I don’t know about you, but after I gave birth, a million photos were taken of me and the baby. Do I really want to look like hell in some of the most important pictures in my little guy’s life?
Can’t they make hospital food more appetizing? I mean, if we’re stuck in a bed for days, how about a nice steak? I’m just saying…
I’m so excited to have my new little guy, but I’m also excited that I’m not ever going through this again! No more pregnancy rashes on the arms, no more swollen feet, and no more C-sections! Hallelujah.
Man, did that kid feel like he was about to launch out. I’ve been lucky I don’t have anything too funky on my belly (the arms, though forget it!). But this stretch mark cream bizness… come on! My skin is as dry as crackers, and I didn’t get any stretch marks. It’s hormonal… but if George Clooney wants to rub some stretch cream on me, I will become a convert.
I know I need to get a grip. Thought it was just me, but a mom friend who just had a C-section said she screamed and demanded the anesthesiologist administer the IV since she too had had a bad experience. I’m actively trying to calm myself about it even as I write. I wish they didn’t scare me, but they do.
Days away… I have been thinking a lot about what I want to do differently from my last delivery. But I also have to stop myself from trying to overplan, even if it’s trying to correct things from before. ‘Cause it could be so different. And as much as I want a nice experience for me, I really want my little boy to come out healthy and screaming. The rest is gravy. Of course I’d like to be healthy too. I just saw an Oprah where the mom got a flesh-eating virus, so now I have to worry about that too. Harumph.
Tonight was my night for a cocktail. Days from delivery, and darn it, it was good. As I slurped, my friend and I recounted how we use to sit on the armrest of our parents’ cars. Who had a car seat?
The doc says I can drink now… a little… I didn’t do shots and probably won’t have more than a sip of beer in a few days. But from what I hear, it’s better to drink now than when I nurse.
Hope my son won’t be too short.
This pregnancy has differed in so many ways from my first. For one thing, I thought it was my husband’s duty to go with me to nearly all doctor visits. Now, I’m like, “If you are busy it’s no big deal.” Or “Just come to the ultrasounds,” which makes me him be more like, “I wanna come!” Here is where I confess about my sweet husband bugging me at the doctors.