Tag Archives: Family

Never Wake a Sleeping Baby

At night, Scout likes to sleep, but she wakes up every 3-4 hours to eat. She’s been that way since we brought her home from the hospital…until about a week and a half ago.

7:55 PM: Scout goes to bed.

8:12 PM: Scout wakes up.

8:30 PM: Scout goes to bed again.

8:36 PM: I go to bed.

11:54 PM: I wake up and wonder why Scout isn’t up.

11:58 PM: Wonder if she’s still breathing.

11: 59 PM: Scout makes a noise. I figure she’ll wake up in the next 30 minutes.

2:27 AM: Wake up and realize Scout has been asleep for 6 hours straight! Jump out of bed to see if she’s breathing…she is.
image

2:31 AM: I realize my boobs are about to explode. I contemplate waking her up, but decide to pump instead.

2:40 AM: Pump only a little because I’m sure she’ll wake any second.

3:37 AM: Nudge Kiefer “accidentally,” and say, “Oh, good! You’re awake.Go check Scout. She’s been asleep for 7 hours and it’s freaking me out.”

3:38 AM: He checks and confirms she’s fine.

4:19 AM: Calm down enough to start to drift off.

4:27 AM: Scout wakes up after 8 hours of sleep in a row.

And that’s why I always get less sleep than Scout.


And Two Tylenols Later, A Baby Was Born

Guy in Childbirth Class: So…do you think my wife could just take a couple Tylenol and be ok through labor?

I wanted to smack him. Partially because earlier he insisted his punctured spleen from a car accident a couple years ago never really hurt.

I have a pretty high pain tolerance.

Translation: I cry only a little when I slowly peel off a band aid.

Taking this off will be a doozy.

Real Translation: Because needles freak me out, I won’t let the dentist numb me when filling cavities.

I’m that person nearly passes out at blood draws, and afterwards I feel stupid because I didn’t even feel the needle.

So I decided to last as long as I could drug-free and then assess the drug situation because…

  • I was a 9-pound (and however many ounces) baby.
  • Boo was a 23-inch long baby.
  • Radley was a 9-pound baby.
  • Our baby measured in the 70th percentile.
  • Except for her head. She’s in the 93rd percentile. Our baby has a big head.
  • After Sunday’s false labor contractions for over 12 hours, I almost slammed my head into the wall to knock myself out just so I could get some rest.

My birth plan said…

  1. Knock me out.
  2. Wake me up after the baby arrives.

I wish that had been an option. It actually said…

  1. Drugs: Maybe. Not Tylenol.

After laboring at home for 15-16 hours, I decided it was time to go to the hospital. When I got there, I was 7 centimeters dilated…and every nurse seemed concerned I was about to give birth in the hallway, so I asked for drugs that last an hour, hoping that was all I would need.

That resulted in me telling everyone that I made the staff red velvet cookies, and they should get one from the nurses station.

And after that sweet hour of mild relief with barely any more dilation, I asked for the epidural.

Kiefer: Are you sure you don’t want to try walking around first to see if it speeds things up?

Me: Kiefer…I’m done. I want…the epidural.

When you say someone’s name, they know you mean business.

When the anesthesiologist came in…

Anesthesiologist: How are you doing?

Me: I’m done.

Unfortunately for me, the baby hadn’t come out yet, so I wasn’t actually done.

One epidural and 3 hours later, I was 10 centimeters dilated with a bag of water still in tact. The midwife popped it, and we got the show on the road.

Then I noticed that I could see my legs and stuff in the reflection of the lamp light. I think that’s when my coochie snorcher decided it was done despite the baby still being inside.

After pushing for a bit, they turned down the epidural. After pushing for 4 hours with little progress and a baby suspected to be sunny side up, we discussed other options.

Scout finally arrived after nearly 29 hours of labor. The last 5-10 minutes was extremely unpleasant—I’ll leave it at that.

Her head was too big for my nether regions but not too big for this hat.

Hat


The Baby Came a Week Early…And There Was Much Rejoicing

LilanaGuess who decided to grace us with her presence a week early at 6-something AM on February 20th?

Congrats to Carrie, BlissfulBrit, and 1PointPerspective for guessing the correct day!

Let’s just call her Baby Scout to go with Boo and Radley.


Is It Time?

Kiefer: If the baby comes on Valentine’s Day, I don’t ever have to buy you a Valentine’s Day gift again, right? We’re good?

Um…no.

One of my coworkers was convinced the baby was coming on Valentine’s Day. She didn’t.

But on Sunday, after Kiefer and I finished our crab-filled Valentine’s Day brunch, I started having contractions, and I wondered if a President’s Day baby was in our future.

We spent 12+ hours timing contractions and alternating between walking Ozzy (contractions every 3.5 minutes) and putting my feet up (contractions every 5-7 minutes), and just when I was about to admit defeat, they finally subsided.

Contractions are jerks.

Apparently, crab is not a food that induces labor effectively. Unless I find out at tomorrow’s appointment that I’m dilated.

My due date is February 26th. The specialist is guessing February 18th or 19th based on her size. Technically, I could go till March 12th, but anyone who mentions that gets a swift kick to the face. TO. THE. FACE.

What’s your prediction?

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I can’t see Australia on this map so that must mean I have to buy 15 cases? Yes?”—Daile


My New Car Is Every 16-Year-Old Boy’s Dream

The two cars I’ve owned had only two doors. Since it was just me, I never needed a car with four doors.

Even that one extremely cold night in college when the girls and I decided…

  • Yes, we needed to go to that frat party.
  • Yes, all nine of us.
  • No, we weren’t going to walk even though it was less than a mile.

Don’t judge. It was all uphill, a little snowy, unwalkable in heels, and no one looks cute bundled up in winter gear. Also…

  • No, we couldn’t take two cars.

So all nine of us piled into my Ford Probe. Which was a less cool version of this one this exact one.

How do you get 9 people in that car? Easy: 1 driver, 2 in the passenger seat, 5 in the backseat, and 1 in the trunk.

Alas, those days are long gone. Strapping a baby into a carseat in the back of a two-door with one tween and one teen (who is now taller than me) seemed like a no go.

So Kiefer and I bought a grown-up SUV.

Or so I thought. My grown-up car has mood lighting.

light

How To Get In Someone’s Pants: Use blue mood lighting.

I may have just bought every 16-year-old boy’s dream car.

I’m totally going to get some.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Good news: IKEA sells cats. Bad news: Once you’ve gotten the tabby 3/4′s assembled, they hobble under the sofa, hiss at you and won’t come out.”—1pointperspective


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