Motherhood can be gross

Well, it hasn't been the easiest few days, but we've survived so far. GIII still has his days and nights mixed up, but there's not a lot of difference between his days and nights. I swear, he sleeps 20 hours a day and we have to wake him up for feedings (and it's a battle to get him to wake up too - cold washclothes and laying in his bed in his diaper still don't wake him up quick). But his wakeful periods are somewhere between 2 and 6 am, so I'm still suffering from sleep deprivation, among other things.

Like postpartum sweating. Gosh, I don't remember sweating like this with G Jr, and I had a load more fluid to get rid of thanks to being bloated from 2.5 days on an IV. At least it doesn't stink, but it's been a pain sleeping. It's cooled off enough to sleep with blankets, but if I cover up, I end up drenched. And if I take the blankets off, I freeze... Lovely, eh?

Then there's the chest cold I ended up getting. I've been snotty and coughing and wheezing since coming out of the hospital. It started off as a sinus cold, and I'm not sure what's better. Coughing phlem or having my eyeballs feel like they're going to drain out of my head with all the snot. Either way, it's not a pretty sight.

Lastly, the c-section... At least this time they did a damned good job putting me back together. If I was in the same pain I was after G Jr's c-section, I'd have shot myself after the chest cold started. Coughing nearly put me into tears for 4 weeks. This time, I'm a lot more mobile and in a lot less pain. And things were fine until yesterday when a hard and raised section of my incision popped... Fluid buildup. I thought Gunther was going to toss his cookies on me when I asked him to take a look at it for me (since I'm too short to see my lower abdomen in the mirror in the bathroom). So yay, a round of antibiotics started... Joy.

But all in all things are going well. GIII's doing good, even if he spends most of his time sleeping. Wish I could get away with that, but G Jr's out of daycare starting Monday... Can't afford to be on maternity leave and keep him in daycare. That one's bugging me, not because I want to be rid of the oldest during the day, but because he enjoys it so much. *Sigh*

And we're still working on the move to Sudbury. Still have too much stuff to do before we can do that, but it's still going to happen. And still before this winter hopefully.

1 of the three things my little GIII does (you can guess the other 2)

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.

Well, I guess we can stop counting now...

More later, but I'm a proud Mommy again.

GIII was born at 8:15 on Saturday, August 18 at 35 weeks, 6 days gestation. He weighed in at 5 lbs 7 oz and nearly 19 inches long. Right now, he's sleeping, and I should follow his lead.

The tummy that cried wolf

All day yesterday, my abdomen cramped up at irregular intervals. Nothing painful - just a somewhat uncomfortable clenching, kind of akin to really bad gas without the bloating. And it didn't seem to matter what I did. If I stood up, I'd cramp. Sit down? Cramp. Eat - cramp. Lie down - cramp. Do nothing whatsoever and just veg on the couch - cramp. So to hell with that, and since I've had my restrictions somewhat lifted, I took it upon myself to take a little walk when Gunther took the dog out. Just once, halfway around the block. And guess what? The cramps stopped.

Go figure.

Until I went to bed that is. That's when they like to come the most. Just as I'm trying to get comfortable and go to sleep for the night. I can nap during the day unaffected (save for the fact that everyone and their damned dog either calls me or makes a ruckus outside, and it's usually too warm for a good long sleep), but at night? Nope. And poor Gunther, I know he wakes up most times I do just because he knows I've gotten out of bed (even though we have one of those "independant pocket coil" mattresses that are supposed to prevent one person's movements from bothering the other) or I just can't take the being awake anymore and turn on the computer to check out the news or something and the light from the monitor stirs him. He usually just asks if everything's alright and when I answer "yeah, just (insert reason here)", he goes back to sleep, leaving me to eat my antacid and read up on the latest stupid thing the government's been up to.

Well, I swear, the moment I got the idea in my head that I was going to go to bed shortly, my stomach decided to clench on and off. I was playing World of Warcraft at the time, and telling a friend of mine that if this keeps up, I won't believe I'm in labour until GIII's waving at me from the excape hatch. Logged off shortly there after, curlled up in bed beside Gunther with my body pillow, and *cramp*... Ooookay, ignore it, try to sleep.

*Cramp*

I'm ignoring you. Time for sleep now.

*Cramp* and this time with mild pain wrapping from my back to my front.

Hmm... That's different.

Well, my stomach kept up that routine from 11:30 at night till 3:00 this morning. Just annoying enough to keep me awake. Every now and then, it would also send a shooting pain from my hips straight along my pelvic bone, just to change things up. They weren't horribly painful. Can't say that they tickled, but I could have slept through them if I wasn't so interested in seeing where things were going. And like labour, they picked up in intensity and duration up until 3 this morning and then...

Stopped. Completely. Just.stopped.dead.

Of course, the entire time GIII's doing his rendition of Stomp (normal for him late at night), so I wasn't concerned that he was being negatively affected by any of this, but I was then wired. Is it really happening? Now? What should I pack if things do progress? (Yeah, don't have bags set up yet.) I wasn't about to go rushing my ass to the hospital at the slightest twinge. Considering the incompitence the last time, plus the fact that my OBGYN has told me that they're not going to stop labour this time, there's no point in going in early. Might as well stick around at home until I have to go. So I lied in bed, wondering if things were progressing, just to have one helluvan anticlimatic experience that kept me up for another 30 minutes after that, just wondering what the fuck happened?

Then, wake up at 4:00 with heartburn (GIII's Stomp rendition included my stomach I guess). Then again at 6:00. Then again at 7:00... So I'm bloody tired.

And guess what? We've gone back to the non-painful tightening (and GIII's now doing a soft shoe dance instead of his more active performance of this past night, so I know he's still doing alright but damn, figures, he gets to sleep). And I'm supposed to be working right now (still working from home, loving that part). If it wasn't for the fact that I'm a touch typist, I'd never have made it this far in this posting cause I can't see straight thanks to being horribly drowsy. Good thing I don't have to drive anywhere. So, for my lunch break I'm taking a nap, and if the contractions resume when I lie back down, I'll be tempted to go in after the kid with a can opener. Like my Grandfather used to say, "shit or get off the pot." Crude, vulgar, but makes sense. Get it over and done with, or stop wasting my time and sanity. It's not like I'm not anxious enough to meet the little guy as is.

35

Another week down. Slowly getting closer to GIII's birthday. And I've still got a lot of work to do. Not necessairly to get ready for his arrival - I just need to do a bit of laundry for that and make a run to the store for diapers and wipes. But I mean packing the house. Cause the moment we can move across country with him, we're going. Especially after yesterday, when no conscious 11 year old neighbour boy decided to pull a knife on 9 year old boy of friends of ours in what started as a shouting match over picking on each other's siblings. G Jr. is NEVER playing with ANY of the neighbour's kids EVER AGAIN! And he's not going to be outside if they are either. And that's fucking sad that I have to do this in my own fucking home, but since H (the 4 year old G Jr. used to play with), aside from being a backtalking twit that G Jr. has learned too many bad habits from already, emulates her brother? What other choice do I have?

Yeah, like we'll be psycho family free in Sudbury. I'm sure there's a fair number of insane gene pools in that area too, but hopefully we'll be able to screen the neighbours before we settle on a house. I just can't take much more of them. If I caught G Jr. doing anything of the sort that happened yesterday, he'd not see the outside of his bedroom for a month. Yet, what does the boy's dad do to punish him? Lets him loose in the back yard with power tools to help finish their deck, something he enjoys doing!!!!! Where as our friend's kid, who didn't start it but should have walked away, has lost his TV privelages for a week and isn't allowed to go outside of his own properity, nor have his friends over for his part in the fight and for not walking away. Our friends' kids, aside from being typical for their ages, are well behaved. Mom and Dad say come in, it's time for bed, and yeah they may whine for a bit but they head in the house. They say please and thank you. They ask for permission before doing things. You know, stuff you'd expect from well raised kids. As for the neighbours... I don't want to find out the full extent of carpel tunnel syndrome in order to write out the huge stain they've made on the human gene pool, but believe me, there is nothing polite or civilized about the lot of them.

After that incident yesterday (Gunther was keeping an eye on them from the window, not wanting to intervein unless necessary cause lets face it, kids will bicker and argue regardless), I have a new found respect for my parents moving our family to the middle of nowhere when we were kids. Sure, we had idiot kids near by. But there was something about not having to see or hear them when in your own back yard. And if that didn't detour the twits, the company of canines we kept did. Dobermans and rottweilers, albeit sweet and friendly (anyone who says Angel was otherwise did NOT know my pup-pup) incited enough fear in others for them to mind their P's and Q's when on the properity. I don't think that was the intent my parents had when they got our first "mean" dog Beau. She was just a sweetheart and my parents wanted something that was not only beautiful and elegant, but was intelligent (and boy did they get that with her). But still, I remember well that the twerp kids in the area wouldn't come over to play if Beau was in the yard (and I do remember my Mom saying "No, Beau wants to play with you and your sister, she's not coming in and you're not leaving the yard"... I'm sure that was her intent to keep the neighbourhood kids at bay from time to time). Apollo doesn't incite the same fear... Maybe I should get a rottie... Wonder if my Mom will lend me hers?

*Sigh* Just waiting for September to get here... And then, for the house to be sold. Not putting it up until after GIII's born. So now I've got another reason to want it to happen sooner than later.

34

So, I've made it to the biggest milestone yet - 34 weeks. If GIII is born anytime now, there's a good chance he'll be able to come home with me in a few days after birth. And it's getting to that point where I wish I could evict the little guy from my belly. Don't get me wrong - I'm not about to go doing every wives' tale out there to start labour early. He can stay in there as long as need be. But if he's ready to come out with no harm or affect to him short or long term in any way, then geeze, get out please!

I don't remember things being like this with G Jr. He prefered to stay curlled up in a ball until he was born, and then he decided to stretch out. GIII is constantly stretching. I actually have bruises on the top of my abdomen by my rib cage where he's been stretching his legs out to. And waking up 2 times a night to chew a bunch of rolaids is getting to be an old joke. When he isn't trying to kick my boobs (I swear, he's going to hit them soon enough), he's trying to rearrange my supper. Thanks to the heat as of late, I haven't eaten a full meal in a long time. Just been snacking and having small meals instead. But its getting annoying when you're in the middle of having a sandwich and after 3 bites, you feel full cause someone's decided to put his feet where your lunch should be.

And this time, his wiggles and stretches hurt. With G Jr, it was just cute to watch. With GIII, I feel like he's wearing stelleto heels while doing his acrobats. I never thought it was supposed to be painful. At least not for me, with my extra padding. Mind you, it could be much worse... So I guess I can put up with another few weeks. It's just beginning to feel like forever.