Welcome to the World, James Patrick Ross!

"The Day of the Big Event..."

After three months of bed rest, and 20 mg of Nifedipine every six hours, week 37 finally came.  I could actually, like, go to the store!  And go for a walk with Rux (the world's best dog)!  And refinish my craigslist dressser!  And STOP TAKING THAT MEDICINE!!  Oh, happy day!  So I did all that... and then cooked dinner.  Should have known better... contractions were every five minutes allllll day long.


5:40 --  I read this Pioneer Woman blog:  http://thepioneerwoman.com/blog/2011/12/all-i-wanted-was-a-doughnut/.  I swear, I laughed so hard that it put me into labor. 


5:45 --  While eating and playing rummy with The Hubby:  "Ha ha, take that!  A Jack, Queen, King, Ace -- oooh.  Um... John... I think my water just broke."

The Husband:  "What?! Why are you just sitting there, don't we need to go?"

Me:  "Oh no, this is our first, he won't be born until tomorrow sometime.  Just sit down and finish dinner, and I'll finish packing the bag."

How little did we know. 


5:46 --  The first contraction.  And it hurt a little.  Two more minutes pass, and the next contraction hurt a little worse.  Within ten minutes, I told That Man to "Hurry up, dammit, this hurts like *$%^!"


6:30 --  Checked into a room, changed into a gown, and introduced to Sandra, the worlds best L&D (labor and delivery) nurse. 

Sandra:  "Well, you're already dilated to 4 cm!"

Me: "Great!  I want an epidural now, please."

Sandra:  Silence.  "Right now?  Already?"

Me:  "YES.  You people give them out after 3 cm, and I'm at 4.  I want mine now, please."

She explained that we had to do blood work, and get an IV started, and then I could get my drugs.  Sigh. 


7:15 -- After IV and stadol, I still wanted to kill someone.  As in, for-the-love-of-all-that's-pure-and-holy, get the CRNA NOW!!


7:30 -- I can hear my parents in the hall way being headed off by Sandra.

Mom:  "Is that Catie's room?  I want to see her!"

Sandra:  "Let me check that it's ok."

John:  shakes his head as Sandra pokes hers in the door.

Me:  moaning and crying.

Mom and Dad leave for the waiting room.  Dad, as they're walking away:  "I know the nurse said she was at 5 an hour ago, but I swear she sounds closer to 7 or 8 cm."


8:00 -- That *^#%@$# CRNA still hasn't shown up.  Sandra left the room and muttered under her breath, "I am going to drag him in here by the scruff of his neck..."  My Poor Husband can barely stand to see me hurt so much.  I felt as bad for him as I did for me.  Which was a lot. 

Not to mention I'm nearly hysterical at this point because 1) I hate pain.  2) I never had ANY intention of having this child naturally.  3) I really hate pain.

8:45 -- blissful relief.  FINALLY got the #($&%^# epidural.  Though I still want to kill that CRNA.  Here's why.

CRNA:  "Ok husband, you have to go sit over there.  We've had too many dads faint when they see this."  *Chuckles*

Me: "NO!!  WHO IS GOING TO HOLD MY HAND AND SAY HAIL MARYS?!?!"

Sandra, very quietly: "I'll hold your hand and do whatever you need."

A few minutes later.  CRNA:  "I understand you're a medical student."

Me, through sobs: "Yes."

CRNA:  "Well, we're giving you ropivacaine and fentanyl.  Do you remember what ropivacaine is?"

Me, to myself:  *Is this SOB seriously trying to pimp me in the middle of giving me a %&$^#^@ EPIDURAL in the middle my #*%$&%^ LABOR?!?!* 
Out loud:  "Yes.  It's a local anesthetic.  Fentayl is an opioid."

CRNA:  "Yes, very good.  Do you remember the half life?"

Me:  I glared so hard that fire and nails shot forth from my eyes, bounced off the wall, and hit that #($*&$% right between the eyes.  I received no more questions from that man not pertaining to my pain level. 


9:00 -- Sandra checked me right after the epidural was placed.  We were already at 8 cm.

Sandra:  "Now your contractions may slow down a little, so don't get worried if they do."

Me, looking at the monitor:  "Yeah.  That'll really upset me."

Mom and Dad are allowed in. I'm more composed, and poor John doesn't have to listen to me wailing anymore.


10:30 -- I asked Sandra to come in and check me, because I was feeling a lot more pressure.  Sure enough, we're at 10 cm!


11:00 -- Dr. Lee has checked me too, and gowned and gloved.  We start pushing.  And I mean "we" literally.  The Husband had one leg, my mom had the other, and Becky (my SIL) helped pushed my head forward and my hair back. 

That Child kicked me the ENTIRE time I was pushing.  I'm not kidding.

Mom:  "Um, Catie... most women keep their hands behind their legs, not on top of their stomachs."
Me: "You know what, Pat, why don't you feel right here and then tell me where I should put my hand."
Mom, with her hand at the fundus: "Oh my.  He's kicking like crazy."
Me:  "Yes, I know."

Guess he was just trying to help get here sooner. ;)


11:20 -- James arrives! 

Poor little guy got a tidal wave of amniotic fluid as his head emerged and aspirated.  He had to go to NICU right away (after a kiss and wave good bye from Momma and Daddy). 


"The Recovery..."

2:00 am -- finally get wheeled in to see him in NICU.  Cried myself to sleep because I couldn't hold my baby.  Once again felt very sorry for John, but so glad he was there to hold my hand, and kiss my forehead, and remind me that everything's going to be ok.

Little Man had no trouble with the aspiration, and didn't even need intubation.  But then he wouldn't eat.  Personally, I think it was the formula -- if it makes me gag just to smell it, I can't imagine it tastes good to The Baby.  So he had to be fed with an NG tube... because he kept pulling out the OG tube. Oh, joy.

Finally got to room in with The Baby on day 3, and he was discharged on day 6.  Praise the Lord, that was a wonderful day. 

My Mom has been staying with us since The Baby was born, and I'm so very thankful for the help.  She cooks, she cleans, and she changes diapers -- how much better does that get?  If only she could nurse The Baby, too, so I could sleep longer, life would be perfect.  :) 

The Baby is wonderful and perfect and absolutely beautiful.  He only cries w hen his Mean Old Momma takes FOREVER to feed him -- those 30 seconds to prep to nurse are a killer.  He likes it best when Daddy changes his diaper -- he fusses much less than when Momma or Grandma do.  He's still in that newborn phase of eating and sleeping, so we try to sleep when he does.  Harder than I thought it would be, but we're working it out. 

I'll post pictures later, once The Husband uploads them.  Trust me, they're worth the wait -- he's precious.  ;)

"That's Not Even as Big as a Catfish!"

I have to admit, I was pretty excited when we found out The Baby is a boy.  I grew up with a little brother and only had nephews until after I married The Husband.  Of our 18 nieces and nephews, I've spent more time with two of The Husband's nephews.  They're older, and we lived in the same town for several years, so they spent the night with us a lot.  The Husband and I kinda like them, and so when they want to come visit, we try to make it happen. 

This week they came up for a few days, and it was a nice reminder of how much fun boys can be.  The younger one is more curious about The Baby than his teenage brother, and when he and I are alone, he tends to ask more questions.  He understands that I've been having problems, and have to rest more to keep the baby safe.  So this visit the questions were more along those lines.

The Nephew:  "Aunt Catie, when's the baby's birthday?"
Me:  "Well, you have to be born to have a birthday.  Since he's not born yet, we don't know for sure when it's going to be."

The Nephew:  "Oh.  Well, when is it supposed to be?"

Me:  "The end of January, around the 30th."

The Nephew, with concern:  "Well that's a long time away!  He can't be born anytime soon!"

Me, trying not to smile:  "Well, he's old enough now that it's ok for him to be born anytime.  He'll be ok from here on."

The Nephew:  "Huh.  Well how much does he weigh now?"

Me:  "A little over 5 pounds."

The Nephew, staring hard at my belly:  "How long is he?"

Me, holding out my hands:  "He's about a foot and a half, this long."

The Nephew, again with concern: "He's not very big at all.  That's not even as big as a catfish!"

Me, really trying not to smile: "Not one big enough to eat, huh?"

The Nephew: "No!  He needs to wait longer."

Both boys are so much fun.  Even the teenager.  Their mom doesn't believe us, but they're both really good when they come visit.  Boys in general are still foreign little creatures to me, strange beings who enjoy mud, bugs, being loud, and gross smells.  But they're also a lot of fun, and can be so sweet and caring.  I'm really looking forward to meeting my own.  :)