"If we ever forget that we're one nation under God, then we will be a nation gone under." - Ronald Reagan

Saturday, December 13, 2008

The Second Time Around

Since the last one was about Boo, let's talk about the Boy!

While his was certainly the most active pregnancy, the delivery was the easiest. In fact, if your doctor will let you schedule a c-section, I highly recommend it.

This time around, I didn't have to have my cervix checked at all those baby appointments. That, in and of itself, is worthwhile. Then we just picked the date. The scheduling nurse and I had a discussion that went something like this:

Nurse: How about the 11th?
Me: Um...my mother-in-law doesn't arrive until the 15th so can we make it for the following Monday?
Nurse (after looking at my large belly): I think you'll go into labor before that.
Me: Yeah, not gonna happen. So the 18th, then?

Of course, I was the first surgery of the day which meant I had to be at the hospital by 5 am. Something you might have missed in all my other whining posts...I am not a morning person. And I get anxiety attacks over the simplest things. So Sunday night, I have my "last meal" which consisted of chocolate cake and chocolate milk, I proceed to have a very restless night. I couldn't get to sleep. When I finally did doze off, I'd jerk awake, thinking for sure that I missed the alarm and we would be horribly late. I finally gave up just before 4 am and got up to get ready. I wasn't supposed to eat that morning but honestly, I was so nervous/hyper/sleep deprived that I don't think I could have eaten anything.

I was under the misconception that I had a morphine sensitivity so they gave me a spinal tap instead. Not fun. It made my nose itch so bad, I felt like I was going to rub it off. Surgery went great. I was even joking with the staff about the name, since we hadn't settled on one for the Boy. My doctor was telling the stories about all of his siblings' names, all of which seemed to find themselves born on a holiday and then had a name that reflected that.

Then came the moment of truth.

Me: What does he look like?
The Man: Actually...he looks just like your dad.
Me: No way! Let me see.
(The Man shows me)
Me: Dude...he does look just like my dad!

This is probably the only time any family member who looked like my dad had less hair than my dad.

The nursery was super busy that day, with babies arriving all over the place. The Man got to stay with the Boy while I was rolled to recovery, and then to my hospital room. And the whole time, the Boy was kinda scooted over in a corner while the nurses worked with the sick babies. Finally, the Man stops a nurse and asks if they could please give his son a quick bath so he could take the baby to see his mother. When I finally got to see him, I wasn't exactly fully awake. In fact, I kept falling asleep in mid-conversation. Rather embarrassing.

My mother-in-law brought da Boo to the hospital so she could see her brother. She carefully held him as she sat on the little couch. What did she think? we asked her.


"He's cute," she said followed quickly by "he smells funny."

Indeed he does, Boo. Indeed he does.

4 comments:

Popcorn House said...

So funny! What a great story. I need to write all my birth stories sometime on our blog so we have them in our blog book.

You are such a great writer. I always laugh when I read your blog. So fun that we can get a glimpse into your life!

Amanda said...

hee, hee.....What a sweet picture:)

Kristin said...

What a sweet pic.

Emma said...

That is a cute picture. Poor Boy smelling funny from the very beginning.

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