Because this little man can eat.
So I figured I'd share my labor story. I love labor stories. They are horrific and gruesome, but usually have a sappy, happy ending. Love them.
I decided this time to plan for a c-section. I'm pretty sure I developed gestational diabetes after the glucose test (that I barely passed anyway) so my baby boy was really, really big. Phoebe and Isaac were both VBACs, but they were also very big (over 9 pounds) and they were almost impossible to push out for me. Doctors had to use the vacuum and forceps to get the job done, and my babies were so beat up, bruised, and exhausted. Not to mention, recovering from these births was long and brutal. Recovering from the c-section when I had Gwen wasn't even nearly as painful for me, so I decided c-section it is. Especially since the ultrasound to measure this little boy proved him not so little.
December 14th was our day. I was exactly 39 weeks, and I wasn't going to wait a day more. But I was so unbearably nervous for the surgery. I felt something was going to go wrong and I was pacing and praying up a storm. Thankfully, nothing really did go wrong. It was pretty much a by the book delivery! (Except for one little thing that I'll mention in a minute...) Samuel Shadrach was born kicking and screaming. He wasn't drugged or groggy like my previous 2 (no epidural...), he wasn't bruised, no broken bones, and he was my first baby who came out howling. The doctors and nurses predicted he was between 8 or 9 pounds. I laughed at them. I knew better. 10 pounds, 7 ounces! 22 inches long. A week early! And there was a TON of water in there with him too. Doctor joked and said we should name him Noah. He was beautiful. They lifted him up over the curtain and I cried as he howled away.
I'm glad I remember seeing him that first time. The doctors had to give me a medicine to make me forget the surgery because the spinal I was given wore off during it. I know I've told this story a bazillion times, but you're going to hear it again! It was traumatizing at the time (and a pretty good story, in my opinion...) I told the anesthesiologist that I was feeling something, but he told me that was normal, that I would feel pressure and pulling. Um... no. That's not what I was feeling. I could feel the knife being used, my skin breaking away, my organs being shifted, my uterus being stitched up. It wasn't until I started making real noise and going "ow ow ow" after every little stitch that I got my doctor's attention and he asked why the heck I was feeling this. Then I was given my forgetfulness potion, and... that didn't quite work either. I still remember the surgery and that I was in pain (though not the pain itself from that point) and I do remember hallucinating. I felt like drunk Dumbo. Unfortunately though, by the end of the surgery, I have very little memory. They wheeled me to my room, I got to hold Sammy and feed him, but I don't remember that. My first memory after the surgery was when Logan said his parents were on their way over. It's strange, looking back on pictures I took and were taken of me during this period. I'm smiling away... no memory. Weird.
We all made it through however! Sammy had a bit of jaundice that kept us in the hospital an extra day, but other than that, everything was perfect. I healed up well, no epidural migraine, Sammy was perfect, an excellent breast feeder, slept a lot. Good thing too, because I saw Logan for only 2 hours a day during the stay there, and I had the baby in the room with me the whole time. It was a little rough, but we managed. We watched A LOT of HGTV. Helped us through.
Sammy's 3 weeks already. He's almost 12 pounds and he's holding his head up like a bonafide human being. Time's already flying by. We celebrated Christmas and the New Year in our first home as a whole family. Lovely times.
And I've lost over 30 pounds already. I mean, sure... I'm counting from 9 months preggo, but still. It counts.
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