Giving birth was as horrible as I thought it'd be. It sucked. It was uncomfortable, long, and painful. Even with an epidural--which only totally numbed one side of my lower regions. Oh, and I threw up. (Mostly due to the pain and contractions during the time epidural ran out, though no one told me till after Wiggle Worm appeared.)
And of course the hip where Wiggle Worm got stuck on the way down was on the side where the epidural wasn't working.
So, after twenty seven hours of labor (fifteen which were spent at home, three which were spent walking around the hospital without pain killers waiting to dilate to three centimeters, as they wouldn't admit me till I was fully three centimeters (I was tragically only one when I arrived after fifteen hours of suffering), and at least one was spent in heavy labor without an epidural because the bag ran out), I spent two hours trying to push my kid out and not getting anywhere because she was stuck in my right hip. (She'd come down a little and go right back.)
I honestly have no clue why anyone would not want an epidural. Because even if it didn't fully work, how the hell does anyone deal with the pain without at least some of the edge taken off. (Granted, I am a huge wimp, so maybe I'm not the best person to ask?)
After twenty seven hours of pain and suffering (and cursing even thought Pilot Boy kept chiding me when I did), I was presented with a wiggly baby with a full head of hair and a skin tone at least three times darker than my own. Pilot Boy commented, "That baby's darker than you and she'd never seen the sun."
She clearly has her father's skin and not mine. (I'd make a vampire look tan.)
Anyways, after channeling a scene out of Kill Bill that freaked out the whole room, grossed out my husband, and went unnoticed by me as I was staring at the tiny being on my chest, the room cleared out and I was left behind with a baby and a tired husband. (I slept after they'd put the epidural in, but Pilot Boy didn't.) We spent two hours alone with our new baby, marveling at her and trying not to fall asleep.
I was exhausted. I don't even want to think about how I'd felt if I'd failed to sleep a bit.
So, two hours after I'd popped out a baby with a thirteen inch round head, Pilot Boy and the baby left to go to the nursery and I had to go to the bathroom.
They make you try to go like a normal person, even though I told them I wasn't going to be able to. After my appendix was removed, I couldn't go, so why would I be able now? No matter how many times I told them this, they refused to believe me and made me try. I might have been able to, as guess what? I really had to go. But, there was this stupid thing that was supposed to measure the amount that kind of was in the way. Add on the uncomfortable toilet, and there was no way I was going to go.
And upon seeing how swollen I was down there, I can't think why they'd thought I'd be able to go on my own in the first place.
Seriously, after not seeing anything down there for four months, I was rather shocked to see it again and it looking so alien. (Even if I knew this was going to happen. I read all about it.)
After having an argument with the nurse in charge of me with whether I ought to take a percocet without eating anything for over twelve hours (I do not have a good relationship with heavy duty pain killers that you take orally. Inject it into my butt and I'm fine, but give me a pill and it is all down hill), I was left alone for about a half hour till lunch showed up.
Lunch made me want to throw up, but the ibuprofen they'd given me shortly before they kicked me out of the birthing room (because the day Wiggle Worm was born was busy, so I went to a better room) wasn't doing anything for the pain, so I forced myself to eat some of it. (Seriously, do not give greasy lasagna or anything tomato based to someone who hasn't eaten for an extended period.) The nurse returned and made me take the percocet.
I took it, only because unlike vicodin, I can take one percocet without it making me sick. She seemed to think I was making a big deal out of nothing, but I know me. I know my reactions and I had told the nurse at the doctor's office, but clearly they didn't put that in my chart or anything as they were sitting there trying to shove the very drug I said didn't agree with me down my throat.
I only took one percocet and it knocked me out for four hours. Which was fine. We were all tired. But I didn't take it again. I just asked for ibuprofen when the pain got annoying.
The rest of the hospital stay was fine. I finally peed on my own the required three times (they won't release you till you pee three times) and my swelling finally began to go down enough they weren't freaking out. (It hadn't gone down any in the time between they tried to make me pee the first time and four hours later when I demanded they aid me in emptying my full bladder.) The baby was fine, so they released us the next day.
By five in the afternoon, forty eight hours after we'd left to go to the hospital, we were home.
While I was happy to be home, that night as I held a screaming child who refused to sleep, I wondered what the hell I was doing. I was exhausted, in tears, sore, and my ears hurt. (She can really wail.)
And I had to constantly pee.
I had read that a lot of women can't feel they have to pee after giving birth.
I felt like I had to constantly pee. For awhile, it was worst than my third trimester as I had to go every half hour. At least with the whole not sleeping thing (she seriously didn't sleep for almost twenty four hours unless one of us was holding her), it wasn't so bad. But, I did get tired of peeing as there is a huge production to going potty after giving birth.
And don't get me started on leaving the house...it was a huge ordeal and not due to the kid. It was simply me and all the crap I needed to go to the bathroom. Luckily I never had to go when we ventured out in those early days...
The other thing that was surprising was the fact I lost my ankles.
I hadn't noticed till we were home, but my feet were swollen. Like seriously swollen to the point I looked disfigured. I'd never read you get swelling AFTER giving birth. Well, in your feet. Other things I knew swelled.
I didn't fit into any of my shoes except my flip flops and even thought were too tight, as they left marks on my bloated feet.
Luckily, I didn't have to go anywhere other than the pediatrician and Wiggle Worm brought a cold spell, so I was able to wear pants that hid my feet and (lack of) ankles. It was seriously gross.
The other surprising thing?
I think I peed out most of my baby weight, as about a week after she was born I was back to only weighing eight pounds more than I did before I got pregnant. I had my waist back three days after giving birth (well, I had a waist. It is still two inches bigger than it was, but that's mostly due to the baby weight hanging out over my abs. And the fact my abs aren't back together yet). I was wearing my pre-baby jeans two weeks later and most of my shorts also fit for the most part. While most of my jeans are low rise, I clearly don't have a lot of low rise shorts. Anything that has to go up over my belly doesn't fit too well. And due to my boobs being larger than ever, none of my tops really fit still. (Stupid boobs.)
However, now that I can exercise again (it being six weeks), hopefully my shorts that are higher rise will fit in the next few months. And after I stop breastfeeding, my boobs will shrink. (I know, who wants their boobs to shrink? I do. I hate them. I've hated them since they began growing when I got pregnant.)
So, six weeks into this mother thing, what do I think?
At times I think: What the hell was I thinking?
At other times I think: OMG. She's adorable, but why won't she stop crying so I can eat/sleep/shower/potty?
Most of the time I think: I can do this. I can do this.
And evidently being a mother has calmed me down. My therapist was shocked to see how well I was put together and how clam I was there sitting in front of her. I've done a few things that I wouldn't have done before (went to OKC for the day...to an air show. Only someone forgot to put the stroller in the car, thus we wound up going to Panera. OMG, I miss civilization).
Thing surprising about my baby girl?
1. She's a super pooper. What does that mean? Well, you know how boys spray pee everywhere so they tell you to cover them whilst changing them? Yeah, so my kid does that with poop. I'm not sure how such a little body can put out so much force, but she's sprayed poop all over the walls of her room, the curtains and anything with in reach. The first time she did it my parents were here and they heard me shout, "SERIOUSLY!?"
My mom came to see what had me screaming and shouting.
She was pretty shocked to find the room near the changing table covered in orange goop.
And then my baby girl peed all over the wall.
Yeah, she sprayed pee as well. On the wall. She'd peed all over herself and the changing pad before, but never did I think she'd hit the wall. She wasn't even pointed in the direction of the wall, but she peed on the wall.
(She also projectile spit ups. I think her favorite past time is to get Mom wet.)
2. She is utterly determined to move. (Hence Wiggle Worm.) While in the womb, she did a lot of wiggling, not a lot of kicking. Hence, the Baby Earthquakes. Anyways, so she came out and she wiggled.
All the time.
She always has to have her hands free, so when we wrapped her up, she'd unwrap herself. (Then wail because she was no longer snug as a bug.) Also, when we began to put her on her back on her play mat, she would always be kicking and waving her arms. When we began putting her on her tummy she'd move her legs like she wanted to crawl, but was prevented because she failed to use her arms and her head didn't come up. She pivots around her head in a circle, powered by her super long legs.
3. My kid is all limbs.
Seriously.
She has long arms, long legs, long toes, long feet, long fingers, and a somewhat long torso. She is just freaking long.
I had no legs upon birth. I was just a torso with some feet.
