Birth Day

We arrived at the hospital promptly at 9 a.m., after arguing with Lurch (aka hospital security guard) about where we were and were not permitted to park. On the labor and delivery floor, we were taken to triage and given a tiny curtained-off cubicle to wait in, as all the rooms were taken by women actually having babies. So of course, I broke into tears, crying that this was my worst nightmare. Jed, too, was upset, but we both decided to try to make the best of the situation. So the nurse and a student came in, and started an IV (I didn't realize there would be so much blood--ugh)for the required two bags of saline needed prior to surgery. She said she'd come back to start my catheter, and I was like, "uh, my doctor said that wouldn't be done until AFTER the spinal was in place," to which she said ok, but that it really wasn't that big a deal, and if I let her just go ahead and do it, I wouldn't have to have my hoo-ha hanging out in the operating room for all the world to see. Trusting in this kindly person in the white outfit, I agreed that I could handle it. Uh, please trust me on this...If anyone ever tells you that a catheter is "no big deal," THEY ARE LYING. It was truly horrible, worse than any other part of my hospital stay.

They took me almost directly down to the surgical suite, with me bitching the entire time about how much the catheter hurt. Outside the door they had me put on a cafeteria-lady-looking hair cover, and gave Jed his booties and mask. I don't even remember telling Jed goodbye before they wheeled me into the surgery room, but I do remember shaking, extremely nervous. There were tons of people milling around the operating table, and everyone was very chatty. Two nurses sat me up to get the spinal, one holding my shoulders, the other holding my hand. It was honestly no big deal--felt kinda like a really deep bee sting. And then, just tingly and warm in my legs, followed by complete numbness.

They let Jed come in after the spinal and gave him a chair right by my head. My arms were out to the sides, but not restrained. Jed just held my hand while the surgery began. I didn't feel anything at all. It took about ten minutes for the baby to come out. It's all a little blurry in my mind, but Dr. Heidtman held him up over the curtain, and he was all gray and slimy and the most precious thing I've ever seen. They then took him over to another part of the room, to do all the wiping off, weighing, etc. that they do. A nurse told Jed he could come over, and so he went with the baby. I asked the doctor if he was ok, and he said that the baby was perfect. I'll let Jed write about the time he spent with Cole in those first minutes...from what he's told me, it felt very surreal to him.

So after a few minutes, Jed came back to me, holding Cole. He was gorgeous--round head, perfect skin. We sat together, the three of us, while the surgery was finished.

March 29 was, without a doubt, the most wonderful day of my life. I cannot explain the overwhelming and perfect joy that we felt...it was like, well, being in the presence of God, as dorky as that sounds. But there is no other experience in my life that could even come close to comparing to Cole's birth. I'd write more, but the little beast is grumpy and demanding some attention.

And so the beat goes on...

As you have read in our previous post Sara is going through the wars at the moment and is finding difficulty coping on an emotional level.
But to be truthful she is doing rather a spendid job overall. I think it just a matter of time until she adjust to this new life that we have been blessed with.
Not to belittle what she is going through I would however like to express our absolute joy and wonder at what has happened to us.
It is quite amazing to me how much the captain has changed my life and how everything has changed. Many people said to me before he was born that this would change my life and that his birth would be a defining moment in my life. I would for the most part just nod and say that I agreed with them. But here's the kicker, I truly didn't understand them back then. And this IS the most defining time of my life. The emotional impact was massive. I didn't know....I DIDN"T KNOW!!!
I can honestly say that I really didn't understand what love was until I saw my son's face. Don't get me wrong I have loved before and I loved Sara with all my heart before the captain arrived. But his arrival hightened that love to a degree I didn't realize was possible. And Captain Cole, Wow....I mean Wow... I cant explain and I'm sure I don't have to, to all the parents reading this but to those of you who don't have kids, you guys have no idea what is in store for you. I look at my son's face and I just want to crawl into him, the love is so intense I cant hold it together at times. I truly had never felt joy like I felt on the day he was born.
I love him so much and I love his mother so much more now.
I hope and pray that things will get better for her because although I know that she loves him as much as I do, of that there is no doubt, I wish she could enjoy him as much as I am doing right now.
I love to comfort him and feed him and hold him and change his diaper and sing to him and sleep with him and hear his little breaths when he sleeps and sounds when he is feeding and I even love to hear him cry (but not too long).
My friend Emmett came to the hospital the day after Cole was born and made the comment that I was 'drunk' on him.
And that's exactly what I am.
I'm drunk on him.
And I hope I feel like this for the rest of my life.

Jed

Baby Blues

I've been debating whether or not to continue the blog, and I think I will, at least for a while, if for no other reason than for my own sanity...

I'll eventually write our birth story here, but for now I just need to vent. Maybe after I write this I'll feel a little better. It certainly can't hurt.

Motherhood is...immensely more difficult than I thought it would be. Now, I don't think that I had a particularly romantic vision of how things would go--I've been around babies enough to know that it's often not a walk in the park. But listen up, future parents--all the rules go out the window when it's your own child. Trust me on this. Doesn't matter how much you know, or how much experience you have. As soon as that baby exits your body, gone is your "this is how you raise a child" plan.

It's not the taking care of him that's difficult; I can make a bottle and change a diaper like a champ. What's killing me is my emotional instability. I'm officially nutso, and I can't seem to shake the craziness. I find myself, at least ten times a day wondering, "What the hell did we get ourselves into?"

My life has been reduced to a never ending cycle of feedings, diaper changes, and trying (often without success) to comfort this little human. Taking a shower is the extent of my daily beauty routine. I haven't dried my hair or put on makeup in ages. I can't wear any of my clothes. I don't have anywhere to go or anyone to see or anything to do...and it's really hard. I miss my mom being here--so much. I really just want someone to talk to, someone who understands and can tell me that it's going to get better and it's going to be ok and all worth it in the end. I think I have what they call the "baby blues," and it'll pass. I hope that it does, and soon, because I'm really worn out from feeling so much anxiety.

The captain, on the other hand, is doing fantastically. Yeah, he has his moments where we can't comfort him, and he isn't the best at pooping...but he's eating more and more everyday. He's also getting into a better routine, and sleeping a bit more on his own now. He's cuter than ever...His cheeks are getting chubbier and he's just generally filling out. We breastfed for about five days, but it just wasn't working (although, let me give Cole credit for his exemplary talent at "latching on." He was like a little pirranah). Bottle feeding makes me feel a little guilty, like I am not giving him the best, but it is a great deal easier, and it's something that Jed can share with him.

I can't wait to see his firth real smile...He is a precious, precious little guy. It kills me when he cries, and I can't leave him to "cry it out," which drives Jed crazy. But I'm torn--I know that he needs to expend some energy, but all the books and experts are adamant that it's impossible to spoil a child before four months, and that the best thing to do is comfort them and let them know that the world is a safe place. So--I just don't know what to do with that. Thankfully, he doesn't cry often unless he really needs something. I'm praying that he doesn't develop colic; I don't know how I'll survive that if he does.

So yeah, it's a mixed bag right now. Jed reminds me that it WILL calm down, and it will get better, and I'm trying to have faith in that. Jed is an amazing father, truly. He has a way of comforting the Bean that I just don't. And more than that, he helps me to be a better mom, because he supports me so very much. I don't think that I could do it without him; his optimism and kindness keep me going.

Sorry that this has been such a disjointed entry; alas and alack, such are my thoughts as of late. Thanks to everyone who visited or sent a gift when we were in the hospital...You guys are the best! And to all of y'all who have dealt with my crazy ass during the pregnancy and now the postpartum time, have faith--sooner or later the old Sara will be back.