So, now that I am back into my Muddy account here’s a quick little catch up on what is new at the zoo…..
My son now is the proud recipient of his very own little brother. As of September 1st The Hubs and I have added another mini-human in boy form. And big brother is obsessed. It was a hard road but I finally have my two boys. Unfortunately for me, when I am pregnant I get violently sick until the doctors can figure out what medications can help. Never have I been diagnosed with HG, the super nausea and vomiting, but that is basically what it is. In one week, I dropped 10 pounds, which, I mean yeah I want to get my weight a little down, but sweet peacocks not that way; before my doctors could find a good medication for my nausea I was not even able to keep water down. Not even at a tablespoon-a-time. By the time I told my nurse I needed to get in for my first visit to set up prenatal care, I was so dehydrated that just by looking at my lack luster lips she knew I was dehydrated and needed fluids, which landed me a fast pass to the Urgent Care for liquids….yayyyyyy. But, after trial and error they got me on some low key medications that were safe for baby and let me at least keep foods and liquid down. Was I still nauseas? You bet your sweet booty I was, all nine months. Then there was the depression. Because of COVID, with the exception of my amenorrhea visit and the anatomy ultrasound, I had to fly solo to each visit, and because I was having an unusual pregnancy I had ultrasounds out my sweet derrière and those ultrasounds earned me extra doctor visits. And all those things were hard to do without The Hubs by my side, couple that with the exhaustion from the insomnia, the anxiety that I already had before becoming pregnant being tripled, my emotions did a swan dive off the high board. I felt alone and for a while really angry. Angry that my pregnancy couldn’t just go smoothly, angry that the world is now a COVID world and that hospitals had to limit access. After being up front with my provider, and given my history of anxiety, again, I was put on growing-baby approved medication. And even though this pregnancy was, what felt like, the longest eight months of my life, I’m deeply grateful that I was able to get pregnant in the first place. Some parents aren’t lucky enough to have their own babies, so, for my obnoxiously medicated one, I am profoundly grateful. Though delivery could have gone a little differently….
First off, bundle number 2 arrived at 36 weeks, so only four weeks early which isn’t hyper critical in the sense of ‘GET THE BABY TO THE NICU AND CALL KAREV! WHERE IS KAREV!’ but it did land us in the hospital for a couple of extra days. And is a couple extra days really that bad to make sure a baby is healthy enough to go home as a pre-term? NO, absolutely not. However, my issue was this, when we checked in at the Family Birth Center we were informed that we would only be allowed one visitor and that one lucky visitor was only permitted to have a one hour visit. Finding that out I was a little excited, I fully expected, that because of COVID, nobody would be visiting my new boy. The Hubs and I fully intended on using our plus-one for our swamp monster, who during all of this, was with his Meema and Ogee and Nene. The need for my older son to come see me in the hospital and meet his new baby only magnified when my sister told me she showed him a picture of me in my hospital get up and bed and he thought I died. No amount of phone time and persuading on my sisters end really helped, do you understand how upsetting it is to know your son thinks you died and that you’re not coming to get him? My heart tore into little mommy fragments that were already on edge from being exhausted. So, when The Hubs was heading out of the hospital to go check the dogs and other animals I asked him to check with the nurses if our plus-one pass could be used for our Swamp Monster, and to let them know our visit would be short and sweet since everybody in the medical world was already on edge with COVID. This is where things for me took an emotional turn, I guess when he talked to my nurse she had to be the one to inform us that children could not be the visitor, because the new virus showed signs of being expertly transmitted by littles who are just fabulous ick carriers, he would not be permitted access. Now I understand that nobody wanted a rogue virus making its way to the birthing floor, but I about lost my cool. I was so mad and upset and just needed to see my Swamp Monster, I briefly considered breaking my new bundle out of the hospital, obviously I did not, but it was a real plan I was formulating at the time.
Eventually we did get discharged, and to boot the doctor signed off on the new bundle 5-hours early. You see, when you are a pre-term baby there are extra checks you have to make and pass, so instead of the 24-hour hold you get a 48-hour hold. With a lot of nurses feeling our pain and talking us up to the doctor doing rounds that morning, the pediatrician on call reluctantly released my new bundle 5-hours early; we definitely got a long winded discussion before we left but since baby passed all his tests without issue and our nurses felt confident she agreed there was no medical necessity to keep us longer. And let me tell you something, I already had everything packed up and as soon as those discharge papers came through we were gone; it’s possible the Family Birthing Center now thinks The Hubs and I are crazy people because as they’re yelling congratulations and well wishes our way we just power stormed right through the FBC wing, tossing back Thank You’s along the way, to the elevator to get to our freedom. I informed The Hubs to not stop walking until we were on the elevator and outside the hospital because I didn’t want the pediatrician to suddenly have a change of heart and keep us longer, and I had a Swamp Monster at home who needed to know I didn’t die. So, that was a fun new experience that I could have lived without.
So, now I am the proud owner of two boys, I’m sure once the second one gets big enough there will be even more mudding finding it’s way into my home.
To boot, we also got a new Chocolate Lab….and he’s……well he’s a puppy so we’re not best friends quite yet. We’re getting there, but I honestly forgot how much work puppies are you guys. No amount of chew toys seems to be enough for Hank, and no amount of harassing chickens and our older dogs seems to be enough for new-kid-on-the-block Hank. But, again, he’s a puppy so what can I expect? And since he is a lab he has some big freaking paws, which equals, lots of muddy dirt getting shoved up in between his toes, muddy dirt that holds onto the dog for dear life, but relaxes and falls off once the mud can sense it has reached the safety of my freshly vacuumed carpet. And I think Hank is secretly conspiring against me. Why? Well, he sits ‘patiently’ at the door, meaning he tries to jump up and open it himself which covers my door in mud, then walks in nicely on the tile and shows no signs of lingering mud. Then he makes it to the carpet and he’s off, tearing across the floor or shaking vigorously leaving behind little mud-speckled paw prints.
I’m getting real tired of this mud out here surrounding our house. And I keep having this vision that right now it’s just a hassle because the new dog is young and my bigger Swamp Monster just doesn’t know how to elegantly de-boot and pants. But I fully know that as these boys grow they’ll just keep getting muddier and dirtier, because a sandbox and laps around the house can only be fun for so long….eventually they’ll adventure down the forest paths on their quads which will chuck mud into places mud should not be in. Then they will track it into my home because they are boys and, more importantly, they are kids.
And if I have to choose between a clean, mud free, house or happy healthy kids…..then I say bring on the mud, me and my carpet cleaner will hold on for this wild ride.