Post-partum, part 1 (or, more things they don't tell you)

I have to say the biggest 'shift' after having Emily - aside from the scary yet very 'in your face' realization that hubby and I were now solely responsible for another living soul - was going from 'pregnant lady' to 'nobody'.  It dawned on me that I didn't cry when she was born.  I was in this odd 'shift' in my own body, was concerned about her and if she was okay, and wanted to absorb how sweet and adorable dear husband was being that I sort of left myself out of it.  If that makes any sense (not really, I know).

It was a beehive of activity in and around little room 203 in Summit Hospital in the ensuing hours, but most of it was no longer on or about me.  A few hours ago, it was ALL about me - suddenly, it wasn't.  Sure, I had nurses who were tending to me and they were really great.  My dad and nephew got me a sandwich and soup from Panera, which was much needed.  I probably inhaled it.  I was given instructions as to what drugs I was required to take and what to expect from them and the nursery during my stay. 

Everything else was about Emily, her daddy, and everyone meeting her.  As it should have been.  I was tired, sore and relieved it was all over.  I honestly don't think it had sunk in with me yet that we had a child and her name was Emily.  Wow.  But I was no longer the star of the show - I was the understudy.  Not only that, but I was so hormonal and tired and overwhelmed that I was hardly even emotional about all the wonderful things happening.   Sort of a shame really.  In some ways, I feel like I 'missed' a chunk of all of it just trying to feel like myself again.  It was strangely isolating in a way.  Like I was VERY connected to the goings on with Emily, but at the same time, removed from it all so I could let my body heal and rest.  I'm not sure how else to describe it, but it caught me unaware.

My first answer to the call of nature was an adventure.  It was about 2 hours after I'd given birth, and it took two nurses, a wheelchair, and what strength I could muster.  Let's keep in mind how uneven my epidural had become (thanks to that hot spot).  My left leg was barely tingly while my right leg felt like it weighed 1000 pounds.  Knowing this, I warned the well meaning nurse that she was going to need help.  It wasn't until she had me turned and sitting on the edge of the bed that she realized I was telling the truth.  So in comes the second nurse.  Despite her help, I still had to attempt to put some weight on that leg to get going - but literally, it was like a noodle.  There was nothing I could physically do with it at all.  Being noodle leg reminded me of that episode of Seinfeld - Fusili Jerry.  LOL!!!!

Oh, I was also told that I had MRSA in my nose.  Remember me mentioning that stupid ass nose swab they did when I came back to the hospital after my water had broken?  Yep, that was for that.  And I had the superbug in my nose.  I sure would like to have known when he crawled in there, but at any rate...!  Now I had fun stuff to swab up my nose twice a day for a week, and had to be really careful about blowing/touching my nose and washing my hands before handling Emily.  Other than that, I would have never known I had it.

Finally, around 6 pm or so, the crowd had thinned out and it was just me, Chas and Emily.  That was such a special time.  We were all still getting used to each other.  We were learning how to feed her and burp her, burrito her in a blanket and change her diaper.  We watched a Cubs baseball game on TV with her - one that her uncle Geddy was attending (no surprise that he was there, or that we saw him.  Things in her life work out that way when it comes to her 'uncles').  We heard fireworks faintly outside the window, a preliminary celebration of America's bicentennial.  And - we were learning things from the nurses that were bullshit (make her wait 4 hours between feedings?  I think NOT, girlfriend!!!). 

Chas had decided to stay the night because he thought he would want to go see her in the middle of the night (awww).  I had decided not to be an idiot and have Em in the room with us - we both desperately needed sleep and I wasn't breastfeeding anyway.  When the nurses came in around 10 pm to give me my meds and my Ambien, he had decided to go in and do her last feeding before he came back in for some sleep.  I do not remember him leaving the room or coming back in.  I do not remember anything until it was 7 am and the nurse was back to wake me and give me breakfast.  I literally slept in that same position all night (flat on my back). Chas said he has never heard anyone snore as loudly as I did that night, and I would believe that.  If I were the drug seeking type, I would seek Ambien always and forever.  That stuff is MAGIC.  Get some whenever you are offered any.  Or even if you're not.

Emily's birth story (a cautionary tale) - she's here!

It was at this point that Linda left, so it was just Chas, Debbie and my mom left in the room.  I recall looking at the clock before my first push.  It was 1:10 pm.  I also remember trying to push the way the nurses told me (in your butt, like you're having a BM) and not doing it quite right.  In my defense, this was all new to me aside from the fact that I couldn't really feel those muscles at all.  By the third push, I was apparently doing it right per the affirmations from the nurse.  Thanks to my epidural 'hot spot' - the technical term for the fact that I was feeling all the contractions in my left hip bone - I knew when the contractions were coming before the monitor did, meaning I was already pushing sometimes by the time they were telling me to.

The doctor came in.  Not my dear Dr Halcomb, but the doctor on call, Dr. McCullogh (it was a holiday weekend after all!).  About midway through my pushing, she said 'wow what a head of hair!'  I realized she was touching my baby's head - the head that was only just crowning - and curling its long-ish hair in her fingers.  I also remember the look of utter shock on Chas' face when he saw this.  Thankfully I did not have this view.  It probably would have freaked me out to the point that I would have tried to suck the baby back in.  :D  Chas told me later that seeing the head come out was VERY surreal.  It came out in the shape of a long sausage, and then 'sprung' into actual head shape.  (I do kind of wish I had seen that!!)

Honestly I remember Chas' facial expressions more than just about anything, and while he was holding my hand to comfort me, I remember patting and rubbing his arm to comfort him too (more like try and calm himn a little).  I do recall being told that the shoulders were out - now, one more push and we'll have a baby.  So I did, and we did.  'It's a girl!' Dr. McCullogh said.  (Honestly, I was kind of shocked!  I kind of thought she was a boy during the last month or so.)  I know Chas cried.  I think my mom and sister did.  I actually didn't but was just so glad to have her born - and really, to find out in that moment that I had a daughter.  Not finding out the sex in advance was one of the wisest things we had done!

After daddy cut the cord - which apparently is as tough as nails - they whisked her over to the bassinet to be checked and cleaned.  At the same time, I was being tended to.  Its another one of those things they don't tell you.  The new mother is sort of 'removed' from a lot of the after birth jubilation, as you're being looked after.  I missed when Chas told those in the waiting room it was a girl (apparently his face was priceless), and him calling his mother to give her the news.  I missed seeing her weighed and measured and her first bath.  All the while, I sat in the room being cared for and thinking 'I'm not pregnant anymore!!'  It was also becoming obvious to me just why I had a 'hot spot' with the epidural.  My right leg was SO numb, I was forced to use my arms to move it;  the left leg was only slightly tingly.

But - I will always remember her being brought back in, and the three of us sitting on the bed together, a whole family unit.

Emily's birth story (a cautionary tale), part 3

When we arrived back at Summit, we remembered well that the logical entrance was closed so we flew drove around to the ER.  I sat on a bench in the foyer, waterproof crib sheet under my butt, while Chas parked the car and found me a wheelchair.  He got me into it and we went through the doors -- literally not a soul in sight. Sod this (good use of British vernacular, eh??) - we thought - and Chas wheeled me at high speed across the hospital to the LDR entrance.  Of course their first response was something about coming through the ER again.  Uh we did.  Turns out they were doing construction in the ER so we would have had to gone in a bit further to actually see anyone.  Whatever.

I forgot to mention in part 2 that I had left my bed pillow in room 203 for the 'first admission'.  Chas called once we got home and was told they will store it for me.  Funnily enough, the room hadn't been touched, including my pillow, and I was back in the same place.  As I was contemplating how to get from the wheelchair to the bed w/out soaking their floor, I recall having to have a swab stuck up my nose for some test.  Just what I wanted at the time, but whatever.  I finally make it to the bed where they confirm my water had indeed broken (no shit) and I was about 3 cm dilated - I think.  Seriously this is all kind of hazy to me.  It was about 5:30 a.m. at this point.

Around 7, I was finally asked if I wanted drugs and my answer nearly was 'are you kidding me?  Of COURSE I want drugs!!'  But I think I managed to moan 'yes please.'  In came the nicest man in creation - some dude I started calling Dr Happy, because he made me happy by sticking a needle in my back and making it all go away.  About 30 minutes later, I think I started seeing unicorns and Tinkerbell-like fairies.  This was a MUCH different experience - I could handle this!!!  Oh and I was now 5 cm dilated.  Yee haw!!!

I never slept, but I did manage to kind of rest for the next few hours while I progressed.  I recall it was around this time that the nausea started kicking in, and I hurled a couple times throughout the late morning.  THIS IS WHY you should not eat whilst in labor, people.  I really, REALLY would liked to have been told this because I hate to throw up.  But alas!  The lovely monitor told everyone in the room when I was having contractions which was freaky - but in a good way.  Chas was in the room the whole time, as were my mom, Linda and Debbie.  The rest of the crew (my dad, Kristen and Jennifer) hung out in the lobby.

Around 11:30, I started to feel my contractions again on my left side, just down by my hip bone.  They called Dr Happy back and he dosed me up a little - and all was well.  Until about 12:30 - same thing except more intense.  Dr Happy was called - but Dr Happy did not arrive promptly.  I asked again and was told he was on an emergency call so it may be a while.  I appreciated the fact that I was NOT in an emergent situation, and surely didn't want to be one, but this hurt like buggery.  Every minute - pain like buggery.  It was not fun and I was seriously worn out and in PAIN.  I silently called Dr Happy a major jackhole.   :)

It was around 1 pm when the nurse checked me again, and 'happily' announced I was 10 cm and we could start pushing.  This was when I broke down.  If just the contractions hurt this much, how in the hell was I ever going to push a baby out without passing out from pain?  I mean I boo-hoo'd.  No one knew what to do for me or with me or what to tell me.  There was nothing anyone could tell me.  I just had to deal.  It was in the midst of my breakdown that the nurse came in to check me again.  I VERY happily realized at this point that I didn't feel a darn thing she just did.  The pain was ONLY in that place on my hip.  If I said this was a major relief to me, that would likely be the understatement of the decade.  I was SO so relieved, and now just wanted to focus on pushing the 'right' way and getting this child out.

Emily's birth story (a cautionary tale), part 2

We arrived at Summit around 9 pm.  We knew where the LDR rooms were but we were surprised to find the entrance nearest to them closed.  Luckily a security guard took pity on big ol suffering me and let us in.  When we got to the LDR check in, they told us we should have entered through the ER, but it was fine and we were checked into room 203 anyway.  (I had pre-registered so there wasn't much to do, thankfully.)

The nurse came in and got me in the gown, took my vitals, then checked me.  Not dilated or effaced.  At all.  So, she suggested walking the halls for the next hour or so - then they'd check me again and see where I was at.  I think all the family had arrived by then, so I was able to give everyone a quick hi before hubby and I walked.  Honestly I don't remember all the details - I was in too much freaking pain.  All I remember is walking slow-ish through the center circle of the nurses station and down all the offsetting hallways - into the waiting room a few times to give the family a thrill (HA).  We'd have to stop every 2-3 minutes so I could hang on Chas' neck, "breathe" (note:  this does not help.  It just attempts to make you focus on something else while trying to forget that someone is putting your insides through a wringer.  I call bullshit) and make it through the contraction.  The only other thing I clearly remember from this point in time is telling Chas that I could not understand why women ever actually chose to repeat this process.  Do they not remember the pain or were they in some kind of  bullshit denial pg lady/earth mother haze to try and sucker unsuspecting women (new mothers) to this hell? 

After an hour of this, we roll me back into bed and wait to be checked again by Nurse Ratched and told I was indeed about to have a baby.   Of course, the bitch arrives and tells me not only am I still not dilated at all, there's been really no sign of 'action' at all.  So, she says - 'We're going to send you home'.  Uh - excuse me, but - whuck??!?!?!?  I know I was all out of whack and ready to bust a cap in somebody's ass if they didn't get this baby out of me pronto - but really?  Contractions 3-4 minutes apart and you're sending me home????  Thankfully even my own mother questioned the voracity of this but it was to no avail.  That's why she's Nurse Ratched.  In reality, she was probably a really nice lady, but she was the big ol N.R. to me.

I stupidly agreed to wait around for a 'pain shot' which really equaled 'colossal waste of time', and asked her how in the hell I was supposed to know when to come back.  "When you're screaming the walls down in pain."  Hello, witch, I passed that about 3 hours ago, thanks very much.  I seriously do not remember the drive home.  I sit here and try to recollect it today - it's gone.  I DO remember it was right around 1 am when I climbed on top of the covers of our bed.  Thankfully I was with it enough to realize I probably shouldn't get IN bed.  Darling husband was too wired up to sleep so he sat up doing god knows what.  I just remember the dog laying there with me and me wanting to punch someone hard every 2 minutes or so.  Rest, my ass.

Then, around 4:25 am, the house went quiet as Chas now decided he'd lay on the couch and try to catch a few winks.  Not even 5 minutes later, a contraction started and I recall feeling a 'pop' and then warmth.  I may be a dumb new mother but I knew that meant my water had broken.   So much for sleep, honey.  Now allow me to square up and kick you in the junk so you know how bad I feel.

I will spare you the tale of what the hell do you do when you're excreting vast amounts of fluid while trying to call friends/family at the crack ass of dawn AND watch hubby try and salvage what was left of your once clean bed.  Family was awakened and we were set.  Suffice it to say I was freaked out, and had no idea how I wasn't going to ruin the car seat.  I vaguely recall hubby putting down towels and a waterproof crib sheet on the seat before we rolled out, back towards Summit Hospital.  It was on THIS journey that we traveled at 100 mph.

Emily's birth story (a cautionary tale), part 1

The ladies on my 'baby board' claim that writing all this down is both cathartic and a good 'history' for our children to have one day.  We'll have to see about that.  :)  Plus I figure since her first birthday is coming up (OMG!!!), this is as good of a time as any to share. 

By the by, if you're at all squeamish or it grosses you out to read things about bodily functions, this may not be the blog entry for you - although I'll try to be as un-gross as possible.  Hence this being a cautionary tale.  (That, and I have always wanted to use that subtitle.)

Cue up Friday, July 2nd.  I had been on maternity leave for a week, watching and waiting.  My boss wisely preferred me to do this watching and waiting from home.  :)  Anyway, I woke up around 6 am having what I thought was nature telling me it was time to have a crap.  I should also mention at this point, as normal, hubby was just then going to bed.  After going to the bathroom and finding a little blood, I went into the bedroom and told him 'I think this is it.'  His eyes were as big as saucers.  He got up and started flitting around the house claiming over and over 'I don't know what to do.'  Hey dude, I don't either - but there is nothing to 'do' right now anyway.  Our edict from the doctor was to go to the hospital when the contractions were 5 minutes apart for 2 hours solid.   So, reminding him of this, I somehow managed to calm him down enough to convince him to go to bed.  I figured he'd need as much sleep as he could get in the next 24 hours (Man, I love it when I'm right!!!)  and the contractions at this point were nothing close to regular.

The contractions continued on through the morning, but were not excruciating.  By around noon, though, they were varying anywhere from 5 minutes apart, to 10 or 12 minutes apart.  It was around this time that Chas got out of bed  - bleary eyed (probably from not having slept very well) and still nervous, coupled with a bit of a 'useless' feeling, I think.  I had nothing better to tell him, really, than they were getting a little more regular but not too horribly painful yet.

The irregularity of them continued through the afternoon.  They also started to hurt like buggery a bit more when they did come around.  I tried to 'breathe through them' and all that horseshit.  But there was not much to do but bear it and kiss the ground that the non contraction moments walked on.  I think one of us called our family and friends through all this and warned them.  Honestly I don't remember though.  LOL.

 It's at this time that I would like to flag a moment as 'THINGS NO ONE TOLD ME BUT SHOULD HAVE'.  You'll see several of these throughout the tale - this is the first.  I knew that women in full blown labor at hospitals and shit only ever ate ice chips.  But I wasn't in the hospital and I. was. STARVING.  My dear husband, eager to please his rotund and caterwauling wife, got me food from Captain D's like I asked him to.  I heartily ate it and was glad for it.  (As you are wise to foreshadowing, you'll know beyond the shadow of a doubt that this decision will bite me in the ass later.)

It was around this time that Linda arrived.  I think it was about 6:30.  The contractions were now 5-6 minutes apart with regularity and were of the sort that I could not talk through them with much success, except the stray curse word that undoubtedly came to pass my lips, and we were timing them. But we still had not hit the doctor ordered 'benchmark' (2 hours) - so we waited.

As 8:30 neared, the contractions had FINALLY hit the 'benchmark'.  We called my family and my friend Jennifer  - and we all headed towards Summit Hospital in Hermitage.  I remarkably don't recall Chas driving 100 miles an hour, either.  That would be saved for later.

Why my husband is awesome

I read a blog today that had this list going, and some of it was like a page out of my life.  So I thought I should do the same.  It's a very easy list to come up with.

The Top Reasons Why My Husband is AWESOME (in no particular order)

He is an awesome cook.  This bodes well for us because I am kind of a lazy cook.  Mainly, I just don't give a toss about it by the time I get home from work/gym etc.  I have neither the time or energy to devote to cooking on most days.   So trust me when I say - our family would surely go hungry if it wasn't for him.

He is amazingly patient.  This is a plus when you're dealing with children.  It's a HUGE PLUS when you're dealing with me.

He is the glue that holds us all together.  I am a freaking prize fighting champion worrier.  He takes things as they come.  He runs the errands I ask him to run (and some that I don't), he loves and cares for the tot every day without ever one complaint (though let's be frank, sometimes parenthood could make you want to run from the house screaming your fool head off), tends to the yard, the house, the dog and the cat, my family, our friends, computer customers and me.

He dealt with me when I was pregnant.  This is HUGE, people.  I'm a handful most days.  But hormonal, fat, tired and uncomfortable?  Really, do I have to say anything else??

He is fun (and thus better than me at playtime).  I can be fun, but I have to dig deep for it sometimes.  He just IS fun, and boy does Emily know it.  No wonder she stands at the baby gate and whines when he is in the kitchen cooking.  She wants her fun back, pronto.  

He loves my family and friends like they are his own.  If you're dating (or married to) a guy who doesn't do this, kick them to the curb with due haste.  If you're looking for a mate, this is a quality that should be high on your priority list.  Meanwhile, continue to be jealous about who I am married to.  :)

He's never met a stranger.  This sounds meaningless, but trust me when I say, it is not.  Do you know how great it is for me to introduce him to a wad of new people all the time (people I may have known for my whole freaking life or close to it) and not feel like I have to stand there and 'lead' the conversation?  HUGE deal.  I hope this is a trait my daughter possesses one day.  (When she is old enough to know not to take candy from strangers and shit like that.)

He loves Rush and hockey.  The first one, he came to on his own (thank god, or we never would have met!).  The second one, he blames me for which is fine by me.  What in the hell else would we do from October - June if we didn't have hockey?  LOL.  Point being, I'm glad we'll always have at least two things to do together that we both love.  Well, until Rush stop touring (can't.talk.about.it) or the NHL is defunct. 

and, last but not least...He puts me first.  Even though we have the cutest daughter in all creation, and she means everything to him, he always tells me that I am his first priority.  And not in the 'if momma ain't happy, no one is happy' mentality either.  But because he generally values our relationship above all others.  I hope I do the same in return even half as much as he does.

I could easily do a second edition of this and probably will.  Work actually expects me to work right now so I am forced to stop.  Curses!!!

I heart immigration

It sounds like a cliche.  No actually, some tell me - it sounds kind of sad.  LOL.  But - there's just something about it that makes my heart skip a tiny beat.  I'm a geek, I know - but I don't care.  It's a perfect little microcosm that just sits and waits for you to figure it out.  And just when you think you have - WHAM!  You figure something ELSE out which, in its minutia, changes everything you thought you knew.  It's like a paperwork carnival ride of sorts.

I could hardly contain myself when we went to Memphis for Chas' natz interview.  My only regret was that I couldn't go back to the interview room with him and see all the fabulousness back there.  Even the supposedly benign fingerprint appointment was fodder for fun.

Oh and while I'm thinking about it - one other awesome thing about immigration - the slang terms and acronyms.  Natz.  ROC. ACS.  IJ.  IO.  AOS - which actually could be either Adjustment of Status or Affidavit of Support. :)   Isn't that great???

Now that we're done, I miss it like a long lost friend.  Oh sure, I still participate in my forums and there is some satisfaction found in helping others.  But it isn't the same as being IN the system, watching it march along perfectly, waiting for the next mailing (which brought it's own measure of giddiness).  Of course, it was my awesomeness that made it march along perfectly :) but still - it sat back stoically and let me be awesome.  Hugs.