He's Here!

He's here!

Introducing Carter Owen Hoffmann, born March 25, 2011

And the doctor wasn't lying when he said this kid was going to be BIG!

Yep.  Half ounce shy of 10.5 pounds.  And he was a week early!  If I would have gone on my own, this kid would have been pushing 12 pounds!

But he is here, he is healthy, and we are smitten.

Holy Water Face Batman.  Could my Nose Be Any Wider?!? 

But let's start back at the beginning, shall we?

Since we learned with Kaeden's birth that my body doesn't understand the concept of dilation [contractions it gets, but those months of contractions lead me to no where but a "tight" 4 after 15 hours of labor], we knew all along that Carter would be delivered via a scheduled c-section.

This is also why we knew that even though Carter had been measuring big for months, the doctors weren't concerned what implication this had on delivery because as my O.B. put it, "That kid can get as big as he wants, we'll just cut the hole wider."  If this were my first go round his comment would probably put me in tears, but since this is my second time with Dr. Neilson, I totally understand his humor, and I can take it in stride.  In fact, I kind of love it.

The day before surgery I checked in at the hospital, got all my fancy bracelets, and was told to come back at 1 p.m. the next day for prep.

I was disappointed that I'd have to go so long without eating, but hey, I was getting a new baby out of it, so I  can handle it, right?

I actually slept pretty good that night.  Carrying around a belly that measures 48 weeks [that's 8 weeks past due] at 37 weeks will do that to you.

At 6 am my cell phone rang.  Confused, I got up to get it only to be greeted with, "Is this Ashley?"

"Yes."

"This is St. Marks Hospital.  Were you still planning on having your c-section today?"

I wanted so badly to be like, "Nah, I figured I'd push it back.  Waiting nine months isn't nearly long enough, and I just LOVE being hugely pregnant."  But instead I said, "Yes...."

And she replied, "Well you were supposed to be here by 5.  If you want a chance of getting in, you need to get here ASAP."

Being hormonal, I was a little emotional at the scolding, but I let the lady know there must have been a mistake because I was told to check in at 1 p.m.  She of course figured that I was the one in the wrong, even though I have in writing what my check in time is, and said, well, we need you to come in as soon as possible.  "When do you think you can be here?"

Oh I don't know lady.  I have a two-and-a-half-year-old that people aren't exactly lining up to babysit at 6 a.m. on a moments notice.  I explained the situation to her and said we'd be in as soon as we could.

Kaeden after being woken up at the crack of dawn.

After a mad scramble, we found ourselves entering the hospital around 8 am.  We were checked in, questioned as to why we were so early [what the?], and put into a room.

Monitors hooked up, and we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Because everything was all screwed up with scheduling, no one knew when I would be taken back.

Luckily I had the funniest nurse ever.  I loved her.  She kept coming in and apologizing every time the slot I was given for surgery would come and go.

I honestly didn't really care.  I figured it was going to get done, and I wasn't uncomfortable or anything to wait.  Throwing up for six months really puts into perspective what exactly is uncomfortable, and what is not.  I could handle being 9 months [or in my case, 11 months] pregnant size-wise for all nine months if it meant I didn't have to have the sickness.  What was a few more hours?

My 9:30 slot came and went.  Then my 10:00, 10:30, 11:00, etc.  My nurse was getting close to getting off shift, and determined to see my baby.

She came into my room, threw Jeff his scrubs, and said, put these on.  I don't know when we are going back, but I'm going to squeeze you in the first opportunity I see.  It will literally be coming in and saying, "LET'S GO!"

So Jeff got changed, and we again waited:

And my nurse wasn't kidding.  She suddenly came barging into the door, unhooked all of my cords in about 2 seconds and started wheeling me down the hall yelling to Jeff, "Follow me!"

For those of you who haven't had a c-section, here is how it goes.

You go into the OR on your own.

The anesthesiologist gives you your spinal block [just like getting an epidural for all intents and purposes]. You are layed out, hooked up to more machines, and the curtain goes up.  At this point your spouse is usually let into the room.  You know, while you are laying on a board, arms spread out, and totally buck naked.

It's hot.

Once the doctor's determine you have no feeling in your nether regions [apparently by poking and prodding you and waiting to see if you have a reaction], things get under way.

An incision is made, and a vacuum goes on to suck up anything and everything that starts falling out.  You know, blood, amniotic fluid, all the good stuff.

Side note:  So obviously I had been measuring big with Carter for quite some time.  Each doctor's appointment that revealed he was measuring farther and farther ahead, I kept getting more and more frustrated.  As the mother you feel like you are doing something wrong.  Being self conscious I felt like everyone would judge the huge woman with the huge baby.  And of course I didn't like all the jokes about how Carter was going to come out a toddler and not a newborn.  I wanted a newborn dammit!

My doctor explained to me that a few things could be at play:  1.  Carter could really just be a big, big baby, 2.  I could have an exceptionally large amount of amniotic fluid, or 3. A combination of both.

Well when my doc said, "Okay Ashley, we're going to get started." I sat and just listened to what was going on, trying to figure out what stage of the process we were in.  I heard the vacuum start sucking, and then all the sudden I hear it nearly clog, huge splashes everywhere, and all of the doctor's and nurses jump back and exclaim, "Wow!"  "Watchout!"  "Oh my gosh!".

Keep in mind, I think that the doctors and nurses sometimes forget that the person they are operating on is generally fully cognitive and able to hear/understand what they are saying.  I learned that with Kaeden's birth when I wanted to kill the staff who sat there and debated who was singing the song on the radio loudspeaker.  It was Leona Lewis, and I wanted to strangle their necks having to listen to every single one of them confidently get it wrong.  Obviously I'm still not over it.

So the nurses start yelling, "we need a mop", "get her some new socks", etc.  At this point I understood that there had been a mini flood when my amniotic sac was cut and the amount of fluid overwhelmed the vacuum.  The first thought they came to my head?  "Yess!!!! I'm gonna have a regular size baby."

Nope.

Big baby.  Lots of fluid.  No wonder I was HUGE.

Baby Carter came into this world and was perfect.

Right after birth, and for about 24 hours after, he was having difficulty regulating his blood sugars, which also led to some understanding why he was so big.  I most likely had an undetected case of gestational diabetes.

Once in my recovery room, the visitors started coming.  I was happy to have people we love surrounding us, but something about the medicine they gave me to come off my anesthesia did not like me.  I had already thrown up twice [something that is not easy to do with a fresh incision], and when everyone was in the room talking about Carter, I looked and Jeff and said, "I think I'm going to be sick again."  Jeff scrambled for a basin, and I did my best to hold it in while he escorted people out of the room, but I was not successful.  Sorry to everyone who had to see that!  They finally got the anti-nausea medication right, and from there on out I was good to go.

Carter and I spent the next 3 days in the hospital getting to know each other.

I couldn't get enough of him, as evidenced by my non-stop photo-taking.

When I first found out Carter was a boy at my 18 week ultrasound, I was both happy and sad.  Happy to know that my baby was healthy, but a little sad at the fact that I wasn't having the girl I was hoping for.  Possibly because I came from a family of one boy and one girl, I always just imagined that is what I would have.  Knowing that we were thinking we only wanted two kids, I just couldn't imagine myself not being the mother to a little girl.  Not that I wasn't happy to be having another little boy, but it was a little bit of a grieving process to let that dream go.

But spending my first few days with Carter changed EVERYTHING.  He and I just had a connection right off the bat.  We understood one another.  We were learning the breastfeeding thing together and having success.  Something about him made me so grateful he was a boy, and in fact made me suddenly think that if I ever have more kids, I hope they are all boys!  Kinda funny how these little sleepy beings can flip your whole world around.

Before Carter was born, I put a lot of thought about how I wanted Kaeden to be introduced to his little brother.  I did a lot of research, and one thing I new for positive, is that when Kaeden came to the room, I wanted him to see me without the baby. I wanted him to see his mom, understand that I'm still the same old mom, and then be introduced to the baby separate of me.

Unfortunately Kaeden had a little bit of a cold the week of Carter's delivery.  I was nervous that we wouldn't be able to bring him to the hospital to meet his little brother, and I didn't want him to spend his first night away from me not really understanding what was going on.

Lucky for us we got the clearance to bring him in.

And here is my special big brother meeting his sweet little brother for the first time.

He was pretty excited, and I couldn't have asked for a better first time meet up.  Kaeden was a little nervous about his new brother though, and wasn't comfortable holding him.

Good thing little Jane had no fears.  She stood in as a substitute sibling for us.

Grams [my mom] was pretty smitten with her new grand-baby too.

So now we're home.  Navigating this life as a family of four.

My last day in the hospital they gave me the option to stay one more day, or be released.  I opted to go home, but 5 minutes into being home, I began to question my decision.

Life with a newborn and a toddler can be overwhelming.  Especially while trying to figure out this breastfeeding thing.

But we are a few days in, and I think we are going to be okay.

Sure love my little boys.  I hope they are the best of friends one day.

And with that I leave you with a picture of Carter that for whatever reason I just love.  It really doesn't look anything like him [have you ever photographed a newborn?  They completely change in every shot], but for some reason the goofiness of the picture just gets me.  The crazy hair, the squished eye, the goofy slight grin.

Well hello there big boy.  Welcome to the world!  We are going to have a lot of fun.