How Do New Moms Find Time To Blog?


Seriously. And how are they so damn witty? I can’t seem to find the time to sit and write, and even if I did, my brain is the equivalent of rice pudding.

And I really want to tell you about the funny (funny-peculiar, not funny-haha) things I’ve been doing lately. Like when I thought it would be fun to read a book to Whoorlito, stuck a big colorful page right in his face, and experienced my baby’s first scared-out-of-his-mind freak out.

Note to self- do NOT stick big colorful busy objects in infant’s face. It apparently is very disturbing to infant.

Y’all. A nine-pound being is running my life. I can’t even go to the bathroom without wondering if he is going to fuss while I’m peeing. And he’s not even that fussy! He’s just got a wicked internal radar that alerts him when I start to leave the room. It never fails.

My mother left this morning after helping me for a week and a half. It was so fabulous and helpful and I’m so sad she’s gone because today it’s just me and the super pooper.

SHIT…he DOES have internal radar super powers! Everytime I start writing an entry he wakes up from his nap. Is he emitting a hunger fuss/grunt or is he relieving himself of some mustard custard (thanks Caroline)? Who knows…it’s all a crapshoot around here. Literally.

Wait, he’s back to sleep. Okay, now he’s smiling. Crying now. Face is turning very red. Furrowing his brows. Annnndddd, back to sleep.

What the fuck.

All in all, how could you be mad at this sweet thing?



A Half-Assed Attempt of Whoorlito’s Birth Story


August 3, 2006

9:00am – D and I had our third appointment with Maternal Diagnostics to check on my amniotic fluid issues. We were pretty sure we would receive the same news as the prior visits, but for some reason we decided to pack our hospital bags in the car this time. Oooh, the foreshadowing…

10:00am – The Diagnostics nurse informed us that my fluid level was a 2.5 and to call my parents to make sure they were on their way. It was time. YEE HAW.


10:30am – Admitted to Labor and Delivery. Our room was pretty damn amazing and the view was beautiful even on a cloudy day. I got some ice chips to munch on- turns out I had ice chips for breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks and the next morning’s breakfast. Looking back, why did I only eat a piece of toast for breakfast? Total bullshit.

11:00am – Pitocin was started through my IV. Oh, have I mentioned that my Pregnancy Trinity of Phobias included Pitocin, Episiotomies and Cord Entanglement? Pitocin? Check.


1:00pm – La la la. I am bored. Contractions are for sissies. What’s that you say? Time to break my water? Okie dokie, artichokie. The nurse informed me that an OB was on the floor and he would break my water shortly. As most of you remember, I know all of the obstetricians who work at the hospital through my job. I looked at D and wondered whom the OB was going to be just as he sauntered through the door. Dr. Biggie Thick Man Hands at your service. Honestly, I joke about this man’s hands all the time at work. HUGE HANDS. HUGE FINGERS.

There are probably 50 obstetricians with privileges at this specific hospital and I had to get Dr. Biggie Thick Man Hands. This was probably one of the most uncomfortable moments of the day. I was only dilated 2 centimeters and he couldn’t get the water to break. Plus, he was trying to get the fetal scalp monitor on Wito’s scalp which involved biggie man hand manipulation to the tenth degree. OUCH.

1:30pm – GUSH. BIG GUSH. Now, this was interesting. Turns out I had plenty of amniotic fluid. It was just hiding out behind the baby, and the ultrasound tech couldn’t find it. I probably soaked through ten big towels…even the nurses were joking about the massive amount of fluid. Um, so now I had just realized that the induction WITH PITOCIN A WEEK EARLY was probably completely unnecessary. Sweet. Well, there was no stopping us now.

2:00pm – Lunchtime consisted of a cherry-flavored popsicle. I hate cherry popsicles, but hell, it was better than ice chips.

3:00pm – Okay, contractions aren’t for sissies. Ouch.

3:00pm – 6:00pm – Ouch. Breathe deep. Center yourself. Mother fucker.

6:30pm – Dr. Epidural arrives. Love, love, loved him.

7:00pm – Excuse me, aren’t I supposed to be able to wiggle my toes? Because I can’t wiggle my toes and my leg feels like it is gigantic swollen bratwurst.

7:00pm – 2:00am – Wow, those sure look like big contractions on the monitor. I bet those would hurt- lucky me I had Dr. Epidural. I want to lick you, Dr. Epidural!

August 4, 2006

2:00am – The nurse reminds me to get some sleep while she is putting a big, uncomfortable oxygen mask on my face. Lady, you try getting some sleep with a big plastic mask blowing residual oxygen in your eyeballs and a blood pressure cuff automatically squeezing your arm off every 30 minutes. Oooh, I’m SO relaxed and sleepy.


2:30am – The nurse arrives. She informs me that I have now been on Pitocin for nearly 16 hours and at the maximum dose for quite awhile. I am currently dilated to 3 centimeters. 3 SHITTY CENTIMETERS. She informs me that they are stopping the Pitocin for an hour, re-starting at half the dose at 4am, and if I don’t respond in a couple of hours, it’s C-section time. At this point, I was so ready to get the baby OUT. I figured a C-section would be in my near future.

4am – Pitocin break was over. Start it up again.

6am – I was dilated to 8 centimeters! THANK YOU SWEET JEBUS!

7am- 9 centimeters!

7:30am – Almost 10 centimeters, except for some damn cervical lip thingy that won’t budge. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, OPEN SESAME!!

8am – Time to push. The nurse promises me that I will have a baby in my arms by 9:00. Commence pushing.

9am – Still pushing. My brain feels like it is going to explode. I keep glancing at Wolf Blitzer on the television- does he have an identical twin? I am literally seeing double from the non-stop pushing. This is when the nurse makes the comment, “You have a such a small pelvis! Did your doctor mention this?”

Um, no.

10:00am – Still pushing. I was literally at the end of my rope- two solid hours of pushing and nothing. I could feel his little head, but apparently, it was stuck behind my pelvic bone.

I can honestly say this moment was the most hopeless and helpless I have ever felt. Everyone had come to the realization that he wasn’t coming out by pushing alone. My doctor informed me I had two choices, C-section or vacuum assistance. I took one look at her and told her LIKE HELL I was going to have a C-section after 24 hours of labor (of course, in my very polite whoorl way). So, vacuum it was.

After 8 minutes of pushing and vacuum assistance, little Wito was born. Unfortunately, he had his cord wrapped tightly around his neck and every time the OB tried to suck him out, the cord pulled tighter and tighter. It was like a war between the cord and the vacuum and little Wito was the innocent bystander. Oh, and cord entanglement? Check.


The next couple of hours were a true blur…all I recall was not hearing him cry and wondering why, 10 people in my room standing around him talking in hushed tones and a neonatologist explaining the risks of a blood transfusion to me while I was being stitched up. Episiotomy? Hell no. TAKE THAT OH HOLY TRINITY OF PREGNANCY PHOBIAS! DENIED! BOOM SHAKALAKA!

Then a nurse brought him to me, let me kiss him on the cheek and whisked him away to the NICU. And that was that- I didn’t even get to look at his sweet face for more than 5 seconds.


The following hours were filled with a lot of crying and praying while waiting for the epidural to wear off so I could be wheeled up to the NICU to see him. Luckily, D was allowed to see him after an hour and called to let me know he was doing okay. Those five days in the NICU seemed to last forever, but Wito grew stronger every minute of every day.

And now he’s a champ.


The end.


The birth story is too daunting at this point.



This parenting gig is exhausting. My baby is a tad confused – sleepy angel by day, grunty scared-of-the-dark vampire by night. I totally blame the NICU.

S.O.S. – I’m so tired.

He never cries, but he loves to stay awake all night and cluster feed. Hence, my boobs are falling off, but for good reason. We had a home-health nurse make a visit to check on the baby’s weight and such. She wanted to make sure he was back to his birth weight at the two-week point.

Ahem. At 12 days old, he weighed in at 7 lbs, 14 ounces. So I guess you could say he gained enough to get back to his 6 pound, 11 ounce birth weight and THEN SOME.


Oh, he’s awake. Gotta run.

As Britney would sing,

I’m a SLAAAAAAAVE to the boob…I cannot hold it; I cannot control it.

I’m a SLAAAAAAAVE to the boob…I won’t deny it; I’m not trying to hide it…


Sleepy Time


Birth story is on the way this week…still catching up around here.