Since I never finished Thanksgiving parts 5, 6 or 7, I thought I'd end the year in gratitude.
I am thankful
-for my family, by which I mean the family I came from and Dean's family. Now that we have Amelia I feel like both families really are "our" families. I am thankful for everyone who loves Amelia so much and spent so much QT with her over our vacation while Dean and I did such things as go on our first post-baby date, walk on the beach, read, and eat dinner at the same time!
-for my mother and Luli, who have each agreed to come stay with us once a month to babysit when my new semester begins. It makes me so happy that A can be taken care of by her grandmothers (and sometimes grandfathers) even though we live so far apart.
-for Dean's and my own flexible jobs, which will allow us to work/teach from home twice a month to cover the other days A will need care
-for the rainforest playmat that is currently entertaining A while I write
-for the breastpump, which I also sort of hate, but I am thankful for the freedom it gives me to both feed my baby breastmilk AND occasionally leave her for more than 3 hours
-for my wonderful friends. Even though I rarely get to see most of them, I am so thankful to know such smart and capable women.
-for yoga
-for this blog--it is a fun space to think, record, and write. And I am thankful for my readers! I am always a bit surprised when I realize that people actually read what I write. I am sorry my posts are so sporadic lately. (Blame it on little A.) And I am thankful for my little blogging community, which are some of the best mommy friends I have.
-that, despite all of the uncertainty about the future, I have a happy and healthy little family here in our cozy rented townhouse in DC, where we will make pizza for dinner and continue our tradition of going to bed well before midnight on New Year's Eve!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Time
A recent post on Beyond Friendship Gate prompted me to reflect on how motherhood has affected my creative life.
Being a mother is definitely getting easier. Over our long Christmas vacation (in which we drove over a thousand miles), we discovered that swaddling is the key to getting Amelia to nap. At this moment she has been napping for almost two hours (so she will almost certainly wake up before I finish this post). Still, sometimes I feel just like Caroline: when I have time, I don't know what to do with it.
I used the first part of A's nap to do a little yoga. Then I ate an early lunch. Then I read for a bit and opened some Word documents, trying to get into a poem. Perhaps because I forgot to put on any music, I just couldn't get going. Part of it is that I sort of feel finished with my thesis. I am, theoretically, trying to turn it into a book. However, I am not sure I am still in the same "place" anymore. Since I wrote the poems for my thesis, I have been through the greater part of a pregnancy and the first 12 weeks with a baby. I have a few new ideas for poems that don't seem to fit into the content of my thesis.
So, I looked around the internet for awhile, toying with the idea of just sending the thesis off as a manuscript now. I don't have enough pages to do that, really. I could send it off as a chapbook. I don't know.
The problem with time as a mother at home is that you never know. I always did my best writing when I knew I had at least a couple of hours to work. Even if I didn't work the whole time, having the time there was key. Now in hindsight I know that if I had sat down the moment A went to sleep I would have had at least 2 hours to write. Sigh.
And now I am kind of obsessed with the idea that she is going to wake up any second.
Oh well. Maybe I should just use the little time I have left to try to work on something...
Being a mother is definitely getting easier. Over our long Christmas vacation (in which we drove over a thousand miles), we discovered that swaddling is the key to getting Amelia to nap. At this moment she has been napping for almost two hours (so she will almost certainly wake up before I finish this post). Still, sometimes I feel just like Caroline: when I have time, I don't know what to do with it.
I used the first part of A's nap to do a little yoga. Then I ate an early lunch. Then I read for a bit and opened some Word documents, trying to get into a poem. Perhaps because I forgot to put on any music, I just couldn't get going. Part of it is that I sort of feel finished with my thesis. I am, theoretically, trying to turn it into a book. However, I am not sure I am still in the same "place" anymore. Since I wrote the poems for my thesis, I have been through the greater part of a pregnancy and the first 12 weeks with a baby. I have a few new ideas for poems that don't seem to fit into the content of my thesis.
So, I looked around the internet for awhile, toying with the idea of just sending the thesis off as a manuscript now. I don't have enough pages to do that, really. I could send it off as a chapbook. I don't know.
The problem with time as a mother at home is that you never know. I always did my best writing when I knew I had at least a couple of hours to work. Even if I didn't work the whole time, having the time there was key. Now in hindsight I know that if I had sat down the moment A went to sleep I would have had at least 2 hours to write. Sigh.
And now I am kind of obsessed with the idea that she is going to wake up any second.
Oh well. Maybe I should just use the little time I have left to try to work on something...
Sunday, December 20, 2009
White Christmas
Well, we survived the "Blizzard of 2009!" The news stations were calling it that the night before a single snowflake fell, but despite my skepticism, their predictions of over 15 inches of snow came true. Our last official measurement was a little over 19. It'll still be a white Christmas here, but we are headed down to NC tomorrow for Christmas! We are both excited to see family, as well as to take advantage of everyone who wants to hold little A so we can rest. I have big plans for us getting out and about by ourselves once a day! That said, we have had a great couple of snowdays with Amelia. We are really getting to know her. She is a funny bear. She gets very excited at bath time--she anticipates it when Dean takes her up to get ready for the bath. And when she wakes up, she smiles and laughs when she sees us. We can't wait for everyone to meet her!
Damn this has been a great class
So this email was in my inbox this morning, sent by one of the students to our coursemail address:
Hey everyone hope you have a great holiday season. Its been a lot of fun chillin with all of you bros. If any of you need anything my number is ***-***-****. Hope all of you get smashed on new years. Damn this has been a great class. Love all of you...
-Jason
This is amusing. Also a little frustrating--how many times did I explain its is possessive and it's=it is?
It's also kind of touching. I mean we're talking about freshman comp here, a required course that's not exactly everyone's idea of a good time. Perhaps this student was up late celebrating the fact that U-Md's last day of finals was cancelled due to the snow? Anyway, I'll take whatever good feedback I can get. Maybe I should forward the email to Agnes...
P.S. You might notice from the time stamp on this post that I am up early: Amelia slept from 9pm-5am!!! Yes, that is EIGHT FULL HOURS!!! But after I fed her at 5:00 I was so happy that I couldn't go back to sleep.
Hey everyone hope you have a great holiday season. Its been a lot of fun chillin with all of you bros. If any of you need anything my number is ***-***-****. Hope all of you get smashed on new years. Damn this has been a great class. Love all of you...
-Jason
This is amusing. Also a little frustrating--how many times did I explain its is possessive and it's=it is?
It's also kind of touching. I mean we're talking about freshman comp here, a required course that's not exactly everyone's idea of a good time. Perhaps this student was up late celebrating the fact that U-Md's last day of finals was cancelled due to the snow? Anyway, I'll take whatever good feedback I can get. Maybe I should forward the email to Agnes...
P.S. You might notice from the time stamp on this post that I am up early: Amelia slept from 9pm-5am!!! Yes, that is EIGHT FULL HOURS!!! But after I fed her at 5:00 I was so happy that I couldn't go back to sleep.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Finally. Finished. Grading.
Once again, thank God for the Moby Wrap. Now I am going to stuff diapers. Maybe soon, I will find time and energy to write some of the blog entries I have been scribbling notes for on scraps of paper.
(Here's a sneak peak: "Chocolate chip cookies--addiction." "Cardiologist." "Pre, post-natal, Itsy Bitsy Yoga.")
(Here's a sneak peak: "Chocolate chip cookies--addiction." "Cardiologist." "Pre, post-natal, Itsy Bitsy Yoga.")
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
"I am 9 weeks, going on 10 weeks..."
First, here are some pictures for Sophie, sweet girl, who likes to get up and look at the baby every morning.
Amelia loves the Rainforest play mat--
but she did not like this hat.
And I love the snowsuit pictures.
Amelia is beginning her second hour of sleeping in the Moby Wrap. For some reason she has been very fussy and sleepy today. This is not one of Caroline's Wonder Weeks. Who knows? Maybe she misses her grandmother. Luckily her other grandmother is coming on Sunday.
Having a baby here in DC has taught me that humans are meant to live in small tribes. When I'm with Amelia and other people I have a lot more fun. No offense to Amelia. She is great. But let's be frank: she's not the best conversationalist. It's sometimes kind of lonely to be alone with her. It's more fun to watch her smile and try to laugh and wriggle around with someone else around. It's nice to be able to have someone to hold her while I do something other than hold her every once in awhile, too. I don't want much, just to be able to get up and pee, and maybe eat lunch...
I do miss the incredible freedom I used to have, and of course was totally ignorant of, before Amelia was born. I woke up this morning with all kinds of ideas for next semester. I got up to write them down and maybe work my gradebook a little, but didn't even get down the stairs before Amelia decided to forgo her last stretch of morning sleep, so that plan went down the drain. I've been feeding her or holding her all day. Somehow I did manage to cut up a butternut squash. It's my biggest accomplishment so far.
I was feeling kind of sorry for myself until I read this op-ed on poverty in last Sunday's Washington Post while I finally ate something. I am still not in the mental state to coherently comment on it. Although I did find the energy to write a three paragraph response to someone's question about getting a baby to take a pacifier on MOTH.
I've had a lot of time to think about why I feel like I need to get anything done anyway. If Amelia, who is less than 10 weeks old, wants to be fed and held all day and I do it, then I am already accomplishing an awful lot.
I disagree with the advice in all the parenting books, though, that you should just ignore all the housework. Well, the advice might be good, but I can't do it, and I've figured out why. Pre-baby, I was pretty much in charge of my own life. I got used to those long swaths of unstructured time in which I could work and write. Post-baby, not so much. The cleanliness of the house is something I can semi-control. A clean, neat house makes me feel calmer. We're not talking about a deep clean here. I am totally ignoring the state of the downstairs bathroom, which is where we spray the diapers. But I can keep the kitchen neat, and I can sweep while I am wearing the Moby Wrap.
In conclusion, little A is stirring, so I am sorry that I will be unable to revise this post. I think we will try to get out of the house and into the day. It's cold, but it is sunny.
Amelia loves the Rainforest play mat--
but she did not like this hat.
And I love the snowsuit pictures.
Amelia is beginning her second hour of sleeping in the Moby Wrap. For some reason she has been very fussy and sleepy today. This is not one of Caroline's Wonder Weeks. Who knows? Maybe she misses her grandmother. Luckily her other grandmother is coming on Sunday.
Having a baby here in DC has taught me that humans are meant to live in small tribes. When I'm with Amelia and other people I have a lot more fun. No offense to Amelia. She is great. But let's be frank: she's not the best conversationalist. It's sometimes kind of lonely to be alone with her. It's more fun to watch her smile and try to laugh and wriggle around with someone else around. It's nice to be able to have someone to hold her while I do something other than hold her every once in awhile, too. I don't want much, just to be able to get up and pee, and maybe eat lunch...
I do miss the incredible freedom I used to have, and of course was totally ignorant of, before Amelia was born. I woke up this morning with all kinds of ideas for next semester. I got up to write them down and maybe work my gradebook a little, but didn't even get down the stairs before Amelia decided to forgo her last stretch of morning sleep, so that plan went down the drain. I've been feeding her or holding her all day. Somehow I did manage to cut up a butternut squash. It's my biggest accomplishment so far.
I was feeling kind of sorry for myself until I read this op-ed on poverty in last Sunday's Washington Post while I finally ate something. I am still not in the mental state to coherently comment on it. Although I did find the energy to write a three paragraph response to someone's question about getting a baby to take a pacifier on MOTH.
I've had a lot of time to think about why I feel like I need to get anything done anyway. If Amelia, who is less than 10 weeks old, wants to be fed and held all day and I do it, then I am already accomplishing an awful lot.
I disagree with the advice in all the parenting books, though, that you should just ignore all the housework. Well, the advice might be good, but I can't do it, and I've figured out why. Pre-baby, I was pretty much in charge of my own life. I got used to those long swaths of unstructured time in which I could work and write. Post-baby, not so much. The cleanliness of the house is something I can semi-control. A clean, neat house makes me feel calmer. We're not talking about a deep clean here. I am totally ignoring the state of the downstairs bathroom, which is where we spray the diapers. But I can keep the kitchen neat, and I can sweep while I am wearing the Moby Wrap.
In conclusion, little A is stirring, so I am sorry that I will be unable to revise this post. I think we will try to get out of the house and into the day. It's cold, but it is sunny.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Monday, November 30, 2009
8 weeks
I composed "Thanksgiving Parts 5-7" in my head this morning after Amelia's 3:30 am feeding, but since I still had 23 papers to grade I did not let myself write it when I got up. As of 4:30 this afternoon, though, I am down to 17! Grading 6 papers on a day I am home alone with the small one is no small feat, if I do say so myself. AND I washed a load of diapers!
We've come a long way in 8 weeks...
We've come a long way in 8 weeks...
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Happy Thanksgiving! (Part 4)
Writing these posts has made me much more aware of the many things I am thankful for, so for today I thought I'd just list some randomly:
--Yoga! I just went to my first post-pregnancy yoga class. It made me very aware of my new/old body. For a brief moment, I actually missed my belly! I guess I really missed Amelia being with me all the time. She was much quieter back then. Anyway--I love yoga. It was great to be in a real yoga class again.
--I am thankful for our nice, soft bed, especially when it has clean sheets. And the fact that we get to sleep in it for so many uninterrupted hours.
--I am thankful for the Benetint crushed rose blossom potion that works as both lipstick and blush. Beautiful, smells like magic roses, a real time saver too.
--I am thankful for the way that Dean and now Amelia fill my life with music. I think have sung and danced more in the last seven weeks than I have in the rest of my whole life (and I was in the chorus for most of elementary and middle school, plus I took a lot of dance lessons).
-- I am thankful for the family that is on their way to see us, and the family that visited us last week, and the family we won't see at Thanksgiving but will see soon.
--I am thankful for the Maya Wrap. Amelia is stirring in it, so I have to go... Here's wishing everyone a day of laughter, peace and gratitude.
--Yoga! I just went to my first post-pregnancy yoga class. It made me very aware of my new/old body. For a brief moment, I actually missed my belly! I guess I really missed Amelia being with me all the time. She was much quieter back then. Anyway--I love yoga. It was great to be in a real yoga class again.
--I am thankful for our nice, soft bed, especially when it has clean sheets. And the fact that we get to sleep in it for so many uninterrupted hours.
--I am thankful for the Benetint crushed rose blossom potion that works as both lipstick and blush. Beautiful, smells like magic roses, a real time saver too.
--I am thankful for the way that Dean and now Amelia fill my life with music. I think have sung and danced more in the last seven weeks than I have in the rest of my whole life (and I was in the chorus for most of elementary and middle school, plus I took a lot of dance lessons).
-- I am thankful for the family that is on their way to see us, and the family that visited us last week, and the family we won't see at Thanksgiving but will see soon.
--I am thankful for the Maya Wrap. Amelia is stirring in it, so I have to go... Here's wishing everyone a day of laughter, peace and gratitude.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Thankfulness, Part 3
During spring semester of my sophomore year of college, I realized that Dean was in not one but two of my classes. I got a crush on his quiet, handsome self very quickly. I daydreamed about his intense eyes and very long hair. Soon, I got him to let me borrow his notes. (It was difficult because he said no one could read his messy handwriting, but I prevailed.) Later I followed him down the stairs of Greenlaw Hall and asked him to have lunch with me. We had pizza on a very rainy Monday. We shared an umbrella as we walked back to his apartment after lunch to study for our Spanish quiz. (Yes...study...)
Later Dean went to live in Spain for a year and we sent each other a lot of emails. I fell in love with his writing. He writes like Hemingway.
Dean and I have lived in four different places together. Together we have packed 4 moving vans, unpacked hundreds of boxes, adopted a cat, driven halfway across the country, climbed a variety of mountains, made a 5-hour trip twice in one day due to forgetting something very, very important, learned to make homemade pasta, swore we would never make homemade pasta again, paid off a college loan, obtained and left several jobs, survived terrible flus and one case of hives, watched all six seasons of The Sopranos in one summer, and cooked approximately 1,835 dinners. Oh, yeah--and we made Amelia. Our greatest accomplishment so far.
Dean makes me laugh, even when when I am grouchy and overwhelmed. Dean explains to Amelia the science behind yawning and makes up entertaining variations to "This Little Piggy." He has stayed home with Amelia while I have gone out to get a massage AND a pedicure. He has modified his work schedule while trying to accomplish the same amount of work so that I can go back to my own job. Dean is usually the one who remember to wash the diapers, and he is the Master of Swaddling. He is truly a partner in this parenting gig.
I am immensely grateful that he is my partner, husband, best friend, and one true love.
Later Dean went to live in Spain for a year and we sent each other a lot of emails. I fell in love with his writing. He writes like Hemingway.
Dean and I have lived in four different places together. Together we have packed 4 moving vans, unpacked hundreds of boxes, adopted a cat, driven halfway across the country, climbed a variety of mountains, made a 5-hour trip twice in one day due to forgetting something very, very important, learned to make homemade pasta, swore we would never make homemade pasta again, paid off a college loan, obtained and left several jobs, survived terrible flus and one case of hives, watched all six seasons of The Sopranos in one summer, and cooked approximately 1,835 dinners. Oh, yeah--and we made Amelia. Our greatest accomplishment so far.
Dean makes me laugh, even when when I am grouchy and overwhelmed. Dean explains to Amelia the science behind yawning and makes up entertaining variations to "This Little Piggy." He has stayed home with Amelia while I have gone out to get a massage AND a pedicure. He has modified his work schedule while trying to accomplish the same amount of work so that I can go back to my own job. Dean is usually the one who remember to wash the diapers, and he is the Master of Swaddling. He is truly a partner in this parenting gig.
I am immensely grateful that he is my partner, husband, best friend, and one true love.
A Week of Thankfulness, Part 2
I missed yesterday, so I need to do two today!
What I wanted to write yesterday was that I am thankful for my job. This is not only because going back to work has made me feel much more like myself again, giving me the chance to wear real clothes and think my own thoughts during the drive to work, but also because I actually really like what I do! We found out during Dean's stint at the law firm how important it is to love or at least like the job you go to every day (or in my case, 2 days a week). I really enjoy my students. I even like their newly-discovered intellectual indignation, pretty common to freshmen around this time of year, about grades and "institutional education." ("We want to learn for learning's sake, but the system won't let us!!!") I also like teaching writing, even freshman composition. It's fun and challenging to improve my lessons every semester.
Also, even though Dean and I wish we were closer to our families, in this economy we know we are lucky to have any job, especially jobs that allows us such flexibiilty to spend time with Amelia.
As a footnote to this, and a tangent to the real clothes I mentioned above, I am also thankful for my boots, which I bought last year. (Mine are green. They were on sale.) These are the best shoes ever. They feel lighter than flip flops but they keep my feet super warm. They are great for walking across campus in the rain.
Anyway, speaking of jobs, I need to grade some papers. If the day allows, I will post again later.
What I wanted to write yesterday was that I am thankful for my job. This is not only because going back to work has made me feel much more like myself again, giving me the chance to wear real clothes and think my own thoughts during the drive to work, but also because I actually really like what I do! We found out during Dean's stint at the law firm how important it is to love or at least like the job you go to every day (or in my case, 2 days a week). I really enjoy my students. I even like their newly-discovered intellectual indignation, pretty common to freshmen around this time of year, about grades and "institutional education." ("We want to learn for learning's sake, but the system won't let us!!!") I also like teaching writing, even freshman composition. It's fun and challenging to improve my lessons every semester.
Also, even though Dean and I wish we were closer to our families, in this economy we know we are lucky to have any job, especially jobs that allows us such flexibiilty to spend time with Amelia.
As a footnote to this, and a tangent to the real clothes I mentioned above, I am also thankful for my boots, which I bought last year. (Mine are green. They were on sale.) These are the best shoes ever. They feel lighter than flip flops but they keep my feet super warm. They are great for walking across campus in the rain.
Anyway, speaking of jobs, I need to grade some papers. If the day allows, I will post again later.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Also...
I am joining MPJ's "Just for Today" challenge. Every time I nurse, I think I could be reading a poem, either to myself or aloud to myself and little A. More on this subject soon.
A Week of Thankfulness
In honor of Thanksgiving and of my 31st birthday on Wednesday, I thought it would be nice to try to write each day a bit on thankfulness. During my hardest moments over the past 7 weeks--and 10 and a half months, for that matter--it has helped me to stop and list a few things I am thankful for. This has gotten me through more than one teary moment in the middle of the night when I thought I could not possibly wake up and feed you-know-who. Just considering for even a second how thankful I am to have the healthy, lovely Amelia here with us now made the sleeplessness and exhaustion suddenly bearable, even not so bad.
(Note that I am referring to sleeplessness in the past tense. Amelia has been sleeping in 6+ hour stretches for the past several nights, waking once to eat, and sleeping some more. This is because we began swaddling her again. Or, rather, Dean began swaddling her--he is the master of swaddling. It's wonderful. It also considerably cuts down the amount of grunting and writhing Amelia does while she sleeps. Of course I know her sleep habits will change and change again, but I am reveling in this while it lasts.)
So to begin, I am so very thankful for Amelia. I love her. She is a cuddly, squirmy, fascinating little person. After she eats, she throws back her head and cradles it one arm like some little diva tossing her hair back because she knows the paparazzi is watching. She makes baby farm animal noises in her sleep. When she wakes up, after her initial adorable grouchiness, she smiles at whoever is there, and she loves to rest in her pack and play and watch her black and white mobile spin around. She coos at it.
She is the very picture of good health, too, which I am extremely thankful for. She is already quite chubby.
Yea, Amelia! My life, though admittedly more complicated and less my own, is infinitely more interesting and more wonderful now that you are here.
(Note that I am referring to sleeplessness in the past tense. Amelia has been sleeping in 6+ hour stretches for the past several nights, waking once to eat, and sleeping some more. This is because we began swaddling her again. Or, rather, Dean began swaddling her--he is the master of swaddling. It's wonderful. It also considerably cuts down the amount of grunting and writhing Amelia does while she sleeps. Of course I know her sleep habits will change and change again, but I am reveling in this while it lasts.)
So to begin, I am so very thankful for Amelia. I love her. She is a cuddly, squirmy, fascinating little person. After she eats, she throws back her head and cradles it one arm like some little diva tossing her hair back because she knows the paparazzi is watching. She makes baby farm animal noises in her sleep. When she wakes up, after her initial adorable grouchiness, she smiles at whoever is there, and she loves to rest in her pack and play and watch her black and white mobile spin around. She coos at it.
She is the very picture of good health, too, which I am extremely thankful for. She is already quite chubby.
Yea, Amelia! My life, though admittedly more complicated and less my own, is infinitely more interesting and more wonderful now that you are here.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
Little Star
Six weeks old!
Amelia is definitely smiling at us from time to time, and she is trying hard to get her thumb in her mouth.
I have a new haircut, and we got a Moby Wrap.
In other news, I accidentally just Ferberized Amelia. I didn't mean too; it's just that she cried for over an hour and clearly needed to sleep. I fed her, rocked, sang, swaddled, walked, and started over from square one. So I put her in her Pack & Play just to take a break. The crying continued, then suddenly stopped. She is still asleep. Ahh, silence.
Luck and Love
Soon after Dean and I started dating, he invited me over to his aunt Linda's house for dinner. I remember walking in to smiles, hugs, and room after room of beautiful, colorful art of all kinds: paintings, blankets, pottery, sculpture. Linda and Dean's uncle Harry had The Pizza Tapes playing, and we sipped wine, talked and laughed as Harry made dinner. Later on, I went to see Dean at his parents' house over winter break. Here was another house filled with incredible art, fascinating conversation, great music and great food. During both visits, I remember thinking how happy I would be if my life were filled with as much art and music, beauty and joy.
Little did I know how lucky I would be...
I was remembering these things this morning because Luli and her sister Linda, as well as numerous other women in the NC Triad area, have a Whimsical Women show coming up this weekend, and they've been featured the blog Triad Smarty Pants! Check it out. And if you're in the area, go to the show! You'll be sure to find a little taste of what I felt on those first two visits with Dean's family.
Little did I know how lucky I would be...
I was remembering these things this morning because Luli and her sister Linda, as well as numerous other women in the NC Triad area, have a Whimsical Women show coming up this weekend, and they've been featured the blog Triad Smarty Pants! Check it out. And if you're in the area, go to the show! You'll be sure to find a little taste of what I felt on those first two visits with Dean's family.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Cat, Mouse, Milk
I am writing this blog entry at my upstairs desk, at which I haven't sat for months and months. This special occasion is due to the fact that Suki finally caught the mouse that has been lurking under our sink. I opened the cabinet doors when I noticed her crouching there, and a few minutes later, I heard a crash, and looked up to see Suki run by with the mouse in her mouth. But she can't just kill it. No. She is carrying it all around, dropping it, letting it run away a little bit, and re-catching it. It's injured, so it can't get far. It's a horrifying scene. Plus now I feel the downstairs is going to have to be mopped with Clorox.
Suki's catching of the mouse interrupted Amelia's nap in her Pack and Play, which provided free and quiet time I was using to actually write poems. !!! This is big news. I haven't sat down to write since a couple of weeks before Amelia was born. It was great. I revisited some stuff I was working on through the spring and summer to find that some of it has potential! And I started something brand new, which is very energizing.
In the meantime I thought I would write here since it's been awhile since I've said anything of substance on the blog. Two words: time and tired. Not only is it hard to find the time to sit down and write, when I do have a few minutes during naptime or when Dean is home and caring for Amelia, I feel so brain dead I can't put together a coherent sentence.
So, here's going on with us. Amelia is much less fussy during the day than she was for a week or so. We are waiting excitedly for her to really, truly smile at us. Dean's thinks she smiled for real yesterday morning but it's hard to know for sure. I am trying to play with her during the day, but she seems to be sleeping more for the last couple of days. She is still sleeping pretty well at night, going for 3 or 4 or stretches most of the time. Tuesday night, she slept for about 6 hours, but that stretch was tragically wasted due to me waking up once with a horrible stomach ache and then later with a milk overflow situation. I don't feel I am using the word "tragically" hyperbolically, either.
Anyway, speaking of breastmilk, I have been trying to pump some milk since I am going back to teach on Tuesday, believe it or not, and I will leave milk so Dean can feed Amelia while I am gone. It's a bit difficult to know when and how much to pump. Last might I did it right before Amelia woke up hungry after a nap. I fed her a little, but we had to wait for Dean to come home to give her the bottle I just pumped. (I read I am not supposed to give her a bottle since she already associates me with an alternate method of obtaining her food.) Amelia seems to take the bottle fine, so I am not worried about her eating while I am gone, but I am a little worried about myself, not being able to feed her or to pump for almost 5 hours while I travel to school, teach and come home. There are only 15 minutes between my classes, which is probably enough time to pump, but there is no where to go to do it. My office is in another building, plus I share it with three other people. I guess I can lock myself in a bathroom stall during the break, but that is going to be noticeable to the many other women who use the bathroom at that time. Maybe there is a quieter, less-used restroom on the upper floor of the building. We'll see.
I've also had a couple of adventures in breastfeeding in public. Once was right before Dean went back to work. We took some sandwiches to the park to eat. There were some young boys, maybe 7-9 years old, playing there, running all around with plastic guns. After Dean and I finished eating, Amelia was hungry, so I fed her. Everything was covered by both a scarf and my windbreaker, but I suddenly noticed the boys had become very interested in the park bench next to ours. I looked directly over at them to show them I was on to their spy tactics. It was strange to have an audience.
The second time I tried to feed Amelia in public was in my doctor's office's very crowded waiting area. I was holding the scarf all wrong and got flustered by the silence in the room, a silence that was being broken only by Amelia's cries and grunts as she tried to latch on. I am pretty sure my breasts were on display for everyone there. Finally Marla, Dr. Footer's wife/receptionist/nurse, said I could go back to this big soft chair in one of the exam rooms "where I might be more comfortable." So I did.
It's funny; breastfeeding is totally natural and I had imagined myself being cool and composed when Amelia needed to eat while we were out, but I got pretty flustered on both of these occasions. The third time I fed her in public, though, I did a better job. This was last weekend at Dean's office mate's wedding. It helped to have another mother breastfeeding at the next table. Also, I got the hang of the scarf.
Parenthetically, Amelia's first wedding happened to be a same-sex wedding. DC will recognize gay marriages from other states, so Dean's office mate and her partner went to Connecticut to be officially married, then had their ceremony here a few days later. It was very beautiful. Everyone was so happy for the couple, and their families gave extremely touching toasts that showed how supportive they were.
And, it was really fun for Dean and I to be out in public. We enjoyed talking to Dean's co-workers and the other guests and showing off the baby. Dean's office mate had knitted Amelia a little bear outfit, which she was wearing, so Amelia was a great conversation piece. And of course everyone thought she was beautiful.
In the meantime, I just took a break to change and feed the awake Amelia. We tried to go downstairs, but found that the mouse is still alive. I am typing with one hand while A finishes lunch. When she finishes, we might have to brave the wind and rain to escape the carnage.
Suki's catching of the mouse interrupted Amelia's nap in her Pack and Play, which provided free and quiet time I was using to actually write poems. !!! This is big news. I haven't sat down to write since a couple of weeks before Amelia was born. It was great. I revisited some stuff I was working on through the spring and summer to find that some of it has potential! And I started something brand new, which is very energizing.
In the meantime I thought I would write here since it's been awhile since I've said anything of substance on the blog. Two words: time and tired. Not only is it hard to find the time to sit down and write, when I do have a few minutes during naptime or when Dean is home and caring for Amelia, I feel so brain dead I can't put together a coherent sentence.
So, here's going on with us. Amelia is much less fussy during the day than she was for a week or so. We are waiting excitedly for her to really, truly smile at us. Dean's thinks she smiled for real yesterday morning but it's hard to know for sure. I am trying to play with her during the day, but she seems to be sleeping more for the last couple of days. She is still sleeping pretty well at night, going for 3 or 4 or stretches most of the time. Tuesday night, she slept for about 6 hours, but that stretch was tragically wasted due to me waking up once with a horrible stomach ache and then later with a milk overflow situation. I don't feel I am using the word "tragically" hyperbolically, either.
Anyway, speaking of breastmilk, I have been trying to pump some milk since I am going back to teach on Tuesday, believe it or not, and I will leave milk so Dean can feed Amelia while I am gone. It's a bit difficult to know when and how much to pump. Last might I did it right before Amelia woke up hungry after a nap. I fed her a little, but we had to wait for Dean to come home to give her the bottle I just pumped. (I read I am not supposed to give her a bottle since she already associates me with an alternate method of obtaining her food.) Amelia seems to take the bottle fine, so I am not worried about her eating while I am gone, but I am a little worried about myself, not being able to feed her or to pump for almost 5 hours while I travel to school, teach and come home. There are only 15 minutes between my classes, which is probably enough time to pump, but there is no where to go to do it. My office is in another building, plus I share it with three other people. I guess I can lock myself in a bathroom stall during the break, but that is going to be noticeable to the many other women who use the bathroom at that time. Maybe there is a quieter, less-used restroom on the upper floor of the building. We'll see.
I've also had a couple of adventures in breastfeeding in public. Once was right before Dean went back to work. We took some sandwiches to the park to eat. There were some young boys, maybe 7-9 years old, playing there, running all around with plastic guns. After Dean and I finished eating, Amelia was hungry, so I fed her. Everything was covered by both a scarf and my windbreaker, but I suddenly noticed the boys had become very interested in the park bench next to ours. I looked directly over at them to show them I was on to their spy tactics. It was strange to have an audience.
The second time I tried to feed Amelia in public was in my doctor's office's very crowded waiting area. I was holding the scarf all wrong and got flustered by the silence in the room, a silence that was being broken only by Amelia's cries and grunts as she tried to latch on. I am pretty sure my breasts were on display for everyone there. Finally Marla, Dr. Footer's wife/receptionist/nurse, said I could go back to this big soft chair in one of the exam rooms "where I might be more comfortable." So I did.
It's funny; breastfeeding is totally natural and I had imagined myself being cool and composed when Amelia needed to eat while we were out, but I got pretty flustered on both of these occasions. The third time I fed her in public, though, I did a better job. This was last weekend at Dean's office mate's wedding. It helped to have another mother breastfeeding at the next table. Also, I got the hang of the scarf.
Parenthetically, Amelia's first wedding happened to be a same-sex wedding. DC will recognize gay marriages from other states, so Dean's office mate and her partner went to Connecticut to be officially married, then had their ceremony here a few days later. It was very beautiful. Everyone was so happy for the couple, and their families gave extremely touching toasts that showed how supportive they were.
And, it was really fun for Dean and I to be out in public. We enjoyed talking to Dean's co-workers and the other guests and showing off the baby. Dean's office mate had knitted Amelia a little bear outfit, which she was wearing, so Amelia was a great conversation piece. And of course everyone thought she was beautiful.
In the meantime, I just took a break to change and feed the awake Amelia. We tried to go downstairs, but found that the mouse is still alive. I am typing with one hand while A finishes lunch. When she finishes, we might have to brave the wind and rain to escape the carnage.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
From my rarely-checked email inbox yesterday...
Dear Kimberly,
Congratulations!
Judge Sholeh Wolpé has selected your poem "On Rereading Leaves of Grass" for 2nd Prize in the 2009 Two Review Poetry Contest.
We would like to publish your poem in the upcoming 2010 issue of Two Review. You will receive two copies of the journal, and in addition, a check for $50 from Cold Press Publishing when the issue is released. Please send us the poem in MS Word format when it's convenient for you.
Thank you so much for participating in this year's contest!
Sincerely,
Jeremy
Congratulations!
Judge Sholeh Wolpé has selected your poem "On Rereading Leaves of Grass" for 2nd Prize in the 2009 Two Review Poetry Contest.
We would like to publish your poem in the upcoming 2010 issue of Two Review. You will receive two copies of the journal, and in addition, a check for $50 from Cold Press Publishing when the issue is released. Please send us the poem in MS Word format when it's convenient for you.
Thank you so much for participating in this year's contest!
Sincerely,
Jeremy
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Poetry Wednesday
This is the poem "Otherwise" by Jane Kenyon:
I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.
At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.
Jane Kenyon was one of the first poets I read when I started to like poetry. Her poems are often simple and memorable. She died of cancer, and this poem, I think, speaks to her battle with her disease, but it is also bigger than that.
I've always liked this poem, yet I've always been a bit perplexed by its simplicity. Today, though, as I nursed, sang to, and rocked Amelia, as I changed her diaper and nursed, sang and rocked again, I had its refrain in my head. I felt like I came to a new understanding of the poem.
These days of babytending are bittersweet: difficult, perplexing, but also filled with odd moments of surprise, delight, and joy. The time since Amelia was born has had the odd quality of seeming to pass both very slowly and incredible quickly. She will be one month old tomorrow. One day it will be otherwise.
I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.
At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.
Jane Kenyon was one of the first poets I read when I started to like poetry. Her poems are often simple and memorable. She died of cancer, and this poem, I think, speaks to her battle with her disease, but it is also bigger than that.
I've always liked this poem, yet I've always been a bit perplexed by its simplicity. Today, though, as I nursed, sang to, and rocked Amelia, as I changed her diaper and nursed, sang and rocked again, I had its refrain in my head. I felt like I came to a new understanding of the poem.
These days of babytending are bittersweet: difficult, perplexing, but also filled with odd moments of surprise, delight, and joy. The time since Amelia was born has had the odd quality of seeming to pass both very slowly and incredible quickly. She will be one month old tomorrow. One day it will be otherwise.
Question.
Or, Questionair returns to its roots.
For all you other mommies out there: how much did your new babies cry? (I am starting to feel like Amelia cries all the time!!! This is an exageration, of course, but she does cry a lot. I am starting to wonder what is normal.)
You can post your answer in the comments box... thank you!
For all you other mommies out there: how much did your new babies cry? (I am starting to feel like Amelia cries all the time!!! This is an exageration, of course, but she does cry a lot. I am starting to wonder what is normal.)
You can post your answer in the comments box... thank you!
Sunday, November 1, 2009
"Good times, bad times...
you know we've had our sha-ar-re..."
These lyrics have been in my head recently. (Is the real song in first person singular? Hmm.) Anyway, these lines describe our last few weeks very well. A few weeks before Amelia was born, I was talking to my friend Corrie on the phone, telling her about my mood swings: sometimes I was very happy, sometimes in bleak despair. She said she thought maybe that was what having kids was like in general, some really good times, some really bad ones. Based on four weeks with Amelia, I'd say that sounds about right. Sometimes I am incredibly delighted by her; other times, such as when she has been screaming for an hour, I look at her and think, "What have we done?"I guess this is normal. In general, it's a good spiritual lesson for me about living in the moment, enjoying the good times and breathing though the bad times.
I've always been a worrier, and recently I've been remembering something I used to do when I was a little girl. I would create a mental checklist of all the different categories of my life: school, home, friends. I would think through all of the recent events in these categories and consider whether they were all problem-free. If they were, I could relax and be happy. If they weren't, I would worry until whatever wasn't "perfect" was fixed. For example, one Christmas vacation--I think it was in third grade--I had an overdue library book. Actually the librarian said it was overdue; I thought I had turned it in. So I thought maybe it was lost. I hemmed and hawed in my mind about the book all of Christmas break. Even as I opened presents, the book was in the back of my mind. When I went back to school, the book had turned up. So all the worry was for naught.
Obviously there is a lesson here. I am getting a little better about saying, this too shall pass, as opposed to being constantly worried about the next crying fit or how much Amelia will sleep during the coming night. Currently Amelia is sleeping in the carrier and Suki is on my lap. I'll see how far I can use this quiet time to write about our last couple of weeks!
So yesterday, Amelia began wearing her cloth diapers:
We thought they were too big but Dean decided just to put one on her and they actually fit pretty well! She seems to like them. They are much softer than the disposable ones. We are figuring out our system of rinsing and storing them until they are washed. The hose that attaches to the toilet is key in this process. There has only been a little random spraying of freezing cold water.
As we tried out the diapers, Suki discovered the diaper drawer:
Second, yesterday was of course Halloween. Amelia wore her Halloween pajamas that Bubbles sent her. She loved them.
We were going to take her trick or treating, but she decided to be a colicky baby for Halloween. (It was a good choice: that is, obviously, the scariest thing she could possibly be.) She cried from about 5-8 last night. I think it was because we took her on a long walk right before 5 and it messed up her normal nap schedule. By 5:30, she was clearly very tired but wouldn't let herself drop off to sleep. We rocked, swaddled, and sang, but she didn't settle down till after 8pm, when I tried to feed her again. She nursed furiously for about 3 minutes and fell asleep. Luckily she then slept well for the rest of the night, waking up as usual every 3 hours or so to eat but going back to sleep soon after.
We plan to be more careful about her afternoon nap today.
Also, Amelia likes to read:
She is quite a thinker.
In general, Dean and I have just been hanging out and getting to know our baby. We are excited about the coming weeks, in which she might smile at us! Also, the baby week-by-week books says she might sleep for 6 hours at a time...
Before Amelia's birth, I kept thinking about the metaphor of the roller coaster. Now that she is here, I realize we are still on the ride--and for better and for worse, we are never getting off! For now, we are all gradually settling in to our new family and learning how to enjoy the ride.
These lyrics have been in my head recently. (Is the real song in first person singular? Hmm.) Anyway, these lines describe our last few weeks very well. A few weeks before Amelia was born, I was talking to my friend Corrie on the phone, telling her about my mood swings: sometimes I was very happy, sometimes in bleak despair. She said she thought maybe that was what having kids was like in general, some really good times, some really bad ones. Based on four weeks with Amelia, I'd say that sounds about right. Sometimes I am incredibly delighted by her; other times, such as when she has been screaming for an hour, I look at her and think, "What have we done?"I guess this is normal. In general, it's a good spiritual lesson for me about living in the moment, enjoying the good times and breathing though the bad times.
I've always been a worrier, and recently I've been remembering something I used to do when I was a little girl. I would create a mental checklist of all the different categories of my life: school, home, friends. I would think through all of the recent events in these categories and consider whether they were all problem-free. If they were, I could relax and be happy. If they weren't, I would worry until whatever wasn't "perfect" was fixed. For example, one Christmas vacation--I think it was in third grade--I had an overdue library book. Actually the librarian said it was overdue; I thought I had turned it in. So I thought maybe it was lost. I hemmed and hawed in my mind about the book all of Christmas break. Even as I opened presents, the book was in the back of my mind. When I went back to school, the book had turned up. So all the worry was for naught.
Obviously there is a lesson here. I am getting a little better about saying, this too shall pass, as opposed to being constantly worried about the next crying fit or how much Amelia will sleep during the coming night. Currently Amelia is sleeping in the carrier and Suki is on my lap. I'll see how far I can use this quiet time to write about our last couple of weeks!
So yesterday, Amelia began wearing her cloth diapers:
We thought they were too big but Dean decided just to put one on her and they actually fit pretty well! She seems to like them. They are much softer than the disposable ones. We are figuring out our system of rinsing and storing them until they are washed. The hose that attaches to the toilet is key in this process. There has only been a little random spraying of freezing cold water.
As we tried out the diapers, Suki discovered the diaper drawer:
Second, yesterday was of course Halloween. Amelia wore her Halloween pajamas that Bubbles sent her. She loved them.
We were going to take her trick or treating, but she decided to be a colicky baby for Halloween. (It was a good choice: that is, obviously, the scariest thing she could possibly be.) She cried from about 5-8 last night. I think it was because we took her on a long walk right before 5 and it messed up her normal nap schedule. By 5:30, she was clearly very tired but wouldn't let herself drop off to sleep. We rocked, swaddled, and sang, but she didn't settle down till after 8pm, when I tried to feed her again. She nursed furiously for about 3 minutes and fell asleep. Luckily she then slept well for the rest of the night, waking up as usual every 3 hours or so to eat but going back to sleep soon after.
We plan to be more careful about her afternoon nap today.
Also, Amelia likes to read:
She is quite a thinker.
In general, Dean and I have just been hanging out and getting to know our baby. We are excited about the coming weeks, in which she might smile at us! Also, the baby week-by-week books says she might sleep for 6 hours at a time...
Before Amelia's birth, I kept thinking about the metaphor of the roller coaster. Now that she is here, I realize we are still on the ride--and for better and for worse, we are never getting off! For now, we are all gradually settling in to our new family and learning how to enjoy the ride.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Baby Story, Part 3
While I was pregnant, when we talked about when the baby would come, Dean would often ask how long we would stay in the hospital. I would say, "I think you stay two days." Neither one of us thought the hospital sounded like a fun place to stay, and we would wonder if we could get out in less time. Then REAL life happened.
Sometime soon after I had been wheeled into the delivery room, Dr. Footer told me after the birth I would be moved to the "High Risk Maternity Ward." This was because the magnesium, he said, "might make you a little out of it."
Once Amelia was born and had nursed a tiny bit, the nurses started asking if we wanted them to take her to the nursery so we could rest. Beforehand, I had thought I would never let them take my baby away from me right after she was born. But strapped to three IV tubes and a blood pressure cuff, totally exhausted, I was suggestible. Everyone seemed to think it would be best to let her go, and they promised to bring her back when she was ready to nurse again. In the meantime Dr. Footer decided he didn't want me moved and told them to leave me in the delivery room till the morning.
Thus began the very, very uncomfortable night in the delivery room. The bed I was on folded in the middle so you could sit up in it and have a baby, plus the end of the bed was detachable, so it had a lot of places to fall into. I am a bit of a princess and the pea sleeper as it is, and since I had just had a baby, I was all the more, shall we say, tender. Dean didn't have a great time on his narrow, vinyl couch. About 4am, they brought Amelia back to nurse. Someone came to help me. I don't think it went well, but I really don't remember. I do know that sitting up and trying to nurse her made my blood pressure reach an alarmingly high number. They left the baby with us for awhile. Dean held her the whole time, sitting up on his couch. Eventually they came and got her again. About 6am, Dr. Footer came back to check on me. It was suggested, by him or a nurse, that I should let her eat formula for a day so my blood pressure would stabilize. Someone said something like, "It's better to give her a little formula than to not be here for her later" or something similarly alarming.
Thus began Amelia's brief but intense addiction to Similac.
In the meantime, a nurse gave me a sponge bath while I mourned all the things I had thought were going to happen after my baby was born, like getting to hold her a lot right away, getting to walk around after the delivery, and getting to take a shower, that obviously were not. When they came to move me to the new room, they wheeled the whole bed down to the delivery room and had me slide onto it. There was no sitting up involved. That's when I really began to worry that something was very wrong with me. Apparently others, like my mom and Dean, were pretty worried too. I guess in the end all of it was pretty normal. No one had expected it, though. Preeclampsia is, ironically, one of the few scenarios I had not read much about, worried about in advance, and made some kind of action plan for.
So I spent the day after Amelia was born in high risk maternity in a magnesium haze. I didn't see her all day--or maybe they brought her to me once, but if they did I don't remember. The "mag," as they call it, blurred my vision and apparently made me somewhat incoherent (although I thought I was being pretty lucid, all things considered). It really must work in chilling you out, because I remember being only vaguely worried about my lonely formula baby in the nursery.
All this time, I was hooked up to an automatic blood pressure cuff that took a reading every 30 minutes. If the reading was too high, it beeped insistently until a nurse or someone came to turn it off. It beeped every single time. I couldn't reach the button to turn it off, so Dean was getting up every half an hour to turn it off, all day and night.
About 1:30 am of the next morning, I got to "get off the mag." At the same time, I took a blood pressure-lowering medicine that made my pulse go up a lot. Coming off the mag and taking the new medicine at the same time created a strange mental state in which I felt very awake but also very detached from where I was. When I closed my eyes I could see intricate colored patterns, sort of like water being rippled by hundreds of very tiny stones. I felt that I could write a beautiful, piercing account of Amelia's birth if I only had light, paper and the ability to sit up. Sadly, whatever I was composing disappeared with the end of the night and the rest of the mag.
The next day, I felt a lot better. My mom and Heather stayed with Dean and me while we waited for the baby to be brought to us for good. By the time they brought her, along with a lactation consultant for a nursing lesson, it looked like I would be going home the next day. So mom and Heather said good-bye, leaving me, Dean and Amelia to go home by ourselves the way we had professed we wanted to.
Chaos ensued. The lactation nurse was in the middle of shoving my nipple in Amelia's mouth when another nurse burst into the room and announced, "Dr. Nugent is ready to check the baby." I had no idea who Dr. Nugent was, and I was trying to learn to feed my child. I told the nurse this. She sighed and seemed put off but eventually checked with Dr. Nugent, who agreed to wait 15 minutes. In case you ever need to know, 15 minutes is not enough time to learn to breastfeed a newborn. Basically they took Amelia away hungry and unsatisfied. I was in tears. But we would try again later.
Which we did. The problem was I had no idea what I was doing. It's actually very hard to learn to hold a baby correctly for breastfeeding. The head has to be back and the neck can't be turned. The baby's body is supposed to be tight against the mother's. Then the baby has to latch on correctly. It's complicated and NOT all that instinctual.
So we had a rough evening. At the end of it (at which point they were finally moving me to the regular maternity ward, which they had been saying they were about to do all day) I was calling my mom in tears while Dean fed Amelia a bottle of Similac. At one point he put her down on the bed, and I looked at her and thought, "She's smaller than a breadbox, but everyone would miss her if she was gone. We have to keep her!"
Anyway, we eventually got in our new room. I undressed Amelia down to her diaper, took off my hospital gown, and we spent the whole night skin-to-skin. She finally latched on, the lying down position worked for both of us, and she had several 30-45 minute nursing sessions. It was a huge relief.
The next morning they brought us breakfast, and the nurse offered us The Washington Post. Dean took it, but we looked at each other in amazement at the reminder of the existence of the rest of the world.
We stayed for 2 more nights in the new room. I had a reaction to the first blood pressure medicine, which involved a fun hour of about 10 doctors and nurses running in and out and doing an EKG. It took awhile for Dr. Footer to be satisfied that he had found a good new medicine. The only up side to staying--and this is really a GOOD up side--was that the last day we were there, I had the best nurse ever, an excellent, wonderful, kind nurse named Sarah, who came in and out again and again to help me with nursing. She made me try to sit up and nurse, and that combined with Dean discovering and teaching me the "cross cradle hold" allowed Amelia to begin to turn into the champion nurser she is today. Also, the last night, Dr. Footer apparently ordered special breastfeeding help for me. I guess he wanted to make sure it was going well before he let me go home. So after the blessing of Sarah, we got to spend a lot of the night with Irene, who helped me fine tune our technique while she took my blood pressure and stroked Amelia's head, crooning, "Keep eating, baby." (Dean and I still say this to Amelia in Irene's singsong way. I don't think I'll ever forget the way she sounded.)
The last day we were in the hospital was stressful and drawn out. My blood pressure was higher than everyone wanted it to be, and it was questionable whether or not I would actually get out. This story has gone on long enough, though, so I'll cut to the end and say we FINALLY got to leave at about 6:00 pm. They wheeled me down to the exit, and I sat and waited to Dean to get the car. It was a beautiful fall evening. Between Amelia and me and the rest of the world were the two glass walls of the hospital entrance. Outside the leaves on the trees, bright yellow and the pale green of early autumn, were turning and shivering in the breeze.
Sometime soon after I had been wheeled into the delivery room, Dr. Footer told me after the birth I would be moved to the "High Risk Maternity Ward." This was because the magnesium, he said, "might make you a little out of it."
Once Amelia was born and had nursed a tiny bit, the nurses started asking if we wanted them to take her to the nursery so we could rest. Beforehand, I had thought I would never let them take my baby away from me right after she was born. But strapped to three IV tubes and a blood pressure cuff, totally exhausted, I was suggestible. Everyone seemed to think it would be best to let her go, and they promised to bring her back when she was ready to nurse again. In the meantime Dr. Footer decided he didn't want me moved and told them to leave me in the delivery room till the morning.
Thus began the very, very uncomfortable night in the delivery room. The bed I was on folded in the middle so you could sit up in it and have a baby, plus the end of the bed was detachable, so it had a lot of places to fall into. I am a bit of a princess and the pea sleeper as it is, and since I had just had a baby, I was all the more, shall we say, tender. Dean didn't have a great time on his narrow, vinyl couch. About 4am, they brought Amelia back to nurse. Someone came to help me. I don't think it went well, but I really don't remember. I do know that sitting up and trying to nurse her made my blood pressure reach an alarmingly high number. They left the baby with us for awhile. Dean held her the whole time, sitting up on his couch. Eventually they came and got her again. About 6am, Dr. Footer came back to check on me. It was suggested, by him or a nurse, that I should let her eat formula for a day so my blood pressure would stabilize. Someone said something like, "It's better to give her a little formula than to not be here for her later" or something similarly alarming.
Thus began Amelia's brief but intense addiction to Similac.
In the meantime, a nurse gave me a sponge bath while I mourned all the things I had thought were going to happen after my baby was born, like getting to hold her a lot right away, getting to walk around after the delivery, and getting to take a shower, that obviously were not. When they came to move me to the new room, they wheeled the whole bed down to the delivery room and had me slide onto it. There was no sitting up involved. That's when I really began to worry that something was very wrong with me. Apparently others, like my mom and Dean, were pretty worried too. I guess in the end all of it was pretty normal. No one had expected it, though. Preeclampsia is, ironically, one of the few scenarios I had not read much about, worried about in advance, and made some kind of action plan for.
So I spent the day after Amelia was born in high risk maternity in a magnesium haze. I didn't see her all day--or maybe they brought her to me once, but if they did I don't remember. The "mag," as they call it, blurred my vision and apparently made me somewhat incoherent (although I thought I was being pretty lucid, all things considered). It really must work in chilling you out, because I remember being only vaguely worried about my lonely formula baby in the nursery.
All this time, I was hooked up to an automatic blood pressure cuff that took a reading every 30 minutes. If the reading was too high, it beeped insistently until a nurse or someone came to turn it off. It beeped every single time. I couldn't reach the button to turn it off, so Dean was getting up every half an hour to turn it off, all day and night.
About 1:30 am of the next morning, I got to "get off the mag." At the same time, I took a blood pressure-lowering medicine that made my pulse go up a lot. Coming off the mag and taking the new medicine at the same time created a strange mental state in which I felt very awake but also very detached from where I was. When I closed my eyes I could see intricate colored patterns, sort of like water being rippled by hundreds of very tiny stones. I felt that I could write a beautiful, piercing account of Amelia's birth if I only had light, paper and the ability to sit up. Sadly, whatever I was composing disappeared with the end of the night and the rest of the mag.
The next day, I felt a lot better. My mom and Heather stayed with Dean and me while we waited for the baby to be brought to us for good. By the time they brought her, along with a lactation consultant for a nursing lesson, it looked like I would be going home the next day. So mom and Heather said good-bye, leaving me, Dean and Amelia to go home by ourselves the way we had professed we wanted to.
Chaos ensued. The lactation nurse was in the middle of shoving my nipple in Amelia's mouth when another nurse burst into the room and announced, "Dr. Nugent is ready to check the baby." I had no idea who Dr. Nugent was, and I was trying to learn to feed my child. I told the nurse this. She sighed and seemed put off but eventually checked with Dr. Nugent, who agreed to wait 15 minutes. In case you ever need to know, 15 minutes is not enough time to learn to breastfeed a newborn. Basically they took Amelia away hungry and unsatisfied. I was in tears. But we would try again later.
Which we did. The problem was I had no idea what I was doing. It's actually very hard to learn to hold a baby correctly for breastfeeding. The head has to be back and the neck can't be turned. The baby's body is supposed to be tight against the mother's. Then the baby has to latch on correctly. It's complicated and NOT all that instinctual.
So we had a rough evening. At the end of it (at which point they were finally moving me to the regular maternity ward, which they had been saying they were about to do all day) I was calling my mom in tears while Dean fed Amelia a bottle of Similac. At one point he put her down on the bed, and I looked at her and thought, "She's smaller than a breadbox, but everyone would miss her if she was gone. We have to keep her!"
Anyway, we eventually got in our new room. I undressed Amelia down to her diaper, took off my hospital gown, and we spent the whole night skin-to-skin. She finally latched on, the lying down position worked for both of us, and she had several 30-45 minute nursing sessions. It was a huge relief.
The next morning they brought us breakfast, and the nurse offered us The Washington Post. Dean took it, but we looked at each other in amazement at the reminder of the existence of the rest of the world.
We stayed for 2 more nights in the new room. I had a reaction to the first blood pressure medicine, which involved a fun hour of about 10 doctors and nurses running in and out and doing an EKG. It took awhile for Dr. Footer to be satisfied that he had found a good new medicine. The only up side to staying--and this is really a GOOD up side--was that the last day we were there, I had the best nurse ever, an excellent, wonderful, kind nurse named Sarah, who came in and out again and again to help me with nursing. She made me try to sit up and nurse, and that combined with Dean discovering and teaching me the "cross cradle hold" allowed Amelia to begin to turn into the champion nurser she is today. Also, the last night, Dr. Footer apparently ordered special breastfeeding help for me. I guess he wanted to make sure it was going well before he let me go home. So after the blessing of Sarah, we got to spend a lot of the night with Irene, who helped me fine tune our technique while she took my blood pressure and stroked Amelia's head, crooning, "Keep eating, baby." (Dean and I still say this to Amelia in Irene's singsong way. I don't think I'll ever forget the way she sounded.)
The last day we were in the hospital was stressful and drawn out. My blood pressure was higher than everyone wanted it to be, and it was questionable whether or not I would actually get out. This story has gone on long enough, though, so I'll cut to the end and say we FINALLY got to leave at about 6:00 pm. They wheeled me down to the exit, and I sat and waited to Dean to get the car. It was a beautiful fall evening. Between Amelia and me and the rest of the world were the two glass walls of the hospital entrance. Outside the leaves on the trees, bright yellow and the pale green of early autumn, were turning and shivering in the breeze.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
On Sleeping
Amelia is almost 3 weeks old! She is currently stirring in her pack-n-play bassinet. I just fed her, but she will want to eat again soon. For the last few days, she has been on something of a schedule: hungry, cheery and bright-eyed in the mornings, eating every half hour or so, then one longish afternoon nap, and a L-O-N-G nap from about 5:00 to 7:30 or 8:00 in the evening. The evening nap makes us nervous that she won't sleep at night, but after 8:00 she is up--and somewhat fussy--till about 10:00 or so, and goes to sleep for the "night" around 10:00 pm. She sleeps till about 1:00 am, eats for awhile, and what with the nursing, burping and diaper change I usually get in her back in the co-sleeper in about an hour. Then she wakes up to eat again in another 2 or, if we are lucky, 3 hours, and sleeps again till about 6:30 or so.
At night, I feed her in bed lying down, and I have been falling asleep as she eats. Some of the books recommend this method as a way for the mother to get more rest, and others caution not to have the baby in bed with you so you don't accidentally smother her in your sleep. While I was pregnant, I thought I would NEVER have her in bed with me--I thought I would be too scared. But lying in bed skin-to-skin with her, staying awake pretty much the entire night and feeding her on demand, was how I finally got her to start breastfeeding in the hospital. Then when we got home, for a few nights I thought she was too lonely in the co-sleeper, and I worried about her, so I just kept her near me. When I sleep with her, though, I don't move AT ALL, and I wake up very stiff and sore, plus I sleep very lightly. So now I do put in her in the co-sleeper after she eats and stops being squirmy. Sometimes I have to hold her so she's belly down on my chest for her to burp and get calm. But when I do put her in the co=sleeper, I don't worry so much anymore. I am just glad to get to really sleep for awhile.
All this just goes to show how little you can plan. Dean and I ALSO thought we wanted to bring her home by ourselves for the first week, but we changed our tune about an hour after my mother left the hospital. The next day we were placing urgent calls to the grandmothers, asking when they could come back up and how long they could stay!
I had to take a break from writing to feed Amelia and she is currently half-asleep, half-sucking at my breast, as I type with the computer way down at my knees. (We are on the couch, using a lot of pillows for support. Dean is at the grocery store.) All in all, I think we are doing very well. Amelia seems mostly to be a very cheerful and calm baby. I still get nervous around 5 each evening--the "witching hour"--but as I said she usually goes to sleep for a long nap around that time. We would much rather have her sleep then than cry inconsolably!
At night, I feed her in bed lying down, and I have been falling asleep as she eats. Some of the books recommend this method as a way for the mother to get more rest, and others caution not to have the baby in bed with you so you don't accidentally smother her in your sleep. While I was pregnant, I thought I would NEVER have her in bed with me--I thought I would be too scared. But lying in bed skin-to-skin with her, staying awake pretty much the entire night and feeding her on demand, was how I finally got her to start breastfeeding in the hospital. Then when we got home, for a few nights I thought she was too lonely in the co-sleeper, and I worried about her, so I just kept her near me. When I sleep with her, though, I don't move AT ALL, and I wake up very stiff and sore, plus I sleep very lightly. So now I do put in her in the co-sleeper after she eats and stops being squirmy. Sometimes I have to hold her so she's belly down on my chest for her to burp and get calm. But when I do put her in the co=sleeper, I don't worry so much anymore. I am just glad to get to really sleep for awhile.
All this just goes to show how little you can plan. Dean and I ALSO thought we wanted to bring her home by ourselves for the first week, but we changed our tune about an hour after my mother left the hospital. The next day we were placing urgent calls to the grandmothers, asking when they could come back up and how long they could stay!
I had to take a break from writing to feed Amelia and she is currently half-asleep, half-sucking at my breast, as I type with the computer way down at my knees. (We are on the couch, using a lot of pillows for support. Dean is at the grocery store.) All in all, I think we are doing very well. Amelia seems mostly to be a very cheerful and calm baby. I still get nervous around 5 each evening--the "witching hour"--but as I said she usually goes to sleep for a long nap around that time. We would much rather have her sleep then than cry inconsolably!
Thursday, October 22, 2009
A Baby Story, Part 2
Amelia is in her Ergo carrier, grunting and sucking the side of her hand, as I write. We'll see how long this lasts.
So, we got to the hospital. Dean parked in the circle in front of the hospital. He kept moving the car. Finally we got out and walked to the elevators they had told us about on the tour. The front desk called Dean over, though, to get a visitor's pass. They said I didn't need one (haha--I was not in the mood to joke.) I was not in terrible pain but I wasn't feeling great, either. When we got up to the maternity floor we had to wait in line behind another pregnant woman to check in. In the meantime 3 or 4 more pregnant women came in right behind me. The day before had been a full moon so maybe that had something to do with it? It was interesting, despite the contractions I was having, to see the different pregnant women as we waited to go back to triage. One woman was sitting calmly in a wheelchair--NOT something I felt like doing. I was standing up and occasionally squatting or leaning over this little end table near these people who were, I assume, waiting on someone they knew to have a baby. They were not smiley or friendly to me, which I thought was very rude. Then one woman came in crying, with a friend who called out, "She's seven and a half months and in a lot of pain!" I worried for her. I thought they should let her go in before me, but soon I was called back.
They put me in a little curtained area. I could hear someone throwing up. It was very surreal at that point. I got changed into the hospital gown and on the table. I just wanted someone to check me and tell me I was 8 cm dilated so I could go have the baby.
But first, they took my blood pressure.
The nurse said, "Your blood pressure is really high!" and walked out of the room.
I was unconcerned by that, as I was preoccupied with when they were going to check my dilation. But Dean said that announcement really scared him. The nurse came back and took my blood pressure several more times. (Eventually she did check--I was 5 cm dilated.) Dr. Footer, my doctor, was called. The nurse put a saline IV in, explaining that they would probably put me on magnesium sulfate. I sort of argued that maybe didn't need the IV but she would have none of it. Eventually they wheeled me back to the delivery room.
Things get sort of fuzzy in my memory, timewise, but the gist of it is I had preeclampsia. This is after nine months of totally normal blood pressure. Sadly, I learned I not only had to be hooked up to the IV for the whole labor, but that I couldn't move around at all, due to the blood pressure issue. So I got in the bed.
Eventually Dr. Footer came in. He explained a bit more about the medicine, the magnesium sulfate or "mag," as they call it. It does not lower your blood pressure but prevents the side effects of high BP, such as seizures. (Fun!) He said it might make me "a little out of it." (Ha! The next day I could barely see. But more on that later.) In the meantime he said he knew he wasn't supposed to ask about pain medication but... maybe I wanted an epidural? I remember saying it was okay if he asked, as my birth plan was pretty much a piece of humor writing by then. I asked when would be too late to get the epidural, and he said he had given them up to 9 cm. So I decided to wait and see how it went.
Thus began (or continued, I guess) the endurance test that is labor. I was hooked up to a fetal monitor, which allowed everyone else (Dean, the nurses, the doctor) to see when a contraction was coming. I of course could feel them coming but a few times they could tell before I did, which got on my nerves. Every time one came Dean would remind me to breathe and as they got more painful, I started turning to the side and gripping the handle on the bed. Also Dean's hand and arm. (I thought he would be bruised but he wasn't.) I did the huff-puff fast breathing through the worst parts. The hardest thing was not pushing during the most intense part of the last contrations. I wanted to push but wasn't dilated enough.
The labor is hard to write about because my memory of it is almost totally visceral. It was very, very intense. The height of the contractions were very painful. It's hard to describe, though. It was kind of like being washed up in ocean waves. Something way more powerful than yourself taking over your body. There was little thinking (if I had been thinking, I probably would have asked for an epidural.) It was a very "being" experience.
The worst part was definitely the end of the contractions right before they told me I could push. Pushing was a huge relief. At this point they kept saying the baby was almost there. Apparently they told my mom and Luli (who kept sneaking back to the delivery room and getting kicked out by the nurse) it would only be 20 more minutes once I began pushing.
It was not to be. I think I started pushing at 7:30 and Amelia was born at 10:16 PM. It was tiring. They kept telling me to push 3 times with each contraction, but by the 3rd push I was out of energy. I think I would have done better with one long push, and my birth plan DID say I wanted to push on my own, but at that point I was just doing what they told me to do. After awhile I got worried Dr. Footer was only going to let this go on for so long. In fact, the contraction before Amelia came, he said we would need to consider an episiotomy if she didn't come soon. But I pushed hard with the next one and she came. I think he would have tried the episiotomoy, then soon wanted to do a c-section. But luckily, we didn't have to worry about that! She came in the nick of the time. And mom and Luli had sent Heather back to spy at that point, so she got to hear Amelia being born.
Once she came out it happened very fast. It was like her head came out and then the rest of her body just slipped out so easily. Dean said "Look!" (I had my eyes closed. At one point they gave me a mirror but I could see so little of her head that I did not find it encouraging at all.) I opened my eyes and there she was! They put her on my belly for just a second. Dean and I stared at each other in a kind of shock. I touched her and got the vernix all over my hand. Then they whisked Amelia away.
In the meantime I delivered the placenta, which was very easy. They threw it away before I could see it--Dean said it was not worth seeing but I had wanted to see it. Then I got some stitches while they did the usual baby things to Amelia (her Apgar score was 9.9). They did that kneading thing to my belly, which was uncomfortable, but not as bad as I'd dreaded. Finally they brought Amelia back to me, someone showed me how to nurse, and she was sucking away as Jim and Luli and mom and Heather came back to meet their new granddaughter/niece.
My baby has been very patient, and I am going to let her out of her carrier now. Soon we'll get part 3, the story of our FOUR NIGHT STAY at the hospital.
So, we got to the hospital. Dean parked in the circle in front of the hospital. He kept moving the car. Finally we got out and walked to the elevators they had told us about on the tour. The front desk called Dean over, though, to get a visitor's pass. They said I didn't need one (haha--I was not in the mood to joke.) I was not in terrible pain but I wasn't feeling great, either. When we got up to the maternity floor we had to wait in line behind another pregnant woman to check in. In the meantime 3 or 4 more pregnant women came in right behind me. The day before had been a full moon so maybe that had something to do with it? It was interesting, despite the contractions I was having, to see the different pregnant women as we waited to go back to triage. One woman was sitting calmly in a wheelchair--NOT something I felt like doing. I was standing up and occasionally squatting or leaning over this little end table near these people who were, I assume, waiting on someone they knew to have a baby. They were not smiley or friendly to me, which I thought was very rude. Then one woman came in crying, with a friend who called out, "She's seven and a half months and in a lot of pain!" I worried for her. I thought they should let her go in before me, but soon I was called back.
They put me in a little curtained area. I could hear someone throwing up. It was very surreal at that point. I got changed into the hospital gown and on the table. I just wanted someone to check me and tell me I was 8 cm dilated so I could go have the baby.
But first, they took my blood pressure.
The nurse said, "Your blood pressure is really high!" and walked out of the room.
I was unconcerned by that, as I was preoccupied with when they were going to check my dilation. But Dean said that announcement really scared him. The nurse came back and took my blood pressure several more times. (Eventually she did check--I was 5 cm dilated.) Dr. Footer, my doctor, was called. The nurse put a saline IV in, explaining that they would probably put me on magnesium sulfate. I sort of argued that maybe didn't need the IV but she would have none of it. Eventually they wheeled me back to the delivery room.
Things get sort of fuzzy in my memory, timewise, but the gist of it is I had preeclampsia. This is after nine months of totally normal blood pressure. Sadly, I learned I not only had to be hooked up to the IV for the whole labor, but that I couldn't move around at all, due to the blood pressure issue. So I got in the bed.
Eventually Dr. Footer came in. He explained a bit more about the medicine, the magnesium sulfate or "mag," as they call it. It does not lower your blood pressure but prevents the side effects of high BP, such as seizures. (Fun!) He said it might make me "a little out of it." (Ha! The next day I could barely see. But more on that later.) In the meantime he said he knew he wasn't supposed to ask about pain medication but... maybe I wanted an epidural? I remember saying it was okay if he asked, as my birth plan was pretty much a piece of humor writing by then. I asked when would be too late to get the epidural, and he said he had given them up to 9 cm. So I decided to wait and see how it went.
Thus began (or continued, I guess) the endurance test that is labor. I was hooked up to a fetal monitor, which allowed everyone else (Dean, the nurses, the doctor) to see when a contraction was coming. I of course could feel them coming but a few times they could tell before I did, which got on my nerves. Every time one came Dean would remind me to breathe and as they got more painful, I started turning to the side and gripping the handle on the bed. Also Dean's hand and arm. (I thought he would be bruised but he wasn't.) I did the huff-puff fast breathing through the worst parts. The hardest thing was not pushing during the most intense part of the last contrations. I wanted to push but wasn't dilated enough.
The labor is hard to write about because my memory of it is almost totally visceral. It was very, very intense. The height of the contractions were very painful. It's hard to describe, though. It was kind of like being washed up in ocean waves. Something way more powerful than yourself taking over your body. There was little thinking (if I had been thinking, I probably would have asked for an epidural.) It was a very "being" experience.
The worst part was definitely the end of the contractions right before they told me I could push. Pushing was a huge relief. At this point they kept saying the baby was almost there. Apparently they told my mom and Luli (who kept sneaking back to the delivery room and getting kicked out by the nurse) it would only be 20 more minutes once I began pushing.
It was not to be. I think I started pushing at 7:30 and Amelia was born at 10:16 PM. It was tiring. They kept telling me to push 3 times with each contraction, but by the 3rd push I was out of energy. I think I would have done better with one long push, and my birth plan DID say I wanted to push on my own, but at that point I was just doing what they told me to do. After awhile I got worried Dr. Footer was only going to let this go on for so long. In fact, the contraction before Amelia came, he said we would need to consider an episiotomy if she didn't come soon. But I pushed hard with the next one and she came. I think he would have tried the episiotomoy, then soon wanted to do a c-section. But luckily, we didn't have to worry about that! She came in the nick of the time. And mom and Luli had sent Heather back to spy at that point, so she got to hear Amelia being born.
Once she came out it happened very fast. It was like her head came out and then the rest of her body just slipped out so easily. Dean said "Look!" (I had my eyes closed. At one point they gave me a mirror but I could see so little of her head that I did not find it encouraging at all.) I opened my eyes and there she was! They put her on my belly for just a second. Dean and I stared at each other in a kind of shock. I touched her and got the vernix all over my hand. Then they whisked Amelia away.
In the meantime I delivered the placenta, which was very easy. They threw it away before I could see it--Dean said it was not worth seeing but I had wanted to see it. Then I got some stitches while they did the usual baby things to Amelia (her Apgar score was 9.9). They did that kneading thing to my belly, which was uncomfortable, but not as bad as I'd dreaded. Finally they brought Amelia back to me, someone showed me how to nurse, and she was sucking away as Jim and Luli and mom and Heather came back to meet their new granddaughter/niece.
My baby has been very patient, and I am going to let her out of her carrier now. Soon we'll get part 3, the story of our FOUR NIGHT STAY at the hospital.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
A is for ?
I know I am still only at the beginning of the baby story, but I thought I would write about the present. We are doing pretty well! So far it looks like Amelia is not going to be colicky, which is my great fear. I feel I can only deal with so much, and a baby who cries from 5-8 PM (like sweet Heather used to do, and as I'm told I did too) seems like it's over my limit.
Right now Amelia is sleeping in a sort of baby massage chair Meg gave us. It is playing soothing baby music. We took her for a long walk in the Ergo carrier, which seems to make her sleep, and then she stayed asleep when we got home. I am waiting for her to wake up and nurse.
She is a champion nurser, despite being a formula junkie for the first 24 hours or so of her life (more on that later). She gained a whole pound in a week and a day, the time between her two doctor's appointments. The doctor said her "robust appetite" is a sign of her health. Amelia likes to eat a lot. Based on what I'd read and heard from friends about the first weeks with a newborn, I tried to mentally prepare for doing nothing much but nurse for her first month. That's pretty much the way things are going. The hardest thing for me is the lack of nighttime sleeping. I am a sleeper. I tend to fall apart without enough sleep. Amelia has had some nights where she slept 3 hours at a time, and others where she was up every hour and a half or less. It's also hard to know when to take her to bed. Going to bed early doesn't mean we will get more sleep. I have napped some, but I am a bad napper.
I am hanging in there for now, but there are signs the lack of sleep is getting to me. Yesterday, we took Amelia to the doctor, and as I was signing her in, I forgot her name. I wrote the letter "A" and went blank. I sort of stared at the sign-in sheet for a few seconds, waiting for her name to come to me. I thought, "It's not Annabelle." Finally I remembered. We should probably stop calling her "the baby." Maybe that would help.
All right, there is a significant amount of grunting and wiggling going on in the baby chair...
Right now Amelia is sleeping in a sort of baby massage chair Meg gave us. It is playing soothing baby music. We took her for a long walk in the Ergo carrier, which seems to make her sleep, and then she stayed asleep when we got home. I am waiting for her to wake up and nurse.
She is a champion nurser, despite being a formula junkie for the first 24 hours or so of her life (more on that later). She gained a whole pound in a week and a day, the time between her two doctor's appointments. The doctor said her "robust appetite" is a sign of her health. Amelia likes to eat a lot. Based on what I'd read and heard from friends about the first weeks with a newborn, I tried to mentally prepare for doing nothing much but nurse for her first month. That's pretty much the way things are going. The hardest thing for me is the lack of nighttime sleeping. I am a sleeper. I tend to fall apart without enough sleep. Amelia has had some nights where she slept 3 hours at a time, and others where she was up every hour and a half or less. It's also hard to know when to take her to bed. Going to bed early doesn't mean we will get more sleep. I have napped some, but I am a bad napper.
I am hanging in there for now, but there are signs the lack of sleep is getting to me. Yesterday, we took Amelia to the doctor, and as I was signing her in, I forgot her name. I wrote the letter "A" and went blank. I sort of stared at the sign-in sheet for a few seconds, waiting for her name to come to me. I thought, "It's not Annabelle." Finally I remembered. We should probably stop calling her "the baby." Maybe that would help.
All right, there is a significant amount of grunting and wiggling going on in the baby chair...
Monday, October 19, 2009
A Baby Story, Part 1
In honor of Amelia's two week birthday, I am finally going to start her birth story. I didn't know where to begin, but Dean suggested the beginning. Sounds good to me.
On Friday, October 3, I met my friend Laura downtown for lunch. I walked a long way--from our home in Capitol Hill to T-Mobile on 10th and E NW (my cell phone was broken)--but took the Metro the rest of the way because my back hurt. After lunch I went to Filene's Basement to look for some slippers for the hospital, and when I went to their bathroom, I suspected I had passed my mucus plug. (If that's TMI, you should stop reading now. More graphic details are to come)
I was very excited, because I thought seeing the mucus plug meant labor would begin soon. Turns out it's one of those signs tha could mean labor is very close--OR several days or more away. But I didn't know that till I went home and googled it. In the meantime, new slippers in hand, I got on the Metro to go home. On the Metro, I panicked. I was thinking, there is no way I can have this baby. In fact I don't think I want to have a baby. But I tried to get a hold of myself. After all, I'd "boarded the train there's no getting off" a long time ago. Then, a homeless man got on and sat across from me. He kept staring so I looked over and smiled. He smiled and made a big circular motion from his chest to his belly--indicating I was pregnant. I nodded. He smiled a huge smile and gave me two thumbs up. Then he offered me some of this white cheddar popcorn he was illegally eating on the Metro. I smiled and declined. As I got off the train he said, "Good luck!"
It was very encouraging. One thing to miss about late pregnancy--not that I am saying I miss it--is the closeness it seems to invite to the world. Everyone always smiled so much at me--and the bigger I got, the more they smiled. Particularly homeless people. Homeless people have always hurt me--seeing them I mean, and worrying about them and feeling helpless about what to do about them--but while I was pregnant homelessness bothered me in a new way because I kept thinking how everyone I saw used to be in the same place as my baby, tiny and growing inside their mothers. How do things end up the way they do?
Anyway, it WAS nice, having everyone smile and feeling a connection with people due to being extremely pregnant. I felt encouraged by the man on the train. I also generally felt like I was at the top of a very tall roller coaster ride and about to go down the other side. I do not like roller coasters. But I was trying to be calm and brave. Having a baby is a great big yes to the universe. I tried to keep saying yes.
So Friday afternoon I came home and did a bunch of laundry. Friday night was very nice and Dean and I, suspecting it might be our last night out for a long time, went out to eat at an Italian restaurant that opened up nearby our house. The service was awful and we sat there for over an hour and a half with no food. We ended up leaving money for our drinks and appetizer on the table and coming home to make scrambled eggs.
On Saturday, there was no baby yet, so we walked back downtown and I bought a new cell phone, then we walked to the National Cathedral (not from downtown,though, from Woodley Park). It was a beautiful fall day. You could smell the leaves being crushed on the sidewalk. Saturday night we tried again for our night out at another Italian restaurant. It worked out much better. We walked to dinner and back. I was in serious labor-inducing mode.
On Sunday, there was no baby yet again, and we were a bit at odds with what to do with ourselves. We decided to go to a couple of open houses in Takoma Park (that's another story entirely). Lots more walking. And Takoma Park was having a street festival, so we listened to some music and ate falallfel, AND I got to have a snow cone. (Snow cones were one of my strong cravings, but I could never find them. Once I had one at the zoo. For four dollars.) It was another very pretty day.
On Sunday evening, I felt sort of achy so I took a bath. Then right before dinner I noticed some leaking, watery, when I got up from lying on the couch. Not much at all--but definitely a watery fluid. Dean and I discussed calling the doctor, but I didn't want to because what was he going to do at that point? It was the only sign I had so far. I didn't want to be told to go to the hospital on Sunday night. It seemed better to stay home and go to sleep, which is what we did. (My doctor later got kind of snippy with me about not calling about the "leakage of fluid." Oh well.)
Monday morning, I felt what I thought were the first contractions about 5:30 AM. I got up and read a bit and sent an email to Agnes about teaching. By around 8:00 I was fairly sure I was in labor, but the contractions were relatively mild and far apart so Dean went into work to wrap up a few things. He came home around 10:30 or so and we walked to the bagel shop, where I got a smoothie, and then to the market, where I got a can of chicken noodle soup. We walked home with that and I ate the soup. In the meantime the contractions were strengthening. We watched an episode of The Office on dvd. In the meantime I had realized that much of my training for labor was going to be somewhat useless. I kept looking at this page of laboring positions we got at the yoga-for-delivery workshop and thinking, "yeah, right." The only thing that really helped was standing still and breathing. Or occasionally leaning on Dean. None of this squatting, hands and knees, etc stuff. Who knew?
Around 2:00, I called the doctor. who of course suggested I go to the hospital. We put it off till about 3:15, then got in the car. To the sounds of The Beastie Boys' Hello Nasty, which I will now forever asscoiate with giving birth, we were off to Holy Cross Hospital. Little did we know, we were in for a surprise when we got there.
(To be continued ASAP in "A Baby Story, Part 2"...)
On Friday, October 3, I met my friend Laura downtown for lunch. I walked a long way--from our home in Capitol Hill to T-Mobile on 10th and E NW (my cell phone was broken)--but took the Metro the rest of the way because my back hurt. After lunch I went to Filene's Basement to look for some slippers for the hospital, and when I went to their bathroom, I suspected I had passed my mucus plug. (If that's TMI, you should stop reading now. More graphic details are to come)
I was very excited, because I thought seeing the mucus plug meant labor would begin soon. Turns out it's one of those signs tha could mean labor is very close--OR several days or more away. But I didn't know that till I went home and googled it. In the meantime, new slippers in hand, I got on the Metro to go home. On the Metro, I panicked. I was thinking, there is no way I can have this baby. In fact I don't think I want to have a baby. But I tried to get a hold of myself. After all, I'd "boarded the train there's no getting off" a long time ago. Then, a homeless man got on and sat across from me. He kept staring so I looked over and smiled. He smiled and made a big circular motion from his chest to his belly--indicating I was pregnant. I nodded. He smiled a huge smile and gave me two thumbs up. Then he offered me some of this white cheddar popcorn he was illegally eating on the Metro. I smiled and declined. As I got off the train he said, "Good luck!"
It was very encouraging. One thing to miss about late pregnancy--not that I am saying I miss it--is the closeness it seems to invite to the world. Everyone always smiled so much at me--and the bigger I got, the more they smiled. Particularly homeless people. Homeless people have always hurt me--seeing them I mean, and worrying about them and feeling helpless about what to do about them--but while I was pregnant homelessness bothered me in a new way because I kept thinking how everyone I saw used to be in the same place as my baby, tiny and growing inside their mothers. How do things end up the way they do?
Anyway, it WAS nice, having everyone smile and feeling a connection with people due to being extremely pregnant. I felt encouraged by the man on the train. I also generally felt like I was at the top of a very tall roller coaster ride and about to go down the other side. I do not like roller coasters. But I was trying to be calm and brave. Having a baby is a great big yes to the universe. I tried to keep saying yes.
So Friday afternoon I came home and did a bunch of laundry. Friday night was very nice and Dean and I, suspecting it might be our last night out for a long time, went out to eat at an Italian restaurant that opened up nearby our house. The service was awful and we sat there for over an hour and a half with no food. We ended up leaving money for our drinks and appetizer on the table and coming home to make scrambled eggs.
On Saturday, there was no baby yet, so we walked back downtown and I bought a new cell phone, then we walked to the National Cathedral (not from downtown,though, from Woodley Park). It was a beautiful fall day. You could smell the leaves being crushed on the sidewalk. Saturday night we tried again for our night out at another Italian restaurant. It worked out much better. We walked to dinner and back. I was in serious labor-inducing mode.
On Sunday, there was no baby yet again, and we were a bit at odds with what to do with ourselves. We decided to go to a couple of open houses in Takoma Park (that's another story entirely). Lots more walking. And Takoma Park was having a street festival, so we listened to some music and ate falallfel, AND I got to have a snow cone. (Snow cones were one of my strong cravings, but I could never find them. Once I had one at the zoo. For four dollars.) It was another very pretty day.
On Sunday evening, I felt sort of achy so I took a bath. Then right before dinner I noticed some leaking, watery, when I got up from lying on the couch. Not much at all--but definitely a watery fluid. Dean and I discussed calling the doctor, but I didn't want to because what was he going to do at that point? It was the only sign I had so far. I didn't want to be told to go to the hospital on Sunday night. It seemed better to stay home and go to sleep, which is what we did. (My doctor later got kind of snippy with me about not calling about the "leakage of fluid." Oh well.)
Monday morning, I felt what I thought were the first contractions about 5:30 AM. I got up and read a bit and sent an email to Agnes about teaching. By around 8:00 I was fairly sure I was in labor, but the contractions were relatively mild and far apart so Dean went into work to wrap up a few things. He came home around 10:30 or so and we walked to the bagel shop, where I got a smoothie, and then to the market, where I got a can of chicken noodle soup. We walked home with that and I ate the soup. In the meantime the contractions were strengthening. We watched an episode of The Office on dvd. In the meantime I had realized that much of my training for labor was going to be somewhat useless. I kept looking at this page of laboring positions we got at the yoga-for-delivery workshop and thinking, "yeah, right." The only thing that really helped was standing still and breathing. Or occasionally leaning on Dean. None of this squatting, hands and knees, etc stuff. Who knew?
Around 2:00, I called the doctor. who of course suggested I go to the hospital. We put it off till about 3:15, then got in the car. To the sounds of The Beastie Boys' Hello Nasty, which I will now forever asscoiate with giving birth, we were off to Holy Cross Hospital. Little did we know, we were in for a surprise when we got there.
(To be continued ASAP in "A Baby Story, Part 2"...)
Thursday, October 15, 2009
10 days
Amelia is 10 days old today! One of her grandmothers left yesterday and another is coming in today. We did pretty well by ourselves last night! But we are glad for all the help and grandma love.
I have so much to write about I don't know where to begin! But for now I am going to "sleep while the baby sleeps." I just wanted to check in and say we are all doing well. I promise to at least begin my baby story soon!
I have so much to write about I don't know where to begin! But for now I am going to "sleep while the baby sleeps." I just wanted to check in and say we are all doing well. I promise to at least begin my baby story soon!
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Amelia O'Connor Sanderford
I know I have a lot of updating to do--but for now here are some more pictures of Amelia!
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