oh baby darling

Well, I'm back and I have a baby.

Joseph Matthew was born on August 21st at 11:23 pm.  He was 6 pounds, 14 ounces, 19 1/2 inches long, and absolutely perfect.

Having a baby is funny because the moment the baby is born and they put him in your arms, the nurses start asking you all kinds of questions about him as if you should know the answers.    At one point I actually thought to myself, "it really seems like they should be asking his mom these questions" and then it dawned on me that I AM THE MOM.

It was a strange feeling because part of me felt like I had no idea what I was doing, and part of me felt like I had known him forever. 

Speaking of strange, babies have a strange life.  Joey had a doctor's appointment last Monday, and he was asleep when we left our house.  He didn't wake up until we got to the office, and when he did, he screamed his head off.  Could you even imagine going to sleep in your house, fully clothed, and waking up completely naked on the scale in your doctor's office? I would cry too.

Joey's birth was fairly uneventful by textbook standards, but as far as my standards, it was arguably the biggest event of my life.

I was due on Saturday, August 17th. 

Saturday came and went.  No baby. 

Sunday came and went.  No baby. 

You know how people say there are things they want to ask God when they die?  The first question on my list would be why did you make pregnancy 40 weeks instead of 38?  The very beginning was tough for me, but weeks 14 to 38 were a total breeze (and for that I am SO thankful).  However.  Weeks 38 to 40 were the absolute longest of my life.

(In case you're curious, the second question I would ask is can you please point me towards the scientist who invented the epidural? I would like to thank them.)

Anyway, Monday came around and I had a doctor's appointment at 4 pm.  The doctor basically said take your time packing that bag and scheduled an induction for 8 DAYS LATER.

But, when I was getting ready for bed that night, I noticed my back hurt worse than normal.  I didn't think much of it until I noticed that the pain was coming and going, and it was pretty bad.  I expected labor pain to be in my stomach area since that's where the baby was located.  Up until that moment I was blissfully unaware of the torture that is back labor.

I tried to sleep Monday night but wasn't very successful.  After tossing and turning all night, I finally got up at 4 am and laid on the couch.  Matt also got up, put on his new shirt that he had been saving for delivery day, called out of work, packed his bag, and made a big batch of french toast.  All before the sun rose.

I called the on call doctor, but since the contractions weren't yet 4 minutes apart, the doctor said  I couldn't come to the hospital.  Monday was brutal.  Monday night was even worse and Tuesday was worse yet.  I felt like I was going out of my mind.  I couldn't sleep.  I couldn't stay still.  I could hardly eat.  Tuesday night I was in absolute agony, so I called my doctor's office when they opened at 9 am Wednesday morning.  I asked to speak to a nurse and I think she heard the tears and desperation in my voice because she said in a calming, soothing voice, "Why don't you head on over to triage?"

We were on our way within ten minutes.  All along my plan had been to vacuum the house right before we left for the hospital, because everyone knows newborns care deeply about clean carpets, but my beloved Dyson didn't even enter my mind at that point.

We got to triage and it just so happened my favorite doctor was on call.  He examined me and made me walk the halls for an hour and when he finally said he was going to admit me, I shed a few tears of sheer relief.

We got all set up in the delivery room and I got an epidural toot suite because I was not trying to be a hero.  Our nurse was named Octavia and I LOVED her.  She asked me if I was hungry and I said yes, because all I'd had to eat in the last 24 hours was a piece of toast and a turkey corn dog, and oh yeah, about one hour of sleep. 

Well, according to Octavia those aren't prime conditions under which to deliver a baby, so she brought me a tray filled to the brim with jello, water ice, and chicken broth and told me to EAT UP AND TAKE A NAP.

Once I got the epidural, I felt exactly NOTHING.  It was glorious.  Matt went to the pizza place down the road and brought back dinner for himself, and I sipped my broth and we watched the Phillies game and took some cat naps.  It was actually kind of fun and relaxing.  Until I remembered "Oh yea, I actually have to deliver a baby at some point."

I won't get into the nitty gritty details, but once they broke my water, things started moving quickly. 

I had given Matt strict instructions before we arrived at the hospital that I wanted him to stay well north of the border, if you know what I mean.  Well, Octavia really threw a wrench into my plans when she said, "Okay Dad, come on down here and hold Mom's leg." 

Octavia! Couldn't you station him well north of that area and have him focus on something totally nondescript like my ear or my elbow?

I will never forget the look on Matt's face as his eyes darted between me and Octavia.  Who was he supposed to listen to?!  In the end he followed Octavia's directions, and that was probably good because, as he said, "Octavia and I basically delivered that baby ourselves."

He's not kidding.  Despite running on just a corn dog and some jello, I only pushed for twelve minutes and my doctor didn't even make it to the room for the delivery.  An OB resident whose name I don't even know technically delivered Joseph.  At least that's what they told me.  Part of me thinks they just said on the intercom "Anyone with an M.D. please come to labor and delivery STAT."  It could have been a podiatrist for all I knew and I'll tell you what, at that point, I did not care.

The resident was also about 25 years old which felt slightly weird to me.  There are two professions where I want the people to be well into their 40s, and preferably in their 50s.  And those professions are my OB/GYN and airline pilots.

Anyway after twelve minutes, thanks to a young podiatrist, a corn dog, and an oxygen mask, Joseph was born.

One minute he wasn't there, and the next moment, there he was.  The little baby that I dreamed about for the last nine months and in many ways my entire life, and suddenly he was laying on my chest,  looking up at me with his big, dark eyes.

It probably sounds cheesy but I loved him the minute I saw him and I love him more every day.  I am so excited to get up every morning and take care of him.

Matt was home for two weeks after Joseph was born, and I don't know what I would have done without him.  He made sure I ate three meals a day for two weeks.  He would take my breakfast order every night and when I woke up in the morning, he would have cooked whatever I asked for.  He changed more diapers than I did.  We spent hours just staring at Joey and talking about him nonstop.  I didn't know you could spend your entire day talking about a baby who pretty much sleeps, but we did. At night we would sit on the couch and watch The Office and pass Joey back and forth, back and forth.  It was like a little dream world. 

And then Matt had to go back to work.

We had a few rocky days to start as we figured things out.  One day I sat on the couch and pretty much one or both of us cried.  I had to call my mom with an SOS and she came to save the day and hold a crying baby so I could shower.  

But now, almost two months in, we have totally gotten into our groove.  I know what Joey likes and doesn't like and he has started smiling and engaging and I just talk to him all day long.  It's a great setup because I love to hear myself talk and he is a captive audience.

The three of us have lots of adventures ahead.  And if the future is anything like the last 8 weeks, it's going to be pretty great.