Bridget Jones' Diary - A new mom's twist

Pounds lost: about 20 (yes, I am going to rub that in because I can't believe it...I am only 4 pounds above pre-baby weight...it's all in the pooch)
Teet's sucked: oh, thousands
Times pooped: enough!
Hours slept: O=20, Mom=~5 (not sequential)
In my usual creative time of middle of the night, I thought of taking this spin on my mommy-hood diary. Why? Well, this is what my life about lately...those moments in between are usually me adoring O, giving her a bath (it's amazing how easily the water goes from too hot to too cold...I can't keep up! ) or reading Harry Potter to her. (HP is the only book that takes longer than a minute to read).
This morning, I actually got out of bed at 9:30...time to feed O again. I was determined, though to at least grab coffee before I had a baby hanging from my boob. I think I tempted fate by trying to make oatmeal as well. No such luck! No sooner had I gotten the bowl out of the microwave, did O start crying to be fed.
As is my usual habit, I went to change her in between breasts (halftime show...it usually wakes her up). Lucky me, I noticed a stain on the back of her pajamas...yes ladies and gents, O had pooped up her back. Assplosions as Uncle Jeff likes to call them (O's uncle, my bro-in-law). Luckily for me, it wasn't as terrible as I have heard they can be. (War stories from other parents that only seem to come to light when you are pregnant.) But, still, not something you want with your coffee.
Luckily and not-so-luckily, I am staying at my parents house right now and I have a few extra hands around the house during the day. My dad was able to grab a change of clothes for O while I finished changing her. I say not-so-luckily about the return-to-nest situation because we are here due to a cracked drain pipe at our place and they actually have to dig up our backyard while we cannot use water in our house. This, my friends, is what is called a money pit. There is literally a pit in our backyard for emphasis. Hopefully, they will have completed the work today so we can move back home, but this will not be a cheap job and we are praying that it is covered by homeowner's insurance.
On the bright side, our place is close to my parents and we can come and go from our place as we find we need more stuff. It's actually amazing how little stuff O needs. Diapers, wipes, and my boobs and she's a content kiddo. I say that now, as I watch the ever growing pile of toys and gates that are being installed for when my nephew comes over to be babysat. It makes me appreciate the simplicity of my situation. O can't really go anywhere, so as long as I make sure there are no suffocation hazards around her, she is good to go.
I even got in a workout on Sunday (all seated equipment as I need support for that area). I guess they tell you not to exercises until 6 weeks post-partum. I asked my dad if I needed to wait that long as I felt good enough to at least get on a reclined bicycle and he gave me the green light. In fact, he said the longer I wait, at this point, the harder it will be to get back into shape, especially, now that I have a boost of confidence from seeing my current weight. I found, though, that I probably should stay away from any ab workouts at this time. I did a few crunches and could feel that my abs have not quite gone back to where they are supposed to be (as they separate to make room for baby during pregnancy). That's okay, the only time I really had a taut stomach is when O was filling it.
Oh, and how can I forget John and my first night out since O was born. I get a random call from my sister this past Friday. She was willing to babysit so we could go out to dinner. How awesome! Even though I am not yet dying to get away from my baby, I have read that it is important to take that time for just you and your husband..so I accepted the wonderful offer. John and I went to a local tapas restaurant and I GOT DRUNK. Well, not like that is hard to do for me since my tolerance was down, but I was finally able to enjoy the excellent sangria knowing that O would be able to be bottle fed and I could do my first pump-and-dump. (This is another of those things you learn from other mothers...) I was actually excited that I had to pump-n-dump my intoxicated boob juice...because it meant that I was intoxicated for the first time in a LOOOONG time. I wasn't stumbly drunk, just enough where I felt drunk. I WAS exited to dump, until I saw that alcohol actually increased my production...then I was sad that I had to pour it out. Oh the sacrifice!! But, thanks again to Auntie Chrissy for the opportunity. I now know how important and great it is to take a few hours to yourself...for dinner, for blogging...whatever. ;-)

Matilda's slowly coming around

When we brought Olivia home from the hospital, our cat, Matilda, would run away from the strange, small, moving object. Finally, yesterday, she started to come closer and closer to me as I was holding O. She even slept next to me when I was taking a nap with O in my arms. AND last night, she got back to her old position at the foot of our bed. Before you know it, we'll be a family again ;-) Our pediatrician told us that cats older than 5 years tend to become scarce when a new baby is brought into the home, but a cat between 1-5 years can go either way. It looks like Matilda's pendulum is swinging back to our side...slowly but surely.
I started reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows to Olivia yesterday. I figure it's going to last longer than the five minutes it takes to read the baby books I have, plus, it will help me get through the tome. Win win! I am probably the only person on the planet who can't read a whole Harry Potter book. I have never finished one (thank goodness for the movies)...but the tide will turn. I may just finish it by the time my maternity leave is up.
Yes, it's true..I am able to nap finally. The erratic sleeping at night has finally caught up to me and I have gotten about an hour's nap the past two days. Even the nap-challenged can sleep during the day with a newborn. Next to conquer...working out. I have been meaning to do these baby yoga cd's that I got from the library, but I haven't worked that into my day yet. It's amazing how time flies when you're breastfeeding. It's like I just put them away and it's go time again! AND I am on the longer intervals than I know that some of my friends have been. I heard every hour from a friend of mine. I have tried to avoid that scenario...I just don't think I can replenish the supply that fast! So far, I am on the every three hour (from start to start) plan. Sometimes it's less, but usually O is sleeping and I have to wake to feed her. (I ain't complaining!) It takes time to produce the super-milk ;0)
It's sunny out today, I think I will take O for a walk to the library. I can't wait for it to get warm so we can spend even more days outside!

The four letter word every mother wants to hear

Okay, so maybe not every mother...just me, in particular: Tall
My baby is tall and skinny. She takes after her dad after all! Woo hoo!
Grandma (mom), Olivia and I went to the pediatrician today for O's two week checkup. Not only is it determined that she's tall and skinny, but she gained weight! I have been hoping and praying that my boob juice has the stuff, and it DOES! (I think we've passed the point of TMI on this blog..., we're all girlfriends here, right?!) Not only did she meet the goal of being back at her birth weight, but she gained a pound since her last visit. Olivia now weighs 7lbs 11 oz. That's 7 ounces above her birth weight. I tell ya, I could not be prouder.
Other than that, everything else is "normal". My pediatrician "couldn't be more pleased". Especially with the record shattering weight gain ;-)
Now I have to start giving her vitamin drops every day. Apparently babies used to get plenty of vitamin D because parents took them outside all of the time and now most parents, because of the depletion in the ozone, do everything to keep their kids out of the sun and kids are now getting rickets (muscle deformity due to lack of vitamin D). Fascinating how we trade one worry for another. I am sure this is just a drop in the bucket compared to what I have to look forward to...
Today was also John's first day back at work. It went pretty well. Olivia is just a great baby so far. She sleeps most of the time, except when I am feeding her [my power-milk ;-)] So, at least the first day, was not stressful at all. It helped having grandma with me so I could run some errands too. I actually got in a nap today. Okay, I didn't really go into a deep sleep, but O and I got some couch time. I had her chest to chest (my crack, remember). Before I knew it, John was home from work. Where I promptly handed her to him and made him change her diaper. Maybe tomorrow I will let him take his coat off first ;-)

The honeymoon is over...well, sorta

It's officially been two weeks since Olivia was born. I almost started to feel like I was good at this parenting thing until the other night when she was awake for most of the night and just wanted to suck the life out of my finger (as pacifiers are verboten for the first month). Then, I realized that I wasn't just a fabulous parent, that this is the "honeymoon" phase where babies sleep all of the time and then eat and poop. It's easy to figure out what they need.
Well, the other shoe hasn't fallen off quite yet. She is still sleeping a lot. And, I mean a lot. She even gets 4-5 hour periods of sleep at night, which is a blessing and a curse for me, because I rely on her hand sucking to let me know she needs to be fed at night. On the one hand, I get to sleep that much at night and I feel like a new person, on the other hand, I miss a 2-3 hour feeding period and I feel guilty that I haven't fed her and/or pumped to keep the juices flowing. We'll see how terrible this is when I go to the pediatrician on Monday. Hopefully I have been giving her enough to where she is at least back to her birth weight.
Another bonus (sarcastically speaking) of her sleeping all of the time is that we apparently don't change her diaper enough. She already has a diaper rash and I feel like a failure. Good thing we have a good supply of Butt Paste and Desitin.
I do feel so blessed to have a relatively great baby. But, I inherited the pessimism gene and I have a feeling once John returns to work, she'll bring out the big guns and let me know she was just putting on a show for daddy. I could be wrong. I HOPE I am wrong, but I am not going to delude myself into being so confident that I am DEFINITELY wrong.
Another issue that has taken the air out of my tires, so to speak, is my boobs stopped producing the mass quantities of milk they were in the first week. I pumped 5 ounces earlier and now I am consistently a little over 3. Which, is what she needs, but I want to go above and beyond that...I want to be an over-achiever in the moo department. To top it all off, I am producing half as much milk in my left boob as in my right. I hope that changes soon. I Googled the issue and it seems pretty common, but it doesn't quite make sense to me how to rectify the situation. If I feed off the better boob, then the slacker will produce less as it makes what it needs to (no?) and if I feed off the slacker boob, it will not have the time to "fill up". (Hey, I don't claim to be an expert on these things.)
I just realized, this is pretty entertaining as far as my big concerns in life go... it's amazing how your priorities change when you are at home with your baby and not out in the real world. Which, happens to be falling apart right now with a crappy economy....so I am actually glad I get to hide my head in the sand for a while in that regard. In fact, the crappy economy could not have come at a better time for me because my bosses now WANT me to take the full three months off so they don't have to pay me during this time. Not getting fired and getting full maternity leave....YES, PLEASE!
Yesterday, John and I cashed in on our auction prize of a photo session and portrait with a professional photographer (our first family portrait...AWWWWWWWWW). http://www.cpbysharon.com/portfolio/ there is this picture of a mom with her baby that captured my pregnant heart at the auction and John and I bid on it and WON! Well, we won a $50 savings on the "value" of the portrait and photo session, but it is perfect, no!? The down side was this woman's studio is in her home in Naperville...a good 45 minutes away. I was concerned about the long drive as it was not QUITE two weeks yet, but O slept the whole time. As I got out of the car, I realized why long drives are not recommended...uh, it was a little painful down there. Not permanent pain, but a nice stabbing pain as soon as you get out of the car. But, I digress, the photo shoot went well. Olivia would not wake up for some "open eye" shots, but sleeping babies are just as cute. I can't wait to see the photos!
As far as recovering from the delivery, they tell you two weeks. I have to say, I feel about 95% better. I no longer need a suitcase of stuff to go to the restroom. The happy hemmies are sticking around, but everything else seems to be ahhh-ight. I may soon convince myself that having another baby is do-able. That is, if I don't read my own blog from the delivery day ;-)
And now, for something completely different:

Advice

I found out, in this short time as a mom, that you will get a lot of information and some of it will conflict. For example, the pediatrician at the hospital told me to breastfeed for 15 minutes and then the lactation consultant and the nurse said not to time breastfeeding. Feed until your boobs empty or the baby stops. I have since done the latter, but this is not the only advice I have received, from PROFESSIONALS. I know once you have a baby, everyone becomes an expert, but these people SHOULD be experts...and have their facts straight. Especially if they work for the same hospital. I guess what I have learned from this experience is to listen to the advice and do what works. You cannot spoil a baby within the first three and a half months of life, or six months...depending on who you talk to ;-)
I would also like to talk about my boobs. I do not have the gargantuan bowling balls you see in the instructional videos, but they are, definitely bigger. When I am full of milk, it's like I have a bad boob job...hard and very perky. Very entertaining stuff. I just made John take a picture of me for posterity. Those who have been keeping up with my blog know that I have been dreaming of this day and now that it's here, I appreciate it. It's not just that they're bigger that I appreciate...it's that they work...for feeding and telling time ;-) I know when it's been three hours since Olivia's last feeding without looking at a clock.
Today is St Patty's day. Olivia is all in green today. She even has a special outfit her grandmother bought her, the first outfit she received when I was pregnant.
I am also going to give Olivia her first bath in water today and we are going to walk to the library. It is a gorgeous day outside and we are all in need of some sunshine and fresh air. The weather is not supposed to last all week, so I better take advantage!
I am not climbing the walls just yet as far as dying to get out of the house. I like having all of my supplies here..for O and for me as I have not quite healed yet. Even though it's not impossible to travel with the necessities, I am sure there is always something one forgets to bring.

100th Blog

Wow, it's like my blogs can go into syndication now.
We survived our first week with Olivia and are onto the second. One more week of having daddy around full time...I better take advantage! He's been great so far. I think I have changed her diaper only a handful of times (hey, I am the milk factory over here). Those moments of seeing daddy-daughter bonding time are priceless and just melt your lil' heart. I recommend it for any time one needs to put things into perspective. Nothing else exists when you are staring at your husband and your baby.
I finally have the breastfeeding thing down. She still falls asleep, but I found that changing her in between boobs helps at least get to both boobs before she's completely wiped out again. It's not ideal as the stuff moves through her, if you know what I mean, but it's what works. That's what is important at this stage in the game...whatever gets you through the day as your time is now on 2-3 hour increments.
Maybe it hasn't caught up with me yet, but I am surviving okay with the new sleep, or lack-thereof schedule. Okay, enough about that...I don't want to jeopardize a good thing by writing about it...I am just saying, I am relatively alert. Of course, I could be blogging in an incoherent language..understood only by myself and other new moms and not even know it. :-)
Olivia's umbilical cord fell off two days ago! It's like we have a new child! What's more, I can bather her in water now as opposed to the sponge bath situation. Not that it was torture, but I am just looking forward to the real deal.
Since we had a "happy dance" as Karen called it when O was in utero, I thought a little happy dance with grandpa will bring back the smiles. I thought of doing one myself with Olivia at my belly, but I am not sure her lack of ability to support the weight of her head is conducive to latin dancing just yet.

One week down! We made it, Olivia!

Happy Birthday, Olivia! One week old!
So far the sleep thing has been manageable. Since John decided to stay home, I get some sleep after the morning feed. This means that I don't get out of bed until 10:30am, but I'll take what I can get and it gets me through. I planned on sleeping when the baby sleeps, as recommended. But it is amazing how the day goes by and I haven't gotten one nap in. So, I start the day with it. As long as I sleep some, I still feel human.
I am starting to feel better "down there" too. I found that a heating pad on the low back takes the pressure off. I tried a bath, but that only made me feel good for as long as I was in the water. If I could permanently be in a bathtub until I heal...well, let's get back to the real world.
Olivia has been sleeping all day and is wide awake just when I am ready to pass out at night. But, she is so cute, I don't mind pushing through until my morning nap. I sometimes get a stretch between 2am and 6am where we both sleep. I wake up with, what I imagine, a bad boob job to feel like. Then, I send John to change Olivia while I do my bathroom ritual and then we are both ready for the early morning feed.
Olivia has taken to go back to sleep during the feedings. It is hard work for the little babe. But, I am worried that she'll not get enough and/or have to feed more often. So far the 2-3 hour schedule has worked out.
Olivia also survived her first sponge bath the other day. John and I combined forces to get her all cleaned up. I don't think she was dirty, but it's something to check off the list during the first week. Her umbilical cord is still hanging on for dear life, so we can't immerse her in water yet. I can't wait to start that ritual. I look forward to the time together with her.
My new "crack" is to have tummy time with her skin to skin. I do it after each feed. I tell ya, there is nothing better in this world. She even seems to be able to move her own head around a little, so I feel like this is helping her grow strength...win, win all around.
Screw baby music. I have been playing gipsyland lately. It was the music from the video in the previous video I posted. This girl is going to have rhythm...I hope.
The cat has been totally neglected. Matilda actually is coming to me to be pet. She usually makes me work for her affection, but now that I am otherwise occupied, she feels she has to make an effort. I feel bad that I can't give her too much attention. It seems I am always feeding or doing the bathroom ritual or getting my tummy time fix. She seems to be scared of Olivia. Like she has no idea what she is. She literally looks confused when she sees Olivia on our lap. Poor little blighter, as John would say. Matilda has even been spending the nights downstairs where she used to be in bed with us. We haven't kicked her out. She has inflicted this upon herself. I wonder if cats have an innate understanding that they should stay away from the baby for safety reasons...or she's just mad at us for replacing her...
Back to my baby.

At laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaast...my Olivia has come along

I am sure we all know that once you become a mom, you don't get much time to do blogging. I am taking advantage of the few seconds Olivia is content in her crib to try and get down everything I wanted to remember from the moment the contractions started....

I woke up at about 3:30am on Friday, March 6 with what felt like aunt flo was coming back to town. "This is different", I thought. Different, at that point was a welcome sign. The fact that the pain came and went made me even more confident that things were starting. At about 6 am or so, I called my dad to tell him that I am having contractions. "go for a long walk" he said. So, my mom popped over and we went for a long walk and then for coffee. This was the strangest walk ever because I was so aware of how my life was soon to change. I was walking to bring Olivia into this world as fast as possible. (Little did I know that it didn't help much, but I will get to that). We stopped for coffee on the way home at Caribou. Their question of the day was "what is the third most fluent language spoken in Canada". This has nothing to do with anything except it was part of "THE" day and I want to remember everything that stuck out that day.

After the walk I went home. John stayed home from work as we all thought today was the day. I showered, packed, did my hair, put on makeup. Made sure that I would be camera ready for the many photos that were sure to be taken. (I am sure there are some moms out there who are laughing at me right now...and I join them, but hindsight is 20/20.)

I started to time my contractions. At first, they were 4 minutes apart and then got further apart. That's not how it's supposed to go. But, from 11am to noon, they were consistently 5 minutes apart and so I called the doctors office and they told me to go ahead and go to the delivery room. Soon, I would be a mom. (or so I thought)

We get to the delivery room and they put me in a room right away. I change into the lovely hospital gown and just am so excited to get this going. The nurse comes in and connects me to all of the monitors, asks me all of the questions about blood issues and if I drank alcohol or fell while pregnant (CYA questions, I am sure). Then, the doctor comes in to check how far I am dilated and it was only 1 1/2 cm. (All of those contractions and I only dilated another 1/2 cm?!?!?!?!) Then she says that I will stay there for two hours and we will talk about sending me home if nothing changes.

WHAT! I can't go home!!! I have been waiting for, what seems, an eternity and I can't go home and sit there and twiddle my thumbs. I am going to have a nervous breakdown! This is NOT how things went for my friends and sister who recently gave birth. It seems, for them, they showed up and were ready to go within a few short hours.

So, I call my dad. Yes, I am an adult, but I am a stressed pregger too. He said to ask them to be induced if things haven't changed. So, when the nurse came back, I did just that. Her response was not what I expected, she frowned and said that they were busy today and that she couldn't guarantee that I could be induced. This is NOT how things are SUPPOSED to go! Didn't she know this?!

So, I called my dad again. This time, he called the hospital to see if he, an OB/GYN can get them to keep me there. Apparently he talked to my nurse, Heidi (who I hated at this point, as she was not the bearer of good news). She came into our room and said that I most likely wouldn't be sent home, but they could not guarantee anything until my two hours of monitoring were up. She came to my bed and rubbed my leg to console me and I just lost it. I started crying like...a baby as I said goodbye to every vision and expectation I had of how this labor and delivery was going to go. On the bright side, I was warming up to my nurse, who didn't seem so heartless after all. In fact, she would be the one constant, caring figure I would have throughout this whole delivery thing.

After the two hours was up (about 3pm). The doctor checked my progression and I was still 1 1/2 cm. My heart fell to below the floor. But, the doctor actually expanded my cervix to 3 cm, digitally. Err, I don't want to know how that worked, but it was progress...unnatural or otherwise. The doctor and the nurse left the room to call my OB and ask them if it was okay that they induce me. Apparently, they could not get a hold of my doctor so they had to talk to someone in my doctor's group to get an approval for me to stay and be induced. Great...a woman who I have never met is going to decide my fate. Things were getting worse...

They returned to the room and, Hallelujah, I could stay. What a relief! Now they asked if I wanted an epidural, to which I promptly replied in the affirmative. When I was less pregnant, I considered what it would feel like, if I could handle a totally natural birth. Now that I am past my due date and huge, I didn't want to know what it would feel like to pass whatever was taking up that enormous space in my belly through my...well, you know.

They also asked if I wanted to wait or if I wanted the epidural right away. Again, thinking I would be delivering as quickly as most of my friends, I went for the immediate pain relief. At that point, the contractions were still manageable, but, why feel the pain when I don't have to, right? I will never forget showing up to the hospital the day my sister was to deliver my nephew and I walked in and she was happy as a clam because she "felt nothing". I wanted that bliss.

After the epidural, John and I were ordered to take advantage of the time to wait and rest. We happily complied.

At some point, my sister and mom showed up. It was great to have some familiar faces in the room. They have been a huge support to me through all of this. We took some photos and waited around. Since things were not progressing, they went home to sleep. All of us were thinking that they would be back before the day was done... not so much.

Heidi's shift ended at 7pm. After 6.5 hours at the hospital, and not any faster change, she said goodbye and promised to visit us the next day. At this point, I had still not had any pitocin because I was contracting on my own.

At around 9pm or so, the comfort I was feeling from the epidural was wearing off. I was now on the pitocin. Oh great. I was not sure how much of a pansy I was and the "pressure" that you are supposed to feel was actually painful to me or if it was real pain and the epidural was wearing off. So, I called the nurse. (After Heidi, I never saw the same person twice...okay, maybe twice, but there was like a slew of different people coming in and out throughout the labor and it seemed like their shifts lasted an hour.) The anesthesiologist came back to redose me and I was content again. This time, the numbing tingle was felt all over my body. I went back to bed.

At around 1am I was feeling the pain again. Only, this time, it lasted longer, the "down time" was shorter and the pain was worse. ( Apparently I was metabolizing the epidural faster than usual. One of the many people that I saw told me that I would be contracting at a rate of 1cm an hour. I was about 5cm dilated at this point (5 hours to go according to the schedule). I knew that I could not handle 5 hours of what I was feeling. I started to doubt my ability to go through with this and/or rethink my not wanting to have a Cesarean. The nurse told me I had two options: They could try to redose me or I would have to get a whole new epidural.

What if I decided on the latter and it didn't work? Does this mean that I would have to go through 5 hours of a pain that I didn't think I could handle 1 more hour of? The anesthesiologist came in and we decided to go with the new epidural. After I felt the epidural working, the "pressure" was definitely pressure, meaning, what I was feeling was definitely PAIN. Now, I think I can do this.

Well, I thought that right until before the end. The pain was coming back and my body was going into auto-push when it got bad. I was scared I was doing something wrong by not pushing when I was told, but I could not help it. Then, the final doctor came in to check on me at around 4am.

"You're complete." she said. After 24 hours of labor, these two words have never sounded so sweet. Now, the real fun begins. Jo, the final nurse I saw came in and got me set up to start pushing. Aside from my sister, who delivered in four pushes, my friends have gone up to 3 hours of pushing. After all I had been through, I was, again, doubting if I could make it that long. But, I wanted to see my baby and I was able to conjure strength from a reserve I didn't know I had.

You have to push a few seconds after you feel a contraction coming on and push three times per contraction for 10 seconds, if possible. At first, I could tell when the contractions were coming on by myself. I pushed as directed, but couldn't tell if any progress was being made. I don't remember how many times I had to push, although I know the total time was about an hour. (Thank goodness!) Towards the end, I was too exhausted to tell if a contraction was coming on and I needed John to watch the monitor to tell me when to push. The problem was, the nurse had to change gloves for each contraction (I guess that's a uber-sterile hospital standard) and kept blocking John's view of the monitor. But, we managed to work together to get the head out.

Somewhere during the pushing process, my mom and my sister showed up. On the intercom they asked if I was accepting visitors. In unison, everyone in the room shouted "No!". Sorry mom and Chrissy..I didn't even want John to see what was happening to me at that point for fear he'd never look at me the same.

I had to have an episiotomy to get the head out. Fun stuff, I tell ya. (Luckily she applied a local anesthetic.) Once the head was out, I was thinking to myself "I am not going to make it through pushing the body out!". But, one push and Olivia literally flew out. I could feel how fast she slid out of there. That is about the most entertaining part of this whole "journey".

At last, I thought, this would be over soon. I will hold my baby and cry.

Well, it didn't quite happen like that. They took Olivia away to get cleaned and all of those things they do to babies right after delivery. I had to deliver the placenta and then get stitched up. It seemed like forever. This process was, I think, worse than the actual pushing part. All I wanted was for the doctor to cover me up and step away from my privates, but she kept stitching and pushing on me. It just wouldn't end. I really hate TV for making deliveries look like you pushed the baby out and they handed it to you and you smiled at your mate and at the baby at a job well done. Even the documentaries don't give you an idea of how long it takes after the baby is born for them to walk away from "that area". I am sorry for the images, but I am all about being honest here. SOMEone has to.

Finally, they brought her to me. I held her in my arms and just stared at her. I am not sure I can, after five days, believe that she's mine. "When does it sink in?" I asked my sister. "9 months, she joked.(referring to my 9 month old nephew) I didn't cry as I thought I would. When I was pregnant, I would cry just thinking about it and now that the moment was here, nada. It is just so overwhelming that all you can do is stare at your baby.

Almost immediately after the pictures, hugs and kisses from family, and a failed attempt at breastfeeding post-birth, they took us to the recovery room. Because I delivered on a Saturday, I didn't have to go home until Monday. The two night stay starts on the day you deliver. "Thank goodness!" I thought. I could use the help for as long as possible.

They took Olivia to the nursery and John and I went to our room. We were on the second floor. The overflow floor from the third floor. Apparently I delivered at a popular time. No matter. All I wanted to do was sleep and for no one else to touch or look at me down there again. You kind of feel bad that you aren't with your baby, but the desire to rest wins the day.

The next three days with my new wonderful baby is a blur of bliss and people coming in and out of my room to do vital checks at all hours of the day. I tell ya, if it isn't the baby keeping you up at night, it's a nurse coming in to do something to you or the baby. It's good in a way because they always ask if you need anything and were extremely helpful throughout my stay. But, I am glad to be home...where I can lock the door.

I did manage to breastfeed at the hospital. For me, the only way to get Olivia to latch on was to lie down. Apparently, though, I wasn't doing it right because, by the second day, well, let's just say my nipples were mad at me. So, I saw the lactation consultant and she set things straight. All of those videos that I watched that teach you how to breastfeed never really prepare you for the real thing. Nor does the plastic baby doll you use to practice on in the breastfeeding class. Apparently babies heads don't stay perfectly still and they don't have their mouths open all of the time. And for the videos....my boobs are not the size of bowling balls, like all of those women they cast to make us feel bad about the way our nipples don't do "that" and our boobs don't just fall into place all of the time. I can laugh about that, but it hurts.

Why does it hurt, you may ask? Well, delivering a baby does a number on your privates. I won't go into detail, but let's just say there is a process to going to the bathroom at this point. It ain't just get in, get out anymore. Now you have to use a water bottle, creams and pads that should never be that large. I am still wearing the hospital issue disposable underwear. Of all of the inconveniences that I have to go through right now, the convenience of throwing out my underwear is priceless. For those who haven't had babies yet, or will have another, I recommend asking for copious amounts of the hospital issued underwear.

On the last day of our stay, they used to say you are typically out by 11am. They didn't say that to us. We had to wait for the gynecologist from my doctor's practice that was on duty at the hospital to discharge me. It turns out, we waited until 6pm for the doctor to show up. In my mind I am sure that we were forgotten about, being on the overflow floor and all. I knew in my head that the actual doctor visit would last two seconds for all of that waiting we did. I wanted to just go down to Labor and Delivery and have her check me out from in between deliveries (I HOPE that she was busy delivering babies and not forgetting about me, like I fear.) So, after the two second "How are you feeling?" "Fine." discharge procedure, all we had to do was get all of the paperwork and for Olivia to get the anti-baby-theft monitor cut off.

I read that it was standard hospital procedure for them to force the mom to ride in a wheelchair to the entrance of the hospital. A CYA approach to making sure the mom didn't faint and injure herself while in the hospital. Apparently, they were so busy they just asked if I felt like I could make it out without one. The final kiss of death to my perception of the whole baby delivery process. No parade to the car with balloons hanging from my wheelchair and doctors and nurses waving and admiring my baby. (okay, the last part was not the realistic part of my visions...more TV influenced).

We get in the car and, my boppy, the one that the lactation consultant said was worthless for breastfeeding, came in handy as a cushion for the car ride home. So, if you have one...bring it with you to the hospital for nothing but that reason.

On the ride home, my milk has clearly come in and my breasts were boulders. I had missed a feeding due to the timing conflicting with the discharge procedure. My boobs were letting me know that big time. My parents and my sister's family were waiting at our house with dinner prepared. I felt bad, but I knew that I would have to run in and feed Olivia tout suite.

Finally, we get HOME. It has never felt so good. My family was waiting at our back door (our main entrance). My mom had created this beautiful chalk sign in our backyard walk saying, in pink bubble letters "Welcome home Olivia!!!"

Even though this whole delivery was nothing what I expected, I can look at it with some laughs and some cringes. Mostly I am amazed at my ability to do what I had done and the amazing creature that John and I created...that made me go through the hardest experience in my life just to be with her. So far, she's been worth it a million times over.

Today, we just got back from the pediatrician and Olivia is doing well. All of her stats are in the 50 percentile. She is in the lower percentile weight and height ratio...less weight for her height, but that is fine. In fact, I know she didn't get that from me. She actually slept for four hours straight last night and I couldn't love her more for that. So far, she's been asleep all day and wide awake at night. So, I appreciate the four hours. We have a co-sleeper for her, but she can't be alone yet without crying, so she has been moved to bed with me. Even though that makes for a more dreamless sleep for me, I do love looking at her, no matter what time it is. If she's awake, it's so funny to have those little eyes staring back at you in the dark.

I think I covered all of the finer points of this experience. Now, let me go enjoy my baby, will ya!

You can't always get what you waaaaaaaaant.

My long awaited doctor's appointment left me in tears. I am over it now as the good news is, Olivia is doing well...the bad news is that I am still 1 cm dilated AND I gained THREE pounds in one week from consuming all of that food and/or Olivia just got even huger. (yes, I know that's bad grammar.) I did get an additional ultrasound (to check the amniotic fluid), so I can't complain too much. I did get to see her again..heart beating, all her limbs there...she's still a girl...still hiding her face from the camera...
On another "small world" note, I saw a girl I knew from the high school track team and haven't seen since high school. She had her baby girl with her...the youngest of three children. Man, it's amazing how she looked the same since high school but she is a full blown mom. I am still contemplating one kid and she had THREE. I thought, for sure, randomly seeing someone from your past before a doctor's visit meant I was going to hear the news I wanted to hear, but no such luck. Well, sometimes you can't always get what you want but you get what you need. Thank you Mick Jagger.
I know that, some day soon, I will look back and appreciate this....

Now for the voodoo medicine

Woe is me. My doctor's appointment got booted to this afternoon because my doc had to attend to someone who WAS in labor yesterday. I think I could handle about any reason for having to reschedule BUT the fact that someone ELSE was in labor. Talk about salt in the wound! So, now I am counting down the minutes until my appointment to see how far along I am and to make sure everything is okay.
I have inquired on facebook as to alternatives to promoting labor and have had some good suggestions. I am going to go holistic on this pregnancy and get me some raspberry leaf tea, evening primerose oil (why evening, I don't know) and then get me some pineapple. I cannot believe it has come to this. As an added bonus, I even inquired about acupuncture. If it comes to me looking like a porcupine to get Olivia into this world, then I will do it. I am curious about the practice anyway, and almost considered it as a fertility treatment when I was trying to get pregnant.
I wonder if I just have an uber strong uterus...maybe something's going on down there that makes it hard to get pregnant and hard to go into labor. These past two weeks have been sheer torture and I am not sure I can make it longer. I hope my doc wants to induce me sooner than later...if it comes to that.
Yesterday I decided to call John at work to ask him to pick up some eggs. He answered the phone "you having a baby?". I guess I should have pondered randomly calling John at work during this time. I just didn't consider that he is as anxious as I to have some different news.

She's making me wait, I am going to embarrass her!

Sometimes you gotta say "to hell" with the stress of it all and just dance. It's one day past the due date and I am already this nutty:

We were listening to this music in a tapas restaurant in Vegas when she was clearly moving to the beat. I am hoping the tunes get Olivia groovin' and wanting to come out. Not to mention, I am cracking myself up.

Toooooooo-morrow, Tooooo-morrow. It better be, Tooooooo-morrow

I went to yoga this morning. I was debating on whether or not to go as I wasn't feeling like facing the fact that I am in shape enough to go to yoga and my due date is tomorrow. The yoga instructor asked me when I was due and I begrudgingly said "Tomorrow". Everyone laughed. "I wasn't expecting that answer" she said. But, alas, it is true. I am due tomorrow and I feel fine. I want to feel contractions. I don't want to go to my doctor's appointment on Tuesday and discuss my options. But, my yoga instructor prescribed beer, spicy food and sex tonight. (Sorry for the visual). I am not admitting to whether or not I am going to try all three, let's just say, I will do anything at this point.
There was a lady in the class who was on her second and said that her first was 8 days past the due date. She said she "tried the sex thing" and it was so traumatizing and didn't work. I can see how that is possible. My belly is so huge right now there is no way it can be comfortable for any party involved.
In a way it was good that Olivia waited at least past last night. I did two things that probably got some stares from the other patrons...I went to sushi dinner and then a wine tasting fundraiser party. I had "pregnancy safe" sushi for those who are wondering, but loaded up on the wasabi (hey, like I said, I will try anything...Olivia is probably hating me at this point). Then John and I went to the fundraiser and I had a few sips of wine, but was too chicken to sample anything but sips of what John had. Even though I am due tomorrow... Well, the good thing about last night was we took advantage of being able to go out AND John and I won two raffle prizes. Both of which were rather fitting. I won a personal training session from my triathlon coach, Kate. (I'll be back in shape in no time) and John won some birth announcements (well, any kind of announcements, but, for us, they will be proclamations of Olivia's coming.) (That is, when she decides to get here) (##*@$&($@)