SKIN TO SKIN!!

I was taking myself on a little trip down memory lane this morning and came across some pictures that made me bust out laughing. This is probably not the reaction you would expect from a girl looking at the pictures from the day her son was born. But when I saw the look on my face in the picture below (try not to be distracted by all of my chins) the memory of what put that look there came to my mind. Chase's delivery was an easy one. When he came out, I'm pretty sure I said "that was it?" I could have done it again right then, no problem. We loved our doctor (he was a very devout Christian, he even prayed with us before I started pushing that the Lord would watch over me and our baby), and the hospital was amazing. One thing that we quickly learned about this hospital we were delivering in, was that they were WAY into having babies. Not just the medical end of things, but the "experience". I've never been that into the "experience". Call me cold hearted. I never took birthing classes (I really didn't want to hear about all the pain I was going to be in and how this baby was going to get out. I felt better left in ignorance). I just wanted the baby, the act of getting it out was a technicality in my opinion. I wanted NO pain, and deifnently NO mirror. Are you kidding me? Did they want me to pass out? There's a reason that my eyes and my birthing apparatus are at opposite ends. And I'm grateful for that. So here the point of the story:
Chase made his entrance, and I was happy. I watched as Matt cut the cord and was still happy. Just then, the nurse (she kinda came out of nowhere) pulls open the front of my gown exposing me to the room and practically yells "SKIN TO SKIN! SKIN TO SKIN!" grabs gooey, bloody, still kind blue Chase and plops him down right on my bare chest. I guess she was trying to make us bond. She wanted him to know who his mother was I'm guessing. Want to know what I wanted? Not to have gooey uterus juice and blood smeared all over my body. I wanted a nice, clean, weighed, swaddled baby to take into my arms.



And so the fact that my sister caught this expression on my face caused me to bust into fits of laughter sitting here this morning. You can just see how grossed out I am. I'm supposed to be happy right now, but really, all I want at that moment is a shower. I quickly asked the nurse to take him away and clean him up, then bring him back. I could tell she was dissapointed in my lack of enthusiasm about my little goo-meister. So in a motherly way (a way which I'm sure she thought I was lacking in what was supposed to be a very happy moment) she wrapped him up and took him to the sink to wash him. Thank goodness. There were also a few more pictures similar to this one, but I was flashing the camera...so I had to pick the most modest ones.

Here's me trying to put on a happier face for the camera, after the initial shock had worn off. I also had to put up this picture to prove that I really only have 1 chin. (usually).
So what did I learn from this experience? When a nurse comes at you and tries to rip your clothes off in the birthing room...get ready...cause something wet and gooey and warm is coming your way!