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.