Friday, February 29, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Things to try to soothe a perplexingly fussy baby when it’s 29 degrees outside.
According to the PARENTING e-mail I get each week, this week “your baby's more alert between feedings and absorbing more stimuli now, so perhaps he's becoming more vocal. (Yep!) If this is the case, your sleep and your patience may be taxed. (Yep!) This week's newsletter talks about quieting and comforting your baby and offers strategies for surviving colic. Whether or not you have "a crier," your baby's wailing starts to intensify around this time. (Yep!) Aside from feeding him, changing him, and keeping him warm and comfortable, what can you do?” The e-mail then provided a bunch of links that should theoretically answer this question, but strangely, none of the links works. So, here’s my own list.
Things to try to soothe a perplexingly fussy baby when it’s 29 degrees outside.
1. Is it the diaper?
2. Is he hungry? (No, he can’t possibly be.) Are you sure?
3. Everything it says in “The happiest baby on the block.” That is: swaddle, swing, shush, side-hold, and provide a finger or pacifier for sucking.
4. Take 2 Excedrin Migraine. This will (a) stave off the possible migraine and (b) provide needed caffeine energy for all other efforts and projects.
5. Cry a little if necessary, but don’t get worked up. Crying won’t kill him or scar him permanently, but getting worked up will definitely make it harder for him to stop crying.
6. Empathize with him out loud. Today, my monologue has gone something like this: “Yes, I know; it’s such a big world out here. It’s so, so big. So much has changed so quickly. It’s okay; cry it all out. I understand. I’d be crying too if I’d just gotten pried out of my warm, safe, comfortable home. But it’s going to be okay because your dad and I love you so, so much and whatever you need we will make sure you have. I know it’s hard right now because we’re just learning how to understand your needs, but you’re doing a great job of teaching us what you need. So you go right ahead and cry; and as you do I’m going to keep trying to figure out what you need. So don’t give up on me. You go right on crying ‘til I get it right.” I know that might sound strange, but by encouraging him to go right on and cry, I really save myself from that awful feeling of incompetence; that frustrated “Just PLEASE stop crying” feeling that doesn’t get us any closer to a solution.
7. Turn on whatever cd or other music you listened to a lot during pregnancy. It really doesn’t seem to matter what that it is. For me and Daniel, our number one pick is Audra McDonald’s “Way Back to Paradise,” with a tie for second place between Lyle Lovett’s “Joshua Judges Ruth” and Gordon Lightfoot’s “A Painter Passing Through”
8. There will be more revelations to fill in #8… and 9, 10, etc… So, till then… Don’t stop trying. Eventually the crying will stop, and as Hillary says, the clouds will part, celestial choirs will sing, and we’ll all know and do what’s right. The baby will love again! Or, he'll fall asleep.
Things to try to soothe a perplexingly fussy baby when it’s 29 degrees outside.
1. Is it the diaper?
2. Is he hungry? (No, he can’t possibly be.) Are you sure?
3. Everything it says in “The happiest baby on the block.” That is: swaddle, swing, shush, side-hold, and provide a finger or pacifier for sucking.
4. Take 2 Excedrin Migraine. This will (a) stave off the possible migraine and (b) provide needed caffeine energy for all other efforts and projects.
5. Cry a little if necessary, but don’t get worked up. Crying won’t kill him or scar him permanently, but getting worked up will definitely make it harder for him to stop crying.
6. Empathize with him out loud. Today, my monologue has gone something like this: “Yes, I know; it’s such a big world out here. It’s so, so big. So much has changed so quickly. It’s okay; cry it all out. I understand. I’d be crying too if I’d just gotten pried out of my warm, safe, comfortable home. But it’s going to be okay because your dad and I love you so, so much and whatever you need we will make sure you have. I know it’s hard right now because we’re just learning how to understand your needs, but you’re doing a great job of teaching us what you need. So you go right ahead and cry; and as you do I’m going to keep trying to figure out what you need. So don’t give up on me. You go right on crying ‘til I get it right.” I know that might sound strange, but by encouraging him to go right on and cry, I really save myself from that awful feeling of incompetence; that frustrated “Just PLEASE stop crying” feeling that doesn’t get us any closer to a solution.
7. Turn on whatever cd or other music you listened to a lot during pregnancy. It really doesn’t seem to matter what that it is. For me and Daniel, our number one pick is Audra McDonald’s “Way Back to Paradise,” with a tie for second place between Lyle Lovett’s “Joshua Judges Ruth” and Gordon Lightfoot’s “A Painter Passing Through”
8. There will be more revelations to fill in #8… and 9, 10, etc… So, till then… Don’t stop trying. Eventually the crying will stop, and as Hillary says, the clouds will part, celestial choirs will sing, and we’ll all know and do what’s right. The baby will love again! Or, he'll fall asleep.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
I love bathtime!
Since the doctor's appointment the other day, I'm cleared to take regular baths (as opposed to showers, which I abhor), and my new favorite thing to do with you is bathtime. We have a baby bathtub. It's sort of fancy, with its own little drain and it folds up for convenient storage (which is a nice idea but doesn't work, so it is hanging up on the wall), and it's baby sized; but even a baby sized bathtub is a pretty big bathtub for a newborn, and we've only used it once. When we did use it, you absolutely HATED it, and I don't blame you! I hated it too. Your dad and I were all hunched over, trying to keep you upright with only our hands. It was kind of scary for us! But that's all over now. Last night, I took you into the bathtub with me and had you up to your chest in warm water. You loved it and made all kinds of cherubic faces and sounds; and me, well, I fell even deeper in love. I even did the unthinkable. I had your dad take your picture. Yes, yes, I'm generally opposed to full-frontal naked baby photos. I know that they haunt children as grown ups. I'm particularly reminded by the fully naked photo of your dad that your grandfather (GB) brought to our rehearsal dinner the night before our wedding (God only knows why) and showing around to every person there. I tell myself I'm not that bad because we gave you a little fig leaf protection with a washcloth. Why did I insist on that photo? I've clearly been bitten by whatever delusion it is that prompts other parents to photograph their naked children. Well, whatever. It was really, really sweet. I don't care what I thought before I was a mom.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Feeling a little blue today
I've been a little down the last couple of days, and I'm not really sure why. I strongly suspect it's hormonal; but also, Rhett, Daniel and I went to my OB who said in addition to the fact that I look great, that she thinks I won't need a c-section next time because I won't have as big a baby because I won't gain as much weight. My doctor clearly didn't mean for me to feel down on myself when she made this statement; Rhett didn't hear the statement in the way that I did (and he's usually pretty sensitive to when other people have said things that might hurt my feelings). The doctor simply said it's just hard to know what to eat during a first pregnancy, and assumes that I won't gain as much next time. I don't know, but she could be right!
But regardless of whether it's true or not, this hits on my biggest button - that maybe I haven't been a good steward of Daniel's life in some important ways. I worked pretty hard not to let myself feel bad about the c-section and specifically, not to blame myself. Calling upon my rational mind, I realize that this is just stupid. I'm the one who didn't want the c-section. He doesn't know that he was deprived of a vaginal delivery, and even if he does, I'm hearing more and more arguments (from credible medical people) that even though there are a lot of unnecessary c-sections performed, there are also a lot of babies born vaginally who probably shouldn't be. As one example, we took Daniel to have an MRI the other day (he's fine - he was just participating in an advanced brain imaging study), and the woman running the study said that they had been very surprised to find that the MRI's of 26% of the vaginally born babies in the study so far have had a subdural hemotoma on the back of the brain. Yikes! Actually, she said it's no big deal; it heals. But this points to that I'm being irrational to grieve that vaginal delivery. It has been an effort for me not to feel like I somehow failed at being a good mom because I had to have a c-section. I wonder if my body (and perhaps the lives of many women who've had c-sections?) is grieving the loss of the pregnancy because I didn't have the biological ritual of closure that my body naturally expected.
I recognize that this is likely just hormones - some incarnation of "baby blues." I thought that "baby blues" were only a factor in the immediate days after childbirth. That's what it said on the website I looked at. (Of course, if it's on the internet it must be true!) I don't meet the criteria for PPD, clearly, but these last two days I have felt a bit unlike my usual smiley self. Maybe it's partly the flu shot I got this afternoon (Rhett and I both felt kind of cruddy after it); maybe it's more of the breastfeeding thing; the weight gain and c-section are clearly part of it; and of course it has a lot to do with the absence of structure that defines our lives these days (I'm well enough recovered now that I actually wake up whenever Daniel does). Whatever these are, I really hope they go away soon.
But regardless of whether it's true or not, this hits on my biggest button - that maybe I haven't been a good steward of Daniel's life in some important ways. I worked pretty hard not to let myself feel bad about the c-section and specifically, not to blame myself. Calling upon my rational mind, I realize that this is just stupid. I'm the one who didn't want the c-section. He doesn't know that he was deprived of a vaginal delivery, and even if he does, I'm hearing more and more arguments (from credible medical people) that even though there are a lot of unnecessary c-sections performed, there are also a lot of babies born vaginally who probably shouldn't be. As one example, we took Daniel to have an MRI the other day (he's fine - he was just participating in an advanced brain imaging study), and the woman running the study said that they had been very surprised to find that the MRI's of 26% of the vaginally born babies in the study so far have had a subdural hemotoma on the back of the brain. Yikes! Actually, she said it's no big deal; it heals. But this points to that I'm being irrational to grieve that vaginal delivery. It has been an effort for me not to feel like I somehow failed at being a good mom because I had to have a c-section. I wonder if my body (and perhaps the lives of many women who've had c-sections?) is grieving the loss of the pregnancy because I didn't have the biological ritual of closure that my body naturally expected.
I recognize that this is likely just hormones - some incarnation of "baby blues." I thought that "baby blues" were only a factor in the immediate days after childbirth. That's what it said on the website I looked at. (Of course, if it's on the internet it must be true!) I don't meet the criteria for PPD, clearly, but these last two days I have felt a bit unlike my usual smiley self. Maybe it's partly the flu shot I got this afternoon (Rhett and I both felt kind of cruddy after it); maybe it's more of the breastfeeding thing; the weight gain and c-section are clearly part of it; and of course it has a lot to do with the absence of structure that defines our lives these days (I'm well enough recovered now that I actually wake up whenever Daniel does). Whatever these are, I really hope they go away soon.
Monday, February 25, 2008
God help me learn to tolerate vegetables!
Well it looks like your papa and I are both ready to tackle our bodies. We went to my doctor today and my incision looks great, uterus is back down, and I've lost 31lbs. I'm currently 144.5, and at 6 weeks pregnant I weighed 127. I think that's a good goal to shoot for - healthier than 113. So, that means I've got 17 pounds to lose before I'm back to where I want to be, or at least, where I think I want to be.
Your dad is running a 5K on March 15, so that's his plan of action. For my plan, it will have to be a little less aggressive. I asked the doctor what kind of exercise is okay for me post c-section, and she said that I can walk, but no elliptical, resistance training, running, etc. Not that I am tempted to run. I do NOT run. I'm thinking that I'll modify my diet a little bit. Specifically, I'll be trying to cut down my sprite habit and drink more water. I need to make more alterations than that - like, eating regular, balanced meals rather than grazing a lot, but I've never been any good at that, so it may take a little time. I'm pretty motivated in that direction, though, because I think it's important for me and your dad to model good eating habits for you. God help me learn to tolerate vegetables! In the mean time, I'll also take advantage of the increasing numbers of beautiful days and go walking in the afternoons.
Your dad is running a 5K on March 15, so that's his plan of action. For my plan, it will have to be a little less aggressive. I asked the doctor what kind of exercise is okay for me post c-section, and she said that I can walk, but no elliptical, resistance training, running, etc. Not that I am tempted to run. I do NOT run. I'm thinking that I'll modify my diet a little bit. Specifically, I'll be trying to cut down my sprite habit and drink more water. I need to make more alterations than that - like, eating regular, balanced meals rather than grazing a lot, but I've never been any good at that, so it may take a little time. I'm pretty motivated in that direction, though, because I think it's important for me and your dad to model good eating habits for you. God help me learn to tolerate vegetables! In the mean time, I'll also take advantage of the increasing numbers of beautiful days and go walking in the afternoons.
Last night's sleep schedule
1:45am - to bed.
3:00 - 3:15am - changed diaper
6:00 - 6:45am - fed and changed
8:15am - up for the day.
3:00 - 3:15am - changed diaper
6:00 - 6:45am - fed and changed
8:15am - up for the day.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Sleep Log
Elizabeth Pantley's book, "The No Cry Sleep Solution" suggests keeping logs of how baby is sleeping in order to be able to teach baby to sleep a little better, longer, healthier, happier, etc. Our pediatrician points out that it's silly to try to teach a newborn anything about sleep b/c their circadian rhythms aren't mature enough to manipulate yet. So, we aren't trying to dictate Daniel's schedule yet. However, we're keeping the log so that when he can be guided (a time to which we are very much looking forward); here it is.
Morning of Sunday, February 24, 2008
1:00am: Getting drowsy; swaddled
1:15am: asleep
1:50am - 2:45am: fed and changed, fed again, changed again, sang some songs, fed again, changed again. Eventually feel asleep on Rhett’s chest.
4:15am – 5:15am: swinging, fed, finger sucking, changing, singing, begging. Returned to sleep on PP’s chest.
8:15am: Up for the day.
Morning of Sunday, February 24, 2008
1:00am: Getting drowsy; swaddled
1:15am: asleep
1:50am - 2:45am: fed and changed, fed again, changed again, sang some songs, fed again, changed again. Eventually feel asleep on Rhett’s chest.
4:15am – 5:15am: swinging, fed, finger sucking, changing, singing, begging. Returned to sleep on PP’s chest.
8:15am: Up for the day.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
I hate what I’m doing right now.
I’m out of shape, and there was a time that I was in shape and this would have been no problem, but the process of getting back into shape is a lot less enjoyable than it is to be already in shape. I'm getting ready for a 5K on March 15th. I’m on minute 22 of what is generally a 45 minute run. I hate every minute of what I’m doing; but sometimes we do things for our children that we wouldn’t do otherwise. I’m doing this because I want to be alive for my son, and I’m afraid of heart disease and diabetes. I should say, it’s a lot easier than it was the first time I did it 9 days ago; it’s much easier to do than it was yesterday because my wife and mother-in-law told me it’s gonna be okay. I would very much appreciate it if all of you would tell me it's gonna to be okay too.
*Dictated from treadmill to Em
*Dictated from treadmill to Em
Friday, February 22, 2008
What you need v. what I need
Dear Daniel,
Last night you grew up a bit; it felt like a pretty big deal to us. You slept in the co-sleeper for the first time. At first, you really, really didn’t like for us to put you down at all, especially when it was time for you to sleep. Then, you could sleep for very brief periods of time in a vibrating baby rocker (we call it your bumpy seat). Then, last night, you slept for the whole night (with the usual waking up for changes and snacks) in the co-sleeper.
The fact that you did that is not, in and of itself, all that remarkable I suppose. It’s a landmark event in your life and in ours, but it’s not all that surprising that you did it. What is remarkable is my reaction to it, and your father’s insights. As we turned out the lights, I found myself having this totally irrational fear that you would stop breathing if you weren’t in our arms. I missed you!
Totally unprovoked, and not yet having told my mother about this anxiety, she told me and your dad about the first time she and my dad ever left me after I was born. She says I was about a month old when she and my dad went to an arts and crafts festival for a few hours, leaving me with a perfectly capable mature adult who even had a child of her own. She said that while they were at the festival, she developed a totally irrational fear that I would be unable to breathe without her and my father there.
Why do we have these fears? We aren’t usually crazy people. Your dad reflected on his own thoughts and experience of these last few days, and I think the answer lies in his thoughts. There’s a trick to this parenting that we’re trying to get the hang of. We need to discern what is it exactly that you need, and what is it that we need? In other words, these last few days, have you needed to be held, or have we needed to hold you?
Particularly confusing is that something that you needed yesterday may be no longer important for you today. We have to figure these things out. You can’t tell us yet, and someday when you’re a child and a teenager, you’ll be able to tell us but sometimes you’ll be wrong. For now, it seems that you don’t need us to hold you while you sleep at night, as long as you’re fed, changed, and swaddled. But I confess, I don’t really know how much you actually need to be held during the day because your dad and I need to hold you.
I wonder what you’ll think when you read this someday. Will you think it makes sense and have some sympathy for your parents as we try to figure out these new things? Will you think we’re a little nuts? Those are probably both appropriate thoughts. Well, at least I’m honest about it, I guess.
Love, Mom
Last night you grew up a bit; it felt like a pretty big deal to us. You slept in the co-sleeper for the first time. At first, you really, really didn’t like for us to put you down at all, especially when it was time for you to sleep. Then, you could sleep for very brief periods of time in a vibrating baby rocker (we call it your bumpy seat). Then, last night, you slept for the whole night (with the usual waking up for changes and snacks) in the co-sleeper.
The fact that you did that is not, in and of itself, all that remarkable I suppose. It’s a landmark event in your life and in ours, but it’s not all that surprising that you did it. What is remarkable is my reaction to it, and your father’s insights. As we turned out the lights, I found myself having this totally irrational fear that you would stop breathing if you weren’t in our arms. I missed you!
Totally unprovoked, and not yet having told my mother about this anxiety, she told me and your dad about the first time she and my dad ever left me after I was born. She says I was about a month old when she and my dad went to an arts and crafts festival for a few hours, leaving me with a perfectly capable mature adult who even had a child of her own. She said that while they were at the festival, she developed a totally irrational fear that I would be unable to breathe without her and my father there.
Why do we have these fears? We aren’t usually crazy people. Your dad reflected on his own thoughts and experience of these last few days, and I think the answer lies in his thoughts. There’s a trick to this parenting that we’re trying to get the hang of. We need to discern what is it exactly that you need, and what is it that we need? In other words, these last few days, have you needed to be held, or have we needed to hold you?
Particularly confusing is that something that you needed yesterday may be no longer important for you today. We have to figure these things out. You can’t tell us yet, and someday when you’re a child and a teenager, you’ll be able to tell us but sometimes you’ll be wrong. For now, it seems that you don’t need us to hold you while you sleep at night, as long as you’re fed, changed, and swaddled. But I confess, I don’t really know how much you actually need to be held during the day because your dad and I need to hold you.
I wonder what you’ll think when you read this someday. Will you think it makes sense and have some sympathy for your parents as we try to figure out these new things? Will you think we’re a little nuts? Those are probably both appropriate thoughts. Well, at least I’m honest about it, I guess.
Love, Mom
Uh-oh
I gained a lot of weight when I was pregnant. People kept telling me “it’s all belly,” but I knew that wasn’t really true. There was not 62lbs of belly. But I didn’t worry about it, either. Some of it was water, related to high blood pressure; some of it was baby, some was placenta, some was increased blood volume. Now I know that I didn’t gain milk weight, but that’s usually only a pound or two. Well, I knew that I would have to face my body when pregnancy was over, and that time has arrived.
My mother arrived last night and she brought me my wedding and engagement rings. I could not get them on. Yikes. I have been wearing maternity clothes since Daniel’s birth, but the reason I haven’t tried non-maternity clothes has largely been that I don’t want regular pants waistbands touching my c-section incision. Now, however, I wonder if I may be in trouble. It’s a little confusing because I have absolutely no perspective about this. We don’t own a scale, so I don’t know what the number is on the scale.
February 13th of last year your dad and I went to my doctor to get instruction in how to begin to try to get pregnant. On that day, I weighed 113lbs. That’s less than I weighed since I was about 12 years old, so I’m not shooting to return to that. I wasn’t trying to be excessively thin at the time; I consider it a product of the fact that law school historically made me a little crazy and caused me to forget about food all too often. The last time I saw the doctor before Daniel was born, I weighed 175. Geez. That’s a very large difference! The question I have to answer now is what is a healthy weight for me, and I really don’t know.
My mother arrived last night and she brought me my wedding and engagement rings. I could not get them on. Yikes. I have been wearing maternity clothes since Daniel’s birth, but the reason I haven’t tried non-maternity clothes has largely been that I don’t want regular pants waistbands touching my c-section incision. Now, however, I wonder if I may be in trouble. It’s a little confusing because I have absolutely no perspective about this. We don’t own a scale, so I don’t know what the number is on the scale.
February 13th of last year your dad and I went to my doctor to get instruction in how to begin to try to get pregnant. On that day, I weighed 113lbs. That’s less than I weighed since I was about 12 years old, so I’m not shooting to return to that. I wasn’t trying to be excessively thin at the time; I consider it a product of the fact that law school historically made me a little crazy and caused me to forget about food all too often. The last time I saw the doctor before Daniel was born, I weighed 175. Geez. That’s a very large difference! The question I have to answer now is what is a healthy weight for me, and I really don’t know.
Danielisms
Dear Daniel,
I write to you at the close of the thirteenth day of your life. I know better than to think we can possibly know all that much about your personality when you are only 13 days old, but some things are appearing that are not what the books predicted, and which I think are really your own. It may be that this is just your personality for a tiny little time in your life, but for now, we are really enjoying getting to know the you that you are right now.
You are teaching us about yourself and how to be your parents. We’ve learned that you are a cluster eater. They told us that in the hospital, but we did not understand. Now we get it. You eat for several hours at a time, with only short breaks in the midst of a feeding. Apparently, I was a cluster eater too, and my mother found it very irritating. Your dad and I love it in you because it makes for longer stretches of sleep. Hallelujah!
Speaking of sleep, you make wonderful faces while you sleep. I assume that much of the time you are exploring your face, but when you dream (we can tell when you’re dreaming because we see your eyes moving around under your eyelids) I love to see how you smile and open your mouth as if you are laughing, and then sometimes you look distraught, the way you look when you need to burp or when your diaper is dirty and before we get the problem solved. I see those faces and I know that if you were awake you’d be about to cry; but then the faces pass and my heart rate returns to normal. I know that social smiles are not possible for another few weeks, but I really have a hard time believing that the smiles don’t still mean that you are happy.
All in all, I’d say you are a pretty darned happy baby. You very rarely cry, and when you do, it’s always because of some fairly obvious need like needing food, changing, to burp, or someone is doing something to you that you don’t like. You don’t like it when the nurse at the doctor’s stretches you out to measure your length, for instance. You also used to really hate being naked, but that seems to be passing. It’s still not your favorite thing, but now you just make little distressed vocalizations, rather than out and out crying, and your dad figured out that if we turn the dryer on next to the changing table, you don’t even make those noises.
My father is here visiting us and most importantly, meeting you. My father is very impressed with your contemplative countenance. When he says this he is referring to your tai-chi movements. You still do those. Also, you keep your hands very open, with your fingers extended beautifully. You rarely close them into a fist, as the books told us you would do.
Last night, when we thought that you were sleeping, I glanced down at your body out-stretched on my lap. You had your hands placed lightly atop your knees in the zen mudra for meditation; with your palms up and knuckles down, thumbs floating in a relaxed cup shape over your palms. Your dad, my dad, and I each took turns placing our fingers in the space between your hands and sure enough, we could feel a little ball of warm energy there. My dad maintained that you had clearly been here before, and since you were in a Japanese meditation posture you had probably been Japanese. I am inclined to think we project too much, but if indeed you are as contemplative as you currently seem, you’ll share a great deal with your grandfather. I note that your dad commented how much you looked like my father the first time he saw you. You’ll also share a great deal with your dad.
These are just a few of our early observations about you. Even now we can see that you are both a product of your parents and a uniquely new being.
What we know thus far, we love and like about you. It’s hard to really know how much of you we’re actually seeing, and how much may be our own projections. We’re really trying to keep a pretty open mind about you though, and we’ll try to continue to try to be aware of the differences between the emerging you and our projections onto you as you grow up, because ultimately the little light inside of you is what we want to shine. We are stunned again and again that you chose our family to be a part of; and we feel so blessed.
Love,
Mom and Dad
Sunday, February 17, 2008
I love you guys!
Dear Friends,
The primary purpose of this blog is to record some memories of pregnancy and these early days of parenthood because we've wanted to be intentional about preserving Daniel's story during the times that he can't remember (i.e., conception through early childhood); but it has served a really important secondary purpose for me as well. It has allowed me to get some really great perspective. The feedback I’ve gotten from all of you, both in comments and in e-mails has been so enormously supportive. It’s allowed me to have some dialogues that have given me the perspective I needed to feel totally up for this job. Some of you will see snippets of things I’ve written to you. You helped me to think through these disappointments in a way that I want to remember.
In the hours since I posted my feelings about breastfeeding, I've had a lot of feedback reminding me that we're doing our best, that Daniel has good parents, and that to nurse or not to nurse won't make or break his future. I also had a lot of comforting feedback when I was feeling so stressed out by all the voices telling me that we shouldn't be induced or that we should try to induce using methods I wasn't comfortable with. I hadn't realized that I needed to hear some voices from outside of my own head to counteract the judgments inside my own head. Thanks to all of you who have told us that we are doing great, and for encouraging us to reclaim that we-do-what's-right-for-us attitude that Rhett and I are generally able to pull off. I really do think it's true that we're doing great. I'm completely in love with this child, and even more in love with Rhett than I’ve ever been (which I didn't think was possible). In fact, I have to say that the emotional support we’ve received from all of you may even have been even more important to me than the logistical support we've received (and that's really saying something, because we've been so very supported logistically).
I have read that 70% of women experience baby blues. I have a couple of decent reasons to have baby blues. First is the breastfeeding thing, and second is the major trauma to my body that was childbirth. But I don't have blues at all! I do cry easily - mostly from the loving, warm, and wonderful e-mails I've received, but they are not tears from depression or even lows. Perhaps that will come at some point. But these disappointments are only disappointments. They do not rise to the level of "grief" or “blues” or “depression” and even these disappointments feel so small compared to the enormous joy I have in holding this perfect, healthy boy who has not yet heard the news that his mother and dad might be flawed. I have semi-joked and said that I'm sure we're going to screw this up at some point; after all, I think most well intentioned parents do make some pretty big goofs and have some pretty giant limitations. But I'm pretty sure we haven't done any irreparable damage yet. So far, it’s just too good.
My friend Stephanie made a very important point that continues to resonate with me. The process of preparing for child birth sets us up for the belief that we can control everything from child bearing to child rearing. At conception it’s “if you have sex on the right day you can control whether you get a boy or a girl;” and “start your prenatal vitamins at least three months in advance to make sure you don’t have a kid with certain health problems” and even “would you prefer to conceive in March or April?” Then once you get pregnant the obvious questions are “Is it a boy or a girl?” “Are you going to breastfeed?” “Are you going to deliver at X, Y, or Z?” “Are you planning to have an epidural?” “What name [identity] are you going to give him?” “Will you have him circumcised?” But so much is unknown! Would we even be able to conceive? Would we be able to breastfeed? How could we know if vaginal delivery would work out for us? Would his name come to us quickly or would we need some time to figure that out?
What I can say, though, is that Daniel's birth story was the perfect birth story for him because it was, in fact, HIS story. It needed to accommodate him and his needs. He was either unable or not inclined to come in the way that we imagined he would, but he got to come in the way that was best for him. His debut was his own, and by definition, then, it was perfect.
Thank-you all for helping me stay in touch with the enormously precious experience that these first days have been.
The primary purpose of this blog is to record some memories of pregnancy and these early days of parenthood because we've wanted to be intentional about preserving Daniel's story during the times that he can't remember (i.e., conception through early childhood); but it has served a really important secondary purpose for me as well. It has allowed me to get some really great perspective. The feedback I’ve gotten from all of you, both in comments and in e-mails has been so enormously supportive. It’s allowed me to have some dialogues that have given me the perspective I needed to feel totally up for this job. Some of you will see snippets of things I’ve written to you. You helped me to think through these disappointments in a way that I want to remember.
In the hours since I posted my feelings about breastfeeding, I've had a lot of feedback reminding me that we're doing our best, that Daniel has good parents, and that to nurse or not to nurse won't make or break his future. I also had a lot of comforting feedback when I was feeling so stressed out by all the voices telling me that we shouldn't be induced or that we should try to induce using methods I wasn't comfortable with. I hadn't realized that I needed to hear some voices from outside of my own head to counteract the judgments inside my own head. Thanks to all of you who have told us that we are doing great, and for encouraging us to reclaim that we-do-what's-right-for-us attitude that Rhett and I are generally able to pull off. I really do think it's true that we're doing great. I'm completely in love with this child, and even more in love with Rhett than I’ve ever been (which I didn't think was possible). In fact, I have to say that the emotional support we’ve received from all of you may even have been even more important to me than the logistical support we've received (and that's really saying something, because we've been so very supported logistically).
I have read that 70% of women experience baby blues. I have a couple of decent reasons to have baby blues. First is the breastfeeding thing, and second is the major trauma to my body that was childbirth. But I don't have blues at all! I do cry easily - mostly from the loving, warm, and wonderful e-mails I've received, but they are not tears from depression or even lows. Perhaps that will come at some point. But these disappointments are only disappointments. They do not rise to the level of "grief" or “blues” or “depression” and even these disappointments feel so small compared to the enormous joy I have in holding this perfect, healthy boy who has not yet heard the news that his mother and dad might be flawed. I have semi-joked and said that I'm sure we're going to screw this up at some point; after all, I think most well intentioned parents do make some pretty big goofs and have some pretty giant limitations. But I'm pretty sure we haven't done any irreparable damage yet. So far, it’s just too good.
My friend Stephanie made a very important point that continues to resonate with me. The process of preparing for child birth sets us up for the belief that we can control everything from child bearing to child rearing. At conception it’s “if you have sex on the right day you can control whether you get a boy or a girl;” and “start your prenatal vitamins at least three months in advance to make sure you don’t have a kid with certain health problems” and even “would you prefer to conceive in March or April?” Then once you get pregnant the obvious questions are “Is it a boy or a girl?” “Are you going to breastfeed?” “Are you going to deliver at X, Y, or Z?” “Are you planning to have an epidural?” “What name [identity] are you going to give him?” “Will you have him circumcised?” But so much is unknown! Would we even be able to conceive? Would we be able to breastfeed? How could we know if vaginal delivery would work out for us? Would his name come to us quickly or would we need some time to figure that out?
What I can say, though, is that Daniel's birth story was the perfect birth story for him because it was, in fact, HIS story. It needed to accommodate him and his needs. He was either unable or not inclined to come in the way that we imagined he would, but he got to come in the way that was best for him. His debut was his own, and by definition, then, it was perfect.
Thank-you all for helping me stay in touch with the enormously precious experience that these first days have been.
Friday, February 15, 2008
A new father reflects on his past and his son's future
Em is kind enough to take down these thoughts for me (Rhett) as I am holding and feeding our son.
For the last several months, I’ve given great thought to what it means to be a man. This began last April when I disclosed to Lisa and Liz at a healing service that PM and I were beginning the process of attempting to conceive a child. My thoughts intensified after we learned that we were pregnant; and I further explored these thoughts through a men’s group with friends from ECOTA in the fall. The question “what does it mean to be a man?” has been a particularly salient one for me because it cuts to the heart of what it now means for me to be a father, and what it means for me to seek to be one of hopefully many positive and healthy role models for our son.
It strikes me that the models of masculinity that our American culture has held up since this country’s founding are no longer working. The John Wayne approach to relationships, the George W. Bush approach to governing, and the all-consuming focus on success that leads many male athletes to use performance enhancing drugs cannot be the only models provided for my son. As a boy growing up in South Carolina, I intuitively knew that the models of masculinity around me did not work for me. I wasn’t a particularly good athlete, though I enjoyed sports; I couldn’t charm and manipulate women; I wasn’t able to use words and even might to engender the “respect” of my male peers. I longed for something more substantive by which to define myself as a man, but I didn’t know where to look for it, how to find it, and especially how to be what it was that I longed to be.
Over the last several days I have reflected on the last ten years of my life – a period in which I’ve done considerable self-reflection and therapy. As I consider certain periods of my life and the ways that I acted during those periods, sometimes I wonder who I was at those times. In particular, I recall the ways in which I acted in my first marriage and realize that I don’t even know that person anymore. My identity back then was confined to the narrow models of masculinity that I received from my father and mother, my grandparents, and from many of the men who mentored me in my early years in South Carolina. The experience of divorce, as painful as it was, was the most transformative experience of my life because it forced me into a time of despair. It was the most healing despair of my life in that I realized that the models I had been given did not work and would not work, and thus, I had to make changes.
I found the tools for internal change through mentors and therapists, through friends (male and female), and most importantly, through Em, my wife. I also found a number of cultural fathers who have modeled for me what I consider to be healthy masculinity.
There are many men in our society who have wed religion in politics in ways that I consider to be unhelpful, but which have engendered the support of Americans given our dominant gender narratives. For instance, for those in this school of thought, personal religious values are imposed upon others through public discourse and public policy. This has been the masculine politics of the last 28 years. I am heartened now that these narratives are changing and that we see models of masculinity emerging from the grassroots that place a high priority on community, compassion for children, respect for diverse family models, and love of neighbor. This way of being a man was embodied for me by an early cultural father, Walter Mondale and a more recent cultural father, Al Gore. These particular men are important models for me because they combine the religious and the political. Walter Mondale was the son of a Methodist pastor, and Al Gore is an ordained minister. Both have dedicated their lives to public service, and both have placed their own family at the pinnacle of their lives as well as the American family at the forefront of their public policy initiatives. These men are important to me because they hold conflicting masculine characteristics in tension. In these men, charm and wit are moderated by sincerity and responsibility; power is tempered with accountability, and a passion for public justice is informed by an awareness of the joys and struggles that Americans face daily.
This is an early reflection by a new father who wants to be a healthy masculine role-model for his son and who hopes his life will contribute to the making of a better society for all children and their families. I hope to be a role model who by example teaches his son a way of having caring friendships with men and women based on mutuality and respect.
After ten years of reflection I have been able to incorporate the many strengths of my father and mother and grandparents into my life and I have gained an appreciation for them and the contributions they made to my life. Among their contributions are an appreciation for family, a strong work ethic, and a commitment to public service. My hope and prayer is that our son will not need ten years of reflection in order to speak those words about his father. I am grateful for the many men presently in my life who have walked with me in preparation for fatherhood. I am grateful for the women who have shared this journey as well; and I look forward to these men and women being a part of the village that will help raise our son into the man that he is best able to be.
For the last several months, I’ve given great thought to what it means to be a man. This began last April when I disclosed to Lisa and Liz at a healing service that PM and I were beginning the process of attempting to conceive a child. My thoughts intensified after we learned that we were pregnant; and I further explored these thoughts through a men’s group with friends from ECOTA in the fall. The question “what does it mean to be a man?” has been a particularly salient one for me because it cuts to the heart of what it now means for me to be a father, and what it means for me to seek to be one of hopefully many positive and healthy role models for our son.
It strikes me that the models of masculinity that our American culture has held up since this country’s founding are no longer working. The John Wayne approach to relationships, the George W. Bush approach to governing, and the all-consuming focus on success that leads many male athletes to use performance enhancing drugs cannot be the only models provided for my son. As a boy growing up in South Carolina, I intuitively knew that the models of masculinity around me did not work for me. I wasn’t a particularly good athlete, though I enjoyed sports; I couldn’t charm and manipulate women; I wasn’t able to use words and even might to engender the “respect” of my male peers. I longed for something more substantive by which to define myself as a man, but I didn’t know where to look for it, how to find it, and especially how to be what it was that I longed to be.
Over the last several days I have reflected on the last ten years of my life – a period in which I’ve done considerable self-reflection and therapy. As I consider certain periods of my life and the ways that I acted during those periods, sometimes I wonder who I was at those times. In particular, I recall the ways in which I acted in my first marriage and realize that I don’t even know that person anymore. My identity back then was confined to the narrow models of masculinity that I received from my father and mother, my grandparents, and from many of the men who mentored me in my early years in South Carolina. The experience of divorce, as painful as it was, was the most transformative experience of my life because it forced me into a time of despair. It was the most healing despair of my life in that I realized that the models I had been given did not work and would not work, and thus, I had to make changes.
I found the tools for internal change through mentors and therapists, through friends (male and female), and most importantly, through Em, my wife. I also found a number of cultural fathers who have modeled for me what I consider to be healthy masculinity.
There are many men in our society who have wed religion in politics in ways that I consider to be unhelpful, but which have engendered the support of Americans given our dominant gender narratives. For instance, for those in this school of thought, personal religious values are imposed upon others through public discourse and public policy. This has been the masculine politics of the last 28 years. I am heartened now that these narratives are changing and that we see models of masculinity emerging from the grassroots that place a high priority on community, compassion for children, respect for diverse family models, and love of neighbor. This way of being a man was embodied for me by an early cultural father, Walter Mondale and a more recent cultural father, Al Gore. These particular men are important models for me because they combine the religious and the political. Walter Mondale was the son of a Methodist pastor, and Al Gore is an ordained minister. Both have dedicated their lives to public service, and both have placed their own family at the pinnacle of their lives as well as the American family at the forefront of their public policy initiatives. These men are important to me because they hold conflicting masculine characteristics in tension. In these men, charm and wit are moderated by sincerity and responsibility; power is tempered with accountability, and a passion for public justice is informed by an awareness of the joys and struggles that Americans face daily.
This is an early reflection by a new father who wants to be a healthy masculine role-model for his son and who hopes his life will contribute to the making of a better society for all children and their families. I hope to be a role model who by example teaches his son a way of having caring friendships with men and women based on mutuality and respect.
After ten years of reflection I have been able to incorporate the many strengths of my father and mother and grandparents into my life and I have gained an appreciation for them and the contributions they made to my life. Among their contributions are an appreciation for family, a strong work ethic, and a commitment to public service. My hope and prayer is that our son will not need ten years of reflection in order to speak those words about his father. I am grateful for the many men presently in my life who have walked with me in preparation for fatherhood. I am grateful for the women who have shared this journey as well; and I look forward to these men and women being a part of the village that will help raise our son into the man that he is best able to be.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Ah, breastfeeding.
I am trying very hard to breastfeed, but it isn't going very well, and this makes me sad. My milk has not come in at all, despite my spending lots of time on a pump and also using a supplemental nursing system to feed Daniel. He latches on pretty well I think, but has a hard time staying latched on. The lactation consultants at the hospital were very helpful, but they can't get water from a stone. So far, I have had literally ONE drop of breastmilk come out of my body. I was so excited I almost cried. But I have talked to several doctors and lactation consultants who are all pretty pessimistic. As the pediatrician said, at this point the milk should have come in, and if it hasn't by now it's probably just not going to happen.
Our doctor has tried to allay my fears about the harm that could come to Daniel from not being breastfed, but I know that breastmilk is uncontroversially best for him. Moreover, I live in a community where it seems like good and responsible parents are ALWAYS expected to breastfeed, and it looks like I can't. I find that I have some pretty significant grief over this issue, and even a bit of shame, and I don't know how I will explain that we are formula feeding our child. I don't really want to discuss lactation with everyone I know, but it seems like everyone - even a random old guy at the dog park - thinks it's okay to ask me if I'm planning to nurse my kid.
In addition to really believing that breastmilk is best and my worries that Daniel is being deprived of something really important, I think all of this ties back to my issue with how other people that I like and respect will view me as a parent. This is positively idiotic. I'm normally not at all vulnerable in this way. I'm pretty good at realizing that my life has taken many non-traditional turns and that when I'm graceful about that, things go well. But I guess I don't like being complicated around the issue of parenting. I want what works for other people to work for me as well. Is this hormones too? Is this my unique little version of the baby blues? I'm deliriosly happy in every other way; but when I think about nursing I feel genuine grief.
Our doctor has tried to allay my fears about the harm that could come to Daniel from not being breastfed, but I know that breastmilk is uncontroversially best for him. Moreover, I live in a community where it seems like good and responsible parents are ALWAYS expected to breastfeed, and it looks like I can't. I find that I have some pretty significant grief over this issue, and even a bit of shame, and I don't know how I will explain that we are formula feeding our child. I don't really want to discuss lactation with everyone I know, but it seems like everyone - even a random old guy at the dog park - thinks it's okay to ask me if I'm planning to nurse my kid.
In addition to really believing that breastmilk is best and my worries that Daniel is being deprived of something really important, I think all of this ties back to my issue with how other people that I like and respect will view me as a parent. This is positively idiotic. I'm normally not at all vulnerable in this way. I'm pretty good at realizing that my life has taken many non-traditional turns and that when I'm graceful about that, things go well. But I guess I don't like being complicated around the issue of parenting. I want what works for other people to work for me as well. Is this hormones too? Is this my unique little version of the baby blues? I'm deliriosly happy in every other way; but when I think about nursing I feel genuine grief.
Overview of Parenthood So-Far
We are really happy, and really tired. We went to the pediatrician for the first time yesterday. That was exciting. Daniel is still in perfect health. Rhett and I have developed a bizarre obsession with baby output. Rhett even carried along a soiled diaper in a zip-lock bag to have the doctor inspect.
Sleeping is hard, as we knew it would be. For the first two nights it hasn't been possible to put Daniel down and go to sleep ourselves, so we've been sleeping in shifts. One stays in the living room with Daniel and the other tries to sleep in the bedroom. The result is that we are both tired because neither of us sleeps all that well without the other. The doctor talked with us about ways that we can safely nap with him nestled in the crook of our arms, and at first I didn't think that would work, but we've tried it a couple of times for short naps and it seems to be going decently well. We wake up at the tiniest noise. Also, we have a bouncy seat that we tried putting him in for short periods last night and today, and that has gone surprisingly well. I say surprisingly because I figured that if he didn't like the co-sleeper, nothing would work.
I'm hoping we can get Daniel used to being worn in our Maya Wrap sling or in a Bjorn in the coming days. The Maya Wrap has met with mostly disgruntled results from Daniel, but I have benefited from it a great deal because I can't lift anything heavier than 10lbs (per discharge instructions, but also just the reality of having had major abdominal surgery and being weak and uncentered). Obviously, that's a problem,since Daniel was born at 10lbs and hasn't lost much weight at all -still weighs 9lbs, 6oz. For me to be able to feed myself, answer a phone, go to the bathroom, or anything else, I have to have some device to help me manage his weight. I think the Maya Wrap will take a little practice; fortunately we have a DVD from the company to help us get it right. We put Daniel in the Bjorn the day we came home, and I must say I feel like an idiot. He had just been circumcised about 8 hours before, and he screamed bloody murder. Dumb new parent mistake. Do not put baby's full weight onto his crotch immediately after operating on said crotch.
The joys are overwhelming. He is opening his eyes more and more often, and he works hard to take in and make sense of what he sees. His eyes are open about 30 min. total per day, and he is beautiful. Other joys are the sweet cooing noises, the little grunts he makes as he tries to nurse, and those gorgeously graceful tai-chi movements he makes with his arms,head, mouth, and legs. The arm and head movements are the coolest because I remember feeling them while he was upside down inside me.
Sleeping is hard, as we knew it would be. For the first two nights it hasn't been possible to put Daniel down and go to sleep ourselves, so we've been sleeping in shifts. One stays in the living room with Daniel and the other tries to sleep in the bedroom. The result is that we are both tired because neither of us sleeps all that well without the other. The doctor talked with us about ways that we can safely nap with him nestled in the crook of our arms, and at first I didn't think that would work, but we've tried it a couple of times for short naps and it seems to be going decently well. We wake up at the tiniest noise. Also, we have a bouncy seat that we tried putting him in for short periods last night and today, and that has gone surprisingly well. I say surprisingly because I figured that if he didn't like the co-sleeper, nothing would work.
I'm hoping we can get Daniel used to being worn in our Maya Wrap sling or in a Bjorn in the coming days. The Maya Wrap has met with mostly disgruntled results from Daniel, but I have benefited from it a great deal because I can't lift anything heavier than 10lbs (per discharge instructions, but also just the reality of having had major abdominal surgery and being weak and uncentered). Obviously, that's a problem,since Daniel was born at 10lbs and hasn't lost much weight at all -still weighs 9lbs, 6oz. For me to be able to feed myself, answer a phone, go to the bathroom, or anything else, I have to have some device to help me manage his weight. I think the Maya Wrap will take a little practice; fortunately we have a DVD from the company to help us get it right. We put Daniel in the Bjorn the day we came home, and I must say I feel like an idiot. He had just been circumcised about 8 hours before, and he screamed bloody murder. Dumb new parent mistake. Do not put baby's full weight onto his crotch immediately after operating on said crotch.
The joys are overwhelming. He is opening his eyes more and more often, and he works hard to take in and make sense of what he sees. His eyes are open about 30 min. total per day, and he is beautiful. Other joys are the sweet cooing noises, the little grunts he makes as he tries to nurse, and those gorgeously graceful tai-chi movements he makes with his arms,head, mouth, and legs. The arm and head movements are the coolest because I remember feeling them while he was upside down inside me.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Don Kennedy, Photographer Extraordinaire
Our friend and gifted photographer came by the hospital to meet and take some early shots of Daniel, and it looks like Daniel enjoys being in front of the camera. This, and the shot below are a couple of the ones Don sent us to peek at. If anyone is looking for a fantastic photographer, look no further. Who else could get a 1 day old baby to smile? don@donkennedyphotography.com
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Rated PG-13 for Occasional Language and Minimally Gory Content: For the details of our birth story, please see below.
The tired, happy, punkie family
Our Story
Daniel was due on 1/31, and when he still hadn’t come a week after that, physicians encouraged us to get an induction. They named all the typical reasons for that. The fact that Em's blood pressure had gotten quite high again was among them. Em was also a little nervous that this baby was still growing, and all previous exams had indicated that he would at least be on the high-side of average size. So, we tried (almost) every fathomable natural method of induction, none of which worked, and Em was induced with Pitocin at 11am on Thursday, the 7th. Contractions began shortly thereafter. They were gentle enough in the beginning; Em; PunkiePapa (hereafter, Rhett); Em’s mom, L; and Em’s sister, K talked, played Rummy, and watched CNN. Em was dilated to about 6cm at that point, until her water broke spontaneously at about 5:30pm. As contractions intensified cards and conversations stopped and we hoped for progress.
For Em, those next several hours are a blur. The doctors and nurse kept saying that the contractions were in a good pattern and that they weren’t progressing quite as fast as they would ordinarily expect but that was okay as long as Em and baby still seemed healthy. They mentioned that infection might become an issue if the baby weren’t born quickly enough because the water had broken. They weren’t too worried about that, so neither were we; but they encouraged us to try to change positions a lot to help the baby arrange himself into a more comfortable and rapid path down the birth canal. As we did that, Em concluded that it was imperative to get an epidural. The type of epidural they gave was a “light” epidural, which means that it helped take the edge off of contractions, but it only lessened the pain, it did not take it entirely away. That’s because time was becoming an issue, and it was important not to slow or de-intensify the contractions.
The great added blessing for her during those enormously stressful hours was the presence and wisdom of our primary doula, Andee. Andee was a calming presence for all of us, and provided great physical relief by teaching Rhett and Em’s mom, Linda to massage key areas to help Em deal with pain. Em recalls Andee as having inspired Em to have continued faith in herself to cope with both the expected and unexpected difficulties of labor, and will be eternally grateful.
Em developed a fever during the night and the baby’s heart rate got quite high. To their credit, the doctors didn’t overreact. They started antibiotics and fever medication preemptively in an effort to continue our attempt at having a vaginal delivery. We reached 9cm in the wee hours of Friday morning and at 1Em were still there. By this time, our primary doula, Andee had called in a very lovely and experienced back-up doula, Gail, who became an additional source of great support for us. We estimate that Em had labored at 9cm for about six hours at the point that the attending physician said that the baby was in danger and needed to be delivered imminently. We consulted with the head midwife before making a decision. Somehow, Em just couldn’t hear the C-Section recommendation from a surgeon with the same faith she could hear it from a midwife. That was probably slightly irrational, but we were making the best decisions we could with too little information in too little time. The doctors and midwives had all recommended a C-Section at around 12pm. By 12:30, we had made the decision to proceed surgically.
Em gave the doctor’s explicit instructions not to give her their usual play-by-play (I’m going to use a blank, I’m about to cut, you’re going to feel a little blah, blah, blah), and they asked her what she would like for them to talk about. She suggested that they tell her about themselves, so one of them said “I’m from Cincinnati; and I’m a huge fan of the Cincinnati Bengals.” Em responded “Is that a sport?” and they moved on to TV programs. Law and Order met with an ignorant audience too, so they then began to discuss Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune. Apparently there is great enthusiasm among C-Section performers for Jeopardy but the same folks are disconcerted by the fact that Pat Sajac has not aged since 1985. Who knew? From that discussion came the words “What a big head;” then the anesthesiologist who stood on our side of the curtain looked over it and his eyes grew big as he said (clearly to himself) “HOLY Shit!” Can anyone among you imagine that those are not the most pastoral words he could have chosen at that moment?
Em said “Holy shit? What do you mean? What's going on?” and after a momentary delay he responded “You gave birth to a toddler.”
After the delivery, the doctors attended to little Daniel, taking his foot and hand prints, listening for his heartbeat, taking his blood pressure, etc. Rhett was with Daniel at this first doctor’s appointment, giving Em the play by play about how Daniel looked, what the doctor was doing, and measuring Daniel’s weight and height (10lbs and, 21.75 inches long). Daniel did not initially let out a big scream. The doctors said that Daniel had expected to enter the world in a different manner than he did, and thus he was a bit disoriented. Rhett commented that Daniel’s expression communicated, “what the hell just happened to me?” Soon though, Daniel screamed out a ringing announcement, telling the world know that he had arrived. It was a joyful arrival indeed!
Rhett and Baby Daniel visited with Em briefly as the doctors finished her surgery, and briefly during recovery. Rhett and Gail (doula) attended to Em during recovery, massaging her legs to assist the return of feeling to her lower body. New Grandma Linda and Aunt Katie followed Baby Daniel to the nursery to watch his first bath and see him dressed in his first outfit.
About an hour later, Em was transferred to 5 Women’s for bonding with Baby Daniel. Since then, Rhett and Em have been up to their ears in diapers, nursing instruction, and swaddling blankets. With the great support of primary doula, Andee; back-up doula, Gail; the nursing staff; Grandma, L; the Brown grandparents; a blessing from priest, Lisa; and calls, emails and visits from family and friends, Rhett and Em are slowly getting to know Baby Daniel’s needs and learning to respond with love and nurture.
What Makes Daniel Unique?So, we may be a little biased, but we think our son is great. In fact, he is the cutest little baby we have ever seen (all of your babies excepted of course). He came into the world doing Tae-Chi movements with his head, mouth, hands and legs, rolling around in gentle fluid movements as if he were under water. He has chubby pink cheeks, a precious little nose, and wavy brown hair all over his perfect little giant head. He has HUGE hands and feet, broad shoulders, and a little buddha belly. Rhett’s father joked that he came out of womb wearing a South Carolina football jersey. Rhett is not very enthusiastic about the idea of his son enduring Rhett’s experience of the years of pain and suffering that come with watching much less playing for the hapless South Carolina Gamecocks.
Concluding Thoughts
Tonight, Rhett, Em and Baby Daniel (who was sleeping) watched returns from the Democratic primaries in Louisiana, Nebraska and Washington. Grandma Linda noted that this would be the first of many nights in which Daniel watches election results with his parents. Though we plan not to dictate his interests, we are excited that our son is born at a time in our nation’s history where the Democratic nominee for president will be a woman or an African-American person. There are a lot of things about this county and this world that worry these two new parents. What will the environment look like when he is our age? Will he always be able to see a doctor when he needs one? Will he always have the kinds of love and support from extra familial resources as we have in so many of you? But as we look at the support network into which he has been born, the last few weeks’ primary results and his perfect little body in this room with us now, we truly, truly get the belief in a place called hope that one former president worked for, and that either of the two Democratic contenders will surely work for too.
Rhett cannot say enough about Em’s inner toughness and resilience. Her experience of labor was intense, extremely painful, and at times disappointing. Yet she was amazingly tough. She always thought first and foremost of her son’s best interest even in the midst of a 24 hour labor, culminating with major surgery. She is Rhett’s definition of toughness and Rhett’s experience of witnessing her labor of love on his behalf and on behalf of their new family is by far the most meaningful experience of his life. Rhett is proud to be Em’s partner in life, love, and parenting.
Is this the birth story that we hoped for? Clearly not. But our son is healthy; Em’s body is healing; and Rhett has been a beacon of hope, an endless source of strength, and the energizer bunny of baby care. We have amazing nursing staff around us, and a little longer than most new parents to enjoy them. We have everything we need, and a great deal more. Thank-you for being a part of what we need, and of the great deal more. We love you all, and we are blessed that you are the village that will help us raise this child.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Quick Baby Announcement
Dear Friends and Loved Ones,
We were so pleased to welcome our son, Daniel Gradyn, born at 1:18pm on Friday, February 8th at UNC Hospitals. We labored for about 24 hours and wound up having to have a C-Section because the baby and Em had developed an infection. Both Mom & Baby are recovering well. We are still at UNC Women’s Hospital, and assuming Daniel continues to respond well to antibiotics, we anticipate discharge on Monday. We look forward to posting a picture and a more detailed birth story as soon as energy permits, and we especially look forward to introducing you to Daniel soon.
Thanks for all your love, prayers, and support,
Em and Rhett
We were so pleased to welcome our son, Daniel Gradyn, born at 1:18pm on Friday, February 8th at UNC Hospitals. We labored for about 24 hours and wound up having to have a C-Section because the baby and Em had developed an infection. Both Mom & Baby are recovering well. We are still at UNC Women’s Hospital, and assuming Daniel continues to respond well to antibiotics, we anticipate discharge on Monday. We look forward to posting a picture and a more detailed birth story as soon as energy permits, and we especially look forward to introducing you to Daniel soon.
Thanks for all your love, prayers, and support,
Em and Rhett
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Dear Readers
Dear Readers,
I’ve gotten several e-mails and comments from some of you with gentle, helpful tips and lots of prayers and well-wishes. I really want to thank all of you for that. I’m feeling vulnerable right now because I’ve been catching a good bit of flack from some very well intentioned people for the decision to get induced. It’s been vigorous and patronizing; it assumes that I’m not very smart and that I haven’t done good research. It has come, without exception, from women who have never had children or faced such decisions themselves; nor are they healthcare professionals. My cell phone has rung too much tonight.
I have enjoyed being able to be transparent about our process because, until recently, I never had to make a controversial decision and no one ever attacked me (it’s not like I’ve been smoking and drinking my way through pregnancy); but now that reasonable minds can differ about what the right decision is with regard to my health, my labor experience, and the well-being of this baby, I find myself feeling guarded. I’m clearly hormonal – weepy and short-tempered – but regardless of the reason, I’m finding that my feelings are really hurt by all the fervor dedicated to getting me to do things I don’t feel comfortable doing. Why do people do this? I know and respect these people, and under ordinary circumstances, they are interesting and likeable; so why in this vulnerable time are they so unkind? I really don’t get it. But I’m pretty okay (though still very disappointed) and I’m particularly grateful for all of you who have been so kind to us throughout this amazing, beautiful, sometimes difficult journey, especially in these last few days.
My love and hugs to all of you,
Em
I’ve gotten several e-mails and comments from some of you with gentle, helpful tips and lots of prayers and well-wishes. I really want to thank all of you for that. I’m feeling vulnerable right now because I’ve been catching a good bit of flack from some very well intentioned people for the decision to get induced. It’s been vigorous and patronizing; it assumes that I’m not very smart and that I haven’t done good research. It has come, without exception, from women who have never had children or faced such decisions themselves; nor are they healthcare professionals. My cell phone has rung too much tonight.
I have enjoyed being able to be transparent about our process because, until recently, I never had to make a controversial decision and no one ever attacked me (it’s not like I’ve been smoking and drinking my way through pregnancy); but now that reasonable minds can differ about what the right decision is with regard to my health, my labor experience, and the well-being of this baby, I find myself feeling guarded. I’m clearly hormonal – weepy and short-tempered – but regardless of the reason, I’m finding that my feelings are really hurt by all the fervor dedicated to getting me to do things I don’t feel comfortable doing. Why do people do this? I know and respect these people, and under ordinary circumstances, they are interesting and likeable; so why in this vulnerable time are they so unkind? I really don’t get it. But I’m pretty okay (though still very disappointed) and I’m particularly grateful for all of you who have been so kind to us throughout this amazing, beautiful, sometimes difficult journey, especially in these last few days.
My love and hugs to all of you,
Em
Getting ready
Hi there little one,
We're readying ourselves as best we can tonight. We went to a movie in an effort to distract ourselves and pass the time; your dad and I went for a walk in hopes that it would help you come. But now we've pretty well resigned ourselves to the inevitability that we will get induced tomorrow at 11am and that it's really the best decision. I'm not happy about it and I have not given up on the various homeopathic, herbal, naturalish, etc. remedies; but I'm happy with our decision to have this induction. We're really excited to meet you. Your aunt K is on her way here. Uncle S can't come because he has a job interview in Atlanta, but he'll be here in spirit. Our support network is on board - praying, thinking, sending good vibes - and we will see you soon. I hope this is the right decision and that by the time you meet us, you'll be happy to meet us too.
Love, Mom
We're readying ourselves as best we can tonight. We went to a movie in an effort to distract ourselves and pass the time; your dad and I went for a walk in hopes that it would help you come. But now we've pretty well resigned ourselves to the inevitability that we will get induced tomorrow at 11am and that it's really the best decision. I'm not happy about it and I have not given up on the various homeopathic, herbal, naturalish, etc. remedies; but I'm happy with our decision to have this induction. We're really excited to meet you. Your aunt K is on her way here. Uncle S can't come because he has a job interview in Atlanta, but he'll be here in spirit. Our support network is on board - praying, thinking, sending good vibes - and we will see you soon. I hope this is the right decision and that by the time you meet us, you'll be happy to meet us too.
Love, Mom
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Upping the Ante
Hi Little Guy,
We had another false alarm today. Your dad and I went for a lovely walk, and were really enjoying this BEAUTIFUL day, when again, I thought I'd sprung a leak. This leak was much more convincing than the last one, but still, I didn't want to go in because the day was beautiful and I wanted more certainty before our next visit to the hospital. Alas, I called our nurse and she said that without question we had to go to the hospital to get checked out, and we did.
To make a long story short, the doctor at the hospital tested again and concluded that we still aren't in labor and we haven't dilated any more than we had last Sunday; but she also said that we should schedule an induction. She said that the chances of stillbirth are "exponentially higher" after we reach 41 weeks; and that while they occasionally do let people go to 42 weeks, it's really much riskier. She also said that since I'm dilated as much as I am, my chances of needing a C-section after getting induced remain low. So, your dad, your grandmother and I discussed it, and we decided to schedule the induction for Thursday morning at 11am. I'm a little sad about that because I had hoped to let you come in your own time, in your own way, but I also don't want to take any chances. Also, you are likely around 8lbs right now, and you will keep growing and growing as long as you're in there. I'm not looking for a painless delivery, but I hope for something possible. So, please, please, please, if you can intuit the content of these blog posts and my other communications with you, come soon!
Love, Mom
We had another false alarm today. Your dad and I went for a lovely walk, and were really enjoying this BEAUTIFUL day, when again, I thought I'd sprung a leak. This leak was much more convincing than the last one, but still, I didn't want to go in because the day was beautiful and I wanted more certainty before our next visit to the hospital. Alas, I called our nurse and she said that without question we had to go to the hospital to get checked out, and we did.
To make a long story short, the doctor at the hospital tested again and concluded that we still aren't in labor and we haven't dilated any more than we had last Sunday; but she also said that we should schedule an induction. She said that the chances of stillbirth are "exponentially higher" after we reach 41 weeks; and that while they occasionally do let people go to 42 weeks, it's really much riskier. She also said that since I'm dilated as much as I am, my chances of needing a C-section after getting induced remain low. So, your dad, your grandmother and I discussed it, and we decided to schedule the induction for Thursday morning at 11am. I'm a little sad about that because I had hoped to let you come in your own time, in your own way, but I also don't want to take any chances. Also, you are likely around 8lbs right now, and you will keep growing and growing as long as you're in there. I'm not looking for a painless delivery, but I hope for something possible. So, please, please, please, if you can intuit the content of these blog posts and my other communications with you, come soon!
Love, Mom
Trying to think about ANYTHING else
It's hard to think about anything other than your imminent arrival these days. None of us - me, your dad, or your grandmother - really can. Last night we were pondering what to make for dinner, and we eliminated options that we thought might take a long time because we didn't want to be in the middle of them when we went into labor. Your aunt K and uncle S are still in Macon, and they want to know when to come, and I know that they need at least 8 hours notice if they are going to make it here in time for your birth, but I'm afraid to tell them to come because I'm just not at all sure I know how long it will be. I understand why people schedule inductions. I'm not ready to do that, but I get it. In the land of small blessings, though, I slept really well last night; at least, for someone who has had to get up to pee every 1/2 hour by day for the last two days, and every couple hours by nightfor a few nights. I only got up once in the whole night! And at 8:06am, your dad and grandmother are still sleeping. Your dad seems peaceful, and that's truly wonderful. I wondered if he'd really be able to catch up on any sleep before you came. So these moments are precious; nonetheless, we're all really hoping that the next moment will bring an unabashedly real contraction. Sigh. Please come.
Love, Mom
Love, Mom
Monday, February 4, 2008
Today's Doctor's Appt.
Well Kiddo,
You're still in there, but definately not for long. We went to the doctor today at 2:30, and my blood pressure had really jumped up. The first time they took it, it was 134/89, then they took it again and said it was 134/87, then they took it with me lying down, and it was 128/84. This borders on bad, and this brings back the concern of preeclampsia; but it isn't so bad that it's dangerous. We did talk about induction, but it isn't medically necessary, so I decided that I'd rather let you come the more traditional way. I say traditional, but I plan to stick with the evening primrose oil, rasberry tea, tincture, etc. because barring the medical induction route, I'm ready for you to arrive.
We didn't have a cervical exam today because after yesterday's exam, Dr. Schlegel said we're obviously pretty dilated, but all we can know at this point is that it "could happen anytime now." She and Donna (the nurse) both think you'll be here in the next day or so, and I just didn't think it was worth going through the medical induction if you're going to get here soon anyway. I'm not feeling quite so flexible about your arrival as I once did because your grandmother is here right now, and she'll have to go back to Macon on Monday of next week. She's a huge source of support for us and she'll be able to help us care for you as we recover from labor and delivery. We don't want her to have to go quickly home immediately after your birth. So, I do hope you know that we're ready for you. Your dad is resting on the couch, having finished all of his CPS work, and we're all trying to rest well until you come. We're really trying to make sure you have the readiest parents we can be for you. I really think we're 100% there; and that's good, because these funny, slightly uncomfortable twingy things happening around the circumference of my stomach might just be the beginning of your debut. I hope so. We can't wait to meet you.
Love, Mom
You're still in there, but definately not for long. We went to the doctor today at 2:30, and my blood pressure had really jumped up. The first time they took it, it was 134/89, then they took it again and said it was 134/87, then they took it with me lying down, and it was 128/84. This borders on bad, and this brings back the concern of preeclampsia; but it isn't so bad that it's dangerous. We did talk about induction, but it isn't medically necessary, so I decided that I'd rather let you come the more traditional way. I say traditional, but I plan to stick with the evening primrose oil, rasberry tea, tincture, etc. because barring the medical induction route, I'm ready for you to arrive.
We didn't have a cervical exam today because after yesterday's exam, Dr. Schlegel said we're obviously pretty dilated, but all we can know at this point is that it "could happen anytime now." She and Donna (the nurse) both think you'll be here in the next day or so, and I just didn't think it was worth going through the medical induction if you're going to get here soon anyway. I'm not feeling quite so flexible about your arrival as I once did because your grandmother is here right now, and she'll have to go back to Macon on Monday of next week. She's a huge source of support for us and she'll be able to help us care for you as we recover from labor and delivery. We don't want her to have to go quickly home immediately after your birth. So, I do hope you know that we're ready for you. Your dad is resting on the couch, having finished all of his CPS work, and we're all trying to rest well until you come. We're really trying to make sure you have the readiest parents we can be for you. I really think we're 100% there; and that's good, because these funny, slightly uncomfortable twingy things happening around the circumference of my stomach might just be the beginning of your debut. I hope so. We can't wait to meet you.
Love, Mom
See you today?
Hi Kiddo,
Last week we missed church because of a false alarm, so it seemed like an extra-special treat to get to go to church yesterday, 4cm. dilated. Thank-you for allowing us that. The sermon was excellent and it was wonderful to see everyone! I am confident that all will go well as we bring you into the world, but this was an especially nice way to begin what will surely be your birth week.
Today, at 2:30pm we have an appointment with the doctor (assuming nothing major changes in the next 5 hours). Who knows what that will reveal? Also, today is your great grandmother's (my paternal grandmother's) birthday. I wonder if you'll be born today?
Love, Mom
Last week we missed church because of a false alarm, so it seemed like an extra-special treat to get to go to church yesterday, 4cm. dilated. Thank-you for allowing us that. The sermon was excellent and it was wonderful to see everyone! I am confident that all will go well as we bring you into the world, but this was an especially nice way to begin what will surely be your birth week.
Today, at 2:30pm we have an appointment with the doctor (assuming nothing major changes in the next 5 hours). Who knows what that will reveal? Also, today is your great grandmother's (my paternal grandmother's) birthday. I wonder if you'll be born today?
Love, Mom
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Here we go!
Hi there, Little One,
It looks like something is afoot. I woke up with a false alarm, so I called labor and delivery and they had me come in. They did an cervical exam and it turns out that I'm 4cm dilated and 50% effaced. That's pretty incredible given the total absence of pain or discomfort these last few days, and the fact that as of Tueday we weren't even 1cm dilated. I wonder if all the tincture, red rasberry leaf tea, and two nights of large doses of evening primrose oil might have done all this! Actually, the doctor was kind of amazed at what she found when she examined me. She said it felt like they had inserted a foley bulb, which is one of the methods they use for inducing labor there at the hospital. (It's uncommon for someone to get to 4cm without being more effaced). She said "Interesting!" about a dozen times. The doctor said she thought it would be sometime in the next couple of days, and even said that we might well be in labor before our doctor's appointment at 2:30 tomorrow. So, Mom isn't going home. We're hanging out here and busying ourselves. Soon and very soon...
I can't wait to meet you!!!
Love, Mom
It looks like something is afoot. I woke up with a false alarm, so I called labor and delivery and they had me come in. They did an cervical exam and it turns out that I'm 4cm dilated and 50% effaced. That's pretty incredible given the total absence of pain or discomfort these last few days, and the fact that as of Tueday we weren't even 1cm dilated. I wonder if all the tincture, red rasberry leaf tea, and two nights of large doses of evening primrose oil might have done all this! Actually, the doctor was kind of amazed at what she found when she examined me. She said it felt like they had inserted a foley bulb, which is one of the methods they use for inducing labor there at the hospital. (It's uncommon for someone to get to 4cm without being more effaced). She said "Interesting!" about a dozen times. The doctor said she thought it would be sometime in the next couple of days, and even said that we might well be in labor before our doctor's appointment at 2:30 tomorrow. So, Mom isn't going home. We're hanging out here and busying ourselves. Soon and very soon...
I can't wait to meet you!!!
Love, Mom
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Acupressure Induction Instructions
And here are instructions on using Acupressure from Ehow.com. Acupressure involves applying pressure using your fingers and thumbs on specific points. Using acupressure is a natural way to induce labor by helping the cervix to ripen and dilate. This is a completely safe way to induce labor for both mother and baby. Here are some acupressure techniques that you can use to induce labor.
Instructions
Difficulty: Moderately Easy
1
Step One
Push on the hoku spot which can be found on the top of your hand. It is located in the webbing between your forefinger and your thumb. Massage this area at an angle to stimulate contractions. It may feel slightly tender in this area. This affects the large intestine which surrounds a portion of the uterus.
2
Step Two
Rub the area called spleen 6 for one minute. To find this area, place four fingers above your ankle bone on the inside of your ankle. Applying pressure to this point helps ripen the cervix and strengthen weak contractions.
3
Step Three
Find the bladder 32 spot by tracing one finger width above the buttocks crease. You should feel a small indentation at this point. Massage this point for one minute.
4
Step Four
Apply pressure to BL60 to help the baby descend toward the pelvis. You can find this spot between your ankle bone and Achilles tendon.
5
Step Five
Press and rub these spots in a circular motion. It should feel sore or tender but not painful. Remove pressure when you feel a contraction. Continue with the acupressure after the contraction has subsided.
6
Step Six
Repeat applying pressure to these spots. You can repeat up to six cycles per time. Apply less pressure if it becomes painful.
7
Step Seven
Use these same techniques in the labor room. They can help ease your labor pains.
Instructions
Difficulty: Moderately Easy
1
Step One
Push on the hoku spot which can be found on the top of your hand. It is located in the webbing between your forefinger and your thumb. Massage this area at an angle to stimulate contractions. It may feel slightly tender in this area. This affects the large intestine which surrounds a portion of the uterus.
2
Step Two
Rub the area called spleen 6 for one minute. To find this area, place four fingers above your ankle bone on the inside of your ankle. Applying pressure to this point helps ripen the cervix and strengthen weak contractions.
3
Step Three
Find the bladder 32 spot by tracing one finger width above the buttocks crease. You should feel a small indentation at this point. Massage this point for one minute.
4
Step Four
Apply pressure to BL60 to help the baby descend toward the pelvis. You can find this spot between your ankle bone and Achilles tendon.
5
Step Five
Press and rub these spots in a circular motion. It should feel sore or tender but not painful. Remove pressure when you feel a contraction. Continue with the acupressure after the contraction has subsided.
6
Step Six
Repeat applying pressure to these spots. You can repeat up to six cycles per time. Apply less pressure if it becomes painful.
7
Step Seven
Use these same techniques in the labor room. They can help ease your labor pains.
Info on Natural Labor Induction - for the curious
Here are some of the most common methods women try to induce labor naturally from Natural Ways to Induce Labor
Sexual intercourse - This works in two ways to induce labor. First, female orgasm can bring on contractions. Second, semen contains prostaglandins. Prostaglandins work to help ripe and soften the cervix.
Nipple stimulation - Stimulating the nipples triggers the production of natural oxytocin. Oxytocin contracts the uterus.
Accupressure - Accupressure may be helpful in inducing labor. Some pressure points you can try are the roof of your mouth, the webbing of your fingers between your pointer finger and thumb, and above the ankle about four fingerspaces above is a pressure point.
Stripping the membranes - This can only be done by a health care provider. Your doctor or midwife will seperate the bag of waters from your cervix and this is thought to help encourage labor to start.
Raspberry Leaf Tea - Rasberry leaf tea is not actually known for it's labor inducing properties, but it is believed to be helpful in toning the uterus and helping with labor.
Cinnamin stick tea - Take cinnamin sticks and boil them into a tea and drink. It actually tastes good so even if it doesn't bring on labor it may help you to relax.
Evening primrose oil - Evening primrose oil comes in small capsules similar to vitamin E. It is believed to help soften and ripen the cervix.
Walking - Walking may help to get baby to drop into proper position.
Visualization/relaxation - Relaxation can help with labor induction. Try doing relaxation exercisers. They are also good practice for when labor actually begins.
Pineapple, cumin tea, eggplant parmesan, and spicy foods - are another thing you can try.
Sexual intercourse - This works in two ways to induce labor. First, female orgasm can bring on contractions. Second, semen contains prostaglandins. Prostaglandins work to help ripe and soften the cervix.
Nipple stimulation - Stimulating the nipples triggers the production of natural oxytocin. Oxytocin contracts the uterus.
Accupressure - Accupressure may be helpful in inducing labor. Some pressure points you can try are the roof of your mouth, the webbing of your fingers between your pointer finger and thumb, and above the ankle about four fingerspaces above is a pressure point.
Stripping the membranes - This can only be done by a health care provider. Your doctor or midwife will seperate the bag of waters from your cervix and this is thought to help encourage labor to start.
Raspberry Leaf Tea - Rasberry leaf tea is not actually known for it's labor inducing properties, but it is believed to be helpful in toning the uterus and helping with labor.
Cinnamin stick tea - Take cinnamin sticks and boil them into a tea and drink. It actually tastes good so even if it doesn't bring on labor it may help you to relax.
Evening primrose oil - Evening primrose oil comes in small capsules similar to vitamin E. It is believed to help soften and ripen the cervix.
Walking - Walking may help to get baby to drop into proper position.
Visualization/relaxation - Relaxation can help with labor induction. Try doing relaxation exercisers. They are also good practice for when labor actually begins.
Pineapple, cumin tea, eggplant parmesan, and spicy foods - are another thing you can try.
Projects
Hi Little Guy,
Your grandmother and I are occupying ourselves with various little projects. We took Fichu and Rex to the dog park, went to breakfast, and did a little grocery shopping. She got a "nesting" (read: cleaning) urge so she's in the kitchen lemon scenting. I'm avoiding the kitchen because the smell gives me a headache. I'm particularly sickened by smells these last two days. I've never heard of that being a sign of impending labor, but I am familiar with that being true for women who are actually in labor. I wish I were. So, I tried the treadmill. Yuck. I'm punchy. I'm easily annoyed. I'm giving your dad too hard a time to get through this case because it's taking longer than he thought it would and I have the irrational idea that you can't come until he's finished. That's silly, of course. I'm not usually unreasonable; I suppose I could chalk it up to horomones, but that's not helpful because it doesn't make me any more fun to be around. I wonder what my being like this feels like to you inside me.
Your grandmother and I are occupying ourselves with various little projects. We took Fichu and Rex to the dog park, went to breakfast, and did a little grocery shopping. She got a "nesting" (read: cleaning) urge so she's in the kitchen lemon scenting. I'm avoiding the kitchen because the smell gives me a headache. I'm particularly sickened by smells these last two days. I've never heard of that being a sign of impending labor, but I am familiar with that being true for women who are actually in labor. I wish I were. So, I tried the treadmill. Yuck. I'm punchy. I'm easily annoyed. I'm giving your dad too hard a time to get through this case because it's taking longer than he thought it would and I have the irrational idea that you can't come until he's finished. That's silly, of course. I'm not usually unreasonable; I suppose I could chalk it up to horomones, but that's not helpful because it doesn't make me any more fun to be around. I wonder what my being like this feels like to you inside me.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Hi
Hi Kiddo,
Feb. 1 has come and gone, or it will have gone in 35 minutes. You seem comfortable and are fairly active. I'm getting anxious to meet you, so I do wish you'd come. Now, in addition to spicy foods, red rasberry leaf tea and that tincture, there's evening primrose oil. I'm not going to post the gory details because there are some things a kid just doesn't need to know about his mother, but for anyone who's 36 weeks along or later, I recommend you check out this link.
I spent the afternoon with your grandmother wandering around Carr Mill Mall and trying to be distracted from the obvious goal of going into LABOR!!! Your dad, meanwhile, is fighting chronic tension in his neck and back and even struggling with migraines; he has one case left to transfer and hopes that three hours of work will finish it out tomorrow. I'm so hopeful that he's right. We're both ready enough, though, so come when you can and know that we are really exciting about meeting you.
Love, Mom
Feb. 1 has come and gone, or it will have gone in 35 minutes. You seem comfortable and are fairly active. I'm getting anxious to meet you, so I do wish you'd come. Now, in addition to spicy foods, red rasberry leaf tea and that tincture, there's evening primrose oil. I'm not going to post the gory details because there are some things a kid just doesn't need to know about his mother, but for anyone who's 36 weeks along or later, I recommend you check out this link.
I spent the afternoon with your grandmother wandering around Carr Mill Mall and trying to be distracted from the obvious goal of going into LABOR!!! Your dad, meanwhile, is fighting chronic tension in his neck and back and even struggling with migraines; he has one case left to transfer and hopes that three hours of work will finish it out tomorrow. I'm so hopeful that he's right. We're both ready enough, though, so come when you can and know that we are really exciting about meeting you.
Love, Mom
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