In a few minutes, it will be exactly four years ago today that my Preschooler Formerly Known as Busy Baby was born.
It had been quite the hectic weekend, we had just gotten a new car, Busy Girl had made her First Communion and we had hosted a party, my MIL was here, and, I was scheduled to birth a baby surgically on Monday. But, on Sunday night of that weekend, I started feeling funny (in Wal-Mart of all places), and, by that evening it was clear I was in labor. Let me repeat: this was Sunday, I was scheduled for a c-section the following morning. I have babies removed, they don't come out down there. Labor was not on the agenda (note to whomever is getting ready to tell me how I'm endangering my children by having c-sections and medicine and stuff: whoa there, put down your keyboard, I don't have c-sections for convenience, babies get stuck down there, they don't come out, I've tried), so, I tried to wait it out until it was my scheduled time to go in, and, so my regular doctor would be back on duty.
Well, you can see where that idea got me when I tell you that we had to head to the hospital at 3:30am.
Upon my arrival, they promptly tried to kill me with an epidural, I guess it was too much medicine, I was tying to tell them I was seeing the light and dead relatives and stuff, when someone casually says, "Oh, I guess we should reduce the dose", I hurled and then St. Peter told me it wasn't my time.
The staff prepared me for surgery, and, when I got on the table in the OR (not an easy task in my state and unable to move my legs), it was clear that the table didn't work. So, they got another, and, I moved again, and, guess what? The second table didn't work, either. So, me and 10 or so of my new surgery friends waited for the 3rd table, and, when it got there, it wouldn't plug into the wall, it needed an adaptor. They politely declined my offer to run to Home Depot, and, eventually someone came back with the adaptor, and, we were in business.
Though we didn't find out the gender of the baby, it was widely (and, I do mean "wide") thought that I was having a girl . Even the hospital staff's unofficial calculations (heart rate, etc.) pointed toward me birthing a girl. So, when the baby was delivered someone says, "And, we have a...boy?", everyone in the room just kind of stopped for a second, and, then there was much rejoicing.
After we got home, we had a rough first few days when he got an infection and had to be hospitalized for 8 days. I'm not sure I've ever been as worried about anything in my life, but, all became well, and, now he's a happy, healthy little boy. Four year old, wow. Eventually we would have to tell Busy Boy that he wouldn't get a baby for his First Communion like Busy Girl, but, he settled for cupcakes instead.
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