this one time...
Last Monday my little brother sent an email including Brian Andreas' "Invention" and this note: Thank y'all for changing the world.
Less than a month!
Then a couple weeks and I get to meet your invention.
Love y'all.
Within an hour of receiving this bawl-producing message, I was hospitalized.
Within 12 hours I was induced.
Within 36 I birthed the most incredible invention. The (little) Dude.
Meet Merritt Scot Nipper:
Within 12 hours I was induced.
Within 36 I birthed the most incredible invention. The (little) Dude.
Meet Merritt Scot Nipper:
These are the highlights.
Matt told everyone I was on "Pitussin." A fetal expectorant? Where you labor and then cough the baby out of your mouth?
My water was broken with a crochet hook. Several weeks ago I called a friend and asked if she thought I could break my own water at home with a wire hanger. You know, an invitation to get the party started. After experiencing the crochet-hookage, I'm certain that the wire hanger scenario would have ended no differently.
I had to scrape my labor nurse off the floor after I feared I had sharted (PK'd), then got sad about the fact that once the baby was born I wouldn't be able to fartle him in utero anymore. My code brown fears were met with uncontrollable laughter by One Nurse Cindy. These fears were (thankfully) unfounded.
I read 43,009 books in preparation for this experience, several of which focused on hypnobirthing, natural/drug free births, birth without pain & fear, etcetera. I've decided I'm writing a new book, as I've created a hybrid method of birthing. My book will be titled Drug-Free Birthing: Now With Drugs! Because when my contractions went from "don't" and "wasn't" to "ohshitn't" and "owfucksn't," there was no way that I wasn't going to become close, personal friends with a tuohy needle shoved 11 centimeters into my back.
Pleased to report that 1. Those foul words above were never uttered during the process, and 2. I actually owned the meditation modus operandi and went to some winter wonderland far, far away with claymation reindeer and cacti wearing scarves, wrapped in multi-colored Christmas lights. So far away that I'm convinced the room where I gave birth WASN'T the room where I gave birth. And I spent the next day saying, "Did I really do that in here?" over and over again.
Oh, and weeping joy over the life force that I ejected from my vagina.
MAJOR RAIN ON MY FACE.
My Daddy, a nurse and photographer (this is important later), honored the whole "you're my daughter and you've got some parts I haven't seen in almost 30 years so I'll just step out of the room while those parts are exposed" bit. But I encouraged him to stay with me and even gave him permission to capture the experience in raw format on his super fancy Nikon. There are now millions of NSFW images of my no-no special places. Seriously, millions. Matt said that between my parents and the prevalence of their camera flashes, he was convinced the paparazzi were outside the window, at the ready to capture the birth of the next big (tiny) thing.
Matt told everyone I was on "Pitussin." A fetal expectorant? Where you labor and then cough the baby out of your mouth?
My water was broken with a crochet hook. Several weeks ago I called a friend and asked if she thought I could break my own water at home with a wire hanger. You know, an invitation to get the party started. After experiencing the crochet-hookage, I'm certain that the wire hanger scenario would have ended no differently.
I had to scrape my labor nurse off the floor after I feared I had sharted (PK'd), then got sad about the fact that once the baby was born I wouldn't be able to fartle him in utero anymore. My code brown fears were met with uncontrollable laughter by One Nurse Cindy. These fears were (thankfully) unfounded.
I read 43,009 books in preparation for this experience, several of which focused on hypnobirthing, natural/drug free births, birth without pain & fear, etcetera. I've decided I'm writing a new book, as I've created a hybrid method of birthing. My book will be titled Drug-Free Birthing: Now With Drugs! Because when my contractions went from "don't" and "wasn't" to "ohshitn't" and "owfucksn't," there was no way that I wasn't going to become close, personal friends with a tuohy needle shoved 11 centimeters into my back.
Pleased to report that 1. Those foul words above were never uttered during the process, and 2. I actually owned the meditation modus operandi and went to some winter wonderland far, far away with claymation reindeer and cacti wearing scarves, wrapped in multi-colored Christmas lights. So far away that I'm convinced the room where I gave birth WASN'T the room where I gave birth. And I spent the next day saying, "Did I really do that in here?" over and over again.
Oh, and weeping joy over the life force that I ejected from my vagina.
MAJOR RAIN ON MY FACE.
My Daddy, a nurse and photographer (this is important later), honored the whole "you're my daughter and you've got some parts I haven't seen in almost 30 years so I'll just step out of the room while those parts are exposed" bit. But I encouraged him to stay with me and even gave him permission to capture the experience in raw format on his super fancy Nikon. There are now millions of NSFW images of my no-no special places. Seriously, millions. Matt said that between my parents and the prevalence of their camera flashes, he was convinced the paparazzi were outside the window, at the ready to capture the birth of the next big (tiny) thing.
Crowned both Miss Congeniality & Miss Personality, my doctor showed up and like Ben Stein on sedation, instructed me to push (read: tear). 1 hour and 40 minutes later my world became never the same. Then I birthed the placenta and was overwhelmed by the urge to save it and cross stitch "Merritt's First Pillow" into it.
Speaking of firsts: The name of Merritt's first Broadway production? LAUNDRY.
Hiccups along the journey? Sure. Like that one time I accidentally gave Merritt NOT our last name on his birth certificate. Or that other time we ended up in the NICU because of his Oompa-Loompa-tude. Or that really special time that Matt had an Amber Alert coded on him for taking our baby to the lab for a draw and ended up pinned to a chair by security guards and he became "The Amber Alert Dad" to all hospital staff. Or that ... (every. single.) time I think I'm going to blow a vag stitch by laughing or coughing or merely thinking about this little creature.
This child is amazing. He kicks himself in the balls and I wonder if this will be his go-to party trick in about 20 years. He boots and rallies (minus the booting) and does keg stands on my breasts. He makes espresso with the best of them - grinning all the while.
He makes me melt. He makes me weep. He makes me whole.
I can't remember life before him, nor can I imagine it without him.
This one time ... he made me a mother.
8 comments:
Great stuff!
What's this about Matt and the amber alert?!!
I've been waiting with baited breath to hear the first hand story of,(as I will call him) Merritt the Ferret. Not to sound just a little bit biased, but he's almost as cute as ours. Congratulations, can't wait to seeyou guys in December.
I'm so happy for you! He is precious. Oh and I have a a picture by the same artist in my kitchen. I love it! Congratulations!
Ha ha! Josh misspelled "bated"...Look it up!
I had to try really hard not to laugh too hard because I'm at work. Birthing has never been so funny!
He won't be so tiny when I get to see him in December, but he'll probably still be smaller than either of mine when they got here.
You are awesome, Kate!
Yay! So glad to hear he's here and all's well! Congratulations- he's adorable!
Happy new baby! Wish Frazier could meet him. :)
Ok, you just made me cry.
Your blog and the video of Merritt's first bath are going to dehydrate me.
Don't worry though, I am going to get some Powerade to prepare myself for the next post.
Congrats on such a sweet and handsome baby boy!
You made it rain on my face! Congratulations! He is awesome! I hope he gets better!
And this is why I love you. Your writing is fantastic! I just totally bookmarked your blog. And my fark.com username is also a tribute to your awesomeness--over there I'm known as God hates panty lines.
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