No Need To Yell!

I know I've been bad, not writing here and all or there, the writing blog thing. I'm sure you can forgive me once I tell you I had a damn good reason! I was writing. Yes, actually, honest to Goddess writing and making some $$$$. You'll have to take a peek at my writing blog to hear my big announcement because it is writing related.

Anywho! My sweet Tristan and his mommy were released from prison the hospital on Wednesday about 5 pm. Her friend who picked her up brought her straight here. I got to hold my little man for almost four hours. *big grin* I didn't lay him down except to change his diaper once, and right before they left in order to snap a couple more pics. I'm plotting ways to get him back here to myself for a few days. My Big Brain came up with this awesome idea. Suggest how much she needs sleep and be able to chill for two days...or three...or four. I'm thinking of her well-being you know.

She's sore from her tummy being all stretched out with Tristan and a bit of discomfort from the stitches when the doc gave her an episiotomy. I'm thankful beyond belief she didn't get hemorrhoids from pushing like I did with her. I couldn't sit normally or walk for about a week and a half. She had a normal labor time, about 10 hours or so I think it was and pushed about 45 minutes. She was in so much pain. She's broken her tailbone a couple of times so what I feared would happen actually did. During the contractions, her back her real bad and pushing was a real bad ordeal. She had an epidural and was able to get some sleep finally. The worst pain was at the end when they cut the epidural meds so she could feel the contractions to push.

Oh, before I forget....I have his head and chest measurements now. Here's all his stats together. Tristan, born July 6, 2009 at 6:13 pm, Weight 8 lbs, Length 20 3/4 inches, Head 14 inches, Chest 13 inches. His head size is the same as his momma's and Aunt Serena's. His chest is the same as his Aunt Serena.

I'm gonna mosey off now. I have another article to write tonight before I go to bed.

My Son's Birth Story

The day is finally here! I get to tell you the story of my firstborn's birth.

When I got pregnant, I was 18 and a senior in high school, kind of. There was lots of stuff going on but that's another story. How I found out I was pregnant is rather amusing.

I got my first period at 14 and from day one had been regular as clockwork. When I didn't get my period in November, I hardly dared to breathe. I was 18, but only in years. I had become a "grownup" a long time before.

I was only a few days late, so decided to wait until I was two weeks late. The 14th day arrived. I ran to the store to get a pregnancy test, then ran back home to do what many other women before me had done. Pee on a small, short stick and not all over my hand. I thought two weeks of waiting was long, but this was sheer torture. It said negative. I hadn't realized how badly I wanted it to be positive until I saw that result. I slid to the floor and cried.

I went through a whole bunch of pregnancy tests over the next month and half or so. Each one saying negative. I was so confused. I ate pickles and was solely responsible for supporting the pickle industry for three months. I couldn't smoke nor could I stand even a small whiff without getting extremely nauseous. I went to a place where they give pregnancy tests for free. I waited forever and just as I was about to grab the woman, slam her against the wall and demand an answer, she came in and told me, "You're pregnant!" I was about 3 months along.

Over the next few months I gained maybe 10 pounds, had to stand sideways and plaster my shirt to show, "Yes I really am pregnant. I'm x far along." One night we were at a friend's house and I felt something very odd. I'm sitting on the floor and it felt like I was peeing! Over the next hour or so I was in and out of the bathroom as I sprung a leak from who knows where but at least I figured out I wasn't peeing. One change of clothes and some gushing later, the friend sent me to the other friend 2 doors down. I explained what was going on to the nurse friend. She says, "Go straight to the hospital, do not pass Go, do not collect $200, do not stop for small furry animals, you're not peeing your water broke."

I languished in the hospital for the next week getting stabbed multiple times in both thighs multiple times a day to help my little baby's(sex unknown)lungs get strong. Exactly one week later on Wednesday, June 29, 1988, exactly 1 hour after eating my lunch,at exactly 12 noon, I went into labor. I whined a lot, told mommy to make the doctor get this thing out of me, told mommy I changed my mind and didn't want to do this anymore and said lots of other equally pathetic stuff while under the influence of the Best Drug In The World.(my baby daddy wasn't there)

At 5:49 pm my first offspring shot out of me with very little pushing. I heard the doc say, "It's a boy!" Then, "You have an infection." A nurse runs off with a tiny mewling baby yelling, "two, three!" Then I fell sound asleep since no one needed me to do anything. I didn't see my son for the first time until 11:30 pm. I cried when I did and was afraid to touch him. He was in the NICU on a bed under a funky looking light with wires everywhere and a needle going into the top of his bald head.

I laid my finger in his hand and his fingers slammed like a trap with the Tightest Grip Ever. I knew he'd be ok. The "two, three" was the nurse yelling how much she thought he weighed. Every one of the nurses dropped on the floor when he weighed in at 4 lbs, 12 oz. He was 6 weeks premature. He was moved into an incubator the next day, had no breathing problems at all, had not picked up my infection on the way down the chute and was a healthy little dude. I held him for the first time on Day 2, rocked and cried as I held him.

I had to leave the hospital without him because he wasn't eating as much or as vigorously as they wanted. I was at the hospital all the time holding him and feeding him. At day 5 they said he could come home, and then told me no because his umbilical stump was infected. Two days later it was all better and had fallen off. I brought my brand new baby boy, Kenneth Lee home in the early afternoon exactly a week after he was born. I was finally whole and could breathe again. Best of all, life could begin.

Happy 21st B-Day to the Best Son Ever! I hope you can manage to squeeze in a celebration today and not work too hard. I am proud of you, I love you and wish along with you that you were home right now with your wife, surrounded by friends having a kick ass party to celebrate being "legal." *grin*