Welcoming GIII

First, let me start by saying that these past few months have been long and frightening. While I knew that going in, I didn't realize just how scared I would be. There was the threatened miscarriage at the beginning. The inital loss of my mucos plug at 18 weeks. Being diagnosed with a short cervix at 24 weeks. And every little thing that felt odd set me off - and when you're on rest and asked to count kicks every hour, it's hard not to notice a million things that don't feel quite right.

So with all that said, I honestly thought that if my son was born and given a clean bill of health, my fears would subside and I could start my life as a new Mom again. Sure, I'm not as nervous as I was the first time around. I was absolutely wired for G Jr's first 9 months of life. But with GIII, I have a whole different set of fears along with the new Mommy jitters, some of which may seem unfounded to others, but are quite real to me.

Wednesday of last week, I had abdominal cramps that came and went at regular intervals for a few hours. Thursday, it was back cramps. But Friday, into Saturday morning, it was real and true contractions. Considering the teasing my uterus gave me the past two days, I didn't take these contractions 100% seriously, even after they got worse. I stayed awake, but only after a while. Made something to eat, read a magazine, and when they got really bad, I took a hot bath to try and relax.

That didn't work. About 5 minutes after getting into the tub, the water started to turn red. I stood up and a small trickle of blood flowed down my leg. Then the contractions set in like they have for me in the past - 1 to 1 and a half minutes in length, 30 seconds apart, if I got a break at all. Found the only pad I could in the house, got partially dressed, sat down in my bedroom and woke Gunther up. He and G Jr. were ready long before I could muster the energy to move. Finished getting dressed, spent the time walking to the car and the drive there reassuring G Jr. that Mommy's alright, and got to L&D where things went at record speed.

I think at most, there were 4 nurses, 1 lab technician, and the OBGYN on call at my bedside after my inital assessment. Regardless of how far into labour I was (I don't even know how far I was dialated, if at all), my placenta was abrupting because of it. They told Gunther to find someone to watch G Jr. (which he did, bringing him to a friend's house) and get back as soon as possible or they would start without him. All I can say is that I hope there wasn't any photo radars set up on 91st.

Prepped, got the ever wonderful spinal block, and had the curtain put in place (which drooped over my face) by the time Gunther was brought in. Last minute blood test (I couldn't remember my blood type), and before I knew it, they were delivering my baby.

GIII entered this world at 8:15 am, Saturday, August 18th, weighing in at 5 lbs 7 oz and measuring nearly 19 inches long. He also didn't sound too thrilled about being taken out of his warm home and into the cold operating room. Then, it was a brief stay in the nursery for him for monitoring, and Mommy got stapled shut and brought to recovery.

Day 1 went relatively well. GIII, who they expected to spend 24 hours in the Premature Nursery, was discharged with flying colors and brought to my side in less than 12 hours. And although my nurse advised against it, I was up and walking after 8 hours. Finally had "real" food the next morning (if you count anything served in the hospital as real food.) So, all good. Day 2 started off the same way. Since I was healing well, there was no real need to keep me much longer. Now it was all GIII. First was the carseat test. Since he's smaller than they would like him to be, they needed to check to see how he faired in a carseat for an hour and a half. Back down to the nursery where they hooked him up to a bunch of monitors, strapped him in, and let him nap in there for 90 minutes. He passed (no shock there). And then there was the elevated bilireubin levels. GIII was a tad jaundiced. No shock there either, it's a common issue, particularly with premees. So he would have to spend the night under a blue light to help break it down. I was fine with that idea, until I saw how they were going to do it.

Gunther, GIII and I got back to my room after the carseat test to find a neonatal isolet at the end of my bed. You could have zapped me with jumper cables and I wouldn't have noticed. A damned incubator, just like the one Menerva Jr. spent her short life in. I couldn't help it, I began to cry. It hurt to see one of those things, especially with GIII in it. And it got no better during the night. The nurses tried to see if the nursery could take him so I could calm down, but they were full (and the neonatologist pretty much told me to "suck it up, princess"). Let's just say that my reaction to it was so bad that my OBGYN perscribed me anti-anxiety meds, just in case. That's right, my crotch doctor gave me something for my head. That's gotta say something (like "fuck you, asshat" to that neonatologist).

GIII spent 2 days under that light. And I spent two days bawling, hyperventilating and awake. With Menerva Jr., I had to associate the bad things with stuff I could leave behind. That pain is still too fresh.

Between Gunther and my Mom, they would like to throttle a number of the staff at the hospital for how they treated us after GIII began his light therapy. Gunther firmly believes that they have screwed my chances of rest and my Mom (a nurse herself) swears that their actions will greatly affect how long and how well I recover. I have to agree with them. Which is why I'm hoping I'm back in Sudbury when K has her baby, because I will not let her suffer like that. Gunther had no choice but to go home and watch G Jr. If I have to, I will stay with K in the hospital somehow.

But, we're home now. GIII got a clean bill of health and we were on our way so fast I'm sure I burnt rubber off the soles of my boots as I went. And there are no incubators here, just your typical baby stuff, which shouldn't trigger any horrible memories. And we're doing alright. GIII's got his days and nights mixed up and isn't the easiest to burp, which causes him to have bouts of tummy paid that heeps him up and squaking unless he's being held and bounced about. Gunther and I are a lot more calm this time around. Not much could bring a bigger smile to my face than watching Gunther talk to and hold his little boy. And G Jr. is a proud big brother whi is just absolutely amazed with how small and cute his baby brother is. It's quite entertaining to watch G Jr. make silly faces for GIII (every now and then, GIII gives him a "fart grin", which G Jr. interprets as his brother showing pleasure for the display and not that he's got gas. So far, it's all good.

And by the gods, I hope it stays that way.