Wow.. really? Now, with the first boy, he was a planned C-section, and then I rode a horse and went into labor (I thought it was a really bad upset stomach). By the time I got to the hospital I was one seriously scared, puking little puppy. Don't fuck around with an epidural, put me OUT. I didn't meet him until he was several hours old, but the rest of the family did. I knew the moment we met that something was wrong with him, but he was 12 when he was finally diagnosed with autism. Remember, this is the kid with whom I did NOTHING--no aspirin, certainly no ciggies, no pot, I don't drink so no booze, nothing.
The second boy was a full 3 days labor. I finally got my epi after begging, then becoming exceedingly irate (between pukes), and JUST as I was dilating enough for birth, the epi wore off. He took 29 minutes to come into the world from that point, and nurse with the umbilicus still attached. I would say that we are very, very closely bonded. I smoked when I was pregnant with him. Nothing resembling a regular basis, but I did.
Either way, with both of my boys, I was pretty focused on them. The oldest one required a pretty strong dedication because he was admitted to NICU for ten days due to a very poorly administered vitamin K shot that made his little leg swell up hard and red. When I found that out, they'd already started the antibiotics and his tube feeds, too late, or I would have told them that his reaction is exactly as mine is when I'm given a shot badly. After I was released (5day stay) I went to the hospital several times a day with my breast milk that I had hand-fucking pumped so he could have the best I had to offer.
Hehheh.. I gave milk like a cow, now that I think about it. I ended up giving a lot more milk than he took, so a lot of it, including some of my colostrum, went to the other babies in NICU. I was really happy I could do that for them, especially the day I took my son home.
