A Two Chapter Pregnancy Event ... Grateful

People have told me they are anxious to hear the "details" of my recent delivery.  Two words, deserving two chapters.  I have waited two weeks hoping that I would make peace with the two emotions finding some middle ground.  I'm still overrwhelmingly grateful, can't change that one, but still remarkably ticked off (step down from mad as hell leading one to fantasize about passive agressive actions ruining the life of the individual(s) who created the ticked off in the first place).  Grateful measures much higher on the scale right now ... so I will begin with chapter one, grateful.

Grateful.  As I stare into the face of this beautiful, perfect little boy I am overwhelmingly grateful.  I'm grateful I didn't take the "this pregnancy could kill you" abortion option given to me at 5 weeks into the pregnancy.  I'm grateful the pieces fell into place affording me the best team of doctors and specialists in Colorado to watch this pregnancy, this baby, and get us safely through until the end.  I'm grateful for my friends that showed undying love and support ... as well as kept me laughing through a "surprise" pregnancy as I grew, and grew, and grew to astronomical proportions.  I'm grateful for a husband that still has a little athletic skill allowing him to duck and cover when my hormones got the better of me (okay, it was only 2 times) and I lost complete control as my arm hurled whatever was closest.  (I can now admit my shame, I'm done being pregnant.)

I'm grateful to my children who contended with an old, pregnant, sometimes grouchy, pretty much useless mother for 9 months ... and they are still talking to me.  I'm grateful to my kid's teachers, who showed great mercy when my kids forgot their homework because their Mom was puking muliptle times in the morning and didn't have a moment to check backpacks (or see if their clothes were clean or the teeth were brushed or their hair was ratty). I'm grateful my mom let me bitch, often, and just sat there on the phone affording me multiple moments of freaking out. I'm grateful for facebook, and IM, and chatting with my Aunt Debbie, my cousins, and friends about being pregnant, being miserable, and being terrified of multiple procedures (see amniocentisis) people assured me were no big deal.  Finally, I'm grateful for the new Jack in the Box that was built a few months before my pregnancy.  The chicken sandwich with swiss got me through some tough times.  Yes, food is love.

I'm grateful to my pharmacist(s), who I am now on a first name basis with, who watched me walk and eventually waddle in the last few months to pick up multiple prescriptions for different stages of the pregnancy.  I'm grateful they always assured me everything was safe, my doctors were not quacks, and even got me the "sharp" needles for my two times a day injections with blood thinners out of the kindness of their hearts.  If you've ever "shot up" with a needle that is just manufactured "dull", you know the difference immediately.  Major pain versus minimal discomfort.

I'm grateful for the awesome anesthesiologist who was liberal with the epidural medication so I could not feel my legs, or my bottom portion of my body (it was like a spinal, I think I could have had a cesarean and felt nothing).  I'm grateful he was a New England boy, who took an immediate liking to us because we lived in New England, and by hour 10 of labor, he was no longer "Dr" but a friend (literally) checking in on me every hour, I think just to chat.  I'm grateful to the nurses and doctors and nurse practioners who gave me phenomenal medical care through all grueling 20 hours ... and the intense moment after delivery when everything that I was warned "could" go wrong, started to go wrong.  I'm grateful they were knowledgeable, caring, and thought fast on their feet.

I'm grateful my Mom was there, and my "other" colorado Mom, (Mom's BFF from High School) to be my "Red Tent" (if you don't know the reference, read the book, it's great) ... because Jon doesn't do labor well.  Needles scare him, and the whole messy process sort of freaks him out so he chatters, and it bothers me, and my Mom makes him go away and get snacks.  There are so many other "gratefuls", and I know I am forgetting some, but there is alot to be grateful for.  CHAPTER TWO ...