A Name

Nope, not gonna post it.... but if you are on FaceBook you can find out... or you can email me and ask.  There doesn't seem to be a password protected function on Blogger, so for the purposes of this bloggity, he will be known henceforth as Henry.

Wow... this whole experience has kicked my trash from here to kingdom come, and while I feel  svelte and slender post-c-sec-baby, apparently I look as preggo as ever.  I kid you not.  Everybody says so, at least those that haven't had a heads-up that the baby is already sucking oxygen.

My MCL is stable and undamaged, but the rehab of my knee and whole freaking body is gonna have to wait, and will be a long, careful process.  So I will get to stay looking pregnant for the next couple of months.  Yay.

And what the shmellman kind of sadist doctor thinks that shaving a girls nether regions, slicing her open and then using TAPE to patch her up is a good idea?  Stubble and tape... down there?  This is the real reason ya need the good drugs post-op... not so much the pain, just the agony of the re-growth enhanced with tape.  Am deeply regretting my poor reactions to virtually all the "good drugs,"  Motrin is not cutting it.  

Tape.  Sheesh.

New baby

8 lbs, 10 oz, 21 inches.

Still no name. Some of the more popular name candidates are Dexter, Morgon, Marcus, Riker, Matthias, and Ezra.  (Wish us luck on that one!)  

Enjoy!

Tomorrow

Well... ain't life a hoot? We had ourselves a big fake-out in the wee hours of Sunday morning; starting at a little after midnight I was getting some good and hard contractions that kept getting closer and closer together... and laying on my side actually made them stronger. By two in the morning the contractions were every three to five minutes so we went to the hospital, but on the twenty minute drive there they started to peter out.

Went in anyway and stayed till about five am at which point my "labor" was over and I was peeved and a little chagrined. A little pissy as well. But I learned that I am very afraid for the safety of this baby. Something feels off, and he cannot turn properly and I am done messing with all of this.

Tomorrow I go in around noon for a c-section, and we will have a baby. The end.

In my book, I am trading an easier recovery and a higher hospital bill for a guarantee (or close to it) of safety for this little guy.... and frankly, I have a sneaking suspicion that this would all end up on a table with a knife anyway. My options are not stellar.

...at least I get the more predictable outcome and the tubal ligation two-fer. I am trying to find the happy in all of this.

Now we just have to figure out a name for the squirt.