I'll Take Some Cheese With my Whine

In nine more days I will have a baby.

I should be excited about that. I am not really that excited about that.

I am worried and stressed and fearful, but excited, no.


First of all, I am scared to death of another c-section. My first one went allright, aside from the six weeks it took me to recover from it, but the last one was just horrifying. It started badly and went from there. The nurse struggled to place an iv for what seemed like forever and I still have scars on my arms and hands from it. I think she stuck me about twelve different places. They didn't want to epidural me too early and, God forbid, my doctor come in and deliver my baby before morning so they gave me a dose of staidol they said would wear off in two hours. Try ten hours. It screwed with me. Fast forward to the OR and the epidural dude couldn't get the needle in my back, he kept hitting a nerve making me jump, totally involuntary I assure you, but it didn't stop that bitchy nurse from screaming at me to stop one inch from my nose...yeah, it's nice when the nurses have some people skills. By that time I was in a complete panic attack with the highly competent nurse screaming at me to stop panicking (ever had a panic attack? yeah, can't turn those on and off) and then she pretty much threw me onto the table and strapped me down with all the force she could muster. I know I pissed her off by showing up that night because I heard her tell the nurse at the desk that "damn, now I have to work" but, come on. So, I'm laying there in a full panic attack with my mind still blowing in and out from the drugs when the drug guy behind me thought it best to give me an oxygen mask. Did I ever mention that I don't do things on my face? There is no Pin the Tail on the Donkey for me, no pinata time, no snorkeling on our Bahamian vacation. The face, off limits, don't know why, just is. So when drug guy put that mask on me and I couldn't free my hands to pull it off, let's just say it wasn't pretty. Really pissed off monster nurse. They finally freed me from the facial prison in time for my husband to show up and get started. The birth itself went allright, we were shown the baby, they cleaned him up and Dad took off for the nursery with him leaving me sprawled out on that table again. By this time, drug dude had given me "something to calm me" at the request of my doctor so I was doing better, although I still had that weird staidol hangover interfering with my calm off and on. After a while I start to realizing that it was taking a much longer time to stitch me up compared to last time and so I started paying some attention to the conversation in the room. Drug dude asked if my uterus could be saved, OB said he was working on it, Nurse Monster asked if more blood was needed, OB gave her my blood type and sent her on, Someone asked "what do we do now?" and I started to freak again. WTF??? It didn't help that the nice drug guy who had been talking to me and soothing me was starting to freak out as well. I just knew I was going to die there. I didn't ask what was going on because, frankly, I didn't really want to know, but eventually different nurse came over, explained that my bladder had ruptured while pulling the baby out due to adhesions from the previous section and my mind went back to the moment an hour before when I was signing all the waivers and being told that I had a 2% chance of adhesions and a 3% chance of death, at which point OB looked over the curtain and said he had repaired everything, no big deal, but I would have to stay in the hospital a while longer and get a few extra days of morphine (Hallelujah)....then he asked if I was having anymore kids because he really wanted to tie my tubes because he didn't really want to have to perform another c-section on me again. He even had monster nurse go fetch the papers, which you are to sign BEFORE surgery. He seemed okay when I told him I really didn't want to have to do that and I never thought much about that conversation again, having tried to forget every detail of that hour, until the past few months. I have this horrible feeling that we will be repeating the same procedure all over again. My doctor hasn't said a word about being worried this time, but what can he say? It has to be done, I can't stay pregnant forever. So, sometimes I think, what if I die during this c-section? What would happen to my kids? I have mentioned that I fear death right? Not so much the dying itself, but the leaving my kids and family and missing out on so much.

So, that dampers my excitement a bit.....

Also, what in the world am I supposed to do with this baby? We tried to put a car seat in my car and there was no way Jacob could strap in with it. If I ever want to go somewhere, I will only be able to take two kids. Or buy a new car. But my car is paid for and a new car would require another payment blowing out of the pocket book every month. Essentially, if we have to purchase a new vehicle, Jacob is going to public school and I do think he would get beaten up every day there what with his weirdness, ADD, and the fact that we live in a pretty rough neighborhood and he doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut. There is also no closet space, no drawer space, and although this baby has a crib, Adam is now out one room and I have no idea where he will end up.

Plus, I have been trying to cram in all kinds of one-on-one time with each of my kids to the point of exhaustion. Jacob and I went strawberry picking with some of his friends this afternoon...at a farm with lots of mud. We are doing a wildlife park later this week and I have promised Adam a whole morning at that wretched mouse place one day. I really feel I need to do this because I know my time will be limited very soon, but it's taking a toll. I hurt and I'm tired and trying not to let that make me cranky with my kids because, you know, if I die and everything I don't want them to remember bitchy mommy, nice and loving mommy would go over so much better.

This really turned into a complete whine fest, sorry about that. I am 37 weeks pregnant and highly hormonal, shoot, I am surprised I didn't cry while typing this. I guess one thing to be excited about getting this over with is the fact that I will go home with a scrip for vicodin (helps me sleep, really), the hospital has awesome food (and you can wheel it right up to your chin while you lay in bed!), oh, and that baby everyone is so ready to see. It won't be long now.