Or is it just for me to remember?
I don’t know. I just can’t decide about publishing it for now.
Here are some highlights though:
#1. The 10-hour labor. My water broke spontaneously at 12:30 AM and Missy arrived by 10:43 that morning.
#2. Our doula – who I neglected to let know I was 2 cm dilated because all of my friends assured me I could hang out like that for weeks – was in Seattle. We called her at 5:30 in the morning to give her the heads up. She could have called in a reserve doula, but she got up and drove back to Portland. Hung over. (She admitted she’d had a bit too much wine with her family the night prior). She arrived just when I started to push. We heart our doula.
#3. Despite all of my tough talk, I caved and got an epidural when I was 8cm dilated. "There’s no shame in getting an epidural at eight centimeters," our labor nurse rationalized, "It’s the women who come in and beg for an epidural at 2 centimeters that we kind of roll our eyes at." Our doula wasn’t there yet so Cowboy and I had managed 95% of the labor sans drugs and sans any assistance except for some pointers from the labor nurse.
I got spooked when they told me that Missy was face up and that we’d have to spend about 30-40 minutes of "gentle" pushing while the OB turned her face down for the delivery. Yeah, "gentle pushing" in between roller coaster contractions that we coming every other minute. I don’t regret it. I went from the fetal position to complimenting the anesthesiologist on her fantastic snakeskin heels within minutes.
#4. I labored through most of the night by myself in the birthing room bathroom. For those who have had spontaneous miscarriages, there is a scary point in labor when the contractions intensify and begin to feel exactly like cramping that happens during a miscarriage. I had to face my demons here. It took a lot of mental strength to remind myself that this was good. That these contractions would result in a real live baby. That I was okay. I started to panic at this point, but am proud that I talked myself back from the ledge and relaxed into the contractions rather than fighting them by tensing up in fear.
#5. Cowboy was a rock star. He even cut the cord! He didn’t stay uptown like he was supposed to, but I didn’t care because he helped me with the worst of the contractions by letting me know when each one was half over. Contractions only last one minute each. Believe me. Those are some long ass minutes. So it helped mightily to have him time them. It is kind of going on a long run. Somehow it seems easier to handle the fatigue if you know where you are in the process. Once each contraction hit the 30-second mark, I could breathe deeply knowing that the pain would subside soon.
#6. The only bummer about a labor that comes before your due date is that – or at least for me – you’re not prepared to say good-bye to your pregnancy. Don’t get me wrong. I did not relish the whole pregnancy gig. But one day you have this fuzzy little kitten moving around in your belly and the next day the feeling you got so used to is GONE. Like that. During our first night in the hospital, I so missed the feeling of Missy squirming in my belly as I fell asleep that I moved her from her bassinet to my bed and we snuggled like the old days.
#7. These days I stare as much at my ankles as I do my daughter. My (c)ankles swelled to epic proportions post-delivery. The day my old slender, athletic ankles appeared again was a banner day in our house.
And because no one is coming to this blog these days to read the blah-blah-blah from me, here is a photo of Missy at three weeks old.
Our part-time-for-the-summer nanny starts this week so hopefully I will have time to catch up on the computer and all of your blogs. I apologize that I have been M.I.A.