I mostly just want to vent, because I'm so frustrated, but I'll let you know about the labor and delivery first.
Ok...so, let's see. First off, the labor. 15 hours long. Oy vey. They almost immediately had to give the epideral, because I was in such pain. I kept getting really bad tremors, and my mom had to talk to me throughout most of the labor. I was really traumatised.
Sharon, Steven, Jen, and my mom were there to coach me through the labor.
Then he came! Things were okay until he stopped breathing. Then the next morning, he stopped breathing again. I stayed in the hospital for 3 days, Alex stayed for 5 days.
It was a perfect amount of time, honestly. I got the chance to learn from the nurses, gain a lot of newborn handy tips, and ate good food.
Steve was there for the labor. The rest of the time, he'd come in, but then he'd leave again to go home and sleep. So he could work. I want to start venting here, but I wont....I'm gonna wait.
I had to go to the hospital this morning, I've had bad abdominal pains that nearly made me pass out. Paramedics came, (oh, hilariousness ensued: the firefighters on site were fighting over who got to hold the baby....lol!)went to the hospital, and found out three things:
1) I'm anemic-just barely under the point of needing a transfusion.
2) I may still have pieces of the placenta inside of me
3) I have a urinary tract infection.
Go figure. So I have antibiotics, Iron pills, and Vicadin. Woot.
Steve showed up, that was no fun. He came from work, stopped at the house first. Then came in. We both waited until the doc finally got done, which, we were there for 6 friggin hours. It was definitely rediculous.
Came home, slept for a couple of hours.
Okay, enough of that. I feel like I'm gonna explode, and I have no one to talk to.
Steve and Walmart are becoming the bane of my existence.
Not even an hour after the baby was born, Steve was debating going into work. He still had time, and could easily make it, which pissed me off extremely. I tried being patient: I thought, well, surely he's just scared of the baby. SO I sympathised, but asked him to stay...besides, he needed his sleep.
Still in the hospital the next day. His baby has stopped breathing twice, and doctors were concerned. Steven-went off to work. I didn't even get to see him that day. He went home, slept, played on the computer, and went to work. Yeah. He plays on the computer, even though death is staring people in the damn face.
He didn't care to come in, to see how Alex or I was doing. Nor did he call. In fact, he avoided us like the plague. Suddenly I was wondering whether or not he was ever gonna be there.
The next day, I was discharged. But I wasn't about to leave without Alex. So I stayed in a tiny room down the hall from ICU, and went in every few hours to hold my baby, and to feed him.
Steve came in that night, after hanging out with his brother, spent about a 1/2 hour with me, held the baby very briefly, and went to work. Worked voluntary overtime, went home, slept all day, surfed the Internet, went to work.
Meanwhile, I'm getting increasingly concerned at the hospial, and so is the staff. The nurses are asking why Steve isn't there, why he hasn't been in the nursery even once, And asking me great questions like, "does he hit you?" "Do you think he's gonna really be there?" "If you're afraid, we have a womens shelter." Alexanders pediatrician asked if he'd be dealing with me exclusively or not.
Over and over, I made excuses, while my own doubts swam around in my head.I couldn't think how many times I wondered if the next phone call would be him saying he couldn't take it, and that he was leaving me.
Sharon came and visited me in the hospital. And then proceeded to berate me and tell me that I was pushing Steve around too much, and that I needed to lay off. I was upset because Steve never cleaned the house, he got his mom to do it. He got her to do our laundry too. Granted, I'm glad it was done, but he could've done it. In fact, it was his responsibility for over 2 weeks. I reminded him from the bed I was stuck in. I actually got up from the bed, and started cleaning, and passed out on the floor, because I was so exhausted.
Nothing was enough for him. When he found out the doctors wanted me in the hospital because I had passed out, he got upset because he didn't want to spend time in the hospital.
I fought with Sharon, telling her that he wasn't doing ANYTHING at all. In fact, he hadn't even started working, He had Friday and Saturday off. The house wasn't touched except for what I forced him to do, only by standing behind him and making sure it was done. I don't want my baby coming home to a gross house!
I had given birth, was still swollen, and recovering slowly. When we came home, I was tired, and not in the mood to do anything.
Oh, but Steve had *plans* with friends. They wanted to *game.*
I said absolutely not. Maybe tomorrow night. But we just came home from the hospital. We had just came home, and Steve had the audacity to ask me if we could go to a friends house. Had he no brains? THEN his parents came over. And Robert immediately started in on me about Steven. Apparantly it had been talked about at great length that I needed to leave Steven alone and stop pushing him.
It's none of their GOD DAMN business!
In the past week, I've gotten maybe 20 hours of sleep. I never sleep more than a few hours at a time, because the baby needs to be feed. The baby needs to be changed. The baby wont sleep. Steve did, in his defense, help over the weekend. He was very good with the baby, too! Once he got confident, he was feeding the baby pumped breast milk, changing diapers, burping, holding....he was doing a great job.
I mean, I know that he has to work to pay the stupid bills and keep us fed. And I know it's unfair of me to ask anything else of him.
But in my physical pain, I wanted no one else but him. It's his touch that soothes me. His voice that penetrates any anger. His smile and eyes that melt my bad moods. And suddenly, he was working. Coming home. Checking his online boards and bulletins. Sleeping. Waking. Checking his bulletins and boards and simultaneously feeding Alex while I got 2-3 hours of sleep. I don't get much more than that: For 2 reasons:
1) The pain.
2) The house. (I have to clean it, and boil bottles, nipples, lids, breast pump stuff) (and eat and make Steve lunches and stuff.)
I guess it's just hurting me that he's so...distant. It's like he's just barely there.
I watched the movie Click several nights ago...and it scares me that Steve is becoming that. A workaholic with no time for family. If the choice comes between work and his family, Steve chooses work. End of discussion. His parents are well pleased.
I don't care about money. I don't care about vacations spots or anything like that. I care about family. I love watching Steven and Alex bond with each other. I love being held at night by Steven, while he whispers he loves me in my ear. I love seeing him laugh easily....and I miss being bugged by him constantly.
It's me that's the problem. He's scared, and making a transition, I suppose. And here I am yelling at him for beign responsible and looking at his priorities with a head thats on right.
Urg. I'm glad I have this blog. Sometimes, I vent, and then realise things, and can fix them.
He has to work. He has to sleep.
I guess I'll just focus on my son. At least I know there that I am needed, and wanted...maybe Steve will come home in the morning and tell me he loves me and hold me tight against him....I miss that.
Alright Streamers, it's almost midnight. Babies sleeping, so I'm gonna eat and try and catch some shut eye.
