Okay, it's been a while. Over two weeks to be exact. But I fully intend to keep up the blog. I'm sure it won't be NEAR as entertaining as when I was pregnant, but I'll do my best. Pregnancy was obviously the biggest adventure...
Eviction Day - November 1, 2010
We showed up to the hospital at 6 am on the dot. Okay, more like 6:10. It was early and my last day of freedom to sleep in, so I wasn't moving as fast as I should have been. (That and I was heading to the hospital to deliver the watermelon. I wasn't exactly looking forward to that part.) They got me signed in and started me on Pitocin around 7 am. I started contractions right away, but couldn't feel them until around 9:30. At that time the nurse told me that the anesthesiologist had two c-sections that day, one at 11:30 am and one at 1:00 pm. If I decided that I wanted an epidural, I had to let them know by either 10:30 to get it before 11:30, or wait until after 1:30. I was hanging tough and the contractions weren't bad at all. I told her I'd let her know later. Later ended up being about 20 minutes. Holy cow, those things can come on quick. By 10:00 I had made a few important decisions: 1) the fact that I was enduring the contractions was stupid. Why was I putting myself through this? 2) I was NOT going to miss my window of opportunity by trying to tough them out until after 1:00 pm and potentially not be able to get my epidural, 3) I was a goddess for even attempting to consider a natural birth, and 4) I am a wuss. Give me the damn shot.
The anesthesiologist came in shortly thereafter. Now, I'll be honest, I didn't even bother to look at the needle. I didn't need to. I was already PETRIFIED, no need to make it worse. I was shaking like a leaf (or like I was getting a tattoo - remember that Nikki?) and was shocked when he told me he was done. Besides the pinch of the numbing shots, it was nothing. As was everything thereafter. I hate to say it (and I'm sure I'm making some lifelong enemies), but labor and delivery was a piece of cake. They had me start pushing around 5:45 pm. Pushing actually ended up being the hardest part of the whole ordeal. I knew there was a watermelon somewhere that I was supposed to be pushing out, but I couldn't feel it. Evidently I was doing something right, because the nurse kept saying "right there! right there!" (and my husband kept saying "Git 'em girl! Git 'em!" which is coincidentally what he says to our dog, Bella, to get her to attack our other dog, Harley). Regardless of their encouragement, it didn't feel to me like I was making any progress. So I made the mistake of arguing that nothing was happening. The nurse assured me that we were getting there and asked if I would like a mirror so that I could see the progress. I must have looked at her like she had two heads and said "ummmm.....I don't know." Another wrong answer, because 30 seconds later there was a large mirror at the foot of the bed. THAT was interesting. Thank god they took it away before I actually delivered because I don't think Bob would have been to impressed to make his dramatic entrance into the world only to find mom passed out.
After pushing for over an hour, Baby Boy Hockenberry was born at 7:03 pm, weighing 6 pounds, 3 ounces and was 18.5 inches long. Unfortunately he was also a nice, bluish hue due to the cord being wrapped around his neck. He was breathing, however he was making small grunting noises with each breath. The nurses worked on him for a while trying to clear the mucus from his lungs, but he still wouldn't stop grunting. Both Kevin and I got to hold him for a couple of minutes, then off to the NICU he went, followed by Daddy hot on his heels. Mommy wasn't so lucky. I had to wait for the feeling to come back into my legs so I could get there. It took awhile for that and for the nurses to put me back together so I didn't make it to the NICU until 10:30 pm. Once I was there, I found him still grunting like a champion boxer. The nurse plopped him on my chest anyway and BAM! No more grunting. He just wanted mommy. The NICU nurses wanted to monitor him for a couple more hours to make sure the grunt didn't return, so we got to spend time holding him in the NICU before they told us that they were ready to bath him and send him back to our room with us. Kevin and I headed back to the room around 1 am, where I promptly sent him out for food since I hadn't eaten since 5:30 that morning. I'm not pretty when I'm hungry. We figured they wouldn't be bringing him back to our room until about 3 am, so we switched off the lights at 2 am to try to get some MUCH needed sleep, only to switch them back on 10 minutes later when the nurse knocked on our door announcing Junior's arrival. And of course he was hungry. There's no rest (ever again) for the weary.
The funny part is we still didn't have a name for him. We had been from one end of the alphabet to the other and still couldn't settle on one. Or any. We had been hoping that once we saw him, the clouds would part and his name would come to us. Yeah, not so much. The poor thing was nameless for the first 24 hours of his life. The birth certificate person came in the morning after his birth and asked if we had named him yet. We told her no, so she offered to come back 2 hours later. We asked what would happen if we still didn't have a name at that point and she said she'd come back 2 hours after that. We told her that she might want to save herself a trip and just come back after 4 hours. We were teetering between Mason and Greyden, even though all of our family and friends were already on the Greyden bandwagon. She ended up not coming back until late that evening and by then we agreed that he was definitely a Greyden. Greyden William Hockenberry. Grey for short. Although he's also Bubba, Punkin Head, Booger Toes, and Rose Bud. But oddly enough, he's not a Bob. Who would've thought it?
Eviction Day - November 1, 2010
We showed up to the hospital at 6 am on the dot. Okay, more like 6:10. It was early and my last day of freedom to sleep in, so I wasn't moving as fast as I should have been. (That and I was heading to the hospital to deliver the watermelon. I wasn't exactly looking forward to that part.) They got me signed in and started me on Pitocin around 7 am. I started contractions right away, but couldn't feel them until around 9:30. At that time the nurse told me that the anesthesiologist had two c-sections that day, one at 11:30 am and one at 1:00 pm. If I decided that I wanted an epidural, I had to let them know by either 10:30 to get it before 11:30, or wait until after 1:30. I was hanging tough and the contractions weren't bad at all. I told her I'd let her know later. Later ended up being about 20 minutes. Holy cow, those things can come on quick. By 10:00 I had made a few important decisions: 1) the fact that I was enduring the contractions was stupid. Why was I putting myself through this? 2) I was NOT going to miss my window of opportunity by trying to tough them out until after 1:00 pm and potentially not be able to get my epidural, 3) I was a goddess for even attempting to consider a natural birth, and 4) I am a wuss. Give me the damn shot.
The anesthesiologist came in shortly thereafter. Now, I'll be honest, I didn't even bother to look at the needle. I didn't need to. I was already PETRIFIED, no need to make it worse. I was shaking like a leaf (or like I was getting a tattoo - remember that Nikki?) and was shocked when he told me he was done. Besides the pinch of the numbing shots, it was nothing. As was everything thereafter. I hate to say it (and I'm sure I'm making some lifelong enemies), but labor and delivery was a piece of cake. They had me start pushing around 5:45 pm. Pushing actually ended up being the hardest part of the whole ordeal. I knew there was a watermelon somewhere that I was supposed to be pushing out, but I couldn't feel it. Evidently I was doing something right, because the nurse kept saying "right there! right there!" (and my husband kept saying "Git 'em girl! Git 'em!" which is coincidentally what he says to our dog, Bella, to get her to attack our other dog, Harley). Regardless of their encouragement, it didn't feel to me like I was making any progress. So I made the mistake of arguing that nothing was happening. The nurse assured me that we were getting there and asked if I would like a mirror so that I could see the progress. I must have looked at her like she had two heads and said "ummmm.....I don't know." Another wrong answer, because 30 seconds later there was a large mirror at the foot of the bed. THAT was interesting. Thank god they took it away before I actually delivered because I don't think Bob would have been to impressed to make his dramatic entrance into the world only to find mom passed out.
After pushing for over an hour, Baby Boy Hockenberry was born at 7:03 pm, weighing 6 pounds, 3 ounces and was 18.5 inches long. Unfortunately he was also a nice, bluish hue due to the cord being wrapped around his neck. He was breathing, however he was making small grunting noises with each breath. The nurses worked on him for a while trying to clear the mucus from his lungs, but he still wouldn't stop grunting. Both Kevin and I got to hold him for a couple of minutes, then off to the NICU he went, followed by Daddy hot on his heels. Mommy wasn't so lucky. I had to wait for the feeling to come back into my legs so I could get there. It took awhile for that and for the nurses to put me back together so I didn't make it to the NICU until 10:30 pm. Once I was there, I found him still grunting like a champion boxer. The nurse plopped him on my chest anyway and BAM! No more grunting. He just wanted mommy. The NICU nurses wanted to monitor him for a couple more hours to make sure the grunt didn't return, so we got to spend time holding him in the NICU before they told us that they were ready to bath him and send him back to our room with us. Kevin and I headed back to the room around 1 am, where I promptly sent him out for food since I hadn't eaten since 5:30 that morning. I'm not pretty when I'm hungry. We figured they wouldn't be bringing him back to our room until about 3 am, so we switched off the lights at 2 am to try to get some MUCH needed sleep, only to switch them back on 10 minutes later when the nurse knocked on our door announcing Junior's arrival. And of course he was hungry. There's no rest (ever again) for the weary.
The funny part is we still didn't have a name for him. We had been from one end of the alphabet to the other and still couldn't settle on one. Or any. We had been hoping that once we saw him, the clouds would part and his name would come to us. Yeah, not so much. The poor thing was nameless for the first 24 hours of his life. The birth certificate person came in the morning after his birth and asked if we had named him yet. We told her no, so she offered to come back 2 hours later. We asked what would happen if we still didn't have a name at that point and she said she'd come back 2 hours after that. We told her that she might want to save herself a trip and just come back after 4 hours. We were teetering between Mason and Greyden, even though all of our family and friends were already on the Greyden bandwagon. She ended up not coming back until late that evening and by then we agreed that he was definitely a Greyden. Greyden William Hockenberry. Grey for short. Although he's also Bubba, Punkin Head, Booger Toes, and Rose Bud. But oddly enough, he's not a Bob. Who would've thought it?
PS - It has come to my attention that I need to clarify my previous post. That is NOT me in the underwear shot. I have no idea who the poor girl is, but I'm hoping for her sake that it is Photoshop at its best. If that were actually me, you would 1) not find me posing in my underwear, and 2) not find me standing up. I'm at a loss as to how she's still vertical.
Me with myhappy epidural button:
First family photo, right after delivery:
In the NICU:
Back in our hospital room:
How many blonds does it take to change a diaper?
Home at last!
At Daddy's 30th birthday party. Not quite the party animal just yet:
Little Old Man outfit:
Saturday College Game Day at the Hockenberry's:
Stage 1:
Saturday College Game Day at the Hockenberry's:
Stage 2:
Saturday College Game Day at the Hockenberry's:
Stage 3:
Me with my
First family photo, right after delivery:
In the NICU:
Back in our hospital room:
How many blonds does it take to change a diaper?
Home at last!
At Daddy's 30th birthday party. Not quite the party animal just yet:
Little Old Man outfit:
Saturday College Game Day at the Hockenberry's:
Stage 1:
Saturday College Game Day at the Hockenberry's:
Stage 2:
Saturday College Game Day at the Hockenberry's:
Stage 3:
state 3 picture is adorable! love the post
ReplyDeleteSo I know I'm just an emotional pregnant lady, but your story has me tearing up. Just beautiful! And...how the hell do you make yourself look so good after being in labor. Do not expect nice pictures from me :-)
ReplyDeleteJust wait, you are going to have SO many more adventures to write about. I can't wait to hear them all :-)