Monday, April 22, 2013

I haven’t written for a while now. It’s not for lack of thoughts to say, but rather being held hostage to Gestating Cinco’s whims. Which included flying the coop earlier than I intended. But that’s kids for you. I didn’t even get to write my birth plan out, which included a request for the incredible hulk vaccine. Yes that’s real thing.

It’s not that she didn’t pick a good time. Well, at least as far as the father figure’s work schedule was concerned. And in all fairness to my youngest daughter, there’s no good time according to my schedule. As I realized when I double booked Mac’s swimming lessons and Baba’s soccer practice.
Gestated Cinco was polite enough to wait until after my two showers. Yes, I had two showers. Very different events, which were fun and useful. Especially as I received a car seat at the second one. So at least Gestated Cinco waited until it was legal to bring her home.

It all started with a trip to labor and delivery. Well actually it started with a detour through the back country roads to avoid miles long congestion on the freeway. This was a rather fitting metaphor for the rest of the day. I went in with the intention of being told to go home it’s called getting ready for a baby. So when time kept ticking by, I began to get anxious. Not because it meant baby was coming, but rather, because I had a two thirty dentist appointment for Baby. Well that didn’t happen. At least I am assuming that the father figure called and cancelled.

I was so not ready for Gestated Cinco, I went so far as to forget to bring the book I was eighty pages away from finishing. I could have polished off that sucker during the preliminary testing. But no. I had a sneaking suspicion that something might be up that morning. I downloaded a contraction timer for my phone, and gave the father figure a heads up as he left for work. I didn’t ever use my new contraction app as I decided in the early morning hours to sleep instead, figuring I would have other opportunities. Then there were multitudinous opportunities for distraction, including getting out the door only an hour later than I intended.  This was a mixed blessing, as I was unaware of the rate of contractions, but apparently plowed into labor blissfully unaware.

I alerted Grandma, who was wrangling the herd, through text message. This made it easier to pass off childcare arrangements to the father figure, who was granted the courtesy of a phone call. It’s hard, when you’ve just been admitted to labor and delivery, to properly convey the need to come soon, because things are moving along, but not to panic and come with the impression that Gestating Cinco was actually Delivering Cinco. Whatever I said worked, because he arrived just as I was getting concerned, waltzing in wearing his UPS uniform, which of course prompted plenty of delivery jokes.
And then we waited. I’m sure it was partly because I had an epidural and couldn’t stand to get her to position properly, at least quickly. But I didn’t care. It was honestly the most relaxed I had been in probably a year. I was answering phone calls from friends trying to arrange carpools, texting other friends and harassing the father figure. I was also slightly embarrassed because it certainly seemed to me that everything had stopped. I love drugs.

Not that everything went perfectly smoothly. Apparently my blood pressure dropped, or plummeted as it were. I don’t really remember, I just felt not awesome and then someone was giving me epinephrine. And by someone, I mean one of the nine people in the room. Father figure has related his perception of events, but all I heard is that a nurse was rubbing his shoulders. He says to reassure him, but what else could he really say?

Gestating Cinco became very demure and took her time arriving. This gave me time to see that there was a massive explosion in Texas near Waco, which prompted texting to a brother who is physically incapable of replying to texts. So after a whole five minutes of silence I dropped the “I’m in labor so you’d better respond now.” Thus began the geography lesson as to the relative proximity of West, Texas to Waco, Texas. Twenty miles, in case you were wondering.

So she came. And shared her impressions of the world. Loudly. It didn’t help that my first reaction to my little girl was “you are fat!” Which is true, she has cheeks like no newborn’s business. She said her piece and promptly scored a ten on her Apgar test. Which is a first in this family.

We’re slowly adjusting. She’s required feeding three times during the writing of this blog. But she’s Italian, so that’s to be expected. I mentioned to father figure that I spent nine months dreading having a fifth child. This wasn’t in my game plan and I really wasn’t on board with the whole shaking it up aspect. But I knew rationally that a few days into it and I would be baffled that I ever thought our family complete before she arrived. I was off in my timing. She felt absolutely right immediately. As I reminisced with the father figure, he slyly said “we’ll see how you feel after the tenth one.” The boy will do anything to get himself a fifteen seater van. I’ve told him it will cost him one wife, but that doesn’t seem to be a deterrent. 

No comments:

Post a Comment