Blogging A Dead Horse.

Eeeek, another birth post.

Last one, I promise.

(Well, until I birth another babe, of course.)

(NOT pregnant. This disclaimer is probably a bit unnecessary considering Conor's age in weeks, buuuuut you can never be too unintended pregnancy announcement safe in the blog world, am I right?)

I cut Conor's birth story off right after I held him because, let's be honest, it was already too long. But I have been getting some questions about more of the nitty gritty stuff so I thought I would do one last birth post. Other than reading a couple books to prepare for Ryan's birth, my method of preparation was reading birth story after birth story after birth story ... you get the picture. In case there are any mamas-to-be out there that are curious, I want to pay it forward.

>>> I don't know the exact amount of time that I pushed because of all the contractions in between that I waited through, but the nurses said it was definitely under an hour from when I started until Conor was born.
>>> I only had very tiny tears so I did not need any stitches. Joooooy! My midwife said that pushing the head out slowly helped. With Ryan, I had a very minor tear that needed a couple of stitches. You can bet I asked for a local anesthetic.
>>> Having my baby in my arms did help keep my mind occupied during the stitches and examining, but I'm not going to lie - it still stung.
>>> With all of the commotion with Conor being a little sunny side up and his heart rate going down, the midwife ending up catching the baby, not the resident.
>>> While Chris was holding soon after he was born, I felt an urge to push. I did, and out came the placenta. Luckily it wasn't painful, but I do remember it being a little painful with Ryan (maybe because I tore more with him?). My midwife commented that the placenta was huge. A nice and roomy accommodation for Conor, I guess.
>>> I will forever, ever, ever try to give birth at 6:20 pm. Because you know, you so can tell your uterus when to evict the baby. But, really. Having Conor in the evening is what has made my recovery as easy as it has been. Ryan was born at 4:58 am so we started parenthood on zero hours of sleep with a prognosis of very little sleep to come thanks to Ryan's love affair with being awake (which has yet to fizzle). After Conor was born, I was full of adrenaline and love at first, but then when I was left with just love, I was able to sleep at 10pm so I was never thrown off a normal schedule. 6:20 pm is the Margaritaville of birth arrivals.
>>> The after birth contractions were worse than after Ryan. Oh my goodness.
>>> In the midst of every bathroom trip, I would deem Ryan an only child. Conor was deemed the youngest child forever. A few minutes to forget any bathroom business and a quick cuddle took those titles away.

All in all. It's over.

For now.

Because Conor won't be the youngest. I hope.

(Again, not pregnant! Mean it).