Let's see. I noticed the last entry was February of 2014 but I don't even think I mentioned I was even pregnant in that post. I honestly don't even remember writing that entry.
On October 5, 2012 my then-boyfriend and I eloped and married at the Justice of the Peace. We decided to also have a ceremony and reception for family on October 5, 2013. Great day, beautiful wedding, fun night but maybe I will reminisce about that day in another entry.
Two months later I found out I was pregnant and had my first doctor appointment right before Christmas. Through the long and treacherous journey called pregnancy (and the boredom that comes along with it), I became a pinning queen! Pinterest was my addiction. So was food. I have some embarrassing stories to tell about my pregnancy.
Well I found this amazing idea on Pinterest that we should create an email address for our unborn child and write letters to him everyday.... or really whenever the mood strikes. I was really excited to get started until I realized we didn't know what we would name our kid. We didn't actually figure it out until 2 months before he was born. Oh yeah, did I mention we found out it was a boy sometime in April? Well, we did. In May or June (I am pretty sure I have exact dates in the baby book) we finally agreed on a name we liked but decided to leave it on the back burner in case we found something else we liked. It never happened. Now the difficult part was finding a middle name that not only did we both need to like, but we felt it had to "flow" with the first name. For weeks we kept going back and forth on a name and you have no idea how close we were to making the middle name, Gossamer. You know, that big red furry creature with tennis shoes from the Looney Tunes cartoon? His name is Gossamer. I always found him absolutely adorable. My husband laughed every time I mentioned it but actually agreed to it. I may be a jerk at times but I didn't feel like I could really name our son that... even if it was just his middle name. Oh, I forgot to mention the sonogram showed he was a boy. A very unashamed boy. Back to the name issue. I kept leaning toward the name Oscar. I didn't really know anyone personally with that name and I did think of Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street which made me want it even more because my husband is such a grouch himself. Days passed but we finally did settle on his name mid-July: Elliot Oscar. And I was finally able to make an email for him although I have only written an email to him maybe twice. The latest one being a few days ago which is what made me remember this blog. I don't know if emails disappear or the account locks and erases emails if not logged in every so often but I do know I have had this blog for years with everything staying intact. I figured why not do both just in case. So here we are.
Moving on to catch up with my moments.
The baby shower was a carnival theme and happened in June. Or was it July? Either way, it was hot as balls that day. This is where we also revealed the sex of the baby. Yes, we were those assholes that decided not to tell anyone the sex. I really wanted to wait until birth but my husband wanted to know ASAP. Maybe the next one we will wait, but I feel like I will be the impatient one this time.
Next thing I know it is Sunday, August 10, 2014. At 7-freakin'-A.M. I wake up with gas pain. I literally roll out of bed and waddle to the restroom. Nothing. I waddle back to my bed and try to get comfortable. Maybe 10 minutes later I feel the same pain again. I roll my ass out of bed, waddle to the restroom, sit for a few minutes while nothing happens, waddle back to bed and hope to get comfortable again. Believe me, pregnancy and comfortable are NEVER used in the same sentence. So these trips to the bathroom occur so often that I decide to time them via a contraction counter I downloaded to my phone. I truly didn't think they were contractions and I felt silly doing it but I did so anyway. Around 845 AM I started to time my trips and pain (although by this point I decided not to bother getting out of bed anymore). Around 945 AM I see that I am getting the pain every 4 1/2 minutes and the pain lasting 45 seconds each time... almost to the tee! I decide to wake my husband and tell him about it. He just told me to let him know if I wanted to go to the hospital. About 5 minutes later I decided I may as well. We check in and I am joking around with the nurse at the counter and asking if she has had women come in thinking they were in labor but it turns out it is indigestion or something. Of course she has. She is sweet about it though. My husband kept asking questions while I was having contractions... let's just say he now knew the look I will give when I want to smack someone.
I am in the triage area and the nurse (the ONLY nurse I didn't really care for) seems to be taking her sweet time with things. She puts some stuff on my belly to find out if I am having contractions. I was. She called my husband in. She kept asking me questions about the care I was wanting/needing but she did so while I was having contractions and she seemed annoyed when I wasn't answering right away. My husband would either answer her or tell her to give me some time to answer. Anywho, we are deciding whether or not to stay at the hospital or to go home since I was only 1 CM dilated but we decided to stay and we were admitted around 12 PM. Will called my parents and brothers to let them know I was in labor. I am given a pain pill which helped for maybe 5 minutes while I am being wheeled away to my room. I meet my new nurse and around 230 PM she checks me and I am now 3 CM! I am progressing pretty fast. She calls the doctor and the doctor approves an epidural for me. I have a high tolerance for pain and those contractions were outrageous. The longer I went without pain meds the more difficult it was for me tolerate the pain.... and breathe. I know it is bad to hold your breath during contractions but for some reason I couldn't stop doing it. I was finally able to breathe during but every time I breathed out, it hurt more. At 330 PM the anesthesiologist comes in and gives me the good stuff. Oh. My. God. I give props to the women that do it naturally but EFF that. I LOVED the epidural. The rest of the day I was joking and laughing with the nurses, doctors, and my family that visited. I was having a grand time really. I also kept laughing at how my right leg just wouldn't "work". I was able to sort of use my legs to hold myself up. I could move my legs but I just couldn't feel them. But sometimes the right leg was just.... dead.
Anywho, the longest labor story ever.... around 12 AM the doctor comes in and instructs me when and how hard to push. I was hoping my husband would be there to hold my hand and/or legs and help me with the labor but no.... he kept leaning over and snapping pictures of the delivery. It took me a few hours to get the courage to look at the pics and I was pleasantly surprised... it wasn't as bad as I kept thinking it would be. Back on track... my son was born on August 11th weighing 8 pounds 3 ounces! The staff and my husband kept telling me how simple and easy I made labor look. At first I thought they were stroking my ego but it became apparent they were truly impressed. I was pleased with myself but I did tell them it was all them. I did exactly what they said to do.
When my son was born and as I was looking at all of the pictures after, I thought he looked like Mr. Magoo and I told my husband we should have named him Quincy. :)
Throughout my pregnancy I kept telling people I wish he would come early. I didn't want to go through a whole 40 week pregnancy. Will kept saying he would come 1 day early because... well I am a smart-ass and he is my son. What do you know? The little guy came ONE DAY early just as his dad predicted. Next time I should be a little more specific about the time.
I don't remember the specific days when my son did all the cute things only a mother and father would obsess about, but I do remember how excited we were when they happened. Even the not so cute things like vomiting down my back and all over my bed.
He is 4 months old now and I love looking at his cute smile. I also adore the way he talks to me and grabs my cheeks to make sure I am looking at him.
I had a reason I mentioned the whole Pinterest email thing but I may just get to that another day. For right now, it is time for bed. Or at least get a few minutes of sleep before my son wakes up for more food. My little fat-pants.
