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Posts tagged with: hospital

Meet Our Son…


Some of you have been asking about the baby so I thought I’d do one last non-debt related baby post and introduce you to our son.

A couple Friday’s ago, I wet my pants. Embarrassed about my newfound incontinence, I changed my shorts and didn’t tell a soul. Saturday morning, I woke up to wet pants again. Horrified, I changed again. That afternoon, I went to a wedding reception, finished last minute baby supply shopping, and cleaned around the house.

It wasn’t until Sunday, when talking to my husband in our dining room, that more water went running down my legs onto the floor. His eyes grew to the size of saucers, ‘Did your water just break?!?!’

‘Hmm. Is THAT what that’s been the last few days?’ I asked myself out loud.

‘The last few DAYS?!?!?’ he said as he grabbed my hospital bag ‘We’re going to the hospital NOW.’

‘Eh. I’m going to hop in the shower, shave my legs, and put on my make-up first’ I said as I headed to the bedroom.

He stared at me.

‘What??’ I asked.

Rather than fight, and get nowhere, he decided to make quesadillas while I got ready. I could hear him yelling ‘Are you ready YET?!?’ about every 5 minutes from the kitchen.

I think babies know when you get to the hospital because as soon as I walked through the doors…

YOWEEE!! contractions started.

A couple hours later after two particularly nasty contractions, I asked for an epidural and immediately fell asleep.

Fast forward a few more hours, the nurse woke me up to check the progress and discovered baby was ready to go.

The on call doctor strolled in, shook my hand, instructed me to push 5 or 6 times and…

out the baby came…painlessly.

When the doc put my beautiful baby boy on my stomach, all I could think was…

‘Um. Is that it? No seriously. I’ve had root canals that were a heck of a lot more painful. I think I’m missing something.’

My husband looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, ‘You are such a strong woman! Not a peep or pained scream from you! I’m so proud of you’ as he kissed my forehead.

‘Pain? Oh. Um. Yeah. It was, uh, horrible. I thought I might die’ I said.

Shh. He doesn’t need to know.

Sure, there were a few minor complications. Since my water had been broken for a few days, baby and I had to go on antibiotics. I spiked a fever over 100 and my blood pressure seemed to set off the alarms every couple hours when it would drop to 60/40. But overall, very minor stuff.

I was fortunate to have a really awesome delivery experience and I’ll be one of those women who look back and smile when I think of that day.

It’s true. No one can express what it feels like to finally meet your child. Sure, there’s a little bit of terror, but mostly an overwhelming sense of love. I have been so very blessed.

So what did we name him?

Well folks, I’d like to introduce you to…

Cash Ryan

Children and Money…


My sister had to take my mom to Urgent Care yesterday (lest dad be ever so lonely in having health concerns). I called to ask if they needed company while they waited for test results and they declined but asked if I wouldn’t mind stopping to pick up my six year old nephew who was sitting with them at the hospital.

I loaded my nephew into the back of my car and about 15 minutes into our traffic jammed commute, he started crying. 15 minutes after that, he was sobbing. Sure I understand. Grandma is in the hospital, mom is busy, it’s scary, and he’s tired but…

I have absolutely no idea what to do with a crying kid.

You’d think I’d be experienced at this since I’ve got 11 nieces and nephews, but crying in traffic? No clue.

I gave him my iPod which kept him entertained for 10 minutes, until the battery died. After that, more crying.

We sat in traffic for another 40 minutes until my gas light blinked on. “I’m sorry buddy. I’ve got to stop for gas. We’ll be home soon OK?”


Long drawn out sniffle.

“Can I get candy in the gas store?” he whispered.

“Sure buddy. Anything you want.”

“Can I get TWO candies?” he asked, the tears drying in his excitement.

“Possibly cause diabetes? Contribute to childhood obesity? Sure. Why not?” I replied.

“How about a large soda too?” he asked.

I was willing to buy part ownership in Shell gas station if that’s what it took to make him stop crying.

He picked out the two largest bags of candy, filled up a soda cup the size of his head, and off we went to sit in traffic again. There wasn’t a single tear the rest of the way home and I got a huge ‘Thanks Auntie Beks!!’ with a hug before he left (I didn’t mention the sugar overload to my sister – I value my life far too much).

I can say no to myself all day long but to kids? I’m putty. If this experience is any indication of my future financial and health dealings with my own children… I’m dead.