Sunday, December 11, 2011

Birth Story Part II: Blood, Mucous, and Poop – oh my!


In case you missed Birth Story Part I, you can catch up on the juicy (seriously) details here.

Alright, so where did we leave off?  Ahh, yes. I had just spent 4 hours chillaxin’ post-epidural.  Did I mentioned that I lurve me some epidural?  When I got my epidural, I was 3cm dilated.  About 4 hours after the epidural, I started to feel some pressure/pain in my lady bits and by boconcus (my great-grandmother’s name for butt).  We pushed the magic button on my bed and my sweet nurse came in to check me out – I had progressed to 7cm.  Yahoo!  She also noticed that our sweet baby girl’s heart rate had dropped and she wasn’t turned quite right (not to a super scary emergency level, just enough to do a little something to help). 


Babies should be born head first, face to the floor, but our baby was head first, face to the side.  In order to get her to turn 90 degrees, they needed me to lie on my side.  Sounds easy, right?  Not so easy when the ENTIRE BOTTOM HALF OF YOUR BODY IS NUMB.  In order to flip me to my side, I had to hold the side of the bed while one nurse worked on moving my legs and another nurse moved the pee pad underneath me to help my butt/hips turn.  I felt like a morbidly obese person on TLC trying to get out of a recliner or something.

Just a few minutes before turning on my side, Scott said, “I’ve never been this close to someone else’s pee and been okay with it.”  I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I looked over and he was sitting by my catheter bag.  Apparently when the bottom half of your body is numb from an epidural, you cannot feel or control yourself peeing.  Totally didn’t think of that.  Oh, P.S. If you’re going to get a catheter, make sure to get it with an epidural.  Then it’s no biggie!  It was this moment that things got really interesting and my relationship with Scott grew deeper and dirtier.  Okay, so I’m lying on my side and Scott is sitting right by my face and holding my hand.  Besides not being able to control your bladder, you cannot control your sphincter (yea…I said sphincter).  It was at this point that I started farting uncontrollably…about 6 inches from my husband’s face.  Want to feel how awkward this is?  I challenge you to the next time you have to pass gas, stand up to someone face to face in an uncomfortably close range and let ‘er rip. 

It gets worse.

As I’m staring into the beautiful blue eyes of my loving husband and letting out some no-so-lady-like toots, I begin to shart (aka when one farts and a little shit comes out or “gas mixed with mass”).  So essentially, I’m looking at the love of my life and pooping the bed at the same time.  I felt so helpless.  Here’s how the rest of this situation played out.  I’ll write it like a play in case anyone would like to act it out later.

Michelle: Umm…Scott?  I’m pretty sure I just pooped in the bed.
Scott: [Wide eyes] Oh really? [Scott’s face here says “Please don’t ask me to wipe you.”]
Michelle: Yeah, I’m pretty sure.  Can you call in the nurse?
Scott pushes the magic nurse button on my bed.
Nurse (over speaker): Yes, can I help you?
Scott: Umm, my wife needs some help.
Nurse (over speaker): Okay, I’ll send your nurse in.
Enter nurse
Michelle: Hi. How would you feel if I told you that I think I just pooped?
Nurse: That could be a definite possibility. [Nurse walks to my butt & lifts up my sheet.] Yeah, it looks like a little poop, a little blood, a little mucous.
Michelle’s inner dialogue: Oh my gosh! My butt pooped, bled, and SNEEZED?!

Now at this point, I was expecting a nice little clean up from my sweet nurse.  Nope.  She literally took one tissue, did the tiniest little wipe, and then went about her business as I sat in my business. I guess knowing that it wasn’t worth her time to clean any of that up was just a sign of the mess that was to come.

And then came the pushing.

Okay, even when I imagined having an epidural and then pushing a baby out of my lady bits, I thought it was going to be a 100 on the pain scale. It turns out the epidural and adrenaline made it probably a 30 for me.  Yes, it was hard work, but it was SO exciting and between contractions and pushing, I was able to smile and laugh and joke with my husband and doctor.  It was actually a really great experience.  When I envisioned pushing a baby out, I figured a team of all these people and weird tools and hospital-y things would start to happen.  What actually happened was my sweet nurse took a look under my gown and said, “It’s time for you to push.”  She then had to describe HOW I should push.  It’s funny that they don’t cover this topic in the childbirth class, but it’s all pretty natural, so it just sort of happens.  Anyway, what I’m saying is I started pushing the baby out when the only people in the room were me, Scott, & the nurse (and part of Effy’s head). Wait…where’s my doctor?  Shouldn’t somebody be down there to catch her?  Turns out pushing when it’s just your husband and a nurse in the room is relatively peaceful, so I was cool with it.  After my very first push, the nurse said that she could already see the baby’s head, which was very impressive for a first birth.  I then said, “Are you calling me loose?”  Luckily, our nurse was awesome and laughed at my bad joke instead of just feeling awkward.  My doctor came in and made me happy because she’s the kindest lady ever. I do remember the doctor asking if I wanted to reach down and feel the baby’s head. Nah, I’m good.

Scott went into this experience not sure if he was going to watch Effy come out or if he was going to stay back behind my legs.  Once it all started, he had no problem watching it all happen and said it was really exciting to watch and not nearly as weird or gross as anticipated.  He was an outstanding coach and partner during this whole process and really advocated for what we both wanted for the baby and what I needed to stay comfortable.  I LOVE HIM.

After a little over an hour of pushing, she arrived! 

Effy Genevieve, born 9.30.11 at 4:34pm. 7lbs, 0.2oz, 20” long.




Monday, December 5, 2011

Baby Check: 2 Months

Two months of parenting have gone by and I still have very little idea what I’m doing.  From what I understand, that feeling will last forever.  Miss Effy turned 2 months old last week and she is SO much different than a month ago.  I have no baby experience prior to our daughter, so I’m working on a very steep learning curve here.  


Effy’s 2 month stats:
·       10lbs, 14oz (50th percentile) – 7lbs, 0.2oz at birth
·       22.75” long (75th percentile) – 20” long at birth

A beautiful baby: She is so much fun to look at and inspect, so long as she sits still.  That’s one of the best parts about breastfeeding is she’s awake and super content, so I can dig fuzz out from between her fingers and inspect what we believe to be a future cowlick and she won’t wiggle away from me. It’s hard to tell 100% what color her eyes will be, but Scott and I both think they’re looking more and more brown (her mama has brown eyes, and daddy has blue).  I love looking at her eyelashes and kissing her face.  Our family has never been a kiss-on-the-mouth type of family (except for Scott and I.  We DO kiss on the mouth.  Don’t tell my dad), but Effy gets kisses on the mouth from her crazy mama every day because I CANNOT RESIST. I’m not sure she likes it, but she can’t move away so BOOM.  Kissed on the lips.

Fun noises: Effy spent the first month of her life grunting but now only 30% of her noises are grunts (based on a recent poll taken by observers of Effy’s noises [AKA me]).  Now she’s actually making other fun noises, mostly little happy screams and sometimes mad screams.  I guess you could call it coo-ing, but I really think they’re little baby screams.
Sleeping: Homegirl is figuring this stuff out.  She has her moments, as we all do, but she seems to be learning the difference between day and night.  Her “night” appears to be going to bed between 8pm and 10pm sometime (just depending on when she eats) and she wakes up between 6:30 and 8am.  When she doesn’t go to bed when I feel like she should, I get cranky and take it out on my loving husband.  Actually, we both seem to do a pretty good job of picking up when the other person is tired and/or frustrated.  That hasn’t happened as much in the last couple of weeks because she’s sleeping so much better! Let’s hope this pattern continues.
Covering up: I’m not exaggerating…I buy something from Baby Gap or Old Navy once a week for this little person.  This is a problem.  Not so much of a problem that I’m going to quit, but enough of a problem that I’d call it a “problem”.  I’m not much for words on baby clothes…like, “Mommy’s Little Angel” or “Cute & Cuddly”, however, I was able to look past it when I saw this. Currently on my wishlist Effy’s wishlist are this, this, and this. If you would like to donate to Effy’s closet, please send gift cards to our home address.  As you can see, this poor, innocent baby doesn’t have enough clothes.

Meal time: Sweet baby loves her some boob, just like her father ::badum ching::.No but seriously, breastfeeding is going very well and I feel so blessed because of that. I know that breastfeeding is not always something mothers are able to do for various reasons and I’m so grateful that Effy and I figured it out together.  Breastfeeding while not at home?  Oh man, I could go on and on about the challenges of that, which I hope to in another post.  I really want to get better about posting frequently.  In January, I’m going back to teach so I’ll be in front of a computer all day, hopefully giving me more time to get some thoughts out of my head and onto this blog.  Of course not when the students are in the room…that would make me an ineffective teacher.  I’ll blog with all of my free time as a high school teacher & new mom (hardy har har).

Play time: Effy’s best friends are (in order): mommy’s boobs, the ceiling fan, most light fixtures, a racist panda toy from Effy’s Asian aunt Emily, and a black & white rattle-ish toy from Scott’s cousin Kristin.  The best new play time treat? She has started laughing at things we actually do!  Scott figured out that by saying “baby” in a weird way, you will 90% of the time get a few big toothless grins out of her.  It’s pretty much what we live for.


Outings: If you’re my friend on Facebook, I think you’ll agree that Effy needs to stop going to Nordstrom.  Here’s the benefit, however, of going there: (1) nursing mother’s room, (2) delicious café with tomato basil soup, (3) AH-dorable kids clothes, and (4) attached to a mall where we can walk around in a climate controlled environment.  My mom, Effy, and I have been to Nordstrom Café so much that we now sit in the same section to get the same waitress who we adore.  In fact, Mom went in to the café to get our food and a table while I fed Effy.  The waitress came up to my mom and said, “No Effy today?”  She remembered my daughter’s name.  Needless to say, she got a 40% tip that day.  Effy also had her first overnight trip to a hotel!  My dear friend Kasi got married the first weekend of November and I was lucky enough to be a bridesmaid.  We packed up our car (it was STUFFED), and headed to Lawrence for the weekend.  It was fun to experience something new with the little lady and take advantage of essentially staying on campus.  We decided to show Effy where her mom & dad met.   
The bench where Daddy proposed.
The building where Mom & Dad met.
Whatever, Mom. This is boring. I want to go home and play with the ceiling fan.
Effy also made an outing to the school where I teach.  I did secretly sneak in the back door to my friend Sarah’s room and hid out there until most of the students were out of the halls.  My students have no physical boundaries and based on the amount of pregnant belly rubbing I received, Effy would have left with a variety of germs, old band-aids, and cheeto dust on her cute Baby Gap outfit.  Sick.

Effy, I love you, I love you, I love you.  I love the way you look all swaddled up with your big soft cheeks waiting for my kisses.  I love the way your hair smells after you get a bath.  I love watching you stretch after a nap.  I love washing and hanging up all your little clothes.  I love your little sneezes , especially when it makes your pacifier shoot out like a little rocket.  You make your dad & I so proud and happy every day and we hope that you know how much we love and care for you.  We’re SO incredibly blessed to have you as our daughter and hope that we can be the parents you deserve. 

Alright friends. I know I haven’t been good about writing and I’ve heard from a few of you that you’re anxiously awaiting the graphic sequel to part I of the birth story. I hope to get that out of my head this week!