Tag Archives: Life

You Can Read the Post, But I Know You Just Want to See the Picture

This is life with a newborn. At least mine.

Day 1: Realize you’ve been up for about 40+ hours when you finally go to sleep.

Night 1: Your baby won’t sleep in the crib and will only sleep next to you in the bed. Expect every nurse to yell at you, and feel relief when they don’t.

Day 2: Thank goodness for the hospital gown.

Night 2: Realize you have the best baby ever because she sleeps for about 5 hours straight.

Day 3: Fight the urge to burn the hospital gown. Count every minute until you can leave the hospital.

Night 3: Five hours of straight sleep turns to 3 hours…and she won’t sleep in the crib at home.

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Don’t be fooled: She’s resting in the hospital bed on a pillow.

Day 4: Wonder if your baby was bitten by a radioactive spider because that’s the only possible explanation for the color of her poo.

Night 4: Your baby refuses to sleep in the crib. Have visions of a teenager still sleeping between you and your husband.

Day 5 AM: Snicker at your husband for having to change a diaper he put on 30 seconds before.

Day 5 PM: Curse karma when you go through 3 diapers before you can even get the baby off the changing table.

Night 5: Your baby spends part of the night in the crib! Although you’re initially excited, during an early morning potty break, stop by the crib and hold your breath until you see her little chest rise up and down.

Day 6: Poke your baby while she’s in the crib because you can’t tell if she’s breathing.

Night 7: Your baby spits up all of the milk in her tummy around 11 PM. Spend the rest of the night nursing her every hour to make up for it.

Night 8: Realize you’ve never been so thankful to wake up to nurse every 3 hours again.

Day 9: Wonder if the hospital will deliver food to your house.

Day 14 AM: You are wiped. Worry that exhaustion has finally set in.

Day 14 PM: Realize a fever should not come with normal exhaustion. Begin antibiotics for mastitis.

Day 15: Hear that your stitches are healing nicely. Walk the dog for the first time in weeks.

Scout is 3 weeks old tomorrow!


Monday Movie Menagerie: This Post May Save Your Life

Lately, I’ve been watching a lot of movies. I’ve also been falling asleep during a lot of movies, which has made writing a Movies Teach Us post difficult.

Here are the bits and pieces of what I’ve learned from the movies I’ve watched over the past month. Feel free to add your own lessons learned.

Hansel and Gretel

  • Never walk into a house made of candy.

Don’t go in. The candy isn’t worth it.

  • If you’re going to kill a witch, set her on fire.
  • Gretel’s a biter.

Red Dawn

  • When stealing supplies, remember the bucket of soda.
  • Living Call of Duty isn’t as much fun as playing it.

The Hangover Part 3

  • You don’t have to have friends to play Word with Friends.
  • Giraffes and bridges don’t mix.

Pretty Woman

  • Your arm from your wrist to your elbow is the same size as your foot. (I checked this on myself. It’s true.)

I saved this Wrong Turn 4 for last because…well…I’m not really sure what I was thinking when I watched it. Has any movie that’s made it to #4 ever actually been good?

It did, however, provide a lesson that I’m sure all of us will use some day.

Wrong Turn 4

  • When inbred cannibals are killing and eating you and your friends, don’t lock them up. Just kill them. It is not the time to pull the “We can’t kill them. We’re not like them” holier-than-thou stance. They will escape and eat you.

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


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


More Snow? Screw TP! We Need Booze!

You’ve probably heard about the crazy cold weather we’ve been experiencing this winter.

Because expected snowfall maps in inches have been done to death, this is the new snow map:

I live in the “15 cases” region. Since I’m pregnant, this map makes me a little sad. I haven’t found a hot chocolate equivalent map.

But we have ice cream and Girl Scout cookies, so we’ll be fine.

Up until this point, the snow we’ve gotten has been manageable. Sure, the kids haven’t had a full week of school since Thanksgiving, but inchwise, we haven’t gotten more than 6-8 inches of snow with each storm.

All of that changes today. I can no longer see the tires on Kiefer’s car. That’s how much we have right now, and it’s still coming down. How tall are Honda Accord tires?

What does that mean exactly?

It means bread, milk, and TP will be worth more than gold for the next few days.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Have you considered dressing like that for the remainder of the pregnancy?”—Omawarisan


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