Monday, September 29, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
Coming up for air...
So, she came early... 6 lbs, 19 inches.
We had yet to pack bags, write out our "birth plan" or even program our "text tree" into our cell phones when little Isabelle decided she was ready for the world. I had only just reached my 35th week. (For all you birthing neophytes, one is expected to to carry for 40 weeks.) The day before at the doctor's office, I had been told I would go at LEAST until my due date, and that I could expect a 9+ pounder. Imagine my surprise when that next morning, while getting ready for work, I found myself standing in a puddle. Yes, a puddle.
Thus at around 8:30 on the morning of August 27th, CJ and I headed to the hospital for the most amazing three days of my life.
Labor started off rather mild. Grandma Sallie had plenty of time to shower, pack, and drive the nearly three hours from Swansboro. Once she got to the hospital, I still had the energy and humor to walk brisk laps around the recovery ward with her holding my hand. I waddled and we giggled. However, once it was CJ's turn to make the rounds, I could no longer walk through the contractions. He very nearly had to drag me back to my room before the pain set in. Suffice it to say, labor defies logic and the laws of physics... it both sucks AND blows. I pity the poor well-wishers who trailed in and out of my room that day, subjected to my screaming and scary sounds. I was not a pretty sight.
Drugs are good. Very good. I HIGHLY recommend the epidural. Tell the dealer Yanna sent you.
I must send a shout-out to a most wonderful woman: Dee, my nurse/midwife from Dublin. When she lived in Ireland, she delivered more babies than most doctors here stateside... her knowledge, bedside manner, and general aura helped more than I can say.
On to my incredible mom... who literally had a snack bar laid out in my delivery room. Her soft voice and gentle but firm encouragement got me through the hardest day of my life. As with all my life's challenges, I could not have done it without her. She's still laughing that my first words upon seeing Isabelle were "Hey potato!" Yes, that how big she looked to me.
But nothing could have prepared me for CJ's participation. His preternaturally calm spirit never wavered once... not during my screams, not when he had to hold me through the epidural, and not as he cut the umbilical cord (which he said reminded him of inner tube material). He held my hand, pushed back my hair, and watched every last second of the birth. Ew. Since the minute he first held her, my husband has been the most wonderful father I have ever known.
I am at the beginning of the most wondrous journey ever with the tiniest travel buddy you could imagine.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
