A baby story (a year later)

So I realized in my earlier baby blogged I briefly glossed over the subject of my sons birth. I’ve decided to tell you the whole real story of how that day came to be. Here goes nothing folks. Here is how it went.

July 22nd ish. I go see the doctor for my now weekly check ups.

Shannon: Am I dilated yet?

Doctor: No

Shannon: I’m ready to not be pregnant any more doctor how much longer till you can just get him out?

Doctor: I don’t know at least until your due date wait till then and we will talk about it.

Shannon: Whatever I thought you liked me. You do realize its 500 degrees outside don’t you? Doesn’t your office have air conditioning whatever I’ll see you in a week mean doctor.

July 29th is: I go to the doctor. This is after my third week of hearing I am not even kind of dilated.

Nurse: Do you even want an exam today or do you want to just wait

Shannon: (Turning bright read and about to rip the red hair right out of this bitches head) YES I WANT A FUCKING EXAM WHY WOULD I HAVE COME HERE IF I DIDN’T? I DIDN’T COME HERE JUST TO SEE YOU

Nurse: I’ll get the doctor

Shannon: (gives death eyes to nurse until she has left the room)

Doctor: Now Shannon you need to be nice to my staff

Shannon: Whatever I’ll be nice when you say I’m getting this kid out

Doctor: Lets do your exam

Shannon: Am I dilated yet

Doctor: I’ll tell you what to be nice we will say you are dilated 1” but really you aren’t even that.

Shannon: Doctor get this kid out I’m not playing around anymore.

Doctor: Okay fine we will do an ultrasound and see how he is coming along and then we will discuss it.

Shannon: Yeah that’s right we will discuss it


Later that day I have an ultrasound and I get to see my little guys mushed up nose (which I could already tell was totally Filipino) and his little man parts again. Doctor says we can schedule the C-Section for Monday his due date because it looks like this kid will be big and I probably won’t be able to deliver. FINE BY ME.

So I’m driving home and no joke its about 500 degrees out. In fact it is so hot that my ultrasound photos turn black in the car. I have a minor melt down over this and call everyone I know crying while desperately trying to hold them up the them air conditioning I my car.

Now wait before you yell at me that I took the easy way out I want to say something. Are you a mom? If so then you know that being a mom comes after the kid is born not from pushing them out. Also when was the last time you had your guts pulled out and put on your chest and then had 20 staples in your belly and were told you couldn’t get out of bed or eat food for 2 days? YEAH THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT SO SHUT IT.

Anyway I call everyone and tell them about the news that we will be having Brandon Monday August 1st 2005 at 4:00 PM. Then I realize holy shit I have to go through a whole weekend knowing that I’m about to have a baby. Whoah. Oh ya did I mention that he hadn’t dropped down at all so I also got to spend a whole weekend in pain of having him sit right in that spot that hurts like hell.

SATURDAY

Wake up run to babies room and check that baby bag is packed. It is. Check that all of his onsies are folded and organized by size, color and how much I like them.

Have some lunch and then panic wondering why I didn’t pack pants and a jacket for his hospital bag in case it snows in August in the 800-degree weather. I immediately run to the baby room pull out the entire contents of the baby bag and resort it all this time adding a matching onsie, pants, jacket, hat and booties. I then reorganize the bag into a way that makes far more sense then the previous time.

Run to bedroom to check out mommy bag. Immediately unpack and repack bag and then decide I better run to Wal-Mart and buy some new pajamas and other random unnecessary stuff. At Wal-Mart I find about 30 baby things I realized I had forgotten and can’t live with out. Rush home to unpack and repack baby bag with all new baby items in a much better order then before. Double check all new baby clothes are washed, ironed and hung according to color, size and likability in his drawers and closet.

Get bored and take myself to Burlington coat factory and look at baby clothes. Purchase brand new bringing baby home outfit and rush home to wash it and repack baby bag with new outfit on top.

Decide I need to buy baby diapers and rush out to buy one pack of Luvs new born diapers. (Note to new moms. Do not do this, 1. They give you a pack of awesome Pampers in the hospital, 2. You shouldn’t purchase shit till you have the kid and find out what really actually works.)

Finally I decide to have some dinner and write a letter to my unborn child. I am bored out of my mind. Doze off to sleep, wake up to pee 8,000 times, groan about being uncomfortable and finally nod back off.

SUNDAY
Wake up immediately pissed off that I can not eat anything for a whole fucking day. DO YOU KNOW THAT TELLING A PREGNANT WOMAN SHE CAN’T EAT IS THE MEANEST MOST EVIL THING YOU CAN DO? I wander around the house looking at all the food I can’t eat and start organizing everything for when the baby comes. Drink my 8th cup of water for the day making sure I soak it all up since I can’t have any after 8PM.

Start calling my doctor names like Hitler and Stalin due to lack of food and his goofy ass rules. Curse at my husband because he is eating and I’m not. Curse some more because he doesn’t stop eating and keeps eating instead of starving with me.

Run in to make sure the baby bag didn’t unpack itself and decide I better double check the contents once more. I unpack it all, lay it on the floor and inspect it all. I finally repack it in a way that is far better then all of the previous ways. Freak out and realize I should pack a blanket for the baby to come home in. Double check that the car seat that has been installed for two months is still in fact installed in my car and hasn’t been stolen by evil car seat stealing neighbors.

Go inside and see that husband is still eating and now I’m really pissed. Decide I should probably check my bag and make sure that the house is cleaned. I reorganize my bag and pack some stuff for my husband.

Go to sleep and wake up a gazillion times to pee and don’t sleep really any at all.

MONDAY
Wake up and realize that I’m having a baby today. Sit down with husband to have a serious talk with him about the fact that the next time we leave we will be coming home with a baby. Whoah dude.

Start really freaking out about how parched I am and begin cursing the devil doctor for leaving me starving and thirsty.

Get bored and decide to go rearrange the babies room and make sure its all ready for when he comes. The baby bag catches my eye and I decide it might be a good idea to look at it with fresh eyes and make sure its really packed right. Unpack and repack it in a way that makes far better sense then last time.

Finalllllly 2:00 rolls around and we get to go to the hospital. On the way there my husband thinks that he is really funny and stops at Mcdonalds for lunch. I ponder the idea of divorcing him on the day that our son is born. We arrive at the hospital and my husband goes into the waiting room with his tail between his legs to enjoy his delicious French fries with out getting the death stare from his wife.

I get admitted to a room and family starts trickling in. First my grandpa comes and then my grandma. They immediately separate into different areas of waiting rooms as they can’t be around each other unless it is to say negative things about each other. Cousin and her daughter arrive just in time to find grandparents have indeed found some family to bash (actually they were bashing her) and she asks them to be adults just this one day.

Evil insane mean Hitler nurse comes in and informs me that I need to be shaved better then I am. Proceeds to RIP a dry bic over my private region numerous times until I explain that if she doesn’t leave the room I will be stuffing that hair up her nose. Look down at my now puffy, red and spotted girly area and begin cursing the doctor for not letting me do that at home WITH SHAVING CREAM PEOPLE.

Next nurse comes in and I beg for a drink of water. She comes back with the worlds smallest cup and says it isn’t water but I can drink it. I leap for the midget cup guzzling down the contents before I realize she has given me liquid gasoline mixed with whiskey and urine. Not really, actually it was some sort of crap that was supposed to make me not puke when they gave me the IV.

In comes big mean nurse with a stick up her ass. Tells me it is time for my IV. Jams needle into arm making me curse and cry at the same time. Proceeds to tape it down so its pressed so far into my veins that my skin is actually wrinkled and stretched under the piece of tape that she has slapped on me with no regard whatsoever for how I feel.

Finally they say that it is time to have my son. I say goodbye to all of my family and begin walking down the hall in my little gown the the sterile OR room.


Errrrrrrrrrrrrr (that’s break noises)
“sorry miss but you have to go back to your room the doctor hasn’t made it yet”

WHAT. I sit back in my bed twiddling my thumbs cursing the doctor for doing that to me.

Again we make the march down the hall to the room and we see the doctor so I know this time it is for reals. I get put up on a bed and they tell me that I’m going to get the needle in my back. I get strapped down with each arm laying out like I’m on a cross and covered in blankets. After a mild panic attack the wonderful anesthesiologist pricks me in the back and it feels about the same as possibly a bee sting, if it was even that bad. All I know is he had just shoved a needle in my back and it hurt less then the evil nurse whores idea of an IV. He rolls me over and the doctor informs me that he is already cutting me open. WHAT. Its been about 4 seconds. My husband at this time decides to stand up and look over the curtain. He turns green and makes a face that makes me go
WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING WHY DO YOU LOOK LIKE THAT.

Suddenly about 36 seconds later the doctor says I will feel some pressure in my chest. It feels like someone is tugging on my lungs a little and all the sudden I hear WAAAAAAAAAAAA. I start crying screaming is that my baby crying is that my baby crying, is he crying, is that crying? It was, he was, he was cryng woooooooo yes he was alive. At this point my husband looks back over the curtain just in time to see the doctor pull out the placenta. I’m pretty sure that he puked a little in his mouth. They continued to sew me up while I tried to get a side glance at my little boy. Finally they gave him to my husband with a nose sucky thing and said to suck the gunk out of his nose and mouth. Rob hold Brandon up to me and shows him to me and then gets all wierded out about the nose sucky thing.

Nurse lady comes and scoops baby from us to give him a bath and Rob runs after to watch every single moment with my son because we can’t trust anyone with a baby as beautiful as him. I passed out I guess and woke up to a lady saying move your toe. Okay wiggle wiggle. I did good they brought me my baby. He got about 3 feet away and I said some kind of nonsense and the little guys mouth was sucking mid air. He latched on immediately and I was totally in awwww.

finally we are taken to my new room and I realize that Luvs are horrible and Pampers swaddlers newborns are the best diapers on the planet. (Again this is why I don't advise wasting money until you know.) I am stuck in bed for two days and not allowed to have a freaking drink of water for nearly 4 more hours. Finally I get my baby, I get my water and I get to relax....For about 20 minutes. Then I learn what parenting is all about.