for the lack of posting.. but even though it is not technically Monday, here is your dog blog monday update, and it comes with another update as well…
This photo is from October 20 – the night before I stared feeling contractions, and even though I was convinced it was a false alarm (it was still 3 weeks till my due date) I really wanted to make sure I got this photo before I lost the belly. Also, for those of you who were wondering, yes Bo is naturally that sweet and attentive to my belly, and no, peanut butter was not involved in the taking of this photo, why do you ask?
ANYHOW, good thing we did because this was the real deal buckaroo, this camper was no longer happy kicking me in the lungs and carving profane words in the walls of my uterus. And so I present for your consideration:
Sebastian’s Birth Story
just the highlights, minus the boring gross stuff
(now with 90% less crotch shots!)
First off, some things you should know about me. I am terrified of needles. Some things you should not be scared of if you are going to have a hospital birth: needles. and ice chips. but mostly needles.
This is me with my IV
And there is this bacteria that a lot of women have, and it wouldn’t really affect you, but it could cause complications with the baby if you have it. So they give you antibiotics and boom, done, it’s ok for you, ok for the baby. But you would think they would want to test for this maybe I don’t know, before you are 37 weeks pregnant, since technically that is full term. But no, my test was scheduled for Thursday Oct 22 and, if you’ll remember, I went to the hospital Tuesday, Oct 20, so just to be safe we worked under the assumption that I did have it. EVEN THOUGH I PROBABLY DID NOT. Which meant that I got not one, not two, but FIVE bags of penicillin through that IV. Does penicillin burn, you may ask… why, yes. yes, it does.
Moving on, another thing you may remember about me is that I really like food. If I were a dog and you were Cesar Milan, you would say I am extremely food motivated. What? Jump in front of that car? No way…that would be stupid… wait, are those snausages in it for me? done.
BUT they won’t let you eat when you are in labor. I know this doesn’t seem like a big deal, except my labor lasted 24 hours, folks. That’s 24 hours. like an entire season of the hit show, 24, which in fact, I could have watched on the dvd player in the room if i wanted to hate my life even more.
Also everyone who meant well and dropped off food for Patrick, I hate you. Because do you know what is worse than being 18 hours into labor and smelling Jimmy Johns which you cannot eat? I don’t know, I’m seriously asking, what is worse than that?
On the plus side, I’m pretty sure my doctor was Alan Tudyk. Compare this photo of Alan Tudyk:
With this photo of the doctor who delivered me:
Coincidence? I think not. I mean now that Firefly is off the air and I haven’t seen him in Dollhouse lately, the man has to make a living. right? right? Please don’t disillusion me on this one, it was the highlight of my birthing experience (minus of course the end result).
So the FACT that Alan Tudyk delivered me makes it all the more embarrassing that during the part where I was pushing (for 90 minutes), I was obsessed with the idea that the pressure was going to pop out one of my eyeballs. I know it’s not totally rational, but just imagine that you have gone 24 hours without food, have a killer head cold and then are constipated. That is a little what it felt like, maybe.
Anyways, this is a direct quote, me: Are my eyes going to pop out of my head?
Alan: No, that won’t happen
Me: Do you promise?
Alan: Yes. …
and then there was a kind of awkward silence, where I might have asked again. And it might be more acceptable except I really hadn’t taken any drugs besides the epidural, which really isn’t supposed to make you loopy. Nope, that was all me. I also told the nurse my leg felt like a giant overstuffed sausage, which actually didn’t make her skip a beat, she just started telling me about this great place in Naperville to buy bratwurst. +2 for her. Oh, and -2 for the nurse who was checking my cervix (which some people apparently don’t mind, but I find really really uncomfortable…. I was going to make a comparison here, but Patrick says it is inappropriate. and if Patrick says it…) AND SHE ANSWERED HER PHONE. So one hand is in my business and the other is talking on the phone. Seriously, lady, pick one or the other.
Also, whenever someone told me I was doing a good job, I apparently made the joke “Oh, it’s nothing, you’re the one doing all the work.” Which, ok, not my best work, but possibly could have been overlooked if I hadn’t said it over and over again, and then laughed like it was the funniest thing possible. Let’s just say I might not be welcome at this hospital any more.
The best things in life always make an entrance, so even if he was a little turtle, totally worth it for our little Mr. Man, who by the way, weighed 7lbs 14oz… 3 WEEKS EARLY. OMG am I glad I didn’t go full term.
Introducing Falcor Sebastian Patrick:
He is the sweetest little baby imaginable. I’m pretty sure the little hell minion I was supposed to get got switched up in the uterus relocation line and I accidentally got the saint baby that was supposed to go to someone far nicer than me. shh… I’m not going to say anything.
He’s only one week old and even though he was almost 8lbs, all of his 0-3 month clothes are giant on him. It’s pretty adorable actually. This was supposed to be his coming home from the hospital outfit, with the little teddy bear ears (Oh god, please tell me I didn’t turn my child into a future furry of america), but as you can see, he still has some growing to do.
And as for me, I am recovering really well. The day after I gave birth I was all, look at me, I can stand up and take a shower all by myself! And then I felt so good I decided to walk to the nursery to get the little man, all by myself! And then I saw the pediatrician and was talking to him (all by myself) and then I started to black out so he had to grab a wheelchair and wheel me back to the room. Which, btw, is a great trick to play on your husband, getting wheeled into the room in a wheelchair. He will likely freak out.
And I’m not going to tell you all the horrible details, but allow me to reference the part in the Vagina Monologues where they talk about what their vaginas would wear out on the town. And I’ll just say my vagina, would have to dress up as Sally from the Nightmare Before Christmas. Too vague? I have a million stitches holding my lady parts together and it hurts. BUT totally worth it for this little monster:
OH and PS – I DID NOT POOP THE BED! I had two witnesses corroborate this story, and it’s not like I was even thinking or trying but I didn’t, I am the 3% who didn’t. Booyah.