C-Section Races

I have lots of memories of my marriage.  It lasted 9 1/2 years.  They weren't all bad -- there was some good in there.  One of my fondest memories is of "C section races".

I am a terrible preggo.  I don't hold onto babies so well, took me years to find out that without some extra progesterone pills in the first few days up to 12 weeks I will miscarry every time.  I also get loads of time off my feet while pregnant due to bedrest.  The bedrest is due to nonstop contractions (12 weeks with the first baby and 16 weeks with the second).

My daughter's pregnancy was particulary tough because I developed gestational diabetes as well and was insulin dependent.  I had loads of needles everday.  I can't say that I was particularly loving life at about that time.

I was so happy when it was time to finally have her.  I had such wonderful thoughts of what motherhood would be like.   The baby that I could hold and love.  The needles, constant contractions, and bedrest would all be worth it.  I had 18 hours of hard labor before she started to have trouble and I ended up with my first c-section.

After my time in the hospital bonding with my daughter it was time to go home.  I had her outfit all picked out and was ready to dress my little one to go home.  This is when I was first introduced to the sport of c-section racing.  If you have ever had a c-section you can understand the complete and utter pain that you feel a few days post surgery when you try to move, walk, cough, pee or GOD forbid try to go number two...

Well my darling husband decided that he would "race" me to the baby.  When I got up to get her, he pushed me out of the way - grabbed her and held her out of my reach.  Yes, a NEWBORN.  I started to cry because I was in pain and he was being a cruel ass.  He "decided" that he wanted to be the one to dress the baby.