Friday, June 28, 2013

Magpie is Here!!!!

Actually, the Magpie came 9 days early, and we've been home almost a week already. And for those of you betting people, if you wagered on a girl, you were most certainly correct! Not that I had an inkling one way or another, but since just about everyone thought that Magpie was a boy, we were both shocked that Mags was a girl. Actually, when the J said, "Oh my god, it's a girl!" I replied with "No shit??!!" And she was nowhere near the beast child we thought she was going to be--only 7 lbs. 6 oz. And a little shorter than we all thought, too--19.25 inches.

Of course, nothing went according to plan. I woke up last Thursday morning in labor, but I thought it was gas. Seriously. When the J left for work, I was up and like, "ugh. These are the WORST gas cramps I've ever had!"I got up, had some coffee, put some stuff in the crockpot (a meal that was going to be frozen for later), and then my mom and I went for a walk. We were still planning on getting pedicures--I was nearly insisting during the walk that we'd be able to. By 8:30, my contractions were already 2 minutes apart. My mom said, "uh, that's not gas. You're in labor." Of course, I was like, "oh, well, ok. Just let me eat and shower, and I'm sure I'll be fine. We can still get our toes done; I can drop some paperwork off at school. It's cool." I texted the J to let him know that he might want to try to make it to my doctor's appointment because I was in labor. Actually, my hope had been that I'd go to a doctor's appointment and he'd send me right to the hospital so I wouldn't have to negotiate all that you know in the middle of the night or something. I called the dr.; they told me to come right in. The J met us there, and by 11:00 I was being checked into the hospital, in full on labor, already at about 5 cm. Although I have insisted this entire time that I would NOT have an epidural, I ended up having one. And not for the pain, either. I think I would have been able to handle the pain had it not been for the nausea. That was the one thing I wasn't expecting. I was so so sick. And then I started to get really hot and faint, and I knew I could not go on puking, faint, and feverish. I only barfed once during labor, but I kept asking for the puke bucket. I threw up my entire breakfast right before the epidural.

Since labor was moving so quickly, the doctors and nurses were sure the kid would be out by 3 pm. By 1:00 I was at 7 cm. I stalled a little bit because of the epidural, but by about 3:00 I was at 9cm, and by about 4:00 I was ready to push. And by about 4:30 or so the doc came in, and we started working on getting the Magpie out. And that's when everything sort of went south. I got her all the way down the birth canal and then she got stuck. She was face up. We got her turned halfway, and then her shoulders got stuck, and she would not budge. I could see his face--he knew how much I did not want a c-section--and I could see that he was trying not to look worried or frustrated. The epidural had worn off, and by this time I was sick again, feverish, and feeling faint. He said I could continue pushing, but that we could work on this for two hours, but that it wasn't going to do anything but wear me out. So they prepped the ER, and about 30 minutes later, I was being wheeled off to the c-section.

That did not go as smoothly as it should have either. I learned from one of the nurses later that my delivery had really stressed the doc out. I could hear him on the other side of the curtain sighing in frustration and I could see him shaking his head. I puked again during the surgery. Magpie was wedged in there. I could feel the pressure, and it was a good 10 minutes at least that they worked on her. The J told me later (because I'm only just now able to see the incision) that the doctor was in up to his elbows; they had to lengthen the incision because she was so wedged in. And they had to push her back up the birth canal so they could get her head out. It was actually quite painful. Then the poor girl drew a huge breath as soon as she came out, so she aspirated some blood and they had to run her off to deep suction her lungs--which J did not tell me right away either. Baby girl had this giant bruise on her head from using the vacuum thing to turn her. She had to have blood drawn because her heart rate was elevated during the labor and delivery. She had jaundice so had to be under the UV lamp, which she HATED. And I was in the hospital 4 full days. I checked in at 11:00 or so on Thursday and didn't check out until about 3:00 pm on Sunday. I could have gone home on Saturday, but I opted to stay because of the pain and because I just couldn't even get out of the bed on my own yet. I couldn't even shower without help until Monday.

And then!! Our second night home we had to take the poor girl to the ER because she had an allergic reaction to something and didn't eat for nearly 7 hours and was covered in hives from her neck to her feet! She's fine now. She still has some bumps, but we think it might be either the pain medicine I'm taking, the antibiotics I'm taking, or both. I think I may have an allergy to one or both of them, too, because I have bumps in various places on my body as well. I was on Benadryl in the hospital because of the c-section anesthesia which made my entire body itch, so it very well may be that that masked any sort of reaction. I tried to get the medicine changed, but the doc and I missed each other on the phone, and there's only two to three days left, and I took some Benadryl this morning because I was all itchy and bumpy this morning, so we'll see. Her poor little overloaded system.

However, all of that being said, she is so perfect and beautiful and wonderful. And one of my favorite things about her is how much the J is in love with her. Oh my god. I can't handle it when he looks at her and gets all teary eyed. I can't stand to be in a different room from her. And I can't believe it's already been a week. Regardless of how traumatic everything has been, she is healthy, strong, expressive. She eats like a champ. I LOVE breastfeeding. She has the best little mouth and lips. Her puppy siblings love her and are protective of her. She's just so sweet. And you know, I loved the J with all my heart before this little one came, but like the Grinch, it's grown three sizes bigger since last Thursday. I didn't think I could love him more than I did, but my god. I can't get over either how much more in love with him I am either.

Friday, June 14, 2013

9.5 Months is a long time to be knocked up.

I know I sound like a broken record, but it's been a long, shitty week here. Not only is it hot as fuck (which I usually like the heat--I like to go out an run when it's 100 degrees, so in general, heat is fine), but I've been sick. And on top of being sick, whatever it was that invaded my sinuses and chest cavity and lungs triggered a series of asthma attacks! I've not had an asthma attack in TEN YEARS! TEN YEARS!! The OB had to call in an inhaler for me. My first inhaler in a decade. Wow. On top of that, I still have a cold, so even though the inhaler helped open the airways, the postnasal drip kept tickling my throat every time I laid down to try to sleep last night, which made me cough, which then triggered another asthma attack. Poor J is getting less sleep than I am because of this, and I feel bad that he has to work all day. In general I hate taking medicine as it is, but right now, I'm trying to be really careful about taking medicine, but my well-being is tied to the Magpie's well-being, so it does no one good for me to not sleep, for me to be hacking all night, and for me to have hurt my ribs from the violent coughing! Argh! I am a total hot mess here! I mean my ribs are so freaking sore that they hurt just to be touched. Since I've spent all week in bed, my blood pressure has skyrocketed. Granted, it's what would be "normal" for the average person, but it's really high for me, so since I've got the inhaler and I'm feeling better, and I'm freaking ready for the kid to get here, I will start walking daily. I've accomplished absolutely nothing this week because I've been sick, and I'm sure that's affected my blood pressure as well because I want to get things done, but I'm exhausted and can't breathe.

Seriously, my ribs have never ever hurt like this before. And I had forgotten how much asthma truly truly sucks.

Not that these things are predictable by any stretch of the word, but the doctor indicated yesterday that the possibility of the kid getting here next week is very real. However, if it's not here by my next doctor's appointment and everything looks good, then the doc threw out the possibility of inducing me late next Sunday night and having the kid on Monday the 24th. I did not hesitate with my "YES! Let's do that!" Now, before anyone freaks out about my choosing inducing over spontaneous labor, yes, I know there are lots of reasons not to induce and many many benefits of waiting for spontaneous labor, and I do truly hope that labor happens on its own before the 24th. But my doctor knows my fears, concerns, and anxieties, and while I've had problems with his office and that surly bitch nurse, if he gives the go ahead for it, then I do trust him. Labor doesn't bother me. Pain doesn't bother me. Discomfort, yes, I'll complain about that all day, but pain, I can handle. (and honestly, I know I've been complaining about my ribs, but I feel like anyone else would be sidelined. I mean, I know I've done some damage here). I've done lots of reading and considering, so I am confident that I'm making an informed decision here.

What I like least is uncertainty (says the woman who wouldn't find out the sex of the child). If I know that something will happen in 10 days, then I can plan, prepare, and relax, and that, ultimately is better for me, which I argue is better then for the kid. So, there it is. I feel good about this. Do I hope that this happens spontaneously before the 24th? Yes. But do I take comfort in knowing that something will happen by the 24th? Most certainly. And this is the most relaxed I've felt in 3 weeks.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

The Good, the Bad, and the Very Uncomfortable

I am grumpies. I am large and uncomfortable. I thought I was uncomfortable last week, but I am more uncomfortable this week. I have many of the things that I want to read, but it's uncomfortable to sit and read. I like laying down right now. And I can't read while laying in bed. Last night I just could not get comfortable at all. I'm trying not to focus on my discomfort, but it's hard not to do.

I haven't gone grocery shopping in a long time. So my eating is pathetic right now, which feeds into my discomfort, and maybe the kid is mad at me. Part of the problem is that I'm starving and full all at the same time and nothing, I mean, NOTHING tastes good to me at all. And I still have 24 more days (at least) to go. And the cybercamp is going well, except that it's getting harder and harder to be comfortable sitting for two hours in auditorium chairs.

It's also hot. I like the heat, except I do not right now at all. There are things I want to get done, and while I was optimistic about a week ago regarding my energy levels, this week I am not.

Also, I find that I am becoming misanthropic here lately. If one more person tells me to "just hang in there" I will start hitting people. To put it in perspective, it's akin to telling someone on the job market that "surely something will turn up. just hang in there." No. That's not what I want to hear at this moment and it doesn't help.

And I splurged on a shellac manicure because it's supposed to last for two weeks without chipping, peeling, fading, whatever. That was Friday. By Monday two had chipped. Another chipped last night, and I was able to peel a fourth. It's not even been a week. I'm pissed.

Some Positives to balance out this Negativity:

The thing on the Divine Miss T's neck has gone away. There's like a dime sized little knot there now. Last Wednesday when I got home it was about three inches long and about an inch wide. Yay! I continue to be glad that our "no vet stress unless she's in distress" rule prevailed here and that I didn't totally overreact.

My haircut went well last week. Thankfully.

All baby clothes, bedding, blankets, nursing pads, etc. are washed.

Last night I had a dream that George Takei sent ninjas to my house to destroy to ensure that I went camping with him. It was crazy.

The Red Rocket has been extra cuddly lately because I think he knows he's about to become a middle child and won't be the baby anymore.

Today I will make myself get on the waiting list for daycare, buy the football season tickets (the J and my dad are so wanting season tickets, so I guess we're all going--it'll be fun), go to the grocery, and go through the cookbooks to find good freezable meals so that this weekend I can start stockpiling the freezer like I said I was going to start doing 2 weeks ago. I will do these things.

But first, I will walk the dogs.