Yeah, so I just noticed there was a HUGE gap between the Feb 6th post and April 18th. During which we had a baby. Did I mention this? I think I must’ve forgotten in my newborn fog. (Not forgotten that we had her, just forgot to post about it!)
So just to re-cap…
The night I went into labor, was the evening BEFORE the scheduled cesarean and my hubby had just gotten home from a long day at work. I had been “indecisive” all day long, not knowing if I was in labor, afraid to call the doctor, afraid not to call the doctor. I mean after 3 babies, certainly I should recognize labor right? I con-ed my hubby into getting food for the kids, his mom was coming up to babysit for us while in the hospital and I couldn’t bring myself to cook dinner. I kept feeling the cramp of contractions but wasn’t paying much attention. I thought it was prep, Braxton-Hicks, besides I was going in the next morning, surely I could wait. After dinner and putting the kids down, my husband had just stretched out on the couch to watch TV. I told him he’d better start packing tonight and he seriously looked at me like, do you really have to do this now? Actually, his words were “Can I wait until after this show is over?”
My pregnancy had been smooth sailing. Well, minus the constant puking, and near the end, broken foot, stomach flu for me and the kids, a nasty cold that seemed like it would never leave our home, and the stress of selling, buying and moving to a new house all about month before the baby. WHAT IN THE HECK? Can’t a girl catch a break?? I mean seriously, the thought of going through surgery and carrying a newborn around with a broken foot was, well…a bit daunting. luckily the cast came off a couple weeks before the baby giving me time to get used to walking again, and the flu went away, the house got moved into, and minus a cold given to us by my mother-in-law the day after the baby came, we emerged relatively unscathed.
Anyway, as nervous as I was for another surgery, this is my theory about labor and why gestation is so long: By the ninth (tenth really) month, you are so ready to get that baby out that the gripping fear of labor/surgery you feel around the eighth month melts into a I Will Shove My Hand Up There Myself If She Doesn’t Come Soon feeling. God is brilliant. So, after convincing my husband that he really needed to pack NOW, and watching him run around the house grabbing things as quickly as he could while I sat on the steps shaking and laughing, we headed out. It was 10:00 pm Wednesday the 8th of Feb.
The next couple hours were a dreamy, spiky-pained haze. No drugs for me since I was being prepped for OR. Luckily they had been very busy, but now had a “lull” in births when we walked through the door. My doctor happened to be on call that night so she was already there and ready as well. Went into the OR around midnight and after what I think was the best cesarean I’ve had, out popped a sweet little nameless (will discuss more later) baby. This is when a mother’s heart leaves her body and does an elated, floating lap around the room. My breath sucked so far into my throat it would not release until tears forced it out again. This baby was as close to perfection as I’ve seen. 6lbs, 6oz, 19 inches long, blue eyes (don’t they all have these? Not my babies, they’ve previously come out with super brown eyes from the get-go), a little bit of light hair.
We’d had naming issues since the day we found out she was a girl. Said we would discuss it “later” since we were busy with the house selling deal. But honestly, we couldn’t decide or agree. Don’t tell, but I actually drew names out of a hat the 2nd night with my famly while my husband was at the Supercross. Lexi, Tori, Rachel…Finally after the 3rd day and the discharge nurse telling me “we really need those birth certificate papers before you leave”, about 30 seconds before we walked out of the hospital we named her.
I always wondered if I’d have enough love for another baby, and just in case you’re in the same boat, the answer is a resounding YES! My heart sails no less for her now, almost 3 months later, than it did the day we met. I love you, little baby, so much I can’t really take it.