"Numbing spray...I'll let you figure out what that is for."

[Warning: TMI post about childbirth unpleasantness! Not for the easily embarrassed or squeamish or my dad!]

So labor? Piece of cake. Not a particularly delicious piece of cake, mind you, but at least once it's over, it's over.

But the recovery – nobody talks about the recovery!

My friend said it best when she told me, “You will lose all dignity in the hospital.” Labor is bad enough – you bleed, tear, get stitched up, and parts of you which are better left unseen are front and center. (But for the record, I did not poop on the table! I've never been so proud.)

But afterward, I still had a shred of dignity left. Even after a nurse put one-size-fits-most granny panties and a diaper-sized pad on me, I still had dignity. But then I was wheeled down to recovery, and told that a nurse was required to help me use the bathroom.

I held it for a long time. Oh yes, as long as I could muster (which, post-childbirth, was about 30 seconds after the urge came). But that fateful moment came when I got the required help. She walked me to the bathroom. She sat me down on the toilet. She proceeded to instruct me on the 10-step process on going to the bathroom, and then she watched. And then I flushed my remaining dignity down the toilet.

I will never have a clean shirt again.

It's hard to believe that my baby is almost eight-weeks old! Her favorite things to do are being held, looking around, and chewing on my shirt. (An honorable mention goes to pooping and then staring me down defiantly.)

Earlier this week, I had a huge wet spot on my shirt. This, my friends, was not caused by Kayla chewing on me, or even drooling on me. No, no. It was caused by her licking me. Over and over and over. She is adorable...but oh so very odd.

You know you can't have a blog and not tell your birthing story in excruciating detail

Thanksgiving morning, I woke up about 5:30 with some back pain that would last for a little while and then go away.  I thought, "Self, maybe these are contractions."  But I wasn't reallllly sure, being my first baby and all.  (Spoiler alert: they were.)

Around 9:30 I accepted that yes, these really are contractions, but maybe I could still make my family's Thanksgiving dinner!  Never mind the fact that the contractions were less than 10 minutes apart - they weren't THAT painful.  And surely, I wouldn't need to go to the hospital for just a little bit of pain!  I almost started making the apple pie I had signed up for, but luckily I have a husband who talks me out of my crazy.  

About an hour later I told Dustin that we were probably not going to make dinner after all.  And 30 minutes later I announced that we better actually pack our hospital bag and get there STAT, because these contractions were not messing around (less than 5 minutes apart, lasting at least a minute, and...ouch).

The entire car ride down there I fretted between worrying that (1) we had waited to long and it would be too late for my epidural and (2) the hospital would tell me it's false labor and to go home.

We got to the hospital around 11:30 and I was very relieved that I got to skip triage.  I got changed into my very flattering hospital gown, and waited.  When the nurse checked me I was dilated to a 6.  I breathed a sigh of relief that I wasn't being just a huge baby about the contractions and there really was something going on down there, and I asked for my epidural ASAP.

The good news about having a baby on a major holiday is that the labor & delivery unit was pretty empty, because who wants to be induced on Thanksgiving?  So the anesthesiologist was actually waiting outside the door for us to be ready for him.  I do love that service.

By the time the epidural kicked in I was an 8.5.  And let me say, more power to all you natural-birth ladies, but oh boy am I thankful for modern medicine!  Life was pretty good after that.

I napped for a bit and by 2:00 I was a 10, but my doctor had me wait another hour before pushing.  My doctor showed up at 3:05 and told me that most first-time moms push for 1-3 hours.

Hearing this, Dustin took the opportunity to use the bathroom, thinking that he was in it for the long haul.  As I pushed through the first contraction, the nurse started yelling at Dustin to get out of the bathroom because he was going to miss it.  Dustin ran out and at 3:16 PM, after the second contraction, our daughter was here.

My doctor marveled that she was going to make her Thanksgiving dinner at four.  What can I say?  I am a people pleaser.

Kayla Renae, thanks for not making us wait until your due date to get here.

For Cari

Today, I listened to the great Christmas classic, "All I Want For Christmas is You."  What?  It's only October 4?

I can't be blamed!  It came up while my iPod was on shuffle.  My iPod wanted me to listen to that song.  At work.  While dancing foolishly in my seat.

And then it wanted me to push the back button so I could listen to it again.

Told you.  Can't be blamed.

It's worse to know

"Oh snap we got a chunky one!"

So...has it really been almost a year?  Let's see.  I'm still living the glamorous life of a tax accountant.  We have now killed TWO plants, and are on to Javier #3.  We moved to a condo on the top floor, so I am now longer battling spiders on a daily basis (by which I clearly mean making my husband battle spiders for me).   I am heavy with child.  You know - the usual.

Oh, yes.  About that.  Baby Clouse is due on December 2.

I am now 28 weeks along, and I had my latest checkup yesterday.  My doctor told me that I am measuring two weeks ahead.

My thought?  "Victory!  I am having this baby early!"

My doctor burst my bubble though.  "Heather, not all babies are only seven pounds when they are born..."

So I will either be having this baby around Thanksgiving (please please please!) or I will be birthing a small giant.  I'm trying not to think about it - but I can't keep myself from referring to my baby girl as The Tank.

Happy Halloween

The top four reasons you should have gotten your teeth cleaned on Halloween by my dentist:

4. You'll get to hear Thriller and Monster Mash while you wait.

3. My hygienist dressed up as a cowgirl.

2. The office manager dressed up as a pirate, complete with nasty ol' teeth that she had made in a lab. Yes my friends, you heard right - professionally made fake teeth (complete with bits of lettuce stuck in them).

Still not convinced?

1. After declaring that I had no cavities, my dentist gave me peanut butter cup. Yes, he's awesome. And possibly conniving.

Switch to my dentist...and then tell him I referred you so he will send me a gift certificate to an ice cream shop.

Yes...he definitely is conniving.