Tuesday, September 07, 2010
Spenser as a baby...
When I found out that I was pregnant, the day after we got married(!!!) I was thrilled. I still have the pee stick. Don't worry it is in plastic.
Anyway, the pregnancy test turned as soon as the urine hit it. I was really pregnant. I was stoked. Rob was stoked. We called our parents and told them. The first person besides Rob that I told was my older sister. Then my Dad, and then my Mom. It was scary.
Mom asked me multiple times if I was sure. Yep. Sure.
Everyone was happy. Hell I was ecstatic. I had always wanted kids. I would hold friends infants and my uterus would literally cramp. I longed for kids the way a kid longs for summer break. I thought that my baby would be fine. There would be nothing to worry about because after all he/she had half of my genetics, and that should trump the mental illness on Rob's side. Boy I was stupid.
I also thought I was having a girl.
Again, stupid me. When the ultrasound showed a boy, I was shocked. Absolutely shocked. And frightened. All the boys on Rob's side have mental illness. Let me clarify, all the paternal males--his dad, his paternal grandfather and up.
I thought that if we had a girl, there would be no reason to worry. Well that flew out the window. With the prospect of having a boy, the mental illness was fair game. Though I did not dwell on it.
I had a great pregnancy. I got happily fat, oh yeah, I was a tub. No morning sickness, no mood swings. It was wonderful.
Until about Thanksgiving.
That is when I had this weirdness start. I had stigmata nipple. Enough that the OB sent me to a specialist, because they wanted to rule out cancer and other assorted nasty things. They never did figure out what caused it, but it was troubling. It never effected the pregnancy in any way. Nor did it effect breast feeding, but that is later.
I was due on March 8. Great day to be born, I have a niece and nephew who share that birthday, and a cousin who has that day as well. However, I can vividly remember staring at the calendar and thinking February 25 just stands out. I don't know why, but it did. Again, put it to the back of my mind.
I had had a few cases of false labor in February. Each time all 2 of them, Rob would get honked off. He was embarrassed to have to go back to work and say, oops, false alarm. That would be the bipolar rearing it's head.
So when I called him Wednesday the 24th and asked him to come home the response was are you sure? I was very sure.
At about 9 that morning I was on the phone with my dad, and I had a huge contraction. Just one. I felt a bit crampy, and oogy, but I figured it was because I was getting close to my due date. However when I went to the restroom at about 1 ish, and had blood I knew something was going on. So I called Rob explained the situation, and he came home!
Long story short, Spenser was hanging on to my spine, because he did not want to come out. The epidural that I had to wait for, until I was 4 cm, which took until about 3 in the morning(!!!), did not really take full effect. A side note, Rob said he had never seen blood spurt so far, which happened when they put the epidural in. They rolled me from side to side to get the numbing stuff to even out and go everywhere it needed to be. Problem was that when they rolled me to the right, Spenser's heart rate would decel. It was scary. At that point, the nurses would then have to stimulate Spenser, by rubbing the top of his head--I'll let you work out how that happened. When his heart rate went back up, I would roll back onto my back.
At about 5 in the morning, they broke my water. Ick. Nothing like feeling like you peed yourself, only times 100. They did that in hopes that I would dilate the rest of the way. At about 8 in the morning, I ralphed. I think the combo of labor going on for forever, no food, no drink, tons of meds, and stress contributed to that happening. I begged to use mouth wash to clean out my mouth--the nurses didn't want to. They relented after I began to cry, as long as I didn't swallow any. No problem there chief!
At nearly 10:30 in the morning, they had me start pushing. I was not fully dilated, but they thought this would help. Mostly it just wore me out. They put me on oxygen, because I was having issues breathing. I pushed for a good hour and a half before the doctor said c-section time. She apologized. I said get it out of me!!!!
So they rolled me into the OR. Fun times. To make a long story shorter, they lost a sponge, I could feel them cutting me, and they then dumped tons of meds into my IV, and into the incision so i would numb up!
Spenser, well he came out as clean as could be. He was the cleanest just born baby I have ever seen. None of that muck on him like you see on TV, or in books. Just a tiny bit of blood, from me. He was alert, looking everywhere, quiet, content. They had to pinch him so he would squeal. He was happy just to hang out with his dad, as they finished up on me! I remember looking over at them. Being so happy that he was here. He was happy. Rob was happy and not freaking. And basically passing out. He weighed 8lbs 4oz and was 20.5 inches long. Big boy! Born on February 25!!!
As an infant, he did not sleep unless he was held. And I was the human pacifier. He hated the car, would scream bloody murder when we had to go anywhere. Didn't mind the car seat, but as soon as the car got moving, he screeched. We co-slept. It was the only way I could get sleep, he could eat, and everyone could be happy.
He crawled early, like 4 months, walked at 8.5, and was running by his first birthday. He spoke early. 6 or 7 months old he would say Maaaaamaaaa, and daaaadaaa. And he progressed from there.
By age 1 he was speaking in sentences. I have video of him on his first birthday, yelling at his father,
"Daddy, I done, I get downnnnnn!" He was finished with his cake.
He loved books from day 1 as well. Didn't tear them up like you would expect, but patiently waited to be read to.
He was a mostly happy baby. Aside from not sleeping unless held, or being in the car, he was happy.
I wonder where that went.