Four weeks.

Seems much longer. But indeed, four weeks have gone by since I walked into the OR, where my friend Rob gave me a terrific spinal. Geez. Anesthesia... can you imagine life without it? Anyway, my very skilled OB/GYNs sliced and diced my innards (to my husband's delight)and pulled out a nice, healthy baby to my delight, since we had a scare.
I was told back in July that I should have an amniocentesis done because some inconclusive bloodwork came back positive for Trisomy 18, which is pretty scary. Most of these kids don't last very long. I scheduled the amnio. Then I backed out. Why? Oh, for Christ's sake, I had already felt movement. I felt the little man kicking. And I could not stick a needle near him. I knew I could have a big dilemma. But I made the decision: I would have this child, and if I needed to comfort him for a precious few days, that was my duty to him as his mother. It would break my heart, but so would choosing the other alternative.
I have led a relatively comfortable life thus far. I was not sure what I would be facing if things turned out for the worse. Thank God Colin was normal, if not colicky and with an infected ingrown toenail to boot! But when he's screaming for the 11th hour and I am tired beyond tired and being pulled in ten different directions, I just think: he's got healthy lungs, a healthy heart, and he's alive and kicking. So Colin's Colic is not so bad.