the story of charleigh - part 6.....

Around 4 o'clock Sunday afternoon the official decision was made to perform a c-section. Josh was suited up in his scrubs and I had all of the other fun prep work. I was so excited. I could hardly believe in that in just a few short minutes I would get to meet my daughter for the first time. I know that for many women the prospect or reality of a c-section is heartbreaking. This just really was not the case for me. I have often told people that I truly didn't care if they took her out of my nose, I just wanted my baby. We had experienced the heartbreak of loss. We had gone through the months of hoping for that positive pregnancy test only to face a negative over and over. Our hearts' sole desire was to be parents. The birth was simply a means to an end in our book. Who cares how she got here? She was going to finally be here!!


Then word came that they had to perform a truly emergency c-section and so I had been pushed back a little. No problem. I've waited 2 1/2 years for this moment. What's one more hour? I was finally wheeled back into the operating room. I really did not know what to expect and being in the throes of labor, I didn't really think about it too much. It was so surreal to think about what they were doing. Charleigh was honestly still kicking and moving about even while they were opening me up. Dr. L even said "I think you made too good a home for her in there."


I soon heard Dr. L inform us that it was as he expected. She was "sunny side up". As in, I could have labored for a full 24 hours, dilated to 10 and this is still where we would have ended up. My kid was not going anywhere. I can actually recall my nurse putting her hand underneath me and pushing upwards while they pulled to get Charleigh unstuck.


Then I heard it.


The most beautiful sound ever.


One totally ticked off kid. And I mean TICKED OFF.


And then the tears started. I simply cried and cried and I remember looking at Josh and saying, "She's here. I can't believe she's really here."


When they brought her around for us to see, the first thing I thought was, "Wow. She has my hands." See, my hands look just like my mom's and hers look just like my grandma's. And without a doubt, at first sight, my child has the exact same hands. It's funny how that was the first thing I noticed.


She was then off with the nurse and Josh to head to the nursery while I was all stitched up. That was when more unpleasant bodily things began happening, but again, I really did not care. She was here. That was enough.


The next time I was able to see her, I was in recovery and they wheeled her in. I was shaking uncontrollably (and freaking my mom out) and I remember asking how big she was. When you were almost a 9 pounder and your husband was essentially 11 pounds, there is great fear over the size of your child. The response? 7 lbs. 3 oz. What? That's it? Oh well.


Shortly thereafter I was moved into a post-op room (read: a room about the size of a jail cell). Josh was given the duty of pushing the bassinet behind my bed. Words on a blog cannot do it justice but just imagine a grown man, a proud new daddy wheeling this cart at speeds I am not even sure could be described as moving. He was going that slow. It was by far a top 10 moment of hilarity in my life.


The next two days in the hospital flew by in a blur of visitors, pain, and getting to love on my little girl. And soon enough, we were on our way home to start our life as a family.


So often I encounter women who ask me if I am sad that I had to have her by c-section. My honest answer? Not a bit. Because I know. I know that there are worse outcomes than a healthy baby. Because really, it all boils down to the fact that when all was said and done, the miscarriage, the doctor's appointments, the shots, the million ultrasounds, the surgery, led me to one place. Getting to meet this beautiful face. And that made it all totally worth it.

And while it seems like only yesterday that this story began, here we are today.

Can you believe it? My baby is 3! And more fun each and every day......

the story of charleigh - part 5.......

O-kay. So my plan for the hospital did not work out as planned. Once admitted I was started on an antibiotic for the strep B as well as the general i.v. stuff. All those videos in birthing class telling you to shower or bathe at the hospital and all the walking around? Right. I was strapped to my bed as soon as we arrived and every time I tried to get up for more than a minute I had a nurse in there telling me that my monitors weren't picking up and to get back in bed. Argh. We were told that they wanted 2 rounds of antibiotics in before any steps were taken to further labor along. Because, really, I wasn't exactly laboring all that much. Stupid plan.

The night was pretty much more of the same. Pitocin was started around 2 in the morning, followed by them breaking my water around 4 in the morning. And, oh yes, Josh was asleep during both of those things. Asleep on the chair next to my bed. Around 6 or 7, my mom showed up and since nothing was really happening at that time, I encouraged Josh to go home and take a shower and get something to eat so that he would be ready for all of the excitement ahead. Before you go judging that thought, please know that I was only 3 cm and could still sleep through the contractions. And did I mention that we weren't planning on staying at the hospital? Josh had on non-matching pajama like clothing if I remember correctly. The trip home was worth it.

Shortly after he left, things definitely got a little more exciting. I pretty much started throwing up about every 5 minutes. I really just assumed that this was a normal part of labor and no biggie. However, please refer to part 3 of this story to remember the control issue that had started with pregnancy. Add to that the contractions that were happening every 2-3 minutes. Yes, my friends, it was not a pretty picture. One that I am actually thankful that my husband did not have to witness. After this went on for about an hour and half a nurse happened to walk in during the middle of it. She was great. She wanted to know why we hadn't called for some anti-nausea meds and I told her that I thought labor was supposed to be rough and that this was just part of it. Apparently, while in a hospital, labor doesn't have to be that bad. She came back seconds later with Reglan (sp.) and within a few minutes it all stopped.

Around 9 the doctor was in to check me and I literally almost crawled up the bed because it hurt so bad. He then went out into the hallway with the nurse. When they came back in, the nurse informed me that he wanted them to start my epidural. I was pretty surprised. I was still handling the pain fine and while I figured that I would get one at some point, I knew it was pretty early in the process to start it already. I was only 4 cm at that time. Charleigh was apparently wedged in and stuck so tightly that he could not get the internal monitors on her and it was becoming difficult to track her. Josh returned around this time and did get to enjoy the process that was the epidural. I was nervous because I had heard so many stories about women where it didn't take or only half their body was numb and everything else. Mine rocked. Totally rocked. About 15 minutes after it was in, it was like pure bliss. I felt fine and relaxed. Dr. L came back in and placed the internal monitors, but it was clearly a difficult task. He then pulled the nurse and my mom out into the hallway. I later found out that at this point he informed them that he was almost certain our day would end with a c-section delivery. But no told me this until after she was born. He kind of figured that even at full dilation she was wedged too much to come out on her own.

After this I remember feeling like we all just hung out until about 3 that afternoon. I had quite a few visitors during that time including my aunt and cousin. She had brought my newly married cousin down and was hoping to show her how hard labor was. I and my epidural were not exactly a good teaching case. She should have been there earlier. Anyway. So around 3, the nurse and the doctor were back in there giving us the plan. Charleigh was doing well, but I was making no progress. My contractions were coming one on top of the other and were practically off the chart in strength and I was still only 4 cm. Not to mention that Charleigh wasn't moving anywhere. He told us that he could leave me laboring until closer to the 24 hour mark, but that he didn't believe I was ever going to dilate and he didn't see any reason to leave me laying in bed laboring for no reason.

So, the decision was made, c-section here we come.................

the story of charleigh - part 4.......

We were well on our way to having a baby.

Get pregnant. Check.

Find out gender. Check.

Name baby. Ummm.........

Now if we had been having a boy, we had a name all picked out. As in, we would have called him by name during the ultrasound. A girl name? Not going so well. We figured that we didn't have anything to worry about seeing as how there had only been one girl born in his family in about 3 generations. We were positive that it would be a boy. The joke was clearly on us.

Things would have been simple if we had even been in the same name ballpark. But, no, we weren't even in the same city. For my toss outs of "I like boy names. How about Tyler, Ryan, Mac, etc.?" Josh would respond with "What about Lacey, Emma, Miriam, or Rachel?" If you have met me before, you are probably clear on the fact that I do not birth children with names like that. Add in the fact that before we were even officially engaged I had informed Josh that if we ever had a daughter I wanted to name her Charlie. (the current spelling came later.) He had always hated it with a passion. Still did in fact. So finally one weekend I kidnapped him, er, I mean, suggested that we go out of town. Once I had him trapped in the car I laid out all my reasons for going with my chosen name of Charlie. Including but not limited to the fact that he could barely remember the names he "loved" 10 minutes after suggesting them and I had been hanging onto this one for 6 years. He caved because he is great like that. Shortly after informing my folks that we had in fact settled on the name, my mom suggested that we at least use an alternate spelling so that in her future people who saw her name would know it wasn't a boy. And so, Charleigh it was.

The next couple months flew by in a blur. I had been taken off work in January due to some back problems I was experiencing. By problems, I mean that back pain which resulted in 2 to 3 hours of sleep a night does not a productive or healthy person make. Anywho, as reluctant as I was to leave work, I really did enjoy the time of "rest" leading up to her birth.

My due date was May 15th and like any good pregnant girl I really hoped that she would grace us with her presence before that time if possible. :) I really had no Braxton-Hicks or contractions of any type that I can remember. The morning of May 6th, I took part in a yard sale in a school parking lot and then spent the rest of the afternoon shopping with my mom. I clearly remember that we were walking around in Michaels and I had stopped and was rubbing my belly. The following conversation then ensued:

Mom: What's wrong?

Me: Nothing, why?

Mom: Why are you doing that?

Me: I don't know. Every few minutes my stomach gets this really tight feeling and if I just stop and rub it a little the feeling goes away after a minute.

Mom: Uh, how long has this been going on?

Me: I don't know. Since this morning sometime.

Mom: Is it possible that those are contractions? (said with extreme sarcasm)

Duh. I didn't even realize what was going on. Once I was aware of what was happening, I realized that they were actually happening quite frequently. Later that night, Josh and I went to my folks for dinner and were hanging out on the patio. I got this really genius (read: colossally stupid) idea at that point. My friend Krista who had given birth a month earlier had told me that if you are near labor and go in to the hospital they would strip your membranes and that would get things moving along. Perfect. We made a plan to go down there as close to 10 as possible so that it would be late, but not so late that we would have to use the emergency room entrance. I figured that we would go in, they would check me, declare that I was having some false labor, strip my membranes and we would be back in a day or two to have a baby.

So we left the house around 9:30 to head to the hospital to check my "labor". As in, we didn't even take my bag because we knew that I wasn't really in labor. Upon arriving we were taken to a room where a very nice male nurse checked everything out, hooked me up to a monitor and promised to be back in a few minutes. About 45 minutes went by and he walks back into the room. Carrying an iv bag. And saying crazy stuff like, "Well, Mrs. LaGore, you are being admitted."

Uh, what???????

the story of charleigh - part 3......

The 10 day mark for my bloodtest fell on a Sunday, which also happened to be Labor Day weekend. So of course the lab was closed on Monday also. Grrr... Tuesday finally rolled around and we did the obligatory blood draw, followed by a phone call from Dr. A's office late in the afternoon saying "Yes, you are pregnant!" Woohoo! (Kinda saw that coming seeing as how this is Charleigh's story, huh?)

From there, it was another blood draw Friday to make sure levels were rising, then an ultrasound to check progress at 5, 6, 7, 8, and 10 weeks. My appointments were always on Friday and every week I would get so nervous all over again that something might be going wrong. But every week upon arriving at the office I got to see the beautiful progress of our little baby. I had been alone when I went to the doctor and learned of my miscarriage, so I never went alone to these appointments. One week I even took my aunt along because no one else was available. That was the first week that we could see the heartbeat. I remember sitting in the room and both of us being in tears. It was so overwhelmingly amazing to see this little thing that was only a couple centimeters big and there it was. A heart. Beating away. It was breathtaking.

At the end of my first trimester I was transferred over to my regular OB for the remainder of the pregnancy. From then on, everything was pretty much smooth sailing. The morning sickness had been pretty rough (read: Getting sick at work 4-5 times a day, which usually required a change of clothes each time due to a um, control issue while getting sick.) but it tapered off completely around 14 weeks. Honestly, I didn't even care when I was sick. I was just so happy to finally be experiencing a healthy pregnancy that nothing mattered.

We scheduled an ultrasound with Baby Sightings the day before Thanksgiving to find out the gender. Almost immediately upon starting the tech said, "There it is. The (insert girly part word that I don't really want to type on my blog)." Josh was like, "Huh? What's that?" So I had to educate him. "That means it's a girl!!" Later that evening while driving to the mountains Josh turned to me and said, "You know what this means right? We have to pay for a wedding." Such a guy.

Now if we could only agree on a name.......

the story of charleigh - part 2.....

In June of 2004, we were ready to start trying to get pregnant again. This turned out to be easier said than done. To keep the graphic nature of this content to a minimum, let's just say that all "systems" were clearly not functioning properly. Calls in to the doctor to find out what was going on always resulted in "Just get back on birth control and it should be fine." But really? What woman who is trying to get pregnant wants to hear that type of advice? That is like the antithesis of your current goals. So, I rebelled. I did not take the meds and things only got worse.

January 2005 rolled around and things were still a mess. I had taken a two month assignment in Florida for work and about six weeks into it I sorta had a major breakdown. This was most likely a result of the 14-hour day/7 days a week work combined with the improperly functioning systems that had left me SEVERLY anemic. Thankfully Josh was there with me and we were able to get sent back home on medical leave in a very short amount of time.

Only days after arriving in California my mom and I were headed to Santa Barbara for a full workup at the Sansum Clinic. It was three days of craziness. Basically, I started at an Internal Medicine doctor and was then referred out to a specialist for any possible issue that I had going on. For me, that equaled an Endocrinologist, Neurologist, Obgyn, not to mention multiple ultrasounds, and more lab work and more blood taken than I knew was possible. You know it's bad when the same nurse in the lab recognizes you because it's the THIRD time you've seen her that day! It was totally worth it though because I was able to leave there with a plan. That's really all I wanted. To know that we were actually heading in the right direction.

When I got back to town, I was referred to a fertility doctor here in town that we shall call Dr. A. He was great! I first saw him in early May and then spent the rest of the summer undergoing various tests and procedures. Again, I will spare you the graphic details but I can tell you that they were NOT fun and some quite painful. But at summer's end, we knew we were hopefully getting close. Following a round of Clomid and Metformin combo, Dr. A told us that we had about a 20-25% chance of conceiving on our own so he recommended an IUI just so that we didn't waste our time and the good egg that we finally had. Talk about being sure of your conception date! So on August 25, 2005 "all the guests made it to the party" (the doc's words, not mine) and I figured that now we just waited the 10 days for the blood test. Yeah, right. The next words from the nurse?

"Has anyone explained to you how to do the shots yet?"

Excuse me? Shots? NO ONE mentioned shots!

And so the lesson on heparin shots began. The daily med list heading home?

-heparing shots (twice daily)
-progesterone (ahem, not in pill form, twice daily)
-prenatal vitamins
-steroids (10 day prescription to boost system before heparin kicks in but with a warning that it increases cleft palette chances to like 15%)
-Metformin (three times daily)
-iron (twice daily for anemia)

You know those women (some of you included) who get that moment of "Oh my, I'm late. I wonder if I'm pregnant. " Then comes the home test and the phone call/announcement to husband and friends and family. Yeah, not us. But that's okay. Because we were still reaching the same goal. A baby. And now we were less than two weeks away from knowing if that goal was actually happening......

100 and a story.....

I am really bad at this blogging thing. Actually, I have been intending to post for the last two weeks, but something keeps stopping me. See, this is my 100th post. I knew that it was going to be the 100th post and I kept wanting it to be really spectacular or witty or exciting. It is probably going to prove to be none of the above. Instead, I think that I will take advantage of Charleigh's upcoming 3rd (oh my gosh, my baby is 3) birthday to write out her birth story. I have never done this and since I really super duper lame on my blog for her first year of life, now is as good as ever.

Charleigh - Part 1

The story of Charleigh really started 5 years ago. Josh and I had talked about waiting until we had been married for 2 or 3 years before starting the baby thing. Also, my mother had lots of trouble with fertility and I anticipated the possibility that I would have similar problems. Lo and behold, we were shocked beyond belief when I came up accidentally pregnant in early 2004 after only 8 months of marriage. We were a little unsure of a baby that soon, but were also ecstatic because it seemed that the fertility issue wasn't the problem we expected after all.



However, in late April 2004, our dreams for that child were shattered. Everything seemed to be going well and I was finally getting over some serious morning sickness issues. I went in for a routine appointment at 15 weeks and found out that the baby had stopped developing around the 7-8 week mark but my body had never miscarried it. Josh and I were devastated. We had come to love the idea of becoming parents and as soon as the doctors gave the go ahead we started trying to get pregnant again. Little did we know that things were not going to be anywhere near as simple as we planned......



(and because I hate to post without a photo here is the munchkin geared up and ready for the March of Dimes walk.........)