Whiskey Boy's Arrival

Jameson Leth is five months old now, and because I am slack beyond belief I have not yet written about him. First things first, his transition to air-breathing creature.

I didn't want to call the midwife when I woke up with contractions on that Tuesday. I'd been dilated to 4cm the previous Thursday, called her twice with incipient pains since just to let her know to keep her shoes on. Both times, they faded away to nothing. So, superstitious pregnant woman that I was, I was convinced that if we called her too soon they'd go away again -- and I was getting impatient! Half an hour after I told Dave that "Y'know ... maybe you should stay home today?" he was on the phone to Alice and Layla (the mother-daughter midwifery team who had brought elder brother Jacob into the air. Their motto: A baby in under four hours or your money back!) Layla asked Dave if I wanted them to come. "Weeeell ... not reeeeeally ..." Then she asked if HE wanted them to come. "Ohgodyes!" So thereyago.

Cub knew JUST what to do when labor started. "You gotta get on the blue ball, Mommy!" He was quite right, the birth ball subdued at least 80% of the pain, which I realized the first time I stood up to go to the bedroom -- OOF! My in-laws came over immediately, and my folks a short while later, to amuse and distract Cub. This proved to be Not A Big Deal, as he was rather matter-of-fact (even blase) about the whole thing.

We'd practiced the big roars that Mommy makes to get the baby out, so he made everyone in the house roar together, which was pretty entertaining. Apparently, he thought it was the noise that did the trick!

So Alice was sprawled over the end of our bed, and I sat on the B^4 (Big Blue Birth Ball) and made inappropriate smartass remarks between contrax. Amazingly, even during the pains, I could keep my face relaxed, my hands lying open and palm-up. I luuuuuuuuuuurv the B^4. Lovelovelove it. Have become a B^4 evangelist. Jacob's birth was quick and easy, but the difference between that experience (B^4-less) and this one was striking. The discomfort was totally manageable until ... it wasn't manageable anymore, and I got up on the bed and proceeded to chant "No, this isn't any better, this isn't any better, thisisn'tanybetterTHISISN'TANYBETTER" and six minutes later Jameson (Whiskey Boy!) was born, three and a half hours from the time when achiness woke me up.

I held his head as he came out, which was amazing. However, LESS amazing was the fact that his head, shoulders, and hips were the same diameter. You know how, on tv, the head emerges and the rest of the body is just a free ride and slips out easily? Nope. Not my little tree trunk. (9 pounds six ounces. Never lost an ounce.) And at 5 months, he's STILL built that way! I can't wait to see how his body changes as a toddler.

Ten minutes after the birth (during which I tore, and required many curse-filled stitches which hurt TEN times more than crowning ever did), my sweet husband kissed my forehead and lovingly whispered, "He's so beautiful. You're wonderful. I can't wait to do this again."

Idiot.

We have a picture of Whiskey taken seconds after he was born, and his eyes are so calm, focused and alert. I love it. It shows exactly what he was like.

I'd forgotten what it was like to nurse a newborn, that you have to learn together. Cub reached across me the first time Whiskey latched on, and I thought "Ooooooh ... the rivalry is starting already ..." But no! He put his hand behind the baby's head and gently pushed towards my breast, tickling baby's lips like a LLL veteran. "Nurse, baby, nurse! There ya go ..." It was the sweetest damn thing I've ever seen, and I'll be telling that story until they're old enough to bribe me to keep my mouth shut.

We all snuggled up for the next week or so, Cub fed me grapes and Whiskey figured out where he was. The first day, it was as if he'd always been here. I was high as a kite. Again. Gotta love endorphins, I felt like I could juggle boulders, zoom through a marathon, FLY!

I so dig mothering.

Love,

Pamela