So I gave up pregnancy for Lent

March 11, 2008

We said we would never do it again. We were comfortable with getting 8 hours of sleep per night, and being able to travel, drink and be merry. And then we did it. We got pregnant again. What ever were we thinking? Lola needs a sibling, I said. Being an only is lonely. So here we are starting all over again.

This pregnancy felt longer than ever. I had the typical issues, plus the ones that only I seem to be blessed with. As it dragged on, my fluid levels dropped lower and lower, and my placenta started to look old and tired on ultrasound. To add to the discomfort, I managed to fall flat on my back on our icy porch at week 35. Since I was holding Lola at the time, she managed to fall flat on my stomach. I think that some kind of primordial "protect your offspring at all costs" instinct kicks in whenever you are about to have an accident while holding a child. This causes you to not throw your hands out to protect your own ass from the cement, instead clutching said child as close to your body as possible in order to keep her from making contact with the cold hard ground. Needless to say, I really busted my ass on the ice, and had to spend a night in the hospital with contractions. They were able to stop them with the most horrifying shots possible, and after a lovely sleepless night I got to go home on bed rest. (By the way, total cost for my night in the "spa": $3000.)

Finally, my poor body could take it no more. After one of my many scheduled NST's and ultrasounds, the doctor decided it was time to induce. The baby would be 17 days early. Labor was ok until the kid decided to get all turned around in there, resulting in back labor. This is the most painful type of labor I can imagine. About that time I said "epidural please" but my hopes of pain relief were shattered as the anesthetists were tied up in surgery. They said 20 minutes, but an hour later I was pushing, with no epidural. The doctor barely slid into the room in time to catch, and 3 pushes later, Rowan was born.

For the first 2 weeks, he was basically inert. He was the total anti-Lola. He slept, ate, and pooped, and that was about it. Where she would scream and refuse to sleep, he sort of did an imitation of a baby shaped slug. Then at 2.5 weeks, he decided to wake up and become a real baby. Screaming commenced, and he decided night time might not be for sleeping after all.

Overall, he is a pretty good baby. He still sleeps a lot, eats a lot, and is a championship pooper, and his screamy time is just a few hours in the evening. I hear this is sort of normal for babies, so I am not letting it get me down. He is also the fartiest baby I have ever been around. If he was lighter, he might just sail around the room with his own personal jet propulsion system.

Lola loves her baby brother. When she came to the hospital to see us, the first thing she asked was "can I pet him?" She is definitely a vet's daughter!

Well, today is my first adventure home alone with both kids all day, and I have Lola's "loo loos" (noodles) on the stove and Mr. Farty McFart is waking up, so I should go.