And another for your enjoyment; the night my water broke, Mel snapped this pic so that later we could marvel at how stoned I look. I was; completely wasted on anticipation and adrenaline, and just so damn happy that the End was near. I’m so glad for this picture because it makes me remember that for a while there that night I forgot about the actual end and how it would come and I was just rolling with it, happy to have some semblance of a labor that came on its own. What you can’t see from the pic is that when we pulled up into their yard, there were birds singing in the trees at well past midnight. There was magic in the air and I half expected a chorus of Angels to serenade us on the way to Jacksonville.
And now for your pumping news: I feel like a heiffer. And I need to learn how NOT to stay up “just for a few minutes” after pumping at midnight- because whoops! Look what time it is already! Time to pump again! And wake someone up to finger feed the little Lazy Sucker. Ah, the hidden consequences of getting your baby early.
My optimism about all this surprises me; I can only credit the Percoset right now, which I caved in and swallowed at midnight tonight after a full day without. It was a hard day, with the choices being 1)take the drugs and fucntion or 2)go off the drugs and lay in bed wishing I had taken the drugs but proud as hell I wasn’t putting percoset in my breastmilk. And also? II’m going to run out, and ouch. When this candy wears off I am literally gasping and banging my head against the wall. And I would have thought I had a pretty high tolerance for pain given the last few months of my life which were one long pain party. What the hell?
NOw I’m faced with the happy task of calling the OB’s office tomorrow and begging the staff, who know my whole story and how I almost left the hospital in a huff while in labor last week because the OB was mean to me (Oh I didn’t tell you about that part? It’ll come. After my babymoon I’ll let my story loose on the Internet), for more narcotics. I’m not a junkie I swear. I’m just a mom trying to figure out how to bed at the waist and hug a two year old without screaming.