Shirley

"Go ahead and pick two names, one for your baby, and one for that first postpartum poop."

Six days after having given birth to Hugo, one thing was left unfinished.

The first poop.

Now, throughout the week, I'd had some little poops here and there, but the real problem remained, and was going nowhere, fast. I'd tried stool softeners and suppositories and eating all sorts of high-fiber foods, and fruits and vegetables, and drinking different things. But nothing was working.

Disclaimer 1: This is a story of relieving postpartum constipation.

Disclaimer 2: This story is 99% true, and the 1% that's not is added so the story makes sense.

Saturday, June 27.

I had woken up to feed Hugo, who was in the process of starting to wake up. My mom was still with us, and my sister was still in town. 

The concoction of stool-altering medicines in my body was such:

• 3 Dulcolax stool softeners, daily (the max dosage)
• 1 Miralax stir-in powder, daily (the max dosage)
• 1 Dulcolax suppository, four hours prior to the beginning of the story (max dosage for one day)
• 5 orange-essence prunes (a serving)
• 5 oz of magnesium citrate with one full glass of water (half the dosage.. I was being cautious since I still needed to be available to feed Hugo when he needed)

So, there was a lot of stuff working inside of me.

Fifteen minutes after drinking the magnesium citrate, I started to feel some gurgles. "Yay!" I thought. 

This could be it.

I finished feeding Hugo, and handed him off to my mom to get changed and then asked them (my mom and my sister) to hang out in the back bedroom so I wouldn't hear if Hugo cried (so I could focus on the task at hand).

I went to the other side of the house, to our master bedroom, closed the bedroom door, then went to the master bathroom and closed that door. I also turned on the fan/vent for more noise reduction. (The kid has a surprisingly loud cry for someone who spent 4 hours in the NICU due to worries about his lungs).

And finally. I was pooping. There was a steady stream of not-super-watery-but-also-not-solid waste exiting my body, but I knew better. I knew the "cork" was still there- just being pushed around by the other waste.

(Side note, I can't believe I'm putting this on my blog, but I feel like if more people weren't ashamed of it, or embarrassed by it, I would have been more prepared in all the research I did for what to expect before, during and after giving birth).

So I'm feeling finished with this specific poo event. So I'm wiping, gently, because, you know.. I just gave birth.

Aaaaaand I clog the toilet. Normally this wouldn't have happened, because I would have been sure to do a courtesy flush, but the combination of the relief of having been able to "go," and the steps required to clean up the Downstairs Mix-Up after using the restroom distracted me.

So, I'm freaking out. Like "Oh crap. I have a toilet full of crap and bloody toilet paper and it's clogged." And suddenly, I'm pretty sure the cork is ready to start its journey.

So I run out into the living room, a hot, sweaty, screaming mess, and scream for Hubs to unclog that toilet in the fastest way he's ever done.

But he's using the guest bathroom.

And of course, I suddenly have to go. The cork waits for no man's plans.

I literally barged in on him using the restroom, throw a wad of toilet paper at him, screaming and crying for him to just get the hell out and that I'm sorry and that I love him and that this will never happen again, but that for right now, he needs to get the hell out of my way.

A terrified look upon his face told me he knew better than to ask questions.

I flush his bathroom effects, and sit down.

And I swear that all at once, I thought I was going to explode, implode, die and live all at the same time. I screamed a tiny, pathetic scream of pain, and I'm covered in sweat and tears, and somehow my hair is halfway out of its ponytail. But then, in a moment of calm, I call my mom.

My mom?! 

Yes, my mom. She came in, probably thinking I'd fallen over, or was about to pass out, or popped my stitches or was bleeding to death.

I introduced her to Shirley.

Gosh, I wish I was kidding about calling her in. But I felt she should meet her second grandchild.

So I flushed and continued expelling the contents of my bowels from the week. THE WEEK.

I came out of the bathroom to my mom, my sister, and Hubs sitting on the couch staring at me, confused and worried about what they'd just seen/heard/experienced.

I said, "I'm sorry that happened" then took a shower to clean off/feel human, and took a short nap (because Hugo was hungry again).

It's two weeks later, and I'm still taking the max dosage of stool softener and drinking half bottle of magnesium citrate per day. 

I will not become that sweaty, poopy monster again.


**Please note, that it was discovered one week after The Birth of Shirley, that the reason I was in so much excruciating pain through this entire process, is because in addition to the episiotomy, Hugo also broke my tailbone during his exit. Go figure, right?**

If you look closely you can see the line where my tailbone left a mark over his

right eye, through his hair. While the indentation is gone, a red line shows

up when he cries his big blood-curdling cries. 

The First Week

The first week at home with a newborn is kind of like trying to vacuum a room* while there is a tornado** ripping your house apart.

Our living room was rearranged the first time before Hugo even entered the house for the first time. Hubs came in while I was trying to get out of the car and re-situated all the furniture, moved the Pack-n-Play to the living room, got out burp cloths and blankets, and plugged in the night light into the plug near the front door. All before the child entered the house.

The next five days were similar in terms of living room reconstruction. It was like having a DIY renovation*** every day!

There are some details in this post that a friend of mine said "I can't believe you would share that on your blog! I could never." But I truly believe that if more people had shared it, and if more people felt like they could talk openly about it, I would have been more prepared. Let's just say it involves poop.. and not baby poop.

Anyways.

The first week. I'll summarize.

Baby: Poop; start to eat, but then poop; get changed; eat; sleep. Repeat.
Daddy: Eat; "sleep"; change diapers. Repeat.
MiMi: Eat; "sleep"; change diapers. Repeat.
Mommie: constant state of "What the hell have I done?" And also "Ouch."

We arrived home Sunday, June 21, around 7pm. The perfect time for sunset pictures in front of the house with new baby!

Note our new matching bracelets.

This day also happened to be Father's Day (and I have to admit, I'm going to have to work hard to top this Father's Day gift.. So will Hugo). Hubs' mom, DiDi, was kind enough to supply Olive Garden for the crew ("The Crew" consists of MiMi, DiDi, Sarah, Husband, Hugo, and myself) for our first dinner at home. Food was delish and Hugo slept right through it.

Then DiDi and Sarah left for the night, and Hugo woke up. This basically sums up the first overnight experience.

Monday, Uncle Brian came to visit! He wanted to meet Hugo so badly that he drove up from Birmingham after a 36-hour shift. He arrived, took a quick shower, and loved on Hugo. Then Hubs returned home with a glider and we put Brian to work building it. Then he rightfully took a 3 hour nap on the living room floor. (Hubs also napped on the floor, but only for about 1.5 hours instead of Brian's 3.) I was in a lot of pain and having a hard time sitting and getting comfortable. I showered and when I finished, I came out to crying hungry baby. Monday night, Hugo woke up.

June 22

Tuesday, we were supposed to have Hugo's newborn photos done, but I texted our photographers and friends over at Glass Jar Photography and begged them to reschedule, since Hugo was up all night, and so were the rest of us. Hugo had his first pediatrician appointment and he did so well! He'd lost some weight (5 lbs, 11 oz), and but otherwise was looking great. I had a hard time at the appointment, both because I couldn't sit comfortably for the ride in the car, but then also because I kept feeling the "urge to go." My pain continued when we got home. Turns out, I was constipated. Combine that with a real and valid fear of ripping stitches and not fully knowing or understanding the status of my Downstairs Mix-Up, I was in a bad place. Doubled over in constipation pain. My mom and Hubs went straight to work trying to find foods and medicines to help relieve my problem. Many (yummy, orange-essence) prunes were eaten. A lot of warm water with lemon juice was drank. Lots of regular water was consumed. All day, after feeding Hugo, I'd rush to the restroom and try to .. uh.. work things out. I'd always come back a defeated, hot and sweaty, crying mess. Unsuccessful, for lack of a better word. Tuesday night, Hugo woke up.

June 23

Wednesday was much the same, except without rescheduling the photographers. Pain from sitting, pain from constipation, feed baby, try to eat, try to sleep, try to stand. Wednesday night rolled around, and Hugo woke up, which was hard for me because I had been trying all day to find a good time to try a suppository. I ended up going for it in the middle of the night, hoping that between my mom and Hubs, Hugo would be cared for. Thankfully, they did work together with Hugo, and I had a long night trying to crap, feeling disgusting, drinking warm lemon water, and crying. Also note that since our bed is so high, I'd been sleeping on the couch (Hubs had been sleeping on the floor next to the Pack 'n' Play). No luck.

June 24

Thursday was a little different! We actually got his newborn photos done! The photographers were amazing, like we knew they would be (they did our engagement and wedding photos, after all), and Hugo did great too. I'm biased, but I'm pretty sure he's the most handsome baby. Aunt Mita (my sister) arrived Thursday afternoon to meet her first nephew and stay with us for a few days to get to know him. Little did she know she was entering a house of constant crying****, people covered in feces*****, and loud noises all night******. Thursday night, Hugo woke up, and I had another long night of trying different remedies, and becoming a big ball of sweat and tears. Foiled again.

June 25

Friday we had another pediatrician appointment for a weight check since his weight was a little lower than the doctor wanted at our previous appointment. His weight was much better (6 lbs, 1 oz. I'll go ahead and take all the credit for that), and I decided to man up and ask his pediatrician for advice regarding my situation. She recommended Miralax and mentioned another type of suppository. After getting back home with Hugo, Hubs went to the store to fetch the constipation goods. In the meantime, between and during feedings, I'd been texting my good friend Becca to ask her advice on the situation, and my good friend Meg (a nurse) for her suggestion for a colon cleansing. Becca's advice for working things out ended up being invaluable, and Meg suggested a certain drink to try. So I texted Hubs and asked him to pick up Magnesium Citrate along with the other items. The rest of the day went by like the previous five - in a haze of constipation and sitting pain, nursing, trying to eat and stay hydrated, and trying to find a moment to sleep, what with my my baby crying and my constant pain. Friday night, Hugo woke up. I decided to give up on trying to solve my bodily issues, and instead tried to get some sleep.

June 26

Saturday was a special day all its own, and as such, it deserves its own post.

Which will be up tomorrow.

Honorable Mentions:
Husband: for being constantly at the top of his game in washing baby dishes (pump gear and bottles), regular dishes, fetching food and medicines and other groceries, and most importantly, for not judging me in what I can only call a very dark time in my life.
My mom, MiMi: for doing all the laundry- both baby and adult; and basically teaching hubs and I what to actually do with a baby- like how to soothe one, or even bottle-feed one (I've been pumping enough milk for one bottle, so I can sleep through one at night); for helping me try to work out my internal issues with different ideas and research.
Becca, Meg, and Stephanie L: for not judging me when I texted them out of the blue about constipation, and for holding actual conversations about it and trying their best to help me through.
Hubs' Family: for supplying us with so much food and support the first week (and those following). They even came over one night, and we handed Hugo over to them, and Hubs and I napped. It was a glorious hour.
Aunt Mita: for not judging me for the sweaty, poop-deprived, hot, hormonal mess that I was.


* Replace "vacuum a room" with "eat, sleep, shower, breathe, change clothes, and talk to other adults" ** Replace "tornado" with ..well, actually "tornado" is accurate. Except it's a tiny almost-six-pound tornado that manages to rearrange your living room, your life, your schedule, and your world. Literally.
*** Replace "DIY renovation"with "pooping tornado who is completing the contract work."
**** I wish I could say it was just the baby,
***** Again, I wish I could say it was just the baby.
****** And again, I wish I could blame it on the baby.

A Labor of Love and Meeting New Friends, Part III

This post has two parts:
Part I: Hugo's visitors both at the hospital and in the following weeks at home
Part II: The love of Dr. C.

Part I:

Saturday we started getting visitors! A huge thanks to everyone who came to meet our sweet baby on his first full day of life.

In no particular order:

Aunt Sarah!

Papa and DiDi

MiMi

Pastor Eldridge

Hubs' boss, Alan, and his wife, Terry

Stephanie and her 4 week-old Greyson, Meg holding

Hugo, and Amanda and 6 month-old Gus

Amanda posing with Hugo

Zach 

Hugo, less than one day old

Greyson, 4 weeks old

Gus, 6 months old

Stephanie and Hugo

Nurse Brooke! Our hero.

Joe and Hugo

Other visitors:

Erica!

Uncle Brian!

Aunt Sydney!

Aunt Mita!

Part II:

I recently had a friend ask me if I was happy with our OB, after the whole labor and delivery process. Below is an edited quote from the text I sent back to her:

"I absolutely loved Dr. C. He might be my new man crush. We had a lot of issues and problems and Hugo showed signs of distress several different times, and then his heart rate dropped scary-low during delivery. During each event Dr. C would come in (or would have the nurse explain everything) and give us the run down of the situation and options, and fully let us decide what to do ("please just one more hour before making any big decisions"). He never pushed us to a c-section and never pressured the nurses to hurry things along. He doesn't usually deliver on Fridays but scheduled us for a Friday because he wanted to be there, knowing it would be a marathon labor and a potentially difficult delivery.

When it came time to push, he had to do an episiotomy, explained why in no uncertain detail, and only did it after I asked my questions and agreed.

(Oh and he let me sip on water between pushing contractions, which was amazing.)

The level of commitment he showed our family makes me want to cry in thankfulness. It was a hard pregnancy and a hard labor, but he never wavered or pushed us to do anything we didn't want to do.

I am 100% sure that if we had any other doctor, or whichever doctor was on-call that day, Hugo would have been delivered via c-section."

There are a lot of things that could have gone better or

been different with our pregnancy, labor, and delivery,

but I would never, ever change our choice of doctor.

Dr. C was the perfect fit for our family.

+++++

This ends part III

+++++

Honorable mentions:

Dr. C: for being an amazing doctor.

A Labor of Love (and Hardships), Part II

(Please note that I really have no reference of the actual times things happened)

Once the epidural took effect, the day got easier in terms of pain, but more complicated in terms of laboring. I was cold and shivering the rest of the day, never without at least three blankets over me, and often, with a heating pad in between them.

At first, I was allowed to lay however I wanted and just sort of relax. I slept a lot during this time. After a while, though, Reese came back in with another nurse to start "positioning" me. They got out what they called a "peanut," which was an exercise ball shaped like a peanut, and sat up the head of the bed, and had me mostly on my left side with my right leg propped up over the peanut. I was twisted like a pretzel. It took two nurses probably 20 minutes to achieve this position (I couldn't help because of the epidural). Hubs came out of the restroom to quite the sight.

Now Babykins really didn't like me being turned into a pretzel and went into distress. So the two nurses who'd worked so hard to get me situated rushed back in to untie me, and have me lie on my right side while Hugo stabilized.

After a while of cooperation, the monitors started to show rapid decelerations in Hugo's heart rate. Reese Witherspoon and Dr. C decided that it was likely being caused by the umbilical cord being compressed during the strong pitocin contractions. In order to combat this, Nurse Witherspoon did an amnioinfusion on me- a procedure in which she essentially put fluids back into my uterus in order to free the cord from its location where it was being compressed. At the same time, she installed internal fetal monitoring and internal contraction monitoring since we'd been having trouble all day keeping Hugo on the monitors. The pitocin drip was stopped temporarily to see if I would keep contracting on my own, and to allow Hugo to stabilize more, and I was put on oxygen.

Unfortunately, I didn't have contractions- or at least not the baby-having kind, so after a while, the pitocin was started again and I was taken off the oxygen.

Around this time, I started to get really hungry, after having not eaten since the evening before, and started to imagine all my ice chips as different foods: chicken nuggets, ice cream, Magnum bars, steak from my favorite Cuban restaurant in south Florida, and so on.

After some time, I was laid back on my left side and had my right leg propped back up on the peanut- but only my leg. They didn't twist me up this time.

Soon after, Dr. C came back in and checked me, declaring me roughly 7cm dilated, and he asked me to do a "test push." He didn't say whether my attempt at a push was good or bad, and that really stressed me out for the remainder of the labor.

From this time until I started pushing, I was in and out of sleep, and was going back and forth between crying and not. I started worry that when it came time to push, I wouldn't kow how to push, or that I would push ineffectively and would either wear myself out (after a long day of stress without food or water), or that I'd need a c-section.

Around 6:35 pm Dr. C came in to check me and yelled, "She's 10 +3!" This basically mean Hugo was about to crown and no one knew.

Dr. C asked if I was ready and if I had any questions...

My only question was, "Can I have water soon?"

Dr. C, my hero, said "Girl, you can sip on water now and between pushes. We're almost done."

That first sip was pure delight.

From there, everything went quickly.

The bed was turned into a table, and all my warm blankets were removed. I instantly started violently shivering, so Next-Shift-Nurse quickly ran and got me a warm blanket it put over my chest and stomach.

I started pushing at 6:45 pm.

Hubs held one leg, while New Nurse held the other. Reese stayed late with us and was helping Dr. C. During the contractions, I had two different counts that I was trying to push through. I ended up blanking them out and pushing as hard as I could until I needed to breath again.

Then Dr. C asked me, "Have you ever broken your tailbone?"

And I thought, "This is a really odd time for small talk," but I answered, "No."

If he replied to that, I didn't hear it.

Dr. C had to perform an episiotomy, and before he did, he told me he needed to and explained why, and answered my question- "will it hurt?" "You won't feel a thing." Go for it if you need to, then.

On the final push, Hugo's heart rate dropped scary low.

At 6:58 pm, a tiny human entered the world.

Hugo was born really gray with a really low heart rate, so Dr. C immediately started rubbing him to get him stimulated, pinked up, and crying.

Dr. C put him on my chest, and Hubs cut the cord.

The nurses brought him to the baby table, where Hugo's breathing was very labored. You could see his little rib cage with each breath and his nostrils were flaring, which meant he was working too hard.

The nurses used a little tube a few times, inserted into his mouth, and down into his stomach, to remove excess amniotic fluid. He was put on oxygen to make sure he was getting enough.

At one point, Hubs asked, "Can I touch him?" and the nurse was like, "sure! He's yours!"

Then they decided he had to go to the NICU for their better equipment and to make sure everything was OK.

They wrapped him up and brought him back to me, where we were able to take a few pictures before the nurses whisked him off to the NICU. I commanded Hubs to stay with him.

When Hubs came back, I was finished getting stitched and cleaned up, and we invited our parents in for a visit. I don't remember a lot of the visit because I kept falling asleep mid-conversation. Gimme a break! I just had a baby.

The family packed up the bags and brought them up to the Mother & Baby recovery room on the fifth floor, and I was loaded into the wheelchair to go see my baby in the NICU. His little NICU bassinet was a little too high for me to really get to see him from the wheelchair, but I could see enough to know where to put my finger for him to hold.

Then I was wheeled up to my room, and was made to try to use the restroom before being allowed to lie down/eat. This is also when I used the phrase "I think I forgot how to pee." I didn't realize it was an activity that I had ever necessarily learned to do, but I did seem to forget. (I remembered and pee'd successfully about an hour later.)

Friday night was filled with family and Hubs bringing them individually to the NICU to meet Hugo! Papa (Hubs' dad) fulfilled a tradition that has been in my family for some time, by gifting the new baby his first teddy bear. He gave it to me to open, and I cried.

Then Hubs and I shared a celebratory beer in fancy champagne glasses.

Shortly after, our family left for the evening, and Hubs and I were left to sleep and think about the huge life changes that were about to happen.. starting when they brought Hugo up from the NICU to try nursing for the first time.

A Labor of Love, Part 1

I didn't really have any intention of posting an epic labor story. You're heard it before- woman goes into labor, there's some pain, and some time later, a beautiful baby is born.

But mine didn't happen like that, because why would something so normal be the end cap to such an interesting* pregnancy?

I'm glad I am the person I am, and that I have the personality and general outlook that I do, because if I were anyone else, the pregnancy may have been the end of me. And then the labor probably would have pushed me over the edge.

--This birth story will be broken into two parts, this one, which will cover the uncomplicated hours, and then one that will be posted tomorrow, which will cover the complicated hours. There is a bonus third section to be posted in two days that will cover our visitors and our doctor--

Due to the cholestasis, we had a planned induction to bring Hugo into the world. Hubs and I (and our moms and Sarah) arrived to the hospital around 8pm on Thursday, June 18 to get checked in and start the induction process.

Thankfully, we have a good friend who is an L&D nurse there, and while she wasn't with us throughout the process, she did hook us up with some amazing perks- for example, our nurse all day on Friday was Reese Witherspoon**! Brooke hooked us up with a beautiful L&D room, with a nice view and plenty of windows. Brooke also wrote us a sweet note to welcome Hugo into the world and encourage Hubs and I through the process. (And gave us candy that I wasn't supposed to have.)

The induction process started out with the official Signing of the Paperwork, getting my IV placed, and getting the initiating medicine inserted. Yes. "Inserted." Two notes on this:

1. No offense to my male friends, but whichever man invented the application concept for the drug Cervadil was an ass-hat.
2. I know it wasn't a woman inventor because no woman would purposefully invent something that has to be inserted vaginally to have CORNERS. Sharp corners.

Anyways, the Cervadil was inserted and I was instructed to lie flat for the following two hours to allow it to adhere and start its magic. The medicine is supposed to soften and ripen the cervix, and hopefully cause dilation and contractions to begin. I did start having contractions, but they were small and weren't effective at their job (opening the cervix).

Friday morning, I got up to pee (gimme a break, I was still 37 weeks pregnant), and when I came out, Dr. C was chatting with Hubs. He asked me to lie down so he could check my progress. Fair. Then he's all:
"Ok now I'm gonna break your water."
And I'm all "whoa whoa whoa! I thought we were going to talk about these things first!"
Dr. C said, "Well I just talked it over with Hubs***."
So I'm not sure if it was in my head or out loud, but some part of me said, "Hubs doesn't have the vagina, so from now on we talk to me about what happens in this one."

So he broke my water, which was a wildly unpleasant experience since my cervix was still so high and mostly closed. It hurt. I cried. I focused on a picture hanging on the wall over the bed that I still don't remember ever seeing upright.

There was no meconium! Man, it's gonna be a great and easy day.

Then the real beast started. Pitocin. The mother of all contraction- and dilation-inducers. At first it was ok, and I was handling it well, but it was hurting my back so bad while I lied in the hospital bed (my back always hurts in hospital beds.. they're so uncomfortable and bend and curve in funny places).

So I asked Reese Witherspoon for a birthing ball, a request she quickly made reality. She got it all set up, and got me all set up with the hospital thunder pad and mesh undies. I got out of the bed and survived what felt like one million hours**** of rough contractions on the birthing ball, with Hubs squeezing my hips together during each one. Nothing else helped as much as Hubs squeezing the ever-living mess out of my hips. Well, the warm cherry-pit thing on my neck was nice, and my ice chips made me not want to die.

At this point I was still delusional enough to think I was doing ok, and decided that we could have one visitor at a time. So our parents came in one at a time to check in on us, and in some cases, annoy me. Everything was going well until Hubs' dad decided to try to teach me how to breathe. In the middle of a contraction. This didn't go over well, and I yelled at him and kicked him out. Sorry Tom. As an aside, though, I am proud to say that this was the only time I lost my temper or yelled at anyone the entire time. Though I feel bad that it was at my father-in-law.

After kicking him out, I realized visiting hours were over for our room, and I endured three strong, close contractions that I couldn't breathe through. These were when I decided I needed the epidural to get through the rest of the day. Not breathing through contractions isn't only bad for me, but is bad for Hugo as well, and we needed him to be as safe and healthy as possible in order to get through the rest of the labor marathon.

The next time Reese Witherspoon came in, I asked (begged?) through tears and contractions for the epidural. She said I had to finish the current bag of fluids, and so I endured another 30 or so minutes of mind-bendingly painful contractions before Dr. B came in with the rolling cart of magic.

Dr. B asked Sarah to leave, because for some reason only one person was allowed in the room with me (not counting Nurse Witherspoon). Sarah said she didn't like him much, but I did. After explaining my fear of needles, he was really kind and receptive to all my questions and requests. But getting into position to receive the epidural was a doozy.

I had to dismount the ball, and sit on the edge of the bed, with my legs dangling. Once Dr. B got my bottom into the correct position, I was instructed to sit Indian-style. It was not an easy feat to pull my legs up into that position during contractions. I was told to arch my back and lean all my weight into Hubs' chest, and Hubs was instructed to not touch my back as it was now a "sterile environment" and instead he squeezed my shoulders during contractions and played with my hair between them.

Dr. B did as I asked and told me everything he was going to do before he did it. He announced he was going to give me a shot to numb the area (it seems to me that there should be a numbing step BEFORE this one. Like.. maybe use some sort of topical treatment to numb the skin and the nearest 3" inside the body. And then use the needle.). I screamed bloody murder. The shot hurt. I worried that I'd made a big mistake and that I'd just made everything worse. After that shot though, I didn't feel the next few steps so I was reassured that I didn't just screw myself over.

I was instructed to lie flat to let the epidural take effect evenly on both sides of my body, and during this time, I played a fun game that I just named: Let's Touch Body Parts and See If I Can Feel It. I couldn't.

+++++

This is the end of Part I: the uncomplicated hours.

Stay tuned for fun*****.

+++++

Honorable Mentions:
Husband: for supporting and encouraging me throughout the entire day. For squeezing my hips with all the force in his hands and knees. For helping me through contractions, even from behind the closed door of the restroom. For paging Reese at my whim. For knowing what to say between contractions to keep me going. For keeping my ice chip cup full, and feeding me ice chips, even though at this point I was still able to do it myself
Sarah: for taking pictures and being present for the entire birth event. For helping Hubs and I with questions, and noticing things that we didn't. For being an active participant of the day. For keeping the ice chip cup full, and allowing me to smell her donuts. For finding the microwave to keep reheating the cherry pit neck thing.
Reese Witherspoon: for being an amazing nurse and supporting us all day. For explaining everything she was doing, and any reasoning behind it. For not trying to hurry us along. For being awesome, even though she was the one who kept increasing the Pitocin.
Brooke: for an amazing L&D room. For two amazing L&D nurses. For coming to visit during the day. For the candy. For the note welcoming Hugo into the world.

* Here I use the word "interesting" to mask my true feelings
** Actually, our nurse's name was Amy, but she looked EXACTLY like Reese Witherspoon
*** Dr. C did not call Hubs, "Hubs"
**** It was actually like an hour and a half
***** Not fun

2 Weeks of Hugo

Now that half of Hugo's first month has passed by, I thought it was finally time to take a spare moment (in the middle of the night while I listen alertly for his sounds of hunger) to introduce him to my few readers.

I'm still trying to remember all the details from our labor story, and I'm failing pretty badly at it, but let's just say that labor went about as well as pregnancy, and even the delivery has left me with an unforeseen complication.

Life with Hugo has been difficult and trying, and has made my Google search history absolutely ridiculous, but I wouldn't go back to life two weeks ago, And I certainly wouldn't go back to life before I was pregnant.

How could I resist this beautiful face?