No one said it would be easy

In my perfect scenario, I would deliver at 40 weeks and without drugs. And even though, I said I was having a baby, not an experience, I thought in my heart of hearts, I wouldnt be one of those women rushed off for a C-section. My mom delivered six of us, my sister had three children....I would be no different.

But Miles had other ideas. When he was ready to see the world, he was still sitting pretty with his little butt in my pelvis - translation, breech. If he waited another 7-8 weeks, chances are he would've turned around but as we all know by now, it didn't work out that way, and the easiest way to get him out was to cut open my abdomen.

I knew the stories. Recovery is worse that you think. Take the drugs. Don't try to be too tough. Throw in pumping every three hours, even during the night and exhaustion creeps up quickly. I can only be somewhat, guiltily thankful that I am not waking up to a crying baby.

Today, it seemed to come slamming home. We had the usual morning before heading to the hospital to visit Miles. The doctor called around 10 am ....causing undo anxiety (why do they need to call unless its bad news!).....just to let us know how well he was doing. Again his feedings had been increased and were continuing to be increased now at 8 hour intervals. He was still a bit jaundiced so would be under the light a couple more days and every once in awhile, as expected, he had an apnea (forgets to breath - his neurological skills are not fully developed). Net net...he is doing great.

Our visit was wonderful....I held him for 30 minutes and as usual, he opened his tiny eyes and gripped onto my pinkie with his entire hand. We have also become experts at taking his temperature and changing his diapers. And in case anyone would question it, boys like to grab themselves from the very get go. The second his diaper his off, Miles' hand goes right to his little penis and it become a battle to move it when I cover it up.

It was fitting that while I was pumping yet even more milk, Dave ran into my doctor. While he raved that I was up and about, she warned him that I better take it easy. I just had major surgery. By the time, we left the hospital 30 minutes later, Dave commented on the bags under my eyes and had to get the car for me as I was too exhausted to walk even a block. He even ran the errands for me while I sat in the car, including my request to buy nipple cream.

Point taken, I am taking it even easier. Dave is being a champ, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, serving my every need and all with love and concern. And with my hormones raging, it brings me to tears to think how lucky I am. For him and Miles. And yes, Baker too, who I am sad to say, does not have much of chance next to Miles.