Birth Story Revisited.

I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, 12 weeks to be exact. When we got home from the hospital our lives were just a whirlwind. It was all I could do to put one blog out there about the event, however, it wasn’t nearly detailed enough… for me. You see, Leah is only three months old, but already in those three months I can feel things slipping my mind. Little details that I never want to forget. I want to remember everything about that experience; after all, I only get it once. I may get another birth story in my lifetime (hopefully), but I know for a fact I won’t get another Leah birth story. Some of this I have mentioned before, and some of it several times. But never in order, and I know for a fact there is a lot I have never mentioned. So without further ado:

July 5, 2011.

Due date doctor’s appointment. Nerves were flying high that day for sure. While still enjoying being pregnant, I was absolutely miserable that Leah had not decided to come out yet. I thought for sure she would be early, I suppose that’s what I get for thinking. Leah and I had some tests to go through, and above all else, I just wanted her to be healthy. I went into this doctor’s appointment adamant about not being induced. I don’t know why – in all of my “not caring about a birth plan” for some reason, inducing was the only thing I really cared about, and I knew I didn’t want it. I wanted so badly to have the moment when either my water broke or I knew the contractions were for real. I was so excited to experience that. The first test we had was an ultra sound to confirm that Leah still had enough amniotic fluid. I was so excited to see her again. When things got going, I quickly realized this was not at all like the first ultra sound we had. In the first ultra sound, I could see all of her cute little body on the screen. In this ultra sound, I could see a leg. Or an arm. Or half of her face. She had definitely gotten bigger. I remember seeing her cute little cheeks and just wanting to cry I wanted her so badly. We could see her hair floating around, her leg kick me, and her heart going as fast as ever. It was so refreshing to get a peak of her. If she wasn’t going to come anytime soon, this was the next best thing. The ultra sound tech quickly let us know that although she takes measurements, it’s not something the doctor is concerned with, therefore, they don’t really discuss it. But curiosity got the best of me, as always, and I asked for fun. While she told me they don’t measure length at all, she let me know that give or take a pound, Leah was measuring 8lbs 11oz. My mouth wanted to drop to the floor. 8, 11 is big… 9, 11… um. That just might kill me. I was left with that thought as she turned the machine off, gave us some pictures, and sent us to test number two.

This was Leah’s non-stress test. The doctor wanted to make sure that if she wasn’t coming out, that at least she was happy, healthy, and having a normal heartbeat with each movement. I got hooked up, and reclined back. Kyle whipped out a Dr. Seuss book from the basket below his chair. Listening to the heartbeat was always my favorite part of the doctor’s appointments (duh), so getting to hear it for thirty straight minutes was Heaven on Earth. I’m pretty sure I just laid there with a ridiculous smile on my face. It was fun to feel her move, and hear her heartbeat sky rocket. Then have her be still, and hear it lower. She was like a real person in there. And I again got a little mad at her for not wanting to come out. The thirty minutes went by way too quickly, and we were onto stop three. The actual doctor’s appointment.

First things first – is she making her way out? Nope. She hadn’t budged a centimeter since the first week I got checked. I wanted to cry. I thought for sure something would have happened. After all, I walked more than I ever had in my life, ate all the pineapple I could find, rolled on the ball, and did squats like I was some sort of fitness freak. All of that was for not, Leah hadn’t moved. And then the doctor told us that she had spoken to the ultra sound tech, and although Leah was perfectly safe in the perfect amount of amniotic fluid… she was told of her size. So I guess they warn the doctor of the big babies. She let us know that she was a little concerned that Leah was possibly nearing nine pounds, and seemed to have no intention of coming out. And then she did it, she said the word induction. And do you know what? The second she said it, I knew that’s what I wanted. Nine pounds was a little scary to me as well, I’ve got to be honest. She gave us both sides, pros and cons, let us choose, and made sure to tell me I did not have to have an induction if I didn’t want to. All I wanted in that moment was her advice, and Kyle’s opinion. She was the doctor, and I completely trusted her. I also learned throughout the nine months of dealing with her that she is not quick to jump at anything. She likes things to happen naturally. Knowing that made me trust her more, I knew she wasn’t doing this for convenience or personal reasons. I honestly believed she had the best interest of Leah and myself in mind. Her advice was to have the induction, and then I turned to Kyle. Sure, it was basically my decision, but he was a huge part of the whole process and I wanted his opinion. If he would have said wait, I wouldn’t have thought twice about waiting. But he didn’t. He trusted the doctor as well, and basically left the decision up to the two of us. Decision reached: Induction at 6pm.

The hour and a half between the doctor’s office and hospital check in wasn’t at all what I would have imagined. If you had told me earlier in the pregnancy that I would get to be surprised with being sent to the hospital I would have been so excited. But for some reason, I wasn’t excited. I was terrified. I didn’t second guess my opinion; I just had no time to prepare for everything coming our way. I was in tears by the time we got to the parking lot, but held it together to call my mom and sister. I didn’t want them to think I was scared. I wanted so badly to be excited, but I just couldn’t get there. I was worried for Leah. I knew that risks are higher with inductions, and I just wanted her to be safe. I felt selfish. I felt like I was somehow rushing the process, and I would regret it. But even with those thoughts, I still felt like inducing was the right decision for us. My emotions were all over the place. By the time we got home, I was getting excited. I had stopped crying, and although I was still completely overwhelmed, I was starting to smile. I was actually going to see her soon! No more waiting, no more wondering; she was coming!

By the time we checked into the hospital I was excited, and ready. We had a meal at steak and shake a prayer in the car, and now it was go time. No more hiding Leah bug, they’re going to evict you. My biggest worry throughout this whole process (besides the obvious health/safety) was getting a mean nurse. I just knew if I had a bad nurse I would be miserable. And what do you know the first nurse that we dealt with wasn’t a real gem. Sure, she was civil, and she wasn’t mean, but she wasn’t “nice.” I tried to stay upbeat, but I just wanted to cry already. She was just kind of rough around the edges, and with my emotions going crazy as it was, I needed a nurse to put me at ease. (Remember her for later). Thankfully, we checked in at 6, and the first shift change in nurses was at 7. The next nurse we got was much more pleasant. She joked with us, and I was much more comforted by her. She seemed to get the fact that I was new at this process, something I never got with the other nurse. We didn’t have to see a lot of her though, as most of this night was spent sleeping… or trying to sleep. I just couldn’t get there. For one, there was an IV in my hand the size of a nail. And it hurt so.bad. Secondly, I was hooked up to a heart monitor for Leah. How was I supposed to sleep on my side with cords coming out of everywhere. And if comfort wasn’t a big enough deal, the fact that in the morning they would start the actual contractions was enough to send my mind into a tailspin. Try as I did, there was no sleep for me. I was offered an Ambien at the beginning of the night, but I declined. Why, why did I say no?! I know why – because I’m stubborn and I don’t like help. I don’t like help from people, and I don’t like help from medicine. I should really be seen by some sort of psychiatrist. But alas, 3am came and my nurse came back to check on me - where is that pill nurse, where is that pill?! I admitted defeat and took the Ambien with a big fat smile on my face. This nice nurse also checked on poor Kyle who was absolutely freezing. I was still very much in the hot phase, and the hospital room was no different. But, she rescued him, too. She went to get him three big blankets fresh out of the warmer! Not only did she get him blankets, she had him lie down and she tucked him in. Needless to say, we both fell asleep with big fat smiles on our faces.

July 6, 2011.

Here it was! Here was the day Leah would come. I recited her birthday over and over again in my mind. July 6^th, July 6^th, July 6^th. It had a nice ring to it. Even with four hours of sleep (they woke me up at 7), I was alert and ready to start the day. They started the Pitocin. Right after that, we had another nurse change. Now we’re talking with the nurses – this one was even better with the last! She was so friendly, and funny, and motherly. All the qualities I look for in a nurse. Thank you, Jesus. It was going to be a good day. It took a while, but several hours into it I started feeling some contractions. And they started asking me on a scale of 1 to 10 what my level of pain was. This quickly turned into the most frustrating part of the entire labor process. I had nothing to compare it to. I had no idea what the “bad” contractions were supposed to feel like. So when they asked I said 6? I finally got frustrated enough and asked my nurse, “okay, what’s a 10 supposed to feel like.” She described it as a rusty knife carving out my insides. Okay. Now, I’ve never been cut with a rusty knife, but I’ve been cut with a knife – and it didn’t feel good. I quickly changed my answer to a 2. They checked me for progress for the first time around 11. I knew for a fact I was progressing. I was sure I was a 3 or 4. I was so excited to hear them say it though. But that was not at all what I heard. One. Really, one? That’s it? But I’m having contractions. I was a little discouraged, but still excited. As the day wore on, I found myself getting hungrier and hungrier. I hadn’t eaten since my steak and shake. My nurse was quick to tell me I would know when I was in active labor, because I wouldn’t be hungry. Okay, okay, I’m not hungry! I’m so full. I don’t want any food. Ever. But I couldn’t fake it… I was starving. Crap. They checked me again around 2. Obviously, something had changed. There’s no way it couldn’t have. Tell me the good word, nurse. One. What? Seriously? Okay, now I was getting discouraged. How is nothing happening? I’ve never wanted to feel pain so badly in my life. I was getting so anxious. But I remained calm on the outside. Inside I was dying. C’mon, Leah – help me out! I can’t do this by myself. Another hour went by, and I couldn’t take the hunger. I ordered some broth. It tasted so good. It was a nice change from the popsicles and jello. But unfortunately, it came right back up. I didn’t even finish it before I was yelling at Kyle to get me a trash can. What a bust.

I got checked again a little while later. I remember telling the nurse that I was a nine, she didn’t have to check. She laughed. Checked. One. WHAT? What is going on? Why can’t I do this?! I was feeling completely discouraged, and defeated. Why can I not get this child out of me? What is she doing? And I had a breakdown. I didn’t want anyone to see, but my nurse caught me. But being the motherly figure that she was, she gave me a sweet little talk about how “these things take time,” “you’re doing great,” “just be patient.” And it actually worked, by the time she left I was calm again. For a little while, then it all crept back in my mind. Something must be wrong with me. Kyle was comforting me as best he could, but for some reason it wasn’t having the same effect. After a little more crying, I finally snapped myself out of it. You can do this, she will come. She has to come. Before I knew it seven o’clock rolled around, and another nurse change was upon us. The nurse I had during the day was one of the charge nurses, and she told me she would hand pick the next one for me, so I was feeling pretty good about things. And she picked a perfect one. This one was funny and sarcastic. We were a good pair. I was pretty upbeat, and then she checked me. One. I was absolutely speechless. I spent the entire day at a one. I was starving, I was exhausted, and I couldn’t fake it anymore. I cried my eyes out. She saw me, but instead of comforting me like my previous nurse, she started talking about us maybe going home and trying again later. Complete panic set it. Don’t you dare send me home! I am not leaving this hospital without Leah in my arms. She was still very nice about it, but just let us know that sometimes going home is the better option. I knew it was not the better option for me. She called my doctor, and my doctor gave us the option of stopping the Pitocin for the night and starting fresh in the morning. That made sense to me, and it was a much better option than going home! They would let me eat, take my IV out, let me shower, and give me another Ambien! Yes. Please. Feeling like tomorrow would be a better day, I drifted into a deep sleep.

July 7, 2011.

I woke up with absolutely no expectations for this day. I told myself Leah would not come. I told myself I would stay at a one all day. I told myself maybe she would be here by the weekend. I couldn’t let myself have an ounce of optimism or I would risk another gigantic meltdown. And at this point, I was still a little scared they would send me home. The nurse change came at seven, and I was excited to get another great nurse. But who walks in? The nurse from the first night! Aw, crap. I can’t go through this with her. But she seemed to be much friendlier today. I realized that I met her at the end of her shift the other night, and perhaps she was just tired. I decided to erase my previous judgment of her, and start fresh. She wasn’t motherly, or nurturing – but she was nice and actually pretty funny. I was starting to like her. She seemed strong, and something about that put me at ease. And in a few hours, her strength would prove to be the only thing I needed in a nurse.

They started the Pitocin again, and I made sure to not get excited. But things felt different than yesterday early on. I could feel my contractions getting stronger, and despite my efforts, I felt myself getting excited. They came into check around 10. What do you know? One. Are you freaking kidding me? Thankfully, I set myself up for a one, so I avoided a meltdown. It was becoming a really obnoxious joke at this point. They let me know they wanted to break my water, but needed to wait until I was a two at least. C’mon, Leah. HELP YOUR MOTHER. Another hour passed, and nothing. Apparently, everyone was getting desperate, because in walked the on call doctor to break my water when I was still a one. Talk about weird. I felt like I was peeing my pants for the rest of the day. Fun times. Luckily, I didn’t have much time to think about the wetness, because the contractions immediately started to pick up pace… and intensity. From the beginning, my nurses said that I wouldn’t be able to talk through the real ones, I wouldn’t be able to move, and of course I wouldn’t be hungry. About an hour after they broke my water I started losing my ability to talk during contractions. My mom and sister, whom I chatted it up with the day before were now no longer welcome in the labor room. I was downright uncomfortable. I needed Kyle at my bedside, and I needed his hand to squeeze. I lost my words, and gained some serious moaning. I kept thinking about that dumb pain chart. Is this the rusty knife? I couldn’t tell, but I knew I wasn’t a two anymore. I settled on a six. For real this time. They checked me again… ONE. WHAT?! Although, this time I didn’t care – I was in too much pain. It was now noon, which meant I had been in the hospital for 42 hours and had made absolutely zero progress. If the contractions didn’t hurt so bad, I would probably have thrown a fit, but there was no time. They were coming faster and getting stronger. I needed something. She let me know they couldn’t do an epidural until I was a 2, preferably a 3, but I could have stadol.

Oh, stadol. That’s a fun little drug. I blogged about it before, so I won’t spend too much time on it. Basically it’s just a huge relaxer. Things were spinning, and while I was aware that I was still in labor I had no idea where I was, who I was, or who I was with. I hallucinated that I was at our house, by the kitchen sink. My parents dog, Bella was there. I could feel the pain, but I didn’t care. And I couldn’t open my eyes. I still squeezed Kyle’s hand, but I really had no awareness that he was there. The fun didn’t last long though. Before I knew it, the room stopped spinning, I was back in the hospital bed, Bella was gone, and I was all too aware of what was going on. Something serious was happening in my midsection, and I needed help! I asked, begged, for an epidural – but of course they had to check. I was fully prepared for a one, but what did I get? TWO! Thank God, 43 hours later and I made it one friggin centimeter! Epidural here we come. My nurse told me she would put the call in right away, and that they would be here shortly. I was able to get through the pain knowing that help was on its way.

What seemed like an eternity later, the nice people with the drugs showed up. By this point, things were even worse. Rusty knife? I still was scared to make that commitment, but I upgraded myself to an eight. I couldn’t talk, and I couldn’t move. All I could do was moan, and squeeze the side of the bed… except not! The nurse wouldn’t let me squeeze things! She said I needed to be relaxed! Oh, lady, you have no idea what I’m going through here… let me squeeze the stinkin bed! But she was a stickler, she actually pried my hand from the bed. So to get the epidural, I had to sit up. I had no idea how I was going to do this. Luckily, I think my nurse had been through it before. She pulled me up, and then held me up. Kyle was at the end of the bed, and as much as I wanted him… I needed her. I needed her strength, and her no nonsense attitude. And as much as I liked the motherly nurses, they would have been of no benefit to me now. I remember thinking as she pried my hands from grabbing her wrist involuntarily, and putting my head to her chest to brace myself, that she was exactly who I needed in this moment. Everything about her – and I loved that neither one of us cared that my face was completely smooshed in her boobs. Ha.

The only thing getting me through this ridiculous process was knowing that in a few minutes I would have relief! Sweet relief. I was already wondering what it would feel like?! I could not wait. The lady doing it said it was all in, and although I was happy, I felt no different. Maybe it just takes a minute? My nurse laid me back down. Still nothing. I remember them all looking at me and I moaned and started to cry through the next contraction. She asked if I felt any different, and I was terrified as I said “no.” What did that mean? Was it not working? Did it just take longer? Would I not be able to have an epidural? Panic set in. They let me go a couple more minutes before breaking the news that it must not have took. I didn’t even know what to think at that point. Had I not been in the worst pain of my life, I might have been mad. But I didn’t know what I was. I was frustrated, and exhausted, and in PAIN. She gave me the option to try it again. Of course I said yes. What was my other option? So that started the long process of taking the first one out, and starting all over again. I had to sit up again, my face plastered to my nurses boobs. I remember glancing outside for a second and seeing that it was storming. And I actually remember thinking to myself, “aww man, I’m missing the storm!” I love to storm watch. Luckily, another contraction came to snap me out of it. They were practically on top of each other now, and worse than ever. After another eternity of her fiddling around with my back, she let me know take number two was in. After about 30 seconds, and everyone staring at me, things started to feel eerily like the first time. I was getting no relief, and this time I knew something wasn’t working. It was at that point that I realized…

RUSTY KNIFE! Rusty knife, rusty knife, rusty knife!

I didn’t know what I was going to do. I knew I wasn’t going to survive though. There was no way I was living through this without an epidural. I started in with vocalizing my fears. I told my nurse that I couldn’t do it. I was crying. I was begging for a c-section. At this point, my big, strong nurse was mad. Not at me, at the lady with the drugs. And I liked it. She laid me down, and left to call the head of anesthesia. She came back in and told me she told them they needed to get up to my room immediately. Unfortunately, their immediately took about twenty minutes. And twenty minutes of non-stop contractions might as well have been 17 hours.  But finally she made it. She offered to give it a try herself. I remember asking her what would happen if it didn’t work this time? She started to tell me, and then I said, “nevermind.” I was absolutely terrified to learn the answer. I let her do her thing, meanwhile thinking that I was going to have to do this naturally. A few minutes later she told me it was in. I waited, terrified. But then something changed!! I felt a contraction, but it wasn’t near the caliber of what I had been dealing with! My nurse asked me if I felt any different and I was able to say YES! It wasn’t great, but I knew we were headed in the right direction. My nurse laid me back down, and I got a glimpse of Kyle wiping a tear from his eye. Poor guy, I forgot all about him. He was just standing there watching the whole thing, completely helpless. But once I got settled back in the bed, I noticed them all staring at me. I didn’t know why. I saw Kyle look at me, and look at the monitor. Look at me, and look at the monitor. I told the nurse I felt a lot of pressure. She said, “good, you just had a contraction.” HALLELUJAH! IT WORKED! Sweet, sweet relief.

(Kyle later told me that the first girl who tried putting the epidural in had really shaky hands. That’s nice, exactly what you want with a giant needle around your spine).

With the epidural in and working, things started looking up. First things first, I got checked yet again. After everything I had been through, I was caring less and less about my centimeters, just get her out already! I had a feeling I was a five. I figured I was a one four hours ago, and had some serious contractions, surely that got me four more centimeters, right? WRONG! It got me EIGHT more centimeters! I was a nine. I couldn’t believe it. And after realizing that I felt every single one of those centimeters, I was very proud of myself. Although, I really had nothing to be proud of – it wasn’t like I chose to have a natural labor. I was begging for the epidural at a two. But like it or not, I did it, and I lived to tell about it. I remember telling my nurse that if that last epidural hadn't worked I was going to ask for a c-section. With a smirk on her face she told me that I did... several times... whoops. After I got my bearings back, and the nice lady with the drugs left, and my nurse left things returned to semi-normal. I invited my mom back in, and I would have invited my sister back in but she was stuck somewhere in that storm. Man, it was bad enough for people to be stranded and I was missing it. I was so bummed. But I had my nine centimeters to keep me happy. Before I knew it, yet another nurse change was upon us. I was kind of sad to see my nurse leave, we had been through a lot together. She yelled at me for not having Leah while she was there, I apologized, and with that I got two new nurses.

Two. Something big must be happening. They informed me that they had called the doctor and she was about thirty minutes away… the storm was slowing her down. Her thirty minutes turned into an hour, and without Kyle and I realizing it – I had started pushing. You might think we would have picked up on that, but we were clueless. You see, there wasn’t that, “are you ready to have this baby” moment you see on the movies. There wasn’t some big declaration of “it’s time to push.” It all happened like this: They repeatedly checked me for about an hour and a half, finally I made it to a ten. Ten means push. But they didn’t say that, they just said, “let’s try to push and see what happens?” So I assumed the position, but apparently it still didn’t register with Kyle or myself. I was thinking it was like a practice round, but thank God for Kyle. He finally asked, “so are we doin’ this? This is the real thing?” The nurse responded, “yes.” And I think Kyle and I both said a silent, “holy crap.” We should really pay attention more. Within a minute of him asking that question, and one more round of pushing, all eyes turned to Kyle. Who was ghost white, and looking like we might lose him at any moment. I asked him if he was okay, and he said yes, but he was definitely not okay. The nurses knew that, too. They brought him a chair, and a cool washcloth to put on his head. “Hey buddy, I’m doin’ all the work here, where’s my washcloth?” Finally, after he got himself together we were off to the races again. I pushed, and pushed, and pushed, and then pushed one more time. I was scared to ask, but I could just tell nothing was happening. These nurses we’re both great as well, funny and encouraging. Before I knew it an hour had passed. They finally started talking to each other, and all I heard was, “she hasn’t moved.” The “she” being my daughter, who continued to fight this entire process tooth and nail. Leah, give your mother a break. I just want to see you, is that so bad?

Then they said it, C-Section. They explained that Leah was big, and my pelvis was small, and there was probably no way I was getting her out. I was pushing great, and probably normally would have been able to get a baby out – but not this baby. Of course not this baby, she is the most difficult baby on the face of the planet. I started thinking, and laughing to myself that no amount of walking, no amount of drug induced contractions, and no amount of pushing were getting Leah out. She really did have a mind of her own. And oh my, what would she be like when she actually got her? Was this what I would be up against my whole life?! You might think I would start doubting my decision to induce, and that I might have thought I should have let her go naturally. And I did think that for a split second, but then the fact that nothing was working actually confirmed my decision. I think she still would be in there if I would have let her. She was not coming out, they were going to have to literally pry her little (big) body away from mine.

  

They told me my doctor would have the final say, but there recommendation was to have a c-section. Speaking of my doctor, where in the world was she? It was almost nine o’clock! Finally, she appeared. She explained that c-section was probably the way to go. Fine, do it, I don’t care. Get this child out of me. I wasn’t at all nervous, I wasn’t at all sad, I wasn’t at all concerned… I was ready. The only thing that disappointed me was the fact that they didn’t do it earlier. I had to go through two straight days of Pitocin, three epidurals, and an hour of pushing. They couldn’t have suggested this earlier? But oh well, there was no way I was going to get hung up on that. There was no time, even if I wanted to. Once I agreed, like I had a choice, things picked up pace. There were people with forms to sign, people messing with my IV, an anesthesiologist came to talk to me, someone came and gave Kyle his scrubs, and before I knew it was I being wheeled away.

Ahhh, the operating room. There was no way Leah could hide from us now. Her time was officially up. I was so over the entire process, I was physically and mentally exhausted. Like I had never been before in my life. I was a little nervous, but only because I was scared I would somehow feel pain.( I’m not sure why, my epidural went in so easily the first time…). They were asking me if I could feel them poking and prodding, and I could not, so I guess that was a good sign. Finally, Kyle came in. And the pulling started. I couldn’t feel pain, but I could definitely feel pulling and jerking and pressure. It was so bizarre. I actually tried not to think about it. It’s very weird to be awake and knowing someone is cutting you open, and if I let myself think about it I knew I would have had some sort of panic attack. Kyle and I just talked. I have no idea about what, but I know it wasn’t about them pulling a baby out of me. It only took about five minutes, and the doctor behind my head (there was one at every angle) told Kyle to get the camera. Oh man, this was it! She was coming! I didn’t even know what to do – not like I could do much. So I laid there… and smiled. She was finally, finally going to come out and see us. Before I knew it I heard her wail! Oh my goodness, I don’t even know what I thought, but I know I just started crying. I heard Kyle laugh and say, “oh, wow!” and I was so jealous that he got to look at her! Let me see, let me see! The doctor brought her over to my side of the curtain and I got to see her. First things first, she was huge! Seriously, huge. She looked like a six month old to me. I could barely make out anything else thanks to the tears, but I just knew she was perfect… and cold. Someone get her a blanket! Immediately all of my mama bear emotions came out. Do they know what they’re doing? Don’t hurt her! Wrap her up! It’s cold, give her a hat! I just wanted to order them all around. I was certain I could have taken better care of her, but they had me all strapped down. Man she was screaming, someone help her out. After all of their measuring, poking, and inspecting they gave her a hat, swaddled her up, and gave her to her dad. Thank God. If I didn’t get her, I was happy at least Kyle did. That was fun to watch, blurry still, but I saw all I needed to. I could see the two of them looking at each other, and I fell instantly in love with Leah and instantly more in love with Kyle. What a good dad he was going to be, I could already tell. He brought her over to my head, and I just wanted to touch her, but I couldn’t. All I could do was look, but she looked absolutely perfect. She was all swaddled, so I couldn’t count arms or legs, fingers or toes, but I checked to make sure she had two eyes, two ears, a mouth and a nose. And she did! She had it all, and it all was perfect!

It was at this point that I started fading. She was out, I saw her, I saw that she was perfect, I knew she was in the best hands with her dad, and with that my body completely gave up. I couldn’t ask it to do anything else. After they got me all sewn back together, and back on my hospital bed, one of the doctor’s asked if I wanted to hold her on the way back to my room. I wanted to shout NO. You see, I was completely numb, and on top of it, I had started to shake violently. How in the world could I hold her. I knew I couldn’t, and that she would just roll out of my arms and onto the floor. But I also knew that shouting NO would make me sound like an awful mom! Here I had just had my baby girl, and I didn’t want to hold her?! So I risked it and said, sure, completely terrified. But, the doctor knew I was numb and propped Leah between my arm, and the guard rail on the bed. Then he fastened my arms together, like you would do for a three year old that wants to hold a baby. But we made it, and I got to hold her the whole way back to the room. When we got back to the room, things turned into a regular circus. The anesthesiologist was asking me what I could feel, one doctor was asking me to clench my fists, someone was asking me about pain, and someone was changing my bed pads. With me in the bed. Meanwhile, Leah was getting worked over herself. She got washed up, she got eye drops, she got pricked, she got foot printed, and she got thoroughly inspected. Once they determined she was fine, and I was fine, it was time for her to eat.

Okay, how is this going to work, I can’t even hold her. Luckily, one of the nurses did all of the work for me. Ha. She held her, positioned her, and helped Leah eat. Meanwhile I was just lying there doing and feeling absolutely nothing, except shaking. It wasn’t at all how I envisioned the time after Leah’s birth, or her first meal… but there was nothing I could do about that. And she was eating, so me helping her or someone else helping her didn’t matter. When she had finished eating, someone else burped her, re-wrapped her, and gave her back to her dad. I think they offered her to me and this time I did decline. Only I covered it with, “let her dad hold her.” At this point not only was I numb and shaking, my eyes stopped opening. I could.not. open them no matter what I did. I told Kyle to go let our family come in. They had been waiting for two whole days to meet her, and by this time it was midnight! I knew they were all exhausted, as were we, so I wanted them to come in as soon as possible, and without being rude – leave as soon as possible. He laid Leah back on my arm, and against the guard rail, and went to get them.

For the next hour, Leah was a celebrity. Flashes going off constantly. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear them. I listened to everyone talk about how awake and alert she was. Ha – of course. That whole hour I worked on getting some feeling back. I figured maybe I could will myself to move. Little by little, things started working again. First an arm, then the other arm, then my legs, then I could actually reposition myself in the bed. Last but not least, my eyes opened again! About this time, everyone left. And it was perfect timing for me because I could now see and feel and move. Give me that baby! We might not have seen a lot of each other right after she was born, but we bonded all night. I didn’t put her down, and I didn’t sleep. She didn’t either, naturally. She finally did conk out about three am, which means she was awake from 10:35 (her birth time) to 3am. I was shocked. I thought babies sleep? Turns out, that was my first clue into what kind of child I just delivered. That whole time she was up, however, she didn’t fuss. She didn’t make a peep. Her big blue eyes just looked all around. I talked to her and told her what everything was. I reminded her of what she had just put me through, and forgave her. We had one low light on, so I could watch her every move. It was so fun to watch her take everything in; she acted like she had been here forever. Although it was fun to look into her eyes and watch her figure out her new world, I loved even more when she assumed the fetal position on my chest, closed her eyes, and went completely limp. She was so warm and cuddly! I was happy just watching her back rise and fall.

It was in those hours when she was asleep that I realized I didn’t care about the induction, I didn’t care that she took over 50 hours to get out, I didn’t care that my epidurals didn’t work, and I didn’t care that it all ended in a c-section. The only thing I cared about was the perfect and healthy little girl all cuddled up on my chest. All was right in the world. And as I watched the sun come up with her warm little body still plastered to mine – I knew that our days were forever changed in the best way possible.

Big Girl!!

My goodness, I love this little girl. I feel like sometimes I forget that in the midst of the feeding, spitting up, dirty diapers, not sleeping, and everything else that goes on in the Proebsting household on a daily basis. But she is so great. The other day I was playing with her on the floor and blowing raspberries on her belly and I got a big wiff of her. And it just smelled so good. Just like a baby. So what if that smell is just a mix of spit up and baby soap… it is the most wonderful smell. And for a while it snapped me out of the mode of just keeping her alive and into the mode of simply loving her. She is just the funniest, cutest, most wonderfully exhausting thing on the face of the planet – and Leah bug, I am completely consumed by you.

I still don’t ever want her to have a babysitter. Her grandparents have watched her a couple times, and while I’m grateful for them, I have hated every minute we’re gone. It’s honestly torture for me. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.  She’s going to hate me when she’s older, I’ll be glued to her hip. And not to be a pest or spy on her, but just because I can’t get enough of her. I don’t see that changing anytime soon.  Even last week when she was growing ever so painfully, and I left to get Kyle and I dinner I found myself internally screaming at the Subway man to hurry up with the sandwiches! I just wanted to get home. I miss her when she’s sleeping. How pathetic is that? But I’m not ashamed. She’s my baby and I can love her and be obsessed with her if I want.

This little bug that I love so very much is having quite the week. Since sometime last week I have had the strongest gut feeling that the swaddles need to go. Her sleeping habits have changed during the day, and for some reason I just wanted to blame the swaddle. My gut was telling me that she is done with them, and ready to give sleeping freely a chance. We tried it once over the weekend, and it’s just so painful to watch! She moves so much that she just works herself into a fit and cannot calm herself down. Her arms flail, her legs kick, she hits herself in the face with her hands, she arches her back so far she makes a perfect “c” – it’s literally torture for everyone involved. So I decided against my gut again, and figured she wasn’t ready. She had also been getting very fussy when we would put her in them, but I decided she was just tired and that explained the crying. Well, Monday morning rolls around and I heard lots of noises coming from her bedroom. I went to check, and whatdayaknow – she had broken free! Both arms were out and she was just having a hay day in there. I laughed at her, returned to my gut feeling and decided today would be the day! Leah was going to grow up a little, and we would start to break this thing once and for all! And after a day of no naps (minus the one on my chest, just so she would actually sleep), and constant crying I decided again that she just wasn’t ready. And I wasn’t ready. It’s hard to listen to her cry all day, and impossible to get her to calm down from the crying. BUT – 3am rolls around and I went in to get her for her overnight snack, and whatdayaknow – she was completely out of the dumb thing! And this time her arm was tangled! That’s it – ready or not – this thing is now a safety hazard and there is no looking back! She has to do it, and I have to endure her crying. I also thought to myself that it probably won’t be any easier if I wait longer, eventually she just has to get used to it. And just like that, we started today. And things have been different for a number of reasons: 1) she laid in her bed and talked to herself for a while, rather than just screaming like yesterday 2) when she did cry, it wasn’t the piercing wail of yesterday, but more subdued, like she might actually fall asleep 3) when I did go pick her up she calmed down and 4) SHE ACTTUALLY FELL ASLEEP!!!  My heart is beaming with pride!! What a big girl she is – I can’t believe it! Honestly. If you’ve ever watched her try to fall asleep, you know what I’m talking about. I figured it would take weeks, but here we are day 2, nap 1, and she did it! Sure she cried for a while beforehand, but she figured it out and slept for an hour! To top it off, when I went to get her she smiled at me! Yesterday, I didn’t get a smile until bath time. I realize we are still fighting an uphill battle, and there is a lot more crying in our futures, but all in all this is a HUGE day for all of us Proebstings!

Man, I could talk about that forever. This was her first major feat, and she aced it! But I will stop, I’m sure you all could care less that my baby can sleep without a swaddle. What you do care about is the fact that she is now wearing tights to church!! I thought summer clothes were fun, but I had no idea what fall clothes would bring. First footies, and now tights! I am going to be in Heaven all winter dressing this little girl. She’s like my own personal doll. She has tights, and footies, and track suits, and tennis shoes, and sweaters, and overalls, and oh my goodness the list keeps going. Church is now my favorite outing for two reasons – she loves it, and it’s funny to watch her eyes, AND I can put her in tights and sweaters! Speaking of church, try number four was this last weekend. And we sailed through it without an incident. She was wide eyed during the music (no hymns), and then fell asleep during the preaching. The funniest thing she may have ever done happened at the end – the pastor was praying, and instead of having my eyes closed (I’m sorry), I was looking at Leah. For the beginning of the prayer she was looking around, but about five seconds in she closed her eyes! Tight! And it totally looked like she was praying right along with everyone! I was silently cracking up – and she opened them with the word Amen, I kid you not. Man I love the Leah/Church experience. I also love her desperate attempts to get herself from her back to her belly. Anytime I lay her down that’s immediately what she does. She is trying so hard, complete with grunting and cries of frustration. It’s so sad to watch and I just want to help her out a little! In more fun news, her laugh is developing. There have been a couple times when Kyle and I have looked at each other and asked, “was that a laugh?” It’s basically a huge smile with a squeak at the end, but it’s developing more and more every day. I can’t wait for a giggle! She also now smiles and gets really excited when we turn the bathtub on for her bath. It cracks me up. And no matter how hard her day has been, a bath makes everything better. I’m so thankful we have such a happy activity to wrap up the day and go into the night.

In her mom’s news – I have to start making myself eat. A lot. I’m down 10lbs from pre pregnancy, and it just keeps going. Nothing I own fits, and it’s not a good thing. I figure if I can get myself to eat breakfast, hopefully that will set the stage for the rest of the day. I was doing well with dinner, except on days where she cries a lot (ie, the growth spurt and now unswaddling) – I just don’t have an appetite after a hard day of hearing her cry. I think my biggest problem is that I don’t have time. Or don’t make time. When, praise the Lord, she is sleeping the last thing on my mind is eating. I would rather clean or do laundry. Maybe my goal for the rest of the week will be to eat… tough goal, I know. I have a new guilty pleasure – reading my own blog. Ha, please don’t judge me. Here’s how it started: I have another guilty pleasure that started last week when Leah was growing and we were both dying for rest. I let her sleep on me for her afternoon nap. And it was just so cozy! She’s so snuggly, and even more so in her footie jammies. So every day since then, I take her upstairs, stack up the pillows, turn on the TV, and let her fall blissfully asleep while I don’t move. One of these days, I decided to get on my phone and read some old blogs, just for fun, and to bring back memories of her when I was pregnant. Man, I’m so glad I blogged throughout pregnancy; it is so fun to look back on! So I’ve gotten hooked (is that conceited?), and I started at the beginning of the pregnancy. It’s so funny to me to see the similarities between Leah in my belly and Leah out of my belly. She is EXACTLY the same. For instance, in one of the very early blogs I actually said, “I think I’m growing a child that hates to sleep.” I totally grew a child that hates to sleep. I was reading in a couple blogs about her growth spurts, and I documented how exhausted I was and how I was brought to tears every time, but then woke up bigger the next morning and things were back to normal. Same things happen when she grows now. I wrote about how much she moved on a number of occasions, and she still doesn’t stop. And today I read a blog where she was supposedly growing her upper lip, and I teared up a little. Now I get to see that upper lip and watch it form a smile – and can I just say, it is a perfect upper lip.

That’s about it for today. Leah is going to be 11 weeks, and if you’re keeping track that will make her three months old in just one week! Crazy.

Your conversation is in regards to the nap Leah takes on me everyday:

Kyle: How long have you been up here today?

Maria: Two and a half hours

Kyle: How do you just lay there for that long?

Maria: I’m a pro at being lazy.

And I am.

Double Digits!

Little bug is going to be 10 weeks tomorrow! Seriously, where does the time go? 10 weeks has always been a fun milestone for me from pregnancy until now. When I was pregnant it felt so good to get to double digits. It finally felt real that I was pregnant, and I felt less worried that I might miscarry. I started to feel like a real pregnant person, and things started getting fun. And then I got to 30 weeks, and I just had 10 left! And that was even more fun. Counting down from 10 made everything go by so quickly, and I could taste the end! And now she’s here, and she’s 10 weeks old. What a big girl.

Ten weeks has come in with a bang. I could write a book on the things I’ve endured in just the last two days. It really all started Sunday without me knowing it. Leah ate, and ate, and ate, and then ate some more. And then of course she spit up, and spit up, and spit up, and spit up some more. At first I didn’t think much of it, but by the end of the day I was wondering why on Earth she was so hungry?! So Sunday night rolls around and the screaming started, along with the fussy eating. But she slept fairly well that night, so it must have just been a fluke. Well. Monday comes, and this child would.not.sleep. She had one, hour and a half nap, and that was it! For the entire day. Now we all know she doesn’t like to sleep, but usually she will with some coaxing, but not this day. I could have bounced until my legs fell off and she was not closing her eyes. But by the end of the day, it hit me. Growth.spurt. I don’t know why it takes me so long to figure these things out. We have been through two of them now and the symptoms are the same every time. She is eats and thus spits up a ton, she is fussy, when she does eat she is a squirmy mess, she doesn’t sleep, I start to think something is wrong with her, and right before I figure it out I am usually talking to the baby sleep whisperer herself, Lauren Eisleben, and asking what on earth I can do to make her sleep. Like clockwork, I kid you not all of those things happen in order. So finally, I was feeling good about myself. I figured it out, she was just growing. Tonight she would sleep good, and Tuesday morning she would wake up bigger and well rested.

Ha! Monday night might have been the hardest, most exhausting night of her (and my life). We worked on getting her to bed from 8:30 to 10:30, and then she was up at 1:45…and wait for it… stayed up until 5:45. AM! I was absolutely beside myself - and sitting in my bed sobbing, listening to her cry in hers at 4:30, and not having the slightest clue what to do with her. Kyle took over at 5:30, and thank God she was asleep at 5:45. I wasn’t even tired anymore, well I was, but I was delirious. I woke up at 8:30 and decided to eat quickly before she woke up. I knew to keep her on her schedule I would have to wake her up at 9. But honestly, I was terrified to wake her up. We had not had a day or night like this one yet. Usually somewhere she makes up for her lack of sleep, and so far she had no signs of doing that. But luckily, or unluckily, I didn’t have the option of not waking her up. She was up on her own at 9am. And just like that, day two started. I kept waiting for her to “catch up” on some kind of sleep, but it never came. She didn’t close her eyes all day. Ok, I take that back, she had one 10 minute nap on her own, and then at about 3:30 she cried herself to sleep on my chest. We both stayed in the same position for two hours. I was terrified to move, she was finally sleeping! This was the first real nap she had had in two full days! I started doubting my growth spurt theory. We hadn’t had one this bad before. I couldn’t rock her to sleep in my arms, I couldn’t bounce her, I couldn’t get her to sleep in the bathroom with the fan on, and I even tried to let her cry herself to sleep – and after an hour and a half… I gave up. By the time Kyle got home I was spent. Stick a fork in me, I’m done. I had done everything under the sun, for two days straight, and nothing was working. I switched from growth spurt to ear infection, teething, separation anxiety, or more food allergies. I was at a complete loss. He took over for a while, and I went to get us some food. She still wasn’t asleep by the time I got home, so I ate my food. He put her down and she slept for about five minutes while he started his dinner. I went up to get her so he could eat, and because of my lack of energy, and lack of really caring to comfort her (bad mom, I know) I just put her on my chest and we cried together. And then it happened… Kyle opened his mouth. He never should have done that. Not only did he open his mouth, he opened it and said, “is that all you’ve done all day is let her lay on you and cry?” Wrong thing to say buddy. Wrong.thing.to.say. I think he regretted it after my 10 minute rant back at him. We spent the next hour or so in our separate corners. I’m sure it was just an honest question, but oh my goodness, how dare he?! He spent the next hour upstairs with Leah while I fumed and researched what on earth could be wrong with this child. I had decided it was not a growth spurt, but an ear infection. I would call the doctor in the morning, and for now I would give her some Tylenol. I took it upstairs, laid Leah on the bed and she just smiled at me for the next fifteen minutes. Happy as a peach. Okay, maybe it’s not an ear infection? What is going on with this child?! Someone, help! I gave her the Tylenol anyways, as it was my last resort. I was out of options. By then it was bathtime and bedtime. Somehow, I didn’t think there would be much of a bedtime tonight. But what do you know the little bug surprised me! She was asleep at 9! And to wrap this awful nightmare up… she slept til 3, went back to bed at 330, and woke up this morning at 8am! Hallelujah. And she woke up too long for her swaddle and feeling like lead. Mama knows best, growth spurt complete. Her napping is back to normal, her smiling is back to normal, and our lives are back to normal. Thank God. This one was a doosey.

So what do I know about my now heavier and longer little girl in her tenth week of life? Well for starters I think one of these days she is just going to kick her legs right off. She kicks and kicks like crazy! She is getting very good at following us around with her eyes. She likes to watch Kyle more than me, and will track him wherever he goes. It’s pretty cute. She will also turn to look at us if she hears us talking. She is very fond of her green frog, and smiles and talks to him a lot. She is trying very hard to roll from her back to her front, and sometimes I just want to give her a little push to help her along. But I won’t. She still cries in the car, but if we turn her rainforest lullaby CD on it seems to calm her down. We have also gone a couple places without her screaming… is she getting used to it?! We shall see. Besides her growing days, she is pretty much a pro at bedtime. Having a bedtime means Kyle and I have to be at home by 8, which sometimes is a bummer – but no one is complaining about her sleeping. I think Leah and I will have an outing soon of shoe shopping! During the summer she didn’t need them, but now that it’s cooler I think she’ll need some. Every girl needs a good pair of boots! She experienced her first football Sunday, and she actually watched a lot of it, ha. She’s must be a daddy’s girl. I sat her on my lap facing the TV, and she actually sat there for about ten minutes just gnawing on her hands, watching the game. Ten minutes in Leah time is an eternity! She has experienced church two more times. The second time we went with her was a complete bust! It was hymn night! I actually kind of like hymns, they can be soothing. Well, Leah does not like to be soothed. She didn’t calm down the entire time. I actually had to take her out during the preaching. I was counting on the worship to relax her like the first time, but the hymns were just too slow. We never made it to relaxed. This child needs a light show and perhaps a drum solo to relax. But the following Sunday was a special September 11 service complete with a concert beforehand. And what do you know, Leah was completely relaxed and slept through the whole service! Somehow we’ll have to be warned of the hymns ahead of time so we don’t make that mistake again.

Speaking of September 11^th, this was Leah’s first. It was kind of surreal to me to think about the world she was born into. It is definitely a different world than her parents. She is not going to know what it’s like to fly without having to put hand sanitizer in a Ziploc bag. And I’ll have to explain to her why. She will grow up knowing exactly what Al-Qaida is. She will hear all about terrorists. She will know about the World Trade Centers even though they don’t exist anymore. I didn’t know what they were until they fell. She will study that day in history, she will bring homework home about it, and Kyle and I will be able to give her firsthand knowledge. It’s pretty bizarre. And sad. I could probably count the number of times I heard about terrorism on one hand before September 11^th. And now Leah will grow up with it, hearing about it more often than I’d like. I held her a little closer that day (even though she squirmed), and I thought about how I’ll try my best to shield her from all of the evil things in this world. I was also a little more grateful for Kyle on that day. So many wives lost husbands, and little girls lost daddies. What we the two of us do without him? He had a softball game Sunday night right at bedtime. So while he was there, Leah and I were holding down the fort. Obviously, I can do bedtime by myself, but it’s so much easier with him. And Leah enjoys it more, too. But even though it was more difficult, I knew that he would be home in just a couple hours and all would be well again. And I thought to myself on Monday morning how lucky we were again, because we got a September 12^th with him. Something so many families didn’t get ten years ago, and still aren’t getting.

That’s all she wrote for today. And your conversation is in regards to football Sundays:

 Me: I think Leah likes football

 Kyle: Ya she does. We’re gonna watch all the football together. And eat chips, and popcorn, and have the beer.

 Me: What, when she’s 21?

 Kyle: Well, she can bring me the beer.

(I should clarify that 1)He is not an alcoholic, and 2)I will make sure that Leah never has to bring her dad beer).

Happy Two Months!

My, oh my. Two months ago today…

Month one flew by. We were so wrapped up in her actual birth, then figuring her out, then figuring ourselves out there was no time to think about anything. I had no idea what day was what. Her second month with us, however, has been much more normal. It hasn’t sped by and it hasn’t been a blur. I think we’ve got a handle on her now. We know what makes her tick (for the most part), and that has made things much easier. We don’t just stumble around all day. We have a routine, we have games to play, we get out of the house, and we go about our days like normal people. The fact that this month didn’t speed by, isn’t a bad thing. It just means that this is life now – and that is such a wonderful feeling.

And my goodness, this child is not an easy one. But what fun would that be if she were? I wouldn’t get the workout I do if she slept like she was “supposed” to. I wouldn’t get to bond with her in the backseat of the car every time we go somewhere to try to prolong her screaming for being strapped down. I would just get fat if I had time to eat all day (or at all). I wouldn’t get to use my lifeguarding skills from high school if she just sat in her bathtub and splashed. And I wouldn’t get to examine every room in my house as we walk around if she were content just sitting. The truth is, I didn’t want an “easy” baby. I wanted a fun one. I wanted to laugh, and play, and have lots to write about. Sure, some days I wish she would sleep, and some days I wish I could eat – but what on earth would I have to blog about??

Leah is skyrocketing to adulthood before our eyes. Lord help us when she can actually talk. I cannot wait to hear what comes out of her mouth. I feel like she gets so much across to us with just her eyes, it will be a trip to hear what she’s actually thinking. She’s really using her legs this days. I call her my kickin’ chicken at least 80 times a day. And if she’s not sitting in her bouncer kicking, she’s standing and jumping. She looooves her fists. I can hardly get a picture of her smiling anymore, because her darn fists are always in her mouth! But it’s cute, and hopefully she is one step closer to finding her fingers so I’m not complaining. She has rolled over several times now, and it appears that she is working on getting herself from back to stomach. She has some new cries. Yaaaay. They are starting to sound more like baby cries, too, and less like newborn cries. She hates her car seat/riding in the car still. Which makes me dread long trips...and short trips. We can’t get her two minutes down the road without her screaming. Surely she will eventually get used to it, right? She is getting really good at bedtime! We officially have a routine of bath, snack, prayers and bed. We took it down from 10, that seemed to be too much of a stretch. So now between 8 and 9, usually 8:30 she gets a bath. Then a bedtime snack. Then we swaddle her up, rock her for a few minutes and lay her down. Sometimes it takes a couple tries of rocking her and putting her down, but she is getting it, and she is sleeping great at night – so no one is complaining.

She had her two month check-up yesterday. Shots. I wasn’t as freaked as I thought I’d be. But our doctor worked out a schedule for us so she’s not getting a million at once, so that really put me at ease. Leah screamed bloody murder, but it was over in less than three seconds. I tried to explain to her that she got less than all the other babies, but she didn’t seem to care. I was more worried about afterwards. I’ve heard horror stories about babies being in pain, fevers, cranky, crying, legs hurt, etc. What did Leah do? Well, she wouldn’t sleep – but what’s new. But instead of being fussy she was extra happy, extra smiley, and extra talkative! She had more to tell us last night than she ever has. And she didn’t fuss at all! I spent the whole day waiting for this horror to come and it never did. So that led me to think that I need to stop reading emails, stop listening to other parents, stop asking what other babies do – Leah never has and never will do what all the other little babies do. The fact that she was the complete opposite of a mess on shot day should not have surprised me. But besides the shots, Leah is doing just great. She is 24.5inches long (she’s gonna make one heck of a swimmer), and 11.8lbs. The doctor was very impressed with her head holding abilities and told her she was not supposed to be doing that yet. He was also impressed with her eye contact, and she didn’t take her eyes off of him the whole time. Oh, and we learned this at our last appointment, but I didn’t write about it (I don’t think). Leah has a milk allergy. Go figure. Who doesn’t? You’ve read my rant about milk, so obviously it was no big deal to me. However, since Leah can’t have milk – I can’t have milk. The milk was not the hard part for me, the ice cream and cheese was. But oh well, we’re both healthier for not getting it. It also reassured me that we have a great doctor. Instead of taking her eczema (the sign of milk allergy), and giving us a medicine – he started with my diet. She has also been less fussy since I’ve cut it out,  and that’s reason enough to keep it up.

And because it’s fun for me – this time two months ago… my Stadol was wearing off. I don’t think I’ve written about my stadol experience, as it was the least important event of the day, but I’ve recently remembered some things about it. Allow me to share. So the stadol is what they can give you 1)if you don’t want a full epidural or 2)if you’re not ready for the epidural, but need something for pain. I was in category two. They had broken my water and things were starting to heat up. Now let me describe it. It’s a fun little drug. Have you ever had a little bit too much wine? And maybe things start spinning? Things might be funnier? And you might get a little nauseous? Well, the stadol is the spinning and the funnier – without the sickness! Apparently, it doesn’t so much take your pain away as it just makes you relax and handle it. Well, relax and handle it I did. It was the weirdest feeling in the world, and I remember it clearly. I still felt the contractions, but I could have cared less. The room was definitely spinning, and I couldn’t open my eyes – but I wasn’t sick. I was also hallucinating. I don’t think I’ve even told Kyle this, because like I mentioned – in the grand scheme of things, this one left my mind. I remember clearly thinking that I was in my kitchen. Not just in my kitchen, I was on the counter by my sink. Having the baby. Honestly. And it wasn’t until the stadol wore off that I realized I was not at all in my kitchen, but still in the hospital. So.Bizzare. But, here I sit today – and I finally had the baby. Something I didn’t think was ever going to happen two months ago. My c-section stuff has basically all healed. It’s still numb, but there’s really no more pain. Unless Leah jumps on it. I am officially eight pounds under my pre-pregnancy weight. And I’m not saying that to brag, because believe me, I’m not trying. I’m not even happy about it (I’m not mad, either), just indifferent. At this rate though, I will be 80lbs by the time Leah is one.

I also love that it’s fall!! Cooler temperatures mean the windows are open, the fall candles are out, and Leah gets to wear her footie jammies!! Something about them just makes her extra cute. Now I’m going to leave you with a conversation AND as a bonus something I overheard Kyle doing with Leah that made me crack up. 

The conversation is in regards to her bouncer:

Kyle: I need to get one of these.

Me: Why?

Kyle: So I can just sit and be vibrated.

And the other night I was sitting on the couch and Kyle was on the floor playing with Leah. He asked her if she wanted to dance, so he held her up and made her dance meanwhile singing, “I’m a mannniac, mannniac on the floor. And I’m dancin’ like I’ve never danced before!”

  

It just made me laugh. And she is a complete maniac. Well, they both are.