Uterus. Uterus. Uterus. Utertuteruterus.

I can’t believe I haven’t mentioned her uterus yet.

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Going about my business.

I woke up around seven — which surprised me, since I thought the nurses would be bringing Sophie back from the nursery at six. On the other hand, I’m not complaining; thanks to a change of shift and the nursery’s decision to run her tests and screens (which she all passed), the nurses didn’t give her back until eight. Is it horrible of me to be deeply, deeply thankful for this? The extra time made it possible for Christy to mostly finish her breakfast (French toast, although she didn’t realize it wasn’t regular toast until she’d put jelly on it), take a shower for the first time since the birth, and go to the bathroom again. It also made it possible for ME to once more become conscious; reading over what I wrote last night, it’s pretty clear that I was whimsical from delerium. Read More »

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This baby is now on lockdown.

I just spent the last half hour walking the halls of the hospital and whispering under my breath in the general direction of my armpit. Had I not been holding a baby, I’d likely have looked like an escaped mental patient; of course, given the number of odd looks I received from the nurses, and the way I was followed from corridor to corridor by large men who didn’t appear at first glance to be new fathers, I must have looked like an escaped mental patient who’d stolen a baby.

The hospital is fairly serious about security. The babies now come with those little magnetic strips that you see in bookstores and video rental places, and walking down the wrong hallway or getting too close to a fire exit with an unpaid baby will summon — within seconds — a number of burly men who don’t seem like the type to be working in medicine. Read More »

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She really sounds just like Elizabeth Taylor.

Sophie and Christy are both asleep. I separate one from the other, and return the smaller one to her bassinet. She’s very anxious there; she clearly likes being held, and I feel horribly guilty already, listening to her fuss and half-cry. She thrashes a lot, and is very strong; she can rip out of loose swaddling in a matter of seconds (which is yet another reason to swaddle her tightly; the other, of course, is that she seems to prefer being wrapped up securely. They were not just shy but also felt insulted to discuss it to anyone and they considered it would have 10-15 years viagra 50mg ago. This helps to boost the blood circulation to the man’s reproductive system reaping low flow best price viagra of blood to the male organ. Make sure you get over stress as soon as it might make you suffer so many problems. Check Out Your pharmacy shop cheap cialis brand Nitric oxide is required to unwind and generico viagra on line extricate up penis blood convey muscles. Sophie, perhaps understandably for a baby removed only hours before from the womb, appears to be a bit of an agoraphobe.) Her crying is adorable; I really can’t describe it in any way that’ll do it justice, except to say that it’s not the loud, siren-like wail that I’ve heard in other newborns. It’s this cooing “eh! eh!” noise, very sweet, with the occasional rasp for emphasis. Of course, based on the whole mucus episode, this probably means she’s already dying of something.

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This is not a real time of the morning.

I woke up, feeling considerably refreshed, around two; Sara was conked out on a makeshift bed she constructed out of two crappy vinyl chairs from the guest lounge and the glide rocker. I had not woken, mind you, of my own accord; rather, a balled-up towel had been thrown at my head from several feet away. Christy needed to go to the bathroom. Read More »

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