Wyatt's birthday

Oh hey!  Hey there, blog reader...

Wyatt Edison is 6 months old.  I haven't gotten a haircut or lost all the baby weight or written a blog post, so I figured I'd knock one out...

Blog post it is!

Really, I want to record my memories of the day Wyatt was born, before I totally forget.  To be totally honest, I've already let a lot go that was there, so I better get this out.

February 25, 2016 started out as I expected it to.  I had been off of work for a week, expecting to deliver Wyatt via C-Section on March 3, 2016.  But as usual with my pregnancies, my blood pressure was starting to go up and I was gaining water weight like a champion.  I was going to twice weekly monitoring appointments with the high risk OB and on Thursdays this was in the afternoon.

After a few trips to labor and delivery to check on the baby earlier in the month (and 2 days before he was born...) I had already started bringing my hospital bag with me.  I went to my appointment on the 25th fully thinking I would have the baby that day.  Adam went to work.  Because he's Adam, that's what he does on days we have babies, he goes to work.  But even before I left for the day, we had a plan in place.  I made sure to eat lunch, building in 8 hours in which to make sure the boys were picked up from daycare and looked after for the evening.

So off to the doctor's appointments I went.  I had a non stress test in labor and delivery and then waddled upstairs to have a bio-physical profile ultrasound and my usual check up done.  These events are all kind of hazy, I remember a bit, but I was tired and huge, having gained 25 pounds alone in the final 2 weeks.  My doctor (a man, worth noting in my opinion) was out on vacation, so I saw another doctor.  She took one look at me and decided that I needed to have the baby.  While my blood pressure wasn't terrible and I didn't have any immediate signs of pre-eclampsia, my history was enough to give her concern.  Plus, I honestly think she saw how miserable I was.  She let me know that Dr. Kessler was on call in labor and delivery all night and that she would be delivering the baby.

So I wandered back to labor and delivery and got in bed for the long wait.  It was a long wait for lots of reasons, mainly I was nervous.  Being nervous causes your blood sugar to tank, so I was not feeling so well.  Then the contractions started.  Yes, early labor started while I was waiting for my C-Section.  I'd never had any contractions before and holy crap...  they were for real.  Once my blood sugar started to really bottom out, we decided that I could have a ginger ale.  And another ginger ale.  It was a clear fluid, the doctor said.  It was fine, the doctor said...  It was fine until it wasn't fine and the doctor found out that we'd need to wait another hour.  By then, an emergency had come in, so we waited longer.  My surgery that was scheduled to happen at 8:15 finally started around 10:15 pm.

Adam had arrived and was keeping me calm,  I had my phone charger, a catheter and comfy pants on, so really I could have waited longer.  But all of the waiting was making me nervous.

Finally they wheeled me back to have the baby.  The nurses and doctor were great, but then the panic set in.  I'm not a fan of getting an epidural.  The big needle in the spine freaks me out and I knew it was coming and I'd had 2 before and yet, I was still freaked.  Then I found out that while I'd gotten an epidural for pain management (where they leave a tube in your spinal column) AND a spinal block (a shot of numbing juice) for James and Logan, I was only getting a spinal block.  The change was because I was in a different hospital.  So even though essentially, the same thing was happening, I still felt even more nervous.

After a spinal block, you rapidly lose feeling in your legs.  I had some pretty large legs at this point, so the staff scrambled to get me strapped down to the table.  This left me feeling like I was falling off the table, even though I wasn't.

Adam came in and sat with me.  The surgery started.  It feels like it took longer than with the other two, I'm not certain it was.  I started to sing a song to keep myself calm.  The anesthesiologist thought I had lost my mind.  And then the baby came out.  And then they pushed a shit ton of drugs to calm me, even though I wasn't that upset, at least in my mind.  Wyatt wasn't screaming much.  He wasn't silent like James, but he wasn't bellowing like Logan and that made me worry even though I was totally out of it at this point.  I barely remember seeing him, although there is a picture.  I was dozing in and out to the point of snoring a bit.  But the baby was breathing too quickly and his blood sugar was too low (shock there, I was chugging ginger ale to make it to surgery) so off to the NICU he went.

Finishing up with me took awhile, they had to tie my tubes and put me back together.  The doctor did a lovely job of tidying up my previous scar, but it took awhile.  I went to recovery and spent the time worried and embarrassed.  I felt a bit the way you might feel after a night of drinking.  You don't quite remember it, but you know you might have done something dumb and honestly, even writing this, I still feel the same way.

I was moving towards getting another pre-eclampsia diagnosis and knowing that would mean 24 hours of magnesium sulfate (aka the worst drug ever), the nurses ran another series of lab work on me.  This meant another 2 hours in the recovery room, so by 3 am I was finally moved to my own room.  Around 9 am that morning, Adam got to go see the baby in the NICU and found out that he'd be leaving soon.  It took another 3 hours and I finally got to hold my not so little, little guy.

He had very chubby cheeks and I worried that he might not be cute.  He snuggled right away and was very calm and content.  My heart could have exploded with happiness.

February 25, 2016, 10:57 pm, 10 lbs., 10 oz, 21 1/4 inches long.

One year ago

I use an app called "Timehop" and everyday it shows you pictures and social media posts from years past.  Sometimes its a happy reminder, a time I had with friends that I'd forgotten or a cute baby picture of one of the boys.  Or its a reminder that things that once upset me greatly weren't that bad, like this week when I relived the entire week we spent without power 5 years ago.  Sometimes they're a great reminder of exactly how much things have changed, like when I see a post from my now ex-stepfather.  Funny how someone can so quickly remove himself for your life and really its almost like he was never there.  In some cases that can be a good thing, I'm not sure how I would feel about it if it was someone who I really wanted in my life.
Today, there was a picture of Logan, standing in his crib.  One year ago, Logan was still the baby and we'd only just found out that we were expecting.  One year ago, I was a nervous wreck while James had his first few days of kindergarten.  And one year ago today I was pregnant, but still looking pretty thin and almost athletic.
All of those things were going on one year ago, but they don't seem that far off.  And the sweet picture I saw of little James' toes from 6 years ago doesn't seem that far off either.
Wyatt turned 6 months last week.  In the blink of an eye we're almost done with the newborn phase.  The phase that really brings to light the thought that "days seem long, but years seem short".
So we move along, each day bringing its new challenges, but I've learned, especially with 3 young children, that every phase is a challenge and the ones we are dealing with now are probably the easy ones.
I smile every morning when I open Timehop.  The boys crowd around and guess who's baby picture we're looking at.  They laugh when they see mom and dad without them.  Hard to believe one's parents had a life before they came along!