So Tired

Parenting is hard. 

Recovering from surgery and dealing with raging hormones and feeding a demanding baby who refuses to use his words is hard.

But he is just so beautiful, and I am told it will get easier. Although I was told a lot of things that ended up not being true...i.e. sex induces labor (ha), among others. However, I am clinging to the belief that this will get easier.

I am dreading Monday, when Rob has to go back to work, although luckily my wonderful mother is coming back to Seattle to help. I can't even begin to express how wonderful it was having her here the first week at home with Reed. And I am looking forward to my dad coming back in two weeks, although he had better be over his cough...

And Rob, wow. What an incredible father. He has such a calming effect on this child, and to an extent on me as well. Although I am already worried that Reed is more rational than I am.

Anyway...Parenting is hard. I am sure most of you already know that from experience. I knew it in theory two weeks ago, but wow, it is more true than anything else.

I can't even imagine doing this with eight infants. That Nadya is cuh-razy.

Reed is Six Days Old

Alright. Back in the blogging saddle...

It was just last week that I wrote, but life has changed.

That may be a bit of an understatement.

I hope this isn't overly personal. I am trying to share some of the details of Reed's birth without oversharing. Just be forewarned, this may be graphic, but I am trying to keep it pretty clean. 

Reed Elliot Chambliss arrived on Friday the 13th at 1:25 via an unexpected c-section.  It was a bit intense and I am still processing everything that happened over the course of my 12 hour labor and the six days that have since transpired. I am still a bit shell shocked from just all of it. But, in the end we have a wonderful little man.

We didn't really have a definite birth plan. The plan was to go natural and see how it worked out, but we didn't rule out drugs completely. Anyone who knows me, knows that I love drugs. Love them. Anyway, labor started quickly, none of that slow build-up promised in our birth class and all those books we read. I expected hours of mildly intense pain while I re-watched Arrested Development. That isn't really how it worked. I woke up at 11:30 with contractions that I thought were too painful and too close together. So blah blah blah, we went to the hospital, expecting to be told to go home, but we were admitted. 

Seven hours later, I was practically begging for the epidural. And, I've got to say, I wish I was always on an epidural. Just for day to day operations. They are fantastic. In those seven hours I made NO progress, despite the intensity and frequency of the contractions. The goal of the epidural was to get some sleep while my body continued to work. Well, I fell asleep and my body continued to work, but when I woke up from my much needed nap, I had still made no progress. It was at this point my midwife Cathleen, said the baby wasn't responding to the contractions and we might need to start thinking about a c-section. At that point, we figured it was still just an option, and that my body would start reacting the way it needed to. Even my doula thought at this point we still had time, and that this would be a good opportunity to go grab some food. Not 20 minutes had passed when Cathleen came back in and calmly but urgently said we needed to go to the operating room now. So....long story slightly shorter, they prepped for surgery, wheeled me down, and Reed was here at 1:25 pm.

I am still processing this whole story. I am trying not to dwell on the negative, but it gets hard. This is a more difficult recovery than I was expecting, and I can't stop thinking that my body failed me and failed Reed. Cathleen is definitely the crunchiest hippiest midwife at the practice, and the more I think about it, the more I realize that if she was so insistent on an immediate c-section, than something really must have been wrong. But I need to stop thinking this way.

I need to focus on my beautiful baby, who despite my concerns from earlier in my pregnancy, isn't three years early at all. He is wonderful and right on time. I already can't imagine my life without him. How cliche. But so true. I just can't stop staring at him. He is just perfect.

Now, I have never done this before but...

...won't I know when I have a baby?

I would think so, but I just called my midwives' office to double check on my appointment for tomorrow and they told me that my appointment had been canceled BECAUSE I HAD ALREADY DELIVERED!!!

As far as I know, I am still full of baby.

Ten days late. I think.

Killing time.

So, I don't know if this counts as that maternal "nesting" instinct that "they" keep talking about. My nesting doesn't seem to be manifesting itself as cleaning, but as actual literal nest building. Due to my extreme discomfort that comes as a result of being over 41 weeks pregnant, I decided to try sleeping on our air mattress in the living room. So basically, I have constructed a nest out of couch cushions, air mattress, various blankets, and a collection of used tissues that I would have thrown away if standing up wasn't so difficult. Anyway, this picture was taken from my nest at sunset. I think it's pretty. 

 Rob took this picture on our Green Lake walk on Saturday. I am proud to report that so far, I have not developed that pregnant lady waddle. I am still pretty upright, in fact, I was just doing this head stand across from the coffee cart at Green Lake.
Oh wait, that's not me, that is just some guy doing some yoga.

As much as I love actually walking around Green Lake, the last three times (all this week) as soon as I get home, I get so sore! I am told that walking is good for me, and that it will induce labor, but it is my own personal opinion now that I am overly pregnant, is that it is crap. I have tried all these old wives's tales, and Futureman seems quite content just where he is.

Just be warned Pal, eviction papers are coming. Sunday is your deadline. I don't care where you go, but you can't stay here! Is that the phrase? 

On another note, I am sitting here watching the presidential news conference about the economy. I certainly don't envy our President's situation. He inherited a shitty situation and is now being attacked as if he is the one that caused it. We all need to get along and make some concessions to one another in order to get this up and running. However, I would just like to say that he is so much more confidence inspiring than that last guy who stood behind that podium. What was his name again? Jackass? Anyway, policy aside, I just really think that Obama is so presidential. I like watching him interact with the press. Even when he uses the space fillers "uh" or "um", one can see that he is searching for appropriate phrasing, rather than a word that might (but often didn't) work like that last guy. All I can say is Thank Goodness and best of luck President Obama.

New Theory

By now, we should have color pictures of this child being held by adoring parents, grandparents, and friends. However, this is not the case and all we have is this face and arm shot of him taken through gel and my big fat belly. I am crossing my fingers that his hand looks that large due to a weird depth of field issue, rather than the fact that he is developing into a giant adult man inside my uterus. Maybe it is just that my maternal instinct hasn't kicked in yet, but I really think he'll be cuter on the outside.

Futureman is eight days late. Our midwives induce at 14 days. Our induction is scheduled for this Sunday, February 15th. So, regardless of what he decides, we should have a baby by the end of this week.

This is what I am thinking. Both of Futureman's parents are Holiday Babies. Rob is a pagan hippy with his winter solstice birthday, and my birthday is two days after Christmas and sometimes falls during Hanukah. Maybe he just wants to be part of the Holiday action and Valentine's Day was the best he could hope for. Of course, the 16th is President's day this year. Is that one of the holidays that moves around? Either way, if he gets the 15th, he'll be sandwiched right between February's finest days. If he plays this president's day thing right, he won't have to go to school on his birthday, ever, just like his parents. And there is no better gift than a day off from school.

Yes, we already tried that.

Yeah, that too.

Futureman is now six days late.

Stupid estimates.

Still no baby

Alright. It is now two days past the due date. I am the size of a planet, cranky, uncomfortable, and really see no end in sight. Futureman can't stay in there forever, right?