Post Childbirth: The First 24 Hours

So to recap a bit from the last post, Eddie was born at 12:05am on Thursday, about 50 hours after I first got to the hospital for a planned labor induction that ended in a C-Section. This was the exact opposite way I had envisioned this going and it turns out it was only going to get worse. And here is my usual warning, if you get queasy when it comes to women’s parts and fluids coming out of bodies, I recommend you read with caution.

As I lay there strapped to the table still drugged up from the surgery, I barely got to look at the little life they had just taken out of me. I didn’t get to hold him or touch him since I couldn’t really feel my arms. They told me they were going to take him to the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit). Wait, what? You’re doing what? What for? What’s wrong with him? I had heard them say he got a 9 out of 10 on the Apgar test, so he couldn’t be that bad off. Turns out they wanted to keep him there for 48 hours to do a bacteria culture test to make sure he didn’t have an infection because I had spiked a fever near the end of the labor. TWO. DAYS. HIS FIRST TWO DAYS. My heart absolutely sank. All of the happy, rosy images of my baby being set on me after birth and starting to breastfeed and having that cuddly special time were quickly disappearing. Gone, they were gone. GONE. Eddie’s first food wouldn’t come from me, it would come from a smelly bottle of formula. To add insult to injury, the NICU nurse came to talk to me and ask me a few questions. The main one was about pacifiers. I explained to her that my goal was to exclusively breastfeed and therefore wanted to limit the number of nipples he was given. I also explained I would go over there as often as I could to breastfeed, recovery from surgery permitting. In the most snarky tone she could muster she asked me, “Well, what I am supposed to do when he cries???” I don’t know lady, you’re the professional FIGURE IT OUT. Now my hopes of successfully breastfeeding were going out the window as well. I was alone and pissed and scared. At some point I asked the anesthesiologist if I could close my eyes as I felt really tired. He was really great, talked to me a lot and comforted me. At some point I woke back up and felt like I was going to puke. He had told me to start making a lot of noise if that was a possibility, so through the oxygen mask I started yelling “PUKE PUKE PUKE PUKE!” He ran over with something for me to puke in and I did. And back to sleep.

I woke up in the recovery area, and they asked me if I wanted morphine. Well, what they really asked was to rate my pain on a scale from 1-10. You quickly learn what answers get you drugs. She warned me that right now I would want to take the drugs before the pain started getting bad, so as soon as I felt the anesthetic wearing off to ask for the morphine. I asked about seeing Eddie and was basically told not until I was more mobile. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever see him. After a little while and two doses of morphine they took me over to the maternity ward. At this point, the pain was creeping up on me but they had to wait for the morphine drip to get there from Fort Knox... I mean, the pharmacy. My husband and a friend of mine were sitting with me and I kept telling them to go tell the nurse that the pain was starting to get really bad. They didn’t seem impressed. At some point it hurt so bad I started screaming and didn’t stop. If nothing else I figured it might get the night shift nurses to call the pharmacy and tell them to get off their ass and hurry the hell up. I have a pretty high tolerance for pain but this was the worst pain I have ever felt. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they came with the morphine. But first they had to lock it into a box on the IV pole. It seems they really have to keep an eye on the narcotics. I kind of wonder if the reason it took so long is that they needed to find an armed security guard to walk it up to the maternity ward and couldn’t find one. Then they handed me a button and said it would give me a dose whenever I pushed it, but not more than one per ten minutes. I could see the clock on the wall without my glasses (I’m near blind so it had to be a big clock) and pushed it every ten minutes until the pain had been reduced enough for me to sleep.

When I woke up, the first thing I wanted to do was go to the NICU. Remember, I haven’t held Eddie yet. Ever. It takes two people to push me over there. First off, the doors at the hospital are just big enough for a wheelchair (I couldn’t walk yet) and someone had to push me. Also, they don’t stay open. Dumb. Second, I am basically chained to the pole with the morphine. It’s going to be a day before I can switch to regular pain killers. The other IV fluids they have going into me (drip and antibiotics) could have been taken off the pole and carried on the chair. But the morphine is locked onto the pole. So there has to be another person to open doors and push the pole. It’s a big fat pain in the ass and of course, we have to go to the opposite side of the floor. Then I have to scrub up, not easy when I have trouble getting up and standing. They are really making me work to see my kid. A less determined person might have just said to forget it and go back to the room.

Every new parent thinks their kid is the most perfect thing they have ever seen, I’m no different. Most newborns to me look funny and not cute. Eddie didn’t have that newborn weirdness to him. I was relieved I wasn’t repulsed by him. I’ve never been much of a baby person and don’t like to hold other people’s babies, but this was different. I was worried about that all during my pregnancy. This felt right in a way in doesn’t when the baby isn’t yours. After holding him for a little bit I started to try and breastfeed. By this time he had been given several bottles of formula and pretty much had a pacifier in his mouth whenever there wasn’t a bottle in it. From everything I had read, I was in for an uphill battle. Added to that the fact that I have pretty large breasts to begin with, which can be hard for a baby to deal with. Men like getting a large breast stuck in their face, babies, not so much. I was also hampered by the many wires they had attached to him and the IV that was in my wrist. I was having difficulty getting him to latch on and not just take the nipple. Then the nurses descended on me, the supposed “breastfeeding experts”. The thing they weren’t experts in is how the mom is going to feel when suddenly everyone is grabbing her breast and trying to stick it in baby’s mouth. And as they got frustrated it wasn’t working, I got frustrated with them. I knew at this point he wasn’t going to starve, so I was trying to take it easy. I wasn’t too successful and feeding him this time around and I was getting tired from all the effort, so I went back to my room.

I did this several more times that day with differing levels of success. Of course, no matter how successful or how long I fed him, they stuck a bottle in him on their schedule anyway. It’s not too encouraging when whatever I did to feed him didn’t really matter to them. It was really exhausting to move that much with staples in my abdomen. It hurt to get up and take steps, but they really push you to do that. They want to know as soon as you poop, it’s a way of knowing your abdomen muscles are working properly. That wasn’t happening yet. I did have some gnarly gas though. And it really hurt to sneeze or cough. Ow.

That evening, I was planning to go attempt to feed Eddie again and the NICU called the maternity ward and said, “Don’t bother coming, we are just going to give him a bottle”. That was about the end of my patience. I lost it. I even threw my phone on the floor, it almost broke (it did damage it pretty good). I started to wonder why I was even going over there at all. And this was still only the first day of me being a mother. Later that night a friend of mine came to visit and cheered me up. I was really starting to feel sorry for myself. She convinced me I needed to go right now to the NICU even if I didn’t try and breastfeed, just go hold my son for a while. I had also mentioned to her I felt stupid because every time I went over there I forgot to take pictures. She helped the nurse get me over there and came with me into the NICU. As soon as we got there, I realized I once again forgot my phone. My friend, being ever the smart cookie, just smiled at me. And then pulled my phone out of her pocket. Some of those pictures of Eddie and I are still some of my all time favorites. I held Eddie until 12:05am Friday morning. Happy first day of life!

To be continued... Next time, a contrast of nursing styles: the nurse from hell and the most awesome nurse on the planet.

Little Tujunga Canyon Road

I was out writing a car rally yesterday and came upon this shrine at a turnout on a Little Tujunga Canyon Road. It was quite touching. It's for a girl named Sarah Alarid. Her car went down the ravine near the Bear Divide Access Road on January 1st of this year. She was only 19. Her birthday is this Saturday. My heart goes out to her friends and family.

Valentine's Day

Easter

The view from this turnout is pretty amazing. 

The Struggle of Childbirth

Warning: This post will use fun words like vagina, cervix, uterus, placenta, catheter, and other things that may not be for the easily grossed out. It’s about a baby being ripped out of someone else’s body. You have been thusly warned.

Childbirth is not for the weak. No matter what the situation it is a struggle. It’s kind of amazing that the human race has lasted as long as it has considering this is what we need to do to reproduce. I read everything I could and envisioned what I would do in different situations. Let me tell you, I did not run enough scenarios to prepare me for what actually happened.

My due date was Friday, July 15. My baby shower was on Sunday, July 17. What can I say, I live on the edge. I had an appointment on July 21, if nothing happened by then they were going to schedule an induction. I went to that appointment still pregnant, still no signs of labor. I wanted to put off the induction as long as they would let me to see if I went into labor naturally. I knew my husband had some work appointments over the weekend so I talked them into waiting until Monday night, July 25. I got to the hospital around 9pm. They did an ultrasound to make sure the baby was facing the right way and things like the placenta and umbilical cord were in the right place. Or at least not the wrong place. Baby looked great, everything was great. About 10pm they gave me the first drugs to jump start labor. It would take about 12 hours to gage if it was starting to work. My husband went home and I slept. Next morning: nothing. So they gave me another dose. Another 12 hours, only a slight dilation of the cervix. This entire time they had me on an IV drip and were carefully measuring my urine output. I kind of felt like a toddler being toilet trained. They gave me different drugs, and something started to happen. Enough that they were able to insert a tube through the vagina and blow up two balloons, one on either side of the cervix. The idea is that it would put pressure on the cervix to encourage it to open up.

This was NOT comfortable in any way. Also, I had the end of the tube taped to the inside of my thigh. Ug. I was so happy when it fell out while I was peeing. My water broke or at least partially broke at that time as well. Conveniently, I was sitting on the toilet when that happened. Less mess to clean up. Now they started the good drugs in earnest. This somewhere around Tuesday night or Wednesday morning. I was dilated 4 centimeters and it was starting to look promising.

The contractions started really coming at this point. They were bad. Worse than I imagined. Worse than I could have ever imagined. I have a pretty high tolerance for pain. I was able to handle the pain, but I couldn’t have followed any kind of directions or tried to push. My poor husband was freaking out seeing me in that much pain. I know he wished he could have taken it all away. Love him so much! The worst thing was that the contractions were coming but the cervix was stubbornly not dilating. Finally I couldn’t take the pain anymore and had the epidural. I think if things had been progressing faster I would have done it without drugs like I intended, but I didn’t see an end in sight. And I can tell you, I do NOT look forward to ever getting one of those again. It does not feel good. The worst part of the whole thing was the anesthesiologist asking me if he had the right location on my back. Um, dude, you’re the one looking at it, and you’re the professional. How should I know? Got the catheter put in at this point as well. At least I no longer have to get up to go to the bathroom, right?

So now the contractions are still coming but I am in little to no pain. I have still only dilated 6 centimeters. It’s Wednesday night, July 27. I came in and they started the drugs 48 hours ago. I have heard women screaming from down the hall followed by baby cries at least three times, if not more. I am ready for this kid to be out. If the contractions are allowed to go on much longer the constant squeezing of the uterus will start to put the baby into serious distress. I also was starting to run a low fever and they had ice packs all over me. They finally gently suggest that maybe they should do a C-Section.

My worst nightmare has just come true.

C-Section. The words ring out in my brain. C-Section. No. No. C-section. Nononononononono. No. C-section. NO! NO! NO!

At this point, I have quite a crowd in my room as earlier in the day when there was the big jump in cervix opening everyone thought it was going to happen soon. My dad was there as well as two good friends of mine, and of course my husband. My first thought when they suggested a Caesarean was to just flat out tell them no, this kid is coming out of the hole that is already in my uterus, thank you very much, you don’t need to make another one. But then I thought about the fact that the hole nature had provided was not getting big enough for the kid. So I shooed everyone except the husband out of the room so we could talk about it.

Thank God I am blessed with the most amazing, supportive husband on the planet. Who also isn’t afraid to admit he was just as scared as I was.

We decided about 11:20 to do the C-section. They didn’t seem like they were in a complete rush at that point so the freaking out husband and dad-to-be asked if he had time to go outside and collect his thoughts (I wished I could have done that too!). All of the sudden they are wheeling me into the operating room. I kept saying, “You are not cutting me open until my husband gets back! Where is he? Wait!!!” They kept assuring me he was right outside. Good thing he came in before they started doing anything or they would have had a crazy woman on their hands. It seems that something on the baby monitor made them move with a bit more urgency. Getting the epidural turned out to be a good thing as that was already set up. At this point, it is about 11:45pm. So... will the kid be “born” on the 27th or the 28th? I can see the big clock on the wall even without my glasses on. It inches ever closer to midnight and they are starting to work on me. I can hear the doctors and nurses talking but I’m tuning them out because if I listen to what they are saying I’ll get grossed out knowing they are talking about me. I am just concentrating on my husband and trying to talk to him as much as possible. Then the clock hits 12:01 and I at least know the birthdate, even if I still don’t know the gender yet. 4 minutes later, they announce it’s a boy and I can hear him crying. My husband was convinced it was going to be a girl, and I can still hear him say, a little unbelievingly, “I have a son?” Finally, I could put a name to this thing that had been kicking me for so many months. Meanwhile, I’m still strapped to the table as they continue to put everything back together and staple me up. And thus the clueless journey began. Little Edward Russell had come into the world.

Edward Russell shortly after
being yanked out of me

Next time: the switch from labor and delivery to the maternity ward.

Selfie at 28 weeks

28 weeks pregnant, the start of the third trimester. I am really starting to feel pregnant. 3 months to go.

Day trip to Santa Barbara

The Pyramid at the cemetery

Every year on April 5, or the Friday or Monday closest to April 5, I go to Santa Barbara for the day. It’s a pleasant 90 mile drive from my house and is under a 2 hour drive, assuming the freeways are not a complete disaster (I know, that can be hard to assume on any given day, a lot of it is knowing what time to go to avoid traffic). What is special about this day? It’s my mom’s birthday. She would have been 72 this year. When my great grandmother died, my grandparents buried her in what I think is the most beautiful cemetery ever, the Santa Barbara Cemetery Association. They also bought enough plots for themselves and my mom. Interestingly enough, they only got four plots despite the fact my mom was married to my dad already. It’s worked out since my grandparents were both cremated they share a plot, and there is still one available for my dad.

It was such a huge blessing that they did this. When my mom died unexpectedly in a car accident in 2000 (see the post I Miss My Mom for the story) it was one less thing I needed to worry about. It was fitting that she be buried in Santa Barbara where she grew up, a place she loved, even if part of me would have liked to have her closer to me. After my mom died I started going to visit on her birthday. I try to go at various other times, but I never miss a birthday. It was less depressing than going on the anniversary of her death. It’s become quite a tradition. I stop at the grocery store nearby that has a flower department to get some flowers. I have found a yummy Mexican place to get lunch to bring with me (but not when it’s a Monday, they are closed and I have to find some other place). I then head over to the cemetery and have a picnic lunch and sit and enjoy the beautiful view. The cemetery is on the cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean to the south. There are mountains to the north. All in all it is really pretty and relaxing. After I eat lunch I usually stroll around the cemetery. It’s been there a while and it’s interesting to look at all the old grave markers. Over the years the basic traditions have remained but I try to find something new to do every time I’m there.

Two years ago I was about 6 months pregnant, same as this year. Last year was the first time bringing Eddie to meet his grandmother. It was a bit of an adventure bringing an eight month old with me. He was still eating mushy solid food and still needed a bottle feeding several times a day. It was a lot more work packing for that trip than any one before it.

So much room to run, Mama!

Packing food for the trip is a lot easier now that Eddie is eating normal food. I brought some fruit for snacking and lots of cookies - we were celebrating his grandma’s birthday after all. I also put a container of milk and one of juice for the day. I made sure and ran Eddie around before leaving so he would get a good nap in the car. He slept all the way there. We got there just in time for lunch. The Vons I stop at had a special on daffodils, so I got a whole bunch of them to take with me. We then picked up our burrito at my favorite place. It’s big enough that Eddie and I can share one. We got to the cemetery and the weather could not have been better. I had been following the weather reports that said it was expected to be quite windy starting Friday, so I was afraid it was going to be gusty. Fortunately it was quite still and sunny, about 75 out. Gorgeous Santa Barbara weather. One of the interesting things when you go on the same day every year is how different the weather can be. The start of spring in Southern California can bring a lot of different conditions. I can’t remember it ever raining, but there have been some cold, overcast days and one year the wind was gusting 30-35 MPH. Those aren’t the ideal days. This year was an ideal day. I put out the blanket and got lunch ready. Eddie was more interested in running around than eating, which was ok since I knew he would snack all day. My mom is in the middle of a large meadow area with no above ground gravestones, so there is nowhere for him to hide. 

After we were done eating, I put Eddie in the stroller to take a walk around. When he saw the boats out on the water, he got excited. He kept pointing and saying "Bo! Bo!". Often I walk around with no destination in mind, but today I did. I had noticed when I drove in there was a service today. For some reason I always like to go watch - from a distance of course. It’s a little painful because I remember what it was like being in the cemetery right after my mom died with all that fresh pain. But it’s also comforting because it does get easier as time goes by and you learn how to deal with the pain. So I walked over in that direction and found a place for Eddie and I to sit that was not intruding on the service. It was a small one. There was one year I was there and there was a huge service. There was even a mariachi band.

We walked back to the car and loaded up. The next stop was the house my mom grew up in. In all the years I’ve been driving up there I’ve never thought of driving by. My grandparents lived there until the mid to late 1970s. They moved from Santa Barbara, with its beautiful weather and only a few hours drive from where I grew up, to Phoenix, Arizona, with its miserably hot summers and either long drive or plane ride. But I’m not bitter, really. It’s a cute little house at the end of a cul-de-sac. Nothing super special. I wonder how my life would have been different if this was the house I associated my grandparents with instead of their house in Arizona.

I had decided to take the back roads home since I wasn’t going straight home. Plus by the afternoon the freeways are terrible. I had to go to Moorpark to work a checkpoint for a car rally. It was the first Friday of the month, and every month we put on a two hour car rally called the First Friday Niter. I know, clever name. So I followed CA-192 (CA for California Highway) out of Santa Barbara (much of it is also called Foothill Road, because it’s at the foothills of the mountains north of Santa Barbara). I then turned onto CA-150, which goes around Lake Casitas and through Ojai, ending at CA-126 in Santa Paula. At this point, I am in an area I know pretty well thanks to car rallying. I jogged over to South Mountain Road and then right on Balcom Canyon Road. The checkpoint was on Stockton Road and Balcom Canyon Road, so I wasn’t far. However, I needed to eat, so I headed down to CA-118 to go into Moorpark to find dinner.

Eddie is serious
when it comes
to his fries

There are lots of places to eat along there, I think there is one of every major fast food chain. I knew there was an In ‘N Out there, so that was my first choice unless something else caught my eye. If you aren’t familiar with In ‘N Out, it’s a California legend. Fresh made burgers and you can actually watch them take potatoes and make them into french fries right in front of you. Eddie loves fries, and even more he loves ketchup to dip them in. Or even eat the ketchup without the fries, either way. He will sneak fries from in front of you if you don't give him enough. The only problem I have with In 'N Out doesn't have Joanna's Bathroom Parent Seal of Approval. Although they always have a large stall bathroom that fits an overactive todder and stroller if need be, they never seem to have a baby changing table in there. But I guess I shouldn't complain too much, at least there is enough room to easily do it on the floor and the bathrooms were neat and clean. It was a really fun day. Eddie and I both had a good time.

Happy Birthday, Mom.

Pictures from my Santa Barbara trip

Bonus post! I went to Santa Barbara yesterday to visit my mom and here are some pictures from the trip. More about the trip coming on Tuesday.

On the 101 to Santa Barbara

Santa Barbara Cemetery

Eddie

Our lunch spot

My mom's gravestone

The mountains in the background

I'm going to go over there, Mom

Lots of room to run

Eddie was excited about the boats

Going for a walk after lunch

 There are some really neat old gravestones and family mausoleums, including a pyramid!

After the visit to the cemetery, I went to see the house my mom grew up in.

We ended the day by going to In 'N Out. Yum.

Eddie is very serious about his fries

Yum, Mama!

Going to the doctor

Olive View Medical Center

I had a doctor’s appointment this week. I think I have had more doctor’s appointments in my two combined pregnancies than I had in the rest of my life. If you remember from my pregnancy post last week, I don’t have health insurance. But I’m not complaining, because in Los Angeles County there is a pretty good system for residents that don’t have insurance and don’t qualify for Medi-Cal if you got to the county-run hospitals/clinics. I go to Olive View Medical Center in Sylmar. It’s not the closest county hospital to my house but it is the nicest. For prenatal care, I pay $60 for doctor visits and ultrasounds which also includes any lab work that is ordered. After seven visits it’s free, kind of like using a customer loyalty card. For delivery of the baby, it’s $2000. That includes if it is a natural birth, induced labor, C-section, everything. When Eddie was born I was there a week. Labor was induced, after 50 hours they did a C-section, then I was there for another 4 days. Eddie was in NICU for 48 hours. The entire bill was $2000. I’ve known people with insurance that have paid more. And what’s even better is the prenatal care is really good. Not that it doesn’t have it’s drawbacks.

Going to a government run health care facility means you are going to wait. It doesn’t matter what time your appointment is. I’ve been the first appointment of the morning and still waited. It’s seems to be a different amount of time always. Sometimes I don’t have to wait in the waiting room at all, but then I wait in the patient room. Sometimes I’ve had to wait over an hour in the waiting room. When I have to get blood drawn it usually means taking a number, waiting in the lobby, then when my number is called I go in the lab and give them my info and then I have to sit and wait some more. If you have to get something from the pharmacy, that’s just a nightmare. It’s usually about a three hour process. So I always bring some kind of entertainment, usually a book. Now that I have to bring Eddie along I have to make sure he is entertained as well. It also means that if I have to wait long enough it’s going to overlap with lunch as well, so I pack a lunch to eat in the cafeteria. It seems like a lot of work just to go to the doctor.

However, because it’s a teaching hospital (connected with UCLA), the doctors you see are knowledgeable and up on all the latest information. In other departments you often see a resident first and then a follow up with the doctor. In prenatal you only see the doctor. They take time to answer all your questions no matter how mundane or silly they may seem. I don’t feel like they are just seeing a number, most of the time when I see a doctor or a nurse several visits in a row they remember me.

Of course, this week’s visit was completely abnormal in the wait time department. I was in and out of the office within an hour. That is unheard of. They always want a urine sample when you get there, and I walked out of the bathroom and the nurse was already looking for me to put me in a patient room. The doctor I saw actually read my file from Eddie’s delivery, and we talked about different options for this time around. I’ll detail my childbirth experience later, it was an ordeal. Because it ended in a C-section as a result of, among other things, not dilating after attempting to induce labor, they are recommending another C-section. I’d rather avoid that if at all humanly possible. But I’d also like to not have to induce labor again if possible as well. So it’s a tough decision that we have to make about what the plan will be. But despite the quick visit, I didn’t feel rushed. Plenty of opportunities to ask questions. All my vitals are normal, all lab tests are normal, fundal measurement was fine, and baby’s heartbeat was around 150, and baby movements are good. It’s always nice when there isn’t anything that the doctor is concerned about.

I’ve had several doctors tell me my pregnancies, both the first one and this one, are almost too normal. Man, it feels good to be normal. Now if I can just have a normal delivery.

The Wonder of WonderCon

As I’m sure you know, this past Sunday was Easter. My husband and I are both pretty active in our church and rarely miss a Sunday. I help teach Sunday School and he works the sound board two Sundays a month. So you would expect us to be in church on Easter morning, right? Not this year! WonderCon was in Anaheim this weekend. For those of you non-geeks, WonderCon is an annual comic book convention held in the spring. It’s usually held in San Francisco, but due to construction and scheduling conflicts it has been in Anaheim for the past two years. Now, I was a little annoyed they planned it for Easter weekend, and even more annoyed that the one thing I really, really wanted to go to was a panel at 11am on Sunday. But since WonderCon may move back to Northern California, this was even more of a one time opportunity and we decided to play hooky from church and go get our geek on.

The 2013 eggs

My husband Sam got the afternoon off work on Friday to go. I decided not to go as dragging Eddie out of the house on an extended trip with lots of unpredictability can be stressful. He’s an easy going kid so I probably normally over worry about things like that. Plus a lot of walking around while pregnant, not exactly the most fun thing. I did use the opportunity to get the Easter Eggs dyed, however. I love hard boiled eggs and dying eggs is just plain old fun. I usually seem to get around to it about two weeks after Easter. Sam had a great time at the convention. He got a page and a sketch from a favorite artist. He also met up with some friends to go to a panel and dinner afterwards.

Panel for Much Ado

We got up early Sunday morning to get ready to go. We didn’t have to pay for Eddie but we did need to stop by registration and get him a child badge. We then got in line for the Much Ado About Nothing panel. In case you don’t know, Joss Whedon filmed Much Ado last year with a pretty amazing cast. It is due to come out in June of this year. And if you don’t know who Joss Whedon is, shame on you. Nathan Fillion was slated to be on the panel but couldn’t make it. That was a bummer, but I still wanted to go to the panel as I tend to like Whedon and I love Much Ado About Nothing. Eddie was getting pretty fussy as the panel went on. It was near his lunch time and he was also getting pretty tired by then. I fed him as much as I could while sitting in our seats. Eventually we got out of our seats and put him in the stroller and then went off to the side to try and get him to sleep, which he did.

Convention floor

After that we wandered around the convention floor. It was a lot bigger and a lot more crowded than I thought it would be. Lots of neat stuff for sale. I could have spent a fortune if I had let myself. We ended up buying a really cute Batman kid’s cup since clueless mom forgot to pack the sippy cup. After a few hours, Sam met up with a friend and went to another panel. I took Eddie outside to eat some more and then and wandered around some more. I made it over to Artist’s Alley. I really could have spent a small fortune here, or maybe even a large fortune. I did pick up the card of one artist that had some amazing dragon paintings. I would love to get some prints for the kid’s room. We also headed over to the large T-shirt seller to get some shirts for Eddie. Ended up with a cool X-Men shirt and a Hot Wheels shirt. We then headed up to the panel Sam went to, Spotlight on Amanda Conner and Jimmy Palmiotti. It was a little strange that almost all the lights were off, and the darkest part of the room was right over Amanda and Jimmy. As a result, I didn't get a very good picture of the panel. Eddie got a little fussy near the end of this panel too, but not as bad. Remember how I said he is always an easy going kid and I was probably worrying too much? Yeah, not really. At least if he is in the stroller and we are moving, he is quiet and seems to be happy. Eddie loves Batman, it was one of his early words, so one thing we came home with is a Mr. Potato Head Batman. Too much awesomeness. We convinced ourselves we were “buying it for Eddie”. After a half hour more of wandering the floor, I was ready to drop so we headed back to the car.

Eddie as Batman

Convention floor eating area

The Anaheim Convention Center bathrooms definitely do not get Joanna’s Parent Seal of Approval. The one I was in was pretty big. There was a large area right as you enter that was pretty much useless. There was a mirror all along one wall with a narrow ledge. The other wall had absolutely nothing on it. As you got to the back of the room there was about 6 stalls and 3 sinks. No handicapped restroom, no baby changing table, and dinky little stalls. I had to leave Eddie in the stroller outside the stall because there was no way the two of us could fit in there with or without the stroller. I had to change him on the narrow ledge and was afraid he was going to squirm and fall to the tile floor. Thank goodness he must have been tired enough to just sit there. There is so much wasted, non-useful space in this restroom with no amenities. It was ridiculous. There is also a general lack of places to sit around the lobby of the convention center that are not the floor. I think twice before sitting on the floor since it’s much harder to get up when you’re six months pregnant. There was seating in the convention floor near the refreshment stand, but not enough to accommodate the crowd. I took a picture of the only empty seats I saw all day. The elevators were not well marked and there was only one of them. Escalators are great... if you don’t have a stroller. 

Other than the lack of parent friendly facilities, the convention was a lot of fun. It’s always comforting to attend an event geared toward us geeks. There is always someone that is even weirder than you at a comic book convention. Always.