For Part One of A Baby Story, see here. Now for the conclusion – I promise!
One thing was missing with this whole birth thing. The labor part. They had a solution for that. They were going to give me Pitocin to start labor since baby broke my water and apparently decided to go back to sleep. But then no one came for an hour, because someone had an emergency C-section. By the time they got back, labor had started on its own. There was some pain now, but a solution. Demerol. Oh, Demerol, my good friend, how do I love thee? My husband flipped channels and settled on Nascar. I watched the cars go round and round the track. Wheeee! I was seriously high. God, I miss Demerol. That would have been cool to have the entire pregnancy.
They put a baby monitor around my belly, but it didn’t work, because my baby was like, pfft, you ain’t measuring me, just like you couldn’t tell for certain what sex I was. Suckers. So I got an internal monitor, which is just as much fun as it sounds. I went to sleep for a few hours. Things were mellow. The nurses said I probably wouldn’t deliver until like late that night, cause first babies, right? My in-laws walked in and I was like, “hellllooooo” and then realized that I felt all this pressure which made the nurse freak out a bit and get the doctor. Hey, wow, turned out I was having the baby that afternoon, not that evening. I think now she overheard them and decided to once more screw with their minds.
I got an epidural and then came the fun pushing stuff that they always make you watch on TLC but which I won’t force you to endure here. One nurse did inform me I would have hemorrhoids which I was totes worried about while pushing out a freaking baby. But then she came, and the doctor said it was a girl, and my father and husband cried while my mother and I did the “yes” sign because while we said we only wanted healthy, hells yeah we wanted a girl. Thing One, my millennial baby, had arrived.
She was supposed to be tiny, like five pounds because she was early. She was 6 and a half pounds. We have enormous babies in our family. I was a nine pounder. Not surprising I was also the last baby. Anyway, everything checked out great with her, except a bit of jaundice, something about not keeping herself warm enough, and oh yeah, she didn’t cry. At all. The doctors kept poking at her but she was like, what? They took her to the nursery, and I saw this part on film. They bathed her and combed her hair and she looked mildly annoyed but still didn’t cry. When they put her back in the bassinet she was just lying there, waving her arms and legs, studying the dust motes. A doctor said he was tempted to put a chemistry book in there with her, since she was so serious.
Thing One continued to sleep through the day and part of the night (except the part where we usually go into a deep sleep) for about a month. I think she was trying to get in what she missed in the womb. It was great, though, because she totally became my doll. I dressed her in her new clothes, sat her in the bouncy seat, took pictures, dressed her in different clothes, etc. There was a lot of pink. My husband said it was like someone threw up pepto bismal all over the closet. I liked pink though, so I thought it was great. My friend and I dragged her everywhere with us. To the movies (snore), to the mall (snore), to get professional pictures made (snore and drool).
Then my friend had to go back home. And I was alone. With baby. And holy crap, she woke up, and woke up in a big way. And things have never been the same since. She continued, as she grew, to not do what the baby books said she was supposed to do when she was supposed to do it. She scoffed at the growth charts – who needed to be on those? Petite was totally in. And why crawl or walk when someone got you crap when you needed it? She did all these things eventually, just not “on time”. She did hum “Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star” to herself as an infant, as she lay in her crib perfectly content, still staring at the dust motes. That wasn’t in the baby books. So I tossed them. I loved my Thing One just like she was. And I thought, wow, she’s such a good baby mostly, sitting there calmly playing with toys, and so quiet and sweet, wow, this parenting thing is not that hard. What is wrong with some people? And then karma did raise its ugly head, and I got pregnant with Thing Two. But that’s another baby story.
and you wouldn’t be without ’em 🙂
Yeah, they’re a great excuse to act immature. Um, yes, they needed me to buy this dollhouse . . . and all the furniture.
Maybe us mother’s should write up a book on the real deal; ”what the baby books don’t tell you”
I think so too. You know another thing that annoys me? Super rich and/or famous mommies that write books on the “trials” of being a mommy and sometimes not getting in yoga, tennis, and a manicure while Nanny takes care of your snotty nosed kids. I want to smack these people.
I threw out the baby books too because they made me feel schizophrenic. My son didn’t do all the things he was supposed to either. Maybe because everybody’s different? Nah, that can’t be it.
Oh–and demerol? I loved me some demerol. I felt such discomfort and pain after my gallbladder surgery and then demerol was injected into my IV and it was like it never even happened, and everything was beautiful.
Did you see rainbow ponies? People thought my husband was terrible for watching Nascar. He could have been watching porn and I wouldn’t have given a damn. Wheeeeeee!
I am thinking of writing a post on Thing Two’s “testing” for preschool. The experts are total morons and don’t get that they’re being conned by three-year-olds.
If “How to bring up a baby” books are as useful as “How to train your puppy” books, whomever write that crap should be trial and put in jail for life.
Dave Barry defines parenting experts as people “whose children wet the bed through college.”
No crying? That’s awesome. My daughter didn’t stop crying for the first six months of her life. And when she cried, she cried HARD.
Yeah, she learned the crying thing plenty later, but it was hilarious how the first day she was just takin’ it all in, being mellow. The doctors couldn’t figure her out.
I got fentanyl. It was like a shot of tequila without the nasty taste. I was warm and fuzzy and so totally thrilled with it all. Then it wore off, which sucked because my little girl took 32 freaking hours to make her appearance. But then she was a doll. A total and complete doll, and as quiet too. She spoiled me, the little trickster.
Oh, man, wait till you hear my other baby story – it was closer to that one. I wanted drugs and they would not give them to me and it’s amazing they survived.
Yes, Thing One did spoil me. I had a friend watch her and came back a couple hours later and she said “She just sat there and played with her toys and didn’t make a peep wtf???” I thought this was normal. Enter Thing Two.
Point noted, baby books are crap. Tell me more about this Demerol. It sounds magical!
Oh, man, it is SO FAR OUT.
With my first I never made it to any lamaze classes. I know how to breathe, right? I had no CLUE about an epidural so didn’t even ask. The one thing they gave me, fentanyl I think, wore off in like 97 seconds so that wasn’t helpful. Oh, and my big headed baby pushed on my tailbone the entire time, eventually it just gave up and broke to make room. That was awesome! NOT! With my second one I totally had a plan. I knew I wanted an epidural and I wanted it at the first sign of anything. Unfortunately by the time I agreed to lay down so the nurse could check me it was to late. I was already to the pushing stage. I tried to make a deal with her that I wouldn’t push anymore if she just gave me the drugs…yeah, she didn’t take the deal. In the end, I had nothing. And it sucked!
Your tailbone broke? And you did it again? WOW. I had back labor with Thing Two and an idiot nurse and doctor who . . . well that’s another post. Suffice it to say IT SUCKED too. At least she didn’t break a bone. She did bounced the hell out of my uterus and I ended up getting that out a couple of years later.
I wonder how many more people we have frightened away from parenting. We might be doing a service.
Her head was extra big (she’s 19 now and has grown into it!) and was pushing on my tailbone for 12 hours. Nobody believed me when I said something was wrong so they did nothing about it. 4 years later my then dr finally did an xray and discovered it had healed twisted and that’s why I was having so much pain. He suggested that he could re-break it and “set it” (not sure exactly how one does that but having a cast on my ass didn’t sound like my idea of a good time!) or maybe when I had another baby it would re-break and we could fix it at that time. MiniMe was born in less 2 hours with 3 pushes. Yeah, no broken bones with that one. Although to make up for the quick delivery I literally almost died about an hour after she was born. All I can say is that I’m really glad I live in the time where there are hospitals and not back in the days when moms had their babies in the field and kept working!
I have a couple of friends who are pregnant right now that don’t want to hear my birth stories. Thanks Alice for giving me a place to share!
Girl child slept through her first professional photo shoot. Wouldn’t wake up AT ALL. The photographer balked at talking her picture sleeping. Finally, they agreed to tuck a teddy bear under her arm “so people would know she was alive.” My question to them was “How often do you have studio shoots with dead ones?” I may have been a little postpartum-ish.
My parents said that if I had been like my sister as a baby, I’d have been an only child. I was apparently reasonably well-behaved and my sister was a nightmare. My sister now has 3 kids, which I feel means it’s perfectly all right for me to not want to have any of my own!