First Week and a Half

Wow. Has it been that long already? Ok, well it might feel like longer than that at night when I'm up more hours than I'd care to be. Where to begin? I want to journal about the long laboring experience that they call delivery, but I believe amnesia has already set in and I may forget some things. Arthur could probably do a better job of recounting those 24 hours, but let me at least try.
I was on pins and needles for most of the day Sunday so we left earlier than we needed to just because I couldn't sit at home any longer. We went to Carraba's for my "last supper" and meandered around Barnes and Nobles afterwards until it was time for admission. Got up to the room and the first comment I recall from the nurse while she was asking me a million questions was "Were they not concerned that you only gained 10 pounds?" They got me hooked up to the monitor and then she was like "You're having contractions every 1 1/2 to 2 mins". My response--I've been doing that for 2 1/2 wks. Her next observation--They're not strong enough to produce any good results though. My response--I've known that for 2 1/2 weeks now! The other nurse who was trying to put in my IV couldn't get it in my right arm, so after much pain and agony, she started trying on the left. (And you should see the bruises on my right arm now from the torture!) Dr. Busbee was on call and came to check on me and get the ball rolling with the gel. I was allowed a 10 pm snack and given some ambien. At midnight when the nurse came in and I was still wide awake, she gave me something stronger to make me sleep for a while. Around 6 am they started the pitocin. Dr. Gallaspy came in mid morning and broke my water. I was being the good music therapist and had my music going and was enduring contractions pretty well to begin with. By 2 pm though, when Dr. Gallaspy came in, I was starting to hurt pretty good. All it took was for him to say "Bridgett you don't have to do this without help" and by 3 pm I was saying "Ok, bring on the epidural". And as with the IV, the first sticks didn't work and I remember the anesthesiologist saying he was going to have to try again. After that, labor was much easier. I could still feel pressure and still had some feeling in my legs, but I wasn't in pain. By 5 pm the decision was made to start pushing. By 7 pm I was...still pushing. By this point in time, I was tired of pushing and Dr. Gallaspy didn't think it was going to happen on its own. (Can I say you were right all those years ago Dr. Daveta? My pelvis is too small for a baby's head to come through. The other drs. may have been wrong about whether or not I would get pregnant, but you definitely called that one right!) So, preparation began for a C section. The epidural was pumped up and here's where everything gets foggy.....I remember bits and pieces of what went on during the operation, but I honestly still thought they were prepping me when I heard a baby cry. I had no idea Arthur was even in the room with me. I remembered them saying they needed to go get him, but since I never saw or heard him, I was still waiting for it all to begin when I realized I was already a mother! The sad thing is what I remember the most is how bad I had the shakes afterwards! Mom, Dad, Jeff, Jo Ann, and Lynn were present and allowed to come in the room for the 15-20 mins that we had with Turner before they took him away. Mom admitted later that it was tough seeing me look so pathetic and that she had a hard time keeping herself from crying at the sight of me lying there immobile and shaking nonstop. (I told Arthur later that I didn't want people visiting me during labor because of how bad it might be, but I should have been more worried about people seeing me after delivery instead!) Arthur got to witness the first bath and after a few hours of recovery we were allowed to go to postpartum. The next morning was absolutely awful when I had to have nurses and Arthur get me up to go to the restroom (and I ended up in the shower instead). Poor Arthur has seen more then he would ever care to--I'm sure. Dr. Gallaspy happened to make his rounds as I'm being tended to in the shower and admitted the next day that he was worried about me that morning. My only response to him was "When can I eat?" (Keep in mind they let me go about 42 hours without food) Let me tell you--learning to walk again was a chore. We had lots of visitors during our stay--grandparents, aunts/uncle, Donna, Donna's mom, Mike, Rachel, Rachel's mom and John Allen, Bro Dave, and hopefully I didn't just leave anyone out. Turner had low body temp and a high white blood cell count at birth, so they started him on antibiotics in case there was an infection. Turns out that it appeared everything was fine. Arthur spent the last night at his mom's--I had mastered getting up on my own to go to the bathroom and night feedings without requiring 4 hands. Thursday morning they decided Turner was jaundice and did a bilirubin test. They let us go ahead and be discharged but we had to return to Mobile on Sat to check his levels again. The number had dropped some by then(but so had his weight! He went from 8 lbs, to 7lbs, 9 oz., to 7lbs. 7 oz). Turner stayed awake ALL night his first night home and in mom's opinion still doesn't sleep as well at night as she would like! Come to find out, I was starving my poor child to death and didn't realize it for a couple of days. So, we've had to make some adjustments in feeding. I'm still pumping what little breastmilk I can get out to give him, and we're supplementing him with formula. Technically, we're feeding him formula and I'm supplementing him with breastmilk! Ha! Enfamil Lipil (their closest formula to breastmilk) if anyone would like to contribute to the "Help Turner get fed" fund! :) But the jaundice has definitely cleared now that the child is eating enough. I also welcome visitors between the hours of 1-5 am when Turner seems to be the most alert (and cranky!). Let's see...what other details would I like to record (or what other questions are people asking that I need to answer??)?? I have not had to check my sugar since delivery. I'm pretty sure Dr. G's going to issue another glucose tolerance test here in a few weeks to double check me though, so I've tried not to return to really bad eating habits!

One other thing....
Arthur put Turner's pic on the front page of the paper this week and his birth announcement is in the Times. And he wrote a tear jerker of a column, so here it is...
Well, I’m a daddy now. For a number of years now, a good number people have jokingly referred to me as “Big Daddy,” usually not intending any reference to movies, play characters or Ed Roth. At least, I don’t think so.
Well, I suppose that now I really am. I’m certainly a big guy compared to the little one I cradle in my hands every night after kissing my wife when I come home from work.
It’s a major change in life, no doubt. I still remember at the age of about 19, declaring I would not get married or have children. I was all about freedom, man. Well, at 19, I didn’t really need to be thinking about getting married and having kids, but it was also no time to be making life-long , set in stone decisions on such matters.
I remember stating this once when an older gentleman who had never married or had children politely chided me that I would be making a big mistake. I can still remember the sadness in his eyes and tone of his voice.
But time would pass, and life would continue, and while I may have softened my stance somewhat, I’d not quite come around to the idea during the following years.
Then one night, after I’d moved away from home to pursue my career, I was feeling particularly lonely. I drove into town and picked up some chicken at the drive through. As I slowly pulled away, I happened to look over, and through the window I spied an older man and a boy of maybe about five or six years old, sharing a chicken dinner. The scene immediately brought me back to when I was a little youngster and my Paw Paw and I would walk to Colonel Dixie from his house to get a piece of chicken or a corn dog for lunch.
The sight made me wistful for bygone days and even a little more homesick that night. It wasn’t quite the immediate life-changing epiphany you’d think. After all, it would take another 10 years before I actually decided to settle down. But, that night in a little town far from home was likely the fatal blow to the last wall of defense in my stubborn, selfish refusal to be responsible for anything other than my own life.
There’s a few things I’ve learned in the past week.
I may not be an expert yet, but it’s amazing how quickly one can go from never having been within three feet of a newborn to changing the diapers of a whirling dervish of little flailing arms and legs without a whole lot of thought.
My belly may be too big for some of my clothes and definitely too big to be healthy or attractive, but it apparently makes a fantastic bed. It’s like a Tempur-Pedic for babies. Now if I can just find a way to market it.
That watching an infant suck down a bottle would be such a gratifying experience.
And, holding your little one, with his head nuzzled into your neck, that the sound of his soft cooing would melt my heart.

Ok, I've ignored my other duties long enough. Hopefully this satisfies your cravings for a little while! :)