Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Anybody out there?
Hello ... hello ... hello ... hello ...
I haven't posted in a long time, so I'm sure nobody even visits this blog anymore! I've been so busy with my son, who is already 10 weeks old!!, that I haven't thought much of blogging.
I can't believe how much time it takes to care for a baby. My son was not colicky, but he was quite fussy nonetheless. It took me two long months to realize that he needed some sort of structure to his day. After reading "The Baby Whisperer," I decided it was high time to put him on an "eat, play, sleep" schedule throughout the day. I guess it seems pretty no-duh to a lot of people, but it took me a while.
The thing is, he was exhausted but never napped. I guess I kind of figured if he was tired, he'd go to sleep. What else does he have to do? But, no, not really. So we've been working on getting him to nap (in his crib, no less) and it's going OK. Today he's done two of his three naps without too much argument. The later in the day it gets, the harder it is to get him down for a nap, and he gets awfully grumpy in the evenings.
On the plus side, he is sleeping through the night. And I do mean through the night. Not that 6-hour crap they call sleeping through the night. Lately, he often goes from 8 p.m. to 6:30 or 7 a.m. without waking. There were a few nights in there where he got me up at 2:30, but it seems he was having a growth spurt then.
As the weeks pass, things get easier. It definitely got better when he could start being entertained by things, and therefore could spend some time on a play mat or sit in his bouncer and watch me do things in the kitchen. Once that was possible, a lot less screaming took place and I could get more done. I can also get more done now that he naps regularly.
I hung in there with the breast-feeding, and that's going great. It gets so much easier as time goes on, and I'm so glad I didn't give up. I am not too rigid about it. I'm not one of those people who refuse to give my child formula ever. Sometimes if I'm out and about, he gets a bottle of formula. Sometimes a bottle of breast milk. Whatev.
I'm starting back to work in 10 days. I can't believe my three months are almost up. I will hate to leave him for that many hours, even though he'll be with either his father or grandparents. The thing that makes me really sad is that he'll go to bed at 8 p.m. and I won't get home until hours later, so once I leave him for the day, I won't see him until he wakes me up the next morning. I can't even hug him when I get home! That is, I won't hug him. I most surely won't be waking him up!
p.s. when they learn to smile, nothing beats that!!!
I haven't posted in a long time, so I'm sure nobody even visits this blog anymore! I've been so busy with my son, who is already 10 weeks old!!, that I haven't thought much of blogging.
I can't believe how much time it takes to care for a baby. My son was not colicky, but he was quite fussy nonetheless. It took me two long months to realize that he needed some sort of structure to his day. After reading "The Baby Whisperer," I decided it was high time to put him on an "eat, play, sleep" schedule throughout the day. I guess it seems pretty no-duh to a lot of people, but it took me a while.
The thing is, he was exhausted but never napped. I guess I kind of figured if he was tired, he'd go to sleep. What else does he have to do? But, no, not really. So we've been working on getting him to nap (in his crib, no less) and it's going OK. Today he's done two of his three naps without too much argument. The later in the day it gets, the harder it is to get him down for a nap, and he gets awfully grumpy in the evenings.
On the plus side, he is sleeping through the night. And I do mean through the night. Not that 6-hour crap they call sleeping through the night. Lately, he often goes from 8 p.m. to 6:30 or 7 a.m. without waking. There were a few nights in there where he got me up at 2:30, but it seems he was having a growth spurt then.
As the weeks pass, things get easier. It definitely got better when he could start being entertained by things, and therefore could spend some time on a play mat or sit in his bouncer and watch me do things in the kitchen. Once that was possible, a lot less screaming took place and I could get more done. I can also get more done now that he naps regularly.
I hung in there with the breast-feeding, and that's going great. It gets so much easier as time goes on, and I'm so glad I didn't give up. I am not too rigid about it. I'm not one of those people who refuse to give my child formula ever. Sometimes if I'm out and about, he gets a bottle of formula. Sometimes a bottle of breast milk. Whatev.
I'm starting back to work in 10 days. I can't believe my three months are almost up. I will hate to leave him for that many hours, even though he'll be with either his father or grandparents. The thing that makes me really sad is that he'll go to bed at 8 p.m. and I won't get home until hours later, so once I leave him for the day, I won't see him until he wakes me up the next morning. I can't even hug him when I get home! That is, I won't hug him. I most surely won't be waking him up!
p.s. when they learn to smile, nothing beats that!!!
Friday, August 13, 2010
Look at us! Look at us!
What's that? You want to see lots and lots of pictures of my family? You're in luck!
I wanted our wedding photographer shoot some pics of Brock, but we found ourselves in a budget crunch. Mark then pointed out that since we work at a newspaper, we know plenty of photographers. One of them, a new father himself, offered to take some newborn pics for a very good price.
At the time, Brock was being a bit of a pill. He was either sleeping or screaming the whole time. So we were pretty surprised when we actually got some good ones.
Here are some of them:
Brock loves practicing holding his head up and looking around. He's getting pretty good at it, even at a month old.
He also likes tummy time and pushing off with his legs. If you put him on his belly and put your hands on his feet, he'll push off and scoot himself around. He gets pretty excited about it. He also practices walking when Mark holds him in a standing position. Pretty funny how badly they want to move around even at a few weeks old!
I wanted our wedding photographer shoot some pics of Brock, but we found ourselves in a budget crunch. Mark then pointed out that since we work at a newspaper, we know plenty of photographers. One of them, a new father himself, offered to take some newborn pics for a very good price.
At the time, Brock was being a bit of a pill. He was either sleeping or screaming the whole time. So we were pretty surprised when we actually got some good ones.
Here are some of them:
Brock loves practicing holding his head up and looking around. He's getting pretty good at it, even at a month old.
He also likes tummy time and pushing off with his legs. If you put him on his belly and put your hands on his feet, he'll push off and scoot himself around. He gets pretty excited about it. He also practices walking when Mark holds him in a standing position. Pretty funny how badly they want to move around even at a few weeks old!
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Brocky boy
So ... motherhood. It's keeping me busy. Really busy.
I have had no shortage of moments where I have felt inferior or unqualified. But I think that's normal. Right?
The first 10 days or so were just awful. Worse than I expected. Although I had no physical problems breast-feeding -- it actually went surprisingly well for us -- the fact that I was the only one feeding him, and had to do so every two hours around the clock, was killing me.
You see, it's normal for babies to lose a little weight right after birth, due to fluid loss. But lots of babies get jaundiced and lose too much. That happened to Brock. When he was 3 days old, we were ordered to supplement his diet with formula. That's because my milk still hadn't come in, which is normal. I was told to pump frequently in order to get the milk going, breast-feed him the colostrum that I had at the time and supplement with formula. I didn't know that lots of babies have this issue. I thought he was going to die and I cried all day. I was exhausted from spending half an hour breast-feeding, 10 minutes supplementing and 15 minutes pumping out of each two-hour period. Whenever I'd finally finish, it was nearly time to feed him again. And one of the side effects of jaundice is that they are sleepy and don't want to wake up and eat. But to clear out the jaundice, they need to eat a lot and poop and pee a lot. So, you see, it's a vicious cycle. I was terribly stressed out about getting him to eat a lot, but he simply didn't want to eat that often.
That night, Mark's friend's wife came over. She's a lactation consultant and she was helping me make sure that I was feeding right. I think she knew I was a distraught, postpartum mother, and felt sorry for me. Brock was latching on well and my milk was starting to arrive. She urged me to take him to the lactation center at the hospital I gave birth at so that they could check his weight before and after a feeding and see how much he was getting.
The next day I called them and they seemed annoyed by me because my milk shouldn't necessarily be in anyway. But, again, a tearful, terrified postpartum mom can melt hearts, apparently, so she told me if I got there in an hour, I could have his weight checked, but that she had an appointment and couldn't do more than that. She was booked all day.
I rushed across town. On the way out the door, I realized I'd never learned how to collapse the stroller. I had no time to figure it out and Mark and I were in a panic. I knew if I was late, I was out of luck. We finally figured it out and loaded it up. I was going to the hospital and there was no way I could carry the car seat that far. When I got the stroller out, one wheel was twisted and locked, and I didn't know what I was doing so I had a hell of a time pushing that darn thing into the hospital. Then someone helped me figure it out. What a loser.
First thing, Brock was weighed, and he'd gained 3 ounces in a day! So that was a relief. And her appointment never showed, so I got to do a whole feeding/lactation consultation. One thing that having a baby stripped me of was my modesty. I don't know how many people have seen my boobs lately. Brock was a champion feeder, and may I say pooper/farter, too, and I was very pleased with the consultation.
That was Friday, and by Monday's doctor's appointment, he was nice and fat. The doctor told me to relax a little, and now that my milk was flowing, I decided to let Brock decide when he was hungry, more or less. That has made my life much better, and he has definitely porked up nicely.
But the hardest part of breast-feeding was just having to do it so often and being the only one who can, so I was sort of falling apart for lack of sleep. One night, Mark insisted that he feed him formula for a late-night feeding and that I sleep for a bit. I got six hours of sleep in a row! And that changed my life. That became our new routine. I feed him around 10 p.m. and then go to bed, and Mark feeds him the next one around 1 a.m. and then goes to bed. I take over from there. It really helps. And once my milk got going, I was able to have enough pumped for most of his bottle feedings. He's been great about changing from breast milk to formula and breast to bottle.
I'm now thinking about weaning him to formula, but I don't think I'm quite ready. There were times I wanted to give up, but I know it's best for him to have my milk. There are really pluses and minuses to each, but most of the pluses for formula are about my convenience. Selfish me. But for now, I'm just making sure he stays familiar with formula with a feeding here and there, and then I guess when I'm ready I'll start cutting out a feeding here and there until my milk supply drops. I wish I could say I am one of those moms who will breast-feed for a year, but I don't think I am. I like the bonding of the whole thing, but then again, when he bottle feeds, he looks at my face and interacts with me more. And I love that, too. So we'll see how long I can keep it up.
Breast-feeding pros: better for baby; he gets sick less; always fresh and convenient and free!; less air taken in, so happier baby
Breast-feeding cons: harder to get away for any period of time; takes a lot longer than bottle feeding, like 1/2 hour vs. 7 minutes; always worrying about timing feeds and/or pumping; I'd really like my smaller boobs back and to stop leaking. I can't fit in a lot of my old shirts.
Formula pros: stays full longer, so fewer feedings. That's nice at night!; don't have to worry about feeding in public; easy to prepare.
Formula cons: not as good for baby as breast milk; needs sanitized water; takes a few minutes to prepare a bottle (same with expressed breast milk, though), which seems like forever when a baby is screaming bloody murder.
He's growing like crazy and already has outgrown lots of his outfits. And he's quite a character, making lots of silly faces. He looks just like his dad at first glance, but I see my cheek dimples, nose indentions and lips on him. But he and dad even share mannerisms, which is bizarre.
By the way, sometimes we think he resembles E.T. I wonder if it's because during labor Mark and I had this E.T. phone home moment:
(and no, I'm not one of those women who look good in their labor/post-labor pictures.)
I have had no shortage of moments where I have felt inferior or unqualified. But I think that's normal. Right?
The first 10 days or so were just awful. Worse than I expected. Although I had no physical problems breast-feeding -- it actually went surprisingly well for us -- the fact that I was the only one feeding him, and had to do so every two hours around the clock, was killing me.
You see, it's normal for babies to lose a little weight right after birth, due to fluid loss. But lots of babies get jaundiced and lose too much. That happened to Brock. When he was 3 days old, we were ordered to supplement his diet with formula. That's because my milk still hadn't come in, which is normal. I was told to pump frequently in order to get the milk going, breast-feed him the colostrum that I had at the time and supplement with formula. I didn't know that lots of babies have this issue. I thought he was going to die and I cried all day. I was exhausted from spending half an hour breast-feeding, 10 minutes supplementing and 15 minutes pumping out of each two-hour period. Whenever I'd finally finish, it was nearly time to feed him again. And one of the side effects of jaundice is that they are sleepy and don't want to wake up and eat. But to clear out the jaundice, they need to eat a lot and poop and pee a lot. So, you see, it's a vicious cycle. I was terribly stressed out about getting him to eat a lot, but he simply didn't want to eat that often.
That night, Mark's friend's wife came over. She's a lactation consultant and she was helping me make sure that I was feeding right. I think she knew I was a distraught, postpartum mother, and felt sorry for me. Brock was latching on well and my milk was starting to arrive. She urged me to take him to the lactation center at the hospital I gave birth at so that they could check his weight before and after a feeding and see how much he was getting.
The next day I called them and they seemed annoyed by me because my milk shouldn't necessarily be in anyway. But, again, a tearful, terrified postpartum mom can melt hearts, apparently, so she told me if I got there in an hour, I could have his weight checked, but that she had an appointment and couldn't do more than that. She was booked all day.
I rushed across town. On the way out the door, I realized I'd never learned how to collapse the stroller. I had no time to figure it out and Mark and I were in a panic. I knew if I was late, I was out of luck. We finally figured it out and loaded it up. I was going to the hospital and there was no way I could carry the car seat that far. When I got the stroller out, one wheel was twisted and locked, and I didn't know what I was doing so I had a hell of a time pushing that darn thing into the hospital. Then someone helped me figure it out. What a loser.
First thing, Brock was weighed, and he'd gained 3 ounces in a day! So that was a relief. And her appointment never showed, so I got to do a whole feeding/lactation consultation. One thing that having a baby stripped me of was my modesty. I don't know how many people have seen my boobs lately. Brock was a champion feeder, and may I say pooper/farter, too, and I was very pleased with the consultation.
That was Friday, and by Monday's doctor's appointment, he was nice and fat. The doctor told me to relax a little, and now that my milk was flowing, I decided to let Brock decide when he was hungry, more or less. That has made my life much better, and he has definitely porked up nicely.
But the hardest part of breast-feeding was just having to do it so often and being the only one who can, so I was sort of falling apart for lack of sleep. One night, Mark insisted that he feed him formula for a late-night feeding and that I sleep for a bit. I got six hours of sleep in a row! And that changed my life. That became our new routine. I feed him around 10 p.m. and then go to bed, and Mark feeds him the next one around 1 a.m. and then goes to bed. I take over from there. It really helps. And once my milk got going, I was able to have enough pumped for most of his bottle feedings. He's been great about changing from breast milk to formula and breast to bottle.
I'm now thinking about weaning him to formula, but I don't think I'm quite ready. There were times I wanted to give up, but I know it's best for him to have my milk. There are really pluses and minuses to each, but most of the pluses for formula are about my convenience. Selfish me. But for now, I'm just making sure he stays familiar with formula with a feeding here and there, and then I guess when I'm ready I'll start cutting out a feeding here and there until my milk supply drops. I wish I could say I am one of those moms who will breast-feed for a year, but I don't think I am. I like the bonding of the whole thing, but then again, when he bottle feeds, he looks at my face and interacts with me more. And I love that, too. So we'll see how long I can keep it up.
Breast-feeding pros: better for baby; he gets sick less; always fresh and convenient and free!; less air taken in, so happier baby
Breast-feeding cons: harder to get away for any period of time; takes a lot longer than bottle feeding, like 1/2 hour vs. 7 minutes; always worrying about timing feeds and/or pumping; I'd really like my smaller boobs back and to stop leaking. I can't fit in a lot of my old shirts.
Formula pros: stays full longer, so fewer feedings. That's nice at night!; don't have to worry about feeding in public; easy to prepare.
Formula cons: not as good for baby as breast milk; needs sanitized water; takes a few minutes to prepare a bottle (same with expressed breast milk, though), which seems like forever when a baby is screaming bloody murder.
He's growing like crazy and already has outgrown lots of his outfits. And he's quite a character, making lots of silly faces. He looks just like his dad at first glance, but I see my cheek dimples, nose indentions and lips on him. But he and dad even share mannerisms, which is bizarre.
By the way, sometimes we think he resembles E.T. I wonder if it's because during labor Mark and I had this E.T. phone home moment:
(and no, I'm not one of those women who look good in their labor/post-labor pictures.)
Farewell, Suggs
On Sunday, I said goodbye to my cat. I have had both of my cats for 17 years, and Suggs was always the one I thought would live the longest.
A few months ago, though, she started having trouble with her bowels. She would strain and strain and little to nothing would happen. We were going out of town and her regular vet was booked for a while, so we saw someone else at the clinic. After forking out a chunk of change, her blood work came back looking great and we got no diagnosis. She took some antibiotics just in case, but they didn't do anything.
Meanwhile, she was constantly having small "accidents" on the floor all over the house. At first, it made us mad, but we eventually saw that she was quite ill. It became especially apparent after I had her shaved because she wasn't grooming and got matted. We couldn't believe how skinny our pudgy Suggs had become.
As time went on, poor Suggs lost everything that mattered to her. First went her bedroom, which was turned into a nursery. She was always one for "safety zones," and she was distraught when hers went away. After she was shaved, her sister shunned her. And when I was very pregnant, I was often annoyed by her when she became clingy and wanted to crawl on me. Then I came home with the baby and was so overwhelmed and distracted that I just didn't deal with her at all. Thank goodness Mark was there to care for the cats. But her loud yowling and her constant need to eat (part of her illness) and her clinginess just stressed me out.
And I know that makes me an awful person.
In the end, she started running into walls and getting stuck in corners. She'd jump up on a chair, but miss by a mile. She clearly couldn't see well, or something was affecting her brain. We knew we had to make a tough decision.
I felt terrible about things, so I made it a point to really apologize to her and make it up to her. I invited her onto my lap when I was nursing and gave her tons of love. I told her I was sorry for everything. And I hope she forgives me.
Her last day was a beautiful day. Her regular vet came to our house Sunday afternoon. We had spent the day outside, enjoying the yard and the weather. She sat under her favorite bush, which I'll never understand because it looks like the most uncomfortable place in the yard.
We sat with her and petted her, and Mark made her a feast for her last meal. We took a zillion pictures and held her as she passed away.
Afterward, we placed her in a box -- what cat doesn't love boxes?! -- with a towel, blanket, a can of her favorite food, toy mice and flowers. She looked so at peace, and better than she had in a long time.
Mark dug a hole and we buried her, and then we planted a crape myrtle in her memory.
Rest in peace, Suggs. We'll really miss you.
A few months ago, though, she started having trouble with her bowels. She would strain and strain and little to nothing would happen. We were going out of town and her regular vet was booked for a while, so we saw someone else at the clinic. After forking out a chunk of change, her blood work came back looking great and we got no diagnosis. She took some antibiotics just in case, but they didn't do anything.
Meanwhile, she was constantly having small "accidents" on the floor all over the house. At first, it made us mad, but we eventually saw that she was quite ill. It became especially apparent after I had her shaved because she wasn't grooming and got matted. We couldn't believe how skinny our pudgy Suggs had become.
As time went on, poor Suggs lost everything that mattered to her. First went her bedroom, which was turned into a nursery. She was always one for "safety zones," and she was distraught when hers went away. After she was shaved, her sister shunned her. And when I was very pregnant, I was often annoyed by her when she became clingy and wanted to crawl on me. Then I came home with the baby and was so overwhelmed and distracted that I just didn't deal with her at all. Thank goodness Mark was there to care for the cats. But her loud yowling and her constant need to eat (part of her illness) and her clinginess just stressed me out.
And I know that makes me an awful person.
In the end, she started running into walls and getting stuck in corners. She'd jump up on a chair, but miss by a mile. She clearly couldn't see well, or something was affecting her brain. We knew we had to make a tough decision.
I felt terrible about things, so I made it a point to really apologize to her and make it up to her. I invited her onto my lap when I was nursing and gave her tons of love. I told her I was sorry for everything. And I hope she forgives me.
Her last day was a beautiful day. Her regular vet came to our house Sunday afternoon. We had spent the day outside, enjoying the yard and the weather. She sat under her favorite bush, which I'll never understand because it looks like the most uncomfortable place in the yard.
We sat with her and petted her, and Mark made her a feast for her last meal. We took a zillion pictures and held her as she passed away.
Afterward, we placed her in a box -- what cat doesn't love boxes?! -- with a towel, blanket, a can of her favorite food, toy mice and flowers. She looked so at peace, and better than she had in a long time.
Mark dug a hole and we buried her, and then we planted a crape myrtle in her memory.
Rest in peace, Suggs. We'll really miss you.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Alright, the nitty-gritty
I told you that I had my baby, Brock, last week on July 13. He was born at 12:02 a.m., on his due date. I was trying so hard to push him out on July 12, but I missed by a few minutes. I'm not sure why I cared. Maybe it gave me a goal for the whole thing to be over with!
I thought I'd share my story while I have a spare 5 minutes. I know some of you are pregnant, and I don't intend to make this any kind of horror story, so don't fear. I am just sharing my experience, and want to whisper this in your ears: take the epidural!!
So, on Sunday, July 11, I started feeling some contractions. But they were really minor and easy to deal with. I went about my day feeling giddy and thinking, "this isn't so bad." I had been having painless Braxton-Hicks contractions and menstrual-like cramps for weeks, but not painful contractions I could actually time. Sometime that afternoon, it all just petered out. I was disappointed and hoped it still meant that it would happen soon and I wouldn't go late and be induced. I figured it was a good sign.
The next day, I got up about 7:30 to feed my cats, who were annoying me. I went back to bed and started feeling contractions again. This time they were darn painful. But they were spaced out. A few hours later, I decided to get up and eat. Each contraction had me pausing, doubled over and breathing through them. I had expected them to start more slowly and gently, for some reason, and then work their way up. Incidentally (grossness alert), I never saw any sign of mucous plug or bloody show.
I decided to shower while they were still far enough apart that I could handle it OK. I'm sure glad I did. I then got back into bed and started recording/timing contractions. They hurt terribly. I couldn't talk through them or listen to someone else. I stayed there for hours, fearing I'd have to wait a really long time like that before they were close enough together to go to the hospital. Thankfully, they were about 2 minutes long. So all I needed was for them to get a bit closer together.
Here's another TMI moment: I went to pee a few times and there was a gush of fresh blood. Not like a tiny bit on the TP, but a lot. So I sort of freaked out and called the doctor's office. The nurse didn't sound particularly reassuring about the blood and after asking me about the contractions decided I was close enough and told me she'd let them know I was on my way.
Mark loaded up the car frantically, somehow forgetting all of the stuff I packed for the baby and some other things I had deemed important. In the end, most of it was unnecessary. (I will say that I'm glad I took some [dark-colored] nursing pajamas and a nursing sleep bra. I would have hated to wear the hospital gown the whole time, even though I was not in the hospital long.) The ride to the hospital seemed endless. I could not walk well at this point, so I was wheeled up to labor and delivery and placed in triage. I was upset because I kept feeling blood coming out, but they left me there for quite awhile like I was not in the midst of the scariest and most painful event of my life.
At this point, the only word in my vocabulary was the F-word. Over and over and over again. I fear it may be Brock's first word. It was kind of funny that that was all I could say. The contractions seemed to never end, and they really did hurt more than I expected. Finally, they got me into a labor room and apologized for taking so long.
They offered me some sort of narcotic through my IV, which was probably one of those things I'd read other people criticizing on the pregnancy forums, but at that point I did not care what they gave me, as long as it took the edge off. The drug started with a Ph or an F sound, though I don't recall what it was. It made me feel goooood. I was sort of dizzy and in la-la land for a while.
Eventually, maybe around 4 or so, the anesthesiologist came and gave me my epidural. He said that it went in better than any he'd given before. Maybe he says that to everyone. But I did still feel contractions on the left side, and I had tremendous pain up in my rib cage on the left, where the baby seemed to have shoved himself.
A nurse came and "topped" off my epidural and I got sweet relief at last! I actually went 100% numb from the rib cage down. You could have stabbed my legs and I wouldn't have felt it at all. I could not wiggle my toes anymore. It was disconcerting, but I figured it was better than many more hours of what I had been feeling. I kept asking the nurse if she was sure I'd ever be able to use my legs again.
Eventually, around 7 the doctor on call came in as her shift was ending and broke my bag of waters and checked the dilation. It was pretty good, I think 8 cm. Eventually, I was found to be fully dilated, but I still had zero feeling. They wanted me to be able to at least feel the pressure so I could push, but I was not regaining feeling and they decided to proceed. My labor nurse was wonderful. If you don't have a great labor nurse, I'm not sure how you'd get through that!
My nurse set up a bar on the end of the bed and tied a bed sheet to it for me to hold onto. She held one leg and Mark held the other and then when the machine showed I was having a contraction, she'd tell me to push. I couldn't feel a thing, so I'd just push blindly and she'd tell me by watching if I was pushing in the right area. Very weird.
When the doctor on call got there, we did this a little longer and out came Brock! Mark worked so hard on my labor. He certainly wasn't just holding my hand. He was sore for days from holding the dead weight of my leg (maybe I gained a bit too much weight?) and helping me push. It would have taken ages longer to deliver if not for him.
Now, about Mark: He's way squeamish. I don't blame him; I'm the same way. Earlier, when I'd asked about him cutting the umbilical cord, he was horrified that someone would even ask him that. During the labor, when the nurse would recline me flat, my blood pressure would drop and I'd get really nauseated. At one point, between pushes, I started vomiting. Mark tried to hold a bucket there, but vomiting while flat on your back with your legs in the air is not easy. Needless to say, it kind of got everywhere. I started panicking and crying when I couldn't breathe. I'm pretty sure I inhaled quite a bit of it because I was coughing a nasty cough for a few days.
After that, Mark felt emboldened. He figured, he took the barf, he could take the rest of it. He wasn't freaked out to look at the baby as he crowned or watch the doctor stitch me up (level 2 tear, wasn't too bothersome). He even took interest in the placenta, which is actually very interesting. Mark decided it just looked like liver or something you could eat. And, actually, some people do.
At this point, as you can imagine, I was in heaven. It was finally over, and I had a beautiful, healthy baby boy. After nine months of worrying about your baby, seeing him in the flesh and knowing he's OK is such an amazing feeling.
Unfortunately, my legs didn't work for hours more. I had to be taken to my regular room on a gurney instead of using a wheelchair. But I can walk now just fine, so no worries.
I think of friends who had no pain meds, and I'm pretty amazed. Either I'm wimpy or they are incredibly strong. Or they had some totally different contractions. But I'm really glad that I personally went the medicated route. I think it made my birthing experience a million times better. I know some people want to feel the whole thing because they feel they get more out of it that way, but it wasn't for me.
As for the aftermath, I really didn't have much discomfort, ahem, "down there." I did for a few days, but it went away quickly. I never needed pain meds that were offered to me, and the numbing spray was unnecessary. I had planned to do sitz baths, but I honestly never had time once I got home. I healed up quickly and it never bothered me much.
I was a little surprised by the pooch that was left after the birth, but it's going down pretty quickly. I also haven't looked in the mirror much (I've only gotten dressed and left the house twice since), but then saw that I had actually lost most of the fat I gained. I'd look pretty much normal if not for the stretched out belly, which isn't fat anyway, and the ginormous boobs that came with breast-feeding.
A few more things I want to share:
If you hang out on pregnancy forums, you'll see a lot of judgmental moms out there. People who have decided to oppose everything from vaccines to epidurals. And if you don't know what you're doing, you feel like you need to make a fuss about things, too, or you're a bad mom for just going with the flow.
I found that flexibility is key. I took the meds offered to me because I needed them. And I wasn't going to feel bad. I don't believe they'd really give me that narcotic if it was a danger to my baby.
I was made to feel it's a terrible thing to allow your baby to be taken from your room at any time. They automatically weigh and measure the baby in your presence, after some bonding time. But I refused to send him to the nursery when I was falling apart and hadn't slept in ages. Mark couldn't understand it, but I'd allowed these "forum" people to make me feel terrible about that. At one point I thought I'd drop him from exhaustion at 3 a.m. but he was screaming nonstop. I was crying, too, and called the nurse to help me figure out what to do. She came and said that she has newborn testing to do, anyway, and that she could do it now and give me a little break. I didn't want to, and she said, "You're not a bad mom for letting him go to the nursery. 10 other moms have called in the last hour looking for a little chance to sleep." I still cried because I sent my newborn son away because he was crying and I wanted to sleep. I felt so selfish, but now I wish I'd taken advantage a bit more because I'm still so exhausted!
Well, I've used up my luxury time here, so I'm going to wrap it up for today. I will write more soon about the first week and what it was like for me.
I thought I'd share my story while I have a spare 5 minutes. I know some of you are pregnant, and I don't intend to make this any kind of horror story, so don't fear. I am just sharing my experience, and want to whisper this in your ears: take the epidural!!
So, on Sunday, July 11, I started feeling some contractions. But they were really minor and easy to deal with. I went about my day feeling giddy and thinking, "this isn't so bad." I had been having painless Braxton-Hicks contractions and menstrual-like cramps for weeks, but not painful contractions I could actually time. Sometime that afternoon, it all just petered out. I was disappointed and hoped it still meant that it would happen soon and I wouldn't go late and be induced. I figured it was a good sign.
The next day, I got up about 7:30 to feed my cats, who were annoying me. I went back to bed and started feeling contractions again. This time they were darn painful. But they were spaced out. A few hours later, I decided to get up and eat. Each contraction had me pausing, doubled over and breathing through them. I had expected them to start more slowly and gently, for some reason, and then work their way up. Incidentally (grossness alert), I never saw any sign of mucous plug or bloody show.
I decided to shower while they were still far enough apart that I could handle it OK. I'm sure glad I did. I then got back into bed and started recording/timing contractions. They hurt terribly. I couldn't talk through them or listen to someone else. I stayed there for hours, fearing I'd have to wait a really long time like that before they were close enough together to go to the hospital. Thankfully, they were about 2 minutes long. So all I needed was for them to get a bit closer together.
Here's another TMI moment: I went to pee a few times and there was a gush of fresh blood. Not like a tiny bit on the TP, but a lot. So I sort of freaked out and called the doctor's office. The nurse didn't sound particularly reassuring about the blood and after asking me about the contractions decided I was close enough and told me she'd let them know I was on my way.
Mark loaded up the car frantically, somehow forgetting all of the stuff I packed for the baby and some other things I had deemed important. In the end, most of it was unnecessary. (I will say that I'm glad I took some [dark-colored] nursing pajamas and a nursing sleep bra. I would have hated to wear the hospital gown the whole time, even though I was not in the hospital long.) The ride to the hospital seemed endless. I could not walk well at this point, so I was wheeled up to labor and delivery and placed in triage. I was upset because I kept feeling blood coming out, but they left me there for quite awhile like I was not in the midst of the scariest and most painful event of my life.
At this point, the only word in my vocabulary was the F-word. Over and over and over again. I fear it may be Brock's first word. It was kind of funny that that was all I could say. The contractions seemed to never end, and they really did hurt more than I expected. Finally, they got me into a labor room and apologized for taking so long.
They offered me some sort of narcotic through my IV, which was probably one of those things I'd read other people criticizing on the pregnancy forums, but at that point I did not care what they gave me, as long as it took the edge off. The drug started with a Ph or an F sound, though I don't recall what it was. It made me feel goooood. I was sort of dizzy and in la-la land for a while.
Eventually, maybe around 4 or so, the anesthesiologist came and gave me my epidural. He said that it went in better than any he'd given before. Maybe he says that to everyone. But I did still feel contractions on the left side, and I had tremendous pain up in my rib cage on the left, where the baby seemed to have shoved himself.
A nurse came and "topped" off my epidural and I got sweet relief at last! I actually went 100% numb from the rib cage down. You could have stabbed my legs and I wouldn't have felt it at all. I could not wiggle my toes anymore. It was disconcerting, but I figured it was better than many more hours of what I had been feeling. I kept asking the nurse if she was sure I'd ever be able to use my legs again.
Eventually, around 7 the doctor on call came in as her shift was ending and broke my bag of waters and checked the dilation. It was pretty good, I think 8 cm. Eventually, I was found to be fully dilated, but I still had zero feeling. They wanted me to be able to at least feel the pressure so I could push, but I was not regaining feeling and they decided to proceed. My labor nurse was wonderful. If you don't have a great labor nurse, I'm not sure how you'd get through that!
My nurse set up a bar on the end of the bed and tied a bed sheet to it for me to hold onto. She held one leg and Mark held the other and then when the machine showed I was having a contraction, she'd tell me to push. I couldn't feel a thing, so I'd just push blindly and she'd tell me by watching if I was pushing in the right area. Very weird.
When the doctor on call got there, we did this a little longer and out came Brock! Mark worked so hard on my labor. He certainly wasn't just holding my hand. He was sore for days from holding the dead weight of my leg (maybe I gained a bit too much weight?) and helping me push. It would have taken ages longer to deliver if not for him.
Now, about Mark: He's way squeamish. I don't blame him; I'm the same way. Earlier, when I'd asked about him cutting the umbilical cord, he was horrified that someone would even ask him that. During the labor, when the nurse would recline me flat, my blood pressure would drop and I'd get really nauseated. At one point, between pushes, I started vomiting. Mark tried to hold a bucket there, but vomiting while flat on your back with your legs in the air is not easy. Needless to say, it kind of got everywhere. I started panicking and crying when I couldn't breathe. I'm pretty sure I inhaled quite a bit of it because I was coughing a nasty cough for a few days.
After that, Mark felt emboldened. He figured, he took the barf, he could take the rest of it. He wasn't freaked out to look at the baby as he crowned or watch the doctor stitch me up (level 2 tear, wasn't too bothersome). He even took interest in the placenta, which is actually very interesting. Mark decided it just looked like liver or something you could eat. And, actually, some people do.
At this point, as you can imagine, I was in heaven. It was finally over, and I had a beautiful, healthy baby boy. After nine months of worrying about your baby, seeing him in the flesh and knowing he's OK is such an amazing feeling.
Unfortunately, my legs didn't work for hours more. I had to be taken to my regular room on a gurney instead of using a wheelchair. But I can walk now just fine, so no worries.
I think of friends who had no pain meds, and I'm pretty amazed. Either I'm wimpy or they are incredibly strong. Or they had some totally different contractions. But I'm really glad that I personally went the medicated route. I think it made my birthing experience a million times better. I know some people want to feel the whole thing because they feel they get more out of it that way, but it wasn't for me.
As for the aftermath, I really didn't have much discomfort, ahem, "down there." I did for a few days, but it went away quickly. I never needed pain meds that were offered to me, and the numbing spray was unnecessary. I had planned to do sitz baths, but I honestly never had time once I got home. I healed up quickly and it never bothered me much.
I was a little surprised by the pooch that was left after the birth, but it's going down pretty quickly. I also haven't looked in the mirror much (I've only gotten dressed and left the house twice since), but then saw that I had actually lost most of the fat I gained. I'd look pretty much normal if not for the stretched out belly, which isn't fat anyway, and the ginormous boobs that came with breast-feeding.
A few more things I want to share:
If you hang out on pregnancy forums, you'll see a lot of judgmental moms out there. People who have decided to oppose everything from vaccines to epidurals. And if you don't know what you're doing, you feel like you need to make a fuss about things, too, or you're a bad mom for just going with the flow.
I found that flexibility is key. I took the meds offered to me because I needed them. And I wasn't going to feel bad. I don't believe they'd really give me that narcotic if it was a danger to my baby.
I was made to feel it's a terrible thing to allow your baby to be taken from your room at any time. They automatically weigh and measure the baby in your presence, after some bonding time. But I refused to send him to the nursery when I was falling apart and hadn't slept in ages. Mark couldn't understand it, but I'd allowed these "forum" people to make me feel terrible about that. At one point I thought I'd drop him from exhaustion at 3 a.m. but he was screaming nonstop. I was crying, too, and called the nurse to help me figure out what to do. She came and said that she has newborn testing to do, anyway, and that she could do it now and give me a little break. I didn't want to, and she said, "You're not a bad mom for letting him go to the nursery. 10 other moms have called in the last hour looking for a little chance to sleep." I still cried because I sent my newborn son away because he was crying and I wanted to sleep. I felt so selfish, but now I wish I'd taken advantage a bit more because I'm still so exhausted!
Well, I've used up my luxury time here, so I'm going to wrap it up for today. I will write more soon about the first week and what it was like for me.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Baby Brock
Hi everyone! I've been such a bore lately that I'm sure nobody reads my blog anymore anyway, but I wanted to announce the birth of my son earlier this week.
Brock Emanuel
7 lbs, 4 oz
20 inches long
Everything went great. He's perfect and I had no complications or need for induction. I will tell more about my experience later, since I'm pretty much exhausted and have to sleep any chance I get.
I was able to get some rest today and tonight and feel much better. My husband's shift ended and the baby actually went to sleep in his crib. He had been cluster feeding this evening, so when my shift started, I realized he was kind of on a longer break. I still got up to check that he was OK and found myself with a spare few moments to catch you all up.
There are a few of you who are also pregnant. I have little Internet time for the next few weeks, but I'll definitely be catching up on how you're doing and hope you are well!
Brock Emanuel
7 lbs, 4 oz
20 inches long
Everything went great. He's perfect and I had no complications or need for induction. I will tell more about my experience later, since I'm pretty much exhausted and have to sleep any chance I get.
I was able to get some rest today and tonight and feel much better. My husband's shift ended and the baby actually went to sleep in his crib. He had been cluster feeding this evening, so when my shift started, I realized he was kind of on a longer break. I still got up to check that he was OK and found myself with a spare few moments to catch you all up.
There are a few of you who are also pregnant. I have little Internet time for the next few weeks, but I'll definitely be catching up on how you're doing and hope you are well!
Sunday, July 4, 2010
What pregnancy has taught me
Well, I'm nine days from B-Day! Of course, he may come sooner or later, but I can't believe it's so close.
I'm very tired lately. The smallest errand really takes it out of me. Right about now, I'm so glad to have a job where I sit all day. I only have to get through this week and then I can take it easy and await the birth of my firstborn.
I just got a small burst of energy and dusted my bedroom and vacuumed upstairs, and now I am afraid I'm going to crash. Thus, I will make this snappy and get in the shower before that happens!
I will not lie. Pregnancy has been much harder on my body than I expected. Is this because I'm 36? Or is it just the way it is for everyone? I don't know. It seems to be that way for everyone.
The end of pregnancy has involved a lot of waddling and pelvic pain for me. The baby has dropped really low -- past the zero station to the 1 station. He's primed for take off! My doctor says that is good for delivery and pushing. I'm not dilated much; I've been at 1/2 cm for a while now. I'm about 60% effaced. My cervix is also still at the back, and I guess it has to shift for birth. These things don't really point to any particular birthing date, as any of them can change very quickly.
I also have had some mighty puffy feet in the last few weeks. And there's some nerve that baby presses on sometimes that sends shooting misery down the inside of my right leg. The pressure on the pubic bone also sends some shooting pains throughout my private regions. It's hard to wear pants because the bottom of my belly literally stops a couple of inches above my crotch. So most of my maternity shirts do not reach long enough to cover my tummy.
The plus side is that my entire wardrobe fits in half of a laundry basket and I don't have to bother putting my clothes away.
I've had a lot of ailments to complain about, but I'd like to point out a few things I'm thankful I didn't have:
Carpel tunnel in my wrists
Mask of pregnancy (I do have two small spots, but nothing that has taken over my face or anything)
Vomiting or extended morning sickness
Extensive weight gain (I've gained the full 30 pounds that was recommended, but not more)
I know there are more, but I can't think of them right now.
Now, on to what I've learned from pregnancy:
I'm so much stronger than I thought. I can take so much more than I expected. Women are strong ... much stronger than men! Really, I'd like to see them do this. Before, when I had an ailment, I visited the medicine cabinet. I've learned that I can take just about any misery without any kind of medicinal aid, though I thank God for Maalox. The nighttime acid reflux can get pretty vicious toward the end. Finally, mothers really do have a right to say, "... after all I've done for you!!!" This is just the beginning of sacrifices I will make for my son, and gladly!
I'm very tired lately. The smallest errand really takes it out of me. Right about now, I'm so glad to have a job where I sit all day. I only have to get through this week and then I can take it easy and await the birth of my firstborn.
I just got a small burst of energy and dusted my bedroom and vacuumed upstairs, and now I am afraid I'm going to crash. Thus, I will make this snappy and get in the shower before that happens!
I will not lie. Pregnancy has been much harder on my body than I expected. Is this because I'm 36? Or is it just the way it is for everyone? I don't know. It seems to be that way for everyone.
The end of pregnancy has involved a lot of waddling and pelvic pain for me. The baby has dropped really low -- past the zero station to the 1 station. He's primed for take off! My doctor says that is good for delivery and pushing. I'm not dilated much; I've been at 1/2 cm for a while now. I'm about 60% effaced. My cervix is also still at the back, and I guess it has to shift for birth. These things don't really point to any particular birthing date, as any of them can change very quickly.
I also have had some mighty puffy feet in the last few weeks. And there's some nerve that baby presses on sometimes that sends shooting misery down the inside of my right leg. The pressure on the pubic bone also sends some shooting pains throughout my private regions. It's hard to wear pants because the bottom of my belly literally stops a couple of inches above my crotch. So most of my maternity shirts do not reach long enough to cover my tummy.
The plus side is that my entire wardrobe fits in half of a laundry basket and I don't have to bother putting my clothes away.
I've had a lot of ailments to complain about, but I'd like to point out a few things I'm thankful I didn't have:
Carpel tunnel in my wrists
Mask of pregnancy (I do have two small spots, but nothing that has taken over my face or anything)
Vomiting or extended morning sickness
Extensive weight gain (I've gained the full 30 pounds that was recommended, but not more)
I know there are more, but I can't think of them right now.
Now, on to what I've learned from pregnancy:
I'm so much stronger than I thought. I can take so much more than I expected. Women are strong ... much stronger than men! Really, I'd like to see them do this. Before, when I had an ailment, I visited the medicine cabinet. I've learned that I can take just about any misery without any kind of medicinal aid, though I thank God for Maalox. The nighttime acid reflux can get pretty vicious toward the end. Finally, mothers really do have a right to say, "... after all I've done for you!!!" This is just the beginning of sacrifices I will make for my son, and gladly!
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Fine. Here's your picture.
By popular demand, a picture of me at 37 weeks' pregnant.
And I didn't even crop out my face.
And I didn't even crop out my face.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
3-1/2 weeks to go
I simply cannot believe I'm so close to having this bebe! I'm completely ready and not the least bit scared. I think I may get a bit freaked out when I actually enter the hospital, because hospitals just don't impart a good feeling in you. Maybe that's the appeal of home births for some people. I don't think I realized this until I went on a tour of the maternity areas today.
The thing I like about my hospital is that it's very mother/baby friendly. It's pretty much automatic that you're expected to room with your baby. You'd have to go out of your way to have it kept in the nursery. It's pretty much automatic that you're to breast-feed, too. I mean, it's your choice, but I had heard other people talk about nurses formula feeding babies without permission, and I guess that won't be an issue where I'm going. It's also very partner-friendly, encouraging fathers to play their really important part in everything. I like that they give you skin-to-skin contact with baby for the first hour of life. All these things were important to me, but I thought I'd have to request them.
As for how I'm feeling:
Remember the severe mid-back pain I whined about all of the time? Well, for whatever reason, that disappeared. It seemed to coincide with when the baby moved into the right side of my belly. I don't know why he likes hanging out with his head shoved into my pelvic bone, but I sure do feel better.
On the negative side, my feet and ankles started swelling something awful. And now that it's so hot, I feel compelled to cover up with long pants instead of wearing breezy dresses. It's a dignity thing. It's easy to tell me not to care, but I do care. I have very few ways in which I can feel like a decent-looking human being. Therefore, I do what I can. A pedicure, eyebrow wax, makeup, style my hair. Shave my legs, you know. I still look like a cow, but at least I TRY to be pretty. Sometimes I try to hide all of the bad stuff with inappropriately fancy jewelry. I'm not sure if it's foolin' anyone.
I'm totally prepared for the baby, as far as supplies and the nursery go. And mentally and physically, too. Actually, I have not done my Kegel exercises or my perineum massages, and I'll probably pay for that eventually, but I'm just coasting along for a few weeks, looking forward to some time off of work and meeting my precious son. I also haven't picked a pediatrician. Maybe I should do that sometime soon. Sleep has already become rather difficult, so maybe I'll be a little prepared for exhaustion on some level. I'm totally ready to be able to move -- dying to go for a walk! My pelvis hurts with each step I take, so it's really frustrating.
I'll leave you with my cankles/puffy feet. Oh, they get much worse than this. I got to take a nap today, so my earlier swelling went down and then I started over. But at least my toenails are pretty!
The thing I like about my hospital is that it's very mother/baby friendly. It's pretty much automatic that you're expected to room with your baby. You'd have to go out of your way to have it kept in the nursery. It's pretty much automatic that you're to breast-feed, too. I mean, it's your choice, but I had heard other people talk about nurses formula feeding babies without permission, and I guess that won't be an issue where I'm going. It's also very partner-friendly, encouraging fathers to play their really important part in everything. I like that they give you skin-to-skin contact with baby for the first hour of life. All these things were important to me, but I thought I'd have to request them.
As for how I'm feeling:
Remember the severe mid-back pain I whined about all of the time? Well, for whatever reason, that disappeared. It seemed to coincide with when the baby moved into the right side of my belly. I don't know why he likes hanging out with his head shoved into my pelvic bone, but I sure do feel better.
On the negative side, my feet and ankles started swelling something awful. And now that it's so hot, I feel compelled to cover up with long pants instead of wearing breezy dresses. It's a dignity thing. It's easy to tell me not to care, but I do care. I have very few ways in which I can feel like a decent-looking human being. Therefore, I do what I can. A pedicure, eyebrow wax, makeup, style my hair. Shave my legs, you know. I still look like a cow, but at least I TRY to be pretty. Sometimes I try to hide all of the bad stuff with inappropriately fancy jewelry. I'm not sure if it's foolin' anyone.
I'm totally prepared for the baby, as far as supplies and the nursery go. And mentally and physically, too. Actually, I have not done my Kegel exercises or my perineum massages, and I'll probably pay for that eventually, but I'm just coasting along for a few weeks, looking forward to some time off of work and meeting my precious son. I also haven't picked a pediatrician. Maybe I should do that sometime soon. Sleep has already become rather difficult, so maybe I'll be a little prepared for exhaustion on some level. I'm totally ready to be able to move -- dying to go for a walk! My pelvis hurts with each step I take, so it's really frustrating.
I'll leave you with my cankles/puffy feet. Oh, they get much worse than this. I got to take a nap today, so my earlier swelling went down and then I started over. But at least my toenails are pretty!
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Nursery is finished
I've finally finished the baby's room. I'm only 4-1/2 weeks away from my due date, you know!
I've shown you the fabrics before:
Step right in ...
These are the cheapo shelves I once tried to paint with regular paint. Up close, they look just awful. But they came in handy.
I selected the crib online, and did a terrible job of matching the wood to my existing furniture. Too much trouble to send back, though.
The crib will turn into a toddler bed and then a full-size bed.
The mobile was custom made by etsy seller Buggalove. I hand-embroidered the dinosaurs in the frames.
I sewed all of the bedding and such from fabrics I got at Warehouse Fabrics Inc. You can see them here, here, here and here. I used Vogue 7245 pattern, which I wouldn't recommend. The instructions were awful and the techniques lacking.
This is a toy holder.
The bumpers are a little loose fitting and need some more work if I choose to use them.
A little hamper, a rocking horse that was handed down to me by a co-worker and a photo holder that I made.
I later decided to whip up this pleated valance for the window. It did a lot for the room, really, and was easy to make. I made a tutorial here.
I ended up ordering the cheapest glider chair I could find at Target, and it is really quite comfy! I made the quilt and diaper holder, too.
The dresser from my guest bedroom set stayed in the room and will double as a changing table.
(My cat really likes the changing pad for a bed.)
JackKnits on etsy.com custom made these dinosaurs for me, and the colors really matched well.
Now I just need to get the bags packed!
Oh, and go into labor and stuff.
I've shown you the fabrics before:
Step right in ...
These are the cheapo shelves I once tried to paint with regular paint. Up close, they look just awful. But they came in handy.
I selected the crib online, and did a terrible job of matching the wood to my existing furniture. Too much trouble to send back, though.
The crib will turn into a toddler bed and then a full-size bed.
The mobile was custom made by etsy seller Buggalove. I hand-embroidered the dinosaurs in the frames.
I sewed all of the bedding and such from fabrics I got at Warehouse Fabrics Inc. You can see them here, here, here and here. I used Vogue 7245 pattern, which I wouldn't recommend. The instructions were awful and the techniques lacking.
This is a toy holder.
The bumpers are a little loose fitting and need some more work if I choose to use them.
A little hamper, a rocking horse that was handed down to me by a co-worker and a photo holder that I made.
I later decided to whip up this pleated valance for the window. It did a lot for the room, really, and was easy to make. I made a tutorial here.
I ended up ordering the cheapest glider chair I could find at Target, and it is really quite comfy! I made the quilt and diaper holder, too.
The dresser from my guest bedroom set stayed in the room and will double as a changing table.
(My cat really likes the changing pad for a bed.)
JackKnits on etsy.com custom made these dinosaurs for me, and the colors really matched well.
Now I just need to get the bags packed!
Oh, and go into labor and stuff.
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