We all knew it would happen. Foxy would steal my heart. It was inevitable.
Consider my heart stolen.
Foxy’s arrival was not at all what I had envisioned. Matter of fact, it was everything I feared it would be. We arrived at the hospital for induction on Tuesday evening at about 800pm. By 930pm, I was having steady contractions. Before too long, I was in real pain. I found myself going to the bathroom several times an hour, and each time it was an ordeal. Tim had to help with my IV and other cords hooked up to me. I absolutely hated getting in and out of the bed. Hospital beds are not comfortable.
Sometime in the middle of the night, the nurses offered me pain meds through my IV. They also promised me the meds would help me get some sleep. What they didn’t tell me is that the meds would make me loopy and vomit-y. Ugh.
The next morning I was only about 4 centimeters dilated. I was offered an epidural. I had previously thought I’d be a warrior and make it to 7 or 8, but I couldn’t get those meds in me fast enough. So much so that I became quite snappy at folks who were in the hall dilly dallying. Everything after the epidural was a blur.
There were some problems with her heartbeat slowing down with each contraction. I was given oxygen. There were hushed whispers of a dreaded c-section. Then I was told to “practice pushing.” My practice pushes showed the doctor that I was able to push the baby out. All of the sudden it was showtime. Lights went up, scrubs were put on and lots of people were in the room.
After about 6 pushes, she was out and whisked away for oxygen. I was so mad I didn’t get to really see her. But I was so doped up that I probably wouldn’t have remembered the moment anyway. Thankfully, my mom took a few pics so I could see the moment she made her debut. There was even a pic of Tim pulling her out. Real science fiction type stuff.
Here we are four days later. I am exhausted and sore. But I am totally and completely smitten.
I can’t kiss her or hug her or love her enough.
She is what I waited for.