Baby R's Birth Story

Baby R was born on November 13, 2006.

My pregnancy had been very easy for the most part. I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes, which was really the only bump in the road. Being diagnosed with that was a MAJOR BUMMER. In some ways, I think I didn't really have it, I was just sensitive to the glucose tests. It is pointless to ponder this too much, they said I had it and I dutifully followed the rules.

The rules were simple - eat protein with each meal, stay away from non-whole wheat carbs and lay off the sweets. I can't complain too much - there was one really super-wonderful side effect to following the hideous, bland and so-sad-for-a-pregnant-lady diet - pretty much ZERO weight gain. Oh, the baby gained plenty - I just lost it. I gained 25 pounds - the baby was about 8 and the rest was her lovely home and water weight. I actually weighed less after she was born than before I became I pregnant. So, there was an upside to the gestational diabetes!

Anyway - on to the birth story. Because of the gestational diabetes, I was given a scheduled inducement date, which was Sunday, November 12, 2006 - two days after my actual due date. Because the main concern with gestational diabetes is producing a Large Baby, my doctor wanted to limit that condition as much as possible. I was very on board and my mom booked a flight to be there for the birth.

We checked into the hospital at 7:00 a.m. Sunday morning. It was my mom, me, Mr. Mine and my then 19 year-old brother (that is a whole other story in itself as to why he was there). We settled in and got the IV of fluids going (ugh). Mr. Mine and I ABOUT DIED when the cheerful nurse informed us that most inductions take a very long time and since I was not dilated more than a centimeter, she predicted the birth for 4:00 a.m. THE NEXT MORNING. We were so not expecting to hear anything like that!

The waiting began. My hospital was very nice. You labored in the room you stayed in for the whole blessed event and post-event, unless a c-section was required. Each patient had their own room with a bathroom, tv, fridge, dvd player, TWO fold-out couches and a rocking recliner. Birthing Suite indeed! It was football season and thankfully we had football to entertain us from 8 a.m. till 8 p.m. That really did help.

So, we watched football and every so often the nurse came in and checked my cervix and upped the pictocin and commented how we were going to be there for a loooong time. At some point that early afternoon, they broke my water. Funny, I don't really remember that part, though I know they did it. They also installed the catheter. I was progressing verrrrrry slowly and they kept upping the pictocin. Then things got interesting.

The contractions became pretty darn painful and I decided it was time for the epidural. I am guessing that by now it was about 5 in the evening? Well, it seemed to take some time for the anesthesiologist to arrive. The contractions were HIDEOUS all of a sudden. I wasn't throwing up, but I was shaking like crazy. They had given me a mild painkiller via the IV earlier, but it wasn't doing much. While they were inserting the IV I was in so, so, so much pain. I was having Mr. Mine squeeze my earlobe and pinch the skin in between my pointer finger and thumb to distract me from the pain. It kind of worked. And then they finally finished with the epidural and I could breathe again.

I still was only about 5 centimeters dilated, so we continued to wait and watch football. At least now I could sort of relax. I had to be careful to not lay too flat on the hospital bed or the epidural would creep up and my shoulders would become numb. I told the nurse about this and she wanted to turn the epidural down - uh, NOPE, I will just sit up, thanks!!!!

At 9 p.m. I sent Mr. Mine off to pick up some carby, sugary, very expensive dinner items for me to eat as soon as the baby was born. And wine. Don't forget the wine. There was some panic when it appeared that most of the excellent but snooty tooty restaurants near the hospital closed at 9:00 p.m. on Sunday, but he was able to pull it off. Good thing too, or there would have been a majorly angry pregnant lady to deal with.

Things continued on this way for some time. The gave me an oxygen mask, since my levels were down. I was now pain free and pretty tired and ready for a little snooze. It was quiet and dark and we had some nice tunes playing softly on the Mac. We got word at some point that Blake's cousin's girlfriend had gone into labor a month early and they had a little boy that afternoon. We thought, how fun - our kids could share the same birthday!

Just as I was really starting to enjoy resting the nurse came into check me. The time was about 11:30 p.m. She said "UH OH. She is READY. We need to get Dr. Barrett here NOW." Yipes, What? I was all settled in, ready to rest until 4:00 a.m., like they kept saying how long it would take! And then! Then! they asked me to NOT push, Dr. Barrett was on her way and if I had the baby before she got there, it meant extra paperwork for everyone. UH....are you KIDDING ME?! So, I didn't push. Dr. Barrett arrived and scrubbed in and at approx. 11:50 the pushing began. Mr. Mine held my hand and ran around watching, he was SO EXCITED. He kept saying "I can see her head!" My mom held one leg and a nurse held the other. I pushed only a few times, apparently I am a Champion, A-1 Pusher and she was out at 11:13 a.m. She was pooping as she came out, all 7 pounds, 15 ounces of her. She was beautiful and very healthy.

They did all the post-birth stuff, had me try breastfeeding and then took Baby R off for her bath, etc. I devoured my dinner and enjoyed a glass of wine. By now it was 1:00 a.m. and I was ready to PASS OUT and sleep for, oh, I don't know, DAYS, but they kept bringing Baby R back in! She wanted to be with Mama. And so began my life as R's mom.

Next up: Baby E's Birth Day!

Sni-zow *Old post from 12/23/08*

**Ha! I found this post, sitting there, unpublished! How appropriate, as it is MARCH and we are on SNOW WATCH tonight. WTF?**

Oh LORD! If I don't find a way to get myself out of my SNOW-COVERED neighborhood and get my ass to Target, THERE WILL BE NO CHRISTMAS!!! My girls will get string cheese and jars of baby food in their stockings. My car is covered up to the hood and every time a giant monster truck barrels by, the drifts get taller and taller. I live in Portland, people, NOT THE NORTH POLE.

And yet, my polar bear husband still barbecues, undaunted by the snow.

Socially Inept

I used to be popular - I was a cheerleader and part of the "in crowd", for goodness sake. And then somehow, over the last 15 years (oh lord) something changed. I still am very close to my high school friends, but the majority of them live in California, not in the Pacific Northwest like me. I went to a junior college in my hometown and then I worked in restaurants for a few years. I finally went away to school to finish my bachelor degree just when the rest of my friends were graduating.

My college was brand new and all the students commuted there, as there were no dorms. Not that I would have lived in the dorms anyway - I was too old for that. There was no campus "social life". I guess I should consider myself somewhat lucky I met Mr. Mine in college - not MY college, rather, he went to college with one of my best high school friends and he liked what he saw when I would come to visit her - I never even noticed him (hee hee). After he graduated, he moved to the town where I was going to college (his hometown, incidentally) and we started dating. Otherwise - I might not even be married right now! My friend suggested I email him when I moved there - an email to him was the first I ever sent! I had to create a hotmail account to do it - have I totally dated myself with this revelation?! Anyway - we fell in love and blab, blab, blab....

But I digress....I used to have friends, dress nicely, feel pretty, and have fun outings and conversation with my peers. But not so much now. I have two work friends, THANK GOD, but the weekends are pretty quiet. I like quiet for the most part, so that is okay, but here comes the awkwardness comes in to play.

I have started to chat with a stay-at-home mom, Erin, who lives down the street from us. They have a little boy Max who is R's age (2) and they are just about to have their second baby boy. We have chatted a few times on the street and we stopped by their house the other day. They seem very nice! They even invited us to a birthday party for their son and a set of triplet boys that also live in our neighborhood (and I have NEVER SEEN these triplets). I was brave on Saturday and R and I (Mr. Mine stayed home with Baby E) stopped by the party, which was thrown at our neighborhood Mormon church. We are not Mormon, nor is Max's family, but the triplets are and Mormon community rooms are very kid friendly, of course.

I didn't know anyone, really, besides Erin and Rob, Max's mom and dad. Here is where the social ineptitude comes in. This room was full of about 12 sets of parents and various kids, all playing. I am just SHY and have a hard time introducing myself to people. I talked with Max's mom (who was VERY nice, again), but that is really it. I just felt like a major dork. My pants keep falling down off my hips - they are from before my two babies and now I am thinner, yet have belly flab. My hair air-dried so it was frizzy. My morning had been jam-packed with getting my mother-in-law on her way to the airport. I had my glasses on and no make-up, etc. ect. etc. So R and I just sort of wandered around and I watched her play with the toys, while I felt like an gangly teenager at a middle school dance.

Then I stuck my foot in my mouth and asked the triplet's parents if the babies had just turned one year old. Uh, no...they just turned two, but they are half the size and developmental stage of R, I swear. I was SO EMBARRASSED. Also, I got guacamole all over my shirt in the morning and forgot about it and when I got to the party, I noticed I had food on my fleece and went to take my fleece off and realized I had not changed my guacamole-covered shirt. Sigh.

So - here I was in a room full of people I SHOULD have lots in common with (aside from the Mormon-ness) and be able to talk to, but yet I felt like only LAME things came out of my mouth and I was acting like a dork with food on my clothes and unbrushed hair (R was looking fantastic, though, as always - people are probably SHOCKED she belongs to me). It just depresses me. The whole concept of I want to make friends, but that involves Making An Effort in so many ways - trying to look presentable, managing my weekend time to get myself and the girls, if it is child centered, out of the house on time, making conversation, trying not say awkward or weird things, which I feel like I do, and just on and on and on.....

But, I guess I need to start making that effort, before my social skills atrophy to the Point of No Return and, after the girls move out, Mr. Mine and I turn into dog show fanatics or something.....

Grump....

1. Mr. Mine is on a business trip in Chicago - in a very nice hotel room and about to go out to a VERY fancy dinner with his coworkers. I am cooking a pot roast that I am pretty sure is NOT going to be good and won't even get to eat it in peace until 7:30 - after I have put the girls down for the evening. And between now and then is the whole bedtime PROCESS.

2. There are fruit flies EVERYWHERE in my kitchen! YUCK! Gross! Make them STOP!

3. I took the girls to the park today since it was sunny and I ended up with a SUNBURNED FACE. In November. I look like a lobster.

Yipee.

Overheard

While shopping at Ross looking for a deal on shoes for R, I overheard this (LOUD) exchange between a young lady of about 23-ish years old and her Grandma and Mother: "Grandma, you know what I'm getting those bitches this year? Nothing!!!!"

Nice.

I am such an old lady.

Mr. Mine is gone on a business trip for six nights. This means I am on solo duty for child dressing/feeding/delivering to daycare, working 8 hours and then reversing the daycare, dressing, etc. Tiring, yes, but now it is 8:30 and they both are asleep and the house is clean and.....I want to go to bed. I can't go to bed at 8:30!!!! What the heck?!?! But it is so quiet and peaceful and dark outside. I WANT to sleep. My bed is calling to me softly....just climb in and rest your eyes...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Tagged! 6 Random things about me.

Mandy over at First you make a Roux tagged her readers with this one...It sounded fun and like I could do it in under 5 minutes. Mr. Mine is gone on business and this is Night One of SIX nights away...and it was already a humdinger of a night. Anyhoo....

1. I like to eat Bob's Big Boy Seasoning Salt PLAIN, with sips of Coke. I AM WIERD, I KNOW. I also do this in secret and only MAYBE three times a year. Mr. Mine has no idea I do that.

2. I took ballet, tap and jazz for 6 years when I was a child. I was never the best one in the class, but I liked it - I liked the performances twice a year the most. In 8th grade I had reached the point (and I was in pointe shoes - the holy grail of ballet school) where you go big or go home - dance class every night a week, sometimes twice a night, etc. I tried out for cheerleading in high school and made the squad. My ballet school turned their nose up at cheerleading and said basically, "us or them". I chose cheerleading. The random thing about all this is that it wasn't until my LAST six months of dance class that "something clicked" - All of a sudden I TRULY enjoyed moving my body through the poses and the dances. It was such a moment of clarity. I wonder why on earth it took so long for me to feel that way - did the other girls feel like that from the start?

3. I was a baby cheetah stalker. I volunteered at the San Diego Wild Animal Park when I was in college. There was a baby cheetah in the animal nursery that had been abandoned by her mother. Her name was Jamoke. I swear, I checked in on that cheetah WEEKLY and I must have 200 digital pictures of her. God, I wanted to pet her.

4. I drove a '68 Mustang in high school. It was my mom's old car and a BEATER by the time I had it. But, MAN, did I love gunning around town in that thing! My little brother inherited it 10 years after I had been driving it and promptly drove it into someone's front porch.

5. I was a medical oddity for about 10 minutes. My eye doctor found some strange speck deep in my eyeball and ran all kinds of tests on it and showed all his buddies. It turns out it was nothing, but it was fun having all the doctors nerd out over it.

6. When I have driven myself somewhere once, I can ALMOST always find my way back to and from it perfectly. But if you asked me to TELL YOU how to get there - there is NO WAY I can do it. I have lived at my house for 4 years and I STILL can't seem to give people the proper directions. And my house is literally three turns and a couple stoplights from a major interstate.

There....that was fun, thanks Mandy!