♥ I wrote all this in Word while in the hospital. I still can’t get over the fact that there was no internet there, but I thought about you all anyway! And I can’t even believe the virtual shower that was hosted for me while I was gone. I was in tears when I saw all the comments of good luck! THANK YOU! I promise I will be around to visit each and every one of you in the coming days! I am so very grateful!! ♥

Welcome to the world Baby Hudson!!

Seriously, what kinda brand spankin’ new hospital doesn’t have WiFi? This hospital was built only six months ago and you’d think that would be a prerequisite for a new hospital in this day and age.

But I digress. I shall use Word instead.

May 28, 10:30am I arrived at the hospital for my induction: exactly 41 weeks pregnant. Worried that I would have the gel and be sent home to wait it out for six hours I was pleasantly surprised that the doctor on-call decided to just break my water instead even though I was “definitely not in labour and only 1cm dilated – what was because (I’ve) had a previous pregnancy”.

Nothing like making a woman feel a little completely inadequate at delivering a child. Though I was a little disheartened by my first impression, this doctor – who was the doctor on-call – he was awesome, fantastic and wonderful all in one. LOVE!

After about four and a half hours of walking, shootin’ the shit with Mike and waiting it out in triage, I was bumped up to a Labour and Delivery room just as the contractions began. By five o’clock I was experiencing, what felt to me like, heavy contractions I was checked and only sitting at about 3cm. One –and-a-half centimeters of dilation; that’s it: Mike was still adamant that his guess of 11pm would hold true. I thought for sure this pregnancy was going to end in a C-Section.

Since I was contracting nicely and baby was doing well, I was given my epidural by a kind and wonderful nurse who felt there was no reason for me to wait it out any longer. God, love her. Epidural kicked in as did the pressure; and assuming that I was moving along, the pitocin was delayed to see how well I progressed on my own. No significant changes over the next two hours resulted in a pitocin drip and as ten o’clock pm rolled around I was feeling considerable amounts of pressure when my nurse decided to check me.
Mike was sure I was about 6cm and I bet that I hadn’t progressed past four.

I was right.

Sitting at 3cm during a contraction, and roughly 5cm during the “down time” there really was no change at all. I was disheartened, worried and succumbed to believing that this labour would undoubtedly end with my being cut open. By doctor’s orders, the pitocin was increased and after phone calls, to up-date family on my lack of progress, Mike and I bedded down for what we thought was going to be a very long night.

Before leaving to check another patient, my nurse stated that sometimes with second babies, women will sit at 2cm or 3cm for a long time and then everything can happen in a blink of an eye.

I was sure I wasn’t one of those women.

I was wrong.

By 10:30pm I was experiencing incredible urges to push and sent Mike for my nurse. I knew he was going to think I was some kinda basket case who was going to make her night really long, but after checked me, I was sitting at 9cm+ just waiting for the lip of my cervix to disappear; and I thought labour was hard before – that was until I experienced the urge to push and not being allowed to at all.

I had to wait for the lip of my cervix, then the doctor to come, the stirrups to be put into place and every one to be ready at their stations all the while trying my very hardest NOT to push and begging them to hurry the hell up. Yeah, they loved me.

After just shy of eight hours of labour and four pushes, weighing in at 8lbs 15oz, Hudson arrived to greet the world.

Time of birth: 10:57pm. Mike’s guesstimate was right on.

Mine was, thankfully, FAR off.

No C-section and only a one degree tear. I was up to pee just over 2 hours after birth and showered (all by myself!!) at about 10 hours after.

Not bad, not bad at all for a chick that didn’t even leave the bed for the first 24 hours after her first child.

Day 3: Today’s been a little rough – well, this evening. Breastfeeding on Day 3 is by FAR the worst day. The day that milk comes in and baby is completely restless as well as having a growth spurt there’s not enough to go around and every one is in tears. This day, when I had Carter, I remember like it was yesterday. Sitting on the couch at 4am bawling because neither Carter or I could carry on. He was starving, I was in pain and shit had just about hit the fan.

This time around, we’re supplementing. It only started because Hudson was getting pretty dehydrated from not eating for the first 16 hours of his life. His lungs were still filled with mucous from his rather quick arrival and he had no urges to even attempt to eat. Therefore supplementation was required if I wanted to leave the hospital at a normal time – which I very much did. Not that I have anything to justify, I’m just blabbering now.

So, we’re here. Everyone’s excited and Carter is absolutely the BEST big brother a little kid could ask for. All he talks about is “Baby Hudson” and how he wants to do everything for “Baby Hudson”. God, I love that kid. Both my kids.

A mom to two boys and I could not be happier.

6 days overdue and I wake up to contractions this morning. Feeling like this is definitely it, I call Mike to come back home – at 5:45am, just after he got onto the highway to go to work. Contractions about 7 minutes apart and feeling “good”.

11am everything screeches to a halt.

Mike is out a day of work and I am pissed.

My induction is scheduled for tomorrow.

This baby will be hung upside down and get it’s ass smacked as soon as it’s out.

Without actually ranting again, I just wanted you to know that I’m still here – and still pregnant.

And

Could Jay Mohr have really quit his day job to be this guy?

I’m just sayin’

Long walk – check; I walked about 3.3km (2 miles) on Friday. Nothing.

Hot food Рcheck; two nights in a row I had jalape̱o peppers AND banana peppers on my meals. Nothing.

Stretched my cervix (done by my doctor of course) – check; NOTHING.

Sex – check; don’t even get me started on that fiasco. Nothing.

Pedicures with foot massage – check; two in the past month. Nothing.

Nipple stimulation – check; Ugh. NOT my idea of fun. Nothing.

Manual labour – check; pulled weeds, cleaned the car, washed the driveway. Nothing.

Raspberry Leaf Tea – drinking it now. Nothing so far.

I’ve even ran after my defiant toddler who insisted on running away from me and was heading towards the road. Nothing came of that expect time out for him and pee soaked pants for me (this was about a week or so ago so no, it wasn’t my water breaking.)

Short of jumping jacks and cutting myself open to get this child out, I’ve tried just about everything.

Four days overdue and I am a raging bitch.

Just ask Mike. He’s slept the past two nights on the couch just to give me space because apparently I need the entire bed since my side isn’t big enough.

Tomorrow I have a doctor’s appointment again and I just may cry and guilt her into an induction. If I hit my Week 41 day (on Wednesday) I can’t be held accountable for what I may do.

I thought I would give you an update but unfortunately it’s not the one I wanted to share.

I’m still fucking pregnant.

No twinges, no changes – everything is the same.

I had a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday and she didn’t seem too optimistic that anything was going to happen very soon. Still only 1cm but things have softened a little. Thanks. Thanks. A Lot. While there she even had me schedule next week’s appointment. My 41st week appointment. I can’t tell you how much that sucked. Cuz it really sucked.

I am now at the point where I am being mocked by my blog – fuck you baby astrology baby, you’re now counting down the 2 weeks I have left until the baby HAS to come out? Bitch. And, just for the record, I don’t think you’re even floating around like that anymore. Know how I know? Because my stomach is hard as a friggin’ rock and every time you move a millimetre I can feel it. Even Facebook’s getting it’s cracks in with that stupid baby ticker.

Thanks for the reminder Facebook. You’re a real fuckin’ gem.

I’m going to birth a sumo wrestler by the time the kid gets it’s shit together and vacates my uterus.

Fuck sumo wrestlers.

I really don’t think I would be as upset about going over my due date had I not already had an entire month off work. I am BORED, restless and extremely impatient. JUST GET THE HELL OUT ALREADY!

Yesterday Carter and I had a Cocktail Playdate. Yeah, that’s right. He played with his friend while I enjoyed a glass of wine with mine. I was tempted to grab the bottle straight from her hand and guzzle the entire thing down, but I should restraint and just sipped the one glass I had. I can’t tell you how hard it was not to pound that shit back and slam my glass down on the table. “They” say that a glass of wine can help things along but it really did nothing for me but increase my NEED for this child to vacate so I can drink more.

I’ve been contemplating sneaking a 6-pack into my hospital room.

Don’t judge me or I will be forced to punch you in your lady bits.

Due date is now one day away. I am anxiously awaiting baby – long side just about everyone else I know. Thanks for the calls. Yes, I know you’re just checking up. Yes, I know you can’t wait to meet the baby. Oh, and of course, you’ll be the first to know.

Now get the fuck off my back you bunch of monkeys.

*ahem*

I feel better getting that out. No, no, it wasn’t directed at YOU. Your calls don’t bother me. I love to hear from you too.

Aside from squeezing a watermelon out a hole the size of a lemon (and the recuperating) , the worst part about having a baby is the daily phone calls:

Where is baby?

Have that baby yet?

Thought this was the weekend?

Still pregnant huh?

Yes, yes, yes! There is STILL a baby in there and YES I thought this was the weekend too. And OH MY GOD, Captain Obvious, THERE IS STILL A BABY IN THERE!

Yet, I remain cordial and polite while in my mind I think of terrible and harmful things I could do to the questioning loved ones.

A hint: A 10 MONTH PREGNANT LADY DOES NOT WANT TO BE CALLED TO SEE IF THERE IS A BABY YET. SHE WILL CALL YOU. YOU WILL FIND OUT. EVENTUALLY YOU WILL FIND OUT!

Now that I’ve frightened off just about everyone I know and who would ask how I’m doing, I’ll tell you.

I’ve had mild contractions on and off all weekend accompanied by nausea and some vomiting. I’ve had headaches, backaches and pain ol’ moodiness. I’ve napped a lot too. I’ve even cried a little.

Carter was right on time. I didn’t really expect anything different this time around, though a girl can’t help but hope that it would be sooner then later. When tomorrow passes and there is no baby yet, I suspect that I will be more miserable/cranky/pouty then I am right now.

Oh, and yes. I also know that it can’t stay in there forever. I tell myself that every. damn. day.

I can’t tell you how jealous I am that these ladies have popped out their bundles already!

♥ I’m really not that angry as I may sound. Just aggravated and so ready to meet this baby! ♥

At 1:00pm today, 27 years ago, I was born.  Three years until I am 30.  I can’t even believe how fast it feels like time has passed. It seems like just yesterday I was starting grade 10 and falling for my first true love, when in actuality – that happened 12 years ago! 12. Wow.

Now, at 27, what would I tell my former high school self?

Don’t let others dictate your future. Don’t listen to the guidance councilor who tells you that you’re not university material and should consider college since it’s more hands on. Decide that for yourself. (But still go to college because that’s where you will meet your future husband *wink*)

Try harder at sports and don’t just drag ass and do it because it’s something to do. There IS talent there, otherwise you wouldn’t have won all those awards. Don’t stop, keep up with it and join teams throughout college and afterwards. You WILL regret it otherwise.

Don’t go for the older guy. As enticing as he may seem, he’s playing you. He may be the most wonderful, kind and compassionate guy you’ve ever met. But he has a girlfriend and you’re just the toy on the side. Unless you’re willing to step up and call some shots, don’t be “the other girl”: it’s far too painful and will leave you spending many a nights crying yourself to sleep with years and years of contemplating “if things had been different….”. And even though you don’t know it now – but will when you KNOW you’re in love – he will be your first true love and telling him 5 years later will not change anything. NOT WORTH IT.

Your biology teacher is just that. Your teacher. Yes, he may be good looking, only ten years older then you and easy to flirt with, but DON’T. Sure it’s harmless, but it’s wrong. Even when he asks you to go to his house and taking care of his cats while he’s on vacation. Your step-father is a teacher at the same school and when you tell him that you need the car to go to said teacher’s house: it may not be a good thing.

Be a little more careful when drinking. Situations will arise that you’d be better at handling if you weren’t intoxicated. Boys do take advantage of young girls that are really drunk and they DO try and gat away with things they normally would not. And on that note: grade 10 Halloween Dance? Do NOT finish that mickey of Peach Schnapps before bouncing around the dance floor. People WILL remember “the time that you barfed under the bleachers” at said dance. Oh, and don’t call your mother from a friend’s house when you’re COMPLETELY hammered (at 15 years old) and ask to sleep over. She’s not an idiot. She knows you’re drunk. Same goes for your 16th birthday when you pass out on a hay wagon on a friend’s farm and cut the shit outta your face. Telling mom that you fell on a gravel driveway while playing basketball may seem like a good idea, but I think she knows the truth (even though to this day she has not said anything).

Drugs are fun – but BAD. Don’t smoke that joint hanging out your bedroom window before dinner. Just because you can’t smell it doesn’t mean others don’t. Staying awake all night fried on ‘Shrooms is NOT good for your health – mentally or physically. And DO NOT listen to Marylin Manson while on acid. Bad. Bad. Bad. In fact, maybe don’t even experiment at all.

Cheating doesn’t teach you anything. Just because your teachers may be too lazy to change up their tests once and a while doesn’t make it right to memorize an old test. You will not learn anything that way. Caring this on to college is a bad idea as well. Just because you would have failed that college final without knowing all the answers doesn’t make it right. Maybe you SHOULD have failed.

Your mother does know what she’s talking about. You should give her a little more credit. She’s not out to “ruin your life” or control it. She wants what’s best for you and lying and sneaking around is not that. She does know. She will find you and you WILL regret it. Don’t tell her you’re going for a walk just as your friend pulls up in the driveway. Don’t make that call to her while you’re drinking, and for Godsakes – find a better hiding spot for your illegal activities or don’t bring them in the house AT ALL! There is a lesson to be learned. She will reach the end of her rope, you will be kicked out (but forget the fact that she BEGS you to come home) and she will not forget.

Don’t tell that older boy’s girlfriend’s best friend ANYTHING. If you didn’t listen to the above advice to stay away from that older boy, the you better listen to this… even when the girlfriend’s best friend traps you in the bathroom at school and asks you outright if there is something going on between you and said boy – DENY. Take it up with him, don’t leave him in the dark while his girlfriend devises plans to get you BOTH back. He at least deserves to know that he will be served his nuts on a silver patter in a short time.

Your brother is your best defender. Don’t take him for granted. Boys are boys and “say” they will be there for you, but they’re not. Your brother? Always.

Don’t date the gas attendant. Sure it may have been set up and you kinda got thrown into it, but stand your ground and don’t date the guy.  Nothing good will come of it. You cannot help this person and he will become abusive – just like his father. He will lie, cheat and steal from you and in the end use you. He’s dead to you. MOVE ON. Don’t even glance in his general direction.

Some people are good friends and some are not. SOME bullies from your elementary school days can change and become wonderful friends. Others? Just don’t waste your time trying to forgive them; they’re still not worth it. Some GREAT friends that you have will not last. Let them go. Sometimes you just can’t stop yourselves from growing apart, and some you SHOULD grow apart from.

Your 16th birthday would have been better had you remembered some of it!

What would you tell your former high school self if you had the chance?

Yes, yes I know I have been nothing but talk about baby. That’s because I want this child EVICTED. NOW. Surprisingly, I am rather comfortable at the moment. The crotch fire pains have subsided and I can now tell that the baby has dropped because I CAN BREATHE AGAIN! I have energy again too – so it ain’t all that bad.

I just wanna meet this baby already! Plus I have everything nearly completed for its arrival (except for a Moby wrap *sigh*) that it’s getting kinda boring around here. Boring enough to make me wanna shop and that’s just trouble. (speaking of trouble, just as I was writing this, I bought a new Ju-Ju-Be* BeAll diaper bag. Damn online shopping. Maybe it will come right as I’m in labour and Mike won’t fight me. Wishful thinking: he’s gonna be so mad. LOL)

Carter’s got the shopping bug too. I think its genetic. Since he’s been home from daycare (all of three days) he asks to go shopping. I ask what he’d like to do today and his immediate response is “SHOPPING!” – the kid will travel from store to store, sit in cart after cart and back and forth from the car if it means he gets to go SHOPPING! Gawd, I love that child.

Tuesday consisted of us going to WalMart for the last minute items for my hospital bag (nipple cream, pads, new pajamas: the necessities) and Carter insisted that he NEEDED a new car for his unending collection of vehicles from the movie CARS.

The kid has 12 of the numerous different styles and models of each character yet NEEDS a new one. The NEED is so strong its the END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT if there is not a new car to add to the collection. So strong that I WILL. NOT. hear the end of it if we leave the store without one.

[Who the HELL spoiled this child so bad? *looking around*]

Yet still I manage to leave (sometimes) then disarm him by bringing out Thomas the Train from my purse.

[Gotta love the fact that children have the attention span of a fly.]

What am I going to do for an entire year with this shopping accomplice at home? How am I going to be able to fend off the want to shop when I have a little voice in my ear suggesting INSISTING to go SHOPPING!!!!11!? (because it’s never requested quietly, it’s always in a screeching tone that I swear only dogs can hear at the highest decibels.)