So...how did it go?
It's true what they say about the second time. Soooo much easier.
How was the pitocin?
My body magically went into labor on its own that morning. Thanks to Joy for reminding me to shave, if only because doing so gave me enough time in the shower to notice my mucus plug depart down the drain. Speaking of which, could there be a more disgusting term for anything anywhere? Was phlegm ball taken? Prepartum loogie mass?
(Okay, that's braincell-less digression number 1)
Hit the hospital around 6:30. Contrax started around 8, pitocin at 8:15 (which never went above a 1ml drip , which is hardly an induction at all). By 10:30 I asked for the blessed, glorious epidural. I'm pretty tough but I'm no masochist. Slept for an hour or so, was fully dilated when they checked me at 12:30, called the parents and got ready to start pushing.
How long did you push?
I had the understanding it would take about half the time it did to push first go around. So, 20 minutes or so was my expectation.
I pushed once before hearing, "There she is! There's the head! Now stop pushing...we have to prep the table!"
She was born one push later. No burning, no tears, no stitches, no major trauma. Just a big, round, plump, squishy, healthy baby covered in goo, squirming on my chest.
How was Nate?
Amazing through the whole thing. Supportive, and uncharacteristically hand-holding and wonderful. Besides, he's now in love with my OB after she sat down for 45 minutes and traded political conspiracy theories with him.
He then turned the subsequent couple of hours into a video game, watching the other l&d patients' progress on our monitor (it displays all of them for the nurses) and doing color commentary: Okay- looks like 403 is beating you. I think she's going to go first. Oh wait, room 407 is having lots of contractions now. My money's on her, although you're pretty close behind. Wait! We have a dark horse in the race now, room 409 who's contracting once every 3 minutes...
Nate is very happy to declare that I was the winner. Whoo!
How did you get to the name Sage?
Love the meaning, the sound, the herb, the color...and once I realized Nate didn't say no to it right away (like, um, every other suggestion I had), I had a pretty good idea it was going to stick. But with all the amazing name recos from readers over the past weeks, Thalia and Sage will have a pool of doll/stuffed animal/pet names for the rest of their lives.
Who does she look like?
Nate: A baby.
Me: Nate's sister Lexi. Sometimes my mother. Sometimes her cousin Bea. Sometimes this guy I worked with like 15 years ago.
Is she anything like Thalia?
So far not a bit. Except for being perfect and all.
Thalia was smiling and alert from moment one. This little girl took her own sweet time getting acclimated to the world, opening her eyes, interacting with us. I caught a first beautiful little smile this morning. It was gas for sure, but as an indicator of what's to come, I'll take it.
She's also sleeping somewhat well--clearly exhausted from the past 9 months of destroying my innards nonstop--although she did nurse pretty much every hour last night. Sigh, say my poor abused nipples
So how are those boobs?
I'd prefer that you call them by their proper names: 90-pound milk bags of doom.
How's Thalia doing with it all?
She amazed us with her total lack of predictability in asking to climb into the baby's bassinet at the hospital. Has a toddler ever done something like that? Never. Not possible.
Overall, she seems surprisingly adaptable to the changes. But who can blame her - she's gotten more presents and balloons and ice cream and cookies since this baby came along than I think in her entire 22 months combined. I'm sure by now she's like, "bring on more babies!"
You know we really only came here to see baby pictures right?
Oh, um...yeah. Right. Sorry.