Maternity Leave

My maternity leave officially ends in 2 more days. I am sad, excited, nervous, wrought with fear, anxious and jumping out of my skin all at the same time.

This maternity leave has meant so much to me. Not only did I give birth and nurture an amazingly gorgeous little girl for 8 weeks, but I also got to be so much more of a mom to Luke. I got to bring him to school every morning...with no need for before care. I got to pick him up from school everyday at regular pick up time, do homework with him, study with him and basically spend 3 - 4 hours a day with him more than what I normally ever was able to spend since I was on maternity leave for his birth.

I was able to get to know my son on a deeper level. Share more jokes. Relax more with him. Be the mom to him that all of us working moms dream that we can be even though we accept that we never can and never will.

It was exhausting. Maternity leave for Luke was filled with getting out of our 1 bedroom apartment and going for walks, shopping, meeting up with people for lunch. Maternity leave for Shelby actually revolved much less around Shelby. We got out of the house for brother's football games and practices but now with a 2000 square ft house to keep clean, the husband and the son - my days really revolved around chores, chores and more chores.

In fact, I've learned to do chores so slowly and lackadaisically now, that I fear the first few weeks of returning to work, my house will begin to house rats and other kinds of vermin. I have no idea how to rush, hurry, bust ass anymore like I used to and I'm a bit worried about that since that is the personality trait that I admire most in myself.

So this time next week, I'll be at work, making money and rushing home with kids in tow after it's already dark outside. Eating pizza rolls and folding laundry while carrying Shelby in a Baby Bjorn to multi task. I'm just ready to get there...this waiting for next week to finally happen kind of sucks. I want to just jump in and get a schedule and prove myself to myself again...and get that so desperately needed paycheck.

So thank you, Shelby. Thank you for the privelage and the honor to just be your mother. But thank you also for giving me the privelage and the honor to have more time with your brother. I love you both so very much, but mommy has to go kick some ass at work so that you can grow up knowing that you can be whatever it is in this world that you want to be, and so that brother will choose a woman who gets off her ass and doesn't expect hand outs.

Love

The only thing missing from this photo is Luke. If Luke were in it, then you would see the 3 things that I live for. Meet Ziggy, the best daddy and husband I've ever known.

Cover your Boobs!

I am very confident in my relationship with Ziggy. He is very well loved and very well taken care of physically, emotionally and sexually. I never worry over him straying or cheating and I know that even though we are technically "newlyweds", we've been together for over 5 years now, married for 2, and I don't foresee myself needing to worry in the future.

We're best friends and are both pretty confident that if such a thing as soul mates exists, then we are each other's.

However, do you have to sling your boobs in my husband's face every time you are near him? My ample size D's are plenty enough for him, but having yours in his face every time he sees you is starting to piss me off.

Also, please buy a bra that fits. Size D chics should NEVER wear demi cups outside of the bedroom. Demi cups on a D chic cause nasty over spillage that while sexy in the bedroom, it makes you look like you have a butt crack in between your boobs when they spill out of your demi cups under an incredibly tight white t-shirt.

Size D chics (and DD chics trying to fool everyone into thinking they are D chics) need full coverage bras outside of the bedroom. We need hefty straps and full support in order to look smooth and presentable. My husband is fully aware that I'll wear whatever he wants me to wear in our bedroom, but when I leave the house, he prefers that I give the appearance of being a lady...with children and a husband who can cover her shit up and not show it all to the world. He finds it more sexy that I reserve that display ONLY for him and that I'm not showing it off to every man I see.

My boobs belong to Ziggy and Ziggy alone and I wish yours would belong only to your husband as well. So while I'm not concerned that Ziggy notices or even cares about your display of boobage, I would still appreciate it if you cover your shit up, show yourself some respect and show your friends some respect. There are children around and I don't want my son seeing over 60% of what you have under there just by coming to you to ask you for a god damn Capri Sun.

Thanks.

Cheating

I have LOTS to say, but I'm going to cheat with a photo of each of my babies and I'll try to post more on Monday.

All by Myself

Today is my first day all alone with Shelby. Ziggy returned to work. Luke went to school. Just me...and her.

I planned tons of chores and projects and all kinds of things to keep me busy so I wouldn't get too sad being alone and so far so good. I have only 2 hours left before it's time to go get Luke from school and I'm almost amazed at how fast the day flew by.

I'm 10 days post partum. My incision is looking good. I'm down to about 1 percocet a day and 1 600mg Motrin. Nnot too shabby. I even took my first stab at post partum exercise today with a light walk in the neighborhood. I was really crampy after the walk, and I had a lot more blood than I've had in the past couple days...so that worries me a smidge, but I'm just going to chill for the next 2 hours and rest up.

Let's talk about weight...to hold myself accountable, I will try to post my weight at least once a week. I was 145 when I got married. In the 18 months of trying to conceive, I gained 30 pounds (thank you for that, Clomid!). I was 175 when I got my BFP and I was 180 at my first pre natal appointment.

At my pre op appointment the day before delivery, I was 199. This morning, I am 174. So I'm guessing that since I'm almost 2 weeks post partum, 170ish will be where I'll be starting from. That's about 20 - 25 pounds away from "happy weight"....my sexy playah weight.

Let's go!

Here she is!

And Then She Was Here

Shelby Renee was born at 9:02am on 9/18/09 weighing in at 8lbs 3oz and 19 and 1/2 inches long.

She is gorgeous and wonderful and all things fabulous.

I always hated it when people post ridiculously long birth stories, because really, who cares? But now that I've experienced another "birth story", I DO plan to write it out and now I feel like a goober for thinking birth stories are dumb.

I just took 15mg of Percocet, so if I made errors, don't judge me.

I came in at 6:00am on 9/18/09 for my scheduled c-section. I got my IV, I got some anti nausea drugs and I was monitored with the belly heart/contraction monitors for a while.

At 8:00am, they wheeled me into the operating room. When you're having a scheduled c-sec, they do your anesthesia right there in the frickin operating room, so while you're waiting for your anesthesiologist, you get to sit there and read/stare at every sign/tool/machine and basically scare the shit out of yourself.

The anesthesiologist came in and game me my spinal. While I'd rather never have a spinal again for the rest of my life, it wasn't all that bad. It felt similar to the epidural I had for Luke 9 years ago and took a ridiculously long time (to me, anyway) to take affect.

They laid me down and started with all their "doctor speak". I asked for my husband 10 times and I started freaking out. They had made the first cut without my husband in the room!!! A nurse ran out to get him. Ziggy said that when he walked in, the doctors already had bloody gloves and there were blood drops on the floor.

I wasn't hurting, but I could literally FEEL everything they were doing. It felt like rubber bands snapping in me. Between that and finally having Ziggy sitting next to me with a terrified look in his eyes, I had a full blown panic attack. They strapped down my arms and immediately shot me up with a drug that I would later learn was Ketamine.

Now here is finally the benefit of having an ex-addict husband. He can explain drugs to me better than any pharmacist can. Ketamine's "street name" is Special K. When abused, it is used as a hallucinigenic and yes, my dear husband has experienced it many times.

Let's just say that the next five minutes were the strangest and best 5 minutes of my life. I was high as a kite and I could have cared less if they killed me or not. Fabulous shit, that Ketamine is, and if you ever have the chance to experience it, by all means, go for it!

I remember seeing Shelby naked and being carried through the room. I remember them calling Ziggy over to see her. He cut her cord, which he swore he wouldn't do, but he did it. I remember him looking at me like he knew what I was experiencing with the Ketamine and he was so sorry and so scared to leave me. He kissed me and whispered "don't worry, it's a short high, I promise" and he left with Shelby.

I was left alone then with 2 doctors who were sewing me up and having coffee talk with me...kind of strange to talk to your doctor about her weekend plans when you know that she's stitching up your innards while she speaks. I got more shots of god knows what and was wheeled to recovery.

Once in recovery, I was shot up with Dilaudin, another lovely drug that my husband later explained to me and called it "pretty good shit". Again, so great to have a husband who once abused almost everything I was being given.

Shelby was taken for hours. And hours. And hours. Erick was being given all of the info - no one was talking to me...I guess so that I would relax? Who knows, but it took 7 and 1/2 hours for me to actually get to hold my daughter. True to his word though, Ziggy made sure that I was the one who held her first.

She had swallowed amniotic fluid on her way out and had fluid in her lungs and she was breathing too fast so she had to be monitored in the nursery for a while. It was torture waiting for her, but once we finally got her...she was ours.

The best part of this whole experience? Watching Ziggy become a father. I've never been more impressed with a man in all my life. When I say that he stepped up, I truly mean that she is 2 days old and I already feel like I could go out of town for a week and Ziggy would be just fine alone with his daughter. He's jumped right in and it's a beautiful sight to see.

So that's my birth story. I'm in the hospital until tomorrow so I need to get my butt back in bed. I was diagnosed with bronchitis Friday night after my doctor realized that even with all the drugs, I was coughing through my whole surgery(fabulous, right?). So I'm on about 9 million extra drugs for that, plus I have to do breathing treatments all day long. This was actually the really shortened version of the birth story, but no need to bother you with pages of details that are probably only important to me.

Smooches and hugs. I promise to post a photo when we get home.