Okay....so here is the story of me and my little one, Asher.
I got pregant in October. The days and nights were finally cooling off. We had just gotten "settled" into our new routines. The boys were in their schools and I was getting ready to go through all of our boxes... Christmas, Easter....you know all the crap that you accumulate over the years. We found out, in the same week, that Mike was going to a school in MD for two months and then to Iraq for four months and that I was pregnant. We can do this, we thought. Four months? Easy Peasy. Mike came home for Christmas break and I bled a little. We went to the hospital. They determinded that I was still pregnant and we would have to wait and see....
Mike left for Iraq on the 28th of December 08. Nothing to it. The kiddos and I slipped into our own routine. I ended up taking the 16 week blood screening test. I was already seeing a geneticist - I'm old and volumptuous. I ended up with an elevated screening for downs syndrome. They wanted me to have an amniocentesis. I shot it down. No way. No how. I had done it before with Jack and I wasn't going to put myself or the kiddo in that kind of stress without Mike being here. We did numerous ultrasounds and everything looked fine. Easy Peasy.
Then Mike came home. I had an ultrasound scheduled with a new geneticist. My regular geneticist had retired. This was Mike's first ultrasound. I saw the doctor for fifteen minutes, tops. Within those fifteen minutes she had said c-section five times. The baby was too big. He was going to have to come out with a c-section. If I was a first time mom I would have been scared. However, it just absolutely pissed me off. People in Georgia don't have big babies? I thought that this lady was cut happy.
To make her happy I was monitoring my glucose level four times a day. We did this for a month and a half. I was not gestational diabetic. And then when I hit thirty-six weeks she informed me that I was gestational diabetic and wanted me to take glyburide. I had two weeks to give her my decision if I wanted amniocentisis - so that she could induce labor. HOLY CRAPOLY. The more she talked the more irate I became. First this lady wants to cut me open, then she wants me to take a category C pharmaceutical drug and finally she wants to stick my belly with a needle the size of my forearm. She is smoking crack!!! All of this just because she thinks that I have a big baby. Jack was 8 lbs 13 oz and Aiden was 8 lbs 6 oz. I have big babies.
I get a hold of the military doctors and get assigned to this absolutely ornery old fella. We get a long famously. I enjoy his candor and he loves to see how far he can push. He asks me, "Why are you here? You don't listen to me." And I reply, "Oh, but I do listen to you. I just don't do what you say." That kind of relationship. :) I end up taking NST (non-stress tests twice a week). Nothing major. But then I start swelling. Really, really swelling. He looks at me and says that all kidding aside he thinks that I may be developing pre-eclympsia. I need to get the baby out. I take his advice. I understand that what he is saying isn't something to be dismissed as smoking crack. :) However, with the military system he won't be delivering my baby. I have to go back to the cut happy crack smoker. I went to her office, with egg on my face, and found out she is out of the state with a family emergency.
On Monday, the 6th of July, I get in contact with my family and make arrangements for them to come as soon as possible. Then Mike and I have our neighbors watch the kiddos while we go talk to the doc on call at the hospital that is delivering my baby. We talk to a very sweet military doctor that has reviewed my files. I go through the speil and we talk. He wants to admit me that night. No can do. I have two kiddos at home. Who is going to watch them? We compromise on the next night. Then he wants to induce. We compromise on that one as well. We strip my membranes. I promise to come in and we use Cervidil. We waited fourteen hours. Then start the Petocin drip. My water finally breaks and 2:00 pm on Wednesday. Labor stinks. I finally was fully dilated around 10:00 pm we pushed and pushed but nothing happened. Nothing. The doctors, Mike and I had a pow wow around 2:15 am on thursday. I am freaking tired. They think that the cord is wrapped around his head. Every time there is a contraction his heart rate drops. Needless to say I didn't hesistate. Get him out. I wanted my trial of labor. I got it. Something could be wrong. I live in a day and age when we have the capability of not loosing so many women and children to the process of labor that I didn't feel it necessary to "push" (lol) my luck any further.
Asher was born at 3:27 am on Thursday, July 9th. He had the cord wrapped around his head twice and his shoulder once. He was 9 lbs and 5 oz. 22 1/2 inches long.
Three weeks later, today, he weighs 10 lbs 9oz and is 23 inches long.