On June 27th, Rex turned ten years old. This boy made quite the entrance when it was time.
First off, I had to be induced because of Cormac's birth. Looking back, I probably should have waited, but the idea of my baby having problems because of meconium really gave me a genuine concern. We started the induction at 9 PM. Darren decided to leave me at the hospital and get a good night's rest at home. Grandma Ingalls was watching the boys for us so he knew he could leave anytime. So away he went for a restful night and BOOM contractions started right away for me. All. night. long. it was contraction after contraction every two minutes.
By about 7 AM I was tired and ready for the next stage to start. The doctor came in to break my water hoping to hurry the process up a bit. At this point I called Darren and told him he should probably not go to work, but come to the hospital. I'm not sure what took him so long, but he didn't show up until close to 8:30-9 AM. By this point I'm just spent to the point that I decided I was not having a baby today. Nope. Not happening. Try again another day. I also decided I didn't have to breathe anymore. Yes, I was that spent. So I stopped breathing. Darren started freaking when my lips started turning colors. He slapped me and literally knocked me into my right mind again. The nurse and Darren made the decision to put oxygen on me just in case I did that stupid thing again. Then the nurse checked me and while she was figuring out how dilated I was I started to have a contraction. These were strong contractions before this, but wow, I think that particular contraction may have been the strongest one I ever, ever had. She said I went from 6 to 10 centimeters in that one contraction.
She paged the doctor and told me I could push if I wanted to. I don't think she realized I've been known to push babies out fairly quickly. (Blase was the longest at 15 minutes (ish) and 7 pushes.) So one push and OUT comes the sweet baby head. In walks the doctor as upset as doctors come. He was mad I started without him. Boohoo, cry me a river another day - I'm done having a baby by this point...remember. Then, because I'm awesome, I just push that sweet Rex right on out. He did have the cord wrapped around his neck once, so we did have to take a slight breather while the doctor remedied that.
This is where the story becomes ugly. The doctor was still in the middle of office hours, since it was close to 10:30(ish) (too many kids, too many birth stories!), so he decided to PULL the placenta out. Oh man. Death by doctor wasn't a far stretch by this point! Then he left. They cleaned me up, moved me into a recovery room, and I napped. Then the story became even uglier. I (wisely) called for a nurse to help me to the bathroom after my nap. As I sat up I felt some strange pain in my lower back. When I mentioned it to the nurses they just brushed it off as a lady who just had a baby. Up I stood and into the bathroom we went. Then...well, for lack of a better reference...all hell broke loose. I passed a bunch of golf-ball sized blood clots and started loosing more blood. I went limp and couldn't talk. I did think I was dying as I saw a light - but it was just the bathroom window. When I came back to the land of the talking they moved me into my bed and wouldn't let me up for four hours. I haven't had that many shots in all my life in my tender bottom.
Rex was a champ nurser and just adapted to me having to lay flat. He ate and ate and won the unofficial nursing award on that floor. About five that evening the doctor came in and after two attempts pulled a softball sized blood clot from inside of me. WOW. No wonder I didn't stop bleeding. I left the hospital a size 12 from all the fluids they put back into me. My pre-pregnancy size was a 6. Yah - I think they might have over did the fluids a bit. I had to buy new clothes. Moral of the story is - even ten years later I am a firm believer that a doctor should NEVER pull the placenta just to return to office hours. (boo, hiss)
Since the very beginning of his life, we have kind of just rolled with the punches with our sweet Rex. His birthday cake is an example of that. White cake mix - check. Two layers - check. Frosting - umm how about a bunch of leftover containers? A little chocolate between the layers, cream cheese on top, and vanilla on the sides. We called it our redneck birthday cake. It was a throw together special if I ever saw one! Yes, it tasted amazing.
Such a lucky kid! He even got to celebrate with his cousins!
(my favorite gift of his!)
Ok, so maybe this was my favorite, but it didn't fit me.
The Garbage Man - thanks Brech!
Happy birthday, Rex -
we love you to the moon and back and then down the road and over the river.
