One year later we were ready to add to our little family. At Cy's 1 year birthday party we gave him a book entitled “I’m a Big Brother Now” to announce the news to the family. We chose a doctor in Joplin MO and made an appointment for when I would be 12 weeks. But I knew I’d never make it to that appointment. There was something wrong and I knew it. When I started to bleed around 6 or 7 weeks I took it in stride. A neighbor lady took me to the Dr. I don’t even remember his name. He confirmed that I was indeed miscarrying. I went home and spent the rest of the day nursing Cy on the couch. It was the easiest miscarriage I have ever had. But it compounded the growing depression that I had experienced with each pregnancy loss. Robert lost his job rather unexpectedly a month later. I had 3 days notice that we would be moving to Muskogee. My dad was dying with cirrhosis.
Three months in Muskogee felt like three years. But it was enough time to become pregnant again. I don’t know why I was in such a hurry to get pregnant. Maybe it was a way to deal with the increasing depression. Some of it was due to my circumstances, I’m sure. But I think some of it must be hormonal too. I often feel my best when I’m expecting. Maybe it’s because I don’t like to lose and so far the score was losses:3 babies:1
My dad passed away when I was two months along. It had been a long time in coming. My dad was my hero. A veteran of the Navy and volunteer firefighter, he had been strong and brave and handsome. The revelation that he was majorly abusing prescriptions drugs blindsided the entire family. I was angry with my dad. Angry with prescription drugs and angry with the doctors that I felt had let him down. The ones that had given him the back surgeries that he demanded and prescribed the drugs. Without even realizing it, I started mistrusting doctors and medicine in general. My reading and internet perusing became even more focused on natural and alternative methods.
After my dad’s funeral, we decided to move back to Oklahoma City so Robert could go back to school. He wanted to add a MBA to his JD. I chose Dr. R.’s partner, Dr M. to deliver this next baby. I liked Dr R. fine, but I preferred younger doctors because they are more up-to-date on the modern way of doing things. (as I ponder this a bit more, I'm not so sure that is a good thing after all...OB of labor and deliverance is decidedly old fashioned, in a very hip way!)
Dr. M. was nice, friendly, but very busy. At 36 weeks he began talking about scheduled inductions. I tried to explain why I did not want one. Namely they hurt more, and I’m on monitors all the time. More monitors means less movement. Less movement means slower progress. Slower progress means more pitocin. Which can lead to fetal distress and C section. I’m sure he’d heard it all before and he was very polite and willing to wait a while.
Six days before my due date, I received a call from the hospital reminding me of my scheduled induction for the next day. That was a little surprising. But really, it was somewhat of a relief. Robert was supposed to start school in a week. I really
needed wanted the baby to
be born by then. So we showed up at the
hospital at the appropriate time. Dr
M. was more than a little surprised.
But he was very gracious and came over and broke my water and started
the pit. This little fella decided to
come very quickly. But not before I got
my epidural. I was afraid of having
another 22 hour labor. Turns out my
fears were totally unfounded. And my
epidural was not totally effective. If
I could do it over again, I would have skipped it. Oh well.
Within four hours I was holding my sweet little Dee. Cy had weighed in at a husky 8lb 5 oz. Dee was a wiry 7lb 14 oz. I was so determined NOT to take three hours
to push that he was born in just one contraction. I broke his collarbone. I still feel bad about that. The anesthesiologist came in an hour later
and asked how far I had dilated. I just
pointed to the bassinet.