Tag Archives: hospital

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

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As mentioned before, I started running again November 1st. I’ve been going to boot camp twice a week. I’ve been walking. I’ve been getting out of the house lots. I’ve been finding a “new normal” routine. It’s currently 4 am on Thursday, December 7th, and I’m pumping. This is part of the new normal I’ve created. December 7th marks 7 weeks postpartum. Considering how strong I started off, I should be even stronger now. But, I hit a very unexpected speed bump…

Monday, December 4th, started out like a normal day. I was a bit more tired than usual, so I took an epic nap with Andy in the morning. During that time, my stomach was feeling a bit uneasy and bloated. By the time we headed to our Mommy Connections class, I felt VERY bloated. I wore a hooded sweatshirt to cover my bloat and went on with the afternoon. As the afternoon progressed, this did not go away. In fact, a pain developed in my stomach. When we got home, I went to nurse Andy on the bed. Laying on my side is what I find to work the best for us when we do this. But this time, a major red flag occurred-I had trouble getting up.

The pain in my side was bad. So bad that we just laid there. I was about to call Dan to see if he was coming home soon, but then I heard him come in through the shop. Phew. He came upstairs and helped me with Andy, and I tried to figure out what was wrong with me. I googled some things as the pain progressed. Yes, looking up possibly ailments online is not the best thing to do, but I did it anyway. By 5pm, I knew something was wrong. I needed to go to ER.

Dan packed Andy up in his carrier and drove me to ER. I walked in and was immediately frustrated-quite a few people in the waiting room. The screen said approximately a 2 hr 7 minute wait to send a doctor once you registered. I felt like I was at Disney World. I registered and sat. Sat uncomfortably , that is. I must have been triaged ahead of people due to the fact that I was 7 weeks postpartum because I was soon moved to another waiting area and eventually a bed. By the time I got to the bed, I had the chills. When the doctor came in she performed an ultrasound. She couldn’t get a super clear image on the in-room ultrasound but was pretty certain there was a stone in my appendix.

Dan and Andy came by around 9:30, and at this time I had gotten brought up to the large ultrasound machine. The tech there confirmed I did in fact have appendicitis. When we met with the doctor back in the ER it was determined that surgery to remove this pointless organ was the best course of action. It would be performed as a laparoscopic procedure, with three “ports” created in my stomach area-one to the left of my belly button, one below my belly button and the third through my belly button. As long as all went well (which it did) they would remove my crappy appendix through my belly button.

By 1 am I was in recovery and then soon after brought back to a room. The room I was brought to was actually in the maternity ward, due to overflow space. This came in handy because the nurses there had gotten me set up with a pump and some bottles before I even went down to surgery. Dan had gone home with Andy so I gave him a call to let him know I survived, and then I tried to sleep.

The morphine in my system was causing me to fall in and out of sleep, even when I was trying my hardest to stay awake and post things on Facebook or send emails. This whole ordeal was surreal–I wasn’t supposed to be back in the hospital. I did that back in October. I had my induction day, my labour and delivery, and I was discharged out. I was supposed to be continuing on the up and up from there. But now I felt back at square one, and in some ways, even farther put back.

The doctor eventually came and told me the surgery went as planned, and my three incisions would heal over time. I had green bandages on my stomach that could be taken off later, but then some surgical tape and stitches that would eventually dissolve and fall off. I was slightly swollen. It hurt to cough. It was not easy to get up and walk. When I was discharged I was pushed out in a wheelchair and I can say with certainty that I felt worse leaving the hospital on Tuesday, December 5th, than I did when I left on Saturday, October 21st.

Running would be halted. Baby boot camp would be postponed. I had orders to not lift anything more than 10 pounds for 5-6 weeks. Andy is already in the low 9’s, so him in his car seat puts that over the limit. I was starting my postpartum healing all over again with a non-postpartum procedure.

Im not asking for people to feel sorry for me. But, right now at this moment, I feel very frustrated and vulnerable. Just when I thought I was on the right track to being “back to normal” it was all put on hold. I’m going from my body feeling great and ready to be back fully in the game to it feeling weak and beaten up. The activities I was participating in during the weekdays will have to temporarily change while I heal, and we aren’t going to be able to leave the house just the two of us as much.

Two steps forward and one step back. That’s what this feels like. And I feel like next week after my mother in law leaves (she came down less than 24 hours after my surgery to help) it’ll even feel like two or three steps back. I was fully independent and able to care for Andy easily on my own. Now I’m having to force myself to ask for help because when I don’t, I can tell I’m potentially doing more harm than good. As I anxiously await for my body to heal from an unexpected surgery, I am grateful for everyone who has stepped in to help us out. I know 5-6weeks is a very short time frame, relatively speaking, but when you’ve already been 6 weeks recovered and back doing your “new normal” going back to the starting line is very mentally challenging.

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…And Baby makes 3!

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On Thursday, October 12th, I had a doctors appointment that showed my blood pressure was slightly elevated.  Nothing too scary, however, I was told I needed to stop work immediately.  I was also told I couldn’t run anymore.  I was 37 weeks pregnant.  Then, on Sunday, October 15th, we went to the hospital to check the blood pressure again, along with a blood test and urine test.  Blood pressure was still raised, but other tests came back fine.  However, I needed to have this baby in the next few days.  An induction was scheduled for Wednesday, October 18th.  I would be 38 weeks pregnant.

I am a very Type-A person who likes control and plans.  So on paper, having a scheduled date to arrive to the hospital would be a relief. However, the days leading up to the induction stressed me out a bit. I’ve been to hospitals before for surgeries–but for those, you arrive, get prepped, get drugged up and put out, and wake up with everything all done and fixed.  This time, I would be arriving at the hospital with an end goal in sight, but it would resemble a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book.

What I wore to the hospital the morning of my induction

I won’t go into all the details of my induction, labour, delivery, recovery.  But I am going to go over some key moments and takeaways.  First, induction can be done a lot of different ways.  My doctor opted to administer a pill orally every 4 hours.  I received my first pill at 6:30 am, and in total I had four during the day.  They didn’t seem to act super fast, and I just experienced manageable cramping during the afternoon.  But once they did their job, labour hit HARD.  When labour did hit me, the pain was not just in my lower abdomen (like I was assuming it would be).  I had read about ‘back labour’ and pains all throughout your torso.  Yeah…that’s what I had.  MY whole lower back, wrapped around my abdomen, to my upper thighs.  The induction drugs were overtaking my whole body and forcing it to go into labour—because otherwise, baby was completely content staying inside.

If you are planning on taking any medication for pain, ask for it early.  I had originally thought maybe I’d try a natural delivery.  Yeah, once the pains began I realized SHIT….NO.  So I finally asked for morphine.  Problem was, the doctor who could sign off on it was busy delivering not one, but two babies.  So I had to wait.  My husband thinks it was about an hour after we initially asked for it that it took to get it.  Oh, and then during that time I barfed for the first time in my whole pregnancy.

I finally got moved from the induction area to a labour and delivery room.  Here is where I let all the swears and bad language flow.  The saving grace in this location was the shower.  I just plopped myself on the chair and made Dan get in his swim trunks and hose me down like an elephant at the zoo.  I was probably in the shower from 1.5-2 hours of my labour, as I was in there initially when we got into the room and then again later on when I realized laying in the bed was too damn painful.

After the shower, I decided FUCK IT I want an epidural.  But, my body hadn’t progressed enough yet to get one.  When my water broke and I was ready to get an epidural, they put the order in.  But I had to wait….the anaesthesiologist was in the OR.  Alright….if my labour now progressed normally I would still get the full epidural with plenty of time to spare.  But, my body decided to kick into overdrive….it may not have wanted to be induced, but not that everything was working it started working FAST.  I can say with certainty that the anaesthesiologist did not arrive in our room until 11:30 PM.  I did not get a full epidural, as it was too close to when I would be starting pushing.  But, I was numbed in my lower abdomen area.  I started pushing at 11:45 PM.  Baby Andrew Allen Pottage came into the world at 12:32 AM on Thursday, October 19th.

 

Baby Andy weighed in at 6 pounds 4 ounces and 19.25 inches long

 

Let’s give a shoutout to the nurses. Everything they did for us leading up to his delivery was first class.  And we witnessed their hard work after he was born.  He had some difficulty breathing initially, and there were about 4 nurses working on him in my room.  They eventually took him and my husband down to NICU where he got hooked up to a breathing machine and IV.  I stayed very calm when they all left the room, mainly because I knew he was in good hands.  My nurse Carla stayed with me, cleaned me up, and even went to heat up my Mac & Cheese that Dan had brought me earlier that I never had a chance to eat for dinner.  I got to head down to NICU with Dan later on at around 2:45 AM and we got to spend time with Andy.

I like to say that Andy knew how to work the system from the moment he was born.  He only had that breathing tube in until the early afternoon of the 19th, and stayed in NICU to be observed until the early afternoon of the 20th.  The NICU is brand-spanking new.  It’s a Four Seasons hotel.  The maternity ward is a Motel 6 (for the record, a new maternity ward is opening within the next month, and it’ll be right next to the NICU).  Anyway, Andy stayed in style while Dan and I were slumming it.  Andy came to the slums on Friday night so we could get one evening of him ‘rooming-in’ with us before being discharged.  We were spoiled ourselves, actually, with him in NICU for those short 36 hours because the nurses there took care of his every need all while we watched and learned from a distance.


As we left the hospital on Saturday morning, it still felt surreal.  Even though we walked out of the front doors carrying a baby in a car seat, it didn’t feel real.  My pregnancy journey was now complete—it lasted actually a full year, if you take into account when we initially decided we were going to start trying, to when we had the miscarriage, to getting pregnant very quick after.  38 weeks pregnant with Andy and an early arrival…wow is all I can say.  For me, being pregnant was like following a training plan for a race.  I had weekly goals to meet, I had check-ups with my coaches (doctors) to make sure everything was on the right track.  And when it came time for the big event, I worked overtime to get to that finish line.  I think it’s fair to say that Andy is the best finisher medal I have ever received.