Baby #2, another labor story.

Well, I have been away from my computer for a few weeks because things have been quite hectic. Wednesday the 19th, I finally gave birth to my beautiful daughter. Here is my labor story.

January 18th 11:56p.m.- wake up feeling incredibly ill, think it may be caused by the Trader Joes frozen enchiladas that were a bit too spicy but all the same delicious. Watch Ashton Kutcher on Jay Leno, realize his conversations are all about how famous he is and the famous people he surrounds himself with.

January 19th 12:56am- Attempting to go to the bathroom after an hour, seriously constipated. Somewhat distracted by Jimmy Fallon.

January 19th 1:45a.m.-Have serious diarrhea after drinking a coke in an attempt to rid myself of constipation. Carson Daley is not making me feel any better. Try to fall asleep sitting up on the couch, making me feel only slightly less nauseous.

7:35am- Still have diarrhea, barely slept more than 10 minutes. My son comes in the room and we watch the Sprout channel. My father (who is staying with me) tries to get me to eat, not going to happen.

8:35a.m.- My mother stops by before work, checking up on me. After a long discussion about the way I am feeling, she says she will go to work late.

9:45am- It is pretty clear that I am in labor and my mother drives me to the hospital. Luckily I had swiftly packed my bag that morning.

10:19am- Arrive at the hospital, get wheeled up stairs to a room. They ask me the general information questions about myself and check my dilation; 4cm. Not bad.

11:36am- They take me to the labor room, check my stats, ask a few more questions. The nurse ask me what my level of pain is, 10 being getting your head cut off. I respond with a 4. As I cannot imagine the pain that would come with losing your head. Although it hurts like a bitch, I am able to breathe through the contractions causing them to hurt less. With my first child, I felt like I was going to die.

1:15pm- It’s epidural time! The anesthesiologist gives me three doses, I am confused, she claims it is because I am tall. Odd. I’m also 178 pounds pregnant, so I don’t think I am exactly a horse to bring down, but the drug makes me think it was a great idea.

4:36pm=mostly a haze still. Watching HGTV with my mother. Feeling serene. Wondering how much an epidural would cost on the street.

5:59pm- Have a little pitosin

6:46pm- already time to push, let’s do this. The doctor asks me how many times I pushed with my son, three. He tells me to see if I can beat that. I do, she comes out after 2. 

6:51pm-My beautiful baby girl is born, she is of course, perfect.

Holding your baby is one of those experiences that you can’t describe. It is far too emotional to summon up the right words. Although it is a lot of work, I understand why people choose to go through the experience 5 times or so. Children are wonderful and giving birth is awesome. I feel terrible for women who are unable to have their own. More about my hospital experience to come.

Why it pisses me off that I changed my last name.

When I was younger, dumb and in love I was convinced that I wanted to marry the man of my dreams, the love of my life. Well that was almost four years ago, and now we are getting a divorce. Today, I couldn’t tell you why I was willing to marry such a man. Even looking back, I realized that were never a good fit and he just brought me down.

This is a new year, and I am starting a new life. I have my amazing 16 month old son, who brings joy to every second of every day. I am expecting a new baby girl any day now. I have a job that I enjoy. I also have a second job writing, something that I have always had a passion for but let fall by the waist side in the last few years. After separating from my ex last year, I even wrote two songs with my father and went in the studio to record them. It really has been an interesting few months.

When your husband cheats on you, treats you like crap and then blames you for wanting a divorce, it can be a struggle. At this point, I have no idea why I ever fell in love with the guy, either I was crazy or he has gone crazy. It took me 2 and a half years to legally change my name after we got married. I just didn’t feel the need to go by his name, but after having a child I decided it was worth it to have the same last name as my son. However, I cringe that I use the name now. It is an ugly last name, which wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t that it belonged to a man who I nearly hate.

Now for the really bizarre part. The girl who my husband cheated on me with, and is now in a relationship with, shares my first name. How sick is that? if they get married and she takes his name, we will have the same name. Furthermore, since I am trying to make my way through the journalism world, I would hate for that awful human being to be associated with my good name.

So should I just suck it up and just accept that it really is just a name? If I had my way, I would move away with my children and never see the man, I once foolishly loved, anyway. If it wasn’t for internet search engines I would be able to escape my ex and his girlfriend forever, but alas, this is the information age. I guess I am just stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Deadbeat dad; a rising epidemic.

Often I wonder if the idea of a deadbeat father is ingrained in us. When I was a little girl, I used to play house like all little girls. I would have three dolls that were my children, and a complete home that was created at scale for my bedroom. I was also a career woman in my version of pretend, and when my mother would ask me where my pretend husband was, I would respond “I don’t even know where he went, I’m a single mother.” This is kind of an odd response from a little girl who had parents that were still married at the time. Of course, children do sense things, and I was pretty well aware of the unhappiness that my mother felt in her marriage. So as a child, I must have assumed at an early age that women were expected to do everything, raise the children and bring home the bacon, all on their own.

My parents did get a divorce, and I didn’t really see my father all that much after the age of 10. My mother worked three jobs at one time in order to make ends meet for the two of us and my older brother. For a long time, I didn’t even realize it was so hard for her because I never really went wanting. In all fairness, my brother and I were never materialistic kids, but that was just another good thing that we learned from our mother. It was a loving household and my mother did everything she could as a single mother to make us happy. When my mother, brother and I moved to a new town, when I was 10 to be closer to my mother’s parents, my dad insisted that my mom would fail and we would be on welfare. That never happened. My dad didn’t realize how strong and intelligent my mother really is. Every expense including two sets of braces, were all managed solely by my mother. My dad sent an occassional check for a minor amount of money, but never paid the child support he was court ordered to. After all of that, my brother and I grew up and both were able to attend college, he went to a state school and I went to a private university. All because of that strong single mother.

Cut to years later, and now I have really become a single mother. My husband and I have been separated since July but the divorce papers cannot be finalized until I give birth to our daughter this month. Not surprisingly, he became a deadbeat dad. I have to work my ass off  with a day time job as a leasing agent and a nighttime job as a writer. I have to be super thrifty about everything and I do not get a single penny from him. He promised me he would pay for all the diapers; he’s bought one box in 6 months. He promised me he would pay for the health insurance for me and my son; he never paid a single premium or doctors visit. Now that I found out that he has screwed himself financially and has no prospects of employment, I don’t expect another cent from the man. Worse than the money issue, is the lack of interest he has in his son. He didn’t call on Thanksgiving, Christmas or New Years. He hasn’t seen him in 5 weeks. Since my son is nearly 16 months old, he learns something new every day. It truly is amazing to see how wonderful and brilliant he is, and his loser father doesn’t even care.

So it’s a shame to see the deadbeat fathers, and for the record, my ex’s father was a terrible father too. There is a silver lining to all of this. My father is now retired and has been cleaning up his act. When he found out that my husband and I were having problems and planned to divorce, he moved in with me to help me financially and become a full-time babysitter. My son loves his grandpa and has a great time. It is a wonderful thing when a deadbeat dad can rise to the occasion and actually become a good father.