Reformed Grits

Big Baby Bee’s Birthday (and Birth-day story)
June 16, 2007, 10:48 pm
Filed under: Cute kids stuff

So how does one celebrate the first birthday of the last baby?  Carnivals?  Pony rides?  Super jumpy bouncy inflatables? 

Not at the Grits’ house. 

Most of the day was spent hanging around. 

I whipped up a batch of homemade ice cream and made a chocolate fudge cake in a Pyrex bowl and some cupcakes that I decorated to look like… what else?  Bees.  Really cute.  Just try to imagine the pictures.  Oh but that’s right… I left the battery charger cord somewhere in Washington DC or the vicinity so WE HAVE NO PICTURES OF BEE ON HER BIRTHDAY.  My mom stopped by and took some pics but the setting on her camera was screwed up royally so actually we have a couple but most of them are fuzzy.  Here’s one of the cake and cupcakes and Bee’s little legs. 

Copy_of_img_0474 So my reflections on this momentious occasion?  I am a little sniffly, weepy.  I have loved her baby-hood and have enjoyed it more than any of the others, I think.   Thoughts of one year ago when I had her and I was so miserable and in pain make me sad that it was so long ago and blurred–what should have been treasured memories.

I’ll share a little about what happened in memory of the day…

My pregnancy with Bee was really a great one.  I didn’t get very sick.  I didn’t get very big at all.  This is a tummy shot less than a week before I had her:

Dscn1199 I had been able to sleep thanks to my good friend Ambien.  I didn’t turn in to a raving lunatic like I had with some of the others.  I actually enjoyed this pregnancy, which if you know about any of the others you know I am usually a psychotic nightmare.

All was going well, until the Sunday before I had her.  Mr. Grits had walked in to Sunday school that day (he had led worship so had left home before I got up so he hadn’t seen me that morning) and said he was so startled at how swollen I was.  Of course he didn’t say anything for fear he’d hurt my feelings.  That night after the kids had gone to bed, my vision started doing weird things.  I actually was having occular migraines  as I found out the next day when I went to the eye doctor, thinking maybe I had a detached retina or something.  While I was there, he took my blood pressure on a whim and said it was fine.  When I asked him what it was, I almost jumped out of my chair– it was very high for me (my normal is usually 90/60.  It was around 125/82 or so.)  He tried to assure me it was totally in the normal range but I freaked out and left, calling my OB immediately.  They wanted to see me of course, and my mother in law drove me, which was a good thing because while I was in the waiting room I had another occular migraine and it morphed in to a full-blown migraine.  My BP was high there but my dr said that he was sure it was because I was in pain (if I had been thinking I would have told him that the BP rise came before the pain but I didn’t.)  He was actually trying to assuade my fears of having toxemia, which I had with Jojo.  What he actually said was that it was impossible for me to have that again– either I would have had it every time or never again.   I thought that was a little weird.  I should also know as soon as someone says, "Impossible…"  well, you know…

So she takes me home, puts me to bed after having stopped for some serious pain meds.  I slept the rest of the day. 

The next day I rested all day in bed, with the BP cuff next to me.  My upper stomach hurt but I figured "It must be gas or something since it CAN’T possibly be toxemia."  I drank like a fish.  I rested on my left side, but my BP was still high and I just plain old felt bad.  If you have ever had high BP you know you just don’t feel good when it’s too high. 

Wednesday came, and it was time for my 36 week check up with the OB.  I was just waiting to hear what he would say.  They took my BP and it was high still- surprise.   The lab tech came flying in with high protein in my urine.   They wanted to say I was dehydrated– I was not.  The doc was befuddled.  He said, "It just can’t be, but something’s not right."  I told him SWELLING, HEADACHES, VISION DISTURBANCES, HIGH BP, PROTEIN?  HELLO???  So he clicked my knees and I was jumpy (another sign of toxemia.)  He said to let him know if my stomach started hurting.  I told him about the previous day.  He pressed on my stomach and made a face.  He got a lab slip out and sent me downtown for labs that would come back the next day instead of Friday.

Thursday we were in touch all day about my BP.  By the end of the day, I was looking forward to getting up and going to dinner at some friends’ house some other folks.  I had been in bed all week except for when I was at the doctor’s and I was ready for some fun and to get out!  I still felt bad but was growing accustomed to it, thinking I’d just sit on the couch with my feet up anyhow.  I could socialize from the couch.  My mom gets to my house to babysit for us, and the doctor’s office calls.  My labs are back and they want me to come in for observation.  Things just aren’t right and we aren’t taking chances. 


So I called Mr. Grits to hurry home, I throw a bag together with a couple of things– but not to stay– and downtown we go to our very familiar spot– the hospital where all our kids have been born.    We get to the L&D and they put me in an observation room with a woman who just had a c-section at 34 weeks.  She’s very excited but doesn’t realize she’s going to be there a while.  They hook me up and do all my deals and tests and I really am not feeling well at all. 

In fact… my stomach is KILLING ME.  I ask for help.  It gets worse.  I BEG for help.  My BP is sky high and I am confined to completely flat and on my left side.  I can’t get up at all or the BP cuff pops off my arm trying to get a reading it’s so high.  (Literally this happened a number of times.)   I’m lying there when all of a sudden I have an ocular migraine and minutes later, my head is splitting.  I’m told they will induce me in the morning.  They start me on magnesium sulfate to lower my BP and keep me from stroking out.  They also give me demoral and phenergan.  The moment it hits my system, something happens.  The only way I feel I can describe it is to say it feels like a can opener has opened my head.  I am writhing and screaming in pain.  I’m crying and begging God to take me.  This continues for… way too long.  5 minutes.  10 minutes.  "Wait for the medicine to work," they told me.  I am crying and grabbing my head.   It sounds like bells are going off in my head and I’m only vaguely aware of what’s going on around me.  I do remember seeing Mr. Grits on the floor next to me on his knees, praying out loud for me.  I don’t know how long this continues.  30 minutes or more?  An hour?  It felt like eternity.  Eventually they came in and gave me morphine in my IV line and I was able to bear it.   They moved me to a L&D room and told me I was they were inducing tonight.    All I could think was that there was NO WAY I could go through labor in as much "other" pain as I was in.  Can you imagine being in labor with a migraine?   It was a million times worse.  The Mag made me vomit.  Repeatedly.  If I tried to talk, I barfed.  If I tried to be conscious, I vomited.  I couldn’t see well because I had double vision.  My head hurt SO badly.  And we still don’t know why, because this continued for weeks after she was born, but my neck and the base of my head felt like it was burning on the inside– like a burning pain.   

After those events, I don’t remember much else, probably in part to the Mag.  I know they broke my water, and then gave me a nice stout epidural.  I never felt any labor pain at all.  I didn’t sleep that night very well– off and on, but more like in and out of consciousness.  I was excited, but disappointed I felt so "out of control."  I like remembering every detail of my labors and deliveries.  In fact, I had even caught my last baby, Sugie, and I had looked forward to doing it again.   Next thing I know, it’s time for me to push.  Fortunately I’m so drugged up I’m able to do it without pain; but the activity of it causes me to vomit– a lot.  The doctor (not mine but the delivery doctor) walks in and says, "Please tell me this is your last baby."  Yes, it is. 

I tried to watch but double vision prevented it.   I tried to push but had no muscle control.  Finally I just tried to kind of "sit up" and look and that helped her be born in no time.  I remember looking once and seeing her tiny little head coming out and strangely enough her looking around with a terrified look on her face.  I tried to reach down to touch her but everyone told me not to.  There was just too much going on. I laid back, sat up again to push and the doctor was holding her right there for me.  I couldn’t believe how tiny she was.  Her head was the size of a tennis ball.  I remember Mr. Grits saying, "We are gonna be here a while."  I didn’t think she was THAT tiny but everyone agreed.  They laid her on me.  I had so looked forward to that moment.  I had dreamed of it.  The moment that my precious little baby girl was born– the child God sent to heal our broken hearts after the death of our little boy not even a year before.   Mr. Grits and I often talked about the floodgates that would open when we heard that cry for the first time. 

But none of that happened.  I immediately shoved her to the nurse– and vomited.  Repeatedly.  And fell asleep.

To be continued… 



5 Comments so far
Leave a comment

Wow, I’m on the edge of my seat! I’m totally riveted, having never heard Bee’s birth story before…

Comment by Kristi

OK ….I cannot continue you to read your blog while I am pregnant!!! It is too much for me.
I am all weepy and snotty and I am going to miss Sunday school now!!
Can you block me off your site until after Oct.? 😉

Comment by Andrea

I thought this yesterday when you reminded me that it was her birthday. That was one scary time!

I still can hear your exhausted hubby’s voice over the phone in the wee hours of the morning saying, “we have a baby….”. I didn’t know if she was o.k. the way he said it. It was a horrible feeling.

Comment by Caroline

Wow…I remember Lynda saying all that was going on, but she, of course, didn’t know all those details. Looking forward to the rest of the story.

Comment by Kristi

Member how I was going 2 stay there but Stephen wouldnt let me? Yeah, I’m glad I didnt!! I would have been freaking out!!

Comment by katester

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