Friday, December 29, 2006

All I want for Christmas...

..is a maid and a massage therapist, so the therapist can whisper, "Lulu is cleaning the house," as he rubs the tension out of my shoulders.

We had Christmas and it was super. We are now home again. Jake is happy; Niles is pouting. Would write more but A is apparently hungry.

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Leaving on a jet plane

Or so we freaking hope.

We had a lovely dinner with J & T and J's 'rents last night, an indulgence since we're going to be in CO when T makes pierogies for Christmas. They were delicious (and so was the ham). We got home around 10PM.

A slept (mostly) while C and I packed. It took us until 2AM to pack every thing. A woke up at 5:25 on the nose to eat, so I fed him and gather the last essentials we'd forgotten in our midnight stupor (infant Tylenol, wipes) that still need to go in the suitcase. This is all the crap we'll be lugging along:
  • One huge-ass suitcase big enough for the entire damn family to climb in. Checked.
  • One Pack-N-Play, with sheets. Checked.
  • One matching bag with books, food (cookies!), second-string back-ups for A and my other nursing bra, since you just can't go buy a huge-ass nursing bra at the 7-11. Carry-on.
  • One duffle containing winter gear: boots, hats, scarves, etc. Carry-on due to essential nature of winter gear coupled with lack of desire to wear Bean boots in SD airport.
  • One diaper bag, filled to the freaking brim with diapers and A's first-string back-up outfits. Carry-on.
  • One purse, filled with all the liquids that I can't replace easily in case I am separated from my checked luggage. Carry-on.
  • One freaking huge car seat, with base, to be lugged on the plane. Carry-on.
  • Coats for all. Not taking the full-length wool. Carry-on.
  • Baby Bjorn and Peanut Shell baby carriers for baby portability. Carry-on.

We're sleep-deprived, but we're traveling. I MUST shower. Have a merry Christmas if I don't catch you until after the merriment.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Sleep deprivation and snowstorms

I'm really so tired that I'm having problems completing coherent sentences.

C, A and I took our alphabet soup selves to Julie and Terry's last night to help in the pierogie-making process since we're going to have ourselves some merry little pierogies before we leave town. We were there late, then we had to get up early today for trash and the mechanic's. So we're tired here (everyone but A, it seems).

I get clumsier when I get tired. I was doing a Christmas-surprise-related chore that required being on hands and knees on the floor, and in my tiredness stood up under the dining room table. I might be short, but I'm not that short. So now I've got a nasty mark on the small of my back.

I had grand plans for today that involved packing, laundry, and Christmas-surprise-related chores, but I think the next grand plan is going to be take A to bed and try to nap. Ugh. Don't even get me started on trying to call the airline or DIA.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Anarchy in the diaper nation

I have become one of those mothers. You know, the mom who changes her baby on the bench at the zoo.

But I was driven to it by Staples. And A was on a changing pad the entire time and nothing gross touched the bench. The diaper came home with us to be discarded, like the zoo doesn't have waste products but we are of a "pack it out" mentality here.

A and I got the task of shipping off the holiday gifts, so we found ourselves at Staples yesterday. This required putting A in the sling, getting a cart, unloading the boxes from the car, and waiting in line. A made it all through the addressing of four boxes before he started to have a fit. Then he started wailing.

He needed a new diaper, so the nice lady at Staples reassured me that I could go change him while she printed up my bill. There was no changing table in the bathroom, so I ended up on the floor, trying to spread a ghastly amount of paper towels under me, my baby, and the diaper bag. Bathroom floors are gross.

How does this relate to the zoo? Well, once I felt like society really didn't care about my diaper-changing needs as a mom, I decided society had left me at large to determine my own problem-solving mission for meeting those needs. Hence, anarchy in the diaper nation.

But it's truly a cop-out, since I know the zoo has diaper changing tables in the bathrooms. But the nearest bathroom was far away and I swear he didn't touch the bench. Plus there wasn't anyone around (I wouldn't change him without asking nearby people if it was okay) and we were on a less-traveled stroller/wheelchair access route through the zoo.

Anyway, I will ask before I change my baby next to you. I won't change the baby on the table at a restaurant. I will use the diaper changing stations when available and prudent. But I understand where that mom in Wendy's was coming from now.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Dental December

Niles got his teeth cleaned last week and did well. Jake got his teeth cleaned Monday and had to have a couple teeth out, which makes us officially horrible kitty parents. Our bad cat dental care karma bit me in the ass when I broke a tooth while Jake was under the knife. It also just could be the generations of toothless and snaggle-toothed in my ancestry catching up with me--I'm doing great to still have my teeth. So now I've got a temporary crown (my first one) and our dental bills for December have climbed into the four-digit numbers.

Mistah A is ferociously biting his hands and our knuckles, but no teeth yet. I'm hoping we'll still get time for a family portrait before he cuts his first tooth but that may not happen. We're on a growth spurt officially again, eating every two to three hours or more often, which is cutting into our sleep and our holiday preparations like you wouldn't believe.

Friday, December 08, 2006

Woo hoo, nine hours of sleep!

That's right, A-fans; the boy slept from 7PM until 4AM last night. Now his stupid parents didn't go to bed until 10PM, but wow, last night was a nice night.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Competition and babies...

...go together like cops and robbers. I was going to say maple syrup and ham, but the baby competition is nowhere near that delicious.

I have a sibling with developmental disabilities, which I realize now was a really good lesson in enjoying babies for who they are and where they are. I had no idea how terribly competitive mothers are. Example: at the vet, picking up Niles, a woman asks me how old A is. I tell her and she says, "He's a big boy."

I say, "Yes, he was almost sixteen pounds at his four month checkup." I wasn't bragging. I was being quantitative and I haven't gotten him weighed lately.

She says, "I have a five-month-old daughter. She was sixteen and a half pounds at her four month checkup. 97th percentile! I told the doctor, 'I swear I'm not feeding her every time she cries.'" I felt the compulsion to simultaneously explain that it was actually 3 and a half months when A had his checkup and that we're breastfeeding and not formula feeding so we're still feeding on cue. There was probably a small lecture about breastfeeding in there too. I squashed it all.

The baby competition is something fierce. How big is just the start. There's the wildly popular "Is he sleeping through the night?" because hours of sleep is absolutely correlated to superior parenting. There's also the always nebulous, "Is he a good baby?" No, he's a bad baby; he's been hanging out with the Baby Mafia and they have some shady money-laundering activities going on. He's not colicky, but he's also not willing to wallow in his own crapulance.

I can't imagine the competitiveness that's going to happen once he can crawl, walk, and talk. I'm not having any of it. I'm pretty sure I have the cutest, sweetest baby in the universe and I'm pretty sure every other parent feels the same way.

Saturday, December 02, 2006

Flu shot


I got a flu shot Tuesday. I got it at the local supermarket because my GP was all out of his first batch of vaccine and didn't know when the next one was coming. As the "primary caretaker of an infant," I get to be in the category of high-risk people who should get one.

I head to the local supermarket at the appointed time. The guy giving the shots takes my money to pay for the shot (in his latex gloves), then gives a shot to the guy ahead of me (without changing the gloves). I've got Mistah A in the sling and so I watch the guy give shots to the next two people (and touch the cash register) without changing gloves. I just read Dr. Oz's patient book (which is excellent, btw) but it will give you the heebie jeebies if you see someone trying to give you a shot with non-sterile gloves.

So I lie. I say, "Say, do you have to change gloves after you touch the cash register? I used to work in a deli and we always had to change gloves after we touched the cash register." I feel okay about saying this because it's not, "You disgusting man, what are you doing?" and I used to do mystery shopping for a grocery chain and this is one of the things I was told to watch for.

"You know, they didn't cover that in training." He changes gloves and is very nice about it. We make small talk about how wonderful babies are; he has a ten-month-old son. He gives me the shot.

Tuesday night (late), I wake up and realize I have a raised puffy red patch about two inches in diameter around the injection site. I call my doctor's office and they say, "Hmm, bigger than a quarter? Big as a half dollar? Come on in." I said it was the size of a silver dollar but apparently the new dollar coins have messed up that reference.

Anyway, long story short too late, the guy injected the vaccine too low and I'm having a mild reaction to it. But that was Tuesday and I've still got it today, although it's less pink and puffy. Grumble grumble.

ETA: The photo's not the best in the universe and the spot isn't brilliant puffy pink anymore, but this is what it looks like six days after the shot.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

Thanksgiving and milestones

We did have Thanksgiving. It was super. There were no mice. We had a grand and glorious dinner, including Terry's mom's famous stuffing made from liver. It was good, more like pate than the stuffings of my youth. Mistah C ended up holding young A throughout the end of dinner, for which I was thankful. As my grandmother always said for grace, may we all be together again next year, especially me.

We went to the vet today* where A saw his first dog, a big beautiful sweet Weimaraner, and his first Christmas tree. He did not want to stop looking at the tree, but he did for the people who would fuss over him. "Are those blue eyes?" Yah, you betcha.

I don't want to get hung up on the developmental minutae of A, largely because this is something I will find pretty easy to obsess about and that way lies madness. But here are our most recent milestones. He's laughing now (and boy, once he laughed, the whole world was a better place. Forget that every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings claptrap; it's baby laughing that births stars). He's rolled back to front and front to back and does full-arm push-ups. He's making lots of baby noises with multivowel and consonant-vowel sounds (but he's always done that). He coos along with me while I sing to him like he's trying to sing. He's got big baby grins that he used to reserve for me and C that he's starting to hand out to other people. He's pretty sweet.

* After the mouse incident, I realized I was a bad kitty guardian and as such needed to take the cats in. So yesterday they were pronounced fine and in need of dental cleanings. Niles got his today and Jake will get his in another week, poor baby. He has to be put under for it and I'm worried about that. Niles was a champ with the non-sedated cleaning today, or so the tech told me.

Monday, November 20, 2006

Action! Adventure! Girly screaming!

That's right, folks. I had myself a full-on girlie panic attack here in the household today. It's Niles' fault.

I was on the phone with Julie. While I was on the phone, I noticed my sweet white kitten paying particular attention to the right side of the refrigerator. I even went to find a flashlight to see if I saw anything unusual. I don't. Niles is rapt.

A's still sleeping when I get off the phone. I am about to sit on the couch to fold the last of Master A's laundry when Niles skulks through with a mouse in his mouth. I shriek. I yell. I don't even know what I yelled because I left my brain for a minute to yell and yell. My throat is still sore from all the yelling. (A slept right through, btw.)

Niles runs to the stairs and drops the mouse. It runs away. He catches it and looks at me with the mouse in his mouth. The mouse is wriggling. Niles is running with the guilty "I've got something good" skulk that means he's trying to get somewhere inaccessible to me as quickly as possible.

Now, it has always been a topic of postulation around these parts since our cats are unusual and ill-bred for life alone in the cruel world (not that any cat should be, but our cats are particularly ill-equipped with the pretty but unsubstantial coats), what would happen if one of them got a mouse. When I grew up, we had cats who would bring home stunned mice to train their kittens to hunt. We would inevitably find half-chewed mice later. I don't think Niles' mother taught him to hunt. This is what Niles does with a mouse: bats at the mouse, picks it up with his mouth, then puts it down again so he can run after it again.

But, back to me and my screaming. I run and get a bowl because I figure I'm going to have to catch the mouse. A bowl seems like a fine idea to me since I can slam it over the mouse and then figure out what to do. Niles takes the mouse up the stairs. He drops it a couple steps from the top and the time it takes him to pick up the mouse again gives me enough time to overtake Niles.

Now we are in the hallway at the top of the stairs. Niles has the mouse in his mouth. I think, I wonder if the mouse is still alive and the mouse blinks at me. Blinks. (I was almost tempted to use bold there, but I didn't.) Then it wriggles around and nips Niles. Niles lets go of the mouse and it runs into the corner. I'm trying to figure out how to clamp the bowl on the mouse when the mouse makes a break for it and runs the other way. Niles picks the mouse up and runs into my office with it.

My office has the activity gym for the darling baby (still strapped into his bouncy chair and sound asleep). Niles comes within a foot of the activity gym and drops the mouse. The desire to protect A's plaything is greater than my desire to trap the mouse so I flip the gym up on the futon and lose sight of the mouse.

The mouse is gone, somewhere in my office. So now I panic for real. I can't find the mouse; the baby's downstairs and I don't know if I have to take the cat to the vet. I don't know if we all need vaccines for hantavirus. I am seriously freaking out.

I call my husband and have a dickens of a time trying to even communicate that I have actually seen a mouse at close quarters. I'm incoherent enough that he takes his lunch to come home and mouse hunt with me (and talk me down). I close the office door and stuff a towel under it.

Then I call Julie back to ask for a vet's name so I can take my poor Niles in for a checkup since he's been nipped. I look carefully at Niles at this point (who is skulking by the fridge hoping for another mouse to play with) and don't see any blood but I'm still pretty panicked. Then I call the vet, whose receptionist is sure I should take my pet to the emergency room until I tell her there's no blood. Well, no blood, probably fine, don't worry about it. I make an appointment for a checkup for both cats with the vet for next week to assauge my bad-pet-guardian guilt. I put a piece of cheese in the bowl and put it in the center of the room as mouse bait. I think about rigging a Survivorman-esque stick and rock mouse trap but I have no stick.

C comes in the door just as A is waking up. He goes looking for the mouse to no avail. Every closet and room in the house is between the mouse and freedom. So he looks for the mouse point of entry and discovers none where there were before, so the mouse must have come in the garage door. Niles eats the cheese in my mouse bowl/trap.

We're about to head out for real mousetraps, so I go upstairs to get my money and find Niles investigating the towel in the doorway. I look at the towel and there's Mr. Mouse. I start yelling for C. I sound like Basil Fawlty in the fire drill episode. (Mouse! Mouse there!) He looks at me and says, "Where should I put it?" I dump out a plastic lidded container on our bed and bring it to him. He dumps the towel in and slams the lid, trapping the mouse. My hero!

We take the mouse outside to the woods and set him free. C called me later to say that we'd done a proper Sopranos warning: had our cat rough up the mouse, then let him go so he could tell his friends not to mess with us.

Now I'm tired and plenty embarrassed about behaving like a girl. But we don't have a mouse in the house so it's okay.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Breakthrough night

Eureka, we had a wonderful 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep last night. Yee haw! It's amazing to sleep for six hours straight.

Even more amazing, A laughed for the first time today. We were about to head out to do some shopping pre-holiday madness (too late), and in the middle of play-walking A across the back of the sofa, he laughed, an honest-to-goodness laugh. We're all thrilled here with our teeny little super guy. A baby laugh just makes the world a better place instantly.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

A shout out to Miss Julie

I wrapped up my weekend summary without mentioning how very cool Miss J is.

We went to dinner Saturday night at the Outback. Aidric wasn't happy unless someone was holding him. I called ahead for "call ahead" seating and mentioned that we would have three people plus one baby in a ar carrier who would need a sling (in this case, a glorified baggage holder for car seats).

Once we're seated, we're told there are no slings available. They offer us a high chair to put the car seat on, but being the overprotective first time parents we are, we think it's a little precarious. So we're holding A.

Mistah C takes A for a diaper change. Our waitress comes by to ask for the second or third time if we know what drinks we want yet. She's mildly huffy but still within the bounds of politeness. "Actually, we're still waiting on a sling," Miss Julie says, "since if we don't have a sling, then someone has to hold the baby and then they have no hands to eat with. So we'll be ready with our order after we get that sling."

I could have kissed her. It's exactly the kind of assertive statement with expectations made crystal clear the situation needed, and C and I were too tired to come up with expectations for anything.

Not long after that, a sling materialized. Of course, A was so fussy that he didn't want to be in the car carrier and we ended up hot potato-ing him through dinner, with Miss Julie holding him while C and I horsed down our entrees. She put him to sleep and we kept him asleep all the day home. But it was so nice for both of us to eat hot food, and it was so nice to have the baby sleep.

Four (well, three and a half) month checkup

We went to the doctor's this morning. A is sleeping off the trauma of four immunization shots (he screamed and screamed and was beet red) so I can let you know that Master A is doing great. He is 15 pounds, 14 ounces and 26 inches long, which puts him in the 75th percentile for weight and the 95th percentile for height.

The doctor thinks he's probably teething by the way he won't stop chewing on his hands, even though the teeth might not show up for months. She thinks the sleep disruption of last week was probably a growth spurt and she thinks it's okay if he's sleeping in 4-5 hour shifts still, which was somewhat of a relief to hear.

The good news is that she doesn't have a problem with us doing an international trip with him in April; in fact, she said go now because going later won't be as easy. She said the worst time to travel with him will be a year and a half since that's the point where all he'll want to do will be run around. Two, two and a half he'll be interested in things and the act of going, but one and a half it'll be all about him moving as much as possible. But she said to go now since once he's older we'll have to keep our eyes mostly on him and not on the sights.

It looks like we'll be traveling this spring. I need to read some travel books.

Monday, November 13, 2006

And on the sleep...

We did get some more sleep this weekend. Saturday and Sunday we got better sleep. My darling husband let me read, shower and sleep in abandon Friday night after he got home while he watched A and played video games.

We're thinking maybe A was just overtired to the point where he couldn't get himself to sleep. He is chewing on everything and has gotten pretty drooly, so maybe there's teething going on. I don't see any teeth poking through but I'm sure teeth are annoying before they break through. We'll check with the doctor this week. Would write more but just got him to nap and I need to shower before we can go do our grand errands for the day.

He rolled over!

He rolled over at two weeks, but that was apparently bad rolling over. This was proper rolling over, from belly to back. Woo hoo!

Friday, November 10, 2006

And just when you think he'd have to sleep...

We've gone since Tuesday with a horrible sleep pattern, which is not a lot of sleep. He's at three and a half months. Baby books don't help. They were written by people who obviously had no children or long enough after the children were grown so the parents were being nostalgic for a time when their children needed them every minute instead of asking to be let out of the car a block from school.

One book insists that he should be eating five (and maybe six, seven, or eight) times a day now. He's eaten five times since midnight and no, I don't think he'll only eat three more times today. Then I think maybe he's not getting enough to eat and that's why he's eating all the time. Then I take him to infant massage and get him weighed and find out he's getting close to 16 pounds. The kid is eating. He's deliciously plump. The witch from Hansel and Gretel would snap him up in a second.

Another suspect for night waking at the three-month mark is that he's just so interested in things that he's forgetting to eat and has to tank up at night. I might believe this if he wasn't eating at least every two to three hours during the day and putting on a half pound every week.

So I'm at my worst when I have absolutely no book advice to guide me or console me. We've tried keeping him up in the evening; we've tried letting him sleep. I've tried waking up and feeding him until he is absolutely running over. Nothing seems to help.

I thought maybe he was bored going just on errands with me during the day so I took him to the (world famous) zoo. We did great to start with, trotted off to see the pandas. If you haven't been (and you really should go), the pandas are in a walled-off section of the zoo with many, many signs saying, "Please keep your voices down so as not to disturb the pandas." We get to the absolute center of the panda exhibit and bam, A starts yelling. Blood-curdling, please look my mom is murdering me,the volume goes up to 11 yelling. So I apologize to the panda attendant and try to make my way out as quickly as possible with all the herds of people blocking the walkway. Thank you, clueless parents with big-ass strollers, for being so stupidly oblivious and blocking the damn ramp while I subtly change my "Excuse me" to an "Excuse you!" May I never join your ilk.

I sat and played with him out of earshot of the pandas, but the unfortunate problem is that the pandas are right in the middle of the zoo and the zoo is very hilly. So once playing was done and he was returned to the stroller, that was a lot of pushing uphill with a screaming baby, including getting splattered with bird poop in the aviary the stroller path passes through. He fell asleep not long after the bird cages that are by the koalas, for you locals or SD Zoo addicts.

I think the worst part is that now he's found his voice and boy can he yell. I haven't placed blame for this on one side of the family or the other (yet) since both sides can fairly lay claim to a good throaty yelling ability. But if the sleeplessness goes on much longer I'm going to lay the blame with the ILs. We're seeing the pediatrician next week for his (ersatz) four-month check up and so hopefully she'll have some advice.

Three months does seem to be the "lights on, someone's home" part of babydom, though. He's just gotten so outgoing and talkative that it's fun when it's not 2AM. He sings along with me when I sing at him while I change his diaper. He's cooing and smiling a lot. Right now he is desperately trying to sit up from a recline on my lap. Everything is going in his mouth nowadays, so he's got that down too. This weekend we'll have to go get him some clothes since he's rapidly approaching the weight limits of most of his 6-month sized stuff.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Wow, long time, no update

Random notes here before I fill out my absentee ballot and vote. I took a quiz to tell me what kind of accent I have and yes, I am from the Northeast.

What American accent do you have?
Your Result: The Northeast

Judging by how you talk you are probably from north Jersey, New York City, Connecticut or Rhode Island. Chances are, if you are from New York City (and not those other places) people would probably be able to tell if they actually heard you speak.

Philadelphia
The Inland North
The Midland
Boston


We had no trick or treaters for Halloween. We had a boy in a cute tiger costume but it was too hot for him to wear all evening. I may still take him for professional pictures in his costume for his three month picture.

Master A is at 15 pounds and change at the last weigh-in (Friday), not bad for three months. He is huge. Huge! I'm glad we finally got the crib set up. He likes it a lot more than the basinette, probably because we don't have a bumper on it so he can see out of the crib easily. The mobile is interesting to him, as are the various toys we've got in the crib for him to look at. He's getting more self-amusing, which is good.

We had our Bradley class reunion Friday night. It was fun to see everyone and all the babies. I don't think any of them were as cute as our own, but I've been told he's extraordinarily beautiful. Oh, and I'm biased. Mistah A slept through the group baby pictures, probably so as not to blind the other parents with his gorgeous blue eyes (still no sign of changing, btw). He's so sweet that way.

Chocolate fountains are not good potluck food, just in case anyone wants my opinion.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Good heavens, it's been a while, hasn't it?

Let's see. We have a stroller and it's wonderful. We have taken it to the zoo, the mall, and places in between. Nordstrom's women's lounge is great for breastfeeding. I attempted shoe shopping today and Master A was only happy in the stroller as long as we were moving. That made it difficult to try on shoes. We met C for lunch pre-Target and Master A slept the entire time in the sling. He's sleeping still, so I am blogging. C and I even managed to take the sling off me with the baby still in it so I could go to the bathroom, then put it back on me without waking A. Amazing!

A's been on a feeding binge, which might explain the lack of blogging. He's been eating every two hours again for the last, oh, three or four days. I've been getting out when I can to the infant massage class, which is nice, especially because they have a scale where I can weigh him pre- and post-feeding to see how much he's getting (3.5-4 oz. a feeding, if you're wondering). Last week, he was 13 pounds, 6 ounces, but now on the cusp of 12 weeks, he is now 14 pounds, 2 ounces. He's huge. That's a huge jump in weight from one week to the next.

We got a crib this week at Target. We tried to get one at the Baby Hellhole but they weren't carrying the one we liked in stock, so Target it was. We're not into this fancy schmancy nursery stuff, still renting here. I've also ordered a diaper bag for myself, since the one we have isn't big enough for all the crap I want to carry when I'm out all day (my wallet and phone, another outfit, his hat).

I packed up the last of my work stuff today. All that's left is to pack up my PC and ship it back, which should be happening tomorrow. I need to call FedEx for a pickup.

My ILs are coming back to town, which is a welcome surprise so soon after their last visit, but that means that the house needs to be a lot cleaner than it currently is. I bought toilet cleaner at Target so there is hope.

Our darling boy is getting much more engaging, smiling responsively and staying awake and alert for longer periods of time. He's more self-amusing as well, which is nice. He's working on his hands, namely getting his thumb in his mouth. This means he spends a lot of time with his hands straight out in front of him balled into little fists. It looks like he's driving a car.

I scooped ice cream and the cats have abandoned me so I bet they're eating it. Drat.

Monday, October 09, 2006

I'm on a bathroom break

...and I'm holding up dinner as such, but I'm here to report that I have officially given my notice at my place of employment. Yes, I have taken the final step towards being a stay-at-home mom.

I'm tired. Master A got up at 4 and didn't sleep well and we all caved into being awake at 5. A and took a nap while C went to work, but it wasn't enough and I didn't have any tea and now I have a headache like you wouldn't believe. But even with the sleep deprivation and cranky baby, I'm starting to feel free in a way I haven't felt in years.

Saturday, September 30, 2006

It's Saturday, right?

I'm awake from the early morning feeding and everyone else is asleep. I don't even have a cat to keep me company. (Ah, here comes my fluffernutter. Okay!)

Let's see; what news on a baby front? We weren't going to get a stroller and just carry the boychik around in a carrier, but I discovered at the mall this week that there are limitations to that method. One is my aching back. Two is the fact that I couldn't try on any clothes when shopping by myself without putting the baby down on the floor of the dressing rooms, which was a little too gross for me yet. So we did stroller shopping this week.

Shopping for strollers is confounding. I was so glad to have read The Paradox of Choice while our friends Mr. and Mrs. Bump were out here. Mr. B let me snag his copy when he was off cooking for us; talk about a good deal. Anyway, part of what Schwartz talks about is how choices across the entire spectrum have proliferated over the past few decades, leading to the expectation that there is a perfect choice out there to meet every single one of your needs, leading to you being crazy while trying to make a choice and unsatisfied once you do.

Boy howdy should Barry Schwartz go shopping for baby strollers. There are six different types of strollers, dozens of manufacturers, then hundreds of models. My bible on baby products admits that most people have two (or more!) strollers. Heck, even my baby product bible is still short-sighted enough to only be dealing with a good stroller choice for a baby, not a good stroller choice for the whole baby-through-toddler year, so I should be shopping for a stroller again in a year or so.

Anyway, I ordered this stroller from a place online. It's a lightweight umbrella stroller which should work for our lifestyle. It's more expensive than a $20 throwaway model but it should last until he's 55 pounds, at which point I would hope Master A would be hauling his own butt around. This model has adjustable height handles, a bonus when there's a foot's height difference between Mommy and Daddy. And yes, for those of you steeped in baby product brand names, this is a more hoity-toity brand than say, Graco, but we didn't get it because it's what the royals and celebrities are using (besides, they've all moved on to the Bugaboo Frog). The main drawback to the Mac was that there is no napper bar. For those of you not familiar with strollers, a napper bar is the waist-height tray in front of the baby. It commonly has toys, cupholders, or even snack trays attached to it. It's not a bad thing for Master A to not be able to munch on the go.

Wow, everyone's really sleeping! The other excitement is that I took A to have his picture taken yesterday. That was bizarre. I was curious about how they would get babies to smile since A stops smiling every time I take out the camera. The camera is fixed in position and has a trigger button on a line. The photographer puts the baby in position in front of the camera, then gets right up in the baby's face, blocking the baby's view of the camera. The photographer then makes ridiculous noises, faces, etc., to get the baby to smile. A was more than a little confused and concerned by the photographer talking gibberish. C and I usually just ask him if he can smile while grinning like madmen. Once the baby smiles, the photographer hits the deck and pushes the trigger. Between hitting the deck and the flash, A was confused enough about why the photographer was leaving when they were just getting along so well that we just got little smiles out of him. But he's a cutie.

Our pictures are fine, although I discovered that I was the wrong person to pick out pictures. I found all the pictures adorable and as such I had a hard time saying no to anything that wasn't just a not-great picture of him. So I bought more than I should have for our picture needs, even though I had a list of how many pictures we would need to guide me in my decision-making process. Next time I'll have to be more ruthless (or take someone along with me for editing and counsel).

My only plan for this weekend was to sleep in and that's not panned out. Maybe tomorrow.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

We did it!

The house is sold, glorious day! It's sad to have sold our wonderful house but it's wonderful to not have a mortgage to pay.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Life with a baby isn't conducive to blogging

But I know people are ravenous for updates.

My car was recovered and spent all of last week at the mechanic's. Nothing horribly bad happened to it although someone did smoke in it (sigh) and some things were missing, like the paperwork, a notepad and a jar of peanut butter. A and I had our first trip in the car together today; we took it to the Fashion Valley Mall to get the car detailed so I would feel better about putting my darling boy in it. The car wash people were super and the car is as gorgeous as an eighteen-year-old car can be. I'll have to take a picture. A did splendidly in the car with me; slept the whole time.

I was going to try and make it to infant massage class after the detailing, but the detailing took longer than anticipated and I missed it. This also meant I carried Mistah A around the mall in his Peanut Shell for about two hours total, which was long for me and my back's sore now. I ended up treating myself to an American Coca-Cola for my efforts, when I was pretty much off all carbonated beverages except root beer. Anyway, I will try to get my darling boy to infant massage next week.

What else? My ILs came for a too short visit, but they were just ever so helpful in all the drama around recovering the car (one place for paperwork, another to actually get the car). Not to mention the fact that they helped C in cleaning the garage so that we can park both cars in it and not worry quite so much about the car disappearing again. And my MIL cleraned my kitchen which I haven't spent much time in since A was born. I have been horrified when I've been in it so that was wonderful.

Master A had an incredibly cranky day yesterday where he was either sleeping lightly or crying. I didn't eat anything weird so I don't know what it was. He's been making up for it today by sleeping incredibly soundly and smiling at me when he is awake. It's like he saved up all his smiles for today.

I don't think I'm doing horribly at home alone. I've had a couple days where C comes home and I basically drop the baby on him and disappear for email, a shower, or reading an article in the New Yorker straight through, but I think I'm getting more adapted to A's quirks. The house is still a mess and I've not mastered multitasking yet, but we're alive and fed and that's what's important.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Hump Day

Good grief it's Thursday, isn't it? When Project Runway isn't on, it just messes up my sense of the week. My sense of the week has only recently been rejuvenate by Mistah C's return to the corporate world.

Mistah C is off to the dentist. Young master A is sleeping after waking us up at 5AM (well, waking me up at probably 4AM to eat for a long time then waking up Daddy at 5AM for a change and a load of laundry caused by pee leakage). I can read mail and blog in peace with a darling Jakey-cat purring in my lap.

The week's been good so far, although last night at 5:30 Master A got cranky and wouldn't calm down. Offered him a bite, he wasn't hungry. Changed him, he was dry. Tried to burp him, wasn't having it. No amount of cuddling and jiggling was helping. When Mistah C came home, I had young master A in the bouncy seat on vibrate with my finger in his mouth. This was still only keeping him moderately happy.

So far, we're at two days in PJ and one day successfully dressed. Let's see if I can't get successfully dressed again today.

Monday, September 18, 2006

First day on our own

The wonderful Mistah C returned to the corporate world today and young Master A and I stayed home.

I'm still in my PJs. I ate lunch at 3. And while I thought I had finally gotten A down for a nap, now he's crying. So much for catching up.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Holy cow, they found my car

It's being towed to the garage, so a status update of what actually happened to it will follow then. The car was found in La Jolla one block from the beach with a tote bag filled with a woman's street clothes in the trunk, so it was towed courtesy of SDPD before someone was done with my car. We're having a heck of a laugh imaging someone walking back from the beach to her (stolen) car to find it gone.

A back window was broken and the ignition's been messed with, but the car apparently started and there was no easily apparent damage. But there you go.

No one is stirring...

Except little ol' me. The ILs are a-coming today and I've got my six week checkup just as their plane lands, so I'm already showered and eagerly anticipating the go-ahead for exercise.

Not much other news. We had lunch with a friend from birth class and her beautiful baby girl yesterday at a lovely place in Pacific Beach with seating in a garden area. I'm going to have to get Miz J to go (and possibly Miz J's mom if the garden's still looking nice in November) because it is just the sort of place she would like, I think.

It's the last week of paternity leave for Mistah C, so I'm just loving it up. I don't know what I will do next week. It'll be one day at a time, I guess.

No news on my car. The insurance agent said if cars are recovered, they are usually recovered within a week. I'm trying to imagine about my car's second life as a sturdy family vehicle for some down-and-out people who can use it to better themselves and their situation. It's easier to have Horatio Alger fantasies than it is to think about it being callously carved up for parts.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

To pump or not to pump

We've actually settled the question, but it's all still a bit odd here.

Yesterday we went out and bought a breast pump. It's a lightweight Medela intended for occasional use. That meant we had to buy bottles and breast milk storage bags.

Anyway, there was some question as to whether or not Master A would take a bottle, but last night I pumped an ounce of breast milk. We put it in a bottle and Mistah C gave it to A. He gulped it down like nothing and cried when there was no more. So it seems to be going okay so far.

I'm a little torn. Part of me wanted him to not take a bottle (the "I want Mom and nothing else will do!" mentality); part of me didn't want to pump at all so that the whole feeding would be mine, kit and kaboodle. Part of me feels like a heel because pumping milk is essentially planning on being away from my baby at some point, even though I've got nothing planned that would separate us right now.

I know it's better to be pumping and that we're at the outside edge of him even accepting the bottle so it needed to happen this week. I'll appreciate having bottles of milk available if I want to go get my haircut and leave him with someone else. If I ever get stuck in traffic when we're apart and A needs to be fed, I'll be glad he takes bottles and that I've got milk in the fridge. If my milk changes taste after exercising and I just need to expel that milk to get to better milk, I'll be really glad to have the pump. But it's still sad. While I was pregnant, someone told me that after pregnancy, the job of the rest of the kid's immediate life (like the next 18 years) is separating from Mom. That's normal and proper, but I didn't think it would start happening so soon.

Monday, September 11, 2006

Oy vey!

The car theft bumped young master A's latest height/weight stats out of my head.

At six weeks, he is 10 pounds, 11 ounces and 22 1/4 inches, which puts him at exactly 50% for both height and weight. More than that, it means we are breastfeeding just fine.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Make sure you take photos of those you love...

...because you're not sure when they will slip away.

No, we're all fine. I'm talking about my car. My wonderful old beater of a car was apparently stolen sometime between Mistah C's trip to Ralph's and Trader Joe's last night and our trip out this morning to the zoo. We called the tow company (not that it was parked illegally) and they didn't tow it. We filed a police report.

If you know my car, you're laughing your ass off already. My car is (was) a 1988 Volvo 740 that had seen better days. It had 188,000 miles on it. The AC wasn't working well. It was too noisy to have any decent conversations. It boasted an AM/FM radio and not great speakers. I do not know why anyone would want it. I don't think there was any identifying information in the car, but I've filed an identity alert just in case.

But it was a turbo, had a seat that raised high enough for short little me, and I loved it. I learned to drive on that car from my FIL and I think he ended up selling it to me because I just liked the car so darned much. I took good care of it for nine years.

My car's been sitting in the cul-de-sac since I've been on driving restrictions since the C-section. We saw it last night and this morning it was gone. Not a trace of my darling car.

Now the car is eighteen years old, so Mistah C has suggested calling the runaway hotline instead of the car theft hotline. Maybe it's emancipated. I've also thought that I loved the car so much that the universe knew I would not give it up easily and took care of that for me.

At some point we will have to discuss new wheels, which is something I wasn't planning on thinking about until my car was 25 years old, but right now, I'm caught between mourning and hysterically laughing at the thought of someone stealing my car. If you love your car, make sure you get some pictures.

Friday, September 08, 2006

Vaccinations and Baths

Young master A's having a rough day today. He had a bath this morning that he did not enjoy. Our water bill will probably go through the roof because we ended up turning on the water to soothe our little pumpkin. He likes the sound of running water.

Then we went to the pediatrician for our six week checkup and first round of immunizations. Boy howdy, he got four shots and turned purple, screaming his head off. Tears welled up in my eyes. Yes, I know he needs vaccinations, but oh, I'm so glad he's got some more rounds of immunizations to go before he's old enough to gauge my reaction and I can muster up a proper motherly, "It's okay; shots are no big deal," demeanor. It won't be good if we're both crying when he gets shots.

Monday, September 04, 2006

Yay and boo

After my whining about our house's lack of sales, I must disclose that a contract is in the works and ask everyone to keep fingers, hands, feet, and any other appendages you can manage crossed. If you sent good vibes our way, thanks and keep it going.

So that's the yay. Our lovely friends D&L came to town to gaze upon the baby, which was wonderful and also a yay. They filled up our freezer with food for later and cooked us a good, hearty nutritious lunch today to boot. Since food seems to be beyond our creative capacities a lot of the time recently and will only go downhill once Mistah C returns to work, this is a huge thing for us.

Boo, they left today. Too short a visit, even though I felt like I am not the most entertaining, charming or gracious (hi Liz!) host right now. I feel like I might have two neurons left to rub together and maybe manage not to drool on myself. I'm hoping they had clean towels - I realized today or yesterday that I hadn't put out guest towels in the downstairs bath.

Now we're going to try and sleep before 11PM.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Random thoughts for crazy Friday

I realized I was just using the blog to bitch, so I thought I'd add happy thoughts.

Yesterday most things ended up going our way, house sales not withstanding. And at least we have a house to sell. I don't want to be a woman with a Virgina ham under each arm crying because she's got no bread.
  • Young Master A's grandparents are finally coming to visit, yay!
  • I found out the state was taking care of telling the CNP that a doctor had to sign for 8 weeks' pregnancy disability for a C-section, so I didn't need to. I followed up with the clinic and they said the form was faxed back with a doctor's signature yesterday. So that should be shaking out soon.
  • The HR rep finally realized that I had a C-section, even though I know my darling husband called the first day we were home and asked how having a C-section affected my leave from work. But that gave me another two weeks' of disability pay.
  • The doctor we were recommended by the happy, sane, smart pediatrician is indeed on our health plan, which was a matter of debate when I called the office to get an appointment.
  • I managed to get an appointment with the new doctor in two days (so that's today) to have the really strange and bizarre splinter in my toe taken out. Maybe I won't pass out when that happens; I really can't stand having things embedded in the bottom of my feet. The woman in the office was really sweet, though, so that's a good sign.

Plus, A's been staying awake longer and looking at things more. We're starting to shift him to being awake during the day and asleep at night, but there's still no hope of 8-hours of uninterrupted sleep - oh, until he goes to college.

It's hard to blog about what we do with him because we watch him, hold him and talk to him. He's not spouting bon mots (more like fountains of pee when we're changing him without anything to staunch the flow in reach); he's just started smiling at us every so often. Naomi Wolf wrote about baby time, where you're just in a bubble of uninterrupted time, and it's close to that. Hard to describe.

Last night I found out that he most certainly understood he was about to be fed. I unsnapped my nursing tank to feed him, picked him up and held him, then realized he was wet. He just doesn't feed well when he's wet; he fusses and fumes and can't keep latched on. So I moved him away from my breast to get up and change him. He howled. He shrieked more than I have ever heard him shriek. So the bad news was that he had a pretty inconsolable diaper change; the good news is that he's learning a cause-and-effect of unsnap shirt, see/smell breast, soon no longer hungry. He didn't used to recognize that. That means I'm going to have to start being better about checking his diaper before I feed him.

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Someone buy our damn house.

It's lovely. We adored it. I don't know why nobody wants to buy it, but I desperately wish someone would.

Monday, August 28, 2006

Damn, today has been a long day

  • The clinic claims they mailed my form on the 15th, so I don't know what's up with that situation. I'll be stopping by tomorrow to pick up a copy, then I'll be chatting up our HR department. I'm apparently intimidating; who knew?
  • I adore spending all the time in the world with my husband and our son. I really do.
  • I cannot refuse a cheeseburger at the In-n-Out, even when we just stop for "a drink."
  • Jake the wundercat is jumping into my lap every chance he gets.
  • Our friends are coming this week to visit, yay yay yay and boy howdy do we need to clean.
  • You know you're still crazy with hormones when you tear up over your darling baby boy's insurance card coming in the mail.

Stupid Freaking Morons

You know all the hubbub that went on with my pregnancy disability claim previously blogged? I go to the clinic, then the birth center, then the clinic again.

The clinic never filed my paperwork.

I call the state to confirm that there's no claim for me in and the state says, "Well, a doctor does have to sign the form and no nurse-practioner can." Now I'm trying to get someone at the clinic while to figure out whether or not I they submitted the form (and who signed it) or whether it's just malingering in my file.

The best part is that I was tipped off to this situation by the HR person from work who wants to talk to me instead of writing things down in an email like I asked her to because "there's lots of details." I called her back and asked her to write down all the details in an email. Grumble grumble.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

To sleep or not to sleep

It's lucky Young Master A is so damned cute. This week, we had a really bad sleep night, followed by a really good sleep night (with five hours of sleep, boy howdy), followed by another bad sleep night (because we went to our birth class for Show-and-Tell and Master A slept through the entire class right before bedtime), followed by a relatively good one last night. We pointedly kept Master A awake (or at least, not deeply sleeping) for the evening so he would sleep and that seems to have worked.

Mister C let me sleep in this morning for as long as A was content without eating, for which I am profoundly grateful. Sleeping by myself alone in a bed seems like the most luxurious thing in the universe right now.

The nursing seems to have let up in frequency, so that's a break for me. We managed a trip to Trader Joe's and Ralph's without me cutting things short for pain or exhaustion, which is a first for our group outings. One of these days we'll take a purely recreational trip. The recovery is slow but it is happening.

I'm so behind on thank you notes and correspondance that I'm honestly horrified. They'll all be coming soon, I swear.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Non-baby related rant

Here's the damn email correspondance of this morning. I'm probably not good for emails right now. I have only edited it to remove the names of the ridiculously stupid and to not give the candidate any press. Stupid freaking people.

-----Original Message-----
From: Bimbo Brains
Subject: You have been invited by Politico........

Please join us.............

People I don't know

Invite you to meet and visit with
Political Candidate in CO
Wednesday, August 30th5:30 - 7:30 PM
At the home of CO Politico
Ft. Collins, CO

Suggested Contribution: $75 For more information or to RSVP please contact Bimbo Brains. If unable to attend, please consider contributing online at link.

Bimbo Brains
Deputy Finance Director, Campaign
Contribute Online link
----- My First Reply-----

Please remove me from your list. I know I've never signed up for your emails.

Legally, you must include an unsubscribe link in all emails. Any future solicitations will be reported to the FCC's unsolicited spam site.

-----Bimbo's Response-----

This is not a mail group. A host wanted to invite you and did not have your mailing address. They asked that I send you an electronic invitation. My computer for some reason sent the email three times. There is nothing to unsubscribe from because this is not a mailing list. I will kindly let the host know that you are uninterested in their invitation.

Sorry to put you out and no harshness was intended.
Bimbo

-----My Final Response Before Adding Bimbo To Junk Senders List-----
Bimbo,
Invitations don't generally involve suggested donations to political candidates and are usually sent by hosts, not by finance directors of political campaigns.

Anyone who I would accept an invitation from:
  • already has my mailing address,
  • is aware that I've just had major surgery,
  • knows I am 1500+ miles from Fort Collins, and
  • knows that I am no longer a registered voter in Colorado.

Sorry to put you out. Maybe you should let the hosts know that your "invitations" look like political solicitations sent to a purchased list of email addresses, since that was apparently nowhere near their intentions.

Friday, August 18, 2006

Feeding/Weight Update

Still sleep deprived here, but we weighed Master A today and he's just under 9 pounds, length 22 and change inches. So he's getting plenty of nutrition, which makes me feel so much better.

I understand where people pitch in the breastfeeding and go for bottles. We're not doing that, but I have more sympathies for not wanting to feel like a human feeding bag.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

I have a baby and there are no blog updates

Young Master A is marathon feeding right now, which means he's been feeding at least every two hours. Yesterday, he fed at 12 midnight, 2AM, 4AM, 5AM, 7AM, 8AM, 9AM, 10:30AM, 12 noon, 1:30PM, 3PM, 5PM, 6PM, 7PM, 8PM, 9:30PM, 10:30PM, and 12 midnight again. This has been going on since Sunday.

This wouldn't be quite so bad if the feedings weren't taking 45 minutes on average; none are shorter than 30 minutes. Sometimes I'm only getting a 10 minute break between feedings. If you haven't heard from me or the blog isn't being updated enough for your reading pleasure, this is why.

We're hoping this is a temporary growth spurt, which he should be due for soon. But this is why you haven't heard from me.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Certified Nurse Catfight

Yesterday I had two checkups, one with the clinic associated with the hospital where I had A and one with the birth center.

First up: the clinic. The clinic is filled with flyers about how to apply for WIC benefits and how to appeal for WIC benefits when your application is rejected. This is not my demographic and I felt incredibly out of place. I get shown to an examination room (after an intern takes my vitals, skewing my BP high when I realize she's an intern mid-exam) and am seen by the Certified Nurse Practitioner. She looks at my incision (which looks great), asks me if I've thought about birth control (well, no, since I haven't really thought about sex), and then refuses to sign my pregnancy disability form.

See, my midwife called as we were going out the door to our appointment and told me she can only sign off on six weeks of pregnancy disability. Since I had a C-section, I'm entitled to eight weeks and as such need to get a doctor's signature on the form for that.

Well, the CNP says no. She has very strong opinions and basically says the midwife can sign off on all the things she can sign off on and I should march back to the birth center and make them sign my form for eight weeks' disability. It doesn't take a doctor to certify that I had a C-section.

I say that this puts me in an awkward position and ask if she would call my midwife to discuss it with her.

We go to the birth center and this call has not happened. The midwife has a more thorough exam for postpartum depression, adjusting to breastfeeding (doing spiffily, btw), as well as the birth control discussion. I raise the issue of the form and she goes to call the CNP from the clinic.

Long story short, we truck back to the clinic to get the form signed by the CNP. I don't know what ruckus this will raise with the state, but hopefully HR will now be appeased. My next checkup will be in four weeks.

Boy howdy, does delivering the baby and breastfeeding make you lose weight. I was shocked by how much weight I've lost since leaving the hospital.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

One Week Checkup

Mistah C, young Master A and I all toddled off to the pediatrician's yesterday. Our lovely baby boy has passed his birth weight at Day 11, now up to 7 pounds, 13 and 3/4 ounces, which means that we are breastfeeding well. Whew.

Today are my checkups; hopefully I will not have gained any weight since the birth.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

The Gory Details: Part 2 (8AM Saturday until 4AM Sunday)

Again, if you don't like gory details of birth stories, this is not the post for you.

The difference between the birth center and the hospital was a shock. Instead of the homey birthing suite with queen-sized bed, we're in this stripped down formica and plastic room about the size of my old cubicle. C, J, and T all barely fit in the room. The nurse feels like it's her job to personally judge me for having gone to a birthing center; she argues with the legitimacy of my records from the birth center because "this says your water broke 1AM Friday and that can't possibly be right." No, you've got four intelligent people here who have all been awake for most of the night and can tell you my water didn't break eight hours ago. Bitch.

I've got an IV in an incredibly painful and movement-restricting point on the inside of my left wrist and I'm tethered to the EFM and the Pit pump. They're throwing forms and disclosures at us left and right to sign; C and I refuse to sign anything until we've read them which seems to annoy the nasty nurse. I balk at giving permission for all "labor and delivery procedures" and the nurse is annoyed when we ask what that covers, exactly, and doesn't answer anything but direct questioning (i.e., "Does this cover a C-section, yes or no?"), can't be bothered to explain. We're both incredibly tired and my contractions slow to 7-9 minutes apart, probably due to the hostility of the nurse and the strangeness of the situation. The nurse insists that we weren't really in labor before the Pitocin, which is not what you want to hear on your second day of labor.

The Pitocin kicks in around 9AM and I have really strong, vicious contractions. At first, I'm bound and determined to not have any pain meds. But I am just not able to move; even the slightest movement on my part disconnects the EFM and shows up as "baby in distress" at the nurses' station. If I keep disconnecting it, I am told by nasty nurse, they will have to assume the baby's in distress. (Note: for the entire labor, the baby's heartrate never dropped below 135 and was in the 140s most of the time. That is peachy perfect.) The nurse keeps scolding me to keep my eyes open and focus on one thing and breathe. I have been relaxing lovely well for the last 24 hours and don't feel like being scolded.

I get an epidural about 12:30, but I first talk to the nice doctor and tell him I want an epidural for the purpose of still delivering vaginally by getting some sleep and rest before I have to push, that I want the lowest dose possible to minimize effects on the baby, and that I want to be able to turn it off before pushing so I can feel my contractions. He was kind and gracious and at that point, I was re-energized by being treated like a human being instead of an irrational, irresponsible, crazy birth-in-the-bushes wacko. He even tolerates the questions of all four of us and calls questions the sign of intelligence. I take a nap and C gets something to eat, for which I am profoundly grateful for J and T being there since he wouldn't have left me without T staying behind. There's meuconium in the amniotic waters now, so we're going to have to have a pediatric team there when he's born. I am elated because that means the kid has an anus and it works.

I'm fully dialated at a little before 6. We turn off the epidural. I push until a little after 9PM. (I did turn the epidural back on at 8PM - pain was still most vicious in my back). T stepped out. J and C helped me push and the nasty nurse was relegated to someone else's labor, thank God. I got a wonderful L&D nurse (two with a shift change, actually) who was encouraging and sweet. It really makes the world of difference to have people around you who say, "Yes, you can do this." At the end of three hours of pushing with contractions about 2 to 3 minutes apart, the kid has not moved significantly, although we are getting glimpses of the head, which thrill J and C.

At 9PM, the doctor says the kid is most probably stuck; we can opt for a trial vacuum extraction which may not work (and may require an episiotomy) or the C-section. C and I discuss it and opt for the C-section. I'm exhausted and the prospect of an episotomy and a C-section is more than I can think of bearing at this point.

C-sections get the kid out fast; it was like there was a C-section pit crew. Epidural gets bumped up, catheter goes in, some surgical prep, and boom, down the hall we go to the OR. It was the fastest procedure we had done the whole time. Happily, the nice nurse asked what kinds of things we wanted to happen at the birth and all of them were adhered to: C to hold baby ASAP, baby not to leave at least one of our sights, breastfeeding as soon as possible with no bottles or pacifiers; rooming in and C to stay in hospital with me as much as possible.

Our beautiful boy was born at 10:07PM; the nice L&D nurse actually had to push him back up to extract him. We were worried the epidurals would have made him groggy, but he was beautifully bright-eyed and alert. Apgar scores were 9 and 9; I'm hoping to find out what the point off was for this week at our checkup. C told me the gender since we didn't know ahead of time - I was glad since I had forgotten to tell the doctor not to announce it, that I wanted C to tell me. The pediatric team worked fast - no problems at all - and C was holding our son within five minutes. I shook violently and was freezing throughout. A gripped my finger with his little hand and I fell asleep on the OR table not long after that. It took about 45 minutes to put me back together again.

I got wheeled into the recovery room around 11PM. A was still quietly alert and breastfed like a champ. His head was unevenly lopsided on top, so it looked to me like he really had been stuck. Then he had to go to the nursery for the routine drill and a bath; C went with him. I can't say enough about our friends at this point; J stayed with me and T went back and forth between the two groups spreading information. I was released to the Family Birth Unit at midnight and dozed there off and on with J and T until C came back with the baby.

A spent four hours under the warmers in the nursery so his body temperature could register 98.6 so they could bathe him; C sat by his side the whole time. We were utterly exhausted at the end of it. I feel bad for J and T since they just stuck with us for two days even when it would have been easy to say, "Yep, kid's out; time for us to go." They didn't leave us until C, A, and I were all back together in one room again.

We were in the hospital until Wednesday afternoon. The nurses were all super and I can't say enough about the kindnesses they showed us. We were put in a double room so we could have a bed for C and they didn't put anyone in the room with us the whole time, even when they had a record 22 women there. I'm told they try to do that for C-section patients, but I think it was also due to the dedication C showed the whole time - it's hard not to notice a big guy sitting by a warmer with a tiny baby in the nursery for four hours straight from midnight until 4AM.

So now we're home. Life revolves around little A-man here; he eats, poops, sleeps, and then the whole cycle starts again. The entire labor seems pretty surreal now, but I keep thinking, oh yes, that did happen. I've got the best evidence in the world to say so.

The Gory Details: Part 1 (1AM Friday-8AM Saturday)

If you don't want to know the birth story, then don't read this post. If you want the gory details, this post and the next one are for you. This is Part 1, the birth center experience.

Friday the 28th at 1AM, my water broke. We were joking about how punctual the kid was, right on the due date. After talking to the midwife on duty, I ended up going back to sleep until 7 or so and waiting until the contractions got stronger. We went to the birth center at about 11AM. They check me (1 cm dilation) and say contractions aren't beastly strong, so I might as well go home until they're strong enough that I can't talk through them. The midwife strips my membranes, breaks a forebag of waters still present, then tells me to take 2 oz. of castor oil when I get home and another 2 oz. two hours later. (You've got to be in active labor within 24 hours of your water breaking or they transfer you to a hospital, so speeding up things by any means necessary seemed like a good idea.) I take the castor oil like a drunken sailor - straight up and fast. All this brought on pretty strong contractions, all in my back. Since we knew the kid was OP, it wasn't that much of a surprise but it hurt.

The one thing I regret about this whole thing: taking the second dose of castor oil at 3PM. Seriously. I only got half of it down maybe before I knew I was going to throw up. Mistah C, our resident vomit expert, called it "firehose vomit," and that's what it was. If I hadn't taken that dose, I might have been better nourished for what happened in the next two days.

We labored at home until 6PM, then went back to the birth center with my friend J. (Her husband T came later but I don't know when because I wasn't watching the clock - I was in labor, people.) Progress is really slow but the contractions are steady at 3-5 minutes apart. Because progress is so slow, we think the kid is definitely OP and might be having issues, so we are trying all sorts of positions and postures to move the kid - in bed, out of bed, in the tub, birthing ball, lunges, everything.

I'm doing well handling the contractions, although I think there's a lot of muttering of "oh, it hurts, it hurts," going on during the contractions. I am breathing through the contractions and look so relaxed I keep having to tell people when I'm having a contraction.

My midwife can't deliver babies at the birth center due to her agreement with her new employer, so around 1 or 2AM (I really don't know since I was pointedly not watching the clock), another midwife I've never met named Brooke shows up. Brooke is super cool and has a whole other bag of tricks to try, including suspending me from a rebozo and shaking me like a bowl of jelly. The kid makes no downward progress between 4AM and 8AM and I am only at 6cm. The baby's basically slightly turned off-axis and as such may not be able to come out normally. We had known that the kid was OP (sunny side up), but we didn't realize he was also turned.

At 8AM Saturday, we've come to the end of what they can do at the birth center. Because the baby's turned, he's not making contact with my cervix and as such isn't invoking more productive contractions. They're recommending that we go to a hospital for Pitocin to see if that will induce harder contractions which will turn the kid to allow me to deliver vaginally. C and I are crushed because a hospital birth is so not what we wanted. We've been laboring for about 21 hours at this point. The midwives call the two potential hospitals to determine which they'll transfer me to depending on who the attending doctor is that day. This is to give me a better chance at still delivering vaginally. I ask what my odds are of avoiding a C-section and they say 50/50. We drive ourselves over there.

The birth center was wonderful and I can't say enough nice things about it. The kid was just not lined up right and they exhausted all the methods at their disposal. I believe they say they have a 9-10% transfer rate. More than that, C and I participated in the discussion about transferring. If either of us had thought that a longer labor at the birth center would have changed something, I'm pretty sure the midwives might have let us go at it longer. But it just wasn't happening.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

We're Home

It feels like we just got here, but we're going out again for the baby's first office visit. I've taken drugs to brace myself. Walking is difficult.

I am so tired but thrilled with the babe. I haven't been coherent long enough to add up all the time in labor and remember it, but we started labor Friday morning and ended up delivering him (it's a boy!) via C-section Saturday night. It's something like 36-44 hours of labor. The birth story will be coming in gory detail as soon as I get the attention span required to recall it all.

There's so much to do and the kid's cluster feeding in two to three hours spans of time, which means I'm pretty well occupied. Breast feeding is going well so far. The cats are not quite sure what the hell this thing is we brought home.

Mistah C is fabulous. Fabulous husband, fabulous daddy material, just fabulous all around. I have a hard time imagining a better man. Several nurses in the birth unit commented on what an amazingly supportive husband and father he is. They thought we should have another one soon since he's so super. At this point, I just want to handle this one.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Don't call us, but labor has started. But don't call us.

Don't call us. But my water broke. (This is only getting blogged because my PC was still on while the Search For Waterproofing the Bed Materials is going on.) Don't call us if you're one of the crazies who is still awake. Don't call us if you want to know if we went to the birth center. I've talked to the midwife on duty and since I'm not having contractions I can't speak through yet, I'm not going to the birth center yet. I've got an appointment at 11AM if I don't show up earlier than that.

So (don't call us) we're going to try and go back to sleep. Don't call us.

If you're pregnant or considering being pregnant, a waterproof mattress pad might not be a bad investment once you reach the "water might break" stage.

And I think it's pretty damn funny that my water broke some time after midnight on the kid's due date. This kid may be one of the few who shows up on its due date, but we'll see.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

At last! Something to report.

We had an official sign of prelabor this morning, which is potentially TMI so here for the curious: bloody show.

But it was serious enough that I called the birth center to make sure it was just prelabor and nothing more. The midwife said this was a great sign of progress; enjoy my normal day, eat, rest and stay hydrated. (It's still hot here.) I can swim all I want.

"Boy, that baby might come right on time," she said. Might is the operative word in that sentence. Active labor could still be three days or weeks away. But it is officially a-coming.

I'm currently uploading the last of my major files to work. I have two emails to send and then I will officially be done with work.

Other blatherings: Tim Gunn is still a cupcake although I don't know what the judges were thinking on the latest Project Runway. And if you're not watching Morgan Spurlock's 30 Days series, well, what's wrong with you? It's so rare to see reality TV that treats its participants with respect.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Updates for Those Who Can't Stand a Lack of Updates

No baby yet. No labor yet. No unmistakable signs of labor yet.

I'm sitting around the house wrapping up the last stupid tasks of my job, surfing the web, watching TV, and reading. Mistah C is having foot problems so I'm hoping he gets over that before labor.

I'm not impatient but it seems like other people are.

Monday, July 24, 2006

Prenatal Visit, Week 39

The rain stopped. Sigh.

This morning, we had our Week 39 visit. The kid's head is way down (so maybe it's dropped although I certainly couldn't say that it had). Everything's good: blood pressure, glucose, protein, weight, fetal heartrate (120 to 130, which seems slow to me), and fundal height (38 cm).

We talked about having a pelvic exam next week, which we may or may not do, depending if I want to. I'm still undecided. We talked a bit about labor. I am still in, "Well, let's labor at home for as long as possible then go in and do whatever works," mode. They'd like me to do kick counts, which means that I have to make sure the kid moves 10 times within one hour each day. That will be right after the ice cream hour. The kid's so active that I'm not concerned.

My pinkies being numb is just inflammation caused by the excessive amount of fluids I have right now and is normal. It should go away once the pregnancy's over.

Past 40 weeks, we start having to have non-stress tests and whatnot, so next week we'll have to start talking about natural methods of inducing, which I really don't want to do. I'm still pretty sure the kid will pick the right day.

Yay rain!

It's raining here right now, beautifully wet clean-smelling rain. I'm sure it won't last long, but it's wonderful right now.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Record High Weather and It's All My Fault

Yah, you betcha. It was 99°F yesterday here (a record over the past high of 87°F) in our little corner of the world and it was DAMN hot. I'm sure this is because I am pregnant and set to simmer anyway. It's been hot here like it is in the East. You shower, towel off, and you're sweaty again. It's that hot.

We went out yesterday to the best hardware store in gay ol' Hillcrest and found an ionizing tower fan for downstairs (we had one for our bedroom at night, but it was just getting ridiculous). Mistah C and I are now in love with the fan. Poems are being composed by the hour to the joys of sitting on our asses in front of the TV with the fan going. Example:

The couch is dampened--
Let us turn the fan to three
With this here clicker.

I didn't say they were good poems.

Anyway, yesterday was T's birthday (oh, we can blame him for the heat!) and we saw the One Man Star Wars Trilogy, which is fabulous if you're a little Star Wars fangirl like me. Happily, I think Terry is a big Star Wars geek too. Watching someone do all three movies in under an hour is damn funny. If you don't know the films backwards and forwards, I'm not sure you'd enjoy it, but if you do, then let me tell you to make sure you see it when he's in town. There's a good balance of plot and editorializing, although he was funny enough I would have liked more editorializing.

I got to play the "I'm more pregnant than you are" game in the bathroom after the show with a woman who's due in two weeks. I won.

But seeing the show was the last scheduled thing I've got pre-kid that I needed to not be in labor for. My last day of work before maternity leave is Friday and I still have a couple things to wrap up, but they're not huge disgusting things.

Last night, I don't know if I woke up with a contraction or if I was awake and noticed I had a contraction, but I had a contraction. Honestly, I thought to the kid, "No, not today. Today is not your birthday; it's too damn hot and you can wait a couple more days to be fully-cooked. I don't want to do this right now, so just chill out." I don't know why that was my gut response, but there it was. I just wanted to go back to sleep. I didn't tell Mistah C since I thought we'd never get back to sleep waiting around for another contraction. I didn't have another one and I'm not in labor yet, so there you go.

The only disturbing thing is that my pinkies keep going numb. When I woke up last night, I noticed it on my right hand and thought I had slept funny and cut off circulation, but both pinkies are still tingly today. It's just my pinkies and they don't appear to be blue or any other color than the rest of my hands, so I'm thinking it's nerves and wondering if I'm finally having some inflammation issues. We've got a midwife appointment tomorrow, so I'll ask about it then.

I have to go back to sitting on my ass in front of the TV. Excuse me.

Friday, July 21, 2006

Swimming is great!

After work yesterday, I went swimming. The pool is not very deep at all (5 feet in the deep end) but it is fabulous. I had it all to myself. Getting in was a little strange because my center of gravity is off. Doing the breaststroke while pregnant is difficult. Floating on my back was great, but I made sure to spend an equal amount of time with my belly down so the kid had the opportunity to float free of my pelvis. (Having the kid float free of the pelvis is supposed to be good for labor and positioning, yadda yadda, plus the kid's big enough now not to somersault into breech, at least we hope so.)

Getting out was the shocker. Stepping out of the water, the kid suddenly felt quite heavy, boom.

I think I'll be going swimming again. Today: I get my hair cut. We're getting to the last of my scheduled appointments pre-kid.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Is it Friday yet?

No, just Thursday. Sigh. Today's goal is to go swimming.

Mistah C and I had a lovely dinner with our friends from CO last night (well, the table we got was awful and the service was not stellar, but the company was grand). I wish we'd gotten more time to see them. Happily, one of them is going to be living not too far from the swanky dessert place so now I'm sure we'll be visiting him often.

I have moved on in my reading from babydom to childrearing, although I do have non-baby books to read as well. Pregnancy things are popping up where I least expect them. The latest O magazine has an article about how the number one cause of death in pregnant women is homicide. I thought Mistah C was going to cut it out of my copy so I couldn't read it (which was going to send me into hormone-laden feminista "You are not possibly trying to tell me what I can and cannot read," frenzy). I'd like to see a Freakonomics-style breakdown of those statistics, though. The article was heavily based on the fact that 1/3 of all murdered preggos are done in by someone they know, but what's going on with the other 2/3s?

Work news: My boss finally set up a meeting with me to meet "the latest team member" tomorrow but scheduled it during the only appointment I have this week. Let me check my Outlook calendar to make sure my appointment is on there. Yes, it is. Let me find my clue-by-four. Yup, I'll be polishing up the old resume soon.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

I almost forgot!

The most important thing that comes up in my brain nowadays: is there anyone impervious to the charms of Tim Gunn?

I am taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in seeing Tim in ads for Project Runway 3. I have TiVo; I don't watch ads. I watch Tim, though. He's a cupcake.

Scatterbrained

I am literally all over the place mentally these days. Here's flotsam and jetsam of my brain:
  • I'm sick of work. The fact that my new boss hasn't bothered to introduce me to the newest member of the team (who started Monday) pretty much tells me I had better get my resume into tip-top shape and be ready to jump ship.
  • Riders on the Tour for the last five years have been motivated by either helping Lance Armstrong or beating Lance Armstrong (or being Lance Armstrong). Without Lance, many of the teams look lost for strategy. But I haven't caught up after the second mountain day so maybe someone took charge.
  • Our cats are loopy but at least they don't look like Hitler.
  • Being irritated by work did motivate me to file my pregnancy disability claim. Now I just wait for the paperwork.
  • Photos of naked babies in Santa hats are tacky.
  • People who recommend, "There was a star danced, and under that was I born," as a quote to put on their baby announcements haven't read Much Ado About Nothing. The first part of the quote is "My mother cried." Well, maybe they're advertising the vast amount of pain their mothers were in during labor.
  • My books don't fit in our bookcases. The next house is going to have floor-to-ceiling bookcases everywhere.
  • Shopping for pregnancy swimsuits is worse than shopping for regular swimsuits. The sun is beginning to shine so we'll see if I can get a quick dip today.
  • I am eagerly awaiting a box of books from Amazon that will give me something non-baby to read.
  • I need to clean my office.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Backache and Pizza

The problem with being 38+ weeks pregnant is that anything happens and I wonder if I'm in labor. Backache - am I in labor? Twinge in neck - let me check the books; this might be an obscure sign of labor.

Last night I had bad cramps in my lower back. I was determined to ignore the cramps because I was reading but eventually gave in to some gentle stretching exercises, which helped. If I feel any lower back pain, my first question is, "Is this back labor?" There's been a rash of back labor in our class. The books say lower backache may be a sign of prelabor that can happen anywhere from days to weeks before labor but it could also just be a backache.

But the books also say the whole last month of pregnancy is a latent labor period where things are happening even if I can't perceive them happening. I'm resigning myself to the fact that when I go into (active) labor, I'll just have to trust that I know I'm in (active) labor.

More importantly, we found proper NY style pizza last night, the kind that's flat enough to get folded in half. Plus, we're going to have a little CO get-together tomorrow night, so that will be super.

Monday, July 17, 2006

Prenatal Visit, Week 38 or so

This week's visit was a little anticlimactic. The kid hasn't arrived; I haven't had any more significant Braxton-Hicks contractions. Everything (weight, glucose, protein, fetal heartrate, fundal height) is on track.

My midwife told me to get in a pool if I could, which is funny because the pool keys for our apartment complex arrived this weekend. The problem: a swim suit. The cheap Scotch in me (ancestry, not booze*) makes me wonder about the wisdom of buying a maternity bathing suit two weeks before my due date; the cynic in me says that just the act of buying a (non-returnable) bathing suit will be enough to send me into labor. Maybe I'll hit Target and see if they've got anything on clearance.

It's been hot here and being pregnant doesn't help that. The kid's taking up a lot of room, so I'm trying to remember to eat smaller meals more often. Having said that, I'm still not sick of being pregnant. I'm not horribly uncomfortable; the kid is doing great. I don't know if I'll ever be pregnant again. I have faith the kid will pick its proper birthday when it's ready. There's no point in being impatient. Besides, there are some of you who can be impatient for me!

At this point, it could be any time. It still doesn't feel that way to me. I'm not cleaning walls yet, either, for those of you watching for nesting behaviors. We missed the full moon, a supposed labor-inducer, and we thankfully get to keep our anniversary for our greedy selves (even though I'm sure we would have loved two celebrations on the same day, blah blah whatever).

We met with friends of ours from birth class over the weekend and met their baby, who is a cutie. (Other babies do get cuter as the odds of having your own improve - consider it 400% more estrogen's little gift.) They pointed us towards a breastfeeding supply store associated with one of the local hospitals. Mistah C and I went there Sunday and it was super. They even have a scale in the store, which is the mark of people who understand breastfed baby needs. We'll probably be going back there 7-10 days after birth for any supplies that seem relevant post-baby.

We have heard rumor there is a contingent of CO people in town this week, so that will be this week's excitement (at least, the known excitement). Past that, it's just work work work. I'm just "documenting my job" now, so at least nobody's hounding me.

* Besides, any of you who know Mistah C know that any Scotch in this house is ridiculously expensive single malt Scotch with tongue-twisting names. But that's irrelevant since I haven't touched a single soft cheese, piece of sushi, or drop of booze since the two pink lines showed up.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Anniversary Hiatus

Mistah C and I celebrated our wedding anniversary yesterday by taking the day off to bum around with each other. The kid enjoyed Pirates (as did Mistah C and me). I would also like to praise Roy's Hawaiian Fusion Cuisine for having such lovely food and exceptional service.

Since our anniversary was post-full-term, both of us had been loathe to make any reservations or expensive plans (like theater tickets). Last night we decided to hit Roy's after checking the menu against the FDA's guidelines for mercury/fish consumption for pregnant women. They had a macademia-nut crusted mahi mahi that would probably be safe as long as I didn't eat more than six ounces of it.

We get to Roy's and find out that the macademia-nut crusted fish of the day is a mercury-laden no-no for preggos. We were hoping to eat the fixe prix menu for a smattering of tastes; the other entree choices are shortribs (not what I wanted to eat in my one nice white shirt) and salmon (which I got too much of working catering during college and as such haven't been able to enjoy since). I explain to the waiter that I'm pregnant and concerned about the mercury levels; could I get a substitution of mahi for the white fish of the day? He says probably not, then goes off and checks with the chef. He can for a substitution fee, which is more than reasonable.

The kid liked the mahi; the kid got hiccups halfway through the entree course that did not stop until I was done with dessert (a sinfully delicious chocolate lava cake with vanilla ice cream and raspberry sauce). I ate way too much and ended up feeling the sickest I've felt during the entire pregnancy. It was a blessed relief when I woke up at 2AM and realized I no longer felt like a force-fed goose ready for pate slaughter.

But the food was so delicious. The service was impeccable. I think I probably would have eaten less if I hadn't felt like the kitchen had bent over backwards to accomodate me. I probably don't need to eat much today. But the whole experience was excellent and I highly recommend Roy's for dinner if you've got one nearby.

Can I let the baby smoke every day or just on holidays?

It's a bad moment during baby care class when one of your classmates reports being dropped on her head as a child and you have to stifle a laugh because you had already guessed something had happened to her.

We went to baby care class Tuesday night. If you have an IQ above a carrot's and are considering a baby care class by these people, get a book and read it. Then take the extra $ leftover from the $20 you would have spent on a baby care class and go to In-n-Out. Have a shake and some good fries.

The directions to the class location were so poor that we walked all the way around the hospital. We found four other couples who were also lost. Finally, a nice hospital educator adopted our pack of preggos (I reminded her of an RN friend of hers) and walked us back to where Mistah C and I parked and said, "That building there." It's called the Administration Building on the directions, but everyone onsite calls it the Orcutt Building. This seems like a minor thing, but when you're asking everyone and their dog for directions to the Administration Building, it's critical. All of us are 15 minutes late.

The instructor greets us at the door with a very friendly, "But I already have everyone on my list, and I don't have enough babies or handouts for you all. And some of you are going to have to stand." None of the women I'm with are in the early stages of pregnancy, so the standing news goes over well. Mistah C and I have been signed up for this class since March. My keen sense of customer service tells me I'm in the hands of a master.

We find places around the corners of the room; thankfully, all the preggos get a seat, although one of the dads is still standing when the dust settles. The instructor (wearing a big oaktag circle that says Sharon) is extremely distressed at having to hand over her example baby doll to a preggo woman. Sharon is about 200 years old and has been teaching this class since before there were babies.

The class consists of watching video tapes from the 80s. They are warped to the point of being almost incomprehensible; the sound is ear-splitting. The one in progress when we enter is about bathing the baby. Some of the advice given in the film is wrong, like swabbing around the base of the cord with rubbing alcohol every time you diaper the baby. All the instructor is there for is to tell us when the film's advice had become outdated.

There's a break not long after we arrive. I get the last packet of info. It's all put together by sponsors - Johnson & Johnson, Kaiser Permanente, etc. It's not anything I haven't seen before. We also get a copy of "San Diego Parents" magazine, which is filled with ads for bounce houses and princess parties for our darling child's birthday. During the break, we're supposedly going to "rearrange the room so everyone can fit." Not so much. Mistah C and I spend the rest of the class along the wall under the TV sets. There are 16 couples in the room; each paying $20 a couple. You'd think they could have had enough chairs.

All controversial issues were glossed over or not mentioned. When we got to the "how should baby sleep?" moment, there wasn't even a mention of co-sleeping (or the controversy about co-sleeping). There are no discussions on how used cribs and mattresses are linked to SIDS. When discussing meconium, Sharon says, "They're messy; you might want to let the nurses in the hospital take care of those."

I knew Mistah C was getting a lot out of the class when he put the baby doll's diaper on its head. Then we discussed abandoning the baby for In-n-Out. The Q&A portion of class was insane. People were asking questions like, "If my baby is circumsized, should I use a Brillo pad to clean it?" "If the house is on fire, should I take the baby out first or should I take the baby's crib out first so the baby has a safe place to sleep while the house burns down?"

We were guessing we were among the oldest people in the room and that most of the parents were in their early twenties. Mistah C and I found out 1) where all the stupid people were and 2) that we already knew as much as we were going to know about how to take care of a baby before having one. Edumacated people of America, skip the baby care class for In-n-Out. You will thank me for it.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Officially Full-Term 37 Week Prenatal Visit

We are now safely out of the premature delivery stage. This is good because it means that I can deliver safely at the birth center instead of getting schlepped off to the hospital. It also means that when we leave the birth center, people say, "See you next week, if not sooner!"

All stats are fine: weight, BP, glucose, protein, fetal heartrate. Fundal height was 38 cm, so we had a bit of a jump there - but a centimeter isn't that big. Baby's head is still down. Sometime in the next two weeks, they'll check for effacement and dialation, but the birth center doesn't like giving pelvic exams to pregnant women since that can sometimes inadvertantly start labor.

Our bag is packed and I believe we have all the supplies on hand they asked us to have. We have been given the instructions on when to go to the birth center, which are extremely sensible: Don't start timing contractions until it's too hard for me to speak through them. Don't call the birth center until hard contractions have been coming every 3-5 minutes for one hour. Stay at home and labor there where it's "safe" and comforting until active labor is firmly established. We're both oddly calm, in the "it'll happen when it happens" mode.

We have a baby care class tonight (nothing like procrastinating, right?) where we'll learn how to change a diaper and bathe the baby, I guess.

Friday, July 07, 2006

Finally! A contraction.

It's just a Braxton-Hicks contraction. It felt like a tightening across my abdomen and maybe lasted for a minute or so. At first I thought I'd eaten too much for lunch and was going to be sick from the effort of walking up the stairs in the heat, but it sustained at such a steady pressure that I thought, "Ah! Contraction!" After a minute or so, it stopped and the kid wriggled like mad.

It's been two hours now and I haven't had another. So it's been a little anticlimatic. I didn't think it was labor. It was just weird.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Everyone Else in Birth Class Gave Birth

One couple moved up a week from their due date and had their baby on the 4th; the other couple with the original due date of the 4th gave birth yesterday. Both were girls. That's three girls and one boy for our class so far.

Now it's just Mistah C and me waiting. I will roll 37 weeks tomorrow or Saturday, depending on whose math you're using. Then I will enjoy the "we made it to full term" sigh of relief and celebratory Ben and Jerry's.

I'm not at the fabled "I'm so sick of being pregnant" point, although it will be lovely to roll over in bed in the middle of the night without feeling like I need a crane to assist me. I keep telling this kid to stay in until it's done, which in my mind is at least 40 weeks but I won't quibble on timelines between 37 and 40 (or 42) weeks. It's just been a surprisingly easy pregnancy.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say I've been missing it, Bob."

Yes, once again, cubicle-free me has her life summed up in an Office Space quote.

I'm back at work. I haven't worked in more than a week between the blood drive and the jury duty. But I wouldn't exactly say I've missed work at all. I would be hard pressed to think of something I missed.

My email didn't work this morning, so that burned through a good hour and a half. Then I called my boss to say, hey, back at work but the email no workee. So there was a quarter of my day. The rest was just doing the silly stupid stuff I get paid to do.

It's not exactly an earth-rattling thought, but the realization that I could be off from work for an indeterminate amount of time and absolutely not care one whit about what happened while I was gone is mildly astonishing. Today I don't even care about the quality of work going out unless it's solely mine, which is odd for perfectionist little me.

Maybe it's because I'm pregnant and creating another person dwarfs the importance of anything else. Maybe being on jury duty changed my idea of the idiot to non-idiot ratio in the universe. Maybe I'm tired of dealing with a completely new management structure.

But today's the day I shut down exactly after my eight hours were done, launches and projects be damned.