Well here it is, the beginning of what will surely be, one of my greatest works: A blog about Poop. These adventures are the reason I have gray hairs sprouting on my head, wrinkles on my forehead, and the ever extending laugh lines on my cheeks. These stories are the ones that I pass on to you, my readers. All my inspiration and experience comes from my 3 kids, Jade Marie (10), Eleanore Leigh (4) and my S.U.N, Wyatt Clyde (18 months).

I guarantee that I will use foul language in this blog, (who doesn't when we talk about the silly shit our kids do??) so if you're easily offended, you can put your finger on the screen and miraculously skip over my curse words. They're only verbs right?

These are the Poop Chronicles, for your laughing pleasure my friends and family...

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Wyatt's Birth Story

This post, unfortunately, is going into the NPR category (non poop related). There might be a little poo reference here or there, but it's definitely not in the same category as Ellie's poopscapades.

Saturday: September 10th

Mom and I got together that morning for a little coffee and some shopping. We were looking for fabric for tablecloths for Kira and Tyler's wedding in October. We hit up the Wallymart in the Big P (Poway) early in the morning before the crazies showed up. Then we had a healthy breakfast at her house. I had to go home by 10am because Tim was watching both the girls and he needed a bit o' a break. Later in the day, I met my Mom again, this time I had Jade and Ellie and we met Kira at the Party City in Escondido to check out stuff for the wedding. While we were there I started feeling pretty crampy. I had to take a little break and sit down while Kira and Jade went to look at the Tux's in the Men's Warehouse next door. Jade had planned a sleepover with my Mom, so she when we departed, it was just crank-pot Ellie and I going home.

Sunday September 11th

1am: I woke up feeling like shit. My insides were in an uproar since the day before. I thought maybe I over did it by walking around all day shopping, and then cleaning in between shopping trips (what was I thinking!?) I was in the bathroom most of the night thinking...why? Why won't my body just let me sleep? Must I really keep pooping (ahhhh! There it is! The poop reference!) every hour and a half tonight?! (Future moms to be - your body does this unholy thing before birth [that I somehow forgot about...pregnancy brain perhaps] of "cleaning " itself out so you don't shit yourself in the delivery bed. Be thankful. I was.) Anyways, moving on...bathroom again...and ohhh what is THAT??! Oh yes, THAT (gross) is a mucus plug and I'll just stop.right.there. You don't want to know anymore. Moving on...

3:45am: A contraction wakes me up. Not a crazy bad one like the leg cramps, but one hard enough for me to open one eye JUST as I've gone to sleep, and say "ooowwwwwww" outloud. Tim had a horrible night sleep too I'm sure, he must have heard me and asked how I was doing. Not great obviously, because 6 minutes later, I had another, and 6 minutes later, another...another...another...another. So now it's 4:30 in the morning...I'm lying in bed trying to sleep through the contractions. Finally, I said F*ck it out loud and got up to watch some T.V. There is absolutely NOTHING on at 4:30am. Nothing. There are over 700 channels to choose from and at 4:30am...NOTHING is interesting. What WAS interesting was my appetite. I wanted to FEEEEED like never before. I ate a half a box of Raisin Bran from 4:30am to 4:35am. And it was delicious. I don't think I even felt a contraction as I ate. I was just...starving. Meanwhile, I'm contracting...and breathing...and eating...and contracting some more...every 6-8 minutes for like, forevvvverrrrr.

6:00am: Tim got up, asked if I thought this was "IT" and I confirmed, yes, Jesus, this is fucking "IT!!" We're going to have a baby TODAY!!! Holy shit. Then I started panicking. I wasn't packed! Had nothing prepared. At least the house was clean I thought throughout the morning...packing only took a half hour. Then I'm facebooking and my friends are telling me to call the doctor. I'm not supposed to call the doctor until a) my water breaks or b) contractions are 5 minutes apart for 1 hour and lasting 1 minute or longer. My problem: No water breakage AND my contractions were no where NEAR 5 minutes apart AND they were only lasting about 20 to 30 seconds long...but they hurt like a bitch. So at 9:45am, I call the hospital and the midwife that is on call listens to my babbling and tells me very bubbly to come on in.

9:50am: I'm sitting in the car about to have a panic attack because we're actually going to have a baby today!
9:51am: Still freaking out that I'm going to have a baby T.O.D.A.Y.

10:55am: We check in to Labor and Delivery at Scripps Memorial Hospital in La Jolla

11:15am: I'm in the bed with a cute pink gown, signing my life away, not even looking at what I'm signing...it's all standard procedure. Everything is a bluuuurr after that really. Do you want to have this vaccine? Yes? Sign here...no? sign here... In case we mess up, you won't sue us...sign here... OK!!! Bring me drugs! Now!

11:20am: My super, awesome, sweet nurse Kara R. comes in and checks me..."Yep! You are ready! 100% effaced and 5 cm already" ... my jaw literally hit the floor. I could NOT believe that I labored that long at home. It was SUCH a good feeling!! AND my contractions were still bearable...barely. She wanted to know if I wanted the epidural right away or wait and I thought about it for maybe....ONE second. Bring me drugs. The anesthesiologist came in 2 minutes later, I was bawling and screaming my eyes out about 3 minutes later and about 5 minutes after THAT, I was in sweeeet heaven.

12:something o'clock-but-I-have-no-clue-because-by-this-time-I-am-feeling-soooo-good: they broke my water to help things along and told me that I'd probably deliver somewhere around 5pm.

2:something o'clock-still-feeling-groovy: I'm feeling a little pressure in my bum, so I ring for the nurse to let her know. She checks my cervix and is totally shocked...9cm!! She starts rushing around the room, trying to get things in order. I'm pretty sure they didn't expect me to progress this fast. She called for the midwife and 10 minutes later they're asking me to push.

3:54pm: After an hour and a half of hard pushing...I probably told (whined, actually) them 5 trillion times, "I'm don't feel like I'm doing anything here...is he here yet??" (Pushing felt like I was trying to take a big poop, but since my legs and ass were numb...all I felt like I was doing was holding my breath for 10 seconds at a time) I guess I did it right because little Wyatt Clyde Phipps made his joyous and LOUD debut at 3:54pm. He weighed 9lbs 2oz, was 21 inches long, and had the longest feet and fingers I'd ever seen on a baby. Tim and I were overjoyed. Wyatt was perfect. He was a little jaundice a day later, but we got to take him home on my birthday, the 13th. It was the best birthday present ever.

(Tim's account of the whole day was something along the lines of: we checked in, she cried, she laughed, she acted kind of crazy/funny, the nurse did something to her, she felt like she had to poop, she pushed, it smelled, the baby came out, he cried, he is awesome. the end.]


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