Time for another quarterly update!
First things first…I’m not pregnant anymore! I had a baby two months ago which is reason numero uno for my lack of blogging. Here’s the story on our baby girl, our last baby…we’ll call her Baby T.
I started nesting like a freak of nature about two days before Baby T came to be. I decided that I was D-O-N-E with pregnancy and I was going to nest until this little bundle of joy was born. Of course, this nesting did not include anything that would be helpful for my co-workers. I dusted, I vacuumed, I cleaned the ceiling fans which have not really been cleaned since we hung them seven years ago. I swore my house had been attacked by ninja spiders because it seemed that there were suddenly spider webs every where I looked. D took pictures of my giant pregnant self teetering on a wobbly kitchen chair to clean the ceiling fans and texted it to my mom, just to see how fast she would call our house phone to yell at me to “SIT DOWN, ALREADY!!” and yell at D “MAKE HER SIT DOWN, ALREADY!!” We both giggled and she told us we were nuts. All was right with the world.
About the time the kiddos were in bed, the last spider web vanquished and D on his way for some Rooster’s wings (with Donkey Garlic sauce because I was NOT messing around), I sat down, turned on the TV and my water broke. Not a trickle, but a raging river of amniotic fluid. I couldn’t move. The dogs stared at me. I finally managed to waddle/slosh myself to the bathroom. M met me in the bathroom, of course, since he hadn’t yet been tucked in 458 times, questioning my every move. Shouts of “Mommy needs privacy!” were ignored, as always. I called D and he didn’t answer. I called my mom and told her I was apologizing on behalf of her granddaughter because we were on our way to the hospital that night (She had taken a little too much allergy medicine and felt like total crap and had told me the baby couldn’t be born until Tuesday). I called Sister and said please come to my house because mom feels like total crap. She did because she is Sister. And then I got on my work computer because I was about to leave a pile of proverbial crap on many desks Monday morning.
Sister arrived. D came home with wings that I decided not to eat, instead opting for a banana and protein bar. M refused to go back to bed. C was sound asleep at this point. After an hour or so of work, we headed off to the hospital and the contractions started up. At the hospital the idiot nurse questioned me down about my water braking. I asked if she would like to see the cushion to our sofa. Eventually she concurred that yes, we actually had broken water. Then I found out the crap news, Dr. I Hate His Guts was on call that evening. If the baby were to arrive before 8am he would deliver her. I hate this doctor because he is a gigantic a-hole. He’s rude, degrading and makes off-color remarks, and I’ve only had the pleasure of meeting with him ONCE. I did not want that clown ruining my daughter’s birthday, so I asked if I could opt for a midwife or a nurse or if we could just go home and have the baby there. They said I could have a midwife so I took it. I was validated in this decision when every nurse on the Labor and Delivery floor said they would have done the same thing because he’s a good doctor but a major a-hole.
The labor began to pick up. D and I walked the halls. I wanted so bad to make it through the labor without drugs just for the personal accomplishment, but Baby T was positioned funny and I had the world’s worst back labor, so 3 cm in, I got the epidural. I debated getting it that early. I was so scared it would stall labor and I would end up with a c-section, but I was also terrified that if I didn’t, I would be too worn out for the final stages of labor (after all, I had just scrubbed my house from top to bottom). The epidural was sweet relief. I slept for a bit and expected to be ready to push the next time the nurse came in. But I wasn’t. In fact, I hadn’t changed at all. I started to freak out a little thinking I had done it and was on my way to a c-section. Dr. I Hate His Guts was called and said to put me on pitocin at 7am. It was 5am. I had pitocin with C and only remember it as horrible. While I was thankful c-section didn’t come up, pitocin wasn’t my favorite subject either.
As luck would have it, my doctor, Dr. I Love Her To Death, happened to be awake around 5:30am, feeding her own newborn and saw all the notifications that I was hanging out under the care of Dr. I Hate His Guts. She knows I hate his guts, so she called in and told them to start the pitocin right away and that she would be in as soon as possible. With that, they started the pitocin around 6am and by 8:39am our beautiful girl was born in one push! It’s amazing how much easier the labor is with subsequent pregnancies. The pregnancy was extra crappy, but you are rewarded with relatively easy labors.
One of the things I was most excited about for Baby T’s birth was that I would finally be able to donate her cord blood! I had tried to do this with M, but wasn’t able to due to the location of the hospital where we would be delivering. In four years, things had changed for the better and I was able to get a donation kit through a cord blood donation program. They had me fill out an online questionnaire and then followed up with a phone interview before I was eligible for the kit. Once I received the kit, there was an additional questionnaire and I had to ask my doctor to become certified by taking a brief online course. I was so proud that we were able to do this and I’m so frustrated that there isn’t more information about this out there. The blood can be used to treat cancers or for research. If the blood isn’t used or destroyed and our family should need it, we can request it. To me, it’s a win-win for everyone and I hate that not many people are aware of it.
Now, off my soap box and back to Baby T. She was adorable and our tiniest baby at 7 pounds 15 ounces and 20.5 inches long. She had a smidge of brown hair (M said she had “Daddy kind of hair) and blue-gray eyes. This was also the first time I had decided to have the doctor lay the baby directly on me after birth. For many years, I have held the belief that this was the most disgusting thing ever. But after M was born I was changed in my view. He came out and I remember instinctively reaching for him, only to have the nurses take him to clean him as I had asked. It bothered me more than it should have, so with Baby T, I decided to suck it up and hold a grossly fresh newborn baby. I can’t explain it, but I’m so glad I did. She was so calm and precious.
We’re very lucky that she came out so calm and precious because after her birth, chaos erupted in the form of sick kids, obnoxious dogs, two polar vortexes and colic. More on that later.