IT'S A GIRL!


Aisling Stoirm Asdell was born at 3:38 p.m. on august 21st, 1999 at fort 
sanders regional medical hospital in knoxville, tennessee. she weighed 8 
lbs. 4.6 ozs. and was 21 inches long. she was delivered by cesarean 
section by dr. dell.



one of those many funny things about life...you really never know just 
what to expect. you would think that i of all people would have learned 
this little lesson by now considering what sort of surprises the past ten 
months have dealt me, but there are some things i don't believe you can 
ever be prepared for, not in a million years, and there are certain 
moments when you surprise even yourself, and in the end you are given 
something you never dreamed in a million years could actually be this 
wonderful. and so begins my story.

as i am sure all of you know, i have been waiting very impatiently for 
little miss Aisling to arrive for quite a long while now. during the last 
week of my pregnancy, the doctors even ordered prepadil (sp?) gel for my 
cervix in hopes of helping it ripen. (which had very interesting effects 
one certain monday evening causing me to believe i had gone into labor and 
sending a slew of people frantically down for the birth, which of course 
ended in a no-show.) well finally, friday morning, my water broke. and so 
i sat and waited for those contractions that were supposed to be periodic 
and increasing in intensity...which were only sporadic and irregular. in 
order to prevent a repeat of monday night, i decided to not share the news 
with anyone until things started really getting going...so a handful of 
people knew, and alestar and the jupiter girl and the ring master and 
charlie sat around with me and waited for something to happen. i was even 
ordered to drink castor oil in hopes of stimulating contractions--which 
was pretty horrid. eventually, i was ordered to go to the maternity center 
at eight o'clock and see if i had progressed at all...and so they checked 
me out and i had dilated a couple of centimeters...so they "stripped my 
membranes" (which actually sounds a lot worse than it really is) and set 
me to walking around the halls for a while to see if things would start 
going...and did they ever! in the span of an hour, my contractions became 
very intense and less than two minutes apart. i could hardly get myself 
into the birthing room, and i needed all three labor coaches to get me 
through every minute of it...and so nobody was called, no one was 
contacted, not even my grandparents, as alestar, the jupiter girl, and the 
ring master each had to help me position, breathe, and concentrate. things 
were intense, but i was managing it pretty well until i had dilated to 
five cenimeters and suddenly was feeling the urge to push and i really 
couldn't control it. so i started panicing, and it took even more to keep 
me calm and even simply keep me breathing. this went on for hours. around 
2:00 a.m., i had dilated enough to start pushing...i had entered 
"transition labor"...and i pushed, and pushed, and pushed, and then i had 
to keep from pushing because there was swelling, and then i had to push 
some more, and Aisling's head would descend a little and then retract back 
into its little hole. somewhere in the midst of all this, my midwife 
offered me a little demerol (sp?), which i accepted, and just for 
reference, anyone planning on having a baby, demerol is totally useless. 
it doesn't help the pain at all, and it doesn't relax you. it simply 
messes with your head and makes you pass out in between contractions. 
alestar and the jupiter girl and the ring master were wonderful, letting 
me twist their bodies into the strangest contortions and hang onto them 
for dear life, getting me to concentrate, doing breathing patterns with me 
to the point of hyperventilation, trying to get me to visualize...and it 
really did take all three of them to get me through this entire ordeal, 
and i am so very grateful they were there for me (battle wounds and all, 
as the jupiter girl had bruises and alestar's back was in pain for days 
afterward.) so finally, after different positions and many trials and 
hours of screaming my bloody head off, i was transferred to fort sanders 
for failure to progress.

this was perhaps the worst part of the entire ordeal. i had been asked to 
try not to push until the doctor at the hospital had a chance to look at 
me, which is virtually impossible when such an urge happens. not to 
mention it is very difficult to relax on a gurny in an ambulance, and 
lying flat on your back is absolutely the most painful position one can be 
in during labor. and it is very easy to get terrified, which i was. so 
they wheel me into the hospital, screaming louder than i have yet, asking 
me questions which i can't concentrate on and can't answer because i don't 
have time enough between the contractions. and they check me out and they 
look at everything and they ask me if i want an epideral (sp?). which i 
refuse at first, even though i am in agonizing pain. the doctor explains 
to me the benefits of an epideral and i ask if it will affect the baby at 
all, and every one in the hospital room kind of gives an unbelievable sigh 
and replies in chorus "no, of course not!" and so then i graciously 
accept...and let me tell you, i have always been an advocate of natural 
childbirth, and i still think if there are no complications natural is 
definitely the way to go, but man, that epideral was SUCH a relief. :) so 
i relaxed and slept for an hour, and then the swelling had gone down and 
everything seemed clear and ready to go, so they started me pushing again 
for three hours...with little success. so then the doctor comes in and 
orders a c-section, and they start preparing me for the ordeal...

now remember, this is a girl who has never been in a hospital for any 
extended period of time, who has never even experienced minor surgery, or 
broken bones, or anything more complicated than a spinal tap and wisdom 
teeth. so they start pumping me full of drugs, which i react badly to as i 
start shaking uncontrollably. they wheel me to the operating room, and 
deck the ring master out in scrubs and let her come with me. because i'm 
shaking, they have to tape my hands down to either side of me, which makes 
me feel vaguely like i'm about to be cruxified or something, and they put 
up this big blue curtain so the ring master and myself won't be exposed to 
the gore of it all. now, the thing about epideral is that it is wonderful 
on completely numbing away pain, but you can still feel all of the 
pressure and the pulling...so when you hear the cutting of scissors and 
feel the pressure in your abdomen you can kind of put two and two together 
and it is a rather frightening experience...not to mention the smell of 
blood is pretty overpowering. so i'm still shaking and i'm scared that 
because i am shaking so much i might be doing something to interfere with 
the procedure and when i try to talk to the anesthesiologist (sp?) about 
it, he completely ignores me. (this guy was great at giving drugs, but he 
had all of the personality of a prune.) so i feel all the pressure and try 
to stop shaking and all of the sudden i hear "well, it looks like you 
tried to give birth to something as big as you!" and i see this baby 
emerge from over the blue curtain and be placed on this metal slab where 
they suctioned out her lungs (because there was meconium in the amniotic 
fluid, which could cause complications if not removed completely) and 
checked her other sides...and i waited impatiently for her to cry, with 
tears running down my cheeks thinking "that's my baby, there she is..." 
finally she gave out this little whimper of a cry, and my heart was at 
rest. she was breathing, she was fine, everything was okay, my baby was 
here...

then there was some commotion from the other side of the curtain that i 
really didn't pay much attention to or notice as i was to busy trying to 
watch my baby to care much about what was happening in my lower 
extremeties. i noticed i kept wanting to drowse off to sleep, and that the 
shaking persisted. apparently, i was hemmoridging (sp? yet again) and was 
beginning to go into shock. meanwhile they had bundled little Aisling up 
in blankets and brought her over to the ring master to hold, who kept 
trying to bring her close to me so i could at least touch her hand or 
something but the anestheologist kept pushing her away...then he straps an 
oxygen mask on my face which scares the hell out of me and makes it very 
difficult for me to breathe, as i am rather closterphobic about such 
things. then they pressed down really hard on my stomach, and sewed me 
back together (a process that i found out later the ring master got to 
watch, as she had been pushed into a corner where she could view 
everything--i imagine she'll be having nightmares about it for years) and 
wheeled me back up into the hospital room where i finally got to hold my 
baby (though it was nearly impossible as much as i was shaking)...



then they carried little Aisling off to the nursery to be cleaned up and 
measured and all of that stuff, and i went out like a light bulb.

i don't think the reality of motherhood hit me until the second night in 
the hospital...i had spent most of my hospital stay trying to get the 
little one to breastfeed, as she had been given a bottle in the nursery 
much to my dismay because her glucose level was low, and i was unable to 
feed her in those first few hours...she had fallen asleep on my chest, and 
i had fallen asleep with her, and i woke up, and there was this beautiful 
creature lying there, little arms squirming about--my daughter. and i 
could smell her--and it is the kind of smell that is forever a part of 
you, the kind of smell that you instinctively search for when you are 
separated from her, the kind of smell that will stay with you until the 
day you die...and then it was real, and my heart was filled with so much 
joy, and so much love...i have thought i have loved before, there have 
been people i have held close to my heart throughout my life and people i 
will continue to hold there for years to come, but there is nothing, 
absolutely nothing that can compare to the love you have for a child. it 
is all-encompassing, and totally unconditional. you hold this child in 
your arms and you are willing to fly to the moon and back, to walk on the 
hottest coals of hell barefoot, to give the very last drop of your blood 
simply so she'll be happy. and it's not just pretty words, like it is in 
so many other situations--you find yourself sacrificing more every single 
day--you cut the fingernails you've never touched with a pair of clippers 
your entire life simply so you don't scratch her, you rush through what 
was once long, luxurious showers so you have more time for her, you skip 
meals or cut them short because she needs to be fed, or changed, or simply 
played with for awhile. you give up sleep, of course, and you start 
actually keeping the house neat and clean, your room in order. all of this 
and so, so much more, and the best part is that it doesn't matter. you 
don't care that it takes you a week to get around to doing one day of 
updates on your web page, that you barely have time to sit down and rest. 
in fact, moments when she is awake and playful and could easily amuse 
herself for a while letting you get something done, you spend instead 
watching her, playing with her, counting her fingers and toes, and making 
up silly songs for her. this is love, pure and unrefined. and i have never 
been so happy in my entire life. my mother always told me that having 
children was like christmas every day of the year, but i never really 
understood that until now. it is really impossible to describe to someone 
who has never been a mother--it is something akin to a butterfly trying to 
describe to a caterpillar what it feels like to be a butterfly. it is most 
amazing, and more wonderful than i ever expected in a million years. and 
lots and lots of work.



so here we are, Aisling is now 13 days old, nearly two weeks (see how long 
it takes for me to update a page these days?) and for those of you still 
confused about how to pronounce her name, it is "Ashlin." i've adopted a 
pet name for her--"starfish"--which is pretty much what i call her most of 
the time. she has quite a few admirers, has had many loving visitors come 
see her, and often draws a crowd when travelling out in public--13 days 
old, and already a celebrity. ;) she's doing great, gaining weight, 
smiling, and trying to laugh. and every once in a while she gets this very 
serious look as if she is contemplating the end of the universe or 
something (though i am sure she is simply trying to devise a method of 
sleeping and eating at the same time.) she is a wonderful, wonderful baby 
(though when she gets mad, does she ever have a temper!) and i totally 
love and adore her completely.



silly little song i made up for Aisling:

pretty little starfish
swimming in the sea
pretty little starfish
swimming just for me
oh my little starfish
isn't it a sight?
oh my little starfish
swimming in the night

pretty little starfish
swimming in the sky
pretty little starfish
swimming up so high
oh my little starfish
isn't it so neat?
oh my little starfish
high above the street

pretty little starfish
sleeping in my arms
pretty little starfish
with all her starfish charms
oh my little starfish
don't you know it's true?
oh my little starfish
i love you

okay, so yes, i'm a goober. ;)