Catching Up . . .

Well. It has been a little while, but I have been fairly busy trying to adjust to the whole "motherhood" thing. It's definitely different from anything I have ever done, since now my whole world revolves around this little creature. I never knew that I could feel so much pain, so much love, so much fear, and so much joy all at the same time. For those of you who didn't know, Benjamin Allen Cox was born on February 14th, 2008 at 4:56 p.m. I can't even say that labor was that bad, since I was only in it for a few hours before they rushed me in for a C-section. Recovery, however, has not been fun. I'll spare you the details, but I will say that my boobs are killing me! Anyway, he was two weeks early, but he weighed in at 7 lbs 10 oz and was 20 inches long--not too shabby. He may not be the world's cutest baby, but to me he is beautiful. He looks an awful lot like his Daddy, and he has a whole lot of hair. I just can't get over how amazing it is that something--someone--so miraculous could come out of me. I certainly am not worthy to be his mother, but Heavenly Father has seen fit to entrust me with this little soul so totally dependent on me. It is incredible. This is a link to my Picasa album with a few pictures of our little man. Enjoy! http://picasaweb.google.com/marynolancox/BabyBenjamin

This Is Getting Ridiculous!

Well. I'm not in the hospital yet, although I should have been 12 hours ago. Okay, okay, I should be waiting until my bag of waters breaks of its' own accord, but I'm not. I can't do it anymore! Today is the day! We got a lot done around the house yesterday--we actually have a living room, you can actually walk into baby's room, and there are only empty totes in the kitchen (i.e., most of the unpacking is complete). It's a nice feeling, to be able to sit at one's table and actually eat a meal while not trying to balance it on one's belly. Sure, there's plenty more to do, and I should probably start some laundry, but you just never know when they will call, and I'd rather not have a load sitting in the washer for days. I have taken a shower, put on some make-up, and I even did my hair. I haven't been this ready for anything in quite some time. I shaved yesterday, so I'm already getting prickly, but there's no way I'm shaving again until after monsieur makes his debut. WAY too much effort and too little reward. Should I call them again? I don't think they have forgotten me, but you never know. At this rate, I won't even be going in today! Okay, let's think positively, using our daily affirmations to control the pain: "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it--people like me shouldn't have to wait this long for a freakin' hospital bed!"

"Two Days."

"Four. Bare minimum if you want a decent Pan." You know that you know that quote . . . I admit it would be much more difficult if I hadn't watched the movie the other day. What's impressive, though, is that Allen stayed awake through the entire thing--quite a rare feat for him. Usually all it takes for him to fall asleep is about 30 seconds of non-movement. I wish it were as easy for me; I woke up just after 4 a.m. for my third trip to the potty, and I could not go back to sleep. So I started reading. Yesterday I picked up a Lamaze book (since I have been a slacker and haven't taken any classes . . .). It is quite interesting, and it basically tells me that everything that will happen in the next couple of days is unnatural and unhealthy. First, I should have chosen a midwife instead of an OB; I should have considered a 'birthing center' with a big fat whirlpool instead of a hospital; induction is not the best thing for either mother or baby; and I should do everything I can to avoid getting an epidural or using pain medication at all, etc. etc. Part of me is a bit panicky because I seem to have done everything wrong. But another part of me says "Bah." This is, technically, a high-risk pregnancy since I have the old Gestational Diabetes, and there is a lot that could go wrong. A hospital is the best place for me to be, since Benji may need some interventions to stabilize his blood sugar once the cord is cut. And I'm okay with that. I like my doctor, and thanks to the non-stress tests and such, I know that baby is healthy and good to go. I know a lot of research has gone into the design of the labor and delivery rooms at the new hospital, so they are probably quite friendly (here's hoping, anyway!). I'm not opposed to getting an epidural, but I am going to put if off for as long as possible. I want to be able to move around--I think that will help more than being drugged and bed-bound. For me, anyway--I cannot judge anyone else's birth experience, and I can't base my own solely on what others have done. So that's the plan. It also depends on who the anesthesiologist is--some of those guys are arrogant, incompetent jerks and I will not let them touch me. Sometimes ignorance can be bliss, but I'm glad I will know who that person is--the one who could be sticking a 5" needle into my spinal canal. You may call me crazy, and I'd probably have to agree with you. Some of my friends at work threw a small baby shower for me yesterday. It was very nice of them, and those who couldn't come to the "Princess" shower were able to attend yesterday. None of them resent me for not working--they all knew how tired and crabby I was toward the end--and that makes me happy. I'm still a bit disappointed in myself. I am feeling pretty good in general, my blood pressure is normal (usually) and my baby is happy, but I feel like I should be working. I do realize that it is probably because I'm not working that I'm feeling good; it's just hard to justify it in my little mind. Well, it's time to poke the old fingers again (can I just tell you how much I LOVE testing my blood sugar four times a day?! It's my favorite!). Thanks for reading. :o)