Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Watch out! Beached whale alert!

It's been a busy week for me (not programs, but general house/kid stuff) so I haven't been birding much. But since Geoff's purging of the closet, I have lots and lots of photos from that fuzzy time I like to call "Pre-Blog"...
In honor of Lorelei's upcoming 4th birthday, let's look at the day she was born:
January 28, 2004...Mercy Hospital.

Jeez. I forgot how BIG women who are preggers can get. See that smile? I am comfortably anesthetized. I tried, really I did, with both girls, but with Isabelle, in the 38 hours it took to get her out, I would have killed someone without my epidural. Sure, pioneer women did it all the time...but they also beat their clothes on rocks in the crick and died of Typhoid.
You can lay in a bed of nails, or a bed of roses.

I was induced for both of my labors, so that gave us the opportunity to plan it so everyone could be there. (My friend Kim, who worked at that hospital, says that the nurses talk about people like me...the ones who have stadium seating in their labor rooms.)

But I don't actually don't know what it feels like to go into labor normally.
I wish we could go through our second labor first. The first child has to "pave the way" so to speak...but the second, at least in my experience, is way easier. Lorelei slid out like a peeled grape. I pushed through three contractions, and there she was:

(I will have to dig out the pictures from Isabelle's birth. We both look like we did 9 rounds with a prize fighter...Her, a huge bruise in the shape of my pelvic bone (she was coming out face first) and I looked like I had two black eyes from 10 days of pushing...okay, okay. But it felt like it!)

The proud Papa.

The proud Grand-Swami.

The proud auntie...Rachel is our Official Labor/Delivery videographer. She was there for both, video camera in hand. She's a trooper.

8 pounds, 5 ounces. And worth every tiny bit of it.

Here's the slightly confused Big Sister...Isabelle was only two when Lorelei was born, so she really didn't know what the heck was going. All she knew was that Mommy got really HUGE. And then she wasn't.

Suddenly, a family of four.

Proud Grand-Swamette.

Proud Mother-of-Susan.

Good grief. I don't look that good NOW.

You know that child slept for 5 hours on her first night? I kept waking up, thinking that she would need me, but she just slept on, with her whispery breathing. I do love that kid.


Mary said...

Susan, I loved this! I wish I had photos of my only daughter's birth.

And, you know what? That last photo of you and your comment made me hee haw. Why? Your smile IMMEDIATELY made me think of Meg Ryan. Seriously.

Trixie said...

You look radiant! And she is soooo pink. Ahhhh....

Anonymous said...

Gorgeous! Your birth stories remind me of my own. Only mine both ended in C-sections! I'm the pioneer woman who would have died in childbirth. So, thankfully, I wasn't a pioneer woman! :)

Nothing as good as a birth story!

Island Rambles Blog said...

Such lovely photos and you do look radient...we all share our birthing stories somehow and I get your story so deeply...nice..I was looking for the birdies but loved the memories...cheers

bobbie said...

What a lovely picture story as well as your words. Thanks for sharing. And yes, radiant is the word.
I've been enjoying your blog for some time now. So glad you love our Cape.

Susan Gets Native said...

Mary: Do you know, you aren't the first person who has said that? The doctor I used to work for said the same thing. And I used to say that he looks like Richard Gere. So we were quite a pair.

Trixie: She actually started out blue...I knew the amniotic fluid was green (meconium) but they didn't tell me she was cyanotic until way later. It took them an extra few minutes to "pink" her up.

Liza: Scary to think about, ain't it? You and me, pioneer women with kids stuck in us. Three cheers for modern medicine!!! Hip, hip....