Cinco de Mayo Surprise

Friday I sent my parents this email:

So sick. Caught Mudgie's fever. Praying for a quick recovery...and no baby until my strength returns. Ugh.

Love you both!

Steph

I felt the chills and aches and pains coming on Friday afternoon.  We had a dinner party and a church baptism planned that evening and after going back and forth, I finally conceeded that surely I was contagious and only getting worse, I decided to stay home and rest.  I felt awful.  Downright awful.  Cold and hot, aches and pains, sore throat, and a hacking ugly cough.  But I had time on my side.  I was only 37 1/2 weeks . . .  

Eric got home from the dinner party and baptism where he gallantly filled in for me; as requested before he left he had a movie in his hand for us to watch together.  The moment he put it in the DVD player I felt a contraction.  This wasn't unusual, I had been getting those in the evenings for a couple of weeks now, but the one that followed three minutes later and the next one three minutes later and the next one, and the next one, and the next one were a smidge alarming.

I kept leaning over to Eric and saying, "I'm having contractions three minutes apart and I'm not in the mood."  or "Not tonight, please not tonight."  This went on during the ENTIRE movie.  Contractions anywhere from 2-3 minutes apart, I'd push the button on my watch, note the time, and roll my eyes.  Despite my protest, I knew that this baby was coming whether I had the strength or not.  I gathered a few belongings and we jumped in the car.  I knew I was still several hours away, but I was determined to get an epidural this time.  

I'll spare you the mundane details. . .but yes, I was giddy when I got the epidural.  Yes, I TRIED to sleep for a few hours.  When my water broke I was dilated to a 7.  Three minutes later I was ready to push.  The doctor was frantically trying to get to the hospital.  I breathed through several contractions (by this time I think the epidural had worn off completely on my right side) and finally with one push welcomed Holland Bednar Bacon officially into our family.  7 lbs. 6.4 oz.  20 3/4 inches.  Slightly low blood sugar (thus the bottle).  The most hair on any of our newborn baconbits.  First impression was that he reminded me of Talmage.  

It has been a whirlwind since that moment.  My fever has spiked and broke and spiked and broke.  I've coughed so much I'm convinced that everything around me is covered in an inch of germs.  I've gone through three packages of kleenex, a bottle of advil, and most of a bottle of tylenol.  And that is just the sickness, not the delivery recovery/nursing/sleep deprivation etc.

So it's been a unique couple of days.  Eric has been my champion.  Catering to my every request.  Bringing me food.  Calling the doctor for me when in a irrational moment I stopped taking the tylenol and advil in an attempt to get warm which only made me achy and unable to sleep and frustrated and emotional.  He went to the neighbors and got movies and a humidifier.  He woke up Sunday and took the troops to church & then Monday morning got the kids up and off to school.  Life was good and then Eric came downstairs and announced, "I've got the chills . . . I'm getting sick."  We smiled.  By that afternoon all three of us were in the bed with fevers (Talmage's fever is lingering).  I'm trying desperately to keep the baby away from a coughing Mudge.  We are a sight for sore eyes.  

Today was better.  As long as we are drugged up, we can function and for now functioning is good enough.  We can only hope that tomorrow will be better than today.  I've leaned over to Eric and said several times in the past 48 hours, "I've got a fever and I'm not in the mood."  and we just smile.  Mood or not, this is life.  Can someone pass me some Advil?