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.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
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!
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
So, I'm the guest blogger, filling in for Kim while she temporarily resides at Holy Cross Hospital in Maryland since the birth of Amelia O'Connor Sanderford on October 5th (her due date!)
.
Amelia was born at 10:17 PM after almost 17 hours of labor.
( I believe I'm right about this. My son, Dean, told me Kim's first contraction was around 5:30 AM) She weighed 7 pounds, 4 ounces at birth. She Is 20 and a half inches long.
I won't go into the details of the labor...that's Kim's story to tell, for sure!
I will say that Amelia is perfect! She has thick, shiny black hair, her mom's beautiful pouty mouth, and the most delicate features. She's already very curious about her surroundings, and looked into her father's eyes with, what seemed to me, almost a recognition. Maybe it was his voice she was responding to. She's certainly heard that voice often for the last many months. I know, as one of Amelia's grandmothers, I could be a bit biased, but I have to say she'a a pretty extraordinary infant! She has certainly captivated me! I find myself thinking of her face and her tiny hands almost constantly.
What I think I know is this: Amelia is no ordinary baby!
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Dear Amelia
I've gotten lots of well-wishes over the weekend, including this beautiful letter from Liz. It's a full moon! Please join Liz--not to mention me and Dean--in inviting Amelia to come join the world outside the womb!
~~~~~~~
Dear Amelia,
I know we haven't met yet, but I'm one of your mom's friends, and I thought I should introduce myself early so you'll know me from an early age. Your mom and I have been great pen pals over the years (well not always great at being pen pals, since we had our occasional lulls in letter-writing, but great pen pals nonetheless), so I thought something in the form of a letter would be most appropriate.
I know from reading your mom's blog that you're still on the inside, and she's rather ready for you to come out. In fact, there are lots of us out here ready for you to come out and show yourself to the world. I keep waiting to log on to Question Air and see it say, "The pot is simmering" or boiling or boiling over! But no luck. It sounds like you're making some progress, helping mom's body open up for you, but you're going to have to make a big move to get things going.
My guess is that you're a little nervous about coming out. It's all warm and snuggly there in mommy's belly. You're familiar with the space -- maybe you even have some posters of My Little Pony up on the walls. You can sleep when you want, stay close to mom, don't even have to work hard to get your food. But here's the thing -- things are great on the outside, too. You have not just a mom, but a dad, and he'd super-love to get to hold you, too. And mom would like to be able to put you down sometimes -- not for long, I promise, but just to get a little break. They want to see your face and kiss you and snuggle you close. And there's even more people who love you and want to see you, too -- like grandparents and an aunt and uncle. They've been waiting for you and getting excited about you coming for a long time. You are a dream come true for all of them, and they can't wait to meet you.
I remember when my little boy was snuggled up inside of me. It was a wonderful time for him and me both, but he eventually decided to head out (haha), and it's been loads of fun since then. Now he can crawl and is learning to stand. He gets to eat lots of different things. He can pat the doggie (you have a cat named Suki) and sit in my lap to read a book. When he came out I got to see his cute dimples, especially when he smiles. Do you have dimples? We don't know yet because we can't see you!
So please, please, Amelia, come out and see us! You mom and dad are totally ready. They're getting worried that if you don't come out on your own, someone will come in after you, and no one wants that!
We love you, Amelia!
Miss Liz
~~~~~~~
Dear Amelia,
I know we haven't met yet, but I'm one of your mom's friends, and I thought I should introduce myself early so you'll know me from an early age. Your mom and I have been great pen pals over the years (well not always great at being pen pals, since we had our occasional lulls in letter-writing, but great pen pals nonetheless), so I thought something in the form of a letter would be most appropriate.
I know from reading your mom's blog that you're still on the inside, and she's rather ready for you to come out. In fact, there are lots of us out here ready for you to come out and show yourself to the world. I keep waiting to log on to Question Air and see it say, "The pot is simmering" or boiling or boiling over! But no luck. It sounds like you're making some progress, helping mom's body open up for you, but you're going to have to make a big move to get things going.
My guess is that you're a little nervous about coming out. It's all warm and snuggly there in mommy's belly. You're familiar with the space -- maybe you even have some posters of My Little Pony up on the walls. You can sleep when you want, stay close to mom, don't even have to work hard to get your food. But here's the thing -- things are great on the outside, too. You have not just a mom, but a dad, and he'd super-love to get to hold you, too. And mom would like to be able to put you down sometimes -- not for long, I promise, but just to get a little break. They want to see your face and kiss you and snuggle you close. And there's even more people who love you and want to see you, too -- like grandparents and an aunt and uncle. They've been waiting for you and getting excited about you coming for a long time. You are a dream come true for all of them, and they can't wait to meet you.
I remember when my little boy was snuggled up inside of me. It was a wonderful time for him and me both, but he eventually decided to head out (haha), and it's been loads of fun since then. Now he can crawl and is learning to stand. He gets to eat lots of different things. He can pat the doggie (you have a cat named Suki) and sit in my lap to read a book. When he came out I got to see his cute dimples, especially when he smiles. Do you have dimples? We don't know yet because we can't see you!
So please, please, Amelia, come out and see us! You mom and dad are totally ready. They're getting worried that if you don't come out on your own, someone will come in after you, and no one wants that!
We love you, Amelia!
Miss Liz
Friday, October 2, 2009
Here we are
I found this green sparkly sweater today in the back of my closet. I bought in way back in the spring, on clearance, thinking there might be a few chilly days before the baby came. It looks better on the baby than it does on me, I think.
No baby, just a very pregnant person.
I was just reading Beyond Friendship Gate and saw that Caroline was wondering about the lack of post yesterday. No baby, just a very pregnant person. I taught yesterday and then stayed to check off some homework and do some other work in my office. I am really hoping not to have to go back to school on Tuesday. My students are choosing writing topics and helping them with that is always an involved process. Since I am not going to be grading this first set of papers it would probably be better if Agnes (my "sub") knew something about their topic selections anyway. Even if the baby is not here I could stop working, but I want to have as much time as possible after she is here to be out-- and it could be another week or so after next Tuesday, I guess.
I am getting a little worn out with the waiting, and the due date isn't even here. One thing that didn't help was having my doctor schedule an induction for the 12th. He said, "Don't get mad if the hospital calls you, it's just easier if you have a room in advance." The 12th is a week beyond the due date. He talked about various natural methods of induction, which is fine, but I don't like feeling as though there is a deadline. I guess if it comes to that there will be tests and things and I can fight against the induction on the 12th if I don't want it. Still, it's annoying to have to think about. I should have found a midwife.
Other than that, Wednesday's doctor visit was fine. Happy baby, 80% effaced, 3 cm dilated. The doctor said something must be going on, since I am effaced and dilated and the baby's head is "way, way down." (He actually said, "I don't see how you're walking around, her head is so far down." I can often feel the pressure of her head. She will likely be a little coneheaded baby.)
I am planning a long, long walk today. I am also going to pack up some of my maternity clothes--it's too cool for some of them, and I have outgrown others. That will be very satisfying.
In conclusion, please ask Amelia to join us outside in the lovely fall weather here. Today would be fine, or this weekend. Before Wednesday would be okay too. Of course we will take her whenever she comes, but we are ready--as ready as we can be...
I am getting a little worn out with the waiting, and the due date isn't even here. One thing that didn't help was having my doctor schedule an induction for the 12th. He said, "Don't get mad if the hospital calls you, it's just easier if you have a room in advance." The 12th is a week beyond the due date. He talked about various natural methods of induction, which is fine, but I don't like feeling as though there is a deadline. I guess if it comes to that there will be tests and things and I can fight against the induction on the 12th if I don't want it. Still, it's annoying to have to think about. I should have found a midwife.
Other than that, Wednesday's doctor visit was fine. Happy baby, 80% effaced, 3 cm dilated. The doctor said something must be going on, since I am effaced and dilated and the baby's head is "way, way down." (He actually said, "I don't see how you're walking around, her head is so far down." I can often feel the pressure of her head. She will likely be a little coneheaded baby.)
I am planning a long, long walk today. I am also going to pack up some of my maternity clothes--it's too cool for some of them, and I have outgrown others. That will be very satisfying.
In conclusion, please ask Amelia to join us outside in the lovely fall weather here. Today would be fine, or this weekend. Before Wednesday would be okay too. Of course we will take her whenever she comes, but we are ready--as ready as we can be...
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