notes from the sleep-deprived

So it's possible now might not be the BEST time to be writing a post, but despite being bleary-eyed, I'm high on caffeine. It's a strange combination. What you'll find within this rambling is the very best job that 4 hours of sleep will get ya, so... you're welcome in advance! 

Lets see, where to start, where to start... ah yes, THE BIRTH. I'll keep it short and sweet. 

*!&$#*!!

That about sums it up. I am not one of these women that believes childbirth is a beautiful experience. With the exception of the 1 hour my epidural actually worked, I'd wager it's about the toughest thing I've ever had to do. I will mention it was a BIT easier this time around since I've been through the process once before. I had 2nd degree tearing as opposed to 3rd degree. I didn't have to push for as long (30 minutes) and I did a much better job with my breathing (could be because the doctor wasn't yelling at me, but that's a story for another time). As for the aforementioned epidural, I seem to have some type of strange resistance to the pain killer working when I really need it. 

At my first delivery, I had to have the epidural administered twice because it failed to work the first time. That was fun. Then when it came time to push, my doctor insisted on turning it down so I could feel the contractions. I've since taken a poll of friends with kids and no one has had that happen to them. In other words, I feel like I got the raw end of the deal. Literally.

This time, the epidural worked for the initial contractions, yet when it came down to crunch time, I was feeling every last one of them. Turns out I was 9 inches dilated by that point, but STILL. I wanted the drugs, dang it! Nurse's response to my plea for help: "let's use this pain" (to start pushing). And to think I'd thought she was such a nice woman up until that point.

*** Going to stop here. Mamas love to talk about their birth experiences, but even I realize this is dragging on... ***

Oh fine. Long story even longer? OF COURSE the end result was worth every bit of that pain. Baby Sister sleeps beside me as I write this, and it's hard to even concentrate because I just want to stare at her and listen to her cute little breathing. Another sign of a new mama? One who thinks her child's breathing is cute. Good grief.

Moving on...

The best advice I received with my first child was "sleep when the baby sleeps." SUCH great advice. If only I used it. There are just too many other things I could be doing while she snoozes away... showering, for example. Writing thank you notes. Watching The Rosie Show (she's back!!). Making lists of things I should be doing yet don't have the energy to accomplish. Sleeping seems like a wonderful thing that's also complete waste of time. I basically realize how ridiculous this is, yet here I am typing away...

We've been pleasantly surprised how Toddler S has reacted to Baby Sister. First it was almost complete indifference, which was fine with us as it seemed better than trying to smother her with a blankie. As the days went by, however, she has become much more aware of the little munchkin... alerting us when she's crying ("Baby crying! Baby crying!"), tickling her toes, bringing her stuffed animals, and even holding her a few times (always the same response: "She's heavy.") Honestly, it's such a joy seeing them together, and I can hardly wait to watch their relationship grow as the years go by (fighting over clothes and boys excluded).

Since I know this time at home has an end date, I'm trying to soak up and enjoy every minute I have with the little ones. If only I could bottle up every perfect moment and save it for a day in the future when I'm back to sitting behind a desk again.

Misty-eyed. I think I'll end now and perhaps... get some sleep?