My water broke at 9:30 the morning of my sister's birthday, and 29 1/2 grueling yet boring hours later, TJ finally made his grand entrance on November 25 at 2:56 pm! At 7 pounds, 2 ounces, and 21 inches long, he was awake and alert at birth, didn't fuss (after his mouth and nose were cleaned out with the suction bulb, that is), and was eager to see and touch everything in sight. He even grabbed his daddy's thumb as he was cutting the cord! He cooed at all the nurses and techs, already stealing hearts.
After a short bout with moderate jaundice and much trouble learning to nurse, we went home Thanksgiving afternoon, where my mom made ham and vegetables and had to feed me on the couch. I had a third degree laceration and couldn't sit up well, and I needed help getting to the bathroom for a few days. I'm still on oxycodone for the pain.
Black Friday saw me in the ER clutching a ziploc bag with a pear-sized clot in it, waiting and worrying for two hours until I was seen. Mom and I both agreed that it looked like a piece of the placenta, but that had been checked in the delivery room and was whole. My ultrasound was clear, so I was sent home with yet another needle hole in my arm. Two IVs, three blood draws, and a failed attempt in less than a week sure leave one looking like a heroin junkie. At the follow-up appointment, I got the pathology results: the clot was indeed placental tissue, but not part of TJ's--it was a completely separate placenta, but without a baby in it. ...How close did I come to having twins? Scary.
I have much to be thankful for with this precocious child, not the least of which is that he's a generally happy baby with no colic. He fusses only until his needs are met and not when he simply wants attention. He falls asleep on his own. He has no physical defects. He has a beautiful smile.
This is my baby.
