The title I hold most dear

I've been thinking about writing about this topic for awhile, but then the busy-ness of life as an intern has caught up with me. Especially since I'm averaging 45-70 hours a week. Let me start off by saying that I don't regret it, becoming a doctor. I love being able to help out others, whether it's in the clinic, up on labor and delivery, or working weird hours at the hospital. I like knowing that I'm able to ease their suffering, for at least a period of time. However, there is something that I love even more.

Being a Mom. Yup, I would gladly stay awake a few extra minutes if that means I get to spend some time with my son. It's been very hard recently, since I've been on nights. I only get to see Preston, maybe an hour or two a day, and that's if he's not sleeping when I get up midday to get ready for work. I miss my little guy. I am so proud of everything he does, from his bashful goofy grin, to the way he tries to take in everything around him, to how he can't do anything quiet, period. He's my little man. I love the way his eyes light up at me whenever he sees my face, whether it's in person, or over the computer when I try to steal a few precious minutes with him while I'm at work. I never thought I could love a human being as much as I love my son.

I am so thankful to God that He has blessed Tim and I with our very sweet, very annoying and opinionated at times, son. I know that this is such a special gift, and I pray that God will continue to lead and guide Tim and I as we do our very best to raise him.

If you ever see me leave work quickly, it's because I'm going home to spend time with my loved ones, especially my son.

(And just to clear the air, Tim is the most amazing husband ever, and I could not do this whole parenting thing without him. Especially with me working crazy hours. Tim puts up with a lot home alone with Preston, and he makes me proud.)

Birth of Preston Reed Harbison

On Tuesday, April 19th, 2016, I woke up and felt like I was leaking some water. I was 37 weeks pregnant that day. It didn't feel like urine, so I checked myself and the consistency looked a lot different than anything I've noticed before. I decided to call the OBGYN to see what they thought. An hour later, they called me back and told me to go to the hospital to see if the water actually broke. Around noon they did the amnisure test, and it came back positive. I called Tim and let him know that my water broke. I was 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced. He decided to head out, grab our bags, and come to the hospital. I then called my dad, and he was so surprised that my water had broke.

The midwife started me on cytotec, to help ripen my cervix. I wasn't having any consistent contractions, so I was fairly comfortable. Tim arrived around 3pm, and my parents arrived later around 10pm. Since I wasn't progressing super quickly that evening, the midwife decided to let me rest overnight, and then to increase me to pitocin the next day to get my contractions going. Tim spent the night in a rolling chair and I attempted to stay comfortable.

On Wednesday morning, they started me on pitocin and my contractions slowly started. By midday they decided to break the little bag of water that was cushioning Preston's head, and checked me. I was about 5cm dilated and 90% effaced. The next few hours they kept my pitocin consistent, and I got an epidural placed. I was quite nervous about that, so I had Tim give me a blessing and my Dad prayed over me. The epidural went better than I had anticipated it would, and my Mom comforted me during the placement. Soon, I was feeling a lot of discomfort, that I can best describe as needing to have a bowel movement, but not being able to. I had the midwife check me, and I was 10cm dilated, 100% effaced, but Preston was only at 0 station. (That meant that he was still in my pelvic rim). They wanted his head farther down before I started pushing. They then gave me the goal to hold off pushing for an hour to see if he could descend farther. I made it 45 minutes before I was too uncomfortable. That was 5:45pm. I then paged the midwife, and the team came in to help me push. I pushed in the normal position, on my left side, on my right side, and in the fetal position. He was still at 0 station and not making any progress. While I was in the fetal position, I was so uncomfortable that I was almost crying.

Then, Rachel, the midwife, got the idea to try a "tug-of-war" position. At that point I had been pushing over 2 hours and were worried that I would tire out before getting him out. To put me in the "tug-of-war" position, I got in the normal position, put my legs on two people, the midwife got in front of me with a sheet, and I grabbed the midsection of it on the count of three and pulled against her, pushed with my legs, and pushed with my lower region. It got me so entertained and laughing, especially since I was proving to be stronger than the midwife and the ER resident. It was so much fun. Then, the on call OBGYN, Dr. Alam, was around and they had her check me. Happily, Preston had descended a bit. They returned me to the normal position and did very targeted pushing for another 20 or so minutes. Finally, Preston was born at 8:45pm.

After he was born, they started to sew me back together. I had a third degree vaginal tear and a second degree periurethral tear that took over an hour to fix. I kept on watching Preston, who I couldn't really hold during that time, since they were fixing me up. Preston was 8lbs 5.3 ounces, 20.25". He had dark blue/gray eyes and blonde hair. Tim did a great job comforting the big guy. I was so glad that he was born 3 weeks early, otherwise, I probably would have had to deliver him via a c-section.

I was so glad that my parents were with me, to help support and comfort me. The entire medical and nursing team were excellent with their care, and Tim was my guardian angel. I could not have done it without him.

I love my little guy, and I know that God was guiding me and him the entire time.

I love my Preston Reed Harbison.

I'm so glad to be your mom.

Following the Lord's Lead

I've been considering writing this post for awhile. It's been quite an interesting few weeks, and my life has changed in many ways.

Prior to the start of match week for residency, I was under the impression that I would become an OB/GYN. I had fallen in love with the specialty during my third year, love everything about pregnancy, and have a special bond with women in general. However, come Monday afternoon I found out that not only did I not match into OB/GYN, but now I needed to scramble and find a residency program that would teach me. Because it's one thing to not end up in the specialty that you hoped to enter; it's another thing entirely to end up in no specialty at all. And that couldn't be an option for me.

Tim and I worked tirelessly together to come up with a list of 45 different hospitals that I could apply to, for OB/GYN, pediatrics, and family medicine. Out of those, I was really hopeful for at least one of the OB/GYN places to pan out. That evening, I got a phone call from Guthrie/Robert Packer Hospital, to discuss the possibility of me joining their family medicine program. I remembered working with them during my third year, really likely the attendings, and especially how the residents were treated and interacted with one another. I thought that this could be a doable fit, especially with the amount of electives that would allow me to tailor my training to be more OB/GYN and pediatrics based, as well as family medicine. I got a bunch more phone calls on Tuesday, which really made me feel good about myself for once. I'm the type of person who doesn't truly believe in herself, that my best isn't good enough. I'm the person who had to take the MCAT 3x, took a year off before medical school, and then really struggled and studied my butt off for just above passing scores on both of my boards. This has not been an easy process for me, but this is something that I truly love learning about and want to help others through this profession. The many phone calls and interviews helped boost my self-esteem and begin to realize that I am worth it.

Wednesday rolled around and my first offer for a job was through Guthrie/Robert Packer Hospital. I quickly took the job. I know that I will fit in well with the rest of the team. 

I recently received my paperwork to fill out for employment, and seeing my name written as Dr. Harbison, really made me smile and feel happy. I can do this!

Another interesting turn of events happened this past week, the week after the match. I officially hit 33 weeks this past Tuesday, Tim decided when he would stop working and start being a full-time Dad for a year, and we had a good headway on the nursery for our little Preston. I was at the hospital, going around with the pediatrics team in the ER checking on a couple of sick kids. I remember feeling a bit of pain in my lower abdomen, like really intense menstrual cramps. I had pain there, and in my lower back as well. I sat down, and started working on concentrating on my breathing, figuring that the pain would subside on its own. Soon, the pediatrician came by to check on me and convinced me to be checked out by labor and delivery. I got checked in and hooked up to the fetal heart monitor and the contraction monitor. Sure enough, I was having contractions, about 10-15 minutes apart.

A midwife came in and examined my cervix. She had a hard time getting to it, because it was so far back (good for me and baby) and it was closed and not effaced (thinned) at all. She also did a test called the Fetal Fibronectin test (FFN) to check to see if I started preterm labor. It came back as negative. She also took a urine sample to check if I had a UTI. While she was gone, the pain of the contractions continued, and I started to get very uncomfortable in bed. I finally rang the call bell (something I hate to do, because I hate bothering people) and asked for an update and told her about my pain. She noticed that the pain was not going away, and consulted with an OB/GYN. They decided to give me a liter of IV normal saline fluid, give me a shot of terbutaline to stop the contractions, gave me Tylenol 3 with codeine for pain, and ordered an ultrasound to check on Preston and to check out my cervix. At this point, I decided that I didn't want to be alone anymore, and told Tim to come to the hospital to join me. (I had been giving him updates on the phone).

The shot hurt like none other, made me feel very dizzy, and drove Preston crazy. I've never felt so much moving/thrashing inside my belly before. The fluids made me pee like crazy, and I don't think the Tylenol 3 did anything at all. Tim arrived after I was hooked up to the IV. We both got to see Preston during the ultrasound. We found out that he's measuring 35 weeks (2 weeks larger than dates) and is about 5lbs. The measurement on my cervix was 2.4 cm. Apparently, a good cervix that won't go into labor is 2.5 cm or larger. Due to the closeness of my length to being worrisome, I had a follow-up ultrasound scheduled for the next day.

On Wednesday, my ultrasound showed that my cervix was measuring 2.9 cm. However, the discrepancy of measurements could be due to having two different ultrasound machines and two different users. I spoke with the OB/GYN for a lengthy period of time. He said that he's still concerned about my cervical length. He wants to get another ultrasound of it next Tuesday. Plus, there is already some fluid and mucus pooling into my cervix, suggesting that Preston is starting to push a bit more downward, suggesting that my water could break a bit earlier. However, he doesn't think that I need to be put on bed-rest or to abstain from any of my remaining rotations. I could go into pre-term labor, or I could go to term. If my cervical length is still questionable on next Tuesday, he wants to give me a shot of steroids to help speed up Preston's lung development just in case I go into labor early. From my discussion with the OB/GYN, I believe that I have a slightly higher than normal chance of pre-term labor at this point.

If Preston does go to term, the OB/GYN suggested that I get an ultrasound around 39 weeks to check his size, because Preston is measuring so big, and I may not be able to push him out on my own. If that is the case, I will easily accept the option for a C-section. I don't want to risk any unnecessary trauma to my little guy in the birthing process.

All of this has been a bit nerve-wracking. Going from a decently normal pregnancy, to now one that has become a bit more interesting. To say that I'm totally nonchalant about the whole thing would be a lie. I am a bit concerned. I really don't want to give birth early, and then have to have Preston in the NICU at the hospital where I currently rotate, and not being able to be with him while I'm on rotations. That would tear me apart. However, it has been helpful to talk to my Mom, Dad, Tim, and some close friends about the subject. I've also been trying to rely on God more throughout this process. I know that God has a plan for me, Tim, and little Preston. I know that God is leading and directing everything. I don't always understand His ways, like ending up at Guthrie instead of an OB/GYN program, but I know that it's for the best. I know that God especially watches over his little children, and that He holds them close to His heart. The only thing I can do is pray, wait, watch, and learn. I'll hold fast to the promises that God has made to me and my family in the Scriptures. I'll hold fast to the covenants that I've entered into with God. And I'll do my best not to worry.

Trials of pregnancy and sources of hope

My second trimester hasn't been the easiest so far. I had about a week where I could barely sleep, and then almost 2 weeks where I could barely walk or move at all without being in a lot of pain. I had received a prenatal massage, and the masseur overworked my sacroiliac joint, causing all my adductors to flare, contract, and refuse to move. Or, in non-medical terms, she drove her elbow squarely into my butt muscles, screwed up the joint, and made it so all my inner groin muscles on my right side were upset. 

It got to the point where I wasn't sure what to do. I was resting from the gym, taking it easy on rotations, and Tim had caused me to be on "couch rest" to let my body heal. I was getting very frustrated. This prompted me to get a blessing of healing from my husband with another priesthood holder present. In the blessing, I remember hearing words to seek after God, to look to Tim for help, and that this burden I may have to bear for awhile longer. Also, that I was doing a very good job as a wife and as a future mother to my little one. This gave me some assurances that I was doing the right thing, but that I also needed to lean on God and Tim more. 

With those thoughts in mind, I started seeking help from a friend who was a chiropractor. She did help me start to feel better, but my joint would still flare and I could barely move in bed without crying. Tim then decided to check out my leg and muscles to see where exactly the problem was. We learned that when he moved my leg without me helping at all, that nothing hurt. As soon as I tried to move it, the pain flared. That suggested more of a muscular problem instead of a skeletal one. That prompted me to seek out a physical therapist. I was able to see the PT and show him exactly where the issues were. He figured it out, told me it wasn't just "round ligament pain" acting up, but my tight adductors, as I mentioned earlier. After he treated me, a few days later, I was able to walk comfortably. I have seen him only twice, but I can move so much better now. I can walk comfortably, move around without much pain, and go back to the gym. All of this happened because I sought God's guidance in the form of a blessing.

Blessings are a wonderful thing that worthy priesthood members can bestow on any person who asks for one. There are two types of blessings: blessings of healing and blessings of comfort. Blessings of comfort are helpful whenever there is something heavy weighing on a person's mind, a decision to make, or a tough crisis that the person is going through. Blessings of healing are for anyone who is sick or otherwise afflicted. Since I began investigating the LDS church, I have asked for blessings whenever I realized that I needed some more direct inspiration from God. It is wonderful to hear the words of God being spoken through chosen vessels, like missionaries, home teachers, or my husband. And I know that these men are not simply saying words that they are thinking of, but what God wants me to hear at that moment in time. I am so thankful for this church, and that we can still receive blessings. Even non-members can receive blessings from men of my church. All anyone needs to do is hope. There was never a time that I received a blessing that I later on regretted.

Remember always, to turn to God in the face of all things.