I love my job!

Yeah . . . . . so this is me being totally professional.

I'm very professional. Shut up.

So, many of you know that I'm an RN, and that I deliver babies. Very fun. I thought I'd share one of the reasons that I love my job.

Yesterday (Thursday), my last delivery of the day was quite exciting. Probably not the type of exciting that most people would, um, enjoy I guess.

Why?

Well, it wasn't the best delivery. Baby had her cord wrapped around her neck very tightly. And while mom was pushing, she abrupted. Meaning her placenta detached before the baby was born. Not a good senario. She came out limp, blue, and not breathing (which, incidently, is my favorite type of delivery).

Luckily, infants are very resiliant critters. I had to breath for her for 2 minutes and continue to give her oxygen for another 10, but after that she perked right up. And is doing great!

I love being able to do that!

. . . . .and I don't think the parents mind either!

Confessions of a Coffee Crazed Nurse

So it's been established that I love my job. And Wednesday I got to do a fabulous delivery. The kind that brings tears to my eyes. A lovely young couple, having their first baby. There's nothing more magical than to see the instant bond between the parents and the infant as he's born. Both mom and dad burst into tears as the head came out and cradled their new infant, never taking their eyes off him. I love those moments.

And here's some pics of my son, shortly after he was born!

In the hospital, after his bath!

Going home! Looks like a pirate . . .

Escaping from his blanket. Hard to think he was ever that small!

Confessions of a Coffee Crazed Nurse

I've had many people comment that I should write a book on my experiences as a nurse. The stories I could tell . . . so I figured, 'why not share some of them here!' On Mondays I'll share a story with you all. Every story I tell will be true, and I'll try to present it in true story-teller fashion. Some will be funny, some heart-warming, and some will make you marvel at how crazy people can be.

A little background on me first: I worked as a medical/surgical nurse for 2 years on a busy medical floor in a local hospital here in Colorado Springs. But now I'm doing what I love. For the past year I've been working in the Birth Center. I work both post-partum (mom/baby) and in the nursery (where I attend deliveries). I love my job.

Now, sit back for the first installment . . .

This story takes place about 6 or 7 months ago, on one of my last days orienting into the nursery. There wasn't much going on in the way of deliveries that day. Two or 3 in labor, and they were taking their time. I happened to look at the Obix screen (computer program that we use to monitor the baby's heart rate and mom's contraction pattern). One gal, who we'll call J, was now at 10cm and pushing (she had gone from 4cm to 10cm in a matter of minutes). I logged onto Obix to check how the baby was handling the labor. What I saw scared me. Baby was not doing well. With each contraction the heart rate would drop dangerously low, taking it's time to come back up. I motioned for LP (the other RN I was with that day) to come and look. We looked at each other with a little sense of dread. A baby having decels (dropped heart rate) isn't a terribly bad thing. Every baby does that at some point. But the degree to which the heart rate drops and the length of time it takes to get back up is what we look at. These decels were bad. Down to the 40's and taking a minute or more to recover.

We get the call to come for the delivery. LP and I head to the labor room, my heart racing and adrenaline pumping. This looks like it could be bad.

In the room we set up the warmer. Hook up the oxygen mask and check the O2 levels. Hook up suction and check the levels of that. The OB is getting worried, coaching J to push, we need this baby out. The tension in the room is palpable. I look at LP, a little nervous, as the head comes out. The umbilical cord is wrapped around the baby's neck twice. And tight (what we call a nuchal cord). The cord is cut, the baby comes out, she's blue, limp and not breathing. I take her immediately to the warmer and LP and I get to work. Drying her with warm blankets is doing nothing. She lays there limp and blue, not so much as a whimper. I grab the umbilical cord to feel her heartrate as LP puts the O2 mask on her. We breathe for her, giving her PPV (positive pressure ventilation), her heart rate is dangerously low, barely palpable and I have to listen as I'm yelling for the L&D nurse to call the neonatal nurse practitioner (NNP). Heart rate is still too low, in the 30's and we need it above 100. LP is still giving PPV and I move into postition to start chest compressions. The baby's grandma is watching us the whole time, J is frantically asking if her baby is okay, why hasn't she cried, why is she blue, the room is chaos but in slow motion. As I start a compression, grandma asks "how much does she weigh?"

I swear you could hear the sound of a needle screeching over a record as LP and I look at grandma dumbfounded. Wait, what? Your granddaughter is limp and blue, we're ressusitating her, breathing for her, calling for the NNP, and you need the weight? Really? Okay. Hang on. Let me go get the scale so we can weigh her. She really doesn't need to breath anyway.

I sound cynical, I know. I have to say though, that question nearly stopped me in my tracks. When a baby is born, the weight seems to be the only thing that people are fixated on. The weight is the important thing, above all else. I mean, we need to send a text out to all of the friends and family with the time, sex, and weight. I think the expectation that everything will go smoothly and be perfect can cloud what's really going on. Thankfully, the baby girl started breathing and crying right as the NNP arrived, and did perfectly fine. The whole fiasco only lasted about 3 minutes, but seemed like an eternity at the time.

And here's my son with a light saber. Why not. :)