like three intense contractions back to back to back. Not sure if this is possible but then it lasted forever. Finally she checked. 4-5 centimeters. BITCH!!! I couldn't believe it! I wasn't going to be waiting; I could get an epidural. (funny how the plan was...if I needed it...yeah...) So at 7:30 they did a shift change with the docs and my new nurse (who said we will re-meet each other after the epidural) was with me. Before the new on call doc came in, who was actually one of my regular OB's, the new anesthesiologist came in (the last one even came with a bad rep from my FIL) and we were good to go. I had one contraction during the process but then immediately felt a warmth like I was in a bath. I said this and apparently that wasn't what I was supposed to feel. So, I got back into bed with the monitors on and felt my legs go completely numb.
Okay, this wasn't how the epidural was supposed to go. He explained it to us how it went too far and he didn't see fluid so he injected (I had no idea what the hell he was talking about just that I couldn't feel my legs). So...my blood pressure started to drop. They gave me epinephrin and the baby's heart rate started to go up. awesome. They put an oxygen mask on me and I was basically monitored for the next two hours and they told us to get some sleep. Before that my doc (yeah) came in and I was at six centimeters. She broke my water, which I didn't feel and I guess there was a lot (yeah, baby not 10 pounds!) She left us to rest. I couldn't really, but I guess I relaxed. D-man and his dad (who was there "overseeing") went to get food. Then he came back and HE got some sleep.
The idea was that as I progressed, the numbness would subside. I had a pins and needles feeling in my hands and arms. It went up that high. Over the course of our resting period, feeling came back there and I started to get feeling moving down, so this was good. When the doc came back a couple of hours later, she checked and I was at nine. Talk about moving right along. We were getting ready at this point. Of course now the block was sort of wearing off and I could actually move (yes I couldn't even do this) my feet. Now d-man and I were just waiting it out. The exciting thing was that since the bolus (for the epidural to go in) was just hanging there, I was feeling the contractions...not all the way but still. The anesthesiologist came in and asked how I was (timing is great) and he put that in, eventually twice, so the feeling that I got back? gone. I could again not move my lower extremities. I was assured I could still push the kid out. And that was coming next.
Over the course of this, d-man got a text that his mom and sister were coming to sit in the waiting room. We didn't want them to, but they do what they want, so whatever. d-man made sure they knew that they were not to come to the labor room (they weren't allowed but with d-man's dad as a doc there, special privileges were abundant). My FIL said they would respect our wishes. He contradicted himself about an hour later when he asked to come in to watch but I nicely said no way to that. Thankfully my doc was very good about asking me first.
Push time was interesting. Since I was on an epidural, the contractions weren't that fast, so there was a lot of waiting around. Hanging with us was Karen the nurse (not the original one..she had an emergency c-section, but Karen was cool, too), Keli the resident, Jen the intern, my doc and d-man. The doc and Jen kept going in and out to check on the other rooms but everyone else stayed put. We basically shot the shit between contractions/pushes. It was weird. D-man, who's birth plan included looking me in the eye and counting from one to ten, ended up holding one of my legs and witnessing the whole gory thing. I think it traumatized him a little. I heard "is that normal?" at least once. It was difficult and odd with no real feeling, to push, not that I have anything to compare it to. Once it was clear she was actually coming, they put on battle gear--more scrubs, glasses...d-man was like, what the hell?? Anyway, she kind of came out on her own. It was the oddest feeling, like being emptied, similar when the placenta came out but obviously not as big. She seemed big to me, the baby, when they put her on my chest, but she was perfect. D-man cut the cord, thankfully. We were worried he wouldn't be able to because there was a small amount of miconium that could have been in her mouth, but she cried right out, so it was all good. They checked her out as d-man grabbed the camera and went to town. I was getting attended to, stitched up (yeah!) and then they put her back on my chest for some more pics and some feeding. At some point, D-man's mom and dad and sister came in to see her. Whatever they were there at that point, and I knew they wouldn't have to follow the regular rules. Who wouldn't want to see the perfect little girl?
My first nurse came in a bit later, they were a tag team, and basically cleaned me and the table up. I am sure its cool to see babies being born, but the other part of that is pretty disgusting. But then, being a nurse has the whole bedpan, catheter thing that goes along with it.
I got the epidural out, and moved to my room for the first time. They took the baby to the nursery for her first of MANY check-ups. They washed her too....she kinda needed that. Over the next two days we were hanging in the room with the baby (except when they stole her), nurses and whoever else came in unannounced many times for whatever, to check me, vitals, bring drugs, take blood. I had to make sure the d-man was dressed at all times. It's definitely NOT a hotel room! We DID have the sweet suite, though, with a room with the couchbed and chairs and TV that we didn't watch because you had to pay for it. We were NOT bored, so we didn't need it. D-man's family came with food at one point, which was good. The anesthesiologist came by to see how I was and my regular OB--the one I see most often--came by, once finding out that we weren't induced. We did one more class which was mostly about breastfeeding, something that was turning out to be quite a challenge by the end of the stay, and we were sent home with a slightly jaundiced baby. (she's fine now...and I'm healing up myself!)
Well...we had scheduled an induction for the Tuesday after memorial day. We were going to go in on Monday night to get some kind of drug that would take 8 hours to ripen my cervix (ever the problem..). So, we were going to spend the weekend doing memorial day things...hanging out my my inlaws' pool, going to the parade, etc.
Saturday morning we got up and went for a walk...about a three mile one, which for me at this point was a lot. Right afterwards, we went to brunch and then home to change and off to the pool. I was actually hoping to jump in since it was really friggin hot out, but the water was still pretty cold, so I only got the feet and legs in. I DID bust out my bikini, but with a tank top. I was HOT, let me tell you. So, anyway, about the time we started snacking by the pool, I started to get cramps. Since this was nothing new, I just ignored it, always thinking in the back of my mind, that it either meant something, or had to be helping. They got worse and more frequent throughout the afternoon and after dinner. So, we left after dessert, though the d-man had to help out with some computer issue (par for the course when we go over there). I was fine with the cramps, and was thinking that "what if they are real contractions and I have a high tolerance for pain and am late going to the hospital?" hahaha, no.
Things got a hell of a lot more interesting at home. For whatever reason, the cramps, and I will call them contractions now, started to really hurt. So, we went into stop the labor pain mode, as exemplified in the books and classes. I took a shower, d-man massaged my back, I got on the ball. Honestly, it still hurt. I was sworn to NOT call the doc until they were exactly five minutes apart. According to him, it was amazing that they actually were so accurately FIVE minutes apart. So, we started to time them on the iphone (you'd think there was app for that, but we just used the stopwatch). They were 12 minutes, then six, then two, then 17....you get the idea. I did NOT want to call if it wasn't where it was supposed to be but I had also read that the pre-labor contractions that weren't active labor, were not that bad. I know I read that you could do chores, or go to the movies, or whatever...um, no, not feeling like I wanted to do that, and the d-man saw that and called the doc anyway. They said, come on in.
So, we got everything...bag, carseat, money, and left around 3:20am for the hospital. We had to check in at the ER since it was the middle of the night, but got wheeled right up there pretty quickly. Contractions were still moving right along...but with no real consistency. I was always told, "you'll know" when it's the real deal, but now is where I was questioning things as well as my self-perceived pain tolerance. The nurse and the OB on call came in. The nurse was not memorable and we had communication issues with the doc. Not just because her accent was incredibly hard to understand but she was one of those people who didn't really listen to you, but rather waited until you were done so she could tell you the "right" information. Anyway, I went for a walk in the hall for a very short time period but had to go back to the room. Doc checked me and I was just about 100% effaced but only one centimeter dilated. At this point, we were told I was in early labor (not real) because I was probably dehydrated (spent the day at the pool) and since we were going to induce anyway, we would just be admitted and start the induction process in the morning. This, of course, means eight hours of getting the cervix ready BEFORE doing the pitocin, which I was NOT happy about....it was now about 4am and we were told to hang tight, take in fluid via IV and she'll come back around 6 to check again, but not to expect much.
So, I once played a softball game, well, half an inning of defense (catching!) with a broken arm. Not a total clean break, obviously, but still. Non-throwing arm, so it was fine... that and my numerous injuries led me to believe that I could handle this. BUT, I was just told I was in the "hey, you can still go to the mall" phase and things weren't going so well in the room. I would pace around, lay in the bed, go to the bathroom...didn't matter. This was easily the most pain I had ever felt and a LOT of it was in my back. I was later told this is back labor...if you can avoid it, DO SO. I was sort of able to go in and out of sleep but when a contraction came I was pretty much at a loss. It was at this point that I was contemplating the drugs...and NOT just the epidural, but the drugs I swore I wouldn't get. My thinking was eight hours of this was NOT going to fly.....
So at 7:15am (yep a FULL hour after they said) doc came in with the new nurse (7am change) and was ready to check me again. Just as she was ready to come in I swear I had like three intense contractions back to back to back. Not sure if this is possible but then it lasted forever. Finally she checked. 4-5 centimeters. BITCH!!! I couldn't believe it! I wasn't going to be waiting; I could get an epidural. (funny how the plan was...if I needed it...yeah...) So at 7:30 they did a shift change with the docs and my new nurse (who said we will re-meet each other after the epidural) was with me. Before the new on call doc came in, who was actually one of my regular OB's, the new anesthesiologist came in (the last one even came with a bad rep from my FIL) and we were good to go. I had one contraction during the process but then immediately felt a warmth like I was in a bath. I said this and apparently that wasn't what I was supposed to feel. So, I got back into bed with the monitors on and felt my legs go completely numb.
Okay, this wasn't how the epidural was supposed to go. He explained it to us how it went too far and he didn't see fluid so he injected (I had no idea what the hell he was talking about just that I couldn't feel my legs). So...my blood pressure started to drop. They gave me epinephrin and the baby's heart rate started to go up. awesome. They put an oxygen mask on me and I was basically monitored for the next two hours and they told us to get some sleep. Before that my doc (yeah) came in and I was at six centimeters. She broke my water, which I didn't feel and I guess there was a lot (yeah, baby not 10 pounds!) She left us to rest. I couldn't really, but I guess I relaxed. D-man and his dad (who was there "overseeing") went to get food. Then he came back and HE got some sleep.
The idea was that as I progressed, the numbness would subside. I had a pins and needles feeling in my hands and arms. It went up that high. Over the course of our resting period, feeling came back there and I started to get feeling moving down, so this was good. When the doc came back a couple of hours later, she checked and I was at nine. Talk about moving right along. We were getting ready at this point. Of course now the block was sort of wearing off and I could actually move (yes I couldn't even do this) my feet. Now d-man and I were just waiting it out. The exciting thing was that since the bolus (for the epidural to go in) was just hanging there, I was feeling the contractions...not all the way but still. The anesthesiologist came in and asked how I was (timing is great) and he put that in, eventually twice, so the feeling that I got back? gone. I could again not move my lower extremities. I was assured I could still push the kid out. And that was coming next.
Over the course of this, d-man got a text that his mom and sister were coming to sit in the waiting room. We didn't want them to, but they do what they want, so whatever. d-man made sure they knew that they were not to come to the labor room (they weren't allowed but with d-man's dad as a doc there, special privileges were abundant). My FIL said they would respect our wishes. He contradicted himself about an hour later when he asked to come in to watch but I nicely said no way to that. Thankfully my doc was very good about asking me first.
Push time was interesting. Since I was on an epidural, the contractions weren't that fast, so there was a lot of waiting around. Hanging with us was Karen the nurse (not the original one..she had an emergency c-section, but Karen was cool, too), Keli the resident, Jen the intern, my doc and d-man. The doc and Jen kept going in and out to check on the other rooms but everyone else stayed put. We basically shot the shit between contractions/pushes. It was weird. D-man, who's birth plan included looking me in the eye and counting from one to ten, ended up holding one of my legs and witnessing the whole gory thing. I think it traumatized him a little. I heard "is that normal?" at least once. It was difficult and odd with no real feeling, to push, not that I have anything to compare it to. Once it was clear she was actually coming, they put on battle gear--more scrubs, glasses...d-man was like, what the hell?? Anyway, she kind of came out on her own. It was the oddest feeling, like being emptied, similar when the placenta came out but obviously not as big. She seemed big to me, the baby, when they put her on my chest, but she was perfect. D-man cut the cord, thankfully. We were worried he wouldn't be able to because there was a small amount of miconium that could have been in her mouth, but she cried right out, so it was all good. They checked her out as d-man grabbed the camera and went to town. I was getting attended to, stitched up (yeah!) and then they put her back on my chest for some more pics and some feeding. At some point, D-man's mom and dad and sister came in to see her. Whatever they were there at that point, and I knew they wouldn't have to follow the regular rules. Who wouldn't want to see the perfect little girl?
My first nurse came in a bit later, they were a tag team, and basically cleaned me and the table up. I am sure its cool to see babies being born, but the other part of that is pretty disgusting. But then, being a nurse has the whole bedpan, catheter thing that goes along with it.
I got the epidural out, and moved to my room for the first time. They took the baby to the nursery for her first of MANY check-ups. They washed her too....she kinda needed that. Over the next two days we were hanging in the room with the baby (except when they stole her), nurses and whoever else came in unannounced many times for whatever, to check me, vitals, bring drugs, take blood. I had to make sure the d-man was dressed at all times. It's definitely NOT a hotel room! We DID have the sweet suite, though, with a room with the couchbed and chairs and TV that we didn't watch because you had to pay for it. We were NOT bored, so we didn't need it. D-man's family came with food at one point, which was good. The anesthesiologist came by to see how I was and my regular OB--the one I see most often--came by, once finding out that we weren't induced. We did one more class which was mostly about breastfeeding, something that was turning out to be quite a challenge by the end of the stay, and we were sent home with a slightly jaundiced baby. (she's fine now...and I'm healing up myself!)
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