A Little Vacation

Friday morning I checked into the hospital for some fluids. At first I felt terrible and defeated and super down. I was really tired too. It's really embarrassing for me to have to go in and go through the process of getting admitted because when I'm that low I can't walk and all I do is cry. (The nurse who started (and failed 3 times) my IV asked while I sniffled and moaned "Is this your first pregnancy?" No my third "Oh, how old is your oldest?" three. "OH HAHA WOW" and my soft cry goes from hysterical I cannot breathe cry. "I'll stop talking so you stop crying." thank you.) I hadn't kept anything down for two days, and I couldn't sleep through the nausea at night so I puked instead of slept. Yea, that's exhausting. When it gets really hard like that sometimes I just have to rehydrate to get back on my feet. Once I got some fluids and meds and my throat started to heal I was feeling better I was totally cool with it though.

They didn't even make me wear a hospital gown this time. 

SCORE!

Plus I got wheeled to ultrasound (and passed the cafeteria where they were FRYING FISH at 10am!!! Stupid fish.) and got to see a sweet little baby moving about in my belly. 

and baby was suckin' a thuuuuuumb! 

DOUBLE SCORE!

I didn't have to keep down meds because they went through my IV. 

I didn't have to eat a thing because the fluids were my food, and we had to let my throat and esophagus heal so it'd stop bleeding from the rawness of acid erosion.  

I didn't have to change diapers, wipe butts, pick up spills, and feed and chase children for two days!

While I do not typically enjoy my stays here at the hospital, this one felt like a vacation. 

You know, minus the beach and water and plus the needles.

It's weird, but it was kinda of nice not throwing up for two days and not even having to force myself to eat. 

Philip's been working so much I hardly ever see him anymore, but lucky for me he felt sorry enough for me to take off of work and keep me company.

 

 We pretty much just did this: 

-watched Mr. Deeds

-exceeded our data plans on iphone words with friends and family fued

and when he went home I slept WITHOUT having to wake up to take anyone to the bathroom or change a diaper or walk a dog.

 

I came home with a new love for Sprite, which I'm sure I'll be over by Tuesday or something.

I missed my babies so it was good to cuddle on them again. 

Then life resumed and I was back on duty.

Being on duty is a lot easier when I feel well.

Oh well, at least no one is waking me up to check my vitals anymore.

I had a dream baby was a girl a while back so I've been convinced we'd get another sister. Now I'm starting to second guess and think baby is a boy. So since I'm all confused and can't make up my mind I put up a poll over there top right of the blog. Tell me what you think it is. I'm usually always wrong, and for Adeline it seemed like everyone guessed girl and for Gideon everyone guessed boy. So you're pretty much probably righter than me in gender guessing my baby.

:) 

We will know in March! 

Thank You Nurse Julie

I wanted to take a while to write about something that's been on my heart since Gideon's birth. 

Since January 2007 I've been in the hospital 6 times. [1 appendectomy, 2 births, and 3 times for dehydration from my hyperemisis in pregnancies] I've gained a whole new respect for nurses during my hospital stays. I've been cared for by a lot of sweet and kind nurses and some snotty rude ones too.Nurses do the brunt of the work around that place, and it ain't always pretty! I can only imagine most of them probably hating some of the icky tasks they have to do, but with most of them you'd never be able to tell that passed the smile on their faces. 

This hospital stay God blessed me with an angel of a nurse. Her name was Julie, and I don't think I'll ever forget her. She was my nurse throughout most of my labor and the entire birth of Gideon, even though she was scheduled to get off an hour before. 

I had a really painful labor because Gideon was OP (face up). I stayed at 1 1/2 cm for a couple of hours, and then stayed at 4 cms for around 4 or 5 hours. The baby hadn't even dropped yet, and we couldn't figure out why he was so high up. My doctor started to hint that we'd probably have to do a section if things didn't change, and the thought of surgery terrified me. 

If Julie wasn't there, I think I'd have probably ended up going that route. 

At the time we didn't know if the baby's head was too big to drop or if he was OP, but Julie worked with me and helped me trydifferent positions to encourage him to get low enough to help me finish dilating, which, praise Jesus, eventually worked. 

She brought me pillows, she kept the towels on my forehead cold, and she joked with my husband, which is something I really appreciated since he was after all, part of this whole thing too.

She knew how absolutely terrified I was to get an epidural again since my first experience was so horrible. She talked me through the options and she stayed with me when the pain was unbearable and I begged her to get me that anesthesiologist.

He walked in and my blood pressure and heart rate sky rocketed. 

I instantly began to tremble in fear and cry and moan during the contractions I didn't think I could manage any longer. 

I was gross with sweat, tears, and Lord knows what else, and Julie just held my hands and put my head between her neck and her shoulder as I shook and sobbed.
I could tell she was a mother.

I remember being so embarrassed at how hard I was squeezing her dainty little hands and how I was saturating her scrubs with tears, but the real embarrassment came when the anesthesiologist started feeling my back for an appropriate entry zone and with the pressure some more of my water leaked down my legs and onto the floor and I'm pretty sure onto Julie's feet. 

She was nothing but encouraging, supportive, and comforting to me, and I felt so safe and taken care of. 

My epidural this time only took one entry, but it was over all unsuccessful in the end. 

I'd pray in between contractions to have Gideon drop lower and my cervix dilate more, and then I'd call Julie during my contractions to come and see if my prayers were answered yet.

I must have had her check me every 10 or 15 minutes, which I realize now was probably more often than needed, but she always came back in eager to help and relieve me.

I had an hour to progress before they were going to have to take the baby via C-section, and in that hour, with God watching over us and Julie helping me, I did just that-progress. 

When the pressure started and I knew I was about to have to start pushing, all I could do was beg Julie to help me, I would just cry as she held my hand, gave me pep talks, and Philip fed me ice.

I know Philip was thankful for her being there too, because this labor being much more intense and painful that Adeline's left him with a feeling of helplessness, foot-in-mouth syndrome, and then a loss of words. Julie stepped up to the plate and helped my mind and my body get the job done.

After what felt like hours pushing, I started to feel the exhaustion and began thinking I couldn't do it anymore. 

That was when my sweet, lovely, supportive nurse turned all army lady on me and demanded that I look at her. 

"Courtney, you CAN do this, and you WILL do this. Now PUSH."

I trusted her. I believed her. I listened to her. and then I immediately after delivered my son. 

Then I cried for about an hour and 20 minutes straight. 

I feel as though she herself personally helped to give me one of the most precious gifts life offers.

Julie was scheduled to get off right before I began pushing, but she stayed for me. 

I almost didn't want her to leave.

She spent her 12 hour shift making me feel like the most important patient in the entire hospital. She made the most painful, miserable 16 hours of my life something I will never forget. 

She went above and beyond, and she didn't even have to.

I've thanked God for her mark on our lives every day since Gideon was born. 

She'll never know how much she meant to me that day, even though I've written her to tell her.

She came in the next day to visit me, but I was sleeping so she didn't wake me up; I wish she would have.

I asked my nurse that day if she could have her come back, but she must have already been off or been too busy because I never did get to see her again, and I really wish I could have. 

I'm sure she's as wonderful to every one of her patients, as she was to me.

I'm sure she has no clue how much I genuinely appreciate and really needed her that day...

and she was only doing her job.

Imagine if we all did our jobs so graciously. 

Imagine how many lives we could impact by simply being so kind and caring to one another. 

Julie has meant so much to me in so many different ways, and I don't even know her.

She's inspiring and amazing, and I know there's a special spot for her saved in heaven!