Well, now that I've got a little time...

I can share the story of Christopher's birth. Or Kit. I kinda like that nickname. I'll probably come up with something else, but it'll do for now.

About a week ago, my daughter thought she was going into labor. She went to the hospital, they said her water had broke and she had a bladder infection. Apparently, after some IV fluids and antibiotics, they sent her home telling her to come in if she developed a fever. The week drug on with her having contractions but not strong ones and with no regularity. Finally, the doctor told her to come in on Tuesday morning (yesterday) and if she hadn't gone into labor before that time, he'd induce her.

They started the pitocin at around 8 that morning and it took a couple of hours for the contractions to get hard enough for her to be unable to sit and talk through them. She didn't want to get up and walk around claiming she'd been walking for days before hand. Her version of walking, however, was more of a shuffle. Her contractions were still irregular after about 4 hours and she was only progressed to about a 4 so the doctor came in and broke her water. After that, things picked up.

Now I might have said earlier that this child of mine has no tolerance for pain. I am serious, folks. She can't tolerate pain at all. She went from 4 cm to 6 cm pretty quickly. Between 6 and 8, was faster - or so it seemed. She was cursing loudly with every contraction. She wasn't cursing at anyone, thankfully, just exercising every swear word she knows. It was awful. Then at about 8 cm, she decided that it didn't matter that her mother, sister, grandmother and aunt were in the room with her (along with attendant medical personnel). She threw off the sheet and was laying there, spread eagle, for the world to see. There are some sights a mother just isn't interested in. *shuddering with the memory*

When she was almost fully dilated, the doc said there was just a rim of cervix left but that the baby was "sunny side up" or not in the best birthing position. We got Alex to get onto her hands and knees but she sort of slumped into a knees/chest position. We seriously thought she was going to take a header off the bed. But finally the anesthesiologist arrived and got her epidural in. Of course, by that time, it was so late that it didn't really kick in until well after the birth.

After Christopher James Kia Martin was born - and oh my gosh he was blue for so long!! - his father came into the room and got to be the first to hold him. My in-laws were not happy about that. He broke up with our daughter apparently because he'd rather smoke dope than hold down a decent job. He wasn't there for her during any of the pregnancy or the birth. The girl he left Alex for is now pregnant too. Lots of awful drama that I frequently wish was just a bad dream.

For some reason, and I really do not know what it is, I don't feel as attached to this grandchild. I'm far more scared that this child will be abandoned by his mother or be removed from his mother's care at some point. I'm scared that in the time of our lives when we're finally close to an empty nest and couple-time we've never had, Mike and I might have to raise another baby. I'm scared that she'll take off with him and we'll never know WHAT happened to him.

But for now, I've got 5 rolls of film to get developed. Yes. I'm old-fashioned. I use film. I'll try to get a digital pic today so I can share with everyone!