* Something Pretty Fucking Amazing Has Happened
Yep, it's me. Home home home. With little Tori.
There is so much to say... and no way to say it without sounding like a smitten lunatic. Things like, my god, she's so perfect. And she's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen. My mom described her tiny little cries as "soap bubbles bursting" and it's true.
Yep. Smitten.
First off, I have to say something to those still on that infertility fucking boulevard. Seriously. Before my blog of happy parenting becomes an unsafe place for you.
It's all worth it.
Once they hand you that kid--tell you it's yours--in one swift second it all becomes nothing compared to the beauty you are holding in your arms. And I'm not just talking about giving birth; I was out completely for the birth and didn't see the baby for eight hours afterwards--she could be from Mars for all I know--it's about that moment when you know, for sure, you are now officially a parent.
It's all so fucking worth it.
It kills me how much I love her already. Deeply, completely, and wonderfully. She is my darling. I have to take back every negative thought I had about Attachment Parenting, because I hate putting this baby down. Of course we're co-sleeping. I can't stand to have her away from me.
I never want to let her go.
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I wanted to thank you all for your comments. I have read them all, I promise. You'll have to forgive me, though, just this once...I'm not going to reply to them all. I'll do my best to respond from here on out, but those last, um, 1000 or so comments are going to have to live with just being read. OK?
Thanks also to Elise and Sarah for updating everyone. I told you we wouldn't leave you in the lurch! I tried very hard to get access to a computer in the hospital, but short of knocking out the nasty woman at the front desk of the unit, there was no way. We somehow managed to head off to the hospital without the laptop ... can't imagine why.
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And now a word about the delivery itself. Why can't I do anything normally? There is a 1% chance of placenta abruption occuring in every pregnancy. Why mine?
Dr. Mama asked me on Friday night (when he came by and spent an HOUR with us) if we were traumatized by the experience. All I could say to him was, well, if we've learned nothing else in these last few years, it's to let go of expectations. Honestly, the only thing I regret about not going through labor is sharing that experience with Charlie and Sarah. That would have been really cool.
But because it was all so fucking scary--I mean, I've never seen so much blood (except in the movies). Here's how it all went, if you are interested...
I woke up about 9:50am, slowly realizing I was having some mild cramps. "How odd." I thought to myself, "Those feel just like menstrual cramps." So I grabbed a tissue and stuck it between my legs and it came up soaked in bright red blood. I stood up, fast, opened the bedroom door and hollered to poor Charlie (on the toilet), "We have a problem!" and in that motion, I gushed. Blood poured down my legs and pooled on the carpet. I grabbed a pillow case and shoved it between my legs and waddled towards the bathroom.
I plopped down on the toilet and felt something fall out. Something big. I leapt up, hoping to be able to see what it was (for some reason, I thought maybe it was the baby's arm--how fucked up is that?) and couldn't--the bowl was full of blood. So I did what any rational person would do--I stuck my hand in there and pulled it out.
It was a clot, bigger than my hand.
We called the labor and delivery room, they said, "Get your ass in here now" or something like that. Charlie was dressed and ready to go by 10:05, but I poked around gathering things (I know!) and we finally left at 10:15. Oh, and I insisted that we use the Doppler and listen to Tori before we left--and I'm so glad we did. Her heart was beating away, and I could hear blood flow in the placenta (the last 20% of it that was attached, apparently).
The hospital is about 40 minutes away. Charlie ran a bunch of lights and we got there by 10:45 (I joked that if a cop stopped us, I'd just pull the wad of blood soaked paper towels out of my crotch and wave them at him).
Charlie ran in and got a wheelchair for me. A too-small wheelchair, which was funny when I got to the PETU and stood up and the chair stuck on my ass for a second. The elevator took FOREVER to get there, and some poor clueless woman on a cell phone pushing a stroller managed to meander by and prevent us from being able to get on it. Charlie had a few choice words for her (I believe "Get off the fucking phone!" and "This is a public space!" were used), and she looked deeply offended (but she was French, so it was hard to tell) and some nice man also waiting was able to smooth everything over, even while Charlie yelled things like "MY WIFE IS BLEEDING OUT!"
The staff at the PETU was AMAZING, I must say. I was naked and on my back in under ten seconds, and suddenly Dr. Mama was there. He said, "I'm here--it's going to be OK!" and then ran off to secure a surgery room (my apologies, by the way, to the twin mom whose scheduled c-section we bumped).
Now, I've been watching ER for years, and I have to tell you, being that patient that is being wheeled down a hallway by running doctors and nurses (one nurse actually securing my IV as she ran alongside my bed) is not fun at all. But everyone was kind and soothing, and I wasn't too worried. Mostly because, by the grace of God, I could feel Tori moving inside me.
Then I was asleep.
I woke up much later, feeling empty and sore. I was informed that I had a Morphine pump (news that made the the junkie inside me say, "Where have you been all my life?"), that Tori was fine, and I was too. I was surprised. I really thought that I was going to lose my uterus. There was just so much blood.
Charlie came back to recovery, and I could see from the relief in his face that is was all fine. Later Sarah came back with photos of Tori. I just rested. I was weak, in pain, and so fucking tired. I was totally at peace with not seeing the baby, somehow. At least until I got to my room.
Sadly, I got there at 7pm, exactly at the nurse shift change. I began to lose patience and freak out about not seeing Tori pretty quickly then. She finally was in my arms at 7:45, and that was officially the best moment of my life.
She's just so damn beautiful.
I'm going to stop now; there's lots of other funny stuff, like Sarah wiping the blood off my feet the next day (I said, "There is something rather biblical about this") and my minister dropping by and doing a blessing for Tori using lavender-scented lotion (we couldn't find any oil). But Tori's been in the bassinet this whole time (she's actually in the Bugaboo--photos pending, I assure you) so I'm going to go torture her with kisses.
Thank you, everyone, for walking this long road with me. I find myself suddenly at a crossroads--the road of infertility and loss and grief behind me, and now I'm standing at the road of normal fucking parenting. It won't be easy to make the change. I hope you all can bear with me.
My heart is full of love for all of you! Well, what's left in there after Tori has taken up so much space anyway.
:)
