Tag Archives: Parenthood

Once Upon a Time…….(Continued)

So, where was I? Oh yes…proposing to the anesthesiologist. He laughed at me. The end. I am still engaged to MB. Which I suppose is as it should be…

After the epidural, the pain stopped altogether. I mean, I couldn’t feel anything from the bottom of my ribcage to the tippiest tips of my toes. And it was glorious. After about fifteen minutes, though, machines started beeping and a woman bolted into my room and stood in front of my heart monitor, looking clueless. At first, I thought she might just be lost. Or mildly retarded. But then when my nurse came in looking a little frazzled, I started to get a little concerned. Mind you, this is where things get a little hazy for me. Baby L’s heart rate slowed and my blood pressure plummetted to 70/45 and I felt weak and panicked and completely out of my mind. My nurse assured me that it was nothing to freak out about (SERIOUSLY?!) but I was convincing myself that one of us was not going to make it. And not because I felt like I needed to be all doom and gloom about the birth of my daughter. But because I had never had so much as a tooth pulled up until about two years ago and being in a hospital and hooked up to all these crazy things and all the beeping machines was the most terrifying thing that I could have imagined. After a few minutes of the “everything’s okay” and “these things happen” from the nurses, they dropped a bit of ephedrine into my IV.

Now I want you all to keep score here, okay?

First, they give me pitocin. Which I don’t want in the first place. And which evidently makes me puke.

Then, I get the epidural. Which is amazing because I can’t even feel this “pressure” that I keep hearing so much about, but which also, evidently, wants to kill me.

THEN, they basically dose me with methamphetamine. Which I am pretty sure was the reason that I was suddenly acutely aware of the growth of every, single strand of my hair.

That’s a lot of stuff…But, they aren’t done, internet…Oh no…

After about an hour of monitoring the bejesus out of my pulse, BP and baby L’s heart, and things had started to return to normal (all except for my pulse, which was ridiculously high, but probably because I was on METH), they upped the pitocin. Because, naturally, when someone says they DO NOT want something, the best thing to do is to give them MORE.

And then I puked again. And again. And then again. And every time I threw up, MB called the nurse and told her. And she rushed into the room and handed me a weird, green contraption to vomit into and then she gave me more ice chips. (I never thought I could hate ice as much as I have grown to…)

At this point, I had been in labor for about 12-14 hours. And the contractions were getting stronger. To the point where this “pressure” that I hear so much about, was beginning to become “a thing”.  I was tired. I was cold. I was hungry and vomiting. And now I felt like someone was attempting to push a cantaloupe out of my rectum. Yes. So, they told me I could start pushing. And I thought to myself, “SWEET! This is almost over! Because once you start pushing, the baby comes out. And then they put the baby on your chest and you cry and then you get to go home.” (This is totally inaccurate, as it turns out…) I pushed and I pushed for a couple of hours and I even made some progress. There was mention of some sort of vacuum that the doctor could use to expel the baby, but I wasn’t progressed far enough yet for this to be used and it became evident that Baby L was warm and cozy and completely content to stay inside a little longer. So, the nurse told me to go ahead and rest for an hour or two and that she would be back to resume pushing around 4am.

And then I threw up again. Because who can rest when a cantaloupe is trying to get out of them?

After the last puketasm, the nurse offered to give me some Phenergan. Which, if you are familiar with medications, is an anti-nausea medication which has a tendency to make you VERY, VERY sleepy. This, on top of the meth and everything, made my mind…well? WRONG. Everything was wrong.

The ephedrine was making me feel like a crackhead, the pitocin was forcing the NOTHING out of my stomach, the epidural made me paralyzed completely, and the Phenergan made me so tired that I was actually mumbling incoherently in between the contractions. Which, by this time, were painful again. Not that I really had any idea what was going on or anything.

Then it was time to push. Again. This time, I, being on a host of medications which were very contradictory to each other, I couldn’t even remember HOW to push. Or make sentences. Or stay awake.

(AND…to be continued again…Sorry, ladies and gents, my kid is hungry…again!)

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I Know, I Know

I’ve been a slacktastic blogger. In my defense, however, I’d like to point out that I am not (nor have I ever been) a kid person and now I have one. A really tiny one. Whose sleep schedule is ridiculous. And who may or may not be a vampire. Just sayin’. Anyway, I will, this week, assuming I remember how to turn on my laptop, post the birth story. And possibly some other snippets from my new life as caretaker and mother of a vampire child.

In the meantime, here is a photo taken yesterday during my friend Tara’s photo shoot with vampire Baby L.

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Yes, Another Half-post

We made it home! Finally!

We were discharged from the hospital yesterday morning, having scheduled an appointment for this morning with a pediatrician to re-check Baby L’s bilirubin level. There was concern that she would need to be re-admitted if her numbers didn’t stop climbing after the phototherapy as after many hours of being at home without it. Naturally, I used the time between discharge and our 10:30 appointment this morning to freak out and cry a lot. But we got good news from the doctor and it appears that Baby’s bilirubin is lower than it was at discharge AND there will be no readmission! We still have another re-check on Friday and, though it appears things are looking good, I am still nervous and hoping that everything stays GOOD! (i guess that nercous thing will probably last the next 18 to life, right?) Otherwise, baby girl is in wonderful health! Thanks again for all the comments and support and I will be back to posting soon!!! Xoxo!

Our little nugget on her way home from the hospital!!!

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Just a quickie

No, no, no. Not that kind, y’all, I just had a baby, give me a break!

Baby L and I are still in the hospital. We were supposed to be discharged this morning but her bilirubin levels are slightly higher than they’d like and want to keep her under a phototherapy regiment until it gets down to a level they are comfortable with. So far, there’s nothing to be terribly concerned about, but obviously, MB and I are a wreck. If all goes well today and tonight, we should be discharged tomorrow. The alternative is that she could have to be transferred to another hospital in the area for more treatment but I wouldn’t be admitted. We are really, really, really hopeful this will not be the case (the thought of it makes me want to vomit/cry hysterically) and I ask that you keep us in your thoughts so we can take this little girl home ASAP! Thanks to everyone for the comments and tweets and Bloggie love!!! Hugs!!!

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An Open Letter to My Daughter (Just Minutes Before Her Birth)

Dear Baby L,

I want to start by being honest with you hear and telling you that you will not be born in mere minutes. You are perfectly content to continue to reside in my uterus and according to the doctor that I saw this morning, will remain there for several more days. The title of this post is mainly just to send a signal to the universe (and you, I suppose, letting you know that IT IS TIME, and lets get this show on the ROAD.) But before you do grace us with your presence, I wanted for us to have a little talk, you know, our first mother/daughter.

If you have ever read this blog, then you are well aware that I was not really totally excited about becoming a parent. I didn’t really trust myself to be someone’s mom. And, to be honest, I am still not so sure I know what the hell I am getting myself into. I was pretty open about how crazy and horrible and beautiful making you was and you might be offended about the fact that I sometimes cussed at you here or called you a parasite. But seriously? Let’s face it, girlie, you kind of WERE a parasite. (Just sayin’.) You’ll understand all that when you have kids. But I want you to know, nonetheless, that even though I may not have been ready for all of this crazy that has happened or to become your mom, I am pretty sure I am ready now. And I am going to do the best damn job I can. But if I do happen to put your diaper on backwards or forget to put those weirdo mitten things on your hands and you scratch yourself in the face, it is NOT because I don’t love you. It is because I am a completely incompetent parent and am totally learning. I swear, it will get better. (Until I have to talk to you about boys and/or puberty. Then I just might totally fuck you up. And yes, your mother just said “fuck” because you aren’t born yet and cannot repeat everything I say like a parrot.)

Secondly, we should talk about your father. You may notice that he is a complete softie for you. And you may also have noticed that if you bat your eyelashes enough, you can pretty much attain anything your little heart desires. (This works for me too, by the way, and I rather like it. Don’t screw it up.) You should know that he already loves you more than anything in the entire universe. And your father has the biggest, purest, most amazing heart anyone could possess and you should treat him with respect. Because he is moral and loving and generous and will give of himself in ways that most people cannot. He is a gift to the universe and his kindness is rare. And he helped make you. And I have NO doubt that he will someday embarrass the bejesus out of you, and you will want to run and hide from him, but that’s normal. Just try and remember how special he is and be kind to him (and to others) because if not, you will break his heart.

I would like to explain the rest of the family to you here, but I just don’t have that kind of time. You will encounter some really interesting characters and some of them you will totally adore and some of them will make you want to shove sharp things into your eardrums. And that’s okay. I will warn you about those ones on a private and individual level.

Just know that, in these final days of your hostile takeover of my body gestation, your entire family is looking so forward to meeting you. Your father and I have everything set up for you, including 47 potential places for you to sleep, as we were not sure where you would be most content once removed from my body. We love you infinitely and we will do our best to avoid turning you into a psychopath or a douche canoe.

Love and kisses,

Mom

 

 

I haven’t even HAD my baby girl yet and this already stresses me out!

Forty Ounce's avatarmilk & honey ~ geeks & gangstas

If you haven’t figured it out already, your role as a parent includes keeping your daughter off the pole, which requires setting standards of how she should expect to be treated by others, as well as explaining her anatomy to her.  As much of a free spirit as I am about sexuality and femininity, I found the latter to be one of the more difficult lessons for me to relay to my 4-year-old.  It all started when she was 3, and stopped wearing diapers. I was so proud of myself.  Potty-training– DONE. The next thing I know, we’re watching cartoons and I see her chubby little toddler fingers exploring her nether regions. I mean, you can’t blame her– she’d never had access to that part of her body back in diaper-land.  Undies offer a freedom that I had to teach her to respect.

“What are you doing, pumpkin?” “I’m touching my privacy,” she says matter-of-factly in her…

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Resolutions and Battling Impropriety

Flavor of Love

Flavor of Love (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I don’t usually make New Year’s resolutions because I find that…well…they are a joke. I fool myself into thinking that because the calendar changes, so will I. Well, that’s just unrealistic. But now that I am growing up (at 32) and becoming a mom (pretty reluctantly, at first, I might add), I’ve decided to make up for all those missed resolutions and start changing for the better. Because this time, it isn’t for me, but for my new Baby L.  So, totally worth it.

1. Stop talking like a sailor. I say “fuck” a lot. I have to stop that because I most definitely do NOT want a toddler running around, dropping the “f-bomb” in grocery stores and churches and stuff. I am a civilized person, for fuck’s sake! I should talk like one!

2. Stop referring to my old roommate as “c*ck juggling thunder c*nt” (at least outloud). That is not her name. And even though I rarely speak of her, I have to remember that this phrase is most definitely worse than the f-bomb. Toddlers should not say either of these c-words. Ever. (And really, neither should I…they kind of gross me out, but so does my old roommate.)

3. I will no longer partake in “liquid dinner”. I will have to recognize that moms should eat actually food. Not wine. Wine is not a food and does not constitute as dinner. (Dammit.)

4. I will try and curb my trash TV addiction. This shouldn’t be as hard as one might think. I mean, let’s face it, internet, without “Rock of Love” and “Flavor of Love“, reality TV just isn’t the same anyway…(I miss you Flav and Bret…I do…)

5. I will clean the bathroom more. I hate scrubbing the bathtub. I HATE IT. It hurts my back and makes me cranky. But, because I love my daughter and don’t want her to develop some sort of fungus, I will do it. Weekly, even. (The things we do for love…)

There are a few more things that I need to work on, like continuing to be a non-smoker and shielding my kid from people who will make up stupid nicknames for her or teach her phrases like, “Talk to the hand…” (I swear to JEEBUS, that was never funny, not even when little kids did it! And it was like 20 years ago, people! Just let it GO…) But I think these listed were the big ones for the time being. And it is good to start small, I think. Right?

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