Hey bffs! It's May 13 , 2013 and my website it being updated. Seriously, you are going to love all the changes. Please check back in a day or two (or three--you know how it is!) and check out the awesome for yourself. Thank you! *huggs* Kelli
A Daily Dose Of All Things Birth Stories
Today's beautiful belly picture comes from bff Alisha.
You are *stunning* Alisha
Today's featured friend of the show is Elisabeth at Glimling.com
This product is inexpensive and easy to put on clothes and backpacks. They really help to keep kids safe. Brilliant product Elisabeth!
Elisabeth of Glimling on the left and Kelli of BSOD on the right
At Bebe Paluzza in Indianapolis Bffs
Today's Featured Birth Story. Tricia didn't know she was pregnant:
Tricia's birth of Tyler
My boyfriend and I were both juniors in high school. I was having terrible kidney problems and recurrent bladder infections. At the doctor's office, I was given medicine for bladder infections and was tested for other problems to try to find out what was wrong. I was given a routine blood test to rule out pregnancy and it came back negative. Two months later the infections were extremely bad and no medication seemed to be helping. My doctor suspected that my kidneys were failing, so I was referred to the hospital for further tests. At the hospital I was supposed to have a special x-ray done of my kidney so they could see what was going on. They did an x-ray of my stomach to locate my kidneys when I was told, "We can't give you this test today!" The doctor came in and showed me the x-ray and said, "That's a baby inside there." I just said, “Wwhhhhaaaaatttttt?” with amazement and shock. I'm not sure why the doctor felt she had to be so mean, but she responded with, "That's what happens when little boys and little girls have unprotected sex." That's how I found out I was pregnant.
My grandma had taken me to the hospital, so I came out to tell her that they couldn't do the test. I didn't tell her I was pregnant. Next, I went to see my mom and I told her I was pregnant and she got me an appointment for the doctor that day. I couldn't tell my boyfriend because he had a big football game that night. It was our cross-town rival, and I didn't want him to be distracted. At my doctor’s appointment the doctor said it was a very big baby and I was between five and six months pregnant. My first instinct was to get an abortion. I called the clinic and made an appointment. I had to wait a week. After the game that night, our team had lost; I called my boyfriend. He didn't feel like talking because he was so upset about losing the game. I spent that whole night not knowing what to do. The next day he came over and I told him. It was weird; we didn't talk and just sat there in silence. I told him that I had already called the abortion clinic, and if it was okay with him, that's what I was going to do. Right then, I felt like it was the only choice I had. I knew there was no way I could go through with this pregnancy. Mostly though, I was doing all of this while I was still in shock. My mother told my boyfriend that he would have to talk to his parents and then I would have to tell my dad. We decided to tell them after the abortion.
We drove three hours to the clinic. I was getting ready for the procedure when they did an ultrasound to see how far along I was. They said I was between eight and eight and a half months pregnant and too far along for them to be able to do the abortion. Now I'm really confused. The doctor said that it was only five months along……then this. We went home. I didn't know what to think. It all seemed impossible.
I carried the baby deep in my back. I didn't show at all. Once we learned that I was pregnant, we could tell because I was walking funny. Other than that, no one could tell I was pregnant. I also played basketball. There were only two weeks left in the season and there was no way I was telling the coach. I decided to just stick it out. Honestly, I didn't play that much anyway.
My mom made an appointment with the OB. I couldn't get in to see a doctor though. I could only see the midwife. We couldn't figure out when I had gotten pregnant. I didn't have my periods, but I never did when I was playing basketball. The midwife said I was probably seven to eight months pregnant, but she was just guessing. She also explained to me that my body just denied the pregnancy. If you don't know it, and you don't think it, then your body can deny it. I never felt anything but maybe I was denying the signs. This was probably the cause of all of my kidney problems.
I went home to act "normal." I didn't want to say anything until I started showing. My boyfriend told his parents and I told my dad. It was awkward. His parents were upset but understanding. I was terrified to talk to his parents. I felt like this was all my fault and that I had put my boyfriend into this situation. I felt so guilty. I was living with all of this stuff. I would wake up in the night and cry because I just didn't know what to do. My boyfriend had it bad too. He didn't talk to anyone, not his brother, not anyone. It was just the two of us trying to make sense of all of this and it wasn't working. We had also decided that since I HAD to have this baby, we were going to put it up for adoption. My boyfriend's mom was worried that I would change my mind. I knew I wouldn't. We were too young, and I just knew I couldn't do this.
Another thing that was making this all crazy was that I must have gotten pregnant before we even had sex. At one point we had tried to have sex and stopped, that must have been enough to get pregnant. So my pregnancy and when we had sex didn't match up. My boyfriend started to question me about that. To him, it must have looked like I had cheated. I assured him that I hadn't. He got over that quickly. I however, couldn't get over it. I felt like I was going crazy and didn't know what to think.
Two weeks after I found out I was pregnant; I had a Tuesday night basketball game. On Wednesday I started to get contractions, but I didn't know what they were. I just couldn't sleep. I went to school those two days but Friday was the worst. The baby had dropped so much that you could almost tell I was pregnant. I could hardly wear my regular clothes. I didn't know what was happening so I called my mom and asked her to bring me some Tylenol because I couldn't take it anymore. My mom made an appointment with the midwife for that night. It was the regional finals in football and I was planning on attending the game. My mother insisted that I keep the appointment with the midwife. So I missed the game.
At the appointment I tried to drink water so they could do the ultrasound. I was checked and they discovered I was dilated to 7cm. I had to call my mother and tell her that we were having the baby tonight. They were going to try to stop the contractions but it was probably too late. They gave me some medicine that really made me tired and weak. Unfortunately, it didn't stop my labor. My mom and my grandma came to the hospital. The doctor determined that I had been having contractions for three days but after my water broke it took only 15 minutes to have the baby. The baby was taken right away so I didn't get to see him at all. I really didn't want to because at that point we were still to give the baby up for adoption. It didn't bother me, and I really didn't know what was going on. I didn't feel any different, just tired. I was just not attached to the pregnancy. At midnight I saw my baby, Tyler. I really didn't know what to think. He was on oxygen and around two months premature. I went into early labor because of my bladder infection, an extreme amount of stress with everything that had happened over the previous 14 days. Just before the regional football game, my boyfriend's parents told him that I was in the hospital and that they were going to try to stop the labor. His mom found out after the game that she was a grandmother. No one could find my boyfriend to tell him but everyone else knew. It's a very small town. My boyfriend's brother had come home for the game. Before the game, he was told about the pregnancy. He then found out I had the baby after the game. It was even crazy on him.
The baby was on a table with a heating light and his head was under a tent with oxygen when all of the parents and my boyfriend saw him that first night. My boyfriend's parents said he looked like him when he was a baby. From that point on I think they started to change their mind about adoption. I think they felt a connection there. I think they knew before we did that we wanted to keep him.
Two or three nights after I had him my milk came in. My boobs were humongous, and I had to ask my mom what was happening. I just didn't know. I went back to school on Tuesday, four days after I delivered. I was so nervous to go back but my boyfriend was even more scared. I promised him that I wouldn't make him go through this by himself, so I went to school. There were a lot of stares and questions. I was there a half a day. I was fine but not really ready yet.
We were told by the doctor to keep coming to the hospital to visit Tyler. Even though he was healthy that could all change quickly since he was so small. Someone had to be there for him. We started going every night after school to see him (the hospital is an hour away.) At that point we were still contemplating adoption. We went to an adoption agency where we got counseling. Four weeks after we had him, we decided to keep him. My boyfriend and I talked about it. This had to be a mutual decision because I wasn't going to do this myself. We never told our parents that we made a decision; I think they just knew. When Tyler was big enough to come home he lived with my mom and me. A friend threw a huge baby shower for us.
It's been almost three years now and that whole two weeks seems like a blur. I can't remember all that happened. I don't even remember much of the labor. My boyfriend and I graduated from high school and are currently attending the same college. We are still together and living with our son in a small apartment.
**Tricia came onto the show to talk about her story. You can listen to her here: http://www.birthstoriesondemand.com/podcast/015-tricia-tells-us-her-i-didnt-know-i-was-pregnant-story-14.html
Today's beautiful belly picture comes from bff Collette ❤
Today's featured friend of the show are my bff's Cheri and Lennox at
Cookies that encourage milk production for nursing moms!
Today's featured birth story is a premie story:
Let me start by telling you that my husband, Roger, and I had purchased a new construction home in March. Our house was to be done in September and our closing was scheduled for September 24. On September 23, at about 4:30 p.m., I was finishing up some last-minute packing when I felt water trickling down my leg. Since I was only 28 weeks along in my pregnancy, I didn't suspect it was my water breaking. Upon inspection, I noticed it was clear so I paged my doctor. She suspected I was in premature labor and instructed me to go immediately to the hospital where I had planned to deliver.
Once I arrived at the hospital, they took a culture from the fluid I was leaking and the results showed it was amniotic fluid. My OB told me that because I was so early they would have to transfer me to another hospital that had a Level three NICU (neonatal intensive care unit.) The hospital then called around to find a bed for my daughter and me. They found them at a hospital about an hour away. I was to be transferred by ambulance at around 9:30 p.m. To prepare for transfer I was given a steroid shot (to help encourage Amanda's organs to grow quickly), an IV, and a shot to stop the contractions that had started (only for the ambulance ride.) I arrived at my new hospital at about 10:30 p.m. My contractions had started by that time. They were quickly becoming very strong, but they were not showing up on the monitor. I was told that it was because I was having back labor. Since this was premature labor, they had to use a catheter to take a urine sample to culture it for infection. My nurse was very understanding in the fact that I did not want the catheter left in. She allowed me to use a bedpan instead. (When in premature labor you are not allowed to get out of bed, they do not want to encourage labor, but they will not stop it.)
When the OB came to check on me at around 4:15 a.m. on September 24, to see why I was huffing and puffing a lot, he found I was 2cm dilated and 100% effaced. When I was admitted, they put me in an observation room so the doctor ordered me to be moved to a delivery room. In the short journey to the delivery room, I dilated to a full 10cm. I was screaming for the nurse to let me push and was told to wait for the doctors. The OB resident and the neonatologist arrived at 5:05 a.m. I pushed once and delivered Amanda at 5:06 a.m. on September 24. She was 2lbs, 5oz and 13 inches long. After they settled me in to a recovery room and settled Amanda in at the NICU, Roger left to close on our house.
Roger had to call the lawyer to see how to close without me. He was instructed to have me sign a power of attorney to allow him to be the only one on the mortgage. After about four hours of driving between the hospital and the lawyer's office, he finally signed the papers for our new home.
As for Amanda, at the NICU she was given an IV for nourishment, had three wires put through her umbilical cord for antibiotics and was put on a respirator to help her breathe. After about 10 hours, they removed the respirator and allowed her to breathe on her own. For the rest of her stay she breathed on her own with supplemental oxygen. During her two month stay at the hospital, they did ultrasounds on her brain, blood tests, and x-rays on her lungs and digestive system. The ultrasound on her brain was to see if there was any bleeding; lucky there was none. The x-rays showed that her lungs were developing normally. Her digestive system was a little sluggish but it did catch up.
About two days after birth they started to tickle her stomach with breast milk to prepare it for normal feedings. She was fed through a tube in her nose for one month. During her second month stay they started her on a bottle. It took her about two weeks to get the suck, swallow, and breathe method down. As for her blood tests, those were to watch her red blood cell count. In a premature baby the red blood cells help them to continuously breathe; when the count is low, they can have problems breathing or stop breathing all together. Due to low red blood cell count and prematurity she developed apnea and bradycardia spells. This means she would periodically forget to breathe and that her heart would then drop below 80 beats. They started her on a drug called Theophylline (which reminds her to breathe) and gave her two blood transfusions.
Amanda came home on November 23, on Theophylline and an apnea monitor. The apnea monitor beeps at us if she stops breathing and/or her heart rate drops. She will be on both of these for at least another four months. She now eats everything from a bottle but is still a little slow. As for her size, she is a heavy 4lbs, 7oz and 20in long. She still looks very tiny and fragile compared to full term babies but to us she looks beautiful.
I believe that those two months will be the most difficult thing I will ever experience. You are unable to bond the way a mother and full-term baby can. I felt helpless watching her lay there with tubes sticking out of her. I kept thinking to myself, "I'm her mother. I should be able to help her in some way." Now I know that pumping and saving my breast milk was the best thing I could do for her. We appreciate this blessing in our life more now than we did before.
Today's Beautiful Belly Picture comes from bff Angel
★ Beautiful Painted Belly ★
Today's featured friend of the show is my bff Colleen who is the author of
Near Mama's Heart
"This is the sweetest book I've ever seen! Seriously, you can not look at all of those beautiful pictures without smiling." ~Kelli Stapleton of BSOD
Today's featured birth story is Kelly's Birth of Tiffany- A "quick entrance" story
This was my second child (a girl). I had just moved to a new city and was only going to see my new obstetrician for the last four weeks. I was 1cm dilated by 36 weeks and only about 1.5cm by the 38 weeks. I was originally due October 7, but by my September 23 visit my doctor said I wouldn't make it to my 40th week. We scheduled to induce the September 29 so I could plan for out-of-town family. My doctor gave me the rundown for signs of labor and when to come into the hospital, which included: having my water break or having contractions that were five minutes apart.
Let me preface by saying that my water had broken with my first child. We showered and did dishes before going to the hospital. I was in the birthing room about 12 hours total and had to actually push for two of those hours. He was 8lbs, 8oz, 22in. I had my epidural with him when I was 4cm and the birth was wonderful. I had planned on the same scenario with her.
At my appointment on September 23, I asked if there was anything I could do to encourage labor. I didn't think I was dilating fast enough for him to agree to induce labor by September 29. He advised against walking saying all that would do would make my back and legs sore. He did mention that having intercourse and letting the semen "rest" inside me would help soften my cervix so we tried this the night of the September 24 in order to help my body progress for the induction. The morning of September 26, I awoke with abdomen pressure about 6:45 a.m. I wasn't really sure if it was a contraction or not and went back to sleep. I didn't get another feeling of pressure till 7:30 a.m. Then the pressure (now understanding they were contractions) came about every half hour till 9:00 a.m. at which point I decided to get out of bed to get breakfast. My husband was occupying our toddler Tyler. I ate and went downstairs to pay some bills because I knew I wouldn't want to later.
The contractions stayed about 15 minutes apart until about 10:00 a.m. I decided to pack my bag and get ready to go. My husband had already showered and was also getting ready. At about 10:35 a.m. the contractions were about ten minutes apart but somewhat sporadic, and I figured we should go ahead and get ready to head out the door.
I felt some pressure and I thought it was a bowel movement. I so desperately did not want to be "the one that went to the bathroom on the birthing table" so I figured I would try to go to the bathroom before we left. At 10:50 a.m., sitting on the toilet, my mucus plug came out. In hindsight, I realize my contractions went from seven to three minutes apart in a matter of minutes. I knew we needed to go. My husband had been next door attempting to get the many neighbors, who had graciously agreed to watch our son, but it was Sunday morning and everyone had already left for church. Tyler would have to stay with us. I decided to lie down on our bed and relax and maybe slow the contractions down, but the minute I laid down, my water broke. I remembered we took our time after my water broke with my son so I wasn't too panicked. Just as my water broke, my husband and son came into the room and my husband asked if he should get the van or call 911. I told him neither and that he needed to pull my shorts off. At which point he did, and her head was already halfway out. Just one push later and her head was completely out. Another five seconds and another push and she was completely out.
My husband quickly got on the phone to call 911 while simultaneously getting the bulb syringe (that we used to suck out our son's nose when he was an infant). He sucked out her nose and mouth and was giving directions to the 911 operator. I thought the operator was giving him instructions about what to do for our daughter, but he told me later all they wanted was to know the quickest way to get to our house (nice help!!!). All the while, Tyler was standing beside me at the head of our bed. When she came out and we got the ever-so-reassuring scream, Tyler repeated with concern, "No baby cry." I told him that this was a good thing and that we wanted the baby to cry. He seemed satisfied with that. The ambulance got there within four minutes. The paramedics came in, cut the cord and transported me to the hospital with the placenta still intact. The ‘on-call’ obstetrician from my doctor's group delivered the placenta there; then the testing and paperwork became business as usual.
My daughter Tiffany Leann weighed 7lbs, 8oz. The only side effect to her was some bruising on her face which looked like a rash. The doctor said that was due to the fact that she came out so fast but I'm thinking she couldn't have come out any slower at the hospital, or even if I tried. She did also have to stay an extra day to rule out some preliminary test results that indicated an infection but that turned out to be non-existent.
If I had to do it all over again I would still opt for the comfort and security of the epidural in the hospital probably because I'm the type person that really likes everything planned and organized. But really her birth was a blessing because I didn't have to push like with my son, so I didn't have the after effect of hemorrhoids (that were horrendous) with him. I only had a half a degree tear that healed in a matter of days. After the fact, many people have told me that five minutes for contractions is too close for a second child and we should have left for the hospital right away. They say the second one comes faster; but how are you supposed to know how much faster?
The running joke in our family now is that if we have a third that I'll have to hire a nurse to spend the last few weeks at home with me. Just in case.
Today's beautiful belly picture comes from BFF LaDonna.
She is a surrogate and carrying *TWINS*!
You could not be more beautiful LaDonna
Today's friend of the show is
Their Motto: “We are not here to judge, we are only here to wax!”
Zelda on the left and Kelli of BSOD on the Right and our bffs from the Naked Monkey in the middle.
These girls were *awesome*
Todays featured birth story comes from BFF Melissa who has not *one* but *two* sets of *TWINS*:
Our twin baby boys arrived at 26 weeks instead of 40, robbed of 35% of their gestation and placed at the knife’s edge of viability with a shot at a normal life. The list of disabilities and damages the doctors might likely find was heartbreaking. Death was not excluded, nor was it the worst thing. For the next 103 days while the hospital kept them and watched them, IV’ed them and operated on them, we waded through time like it was made of cement. Each day, each hour, each heartbeat of plastic incubator walls, xrays and brain scans washed us with worry and pain, but each tick inched us closer to the time they could come home. I would have given anything to have them away from the cables & monitors, the huge heavy hospital doors miles from our house. I wanted to envelop them in peace and quiet in our home forever.
That brush with death developed into a gift. When the boys were finally released, I was marveled by the heavenly feelings we felt after the happy union. They sent me floating on a cloud of joy that deepened over the weeks and months. I tickled, I laughed, I watched my husband hold and soothe our dear boys as I physically lived one of my favorite childhood songs “there is beauty all around, there is joy in every sound, roses bloom beneath our feet, all the earth’s a garden sweet, making life a bliss complete when there’s love at home.” Strangers consistently told me how calm, peaceful and patient I seemed for having twin babies. The care, love and joy I gave and received from my little babies as they grew through to their first and second birthdays was incredibly satisfying, soul-stilling, breathtaking. I wanted to make sure that this lasted forever.
The only constant is change, and due to a number of factors and an unbelievable journey I won’t get into here, two other little twin baby boys joined us at a much healthier gestation (34 weeks) two years after their brothers and, in comparison, sailed right home from the hospital although not without reminders of our first brush with death. We hired full-time help. We tightened our budget. We sang a lot of silly songs. We changed a lot of diapers. We got a lot of funny looks when we went out with our quad stroller. Amazingly, despite the growing workload and occasional outburst, I was still fairly calm, patient, in good control of my temper, and wanted to keep it that way.
But one day, when my boys were well into three and my babies were rounding over 18 months, I realized that things had shifted. I was yelling at my kids more. I frequently lost my patience, and even when I was calm it wasn’t the same loving gentleness I had before. Things I had skimmed over in parenting books were now coming to the forefront, again from Turansky: "First baby: You spend a good bit of every day just gazing at the baby. Second baby: You spend a bit of every day watching to be sure your older child isn't squeezing, poking, or hitting the baby. Third baby: You spend a little bit of each day hiding from the children." When my kids were fighting for their lives in the NICU I would have done anything for them, I had a dream of a beautiful, peaceful, happy home. OK, maybe it was unrealistic, and . I don't want to give the impression that we were always fighting or screaming at each other. In fact, overall I think we still looked pretty happy, especially for having 2 sets of twins, but something has shifted. Things are harder. A LOT harder! And despite what I kept telling myself- they aren't going to get easier!!
So I'm using this blog as a sort of project to help me get back to the dream I had a long time ago of a peaceful home where life is "a bliss complete". I've been researching tons of parenting books and came up with a bunch of goals I'm going to work on this last year before my kids start school. Hopefully, we can build a foundation that will bring out the best in our whole family now and throughout our family's lifetime (which may be very long indeed).
You can follow Melissa and her amazing family
on their blog here: