Before I went into labor, I thought the hardest part would be the labor, and the hospital stay would be a breeze.
WRONG
Turns out labor is the easy part. Why? There are a few reasons:
A) Ibby was a little tiny baby and I felt like if I held him wrong I would break him.
B) I hated my room and the nurse that was attending to me. She was mean. And she wore a steelers jersey. Enough said.
C) Breastfeeding is hard.
When they roll you from labor and delivery to your room, it feels like your walking down the red carpet at some award show. Everyone looks at you and admires your baby. Now when I think of it, Ibrahim looked pretty much like every other baby at that hospital, so maybe those nurses exxagerated a bit, but it made me feel like I had the cutest baby in the world mA. ( And as a matter a fact, I do, so maybe those nurses were on to something.)
I got to my room around 8 AM. When I say room, I mean a tiny little box that barely fit my bed and a chair. I could barely fit in the bathroom. They dropped me off with the baby and left. The hubby had to leave to go get my family from the airport.
Ibby just slept most of the day, but when he was awake, it was the ultimate latching battle. Getting a newborn to latch on correctly to nurse is super hard. It was for me anyways. I had to feed him every 2.5 hours, and by the time I'd finally feed him, it was almost time to feed him again. I spent most of the time trying to keep him awake. The mean nurse kept telling me to strip him down to his diaper, but I was worried he'd get too cold.
After that, my mom came with my bro and sis. It was a relief to finally have my mom there. I wanted to just leave the hospital and go home. That night, after everyone had left, I was getting ready to settle for the night when the nurse comes in and informs us we had to change rooms. I got really annoyed and didn't feel like packing everything up and going, but they had to do construction on the floor above us. So we moved to a different floor on the hospital.
THANK god they moved us! The room was twice as big, and the nurses were sooo nice and helpful. The next day was alot better because I had help from the nurses.
Around midnight on the 2nd night, I decided to change Ibbys diaper. I took off his diaper and he greeted me with a spray of liquid. And he peed, and peed and peed. It would NOT stop. I kept trying to cover it with a diaper and he ended up spraying me and his bed. Frantically, I pulled the emergency cord. The nurse came running in.
"Whats wrong?"
I started crying, " He PEED EVERYWHERE!"
I had mini nervous breakdown, and the nurse calmly cleaned him up and his bed. She told me it wasn't a big deal. Little did I know that Ibby would continue to spray me occasionally when I change his diaper, but now I'm prepared with a battle plan. I'm probably the quickest diaper changer in the world now.
When I finally got home, It was a relief. It felt nice to be home around all my things and cute baby stuff I had spent hours organizing and folding and washing. Within hours all organization ceased and I was frantically throwing things around, trying to find onsies, towels, and other things I needed buried in things that I'd probably never use. He spent all day sleeping, and I'd wake him up every 2.5 hours to feed him. That night, we had some kabobs for dinner, and some of them were spicy. I didn't think it was a big deal, and I ate some.
big mistake.
Ibby didn't sleep a wink that night. To top off our already difficult nursing sessions, the spicy food gave him INSANE gas. He cried non stop till 4 AM. When He FINALLLY fell asleep I had to wake up him an hour later to feed him. Lesson learned. To this day I do not touch spicy food.
A few nights later, I started having chills. I thought it was nothing, I was just tired. Then, I woke up with a full blown fever and I felt like someone had hit me with a truck. I diagnosed myself with the flu. I refused to take the flu shot when I was pregnant, and spent all of flu season avoiding people and drowning my hands in hand sanitizer. Right after I had the baby I got the flu shot, but much to my dismay I caught it. I wore surgery masks the rest of the day whenever I nursed him and handed him off to my mom or hubby to change and burp. I was incapable of doing anything else. The fever, exhaustion, and achiness knocked me out. Breastfeeding had turned into a nightmare. Nursing became excruciatingly painful. I called my doctor and she diagnosed me with Mastitis, which is a breast infection you get if your baby doesn't latch on correctly. I spent 4 days in a haze, and took as much tylenol and motrin as possible in order to be able to nurse him. I finally felt better after a few days.
At the hospital, Ibby had a semi high bilirubin level, but it wasn't anything worrisome. He become even more jaundiced when we got home, and we had to get his levels checked out. Thankfully, they weren't that high, but the jaundice made him sleepy for about two . So the first two weeks, he literally just ate and slept. It was pretty easy. After my mom left, he decided hey, I need to make up for all the crying I missed out on those two weeks.
The week I spent alone without my mom was extremely hard. I had no idea what to do with him. I wanted to call 911 everytime he coughed. The idea of bathing him terrified me. And he decided that he didn't want to sleep anymore at night. I analyzed his poop color millions of times to see if maybe he was just lactose intolerant,and that was why he suddenly became so fussy. I probably cried more that week then he did. Thankfully, my mother in law came, and helped me. If it wasn't for her Ibby would have a bald mom right now.
After my MIL left we seemed to get the hang of things. True, he didn't sleep that much at night, but we were in a comfortable routine, and I was able to function during the day alone with him.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Pure Michigan Ad Ain't got Nothing on This
This is what used to pop into my head before I got married about Michigan:
We all know Dearborn. The flocks of Arabs that migrate to Dearborn every year to buy groceries, eat mezza at Ajami and buy boxes and boxes of dessert from Shatila to give their neighbors and to gorge on during the late nights of Ramadan. Dearborn is the Arab foodies paradise. Enough said.
Abandoned buildings. Detroit is full of these. The dying city of the Midwest.
Fun weddings. Look at how much fun that groom is having. Detroit has a huge wedding industry thanks to all the Arabs. Belly dancers, huge halls, arab djs, the works. Plus theirs like 50,000 Arabs living there, so you will have tons of people you barely know at your wedding doing dabke like there is no tomorrow.
Obviously, I didn't know much about Michigan. When my husband told me we were going to go on a two day trip to northern Michigan, I thought to myself, what the freak is there to do up there? Did they convert an abandoned building to a hotel? Are we going to get robbed? Or better yet, am I just going to wander around state parks looking at trees and stay at some motel on the side of the highway? ( I am not a nature nor motel person.)
Turned out I was wrong! There's lots of things to do in Michigan, or Pure Michigan as the ads like to tell us.
There is a beautiful park called Sleeping Bear. It has these amazing sand dunes on the lake. It was really nice to walk around and look at the sites and all the people trying to climb up the sand dunes.
Theres an Island called Mackinaw Island where old people ride bikes like these.
There's an old fort where people dress up like soldiers. They probably think they are soldiers.
Michigan also has creepy exhibits about vaccines.
All in all, I had a ton of fun. Northern Michigan is beautiful, and Traverse City has the best Chai Latte I've ever had in my life. Go there. But not in the winter, because everything will be covered in 10 feet of snow.
We all know Dearborn. The flocks of Arabs that migrate to Dearborn every year to buy groceries, eat mezza at Ajami and buy boxes and boxes of dessert from Shatila to give their neighbors and to gorge on during the late nights of Ramadan. Dearborn is the Arab foodies paradise. Enough said.
Abandoned buildings. Detroit is full of these. The dying city of the Midwest.
Fun weddings. Look at how much fun that groom is having. Detroit has a huge wedding industry thanks to all the Arabs. Belly dancers, huge halls, arab djs, the works. Plus theirs like 50,000 Arabs living there, so you will have tons of people you barely know at your wedding doing dabke like there is no tomorrow.
Obviously, I didn't know much about Michigan. When my husband told me we were going to go on a two day trip to northern Michigan, I thought to myself, what the freak is there to do up there? Did they convert an abandoned building to a hotel? Are we going to get robbed? Or better yet, am I just going to wander around state parks looking at trees and stay at some motel on the side of the highway? ( I am not a nature nor motel person.)
Turned out I was wrong! There's lots of things to do in Michigan, or Pure Michigan as the ads like to tell us.
 | ||||
| We had a sleeping bear in our car. |
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Never Say Never
When I was pregnant, I came up with a list of things I would never do as a mother. I was going to be different, not take the easy way out, and have an exceptional child. Hopefully Ibby will still be exceptional, but I've pretty much done everything I said I wouldn't do.
1) I won't clutter my life with baby stuff.
When I first moved into my apartment, I spent DAYS meticulously decorating it. I loved my loft, and I still do. I wanted to go for a modern/ shabby chic feel. I browsed online for hours getting ideas. I picked out a color palette that I had throughout the apartment. I was impressed when I was finally done. When I found out I was pregnant, I vowed I wouldn't ruin my decor. I would have the bare minimum of baby stuff. 6 months after Ibby's arrival:
This is only about 25% of my clutter. I have every baby gadget on the market. Amazon prime has been the downfall of me. Those sleepless nights of desperately trying to put him to sleep has ended up with me buying a lot of things I don't really need, even though the 5 star rating and the 100 comments about how I can't live without this item convinced me I did. I could probably start a daycare with all the baby stuff I have.
2) I will not have a clingy baby.
I used to see babies that would scream their heads off when their moms would leave the room. "I'm never going to be like that, my baby is going to be independent." How independent can you make your baby when you spend every waking hour with them? When you find the answer to that, please let me know. If I leave Ibby's line of vision, he releases sirens louder then any ambulance I've ever heard. It was cute in the beginning, but now its embarrassing when I'm visiting the in laws and he has a melt down when I leave the room.
3) My baby will sleep alone in his own room.
This one went out the window day 1. It's bad enough nursing him 50,000 times a night, but to have to get out of bed and go into another room was out of the question. Ibrahim has a lovely crib, but hes yet to use it. That's our project we're working on right now, getting Ibrahim to sleep in his own room. I would love to be able to read a book before bed or have a conversation with the hubby. Instead we tiptoe around and are scared to roll over in bed in fear of awakening the sleeping bear ( that's his new nickname.)
5) I will not use a swing to put my baby to sleep.
Refer to the picture above, and you will notice not 1 but 2 swings. I also have a bouncy chair. Ibby refuses to nap unless he swings to sleep, and I have learned to live with that. Thank you Graco for making my life a little bit easier.
Well, the sleeping bear has arisen, and I must go tend to him. All the future mommies out there. don't make lists and set yourself up for disappointments!! =)
1) I won't clutter my life with baby stuff.
When I first moved into my apartment, I spent DAYS meticulously decorating it. I loved my loft, and I still do. I wanted to go for a modern/ shabby chic feel. I browsed online for hours getting ideas. I picked out a color palette that I had throughout the apartment. I was impressed when I was finally done. When I found out I was pregnant, I vowed I wouldn't ruin my decor. I would have the bare minimum of baby stuff. 6 months after Ibby's arrival:
This is only about 25% of my clutter. I have every baby gadget on the market. Amazon prime has been the downfall of me. Those sleepless nights of desperately trying to put him to sleep has ended up with me buying a lot of things I don't really need, even though the 5 star rating and the 100 comments about how I can't live without this item convinced me I did. I could probably start a daycare with all the baby stuff I have.
2) I will not have a clingy baby.
I used to see babies that would scream their heads off when their moms would leave the room. "I'm never going to be like that, my baby is going to be independent." How independent can you make your baby when you spend every waking hour with them? When you find the answer to that, please let me know. If I leave Ibby's line of vision, he releases sirens louder then any ambulance I've ever heard. It was cute in the beginning, but now its embarrassing when I'm visiting the in laws and he has a melt down when I leave the room.
3) My baby will sleep alone in his own room.
This one went out the window day 1. It's bad enough nursing him 50,000 times a night, but to have to get out of bed and go into another room was out of the question. Ibrahim has a lovely crib, but hes yet to use it. That's our project we're working on right now, getting Ibrahim to sleep in his own room. I would love to be able to read a book before bed or have a conversation with the hubby. Instead we tiptoe around and are scared to roll over in bed in fear of awakening the sleeping bear ( that's his new nickname.)
5) I will not use a swing to put my baby to sleep.
Refer to the picture above, and you will notice not 1 but 2 swings. I also have a bouncy chair. Ibby refuses to nap unless he swings to sleep, and I have learned to live with that. Thank you Graco for making my life a little bit easier.
Well, the sleeping bear has arisen, and I must go tend to him. All the future mommies out there. don't make lists and set yourself up for disappointments!! =)
Friday, June 24, 2011
Vacation Take 2
When Ibby was 3 months old, I flew by myself to go visit my parents. I dreaded the trip. I didn't sleep for nights before worried about what Ibrahim would do on the plane. When the big day arrived, I was on the verge of taking zoloft just to calm myself down before we left. Surprisingly, Ibrahim was an angel the entire plane ride, and just nursed and fell asleep.
3 months later, its vacation time with him again. This time, its a 6 hour car trip. Bring out the zoloft. I made list after list. I packed my altima until every possible spot was used to transport his things. I took an entire duffel bag full of toys for him, pureed a garden of vegetables, cereal, 100 change of clothing in case he decided to vomit every 5 minutes on the way there. In case our car broke down and we were stranded in the wilderness, I had enough diapers to last us a month and build a shelter out of them. Here's a picture:
Needless to say, I was prepared for every possible situation. We get in the car as I'm biting my nails and fighting down nausea. He starts staring at himself in the mirror and laughing. Then it started raining and he fell asleep to the sound of the rain. Two hours later, he woke up and I nursed and changed him in some boonie service station in Ohio. He fell back asleep and slept until we reached our destination. As we were unpacking 1000 million things around midnight from the car, I felt slightly foolish that I had packed him his winter coat and a sun hat in his carry on. The fact he had a carry on is also a bit foolish. But GOOD news everyone, we survived our ROAD trip!! How were dealing with his ear piercing stranger anxiety is another post to come.
3 months later, its vacation time with him again. This time, its a 6 hour car trip. Bring out the zoloft. I made list after list. I packed my altima until every possible spot was used to transport his things. I took an entire duffel bag full of toys for him, pureed a garden of vegetables, cereal, 100 change of clothing in case he decided to vomit every 5 minutes on the way there. In case our car broke down and we were stranded in the wilderness, I had enough diapers to last us a month and build a shelter out of them. Here's a picture:
Needless to say, I was prepared for every possible situation. We get in the car as I'm biting my nails and fighting down nausea. He starts staring at himself in the mirror and laughing. Then it started raining and he fell asleep to the sound of the rain. Two hours later, he woke up and I nursed and changed him in some boonie service station in Ohio. He fell back asleep and slept until we reached our destination. As we were unpacking 1000 million things around midnight from the car, I felt slightly foolish that I had packed him his winter coat and a sun hat in his carry on. The fact he had a carry on is also a bit foolish. But GOOD news everyone, we survived our ROAD trip!! How were dealing with his ear piercing stranger anxiety is another post to come.
Monday, June 20, 2011
I'm Turning Into My Mom
When I was younger, I'd watch my mom slave for a week over a dinner party. She'd plan the menu, scrub the house down, and make 65 trips to the grocery store. Then she'd make enough food to feed approximately 50 people. This would be excellent if we were in fact inviting 50 people, but it would usually only be a family or two.
Don't get me wrong, my mom has awesome azimas. She makes the best food ever.food that we would spend the next 2 weeks finishing off.
"I'm never going to be like that." I was not going to stress and overcook.
Reality --> I had a simple dinner party for 8 people last weekend.
I started planning the menu. It started out with two things, but i was plagued my an unnatural fear of not having enough food. As I walked through the grocery store shopping for food I kept adding to the menu.
My thought process:
" Two dishes and a salad are more then enough."
5 minutes later:
" What if they hate both dishes? I'll make a third one."
1 minute later:
" I need some sort of appetizer. What if they're hungry right when they come in and the food isn't ready?"
A few seconds later,
" I need to have an open buffet with 5 dishes, salad, appetizer, and soup."
I couldn't stop these thoughts people! I got to the point where I was going to have a chocolate fountain and have stations with different types of food. I realized I was suffering from something, a debilitating disorder I like to call:
Arabness.
Being Arab means it's in your blood to overfeed people and make tons of food for a party. You can't fight it. You must accept the fact that you will never have a classy sit down dinner with two other couples and just serve them dinner on a plate. No, you will have endless buffets full of glass Pyrexs and every type of stuffed vegetable imagined. You will spend a week sobbing in the kitchen as you roll another container of yabraa and make another pint of riz bi haleeb. Stop fighting it y'all! Live with it, accept it, and move on with your life. I'm writing this as im icing down my feet and staring at the 50 pounds of leftovers we have to finish this week. I am at peace with my arabness.
Don't get me wrong, my mom has awesome azimas. She makes the best food ever.food that we would spend the next 2 weeks finishing off.
"I'm never going to be like that." I was not going to stress and overcook.
Reality --> I had a simple dinner party for 8 people last weekend.
I started planning the menu. It started out with two things, but i was plagued my an unnatural fear of not having enough food. As I walked through the grocery store shopping for food I kept adding to the menu.
My thought process:
" Two dishes and a salad are more then enough."
5 minutes later:
" What if they hate both dishes? I'll make a third one."
1 minute later:
" I need some sort of appetizer. What if they're hungry right when they come in and the food isn't ready?"
A few seconds later,
" I need to have an open buffet with 5 dishes, salad, appetizer, and soup."
I couldn't stop these thoughts people! I got to the point where I was going to have a chocolate fountain and have stations with different types of food. I realized I was suffering from something, a debilitating disorder I like to call:
Arabness.
Being Arab means it's in your blood to overfeed people and make tons of food for a party. You can't fight it. You must accept the fact that you will never have a classy sit down dinner with two other couples and just serve them dinner on a plate. No, you will have endless buffets full of glass Pyrexs and every type of stuffed vegetable imagined. You will spend a week sobbing in the kitchen as you roll another container of yabraa and make another pint of riz bi haleeb. Stop fighting it y'all! Live with it, accept it, and move on with your life. I'm writing this as im icing down my feet and staring at the 50 pounds of leftovers we have to finish this week. I am at peace with my arabness.
Friday, April 1, 2011
I Love Vacations
So it's been forever since I've blogged. I wasn't that great when I didn't have a baby, but now I've pretty much abandoned my blog. But to all my avid readers, rejoice, I have decided to re-enter the online blogging world now that I am getting 8 hrs of uninterrupted sleep a night.
Yes, before you do a double take, I did just say 8 hours. For all you new mommies out there, there is hope that you will once again rejoin the human race and not walk around like a zombie anymore. I'm saying mA and knocking on wood and doing everything else not to jinx myself, because Ibby has great sleeping habits mashAllah. I feel human again. I actually brushed my hair the other day.
Mommyhood has been a learning experience. I thought having a set of twin bro and sis that were 19 years younger then me would of prepared me for taking care of Ibby. Boy was I wrong. With the twins, I could hand them off to my mom whenever I couldn't handle them. With Ibby, I have nobody to hand him off to.
The first few weeks were pretty hard, especially when your OCD like me. I freaked out when he coughed and I would cry along with him when he cried. He once gagged a little bit on his vitamins and I was this close to calling an ambulance. Needless to say, I was pretty tense those first 6 weeks.
Afterwards, things got easier. I learned his cues for hunger, I realized that sometimes babies cry for no reason, and I got used to not sleeping. Sleep. Had I known how sleep deprived I would be I would of probably spent my entire pregnancy hibernating.
Nowadays, I am vacationing at my parents and its been AMAZING. The fact that there is no snow and I don't have to do all my housework in 2 hr increments when Ibby is sleeping has been great. Eating my mom and grandmas food has also been a pleasing factor. Seeing all my friends and having a social life is fun. Talking to someone who talks back to me during the day has been refreshing. It is a much needed vacation. I will be cooking with my grandma, so a delicious post is to follow iA. Stay tunedd!! =)
Yes, before you do a double take, I did just say 8 hours. For all you new mommies out there, there is hope that you will once again rejoin the human race and not walk around like a zombie anymore. I'm saying mA and knocking on wood and doing everything else not to jinx myself, because Ibby has great sleeping habits mashAllah. I feel human again. I actually brushed my hair the other day.
Mommyhood has been a learning experience. I thought having a set of twin bro and sis that were 19 years younger then me would of prepared me for taking care of Ibby. Boy was I wrong. With the twins, I could hand them off to my mom whenever I couldn't handle them. With Ibby, I have nobody to hand him off to.
The first few weeks were pretty hard, especially when your OCD like me. I freaked out when he coughed and I would cry along with him when he cried. He once gagged a little bit on his vitamins and I was this close to calling an ambulance. Needless to say, I was pretty tense those first 6 weeks.
Afterwards, things got easier. I learned his cues for hunger, I realized that sometimes babies cry for no reason, and I got used to not sleeping. Sleep. Had I known how sleep deprived I would be I would of probably spent my entire pregnancy hibernating.
Nowadays, I am vacationing at my parents and its been AMAZING. The fact that there is no snow and I don't have to do all my housework in 2 hr increments when Ibby is sleeping has been great. Eating my mom and grandmas food has also been a pleasing factor. Seeing all my friends and having a social life is fun. Talking to someone who talks back to me during the day has been refreshing. It is a much needed vacation. I will be cooking with my grandma, so a delicious post is to follow iA. Stay tunedd!! =)
Thursday, February 10, 2011
And Baby Makes Three!! ( Alhumdulilah)
I'm sure all my hundreds of readers have noticed how I haven't posted lately. Well, on December 19,2010 we were blessed with Ibby! Since then, I've had no concept of day or night, and my days have been 3 hour intervals of feeding, burping, and diaper changes. Now, almost two months later, I think we finally got the hang of it and I can attempt to post on my blog.
Lets start from the beginning, on how Ibby decided to make his appearance.
My due date was December 25th, but around the 15th I became a bit impatient. I decided it was time to get things rolling. From then on, I cooked, scrubbed, and walked obsessively everyday. Finally, on December 17th, I started having contractions.
Friday the 17th started out like any other day. I woke up with a lot of energy and decided to scrub my house again in hopes of inducing my labor. When I say scrub, I mean no crevice or corner was left behind. The insides of my cabinets were wiped. My refrigerator was cleaned. I got on my knees and cleaned all my baseboards. Now some of you might think this is a bit much, but I was a woman with a mission. After my cleaning frenzy, I decided I needed to take a long walk to speed things up.
That night, my husband and I went to\ an indoor botanical garden. They had a special candle lit tour, which turned out to be retarded, because it was so dark we couldn't see any of the plants. But we walked all over the place, and I started feeling some painful irregular contractions. I'm sure everyone around us thought I was crazy, because I had to stop every once in a while to breath through my contraction. After that, we headed to my favorite Asian restaurant and I had a huge meal to tide me over for the next 3 hours.
All night I was having contractions, around 10-15 minutes apart. By morning they were getting more painful, but still irregular. We decided to get some shopping done. We got in the car to go buy a baby chair. I decided I couldn't go into labor unless I had my chair. Now my city only has 3 baby stores, so our options were pretty limited. We drove to Baby Depot, and my husband dropped me off in the front so he can park the car. As I was walking in, my contractions kept getting more and more painful. I had to stop every few minutes as I was walking to the back. People were staring at me, and probably thought I was some obsessed shopaholic who had to have one last shopping spree before she popped. Or maybe they were staring at me because I was in obvious pain. After what seemed like hours, I made it to the back of the store. My husband caught up with me, and we both came to the conclusion it was time to cut our shopping trip short and head home. Of course, I couldn't leave without my chair. I randomly picked a chair and went to pay, all the while having contractions.
Now comes the most annoying part of labor. How do you know when to go to the hospital? My water didn't break, and my contractions were 8-10 minutes apart. My doctor said not to come in unless they were regular. Um, hello, my uterus isn't a machine! I was pretty sure my contractions were never going to be exactly 8 minutes apart! We finally decided to head to the hospital around 8 PM, because the pain was starting to get unbearable.
I walked into the hospital, where I had spent the past 7 months coming and going to my OB appointments. When they hooked me up in triage and checked to see how far I was dilated, they said I was only 2 cm and they couldn't admit me till I was 4. I felt like the nurse had taken out a huge needle and burst the huge bubble I had above my head which was brimming with excitement about the prospect of finally having the baby. There was no way I was going home without a baby. We got up, and decided to walk around the hospital until I was dilated enough to be admitted. I needed my pain meds!
We walked, and walked, and walked. Finally, when it got to the point that I couldn't stand through my contraction, around midnight, I went back to have them check me again. I was 4 cm! Yayyyy I was finally admitted.
Now, I became slightly delusional as my labor progressed. After I was admitted I thought to myself, hey, I'm doing ok without the pain meds, maybe I can go without an epidural. I can be one of those cool moms that has the proud badge of a NATURAL BIRTH and everyone would stare at me in awe when I told my birth story. I already had the story composed in my head on how things would go:
"No it wasn't hard at all guys. I mean, I was in labor for like 2 days, but I bore through it, and somehow came up with the strength to bear the pain. Look, here's the trophy I got at the hospital for having a natural birth."
Everyone would smile at me and pat me on the back, all the while thinking in their heads, wow she was so brave and strong.
30 minutes later, reality set in, and my delusions were swept away with waves of pain I had never experienced before. It was time for an epidural.
Epidurals are great. After I got it, I felt like I was having a sleepover at the hospital, and my labor and delivery nurse chatted with me all night. I didn't feel anything, and the rush of adreneline in my veins made everything feel suprisingly pleasant. Finally, my doctor came in to check me at around 5 AM. She had warned me that once I took the epidural, my labor would slow down. Ok cool, I can spend all day like this! When she came and checked me, I was fully dilated and ready to push.
At that moment, I was hit with a huge anxiety attack. Apparently pregnancy isn't just getting a cute basketball belly, buying tiny clothe, and having strangers smile at you and open doors. You actually have to have a baby. The fear set in, but I'm glad it was then and not my entire 9 months of pregnancy. I started pushing, and 36 minutes later, the most amazing thing I've ever experienced happened, Ibby came out and was placed on my belly. All you moms out there know what I'm talking about. That feeling you get when you finally see your baby is amazing. The entire room disappears and all you can see is this little bundle on your chest trying to adjust to the outside world. I'll never forget that moment. Afterwards was a flurry of pictures, phone calls, and off to my room we go! To be continued.....
Lets start from the beginning, on how Ibby decided to make his appearance.
My due date was December 25th, but around the 15th I became a bit impatient. I decided it was time to get things rolling. From then on, I cooked, scrubbed, and walked obsessively everyday. Finally, on December 17th, I started having contractions.
Friday the 17th started out like any other day. I woke up with a lot of energy and decided to scrub my house again in hopes of inducing my labor. When I say scrub, I mean no crevice or corner was left behind. The insides of my cabinets were wiped. My refrigerator was cleaned. I got on my knees and cleaned all my baseboards. Now some of you might think this is a bit much, but I was a woman with a mission. After my cleaning frenzy, I decided I needed to take a long walk to speed things up.
That night, my husband and I went to\ an indoor botanical garden. They had a special candle lit tour, which turned out to be retarded, because it was so dark we couldn't see any of the plants. But we walked all over the place, and I started feeling some painful irregular contractions. I'm sure everyone around us thought I was crazy, because I had to stop every once in a while to breath through my contraction. After that, we headed to my favorite Asian restaurant and I had a huge meal to tide me over for the next 3 hours.All night I was having contractions, around 10-15 minutes apart. By morning they were getting more painful, but still irregular. We decided to get some shopping done. We got in the car to go buy a baby chair. I decided I couldn't go into labor unless I had my chair. Now my city only has 3 baby stores, so our options were pretty limited. We drove to Baby Depot, and my husband dropped me off in the front so he can park the car. As I was walking in, my contractions kept getting more and more painful. I had to stop every few minutes as I was walking to the back. People were staring at me, and probably thought I was some obsessed shopaholic who had to have one last shopping spree before she popped. Or maybe they were staring at me because I was in obvious pain. After what seemed like hours, I made it to the back of the store. My husband caught up with me, and we both came to the conclusion it was time to cut our shopping trip short and head home. Of course, I couldn't leave without my chair. I randomly picked a chair and went to pay, all the while having contractions.
Now comes the most annoying part of labor. How do you know when to go to the hospital? My water didn't break, and my contractions were 8-10 minutes apart. My doctor said not to come in unless they were regular. Um, hello, my uterus isn't a machine! I was pretty sure my contractions were never going to be exactly 8 minutes apart! We finally decided to head to the hospital around 8 PM, because the pain was starting to get unbearable.
I walked into the hospital, where I had spent the past 7 months coming and going to my OB appointments. When they hooked me up in triage and checked to see how far I was dilated, they said I was only 2 cm and they couldn't admit me till I was 4. I felt like the nurse had taken out a huge needle and burst the huge bubble I had above my head which was brimming with excitement about the prospect of finally having the baby. There was no way I was going home without a baby. We got up, and decided to walk around the hospital until I was dilated enough to be admitted. I needed my pain meds!
We walked, and walked, and walked. Finally, when it got to the point that I couldn't stand through my contraction, around midnight, I went back to have them check me again. I was 4 cm! Yayyyy I was finally admitted.
Now, I became slightly delusional as my labor progressed. After I was admitted I thought to myself, hey, I'm doing ok without the pain meds, maybe I can go without an epidural. I can be one of those cool moms that has the proud badge of a NATURAL BIRTH and everyone would stare at me in awe when I told my birth story. I already had the story composed in my head on how things would go:
"No it wasn't hard at all guys. I mean, I was in labor for like 2 days, but I bore through it, and somehow came up with the strength to bear the pain. Look, here's the trophy I got at the hospital for having a natural birth."
Everyone would smile at me and pat me on the back, all the while thinking in their heads, wow she was so brave and strong.
30 minutes later, reality set in, and my delusions were swept away with waves of pain I had never experienced before. It was time for an epidural.
Epidurals are great. After I got it, I felt like I was having a sleepover at the hospital, and my labor and delivery nurse chatted with me all night. I didn't feel anything, and the rush of adreneline in my veins made everything feel suprisingly pleasant. Finally, my doctor came in to check me at around 5 AM. She had warned me that once I took the epidural, my labor would slow down. Ok cool, I can spend all day like this! When she came and checked me, I was fully dilated and ready to push.
At that moment, I was hit with a huge anxiety attack. Apparently pregnancy isn't just getting a cute basketball belly, buying tiny clothe, and having strangers smile at you and open doors. You actually have to have a baby. The fear set in, but I'm glad it was then and not my entire 9 months of pregnancy. I started pushing, and 36 minutes later, the most amazing thing I've ever experienced happened, Ibby came out and was placed on my belly. All you moms out there know what I'm talking about. That feeling you get when you finally see your baby is amazing. The entire room disappears and all you can see is this little bundle on your chest trying to adjust to the outside world. I'll never forget that moment. Afterwards was a flurry of pictures, phone calls, and off to my room we go! To be continued.....
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