Starting about last December, when people would ask me when I was due, I'd say,"May 27 but I'm having him May 7." I had made up my mind that I was getting that sucker out the first Saturday after he was full-term. It would be perfect. Jaymee wouldn't have to miss work, I'd get to stop being pregnant (which I hate with the fire of a thousand suns), I'd get to be away from home on Mother's Day (a long-standing tradition in my home so that my family can stay alive), it's my best friend Mami's birthday, he'd be old enough to travel to Utah for Jamey's wedding in June . . . it was brilliant, brilliant, brilliant.
So I rubbed my belly and told it the plan. May 7. May 7. May 7. On May 2nd I started having contractions and went in to the hospital. They sent me to the mall to walk and walk and walk and then come back when the labor gotten bad enough that I killed somebody in Naartjie. Six hours later, the contractions had stopped altogether. It was fine with me because I still had some stuff to do and he wasn't supposed to come until MAY 7.
On May 6, I went to lunch with a bunch of friends and they joked with me,"tomorrow's the big day, right?!" I affirmed that it was indeed. There was some eye-rolling but I told my uterus to pay them no mind. They didn't know the deal we had made.
About 6am on May 7, I woke up with hard contractions. Jaymee woke up to laughter. Ha! Ha! It's May 7 and I'm in labor! We called Mami and told her she could have all the Cardinals tickets because we were heading to hospital! Stop by after the game to see the baby! We got our stuff together and left. When we arrived, they confirmed I was indeed in labor and gave me an epidural within 30 seconds of getting there, bless their hearts. About that time I got a snarky text from Amy saying, "how's the hooossspital??" I told her everything was great and I had just gotten my epi. WHAT?! Ah ha ha ha. So funny.
(our three seconds together)
Everything went perfectly. No pain. A push and a half and I was done. It's easy to deliver a five pound baby. I saw him for about three seconds and they stole him and started freaking out. Well, as much as baby docs freak out. Baby Beckham couldn't breathe. SO they whisked him away to the NICU to live for the next eight days. Poor little guy.
(poor little guy)
(Mother's Day. It was a very fancy NICU. Ties were NOT optional)
They hooked him up to a bunch of monitors and machines and put so much tape on his face that his eyes swelled shut. He had only seen the world for about and hour. Sad. The first day they let me hold him. I spent all my time with him. The next day, they wouldn't let me hold him and they wouldn't let him eat. Did I mention poor little guy? It was killing me. They kept telling me that I'd be able to hold him "tomorrow". Then on tomorrow, they'd tell me the same thing again. I should have been blogging back then but I was sad and didn't want to be away from his bedside for one minute. On Tuesday they discharged me (no discharge cookies this time). I went to live in the NICU and then on a hard chair in the hall when I wasn't allowed in there. They took pity on my and let me back in my room for another two nights. On Tuesday night he took a turn for the worse and they had to intubate him. (PLG - poor little guy) Whatever they gave him while intubated did the trick and he turned around within twelve hours. On Wednesday I was holding him and feeding him a drop or two (they are stingy). But that night I had to go home. No empty rooms. Just empty arms as I left the hospital which is 45 minutes away. That was awful. I was back first thing in the morning and he was moved on to just oxygen through a nasal canula instead of the big apap thing. They took some of the tape off his face. I could almost see it. When I got there on Friday morning, they had taken off even more tape and I could see his whole face. Man was he cute. He even opened his eyes for the first time in a week.
He was eating like a champ and they said he could go home if he passed the "car seat test".
(Look how tiny! It's like that old skit with the girl in the HUGE chair. Was that Hee-Haw?)
We brought him home and I realized that I had been so worried about him at the hospital that I hadn't remembered that I had had a baby. I was fine. I had been taking my meds like clockwork and somehow didn't even notice the healing. It was so bad with Preslie that I was crying for days. Tender mercy much?
(ten days old. can anyone resist a baby yawn?)
So that's what happened. Geez. Get off my back and let me go snuggle with the cutest baby ever. He's my best friend.
PS We sold Fiyero (the bird eating cat) and Hinckley got a fish hook through his paw that had to be removed by the vet. The turtle is fine. Suckers.
As you know, Shark Week is next week. Is all your shopping done? Treats made? Crafts planned? Every year I think I'll get everything done by June so I can just kick back and enjoy the holiday, but here I am once again scurrying to get it all done.
I can check the "Shark Week T Shirts" off my list. If you haven't gotten to it, you can have some of mine. Just let me know by 8am, July 26th. $10 +$3 shipping. Paypal.
"Dear Shelby. We are all tired of your bobbed tail cat. We discussed it at lunch the other day, all 7 of us. Please show a picture of your newest child and write something un-pet related. Love, all 7 of us at Bazzill"
I promise to write about my baby, etc. by Wednesday. If not, I'll pay you a dollar. Sorry Bazzill Seven.