Here ya go...you asked for it...

So at the request of my fav sparkly blogger, MODG, I need to give you birth details. No not height & weight, but actual details of the birthing process is what she's after. No prob.

Unfortunatly, it was fairly uneventful, and undramatic this time. I had to be there at 7am, with the surgery scheduled at 9am. I couldn't eat after midnight the night before sweet. Sweet, tell a pregnant chick not to eat. Awesome. So I wolfed down everything in sight until 11:30 the night before. So I wake up, take a shower, put my sweats back on...With my first son, I actually got up & dressed cute to go to the hospital, like in case I saw someone I knew or something, I don't know. But this time I said eff that, I'm putting the same sweats back on I've had on for like 4 days. Whatev. And you can't wear make-up there either, or take jewelry. So I was pretty much a hot mess. Without diamonds. Killer.

So I get there, and they show me to my suite. Yes, I said SUITE. Suite 1 to be exact, which I consider the best place in the house because I was at the end of the hall, where I heard no noise from anyone else's room. Perfect. So we walk in, and the nurse hands me a little bottle of antiseptic and told me to go take a shower & clean my belly really well with the antiseptic. I'm thinking, I just took a GD shower. So I, the queen of shallow questions at doctors/nurses/any medical staff really, ask "Ummm....can I use my shampoo?" because you're not supposed to use ANYTHING when you prep for surgery. Just a plain water shower. Of course, I really did use my shampoo & conditioner at home, because I don't want nasty hair in the thousands of pictures sure to be snapped that day. So nurse says "You don't have to wash your hair, just get your belly." Okay, phew. I can handle a shower for the lower half only.

So I go in, strip down, mind you, I was at the hospital in town that I did not want. My first son was born at a larger, more advanced care hospital, and I was really disappointed that I couldn't go there. My doctor was already scheduled to be at this one. So I am LOOKING for things to be pissed about. So I go into the shower, turn the water on...It took me about 10 minutes to get the water to go from freezing-ice-ass cold, to warm. As I'm fumbling with the shower water, I'm thinking "A cold shower is NOT the way I wanted this to begin. This is not a good sign, not good, not good. I hopeI live..."

*For the record, I just got up to go poop, and my butthole bled, and it hurts so bad. I'm pretty sure I have hemorroids. Stellar. The things we go through for babies...*

Anywoo, I get through the shower scene, and come out and tell Hubs about it and I was growing incresingly more weary of this place. I hop into bed (not really HOP) and the nurse comes back to start my IV, and give me antibiotics. *This is where we need to remember that I have not eaten.*

About 30 min. goes by and I start feeling sick. The nurse grabs a bedpan and I sit there with it, waiting to puke. At this point, I'm feeling sick, it's almost 9am, so I'm counting the minutes until the take me back. The stomach issues combined with anxiety was not working for me. And I was seriously contemplating calling the whole thing off & keeping the baby in forever, because I was pretty sure I was gonna die.

So at 9am, a nurse calls my room & says the doctor is just now starting the surgery ahead of mine. So it's gonna be awhile. You've GOT to be kidding me. So finally, at 9:45, they come & get me. (I have yet to puke.) As they wheel my bed down the hall to the OR, I see a nurse run across the hall, that I went to college with. So then I panic thinking, I wonder who's gonna see me naked in the OR that I met in college. I went to a community/technical school, i.e. LOTS of nurses, and even though I didn't go into nursing, I still took a lot of classes with them for dental hygiene. So I'm flipping out inside my head about this, and as soon as they push me through the doors, I'm scanning every nurse & tech in there for who I knew, because there HAD to be someone. Of course, they all had masks covering everything but their eyes, and caps over their hair. So I gave up on that pretty quickly.

They get me positioned to start my spinal block, and there was a surg. tech in front of me helping to hold my shoulders down. This chick was cool. I couldn't see her face, but we sat there & chatted like we were BFF's. Sweet. *Sidenote about the spinal block: it never occured to me, nor did anyone tell me, that since you can't feel anything, you lose control of what's going on down below. GD.*

So they lay me down & pick me up to move me to the table, and I heard myself let out the most amazing, loud, long fart EVER. And by the time I heard it and realized what it was, I was almost disappointed, that I couldn't feel it, because I'm sure that I would've felt such relief! And then I got embarrassed, but figured everyone probably does it, so whatev. Kind of like the time I farted at my hot chiropractor's office. But that's another (embarrassing) story.

So I can't feel my legs & they strap my arms down ("Like Jesus on the cross" my husband says). And in comes hubs, in all his sterile jumpsuit gear. I told him he looked like he was gonna go paint a house.

And then comes the puking. I turn my head to the side, someone was holding a bedpan by my mouth & the anesthiesilogist was wiping my mouth with a wet washcloth. I felt like I was 95, dying in a nursing home. And I couldn't move my legs, which I became very uncomfortable with, and thought about how much that would suck.

So they cut me open, and the whole time the doctors & nurses are talking about a number of thins, such as Joe Lieberman, and why another doctor hasn't had kids yet, and she's been married for 4 years...I guess to them it's the same as when I chat with my co-workers while I clean people's teeth, so it didn't really bother me to hear their political views.

I continue to puke through the entire surgery. Pretty much non-stop. They push about 5 different meds in my IV to get me to stop and nothing was working. The anesth. tells me a little nausea is normal, but in more words or less, says this is extreme. Awesomeness, again. I hear him saying "Give her some blahgitty-blah, that's not working....Okay, give her mish-moshshingtston, she's REALLY sick. We've GOTTA get this under control..." Cool, I'm gonna puke my insides out. I'm thinking what's it like to be my doctor, with my belly cut open and seeing my stomach contracting as I'm heaving & puking. I'm a nerd, so I think that's probably pretty cool to see. Oh yeah, and as soon as I started puking, I started crying. Duh. So one of the doctors asked why I was crying so much & I wanted to say "Because I 'vebeen trying to be perfect for 9 months, and I've only cried ONCE, so let me cry now IDIOT!" but it came out more like "I cry when I puke & I'm just emotional."

So I DO feel my doctor start tugging to get the baby out. The placenta had been in front my entire pregnancy, and was now positioned up top. So I think that's probably what made this a little more difficult, bc she took my first child out in about 10 seconds...this time, she's tugging and tugging, and I can one of my ribs coming out with it (not really, but either baby or placenta was stuck up there.) and my doctor is down there like "Sorry Sarah..." I'm good, thanks. So finally, baby comes out! I heard a little bit of crying but not too much. Hubs walks over to see her & watch the nurses clean her up. My doctor is aware I have a strict rule that I do not want to see my babies all bloody & covered in God knows what, because I think that's creepy, so neither of my children did I see until they were clean & wrapped in a little blanket, like a picture of perfection. So as they are working on her, hubs comes back over & says "How do we keep having red-haired kids? She's got reddish hair!" And I laughed. No, my kids are not orange hair & freckles, my son has a little tint of red, in his brown hair, and people always comment "Is his hair kinda RED?" Yes, it is. No, I don't know where he got it. The mailman I guess. Whatev.

So little Brynn's hair did look reddish the first day, the following day faded to a strawberry-blonde, and is now a light brown.

Well, my baby #1 is asking for lunch, so I'll to continue this, documenting recovery at a later time...Deuces.

You're welcome.

Baby, it's cold outside...

Well here I am! Alive & well! Brynn Elena was born 12/31/09 at 10:26 am, weighing in at a petite 7lbs even, 20 in long! She is so beautiful! The delivery went great, my recovery is doing just as great, and our first night home wasn't too bad either. Minimal fussing, although, I did not sleep a wink until 7am. Mommies are like that; too many things running through my mind...

I've got a lot to do around here, so I apologize I probably won't be visiting too many blogs this week. I just wanted a quick post to tell everyone who cares enough to read my blog, that we are home & well.

I will take the time to say, that I feel so blessed!! I don't know whatever I ever did to deserve all of the wonderful things in my life, but I must've done something right...My husband has been beyond amazing, my son is adjusting extremely well into the big brother role, and my new little girl has me wrapped! I'll be honest, I really wasn't sure how I could love another child as much as my first, and I knew everyone always says that you will, but I remained pretty darn unsure. It truly is amazing how love grows! For her, for my son, and for my husband. 10 years ago, I remember writing a paper in high school asking where I'd be in 10 years. I believe it said working as a single, childless, fashion designer in LA. I never thought I'd be a married dental hygienist & mother of 2, still in Ohio. And there's nowhere else I'd rather be.

What am i doing on New Years Eve, you ask?? I'll tell you.

Allright, well this will *probably* be my last post before doomsday, I mean, baby day comes. Unless something tragic worth telling happens, which is quite possible considering my plans for the next couple days...

Anywho- Today is Monday, and Thursday at 9am, my stomach is once again being sliced open once again, to remove an alien being that will bring me both joy & misery. Joy, that I have another baby, misery, that my wonderful nights of sleep will be gone, that I just got to the point with my son, where I can turn him loose at family functions, and not have too watch him TOO closely & actually get some adult time in. It's all over. Here we go again.

And to top it all off, I will probably not be released from the hospital until Sunday, and I DO NOT HAVE A LAPTOP. I'm pretty sure if I don't die in surgery, I may die from lack of facebook. I have been told MULTIPLE times in the past week how much people look forward to my status updates...Now if only they'd read my damn blog too.

So farewell for the next week or so. Tomorrow, I may be attempting to take my son to the movies for the 1st time. Yeah. That ought to be good. And then Wednesday, we're apparently going out to eat with family members. Again, should be interesting.

So bye. I'm sure I'll have some good shit to blog about when I return!

Merry Christmas to all....and good luck paying your bills!

Ahhhh Christmas Eve...got the house cleaned (Santa doesn't come to dirty houses), got Santa's cookies made (hope he likes Pillsbury...yep, yep he does...) and made the annual Christmas Eve run to Toys R Us for the last minute gifts. This year: an easel pad for the art easel he's getting, dry erase markers, for said easel, they were out of chalk for the chalkboard side, but I made up for it with a Toy Story popcorn tin, that will eventually hold toys. And also a small gift for each of 2 family Christmas' in which Santa visits and brings the kids toys. A small Trio set that builds an airplane, and the travel size version of Perfection.

I also had to talk myself down from dropping $50 on a Christmas train to circle the tree...I'll be going back Saturday morning to check the after-Christmas sale on that. We always had one at my dad's house, and I thought it was SO COOL.

Merry Christmas to all my bloggy friends! I hope yours turns out to be as awesome as mine is turning out to be! We thought this may be our hardest Christmas yet, but have been so blessed! We actually bought each other-NICE-gifts, our little boy got everything he could've dreamed of, and then some...my husband was blessed enough to pick up a lot of overtime the past couple months that made it all happen. We were so worried with the baby coming, how we could afford all of this at once, and we made it happen. I feel so thankful!!

P.S. I'm still baking that bun in my oven. Hopefully, she stays put! One more week! Almost there! Thank goodness, bc my back very well may give out on me soon!

Happy Holidays everyone!

A Plea to my Unborn Child...

First, let me briefly explain that my first birthing experience was semi-traumatic. I was induced the day before my due date, went through almost 12 hours of labor (and had a horrible reaction to the epidural in the process), and after an hour & 15 min of pushing, he just would not come out. So on we went to the OR, where I had an emergency c-section. Woohoo.

For these reasons, I chose to just schedule my c-section this time because I just don't feel the need to go through all of that again. Okay, I get the idea, once was enough. So I decided to make my life as easy as possible this time. I am scheduled to go in at 9am on Dec. 31st.

So I go to the Dr today, and she does my exam, looks at me questioningly and says

"Are you contracting?"

"Um no. And I'm really trying to avoid it..."

"Well, if you do, call us right away so we can do your c/s that day. You're 1 cm dilated, and your cervix is pretty soft. I'm not too concerned, but you may go into labor."

"I better frickin' not..."

And to myself, I am thinking, it would be my f-ing luck, Christmas Day or some shit...

So this is my plea to my fetus:

Dear daughter,
You and I will have plenty of years ahead of us to not get along. Please do not start now. That'd be great. Stay cookin'. Thanks.
Love, Your haggard mother

I have a case of the Mondays...

Mondays SUCK. Now that Jon & Kate is over, at least. I have nothing to look forward to. At least they moved Cake Boss up, so there's a chance I MAY be able to stay up to watch it, seeing as how my DVR decided to quit working last week...and BTW we are switching providers on Wednesday, so I'm sure that will be a whole other post. Our electronic set-up is pretty elaborate, so a new provider is going to rock my world. I still haven't figured out how to work what we've got. And we've lived here 3 years...

My husband, the electrician/electronic buff, is also debating on which LED or LCD or ABCDEFG tv to buy right now, bc apparently, we are in dire need for a giant tv for the GARAGE so he can watch football out there with his friends. We've been saying we need a new bedroom tv, so we can give ours to our son, bc his is a peice of crap, so I'm totally fine with that. However, he decided to do some online browsing last night, and put not 1, but 2, ABCDEFG tv's in his "cart". I talked him down, bc I feel this is excessive. So he decides 1 will do the job, but here's the issue: if he chooses just 1, it will go in our bedroom, but also needs to be able to be moved into the garage for big games. Fine. No prob. Except he wants at least a 40". I think a 40" tv in our bedroom is RIDICULOUS. If we had some wonderful, big master suite, ok fine. But we don't. We have a 10 x 10 room. That barely fits our furniture. Ummmm no. I will keep you posted on the outcome of this.

Yesterday was also Hubs birthday. Which I spent at a surprise baby shower, thrown by my friends. And Hubs was in on it. He had to be, bc when my BFF asked me to hang out, I originally told her no bc it was his birthday, and most days, I enjoy married life, which would end if I made plans with my friends on his bday. So she texted him and basically told him to find something else to do bc he was effing up her plan.

So, since I didn't have time yesterday, I made his bday cake today. A pineapple upside down cake. My first I've ever made, and ummm...I've had better. But it was what was in the cupboard so that's what he got. And my wonderful, cute little innocent offspring asked for a peice, so I start to get him a peice, as he threw the newspaper pages all over the floor one by one. This is the treatment I get. I make them cake; they make me a mess to clean. Awesome.

I dedicate this post to...(Hiding from the Kids)

So I just did something, that had you told me 10 years ago as I filled out my "Where do you see yourself in 10 years?" paper in high school, I would've never thought to write down.

I am home alone with my lovely offspring, whom, tonight, has mixed up his indoor & outdoor voices and feels he must SCREAM.EVERY.LAST.WORD. and in my

(I just stopped mid-type bc said offspring just decided to pour his cup of green kool-aid onto the carpet, to which I looked up to heaven, raise my hands and sang "Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!", hoping that Jesus himself would keep me from flipping the eff out.)

...lost my train of thought...

Oh yes. In my attempt to save my sanity, I decided I MUST have a fudgesicle. But how, do I accomplish this, seeing as I already gave 1 to darling offspring 2 hours ago? How will I EVER pull off eating this treat without more screaming???

I hid & locked myself in the bathroom. There I sat. On the toilet (and yes, i figured might as well pee since I'm in there.) I sat, pants down, eating a fudgesicle. AND texted hubs at the same time to tell him exactly what I was doing, and promising I WOULD send a picture, but do not trust that he wouldn't show it to his class full of electricians.

So here's to you, Cheif. My (Hiding from the Kids) moment. Of the day.

Oh shit, I just ripped the armpit hole of my t-shirt even bigger as I scratched an itch just then. (What will I do when my fav. college t-shirt is unwearable???)