Two, Part One...

It is 2:30 in the morning on May 30, and I cant sleep. My body is aching and I cant stop peeing.

Why does this feel like deja vu to me??

Oh, because it is. Except last time, two years ago, at this same exact time of night, on the same exact date...  I was in labor with our baby boy.

We didn't know he was a boy at the time; but we did know I was 9 days overdue, I had eaten Cold Stone the night before, and it had put me into serious labor... in my ass. Who knew that you could have contractions in your ass?? Not me for one.

((Side note: Hey Cold Stone, if you're out there: I have been telling pregnant women everywhere to forget the hot wings and Mexican food, and instead go right for the most to-die for goodness you can offer to go into labor. No big deal, but if you want to send me a gift card, you can put me into labor again any time after the next 9 weeks pass.... please and thank you.))

I remember waking up Husband and saying, "I keep having terrible, uncomfortable gas pain in my butt..." and he said, "Go back to bed." Awesome. Super helpful. Thanks.

By the time I called the Doctor two hours later, and they told me I was indeed in labor, the gas/contractions were coming every 3 minutes.

I will spare you the 'every last disgusting details', details. Some people are into them, I am not.

The long and short of it is (the less detailed details):

We walked around the Maternity Ward for an hour and a half trying to get me to dilate. I remember begging Husband to let me stop at the end of the hallways, leaning onto the walls, and silently whispering every four letter word in the book.

I was a very quiet little lamb when I was in labor. I swore like a freaking sailor, not the mouth of a mother-to-be for sure, but it helped keep me calm. I am not sure where the whispering came from, but it, along with yoga breathing (in through the nose, out through the mouth) was super helpful in keeping me focused.

Eventually they admitted me, for no good reason except I was due for an induction the next day, and already 9 days overdue. They gave me pitocin a few hours later, which did nothing but give me terrible, horrible, wooden bat to my kidneys, type back labor. I never dilated. Not even to a two.
It was a long and frustrating day.

Somewhere around 8 pm, I was on oxygen, and Lovebug was in distress if I turned to my right side. So, they came in, beat around the bush a bit, and finally said, "How do you feel about a C-Section?"

If I could have booty danced down the hallway I would have. I did not give a SHIT about having the natural birth yada, yada experience. I did my part; 18 hours of back labor, and a baby with a dropping heart rate is where I give up. I wanted a healthy delivery; not pushing a watermelon through the Playdough Factory to get one, was a bonus as far as I was concerned!! C-Section? Yes, Please!

At 8:56 pm they pulled Lovebug out of my big ol' belly, and announced, "It's a BOY!"

I was a delirious, over-medicated mess. I passed out every few minutes for a little while, but I remember this:

The sound of Lovebug screaming was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard in my life. I didn't realize that I had been holding my breath for nine (ten) months, waiting to hear that very sound. The sound of life.

Husband was crying. He didn't even cry at our wedding, but the alligator tears were flowing big time for our first born.

When Husband held Lovebug in his arms and showed him to me for the first time, the very first words I said were, "He looks like a bull dog, not like an alien," before promptly passing out cold.

I missed it, since I was in la-la land, but Husband says the anesthesiologist (who called himself "The Bartender") laughed and said, "That's just because he's yours, hunny."

They tell me I was a friggin' riot on the operating table; ball busting the nurses and asking the Doctor 17 times if he was really, really sure he had taken my placenta out. They also tell me I gave Skinny Sis exact directions as to where I was, my room, the hallway, what to say. They say I called one of my oldest friends and gave her a quick update on all there is to know about having a C-Section.

I remember none of this.

I know Hunny and Pop-Pop, and Grandma and Grandpa came because there are pictures. I know Skinny Sis cried when she saw her Godson for the first time, and I know I looked like I was beaten with bats, while fighting a war alone, and drinking all the water in the ocean at the same time.

I know for sure that Husband was amazing.

Our roles switched for those few days; he was the caretaker, and I was, the... man? Maybe "patient" is a better term. Husband essentially taught me how to breast feed, because he listened to every detail the nurse said, and I didn't. He helped me up and down the stairs, through back labor, and many sleepless nights. I didn't know he had the nurturing gene in him until I couldn't take care of myself, and I still to this day, am in awe of how well he handled everything. (He in turn, wishes he hadn't done such a good job, so I wouldn't know he is fully capable).

The next few days were a whirl wind. Lovebug and I had 30 visitors in the Hospital his first full day of life. This time around Husband and I plan to make some rules for Visitors, with no exceptions. We didn't know then that if you say, "Sure, come to the hospital,"... they will come... every last one of them, and they will each stay for an hour.

Two years later, on that very same night, and here I am again with gas pains (pregnancy is a lot of things, but 'glamorous' is not one of them, people). This time though, I am 28 weeks pregnant, not 41, and it is because I ate pizza for dinner, and baby Number Two (Little Bug)  much prefers fruits and veggies to junk food (damn).

I am also a sentimental, sad Mommy, that my little Lovebug is already two, and getting bigger and more independent everyday. It is true what they say. Those little, tiny balls of flesh come into this world and immediately steal your heart and soul, and never, ever give it back . The love and joy that Lovebug has brought to our lives is more than I ever imagined possible. I didn't know I could love so hard, so much.

I am so proud of who he is, and so scared of the day when he wont need me anymore.

For now, I am waiting until 8 am, when I can wake him up to see the balloons in his room (just like my mom did for us) and take him to a parade for his Happy Day Day. Of course, he doesn't even know what it means to have a birthday; but the pit in my stomach and my heavy heart let me know that I sure as hell know my Baby is growing up, and I dont like it one bit.

Either that, or that pizza is really getting to me and I am in labor again. Oh God.


  1. Congrats on the pregnancy!! So true about the visitors, we will be establishing said rule also (if we are ever so lucky as to be blessed with Baby #2). It sure is hard to imagine life without kids once you have them , what I wouldn't do for that sweet little girl of mine.

  2. Awesome story, but all I can think about is that your son sleeps until 8 o'clock! How did you ever accomplish that?


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