Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Alone...Sort of
Anyhow, all is peaceful and quiet when two out of three Davis children are dozing. It's the waking hours that can be a bit tricky. It's tough to remember that this is a big adjustment time for everyone. It's especially difficult to remember when Thatcher decides to pee-pee in the mesh trash can or when he breaks every single Christmas ornament he has received this year.
That was written on 30 December 2009, and I obviously never got around to finishing that thought. That is probably the last time I was "alone...sort of" as the title implies. I figured I'd go ahead and hit the "publish" button, though. I had just about forgotten that Thatcher broke all of those ornaments and went through a week-long "pee in the trash can" bender.
This otherwise unfinished draft of a blog post serves as a good reminder that this, too, shall pass; that the moment's crisis will be long forgotten minutes, hours, days, and certainly weeks later. Or, more aptly put, I won't remember the crisis because three children are rapidly depleting my once abundant supply of memory.
Monday, December 21, 2009
All Hail King Rocky
Harrison's arrival into the world was amazingly pleasant, especially compared to that of his brother and sister! My dad and Chad drove me to the hospital at 5AM Monday morning while my mom stayed home to keep Thatcher and Hadley. I had made the critical error of telling dad that my doctor is British, so I spent the next few hours fearing he would try to break out his AWFUL impersonation of an English accent. I checked in at 6AM, got loaded up with the IV, listened to the ipod, and joked with the med student who was taking my medical history (Med Student: "Have you used any recreational drugs during your pregnancy?" Danielle: "No, but I'm really looking forward to it once the baby comes."). They wheeled me into the OR at 7:45 with a "cut time" of 8AM. Thanks to the completely painless spinal block, I didn't feel a single tug, pull, or anything at all. Then, at 8:30, I heard him! He cried...loudly...and, unlike Hadley, he didn't stop. It was a beautiful sound, especially to anyone who has ever had a baby who did not come out crying.
It was through this haze of joy that I heard the doctor say, "Wow, he's a big boy;" but I was certain it was the drugs talking when I thought I heard someone say, "Nine pounds, nine ounces." After all, his 37-week ultrasound indicated he was weighing 7 lbs. 2 oz. To put it mildly, they were a little off on that one.
In another first, I was able to hold Harrison in the delivery room. I had barely seen Thatcher and (certainly) Hadley before they were whisked away, but they let Harrison linger. We took pictures, we talked, we discussed health care reform. It was great. I was also able to nurse him in the recovery room about an hour after he was born, which was another huge answer to prayer.
I like to call this, "Blue Light Special."