A Return to Form - Part 1

"We will live by our own rules, for that is the best form of all!" - Captain Killian Jones, Once Upon a Time episode 3.05 "Good Form"

I think this blog is going to make another transition. Up until now, it's been mostly a review blog - reviews of TV and movies that I want to talk about (Side Note: Jared is also going to be using this for some homework he has this semester, which you might have already seen). But when I started this, the title "cj's notebook" was chosen deliberately. Lowercase initials because I think type in all caps is ugly as crap. But "notebook" because when I write in my hard copy notebooks, anything and everything goes in them. Story ideas, random thoughts, things I want to remember, tirades about things that irritate me, funny things that make me laugh, and more thoughtful moments when something hits me in the squishy, gooey center.

I've decided I want this blog to have more of that squishy gooey-ness. And maybe some more real-life moments. Good and bad. And what better time than after I officially become a mom.

Yes, the timing of this is no coincidence. I mentioned some time ago that I was expecting a baby. Well, Tiny made his grand appearance roughly seven weeks ago -

Yes, he has a Baby Groot.

Needless to say, life has changed dramatically. That's one of the biggest "Well, duh" statements I could make. Even people who don't have kids of their own recognize this. I knew things were going to change. What I didn't expect was how drastically things were going to change. And not all in good ways. But from opposition comes self-reflection, and that's the story I'm going to tell.

I'm just going to say it: If you don't want to hear my childbirth story, you probably want to turn back right now. I'll try to soften the gory details, but to appreciate this experience I have to share as much as I can. Sorry if that upsets you.

Tiny's due date was August 3. August 3rd came... and then it went. A week later, my doctor had planned to induce me no later than a week overdue. The night of August 10, I was admitted to the hospital and they induced labor. The plan was to have the baby on the 11th. But - after the gloriousness of Saint Epidural (I'm telling you, epidurals are God's gift to women) - I slept for most of the 11th. They even had to increase the medication because labor wasn't progressing as it should. At one point, having a C-section was seriously discussed and that made me want to crawl into a hole somewhere (well, I would have if I'd had use of my legs).

By midnight on the 12th, I was ready to push. Which I did for about 3-4 hours. And still nothing. By the time my doctor was called in, I'd been in labor for more than 30 hours. My doctor gave us a few options to try before I would have to be prepped for a C-section. We tried one and at 5:24 am on August 12, Alex was born.

And the boy was BIG. Ten pounds, fourteen ounces. Which explained why he had such a hard time being born. Also, when he was finally born, his exit from the womb caused me some severe injuries and bleeding. (This is the squicky part, FYI.) I lost a liter of blood, my blood pressure dropped like a rock, I turned pale, and I had to be put on oxygen. The stupid thing about this part? I was still drugged up like crazy, so I couldn't feel anything. I had no clue that I was in so much trouble. All I wanted was to see my baby and make sure he was okay.

Well, depends on how you define "okay." Because his breathing was really fast and his blood sugar was really low. He needed to eat, but he couldn't take anything by mouth because there was a risk that he would inhale it and choke. I got to hold him for about an hour before they whisked him off to the nursery to be checked out. Which is where he stayed for several days afterwards. He was on oxygen and an IV and a bunch of other sensors the likes of which I'd seen in the NICU after my triplet nieces were born back in May. While Alex was not in the NICU, he did have to be continuously monitored because of the rough delivery. Poor kid's face was swollen, he had bruises from the delivery, and jaundice set in pretty quick.

But I didn't know that immediately. I was left with an oxygen mask on my face, exhausted, and with nurses scrambling around me back and forth (NOTE: I have to say that all of the nurses that worked with me and Alex while we were in the hospital were amazing. Not only were they professional and caring, but they went out of their way to make sure I felt like a human being. Given how long we ended up staying in the hospital, I can't overstate how much I appreciated everything they did for us.) It was a few hours before I got to see Alex. And I was a wreck. Once they removed the epidural tube-thingy and the drugs started to wear off, I could feel how much pain I was in. I could barely walk the five feet from my bed to the bathroom in the recovery room. Just standing up nearly wiped me out. The first time I went to see Alex in the nursery, I had to be taken in a wheelchair.

It kind of sucked.

Also, we couldn't have a lot of visitors. Because Alex was in the nursery, only his parents and grandparents were allowed to see him. Aunts, uncles, cousins, friends - nope. None of them could see him in the hospital. Which stunk because a lot of people (family, mostly) were texting and calling wondering when they could come visit. Keep in mind, *I* still hadn't seen my baby for more than an hour when these texts were coming in. Not that I was mad about people wanting to visit. I was actually happy to hear from family. But it was just frustrating that I didn't know what to tell everybody. Heaven knew I could have used some outside company. But it didn't seem fair to let people come see us when they couldn't see the baby. Let's be real here: That's why they would have wanted to come at all.

To recap: While none of these problems were life-threatening or even particularly serious, it certainly wasn't what we'd planned on happening. The entire time I was pregnant with Alex, everything went normal. My doctor wasn't worried about anything, every little complaint I had about morning sickness and other discomforts were expected, even going past my due date was anticipated (first time moms often go over). We even had an idea that Alex would be a bigger-than-average baby. Just didn't realize how big he'd be or how hard of a time he'd have being born because of it. He's in the 100th percentile for everything - weight, length, head size. Meaning he's bigger than other babies his age. We joke that he could have walked out of the hospital, that I'd given birth to a toddler. But he's a "toddler" that's still a seven-week-old baby.

Of course, we love this kid like there is no tomorrow. I wouldn't trade him for anything in the world. You might have heard something along the lines of becoming a mother means letting your heart wander around outside your body. I can attest that is an accurate way of putting things. It's amazing and joyous and nerve-wracking and frightening all at the same time. There are times I hate having to put Alex down in his crib or in his bouncy chair because I don't want him to be too far away from me, even if all I'm doing is cleaning the house or going to the bathroom or something equally mundane and necessary and not that far away. But it feels like I'm taking a trip to the Himalayas. It sounds ridiculous - but maybe it's not so ridiculous to other moms.

Which is why this next bit is kind of... I don't know how to describe it. Maybe I should just tell the story and let it stand on its own.

***

Actually, this is getting pretty long-winded. So, I'm going to post this and do a Part 2 shortly. Look forward to it!