Nicole Michelle

Okay, I had my baby three weeks ago now. It’s been hectic on and off. The real reason I haven’t posted since is not really because of the baby. It’s more because a) I forgot? b) The internet is sloooowwww here c) we’re living at my parents until The Husband finishes building me my house.
She is a little growthspurt! She was born at 8 pounds 12 ounces, was back at her exact birthweight by five days, and by 16 days weighed 10 pounds 2 ounces. She has such a long torso that some NB stuff fits her and some doesn’t. In sleepers she’s wearing mostly 3-6 months already. Her 0-3mos onesies and pants/bottoms all fit yet, but some of the onesies are getting tight. Speaking of tight. Little girl tights are the cutest ever. As are little skirts with diaper covers. Or, as I prefer to call them, bumcovers. The more ridiculously cute, the better. And even better if the colour pink is involved. Almost everything I have bought myself either is pink or looks really cute with pink. But it’s not just me, The Husband loves the pink stuff too, especially if it refers to her being a princess.
My family and friends like to buy her clothes, too. Who doesn’t like to dress babies? Not me, that’s for sure. I’m not going to lie, I’m super happy she’s a girl. I would have been super happy with a boy, but I’m super happy she’s a girl. I’m super DUPER happy she’s a girl actually, considering she likes to pee when she’s being changed. If she had been a boy I would have been peesprayed twice already, and The Husband once. He was funny. I was there when it happened for him, and he was like, AWWW, NOW WHAT?! I just laughed and told him to let her finish and then give her another fresh diaper, and be happy he had the diaper under her at the time. I’ve lucked out that way every time, too.

Oh, for the record, I think I would rather have been in labour than have that test to see if my water was broken again. Labour wasn’t all that bad, it sucked but it was tolerable, as in, the only point where I felt like crying was when I tried the gas and it made me all wonky (while I waited for my epidural they left me the gas but I wouldn’t take it, I figured if the labour pain wasn’t making me cry and the gas was then I preferred the labour pain.) … PUSHING, on the other hand, THAT really sucked, but I only pushed for like 15 minutes. I informed Chris at one point, when Nicole was crowning, I’m sure, by the feel of it, that I couldn’t do it anymore. He told me I could, and I was intelligent enough to realize that I really didn’t have a choice, either the baby had to come out or I was just gonna have to sit there forever in pain. Pushing some more did sound more appealing than having the baby stay there in the crowned position. I also remember thinking the resident was a jackass (excuse my french) when he told me to take it easy and stop pushing or something like that when she was nearly out – probably so he could do some more stretching, and in the end I’m grateful to him, as I walked out of there with one tiny stitch. But honestly, when the baby is nearly out, and you KNOW the baby is nearly out and you are almost done being in so much pain, and the guy on the baby end tells you NOT to just push push push and go for the gold, what flashes across your brain is something along the lines of, “ARE YOU @#$^$%#@$ KIDDING ME?!?!!!!”
Which I didn’t say. I didn’t say one bad thing the whole time. Actually I didn’t say much of anything at all while I was in labour. And the closest I came to saying anything bad was when I gave The Husband a glare and The Finger when he decided it would be funny to take a video of me having a contraction in triage. And there is video proof of that one.

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