The story of How I Got Hit By a Bus (ie. Oscar's Birth Story)

July 6th- 5:30 AM
I woke up to some very mild cramping. During the night I must have been having cramping too because I remember waking up several times because of it.
I couldn't go back to sleep and stayed awake to see of they were actually contractions and if there was any regularity to them.
They were about 10 minutes apart and lasting for about 20 seconds. But they weren't remaining consistent.
I called my Dad when it became a reasonable hour and he told me, "Well it doesn't sound like much.  It could turn into something but it also might be a few days."
(Melissa makes a grumpy face)
I had called him because I wanted to know if he thought I should take my shot of blood thinner.  If I was going into labor I didn't want to take my shot because I have to wait a certain amount of time for it to be out of my system, otherwise I might not be able to get an epidural.
He advised me to take my medicine.  I figured either way, things were moving slow enough that it wouldn't end up being a problem.  (More on that later).
8:30 AM Took my medicine.

It was Sunday, and I decided I would go to church instead of sitting around feeling anxious, wondering what the near future held.
By the time I arrived at church, the contractions had picked up again and were becoming pretty consistent.  I sat through Sacrament meeting okay, but during Sunday school and relief society I mostly just paced the halls. The contractions were coming about every 5-8 minutes and lasting about 20 seconds.  The pain was still bearable, obviously, otherwise I would not have been at church.  But by the time I left church at 2 PM, things were starting to hurt.
I was feeling nervous that things were progressing too fast, not great if I wanted my epidural, and boy, did I ever want my epidural.

I got home from church and packed my hospital bag.  My friend Elizabeth, offered at church to take my kids, I was grateful.  I wanted the kids gone, I couldn't deal with the distractions, and also they were beginning to worry about me because they could tell I was in pain.  Luckily my friend Steffanie stopped by with some numbing lotion, and she was able to take the kids to Elizabeth, by this time I did not want Don to leave me alone.
It was 2:30 PM and the contractions were every 3 minutes and lasting around 40 seconds.
They were painful, but I was still coping decently well.
I called the on call nurse who told me I should go to the hospital.
Hooray! One step closer to my epidural.

We arrived at the hospital, I was dilated to a 4 and they admitted me.  The contractions slowed down at the hospital.  My Douala friend Emily told me this would probably happen, she said labor usually slows down when you change location.

I got to my delivery room probably  around 4:30 PM.  I was hooked up to my IV, and the strep B antibiotics were started, blood was drawn to see if my blood clotting level was safe for an epidural.

My Doctor came in and introduced herself, Dr. Galloway, she was a very chipper lady with a strong southern accent who I instantly liked, probably because she kept winking at me and calling me "baby." I sat in my rocking chair, rocking away, making sure she knew I wanted my epidural.  When the results came back from my blood test, she told me they were not even close to where they needed to be, and I couldn't get my epidural.  And that is when I turned into a 13 year old, ugly crier.  She said in her nice southern accent. "Honey, we don't want to paralyze you."  I thought, "I'll take the risk!! I promise I won't sue!" But I didn't say that.  I just cried.  I must have been a pathetic sight because she said, "Well let me go talk to the anesthesiologist."  She came back within a few minutes and said, "Good news! He'll do it!"  And the clouds parted and I saw a rainbow of hope.

It was only a few more minutes and my hero walked through  the door with his mammoth needle.  He was a chipper Doctor as well, with a Southern accent, he was also of Asian decent, which is not a combination you see very often.  Of course he was my favorite person in the room.  He gave me my epidural and I sunk into my bed in complete relief.  I thought, the worst is over, I did it! I turned back into a normal person instead of an emotionally unstable pre-teen.  It was now about 6 PM.

My nurses switched shifts, and my new nurse was Erin, who I also instantly liked.  We figured out she was Mormon when she mentioned she had 5 kids.  I told Don he could leave to go pick up the kids and take them to his sister Julie's house for the night.

For the next couple hours I tried to rest, but my anxiety kept me from falling asleep.  I had a fear that the pain would return.  Erin stayed with me and helped distract me by talking about things.  I started to feel this strange sensation in my left pelvic area, like it was cold.  As time went on, I realized what that strange sensation was, PAIN! My fear was coming to pass!  The epidural was failing on me!  Don still wasn't back yet and I was getting increasingly nervous.  I was given more epidural medication, and tried different positions to see if I could fix it, but the pain just got worse.  By the time Don got back, I was starting to feel desperate again.  The anesthesiologist came back and adjusted the needle in my back, to no avail.  Half of my body was feeling the contractions again, and at increased intensity, and half of my body was numb.  About this time, I pregnant girl from Billing came in to talk to us about how we would be paying for everything.  Perfect timing.  Yes, I can think of nothing more I would rather be doing, than to talk to you about which card we will be paying you thousands of dollars with.  I would have to stop the ridiculous conversation for contractions, and she so patiently just stood there and waited. you might think she might say to herself, hmmm.  Perhaps I should come back later.  But no, that social grace seemed to be lost on her.  I am guessing her pregnancy must be her first, because if she had ever had a baby, she would have understood that labor is not the best time to be discussing forms of payment.  Anyway.  the anesthesiologist decided he would re-do my epidural. And this was about the time I had my second mental breakdown of the day as he was re-inserting my epidural.  Oh, and the girl from billing reappeared, and was just standing by the door in the middle of me sobbing through my second epidural.  seriously, the girl needs some sensitivity training.  My nurse told her to go away, thank goodness.

Thankfully this epidural worked, and soon my bottom half was completely dead weight in a matter of minutes.  It was probably around 9 PM by now.  Not long after, my Doctor came in and said things had progressed and it was about time to push.  She broke my water and we all got excited that it was smooth sailing from here on out.  I figured I would push for a few minutes and poof! It would be over!  I had Don call my dad and tell him the baby was coming sooner than we had predicted (Ha! that's funny in hindsight!) and if he wanted to be here for it, he better come soon.

Well I pushed. And I pushed.  And...I pushed. And no matter how much winking and calling me "baby" she did, I still couldn't get that baby out.  My Doctor told me that my contractions were not strong enough now so it was decided that I would get some pitocin, and take a break, and she would go deliver the other lady who was having better luck than I was.  So I tried to rest, and tried to sleep, but once again, my anxiety kept me from really relaxing.  I don't know if it was from the drugs, or from exhaustion, but this is where things become a little foggy.  My Doctor eventually came back in and we tried again.  And I fell asleep between contractions.  It seemed like I pushed forever.  And I think the baby was in a little bit of distress.  I began to wonder if I would ever get him out.  FINALLY I did.  I don't even know how long I pushed overall. I would guess about 2 hours.  He came at 12:01 AM July 7th.  He was 6 pounds and 15 ounces.  And I didn't even see him right away.  He was taken to the other side of the room where he was being taken care of by an increasing amount of nurses.  He didn't  cry at all.  Not a great sign.  It seemed like a long time, but then again, by this point I had no concept of time or what my name was, but eventually I was handed my baby.  And the poor thing was just making little grunting noises and looked miserable.  I held him for probably 3 minutes, and then they took him to the NICU for the night.

The rest of the night is one big blur. I remember my Dad and Liz came to visit in the delivery room, and I remember everyone left me to go visit the  baby up in NICU.  And then I remember being wheeled to my postpartum room.  And I remember visiting the baby in the morning with my Dad, and falling asleep while holding him in the NICU. And falling asleep basically when anyone started talking to me, including Doctors and nurses.  I remember some conversation with the NICU Doctor who was telling me why Oscar was in the NICU, and I remember trying really hard to understand what he was talking about, but well, all I remember is something about his lungs and air pockets.  I am sure I will see see all these 2 minute conversations show up on my hospital bills.  ($200 for Dr. whatshisname?  When was that?  Oh that must have been the Doctor that came in and said "good morning" and then left)  I do remember that when I held Oscar for the second time, he became very calm and I felt like he knew who I was.  later that night when I got him back, he was crying while Don held him, but as soon as I held him, he stopped instantly.

I of course was sad that Oscar had to go to the NICU the first 24 hours, but it was also kind of nice I had that time to recover a little, as I was in pretty bad shape after the long delivery.  By Monday night Oscar was back in my room and Tuesday night was when we left the hospital for home. The girls came and visited me at the hospital Monday night. They were so excited to meet the baby and I was so happy to see them.  They were really good girls for Grandma Mary during my hospital stay.  When I arrived back home Tuesday night, they were  sleeping in my bed, waiting for me to get home.  I got quite the welcome home.  We all missed each other.  I did enjoy my hospital stay though.  My favorite part was ordering my food, and getting dessert with every meal.  I ate more than I did on our Honeymoon cruise.  A lot more.

I also should mention that it took us 2 days to decide on a name.  Truthfully, I still am a little nervous that we made the right decision.  His name seems to be a polarizing one.  But I like his name.  And our other options just didn't seem right.  Our list was :  Gordon, Reed, Neils, and Graham.  We finally decided on Oscar Reynold Mortensen.  And son, if you hate your name, I give you permission to legally change it.

It has been 3 and a half weeks since Oscar was born.  And this account has taken me days to finish.  I find myself being constantly interrupted.  I am behind with basically everything.  Don has been a champ this whole time.  Cleaning, shopping, laundry, etc. He is probably just as tired as I am but doesn't complain.  I am grateful to be feeling better though.  The first week was rough.  REALLY rough.  I will spare you the details.  But I am giving myself pats on the back for only having one real mental breakdown every day for the first week.  By the second week I started to see some improvements.  And now besides the sleep deprivation, I am feeling more like a real human again. Thankfully Oscar is a perfect baby.  He has had a few rough days, but I think he just had gas, and we all understand days like that, don't we?  ; )  He sleeps pretty much all the time.  The girls really love him.  They fight over holding him.  But of course they only want to hold him at the exact same time. They seem to become very interested in him mainly when the other one becomes interested in him.  It is that whole human nature thing of wanting something you can't have.

I know I am biased, but Oscar is a really pretty baby.  His skin is clear and he has just a little blonde fuzz on his head.  He has the skinniest legs I have ever seen, and absolutely no bottom.  He is a petite little thing, but has really long feet.  We really love him.  I am slowly getting used to having a boy.  Not that he is any different than a newborn girl, but just the concept of having a boy and all that entails, brings a new dynamic to our family.

We have been really spoiled with dinners and gifts and help and I feel overwhelmed by everyone's generosity.  and overwhelmed by the number of thank you cards I need to write!  Maybe by next year I will get them done!  Like I said, I have a very long list of things I need to get done, but I usually choose sleep over productivity.

And well, that is the story of how Oscar came into this world.  We are grateful he is finally here and look forward to getting to know him  (and a full night's sleep).

P.S. If anyone wants to be a surrogate mother for the next one, let me know.  I'll make you some cookies or something,