Today has been a messy day all around, so I figured it'd be the perfect time to do The Gory Post. Especially since we're still having junior high girl issues with technology.
This morning the baby pooped through his outfit before we'd even finished breakfast. Carrie let (though that's not really the right word for it- I don't think there IS a right word for it in the English language) Dada pull both her stubborn, loose teeth tonight. And the baby has been extra blorpy today. No idea what I've eaten that would be responsible for all the fun and games.
So anyway, since we're in the midst of mess, here goes.
June 4 I walked clear back to the very back of our neighborhood. There's a hotel back there, the kind with no windows and each suite has its own garage. We've never stayed there, but I hear it's nice. Not sure off the top of my head how long of a distance the walk is, but it's a nice walk and I was going at a pretty good clip, steaming right along with the belly out in front. Dada lapped me a few times on his bike. About an hour after getting back home, I said, "welp, time to go!" so we threw stuff in a bag for him (he'd made me do mine forever ago) and we headed to the hospital. Grandmama was here with the big kids, as you'll recall, so all our bases were covered.
We got there and they did the prelim check and said I was at 7 centimeters or so, I think... I'd been 4 that morning at my appointment when she checked me "more vigorously" than usual. My paperwork had already been mailed in, so that was taken care of, and they scooted me to where I belonged. I got my nurse, Cory, who was awesome, and she hooked me up to the baby monitors:
My doctor wasn't there until the next day, so I had a sub and her assistant. ;) While her assistant was talking to me, one of the other nurses was trying to get my IV in so I could have my 4 hours of antibiotics since I tested positive for the group B strep, again. I knew I'd never HAVE 4 hours since I was already at 7, but this doctor was convinced I had to do my best. However, the nurse was having a hard time with my veins. She was getting frustrated and felt really bad for me, so another one took over. The assistant was supposed to be asking me questions, but even she would stop talking to watch and that's when I'd get dizzy. It took two nurses FIVE TRIES to get the IV in. They felt TERRIBLE and kept saying that my veins were great, but I kept blowing the whatevers. They showed us one, and the end of it was all bent up. No idea what all that was about. Poor Dada wasn't even feeling so well while watching them play pincushion with me! I had fabulous bruises the next week. There were three tries in one arm and two in the other. I asked if they could do the back of my left hand and the nurse laughed and said, "you have so many holes in you I'm afraid you'd leak!" So that made me laugh, thinking of cartoons how people spring leaks. Finally it was in.
The contractions were really, really painful this time and I wanted to push before I was ready. I kept telling people that there wouldn't be time for 4 hours of antibiotics. They kept telling me to try. So I had them check me again and I was at 9. I distinctly remember saying, "it has to be a girl- Liam didn't hurt this much!"
They told me the baby had pooped and that there was meconium in my fluid, so they got a team together in case he/she was in distress. My water actually did break on its own this time, a first for me, and when I finally got to push it only took two pushes, I think. They made me stop after the first one so they could suction the heck out of the poor kid, and then I got to finish. Surprise! A baby boy! Dada admitted to me later that he DID know the whole time. Turns out he HAD peeked into our envelope and kept the secret the entire time. I was so proud of him. =)
The team of baby nurses said he looked fine, that everything was okay, and that he was wonderful. He was a really ruddy little guy and everyone commented on his lots of dark hair. He has continued to be a wonderful baby!
Damon is 4 months old now, can roll from his back to his tummy (just started that this week), has dark eyes that can't quite decide if they'll stay hazel or go brown the whole way, and has light blond fuzz coming in where he lost his dark hair. He still has dark hair at the base of his neck and some long strands on the top of his head that curl into one wild mohawk. He's chubby and sweet and shrieks when he's excited, so we're calling him our Shriekasaurus. Carrie did something similar, so she was called the Carridactyl.
Right now he's downstairs watching OSU get pummeled by Wisconsin, so I better go rescue him from Dada. Happy weekend to all, and thanks for being patient about the lack of pictures. These ones are old, that's why they worked! =/
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