The next week was the worst week of my life. I was on bed rest and could only get up to shower or go to the bathroom. I was away from Diego and I was anxious and worried. After about the 4th IV site swelled up and I was in pain I refused the IV's and took my medication orally. I begged the doctor to let me go out of my room for a while in a wheel chair. So he wrote an order allowing me 15 minutes a day. The Husband was wonderful, he would come and spend the night with me every night, while someone kept Diego. Every morning he would wake up around 4:30 to go home and get ready for work. Diego would come visit me, but he would grow tired of the hospital and would go home to sleep. I was able to read the Twilight in one day, I watched so much tv and movies, and read countless magazines, and most of all slept. Every morning I would be rolled down to L & D and I would be hooked up to the monitors to check Dylan's heartbeat and for any contractions. Every day the doctor would come by and see me and tell me the plan, and talk away my worries. I'm sure I was annoying him with my questions, it's kinda hard to relax when you know are a nursing student and you know to much. The Neonatologists came to see me and explained to me their Plan A and B if Dylan would arrive before my induction date at 35 weeks. The Plan A & B, after he was born, since he would be a preemie.
So Thursday night, the night before they were to induce me came. The plan to start the Cervidil that thins out the cervix to help with the induction. I was dilated to a 3 so they decided against. That day I was having some small sporadic contractions. So we went to bed, and I planned to wake up early to shower before I would be induced at 6 or 7, I really cant remember the time. The next morning I woke showered and shaved, brushed my hair, and waited for them to come and get me. Well they didn't, at least not on time. I believe it was around 8 when we finally made our way to L & D, and the around 9 when they started the Pitocin. Once again, the first IV they started immediately swelled up, and had to remove it and try in another arm. Since I was 35 weeks now, my midwife was taking over my care. I was dilated to a 4/5, she came in, ruptured the amniotic sack, some where after the 3rd or 4th contraction I asked for my epidural, then I just slept for the next couple of hours. At one point I felt like I couldn't breathe and once again I woke up with an oxygen mask on. I progressed along pretty rapid, and by the time I was a 7 things just slowed down. We expected a fast labor, so we were kind of surprised. The midwife came in again around 11 or so, realized there was still some amniotic sack that hadn't ruptured, she did, and ordered for the epidural to be decreased down a notch. Presto! Let the games begin. Within an hour or so I was completely dilated and I was starting to feel pressure and the urge to push. I remember my sisters and Diego stopped by to visit. They left for about 10 minutes and came back and were told we were going to start pushing so they walked back to my room. By the time they got to my room, they heard the little music come on the hospital plays when a baby is born, and then received a call from The Husband. I remember with one contraction I pushed, and my midwife says "I better get dressed, this won't take long at all". The next contraction I pushed again, and instead of stopping to rest she told me keep on going, and I did, and then I heard Dylan cry. It took a whole whopping 5 maybe 10 minutes. I was like are you sure? I remember thinking, Wow that was easy, I think I can do this maybe one more time, but only for a split second. My labor and delivery with Dylan was far less stressful or tiring compared to Diego's. My oldest sister even told me I didn't look like I had a baby, compared to when I had Diego. I wasn't even tired or hardly in any pain, I guess it helped that he was so little. So on Feb 27th, 2009 Dylan came into this world weighing 5 lbs 15 ounces. He was a little guy but was as healthy as can be, except for the high bilibrubin levels. Poor Baby D stayed in the hospital an extra 5 days under bili lights. Actually, that week was the worst week of my life. Not being able to go home with him, or hold him all day only for feedings. I went home before Dylan since I still had Diego to tend to. I cried the whole way home, and that night and almost every day until he finally was allowed to come home. I visited him every day, all day at the hospital to nurse him, and I would go home put Diego to bed, and Daddy and I would go back to the hospital to nurse Dylan again before bed. Finally all was well, Dylan was allowed to come home, and it was the beginning of the rest of our lives as a family of four.
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