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For your NOM NOM NOMMING pleasure.

Coming home from the hospital:
img_1908No Brutus, that’s not for you. And he is definitely not a chew toy so stop with the sniffing.
img_1912Do I need to explain why we’ve started calling him Peanut? And yes, Daddy’s playing WoW while holding the baby. As long as he keeps changing the diapers he can play all dorky computer games he wants.
img_1917This is how Baby Evan looks after he eats. I dare you not to chew on your computer screen. Double Dog Dare you.
img_1923And if you notice in the background, that is totally our changing table in the family room. We spend 90% of our baby time down here anyways, and leaning over to change him on the pack’n’play was killing my E’s back. We’ll bring it back upstairs eventually. “Eventually” probably meaning after he’s toilet trained.

So once the doctor realized I was fully dilated and ready to push, the room went from “generic hospital” to “The Vagina Show” in 2.5 seconds. The bed had leg things folded down underneath – not just the stirrups like at the lady doctor but big fat thigh holders and foot pedals so you could pull your legs right up to your armpits. Since I could still move myself around pretty well, Pam my nurse didn’t have to manipulate me and I still felt like I was in control. Then some other nurse came in to see how things were going. Then the nursery nurse brought in all the stuff they needed to check Baby Evan once he was out. Then another random person in scrubs came in. All of these new visitors got a full view of my croth and possibly the baby’s head, but were too polite to suggest I not lie around with my legs in the air. The doctor came back in wearing a plastic face shield that secretly fascinated me. I wondered how often things flew out at such a speed that eye protection really became necessary…but then decided I didn’t really want to know.

At 7:10 pm I warned the nurse that the pressure was starting again in a huge way and she said we’d try to practice pushing. She warned me the average pushing time for a first time mom was 2 hours so I should really make each one count. The first push I forgot to hold my breath – all those relaxing breathing techniques from birthing class had clouded my brain – and all I did was make my face red. The second time I was still thinking about poop, so I tried to push with my pelvic muscles instead of my butt muscles.After those two practice pushes I decided 2 hours of this would kill me so I concentrated on relaxing, not worrying, and PUSHING. No more thinking about poop. But just for the record, all my worrying was for nothing. I DID NOT POOP ON THE TABLE!

7:15 pm – Push, breath, push, breath, push, breath relax. I could still feel the start and stop of each contraction, and now I could feel the doctor sort of wiggling things around to help the baby’s head descend the rest of the way too. Still no pain but I wouldn’t exactly call it comfortable. E was awesome this whole time, holding my hand and encouraging me to keep going. I think he was prepared to be incredibly understanding while I screamed “Why did you do this to me you f*cker!??!” and might be secretly disappointed his patience was unnecessary. I can be pretty creative with the cursing. Thanks for preventing me from turning anyone’s ears blue, epidural! Two more pushes and I heard the doctor said I was almost done. DONE?! What happened to two hours??? The last few had gone by so fast I hadn’t really had time to think about becoming an actual mother to an actual child. Yikes.

7:20 pm – Baby Evan’s head popped out. No, really, it actually went “pop”. The nurse kept saying “look down look down!” Sorry lady, I’m kind of busy here, how about you look and I’ll finish delivering? E got to look though, and later said there was a lot of blood, scary amounts, but he did a great job of not freaking out. At 7:21 pm I pushed one more time and the rest of Baby Evan joined the world. The nurse dragged him right up onto a blanket on my chest and they started cleaning him up. The rest happened really fast and is kind of a blur. The doctor let E cut the cord, the baby started to cry, the nurse took him to the warmer for weight and measurements, and I thought “oh my God, what’s wrong with my child’s head?!” Then I thought “wow, I’m a terribly mother to care so much about the shape of my perfectly healthy baby’s head”. All the baby books warn you about how baby’s head shapes and compresses to go through the birth canal, but it’s really kind of alarming. Thank goodness for those cute little hats.

7:24 pm – Something went “wooosh” and fell out of my vagina. I must have looked really surprised because my doctor reassured me it was just the placenta. I had heard that you had to deliver the afterbirth the same way you deliver the baby, but since the nurse turned up the Pitocin drip to help my uterus contract it’s way back to normal it delivered itself without any help from me. The other nurse asked if I was in pain and I said no, I was still numb. “Good” she said “since you had air in your line and I turned off the epidural 5 minutes ago.” YOU DID WHAT?! “I think I’ll need to repair this tear” said the doctor “One stitch, maybe two.” EXCUSE ME?!? You turned off my drugs right before someone started a sewing project in my perineum? THANKS SO MUCH. It was fine though, the drugs lasted through two stitches and I’ve hardly noticed them at all.

By 7:30 pm I was cleaned up and no longer spread eagle in the bed. The doctor and the nurses kept going on and on about how having a baby in 7 pushes is AMAZING and I made a comment about how I would definitely have another baby. Especially seeing as how I am apparently very good at it. Plus, then I could have MORE EPIDURALS. Suddenly the doctor punched me in the stomach. Hard. Actually, she and Nurse Pam were trying to help get the rest of the…stuff out of my uterus, but the pushing on my stomach was by far the most painful part of the whole birth. The hospital staff did it all night too, coming in to check on me, act all concerned and nice and then kneed my stomach until I yelled “OUCH”. The baby nurse finished weighing and measuring and cleaning so they brought Baby Evan back to cuddle. I was still totally giddy with joy and drugs and hormones and couldn’t really believe that this whole entire baby I was holding was the same baby I’d been carrying around for 9 months, although my deflated abdomen and the lack of kicking baby feet was a super strange sensation. To be truthful, it’s been a little more than 48 hours and I’m still having a hard time believing I am done with Pregnant and on to Mommy. On the way out of the hospital parking lot today I laughed (perhaps slightly insanely) and said “We totally got away with stealing this baby!” I may be I little over-tired.

After everyone got to hold the baby – including Mom, who came in after all the gross parts were over – Nurse Pam did another baby check. She thought his temp was low and wanted to put him under the warmer. When that didn’t improve things right away she checked his blood sugar and it was a little low. I wanted to try breastfeeding* before they took him to the nursery, but after about 15 minutes of working on his latch he needed to go back under the warmer. I gave them permission to give him a little formula to get his sugar up but it took the nursery staff a really long time to get him interested in the bottle. Since we had a little break from the baby, Pam asked if I could feel my legs and I wiggled around to prove I could. With a little help I got up to the bathroom and tried to pee but couldn’t relax enough. I forgot to mention they put in a catheter right after the epidural, so there wasn’t much in my bladder anyways, but my fear of peeing on the stitches was pretty high.

My time line from this point on is a blur of baby, sleeping, trying to feed, episodes of Designed to Sell (I must have turned the TV back on), and people coming in and out to check on me. Someone brought me graham crackers, peanut butter and milk, which is to date the most delicious meal I’ve ever had. I even got my Diet Coke – three tiny cans of total deliciousness, the desire for which is at least partially to thank for my quick delivery. E went home around 10 pm to get some real sleep and the nursery staff wanted to keep the baby to monitor his blood sugar. By morning I was pretty well rested – well enough to write the first half of this story anyways – the baby was warmer and healthy, I had a delicious blueberry muffin, and I FINALLY pooped. The doctor gave me a self-medication kit after labor which consisted of a bottle of ibuprofen, four stool softeners, some Tucks pads and a water squirt bottle to clean up if I needed. I took two pain killers and a stool softener with my graham crackers, and O M G was that a good plan. Sitting in the bed was really uncomfortable after the epidural wore off and my fear of ended up constipated was very, very real. But that morning I pooped like a champ and my last huge fear about having a baby flew out the window to the land where people try to scare you with awful labor stories.

All of Monday was really boring and unnecessary. Lots of hospital reps came and went with surveys and advice and paperwork. I got a shower and put on the pajamas I brought – a huge improvement over the hospital gown. I cannot emphasize enough how much better it is to wear your own underwear after 12 hours of either nakedness or hospital issued mesh shorts and giant diaper-sized pads. We had a couple friends stop by to visit, which was a nice way to pass the time, but mostly I just lounged and held the baby. It was a very long day with a definite lack of naps. At around 9:30 pm the doctor from my OB-GYN practice came in and said she was ready to do the circumcision if we wanted. I let E make the call on the circ as I don’t have a penis, and he was very sure that it was something he wanted. The doctor said the nursery needed to keep the baby for a while after the procedure so I took the opportunity to sleep and E headed home for another night in our soft comfy bed. At about midnight I started hating him for not suffering through the same terrible hospital bed. I think I might have sent him an angry text message about being a bad father. That second night was much harder than the first.

More details to come unless my boobs explode and short out my computer. Two hours ago I was worried my milk would never come in. Right now I’m about 99% positive I could feed an entire pre-school class and still have enough to lighten my coffee.

*Breastfeeding is hard, y’all. I know my baby is 48 hours old and my boobs aren’t even making milk yet but this kid really isn’t great at eating. I’ve got great support though and a real desire to make it work so we’ll get the hang of it soon.

Seriously, before I can even tell you about the baby, I need to talk about how epidurals are the most amazing thing in the entire world. I want one every day. I want to give them to all my friends for Christmas. I want to find a way to sell them on the streets like crack because I would be a millionaire in a week. I LOVE YOU EPIDURAL.

Evan Richard Davis III was born at 7:21 pm on April 5th, 2009. He is 7 lbs 12 oz and 20.5 inches long. His apgar scores (a sort of useless measure of how active and pink your baby is, mostly used as a way for parents to claim their newborn is superior to yours) were 8 and 9. He didn’t cry right away but is getting pretty good at it now, although he hasn’t really committed to screaming his head off for any length of time. He had a little trouble warming up so the nurses have been watching his blood sugar but the pediatrician says he’s fine now. E is excelling at both baby holding and diaper changing.

My full labor and delivery story (complete with gross details and sound effects) to follow, but for now know that it was actually shamefully easy. If I had known it was going to be like that I would have spent a lot less time worrying about it and a lot more time on something worthwhile – like thinking up ways to sell epidurals to drug addicts.

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I love email! It's like talking to other grown ups without having to worry if the baby is screaming! Contact me: bebehblog@gmail.com
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