It’s been almost a full week since our little man entered the world via my third c-section.
For the first several hours of his life, little Avery was nameless while we continued to weigh out our two final names, Avery and Brody (Didn’t I call this, you guys?).
A nameless baby blew the mind of just about everyone we came in contact with, including the baby nurse who joked with us, “I’m off duty at 7. Before I leave … I want to know this baby’s name.” The nurse wasn’t alone. Our parents, our friends… we ourselves wanted to officially call this baby by something other than his in utero alias, “Blueberry”. But for us, it didn’t come as easy as just looking at him. We wrote the names out, we call him by them. And about 12 hours later, we finally decided he was Avery Alexander- which has been my #1 boys name since I was 12 and Murphy Brown was making headlines with her then “Scandalous” baby out of wedlock story line.
Yes. I said Murphy Brown. I would watch it in the wee hours of the night as a tween… because clearly, I was very cool.
At less than a week old, Avery has us all wrapped around his little tiny baby finger– especially his brother and sister who cannot get enough of him and are in a bit of an unspoken competition to see who will get to hold him standing up first.
–Spoiler alert-there will not be a winner of this competition, but it’s cute!
The first night home little Avery played the role of night owl, but since then he has been preforming newborn magic tricks and sleeping 6 hour stretches – Please dear God, let the magic last!
C-Section 3- Recovering With Staples.
I thought I would share this part as it was a much different -slightly scary- experience for me that has had me googling and blog crawling other Mom’s stories like a crazy. If birth stories aren’t your thing- feel free to skip ahead to the cuteness.
Going in for a planned cesarean is much different experience than going in for an emergency one. I’ve experienced both before this time, and for the most part I kept calm and was comfortable in knowing what to expect. At one of my last appointments my doctor and I discussed doing a tubal. He told me that last time I had some scar tissue from my 1st section, so depending on how bad that was… he would do the tubal. Well… about oh, 5 minutes into the surgery my very off the cuff OB called over the curtain to me …
“Corine, you have a SHIT-TON of scar tissue”– to which my husband looked me straight in the eye and said without skipping a beat- “… that’s a medical term”. ha
Apparently, my uterus had attached itself to my abdominal wall, which made it a little difficult for the doctor to get to the baby, but after 12-15 minutes we heard a little cat like cry and the doctor announced …
“It’s a boy!”
Besides the obvious emotional element to hearing those words, and his little cry, almost immediately I felt this relief of pressure in my ribcage…. and then seconds later, it was no longer a relief as I felt like my lungs were collapsing and I could no longer breathe.
I panicked and called to the anesthesiologist who assured me it was my nerves and I was ok. “No, its not ok! IT’S NOT OK!!”- I was sure I was dying…. “I want to see my baby” I demanded… and then I passed out.
James was with the baby and the baby nurses during this episode and I woke up to the nurse holding my hand, mask over her face and a look of complete panic in here eyes as she stared down at me.
“Am I ok? What happened? Why do you look scared?”, I asked her.
“You tell me, are you feeling ok? How is your breathing? What are you feeling?”, she asked back. “Um, I can breathe a little better. Where is the baby?”
They brought the baby out to me, and I was too overwhelmed with happiness to focus on the craziness I had just experienced. When they took the baby to the nursery, the man behind the curtain continued to keep me in the loop on what was going – ” I’m just putting your 6 pack back together, Corine. You sure know how to keep things interesting.”
Because of my pass-out, for the first time ever I was awake while they “put me back together”, so to speak.. and let me tell you… it felt like for-ev-er.
The scar tissue gave the doctor and his team a run for their money so the tubal wasn’t possible and I was told in no uncertain terms that I should not carry another baby for my own safety. Because of all of the internal work, they used staples instead of the dissolvable stitches on the outside because staples are easier to drain… in case of infection (shuttering as I type it).
Though I am not “in the clear yet”, for the most part the recovery has been fine. By fine, I mean that besides crazy post-op leg swelling that is driving me nuts (Thank you very much, extra antibotics and iv fluids), it hasn’t been any more painful than my dissolvable stitches I had the last two times, though I still have not been brave enough to actually look at the incision- which by the way, makes my shower routine quite comical as I try to avoid all mirrors in the bathroom.
Speaking of bathroom… you see this deliciousness right here? Are you drooling?
Who needs hot toddy’s when you can sip on this a c-section cocktail my nurse whipped up for me in the hospital- warm prune juice and apple juice. Having a baby is SEXY, you guys.
Anywho.. the staples are being removed next Monday, and even though my doctor has assured its painless… it FREAKS. ME. OUT…. as does the thought of an infection, because I’ve been down that long road before when I had Ryan. So I am taking it extra easy and looking forward to just being back to normal.
Helping Hands
I have been extremely, extremely fortunate in having tons of helping hands during this recovery.
Our parents ran out and bought little Avery a plethora of adorable boy clothes so he didn’t have to wear white and tan every day.
James is on paternity leave and is a total natural with newborns, as well as juggling the day to day with the kids that I typically take care of.
|How cute are these Daddy Scrubs?|
I sometimes feel like I am a fourth child for him as I ask him to pick up things that I’m constantly dropping, etc… but watching him handle it all without ever a complaint makes me love this man more than I ever thought possible.
Also, back in the summer my sister told me that while she took a year off from school to decide what she wanted to do, she wanted to come stay with us to help with the baby. And I have to be honest, until the baby got here, I don’t think we ever realized just how much of a help this would be.
Every morning she wakes up and steals Avery to snuggle. She feeds the baby when we’re busy with the kids, she bathes the kids when we’re busy with baby. Though when she first got here, she couldn’t make Macaroni and Cheese, while I was in the hospital she proudly whipped up chicken cutlets for Ryan and Laina. I am just constantly amazed by her. I can’t say at 18, I was mature enough to do all she does. We are forever- and- ever indebted to her selflessness and love.
So while it may be a bit quiet here on the blog while we try to get acclimated to a new routine of sorts, I’ll for sure be micro-blogging from my social channels – so keep in touch on Instagram, Twitter or Facebook & I promise to try and not inundate your stream with too much ovary-bursting-pictures of baby adorableness.
I said I’d TRY.
xo
Corine
