Today Little Man is two years old. I can't really believe it was two years ago that he was born. Sometimes it seems longer and sometimes it seems like just yesterday he was born.
I will recap his birth story for you, you probably won't enjoy it quite as much as I will writing it but humor me anyway.
It was a pretty normal day actually. Leo let me sleep in since I didn't really sleep good during the night so I took advantage of it. We were planning to take Sweet Girl to the fireworks that evening so when I got ready I actually dried my hair and ran the flat iron on it so I would look halfway decent and not just air dried hair in a pony tail. We headed off for lunch and to go to Target to get Sweet Girl a new baby so she could have her own. We ate lunch at Ruby Tuesday's in Brentwood. I had the Ruby mini's and fries that had WAY too much seasoning. It was a yummy meal. We headed off to Target next. We found Sweet Girl a cute baby in it's own little carrier. It was really cute, so that is what we got. Then Sweet Girl and Leo went one way and I headed over to the sippy cup aisle because Sweet Girl needed some more cups. It was at this moment that I realized that I didn't feel quite right. I felt a little squirmy, in pain and I wanted to cry. I thought this was abnormal for me so I headed off to find Leo and inform him that I think we needed to call my parents and head to the hospital. I found him quickly due to hearing Sweet Girl screaming and running around. I inform him of this and to this he asks me:
"Well how far apart are your contractions?"
Me: "I don't know, I feel weird and I think it's time to call my parents."
Leo: "Well I don't want to call them and make them drive up here if we're not sure"
Me: "I'll start timing" and thinking I want to run you over with this fucking cart.
Me: "first one is 4 mins. I really want to cry"
We check out and go to the car where I am all squirmy and timing them at STILL four minutes apart.
Me: "Ok will please call them NOW and tell them to come up?"
Leo: "Ok"
He calls and they are on their way. I am doing my best to not really pay attention to how uncomfortable I am. We get home and I am reading to Sweet Girl as a means to take my mind off of the contractions. Leo walks through the living room and says:
"You don't look like you're going to cry anymore, are you still having contractions?"
Me: "Yes I am and I'm trying to read to Sweet Girl to take my mind off of them" and thinking I want to throw this book at your damn head, what the hell kind of question is that?
20 minutes later I make Leo call my parents to find out where they are because I am now READY to get to the hospital. I want to be there NOW.
They are on the freeway.
20 minutes later I demand Leo call my parents again to find out why the hell they aren't at our house yet. They just got off the freeway.
By the time they got in the driveway I was walking out the door. I said good by to Sweet Girl and good bye to my parents. Thanked them for coming and quickly told them how to fasten the car seat for Sweet Girl.
Now we are off to the hospital (in Leo's six-speed, that I wished until we got on the freeway was an automatic). FINALLY.
We get to the hospital and check in. Where the admitting lady is working in sllllloooooowwww motion and I keep my mouth shut to keep from telling her to hurry the fuck up. But I am nice and pleasant (well as pleasant as I can be at this point without saying anything vulgar).
We are taken back to the triage room, because you know they have to make sure you're telling the truth. Like I would really want to go and check in for the hell of it to have them check to see how far I've dilated because it feels so good when they check...Well we wait and wait and no one comes and there is no blanket or pillow in the little room and now I'm getting a little peeved. Finally someone comes in. And they check me and I am dilated 4-5. Woohoo, I wasn't faking!
We're admitted and taken to a room. We're situated pretty quickly. By about 6:00 or so, they give me my IV of pitocin, break my water and get the epidural ready. I would say by about 7:00 I was feeling nothing and just watching TV. We now had called everyone and informed them that our no name at the time baby was going to be born soon.
At about 9:30, I can start feeling contractions again so I request that I get another hit of meds in the epi. The nurse checks and sees that I am at 10 cm so she says "Can you do a test push?"
Me: "Sure"
Nurse: "Oh my god, stop. I need to get the doctor"
Me: "Ok"
The doctor is called and I am still sitting with my legs up while about 10 other people enter the room and get it ready. They had the room ready in probably about 5 minutes!
And the doctor says "Do you remember how to push"
Me: "I guess"
And away we go.
3 pushes, 8 minutes later Little Man was born at 9:52 PM. He weighed in a 9lbs 2 oz. And was a fat little round ball of baby. He was so cute and sweet.
I didn't even break a sweat birthing this kid and felt pretty good afterwards. At testament to avoiding induction at all costs I think!
I only took the motrin and refused the narcotic drugs since they made me so sick and I didn't really need them. Which the nurses said was totally unfair for someone to have a 9 lb baby in only 8 minutes and refuse drugs. I felt pretty good about that.
Leo's cousins came to visit about 11:00 or so and they said to me 'Jeez it doesn't even look like you had a baby'. I am assuming they meant because I didn't look all sweaty and like I had been put through the ringer. Not because I was still pretty large and looked pregnant still!
Leo's dad and step mom got to town about 1:30 AM. So we finally were able to get some sleep about 3:00 AM only to be awoken at 6:00 by all the barrage of nurses and doctors coming in to check on me and talk to me about this and that.
It was raining the next day when my parents, who had a bitch of a time getting Sweet Girl buckled in the car seat (remember I said I QUICKLY told them how to do it? Well that caused a few heated phone converstaions before they could leave to visit in order to instruct them how to do it), came to visit. Sweet Girl finally warmed back up to me and wanted to hold Little Man. But when she was done holding him she was done holding him and would pretty much push him off her lap.
We were in the hospital less then 48 hours, I was ready to get the hell out of there and to our own house and more importantly my own bed. Little Man was a good baby and only really cried when he was REALLY hungry. And he was hungry a lot, the kid ate sometimes every 45 minutes and he wasn't the expedient eater Sweet Girl was. He took a little longer.
In the first few weeks we adjusted nicely to having two kids. Sweet Girl did pretty good with him and adjusted well. She drew on his head with a green crayon, tried to headbutt him a few times and would try to poke him in the eyes. Overall she was your typical big sister.
So there you have it. Now he's two. He weighs as much as his sister, is a complete momma's boy, is talking more and really likes to hand out food or beer (especially from a cooler). His current interests are Elmo (even though he doesn't want Sesame Street), playing with anything Sweet Girl has, and coloring.
And now also we must wish Happy Birthday to our beautiful country as well. Today is our 232nd birthday. You really should take a moment to read the Declaration and reflect on our own countries birth story. It was a long road and we should all be thankful to our Fore Fathers for their perseverance and insight. Read it here. I wish our current leaders would reflect on it as well as our Constitution and remember the founding principles that we have so drastically moved away from in our current government state. But alas this is not a political blog so I will stop now. Just remember how our country originated and unless we strive to protect how we got here, it won't be the country you know much longer.
Happy Independence Day!
I will recap his birth story for you, you probably won't enjoy it quite as much as I will writing it but humor me anyway.
It was a pretty normal day actually. Leo let me sleep in since I didn't really sleep good during the night so I took advantage of it. We were planning to take Sweet Girl to the fireworks that evening so when I got ready I actually dried my hair and ran the flat iron on it so I would look halfway decent and not just air dried hair in a pony tail. We headed off for lunch and to go to Target to get Sweet Girl a new baby so she could have her own. We ate lunch at Ruby Tuesday's in Brentwood. I had the Ruby mini's and fries that had WAY too much seasoning. It was a yummy meal. We headed off to Target next. We found Sweet Girl a cute baby in it's own little carrier. It was really cute, so that is what we got. Then Sweet Girl and Leo went one way and I headed over to the sippy cup aisle because Sweet Girl needed some more cups. It was at this moment that I realized that I didn't feel quite right. I felt a little squirmy, in pain and I wanted to cry. I thought this was abnormal for me so I headed off to find Leo and inform him that I think we needed to call my parents and head to the hospital. I found him quickly due to hearing Sweet Girl screaming and running around. I inform him of this and to this he asks me:
"Well how far apart are your contractions?"
Me: "I don't know, I feel weird and I think it's time to call my parents."
Leo: "Well I don't want to call them and make them drive up here if we're not sure"
Me: "I'll start timing" and thinking I want to run you over with this fucking cart.
Me: "first one is 4 mins. I really want to cry"
We check out and go to the car where I am all squirmy and timing them at STILL four minutes apart.
Me: "Ok will please call them NOW and tell them to come up?"
Leo: "Ok"
He calls and they are on their way. I am doing my best to not really pay attention to how uncomfortable I am. We get home and I am reading to Sweet Girl as a means to take my mind off of the contractions. Leo walks through the living room and says:
"You don't look like you're going to cry anymore, are you still having contractions?"
Me: "Yes I am and I'm trying to read to Sweet Girl to take my mind off of them" and thinking I want to throw this book at your damn head, what the hell kind of question is that?
20 minutes later I make Leo call my parents to find out where they are because I am now READY to get to the hospital. I want to be there NOW.
They are on the freeway.
20 minutes later I demand Leo call my parents again to find out why the hell they aren't at our house yet. They just got off the freeway.
By the time they got in the driveway I was walking out the door. I said good by to Sweet Girl and good bye to my parents. Thanked them for coming and quickly told them how to fasten the car seat for Sweet Girl.
Now we are off to the hospital (in Leo's six-speed, that I wished until we got on the freeway was an automatic). FINALLY.
We get to the hospital and check in. Where the admitting lady is working in sllllloooooowwww motion and I keep my mouth shut to keep from telling her to hurry the fuck up. But I am nice and pleasant (well as pleasant as I can be at this point without saying anything vulgar).
We are taken back to the triage room, because you know they have to make sure you're telling the truth. Like I would really want to go and check in for the hell of it to have them check to see how far I've dilated because it feels so good when they check...Well we wait and wait and no one comes and there is no blanket or pillow in the little room and now I'm getting a little peeved. Finally someone comes in. And they check me and I am dilated 4-5. Woohoo, I wasn't faking!
We're admitted and taken to a room. We're situated pretty quickly. By about 6:00 or so, they give me my IV of pitocin, break my water and get the epidural ready. I would say by about 7:00 I was feeling nothing and just watching TV. We now had called everyone and informed them that our no name at the time baby was going to be born soon.
At about 9:30, I can start feeling contractions again so I request that I get another hit of meds in the epi. The nurse checks and sees that I am at 10 cm so she says "Can you do a test push?"
Me: "Sure"
Nurse: "Oh my god, stop. I need to get the doctor"
Me: "Ok"
The doctor is called and I am still sitting with my legs up while about 10 other people enter the room and get it ready. They had the room ready in probably about 5 minutes!
And the doctor says "Do you remember how to push"
Me: "I guess"
And away we go.
3 pushes, 8 minutes later Little Man was born at 9:52 PM. He weighed in a 9lbs 2 oz. And was a fat little round ball of baby. He was so cute and sweet.
I didn't even break a sweat birthing this kid and felt pretty good afterwards. At testament to avoiding induction at all costs I think!
I only took the motrin and refused the narcotic drugs since they made me so sick and I didn't really need them. Which the nurses said was totally unfair for someone to have a 9 lb baby in only 8 minutes and refuse drugs. I felt pretty good about that.
Leo's cousins came to visit about 11:00 or so and they said to me 'Jeez it doesn't even look like you had a baby'. I am assuming they meant because I didn't look all sweaty and like I had been put through the ringer. Not because I was still pretty large and looked pregnant still!
Leo's dad and step mom got to town about 1:30 AM. So we finally were able to get some sleep about 3:00 AM only to be awoken at 6:00 by all the barrage of nurses and doctors coming in to check on me and talk to me about this and that.
It was raining the next day when my parents, who had a bitch of a time getting Sweet Girl buckled in the car seat (remember I said I QUICKLY told them how to do it? Well that caused a few heated phone converstaions before they could leave to visit in order to instruct them how to do it), came to visit. Sweet Girl finally warmed back up to me and wanted to hold Little Man. But when she was done holding him she was done holding him and would pretty much push him off her lap.
We were in the hospital less then 48 hours, I was ready to get the hell out of there and to our own house and more importantly my own bed. Little Man was a good baby and only really cried when he was REALLY hungry. And he was hungry a lot, the kid ate sometimes every 45 minutes and he wasn't the expedient eater Sweet Girl was. He took a little longer.
In the first few weeks we adjusted nicely to having two kids. Sweet Girl did pretty good with him and adjusted well. She drew on his head with a green crayon, tried to headbutt him a few times and would try to poke him in the eyes. Overall she was your typical big sister.
So there you have it. Now he's two. He weighs as much as his sister, is a complete momma's boy, is talking more and really likes to hand out food or beer (especially from a cooler). His current interests are Elmo (even though he doesn't want Sesame Street), playing with anything Sweet Girl has, and coloring.
And now also we must wish Happy Birthday to our beautiful country as well. Today is our 232nd birthday. You really should take a moment to read the Declaration and reflect on our own countries birth story. It was a long road and we should all be thankful to our Fore Fathers for their perseverance and insight. Read it here. I wish our current leaders would reflect on it as well as our Constitution and remember the founding principles that we have so drastically moved away from in our current government state. But alas this is not a political blog so I will stop now. Just remember how our country originated and unless we strive to protect how we got here, it won't be the country you know much longer.
Happy Independence Day!
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2 comments:
Happy Birthday Little Man!!!
I'm reading a few days late, but I hope Little Man had a great day!
I remember this day two years ago like it was yesterday! Man these lttle people grow up way too fast.
Can't wait to hear how it went at the resort.
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