The Emergence of the Wee Dragon

Not only do I have a baby, but wonder of wonders, I actually like him. I was so afraid that I'd just look at him and think, "What am I supposed to do with THAT?" Luckily that didn't happen. I am so glad.

Anyway. On to the gory details...

I went into the hospital Friday the 7th at 5:45am. I woke up that morning feeling very serene. I was completely unafraid. The fact that I knew I was having a c-section and I knew what to expect made it all seem completely bearable. As long as I feel I have control over a situation, I can take pretty much anything.

Sara was waiting for us when Erik and I got there. We went to the Maternity department and checked in, and they weighed me and checked my blood pressure and all the usual procedures to ensure that I was in fact alive and not in any eminent danger. They made me put on one of those horrendous hospital gowns and put in an IV. Unfortunately I do not have very sticky-outy veins (that's the technical term for it, of course) and they couldn't seem to find one on my right arm (I'm left handed) so they had to put it on my left arm. Still, it wasn't too bad.

Then we ended up waiting around for about an hour and a half because the doctor was performing another c-section. I think I had to get up to pee about 8 times. It was terribly irritating. Just before it was time to go into surgery, the anesthesiologist, Dr. Anand came in and introduced himself and let me know what he was going to be doing. Then the nurse came in and took me to the surgery room.

We went in and the first thing they had to do was the spinal block. This was probably the most awful experience I've ever had. They couldn't find a space to get it in and it hurt like hell. Dr. Anand eventually had to call in another anesthesiologist to help. In all they had to try 4 or 5 times. I had to hold completely still and arch my back into a weird position while leaning against the nurse, Kirsten (she was fantastic. She was also the checkout nurse and was absolutely the most awesome person ever. Also, she looked a lot like Jennifer Love Hewitt.) By the last time I was trying incredibly hard not to cry because I knew it would make me shake. I kept thinking that if it didn't work then I'd have to go through labor-- without any anesthesia. This was the first time that I really got scared. Just as I thought they were going to give up, they got it in. Suddenly I felt all tingly and heavy. It was the strangest thing in the world.

They got me up on the table and started to get everything ready. At this point they brought Sara in (I didn't want Erik in the room because I was afraid that he would freak out or faint, and I felt the role of the support person was to actually give support)However, I was pretty much out of it so I barely noticed. The spinal went too high because they put it higher than usual since they couldn't find a space. My arms started tingling and I asked if it was supposed to do that. It wasn't, but the doctors assured me that everything was ok as long as I could still move my arms. They kept asking me to squeeze their hands. I felt like I was having trouble breathing and I had to consciously make an effort to breathe. They kept giving me oxygen and I could barely talk because when I did I felt like I had to choose between talking and breathing. Obviously, I chose breathing. I felt like I just wanted to go to sleep, but a little voice in my head kept telling me that if I fell asleep I would stop breathing. At one point the tingling crept into the back of my skull and I got really scared. From the sound of his voice, Dr. Anand got a little worried, too.

While this was going on, Dr. Mazon was busy doing the surgery. They had warned me that while I wouldn't feel any pain, I likely would feel some tugging and pushing, and that when they actually pulled the baby out I would feel like I couldn't breathe because they would be pushing down hard on my stomach to help get him out. The one good thing about my spinal was that it was so strong I didn't feel anything at all. I didn't even realize they had started the surgery until I heard Chase cry. I asked if that was the baby, knowing that it was but it seemed so far away that I wasn't sure if it was real. I remember distinctly thinking that it was weird that he was actually saying "wah wah."

They handed him to Sara after they cleaned him up and made sure everything was fine. She brought him over to see me but I didn't even have the energy to turn my head and look, so I could only see him out of the corner of my eye. Shortly after that they took him out to the recovery room to be with Erik and wait for for me to be stitched up. When they finished they lifted me on to a gurney to take me to the recovery room, and as soon as my head was elevated I could instantly breathe better. I was so relieved, because they had told me the spinal would take a few hours to completely wear off, and I was afraid that I would spend the entire time just trying to breathe.

I didn't hold Chase for the first three hours because I was shaking so bad I was afraid that I would drop him, and I didn't want them to put him on my chest for fear that it would put pressure on my lungs and I wouldn't be able to breathe. As you can see, I really enjoy breathing :). They brought me ice chips because I was so thirsty and I thought that they were better than ice cream. It was funny because I was still shaking and so I was dropping ice chips all over the place.

Finally they decided things were well enough for me to go to the mother-baby room. Once we got there I was able to hold him. I love the way new babies move. I remember when I was with a friend when her baby was born how adorable it was to hold her and feel her little arms and legs moving under the blanket. I felt the same way about Chase. I was afraid that since I hadn't held him for the first three hours of his life that it would cause some kind of permanent damage. There is all this mostly pro-breastfeeding propaganda that makes you feel like if you don't have skin to skin contact with your baby right away, then your baby will be scarred for life and you will never have a healthy bond with them. Although he's only a week old, I'm pretty sure there is no permanent damage. And if there is, it's not likely caused by that.

The first pain medication they had me on was morphine. It made me feel pretty good, but it also made my face rather itchy and had the rather unpleasant effect of causing me to have to throw up randomly and without any notice. They were kind enough to put me on tylenol with codeine and ibuprofen pretty quickly, and after that everything was fantastic.

For the rest of my stay, everything was wonderful. All of the nurses and the rest of the staff were incredibly nice and treated me like a queen. Apparently they took up a poll and all the nurses agreed that Chase was the cutest baby on the ward :). Erik was great and I was completely amazed at him for not protesting or complaining when it came to changing diapers or anything else. (Once we left the hospital it was a completely different story, but I'll explain that later) We only had to call a nurse to help with Chase once. The food was surprisingly good, and even the bathrooms were really nice. All the doctors and nurses were completely shocked at how well I did. I was doing so well that they even let me go home a day early.

Everyone who came to visit was absolutely in love with Chase. Erik's family was so excited. It was cute watching them vie for the chance to hold him first, or feed him, or even change his diaper. My brother's birthday was the 9th, and when I asked him what he wanted for his birthday he said he wanted to come to the hospital and see the baby. How sweet is that?

The day I left I was actually able to go to Walmart. My mom said she was trying to keep up with me, instead of the other way around. I was able to walk up the stairs to my apartment with no problem, which surprised me because everyone said it would be the hardest thing I'd have to do for a while. When I got home the house was beautiful. My mom had spent the whole weekend cleaning it from top to bottom and making everything look wonderful.

At my appointment the following day to have the staples from my incision removed, Dr. Mazon told me not to even bother making a two week follow up appointment, which they usually have c-section patients do, because he felt that it would be pointless as I was doing so well. And today, I was feeling so well that Erik and I took Chase to Open Mic to show him off, and I didn't even have to take any pain medication at all the entire day.

Overall, I think that everything was fantastic. The only bad part was the spinal block, and that part lasted a little over an hour. Would I do it again? Absolutely not, but only because I truly do not plan on having any more kids. If for some crazy reason I did, however, I would definitely want to do a c-section, even if I knew the spinal would go the same way. I feel as if I am doing better than some women who had regular deliveries. I am so glad that (almost) everything went the way I wanted. People talk about having a "positive birth experience" and I feel as if I had the best one possible.

So that's what happened. Now I can stop feeling guilty for not writing it down and actually get to posting random mumblings again.

--Dragon






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Superior Leak Protection, My Ass

Dear Pampers Swaddlers:

You suck. You so totally suck. I'm not even going to finish off the two bags of you sitting on the shelf. You're so bad that I am going to forego my normal suck-it-up and use it until it's gone mentality. That's right. You just suck that much. I don't care if the 8-14lb diapers go halfway up Chase's back, because at least they don't leak all over every single item of clothing he owns. So goodbye, you shoddily manufactured, overpriced asscovers. You're supposed to hold pieces of crap, not be them.

--dragon

Yes I know this is a total copout of a post, but it's hard to type with only one hand. Read more!

Houston, We Have a Buffin

I'm home! (a whole day early. Yay!)There's a lot to write, but I want to wait a bit to do it. In the meantime, statistics!

Chase Jonathan Christopher L.
Born 9.7.07 at 10:14am
8 lbs. 4 oz., 21.5 in.

The first though that I had when I heard him crying: "he's saying 'wah'... I never thought babies really said 'wah'..."

Yeah... too much medication will do that to you :)

--Dragon
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Zero Hour

So this is it. The zero hour. I have to be there tomorrow at 5:45am... in other words, too frickin' early. I'll be in the hospital for 4 days. After tomorrow I'll no longer be just me. I'll suddenly be me + 1... what a strange thought. How do people deal with the sudden transition between only having themselves to take care of, themselves to think of, to having a whole other person who depends entirely on you for everything? I wonder what the person I will become would have to say to the person I am now. I hope that I like the new me.

--Dragon Read more!

If It's Not One Thing...

Let me first say that I feel so much better. Thank you so much to everyone who commented regarding my fear of labor. Of the few people I've told so far about it, some have been very supportive while others have made it seem as if I was being selfish and unreasonable, and I was just very afraid that more people would feel that way. I have a tendency to be a shameless people pleaser, sometimes to the extreme. You have helped me see that it's ok, whether they think so or not, because what matters is what I am comfortable with. Again, thank you. :)

That said, right now Erik is driving me nuts. Remember how about 3 months ago, in June, I kicked him out mainly because he refused to step up to the plate and get a decent job? Well guess what: still no good job.

I have done everything in my power to help him find a job. I have done far more than I should have to, more than anyone else in their right mind would do, I'm sure. I created a resume', found ads for jobs that sounded suitable, I signed him up for a class to learn how to write his own resume' and another class to help him work on his interview skills. I even told him what to wear to an interview. It turns out I'm not the only one-- his aunt and sister bought him a bunch of new clothes that were more professional than his old clothes, everyone in his family, even his sister's boyfriend keep an eye out for jobs he might like and let him know about them.

Regardless of all the help he's getting, he still won't do anything. I've told him in every way I know of that he needs to get a new job, that not only are his expenses going to go up once the baby is born, but he can't even keep up with his current bills. He goes from agreeing with me to giving me all kinds of rediculous reasons as to why he can't search for jobs now. For example, his band is playing in an upcoming festival about 2 weeks from now. Now, I'm pretty good at getting a job easily, but even for me 2 weeks is pretty fast. Not to mention if you let them know that you have prior engagements, most employers understand.

I'm not the only one who is getting fed up with him. Everyone in his family has been after him and feel as if he should be taking responsibility. We are all so frustrated with him. Babies cost money. Now, I have plenty of help if I need it. I have my mom, Sara, my dad, everyone in Erik's family including his mom and stepdad, both his aunts, his uncle, his grandma, and his sister and her boyfriend. So if I ever really need something, there is no shortage of people who will gladly help me out. However, it's still Erik's responsibility.

I'm hoping that he will surprise us all when faced with reality in all its screaming, pooping, chubby-cheeked glory, and do his share. But to be quite honest, I really don't believe he will. And it frustrates and angers me to no end. I don't want to be a bitch. I don't want to have to tell him that either he gets a job and starts helping out financially or I'll have to go to Child Support Services and let them go after him. Because they will attach his wages and he'll have no choice but to get a better job, as he'll have barely anything left. They don't care whether he can pay his bills or not. I'm not that cruel. But if he doesn't hurry up and be a man, then I'll have no choice.

I'm so sick of being put in positions like this. I'd much, much rather be nice. If people would only listen to me, everything would work out so much better. It's not like I say these things because I like the sound of my own voice (and really, I don't. It's too high pitched.). I just don't feel like I have any other choice.

--Dragon Read more!

Roses

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Weak and Powerless

I haven't written much lately because I've been afraid to write about the one thing predominantly on my mind.

I am a control freak. I admit this. Perhaps because there has been so much in my life outside of my realm of control, I have become someone who craves order and organization. I need things to be logical and timely. I need to be able plan and anticipate. I hate surprises (except complete surprises, those are nice. But when I know it's coming, it drives me nuts) and I loathe being caught off guard. Because of this, I'm terrified of labor. I can't think of an adjective that seems to really convey just how scared I am.

There is very little I can plan or even really expect regarding labor. No two people experience the same thing. I could be in labor for 6 hours. I could be there for 36. And there's no way to tell. I could tear or have an episiotomy. Then again, I might not. There is so many variables, and no real way to predict them. This frightens me to death.



Throughout my pregnancy, my midwives and anyone else I talked to about it kept assuring me that I would be ready for it when the time came, that I was not physically ready for it, and so I wasn't emotionally or mentally ready for it. I wanted to believe them. I tried to ignore the fear for a while, to no avail. Then I thought perhaps if I knew more about it, I would feel more prepared. Not so-- it only made it worse, because everything I read made it more and more clear that there was no way for me to know what would happen.

As such, I have not been a nice person lately. I've been anxious and stressed out and worried beyond belief. This has led me to be a total bitch to pretty much everyone around me. I was so afraid that I couldn't seem to think of anything else, and the fact that everyone seemed oblivious to the kind of torment I was feeling. I kept fighting with my brother (but really, he is a great big effing asshole anyway), fighting with Erik, even fighting with my mom. My mom got so angry at me that she said some incredibly horrible things that she had no right to say, but it convinced me to stop dwelling on it and do something about it.

So finally I discussed it with one of the midwives. I made a list of everything I was afraid of, and believe me, it was not a short list. But the main thing came down to the fact that I feared the loss of control. We talked about the kind of options I had, and I told her I wanted a c-section.

I told her that I had been researching it for weeks, and I felt confident that I understood the risks. I also know what to expect. I know what happens when, I know about how long it will last, and I know what to expect while recovering. I understand that it will take longer to recover from, but in the long run I feel like it is worth it.

I was afraid she would tell me that I couldn't do it, that since there was no medical reason for it. She talked to me about the risks and the fact that she wasn't even sure if one of the OB/GYN's they work under would even consider it, but she said she would talk to the doctor and see if he would even consider it. We talked to the doctor and he agreed to do it.

I was so incredibly relieved. I know it's major abdominal surgery, and considering that I have never been in the hospital and the only surgery I've ever had was to remove my wisdom teeth, it's a rather scary thought. But I am so much less worried and afraid about it than I was about the thought of going through labor. Now, the only thing I have to worry about is not going into labor before I'm scheduled for the c-section on the 7th. That likely won't happen, but it's still a possibility.

I know some people may think that I am being selfish for wanting to do this, and that i just need to suck it up and deal with it, but it's my choice. I don't care if you think I'm a terrible person because I feel the need to control everything and the desire to avoid injury to my private parts. It's my decision and I have to live with it. If I'm comfortable with it, then that's all that matters.

--Dragon Read more!