Dirty Little Secret

I almost forgot about Sarcastic Mom’s super Birth Story Carnival, but luckily I checked her awesome blog today. Head on over to read her fabulous story, find other stories or to add your own.

Ironflower

When I was pregnant with Ironflower, I swelled up like a balloon. Seriously. I had so much fluid that the poor child just kept floating around in there - some days she was breech, some days she wasn’t. About two weeks before my due date, my OB suggested that I would need a c-section. She was pretty sure that between the MASSIVE amount of fluid and the size of Ironflower’s head that I was going to wind up needing one no matter what - did I want to schedule one or wait and see what happened? I thought about it over night. I talked to three people who’d had emergency c-sections. I was at a point where I couldn’t fit into my own shoes, my feet were so swollen. I wanted it to be over, though Ironflower had not hinted that she was ready to come out at all. I scheduled the c-section.

All was well until the epidural kicked in. I was lying flat on the operating table, but all of the sudden it felt like I was tipping over backwards and that there was an elephant sitting on my chest. Apparently this is not uncommon, but no one had mentioned it to me. I started to panic. My blood pressure dropped and I started to fade in and out. The kind anesthesiologist gave me some kind of drug and things got better. Meanwhile, they were having a hard time pulling Ironflower out. The fluid had literally gushed out of me and soaked the floor and she was in some odd position and I don’t know, it took them awhile to get her out. So long that she got some of my happy drugs into her system and was pretty lethargic at first. It took her five minutes to cry.

FIVE LONG MINUTES. Finally, she started crying and so did we. I couldn’t see her, but Hubby made his way over to the bassinet (trying not to slip in the fluid and quickly averting his eyes from my guts) and not too long after that I FINALLY got to see her. I couldn’t believe she was really there. We all got about twenty minutes together in the recovery room, then she and Hubby went to the nursery and I sort of slept.

It felt like forever until we were all settled in our room together. I couldn’t get over how beautiful and tiny she seemed (though at 8 pounds, 10 ounces, she really wasn’t that tiny as newborns go). She was pretty mellow, too. We hardly slept for the three days we were in the hospital. I couldn’t sleep when she went off to be weighed and bathed in the middle of the night and I felt like I needed to be awake whenever she was in the room. Even though she was extremely mellow and rarely cried, I just felt like I had to be hyper-vigilant. Sometimes I dozed, but only when Hubby or my mom was there. Ironflower had trouble nursing at first, but eventually (thanks, really, to Hubby’s encouragement and support) we got there. We’ve been marveling at her beauty and trying to get her to eat ever since.

Lovebug

This time when my OB asked if I wanted to try for a vaginal birth or have another c-section, I was ready. I picked c-section. I was nervous about VBACs and since I knew what to expect with a c-section it just seemed the way to go.

This time, I was asked if I wanted a spinal or an epidural. I was told that spinals were better and since I hadn’t been all that impressed with my epidural, I went with it. Which was a mistake. Because it hurt like a son of a bitch. Now I realize that it was nothing like giving birth the natural way, but at least then you know the pain is coming. I was actually in the early stages of labor when I went in for my c-section. Even though it was 12 days before my due date. Lovebug had been banging his head against my pelvis for a few days. I was expecting a pinch and instead I got hot knife slicing my leg in half. Or so it seemed.

After that, though, things went swimmingly. I didn’t panic on the table (no upside down feeling or elephant on my chest) and Lovebug popped right out. The first thing my OB said was, “He has a HUGE head.” And that right there made me feel a whole lot better about choosing the c-section. Lovebug cried on cue and didn’t really stop until about an hour and a half later, when we first tried breastfeeding. Which he took to like a duck to water. The lactation expert dropped by my room the next day and started to tell me that I was holding him “wrong”, but when I invited her to lean over and check us out up close, she realized that we were just fine. She didn’t drop by again.

Lovebug was so vigorous and so hungry - he was his own little person right away. And while I still had a hard time when he was out of the room, I was able to sleep a bit this time. The best was watching Ironflower check him out for the first time. She was so in awe and really didn’t exhibit much jealousy. Of course, she was only 15 months old.

Lovebug’s passion still amazes us, though he seems to have lost his champion eating ability.

Ironflower is
so beautiful and verbal
with many stories

She makes up the songs
She creates the silly games
always excited

she bounces into school
hugs her quieter classmates
we just play, she says

very passionate
knows exactly what she wants
so independent

mothers her brother
when she is not screaming aloud
about his behavior

My little Lovebug
the best smile in the whole world
also loudest scream

Hug! demands my babe
loving the tackle and the kiss
so affectionate

He dances around us
when not running around us
grinning all the way

So proud to say things
like thanks and ‘peaz’ and I do
he can say poop too

Fights for his desires
the most tenacious toddler
no giving up here

As I may have mentioned before, Ironflower turned 3 last month and Lovebug will be 2 in March (aka is 22 months old). And I’m having some anxiety.

I’ve successfully avoided talking about it with anyone. Except for the casual comment I made to the other moms at preschool pick-up time yesterday, but that hardly counts, right? I mean, it’s not possible to have a serious conversation during pick-up time anyway.

I’ve tried to avoid writing about it, which may be why I have struggled to come up with good blog topics despite my perpetually humorous life.

So I’m just going to get it out there.

Even though I am ashamed.

IamworriedaboutIronflower’sgrossmotorskillsandLovebug’sspeech.

Ahem.

I am worried about Ironflower’s gross motor skills. She still can’t pedal a bike or do a somersault (I was fine with the lack of somersault until I heard about my friend’s daughter, who is Lovebug’s age, doing a somersault). And she still struggles with pulling up her pants and pulling on her shirts. It’s like she hurried to this point in her gross motor skill development and then stopped.

I am worried that Lovebug only has a few two word phrases and that he’s very hard to understand. People who don’t know him can only understand a few words. A lot of the time it seems he’s not even trying to talk, though he can pop out with amazing words (once you decipher them) when he feels like it.

But mostly I am worried about me, because I am pretty sure I am being a paranoid freak. Or a competimommy.

Any thoughts?

So Ironflower has taken to marching around the house exclaiming, “Hup to three! Hup to three!” Naturally, Lovebug must follow her. Until last night, all he did was chase after her, as his legs cannot march with any kind of speed. So she would “march to Texas” (no, I have no idea where that idea came from) and he would jog after her.

But last night as Ironflower marched, Lovebug decided to stop running. He marched too, possibly because he now has his own chant. “Up to Bee! Up to Bee!” he yelled as he marched through the kitchen, up the stairs and into his room. Where he found his stuffed bee.

Talk about language comprehension.

Hubby thinks I let the children watch too much TV. I’m sure he’s probably right. In an ideal world, my children would maybe watch one show every few days. But in case you haven’t noticed, my world isn’t ideal. We’re still slogging our way through this nasty virus, it’s freaking cold and the playgrounds are covered with snow, the mall and indoor play areas are insane and darn it, I LIKE Noggin.

But Hubby was home with us yesterday and decided that there would be no TV. Ironflower whined briefly, but soon she and Lovebug were busy. But not with their toys. No, they were busy bothering each other. ALL DARN DAY.

We normally have a few incidences of sibling issues a day. Usually they are over almost as soon as they’ve begun. But not yesterday. They kept going and going. They didn’t really stop until Ironflower shoved Lovebug down the stairs and Hubby freaked out. To be fair, I don’t think Ironflower understood why shoving him on the stairs would be any different than shoving him on the floor, but obviously we still have some work to do on “no shoving”.

After that frightening fiasco, they got along better. But they were suddenly incapable of playing independently for even a minute. Even with both of us home, nothing could get done because both kids demanded that much attention.

Maybe yesterday was destined to be a bad day anyway. I don’t know.

What I do know is that Noggin is on right now. And we’ve had no fights this morning. I’ve had enough stolen minutes to compose this. Everyone is happy. And isn’t that what it’s all about?

*****For all of you Wordless Wednesday participants and other fantastic photographers, I’ve just heard about the PhotographyCorner.com 2007 Photograph of the Year contest and I think you all should enter. There are tons of awesome prizes, including Visa gift cards, Photoshop Trio, camera bags and Pro accounts at SmugMug.