Saturday, December 4, 2010

Oliver John Nichols

Our little Ollie arrived Friday, December 3rd, at 7:52 a.m. via scheduled c-section! He was 7 pounds, 15 ounces and 20 inches long.

It was so strange just strolling in to the hospital in the wee hours of the morning to have a baby, calmly checking in and being shown to our room. A handful of nurses came in and did all their pre-surgery procedures, asking a million questions and having me sign a stack of forms. Then came all the unpleasant necessities - the IV, epidural, and being prepped for surgery. Out of the three of those the IV was the worst; at one point I was in so much pain I almost passed out. Three times the anesthesiologist had to give me medication to raise my blood pressure so I wouldn't faint.

I got more and more nervous as the morning progressed, and by the time they wheeled me into the operating room all I could think about was how much I didn't want to go through with the surgery. My doctor was really nice and calmed me down a bit, as was the anesthesiologist who helped Sean when he nearly passed out while watching the procedure. Picture my 6'4" tall husband in a white jumpsuit sprawled out on the floor in the middle of the O.R. to keep himself from losing consciousness. I could not stop laughing. To his credit, Sean was going on almost no sleep and hardly had anything to eat that morning; he can usually watch things like that without it turning his stomach.

As I knew it would, all my fears and trepidations about the surgery flew out the window when I heard Oliver's first cry. The doctor held my little purple baby over the drape so I could get my first peek at him and I was instantly smitten. As soon as they had him cleaned Sean brought him to me. My first thought was, "I can't believe how tiny he is!" My second thought was, "He looks just like Taylor!" So many of his features resemble that of his big brother when he was first born.

I kissed Oliver on the head and then Sean went with him to the nursery while they finished with my surgery. I was then taken to my recovery room where I was able to rest for one long hour before I would be admitted to the Mother/Baby wing and get to hold my little one for the first time.

One thing I was so happy we did differently this time around was ask that no one be waiting at the hospital when Oliver was born. That way we had some time alone with him and could get settled and ready before anyone showed up. It was also a means for me to try to establish breastfeeding in a more calm environment. I've been amazed at how well Oliver has done with nursing; he took to it right away and we've hardly had any problems at all. In fact the only problem I've had is that at times he wants to nurse constantly. I'm so happy that things have gone so smoothly with him.

Recovery has been faster than I was expecting, but it's still been a process. The first night after Oliver was born I was on a Morphine drip which yielded some pretty hilarious results. Apparently when I'm on Morphine I drift in and out of consciousness and talk in my sleep. At one point I proclaimed very loudly and sternly, "Nobody cares about Norway!" I also rambled about being in the same time zone as someone else, and said something about not being able to kneel a certain way. At one point I woke up yelling, "Ow!" Sean asked what was wrong, afraid my incision was bothering me, to which I replied that I'd just been hit in the chin with a baseball. I was the comic relief of the evening, to say the least.

Being in the hospital for several days has been rough at times. I miss the comforts of home, being able to rest without constantly being interrupted with doctors and nurses, and above all I miss my Tay Bug. He comes up at least twice a day to visit, and he's always excited to see us and sad to leave. I'm not quite sure what he thinks of his baby brother yet; we'll have to see how he reacts when we bring Oliver home with us.

My sister came up on Friday and took the first photo of us as a family of four. I'll skip all the snarky things I could say about a certain woman in this photo who looks like she got hit by a train.

One of the things I absolutely love is when Oliver is wide awake and alert for a while. He's got such big beautiful eyes and the sweetest little face. I'm so in love with him!

We should be headed home either Monday evening or, more likely, Tuesday morning. I can't wait to get home and settled and spend some quality time with all three of my boys. I've still got quite a bit of recovering to do and I know I'll feel better just being in my own environment.

Thanks to everyone for the congratulatory emails, phone calls, texts, and visits. We love you all!


Heather said...


Christine said...

Yeah I've been stalking your blog for days I'm so happy to hear everything is going so well and he is so so so beautiful!

Rosalee said...

Congratulations!!! He is adorable! I hope you are recovering well.

Nicole said...

Oh Anne--i love the pictures!! he is just so, so sweet--can i hold him PLEASE!!!! take care of yourself and get feeling better. I'm so glad that he's a great eater! Ky was like that and it was SO nice. I will try giving you a call sometime, but i don't want to bug you......we will talk soon! congrats again---you are amazing and will be a superb mother of 2....I can already tell. :-)

MadHouse said...

He is beautiful! AND I am of the opinion that, though all babies are sweet, not all are beautiful. Good job, mama!

Vicki said...

Congrats!!! He is perfect!!

You have a beautiful little family! :-)