When Dr. Lady's temporary replacement (Dr. New Girl) came in to check Thomas's everything, the first words out of her mouth were "do you have any questions for me?"
We did.
Are his leg cracks OK? They look owie.
Why does he wheeze? Does he have asthma already?
Can you make the nose-puking stop? Please?
and most importantly: When is it safe to go back to church and out in public?
In short, his leg cracks are fine, he's wheezing because his throat is coated with milk and the nose-puking is something we'll have to work on.
As for church (and public), it MIGHT be safe to go to church by March or April. Of course you'll go back before then, but it's flu season and you risk disease and death.
Then she started volunteering information about just how paranoid we should be about quarantining our baby.
In short, VERY paranoid is best. No Christmas parties. No being Mormon. No kids. No touching. No breathing. Yes wet wipes. Yes hand sanitizer. Yes soap and water. No diseases.
So we left the Dr.'s office and showed him off at my office and went to Walmart. Downtown. That was stupid.
In my defense, we needed things, and we were already halfway there. And Dr. New Girl said "don't let people touch him, that's the real concern." And we left him totally covered with a blanket in his carseat the entire time. And we didn't even touch him until we got home and washed our hands. And I just didn't want him to run out of diapers. (Did you know diapers cost like $20 for 1 package? For something he POOPS on. Literally!) And I figured that since we weren't going to stay in our house until April anyway, we may as well get out today.
While at Walmart we bought some bananas. Because they looked tasty. To Josh, not me. The triple-chocolate-fudge cake on my counter looks tasty to me.
And when we were checking out, the world's slowest disgustingest checkout lady sneezed. Right into her hands. Then she picked up my bananas AND my bottle of Simply Orange juice and put them in a bag.
It was like the gross slow motion part of a movie. I could see all the germs running around the store SWARMING my bananas. The plastic grocery sack suddenly became a hotel for every green goblin within 50 miles. The lice jumped off the head of the guy behind us to join his creepy crawly friends in the party zone.
I gagged.
Josh paid.
The lady sanitized her hands while telling Josh - "sorry, I have to sanitize my hands because I just sneezed and I don't want to spread anything."
I somehow refrained from jumping over the bagging station and strangling her right then and there while shouting about my contaminated groceries and asking why she was the dumbest person on the planet. "YOU TOUCHED MY FOOD BETWEEN SNEEZING AND SANITIZING YOU FOOL!!! Are you stupid? Do you know nothing? Did you flunk out of kindergarten when they taught you to WASH YOUR HANDS? Are you the idiot they put up signs for in the bathrooms of restaurants reminding employees to NOT spread their bathroom germs on other people's food? WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL MY BABY?!?!?!?!"
We were only 2 steps away when Josh and I looked at each other and shuddered.
That's why we can't leave the house until April.
And that's why my bananas smell like wet wipes.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
My Lactation Lady can kick your Lactation Lady's BOOTY.
I was nervous about telling Lactation Lady the truth about breastfeeding because I was scared she'd be a boob nazi and insist that I try harder and not give up so soon.
But I had to talk to her because I needed to return the breast pump (aka "satan in disguise" and not a very good one) to her and I knew she'd ask.
I started thinking of all the things I could say that would be true but wouldn't really require the whole truth. And more importantly, things that would leave her with the impression that I was fixed and everything was working fine.
Phrases like "I'm going to keep breastfeeding as much as possible." and "I'm still taking the herbs." and "Thanks so much for offering the great advice so I could increase my milk supply" were on my approved list of things to say.
Phrases like "over my dead body." and "1/4 ounce after 15 minutes of pumping after 50 minutes of sucking just isn't worth it when my child is still hungry." and "I'm not doing that anymore." and "Formula probably has more nutrients than my pathetic excuse for milk anyway" were on my list of things NOT to say.
I was relieved when she wasn't there when I went to return the breast pump.
I was stressed when the phone rang and Josh said "Hi Sonya, thanks for calling......sure.....she's right here." But for some unknown reason, I told her the truth.
I was relieved again when she said "I think it's great that you've done the things that can help and even greater that you're OK with using formula. I always feel bad when new moms are a basket case because breastfeeding isn't working for them but they feel guilty about using formula." Thank goodness she didn't see the breakdown.
I was relieved more when she said, "Yep, I think you've made a great decision, a lot of people try to force it and they wind up making themselves crazy and still not feeding their children."
I wanted to kiss the ground she walked on when she said, "I understand completely."
My Lactation Lady is the best Lactation Lady there ever was. No doubt about it.
But I had to talk to her because I needed to return the breast pump (aka "satan in disguise" and not a very good one) to her and I knew she'd ask.
I started thinking of all the things I could say that would be true but wouldn't really require the whole truth. And more importantly, things that would leave her with the impression that I was fixed and everything was working fine.
Phrases like "I'm going to keep breastfeeding as much as possible." and "I'm still taking the herbs." and "Thanks so much for offering the great advice so I could increase my milk supply" were on my approved list of things to say.
Phrases like "over my dead body." and "1/4 ounce after 15 minutes of pumping after 50 minutes of sucking just isn't worth it when my child is still hungry." and "I'm not doing that anymore." and "Formula probably has more nutrients than my pathetic excuse for milk anyway" were on my list of things NOT to say.
I was relieved when she wasn't there when I went to return the breast pump.
I was stressed when the phone rang and Josh said "Hi Sonya, thanks for calling......sure.....she's right here." But for some unknown reason, I told her the truth.
I was relieved again when she said "I think it's great that you've done the things that can help and even greater that you're OK with using formula. I always feel bad when new moms are a basket case because breastfeeding isn't working for them but they feel guilty about using formula." Thank goodness she didn't see the breakdown.
I was relieved more when she said, "Yep, I think you've made a great decision, a lot of people try to force it and they wind up making themselves crazy and still not feeding their children."
I wanted to kiss the ground she walked on when she said, "I understand completely."
My Lactation Lady is the best Lactation Lady there ever was. No doubt about it.
Good Friday
Visits to the Dr. (7 pounds! yay!) And to work.
Visits from Grandma
And Great Grandma
Learning new tricks
And cuddling
And pumpkin carving
And applying new tricks (yes his fingers are INSIDE the pacifier)
Showing off long legs
And having yummy treats.
That's what Good Fridays are made of.
Eat your heart out Aundrea.
The new normal
We're slowly adjusting and trying to get used to a new version of "normal". Some things that may never go back to the old normal are:
- Swaying. All the time. I do it in the shower, in the middle of the night, when I'm standing in front of the fridge looking for something to eat (sorry mom, I still do that), while I'm blow drying my hair, and the Wii fit thinks there's something wrong with my balancing skills. The Wii Fit also thinks I'm ".....incredible! you met your goal before your deadline!" and thinks my body is only 20 years old. She knows nothing.
- Playing with my boobs. I'm not even going to start on how many hours a day I spend massaging, rubbing, squeezing, and pinching my boobs. Let's just say they haven't seen this much action since....ever.
- Time of day = number of feedings. I can tell you what time of day it is by how many times I've fed the child. I also count through the long nights in feedings. "OK, just 2 more feedings until Josh will wake up and help me." and "1 feeding before bedtime." are common thoughts in my head.
- Sitting the back seat. I honestly think that before Thomas was born I'd never sat in the backseat of the car before. Since he was born I haven't sat in the front. Update: I sat in front yesterday. I hated it. Will I ever get over this? What will I do when Josh is gone and I have to drive the car instead of watch Thomas sit in his carseat just in case he needs something. I suppose I'll learn - but only because I HAVE to.
- One-handedness. I can do almost anything with 1 hand. I'm more talented than I ever knew.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
First Bath
Since the cord fell off (thank goodness!) we got to give Thomas his first real bath on Tuesday.
Well....he didn't hate it. He didn't scream or cry or whine or kick or flail or beat us. Those are all good signs.
My mom would (sarcastically) say that he was positively frantic. Or delighted. Or he could hardly contain his joy. Or some other very strong positive adjective or phrase.
Well....he didn't hate it. He didn't scream or cry or whine or kick or flail or beat us. Those are all good signs.
My mom would (sarcastically) say that he was positively frantic. Or delighted. Or he could hardly contain his joy. Or some other very strong positive adjective or phrase.
I'd post the video, but really it looks exactly the same, only it's 30 seconds longer.
I won't lie, I was kindof hoping for a reaction a little more.....active.
Sugarhouse Park
Today we enjoyed fall.
It was unintentional really.
Spontaneous.
Beautiful.
Very "Josh and Amy 3 years ago". You know....before we had shows to watch, and sitting around to do.
We had to go to the library to return some books, and to get more children's books. Turns out we only have a few....not 12,000. Josh and Thomas have a lot of reading to do and Thomas isn't really into The Continuous Atonement.
On our way back to the freeway we got distracted by Sugarhouse Park.
How could we not stop? So we went for a very short walk. Took a quick picture (to prove that we're still fun.)
...and let Thomas crunch his first autumn leaves.
He was ecstatic.
If you ask me (you didn't, but you're reading this, so you have to pretend to be interested) it was the perfect afternoon. The weather was beautiful, the company was incredible, the baby happy, the husband wildly attractive, the leaves crunchy, the park green (and red and yellow) and the afternoon delightful. I love days like this.
I love fall and we almost missed it!
It was unintentional really.
Spontaneous.
Beautiful.
Very "Josh and Amy 3 years ago". You know....before we had shows to watch, and sitting around to do.
We had to go to the library to return some books, and to get more children's books. Turns out we only have a few....not 12,000. Josh and Thomas have a lot of reading to do and Thomas isn't really into The Continuous Atonement.
On our way back to the freeway we got distracted by Sugarhouse Park.
How could we not stop? So we went for a very short walk. Took a quick picture (to prove that we're still fun.)
...and let Thomas crunch his first autumn leaves.
He was ecstatic.
If you ask me (you didn't, but you're reading this, so you have to pretend to be interested) it was the perfect afternoon. The weather was beautiful, the company was incredible, the baby happy, the husband wildly attractive, the leaves crunchy, the park green (and red and yellow) and the afternoon delightful. I love days like this.
I love fall and we almost missed it!
The truth about breastfeeding (dun duh duhhhhhhh!!!!!)
I'm really glad that God sent me to a family with sisters.
When my water broke I called Katy and asked her if my water really broke (partly because google didn't really know) she said it did. She was right. I probably wouldn't have gone to the hospital if I hadn't talked to her. My appointment with Dr. Man was the next day at 2:30 in the afternoon and I sorta figured I'd just talk to him about it then. Thomas was born at 2:19 the next day. Waiting for the Dr. appointment would have been a bad choice.
When my boobs weren't making milk I called Sarah and asked her what was wrong. Of course she could only tell me her experience, but it turns out that her experience feels exactly like mine.
When my milk came in I told my mom that my colostrum was getting watery. She told me that's because it was milk not colostrum.
And by "my milk came in" I mean "after squeezing and playing and pinching so I could to get the kid to latch on I was able to express almost a whole drop of fluid." I still haven't felt "full" or engorged or really even productive forget about leaking milk everywhere.
I spend 15-20 minutes pumping with the super-duper heavy-duty $1800 hospital pump and get a combined 1/4 -1/2 ounce of milk if I'm lucky. Sometimes I get nothing. Baby Thomas will eat suck for 30 minutes at a time, but I sortof don't think he's getting anything after the first 5 minutes. That's because when I pump I can see the milk coming out. Usually it's like 5-10 productive sucks then 20-30 unproductive sucks. But that's only for the first 5 minutes. After that it's nothing. He's just sucking because it's so dang much fun for everyone involved. He is always still starving after sucking for at least 30 minutes (usually more like 45 or an hour).
The milk I do get is the thickness of watered down soy milk.
Compare that with someone like Lindsey who has so much milk she needs to buy a deep freezer. Me? I literally spent 15 minutes trying to figure out how to get the 3 drops of spilt milk off my counter and into a bottle for him to be able to eat. Because those 3 drops were a big difference to me.
So, to every Lactation Consultant who will tell me that it's "just supply/demand" I say "mmhmmm.....and so is the price of gas." (snicker snicker snort - I'm so funny.)
Fortunately Lactation Lady never said any such thing. She's really supportive of anything I want to do and I don't feel like she'll tell me I'm a bad mom for using formula. And I'm not.
I'm not giving up, or quitting, and I know it's only been 2 weeks. But I'm no longer going to spend 2 of every 3 hours trying to feed my baby. I'm not going to invest in a $300 pump to try to suck 3 drops out of my boobs. I'm not going to deprive myself and my baby of a much needed good night's sleep. And I'm certainly not going to starve my child (I promised him I would never let him starve during my major emotional breakdown).
What I am going to do is give the kid a bottle when he's hungry and sick of sucking on my dry boobs. I am going to enjoy feeding him. I am going to hold him while I feed him and tell him that I love him. I am going to watch Josh feed him and remember that my baby is loved by his daddy. I am going to enjoy the freedom that comes in the form of a bottle of formula. (Josh, your turn to feed the kid, I'm going on a walk.) I am going to remember that the formula probably has more nutrients than my particular brand of water-milk. I am going to breastfeed him when I have something to give, but I will not deprive my child of food because I want my body to provide him with everything he needs.
And all of that is fine by me.
When my water broke I called Katy and asked her if my water really broke (partly because google didn't really know) she said it did. She was right. I probably wouldn't have gone to the hospital if I hadn't talked to her. My appointment with Dr. Man was the next day at 2:30 in the afternoon and I sorta figured I'd just talk to him about it then. Thomas was born at 2:19 the next day. Waiting for the Dr. appointment would have been a bad choice.
When my boobs weren't making milk I called Sarah and asked her what was wrong. Of course she could only tell me her experience, but it turns out that her experience feels exactly like mine.
When my milk came in I told my mom that my colostrum was getting watery. She told me that's because it was milk not colostrum.
And by "my milk came in" I mean "after squeezing and playing and pinching so I could to get the kid to latch on I was able to express almost a whole drop of fluid." I still haven't felt "full" or engorged or really even productive forget about leaking milk everywhere.
I spend 15-20 minutes pumping with the super-duper heavy-duty $1800 hospital pump and get a combined 1/4 -1/2 ounce of milk if I'm lucky. Sometimes I get nothing. Baby Thomas will eat suck for 30 minutes at a time, but I sortof don't think he's getting anything after the first 5 minutes. That's because when I pump I can see the milk coming out. Usually it's like 5-10 productive sucks then 20-30 unproductive sucks. But that's only for the first 5 minutes. After that it's nothing. He's just sucking because it's so dang much fun for everyone involved. He is always still starving after sucking for at least 30 minutes (usually more like 45 or an hour).
The milk I do get is the thickness of watered down soy milk.
Compare that with someone like Lindsey who has so much milk she needs to buy a deep freezer. Me? I literally spent 15 minutes trying to figure out how to get the 3 drops of spilt milk off my counter and into a bottle for him to be able to eat. Because those 3 drops were a big difference to me.
So, to every Lactation Consultant who will tell me that it's "just supply/demand" I say "mmhmmm.....and so is the price of gas." (snicker snicker snort - I'm so funny.)
Fortunately Lactation Lady never said any such thing. She's really supportive of anything I want to do and I don't feel like she'll tell me I'm a bad mom for using formula. And I'm not.
I'm not giving up, or quitting, and I know it's only been 2 weeks. But I'm no longer going to spend 2 of every 3 hours trying to feed my baby. I'm not going to invest in a $300 pump to try to suck 3 drops out of my boobs. I'm not going to deprive myself and my baby of a much needed good night's sleep. And I'm certainly not going to starve my child (I promised him I would never let him starve during my major emotional breakdown).
What I am going to do is give the kid a bottle when he's hungry and sick of sucking on my dry boobs. I am going to enjoy feeding him. I am going to hold him while I feed him and tell him that I love him. I am going to watch Josh feed him and remember that my baby is loved by his daddy. I am going to enjoy the freedom that comes in the form of a bottle of formula. (Josh, your turn to feed the kid, I'm going on a walk.) I am going to remember that the formula probably has more nutrients than my particular brand of water-milk. I am going to breastfeed him when I have something to give, but I will not deprive my child of food because I want my body to provide him with everything he needs.
And all of that is fine by me.
Lessons in Motherhood: Laundry
When I got married my laundry loads quadrupled. Suddenly I had all of my clothes, all of Josh's clothes and about 10 times the whites I had before. I thought I'd never do more laundry in my life.
I was wrong.
Now the way I do laundry has totally changed.
I used to be the laundry-sorting nazi (according to Josh). I did different loads for lights, darks, nice lights, nice darks, whites, towels, cleaning rags, denim and delicates (also according to color). Then there are special loads, like sheets. Nothing goes with sheets, except more sheets. And massage sheets don't go with bed sheets because they have oil on them.
Josh thought there were two loads. Stuff with white on it (lights), and stuff with no white on it (darks). I made him promise to not start loads of laundry until he learned how to sort it properly or waited for me to sort it first. He has been kind enough to comply.
Now I'm sorting my laundry by what kind of dirty it is. "Covered in bodily fluids" (bodily fluids includes pee, poop, spit up, barf, drool and milk) and "not". It doesn't matter what it is, towels, blankets, shirts, burp cloths, denim, onesies, work clothes, play clothes, sheets......
Guess which one I do at least 1 load of every day.
If you guessed "not" you probably have no babies. There are currently 2 articles of laundry that have avoided the bodily fluids - my bathrobe and our bedsheets.
I was wrong.
Now the way I do laundry has totally changed.
I used to be the laundry-sorting nazi (according to Josh). I did different loads for lights, darks, nice lights, nice darks, whites, towels, cleaning rags, denim and delicates (also according to color). Then there are special loads, like sheets. Nothing goes with sheets, except more sheets. And massage sheets don't go with bed sheets because they have oil on them.
Josh thought there were two loads. Stuff with white on it (lights), and stuff with no white on it (darks). I made him promise to not start loads of laundry until he learned how to sort it properly or waited for me to sort it first. He has been kind enough to comply.
Now I'm sorting my laundry by what kind of dirty it is. "Covered in bodily fluids" (bodily fluids includes pee, poop, spit up, barf, drool and milk) and "not". It doesn't matter what it is, towels, blankets, shirts, burp cloths, denim, onesies, work clothes, play clothes, sheets......
Guess which one I do at least 1 load of every day.
If you guessed "not" you probably have no babies. There are currently 2 articles of laundry that have avoided the bodily fluids - my bathrobe and our bedsheets.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
2 down....
Josh came in to kiss me goodbye at 9:30. He's off to clean his grandma's garage. I TOLD you he was going crazy. It's almost 3, he said he's be gone just a couple of hours....I hope he didn't decide he likes dirty old garages better than us. How can he resist this?
Monday, October 19, 2009
Things that must go
- The umbilical cord stub. The big nasty bloody scab is freaking me out. Plus, it's the only thing standing between us and a real live splashing-swimming, warm-water-everywhere, bubbles-on-the-nose bath.
- Breakfast at noon. I want my breakfast before lunch please.
- Maternity clothes. My real jeans fit, my real shirts look horrible, but they fit cover me and I'm packing up the maternity clothes. Just as soon as I can find a spare 10 minutes to fold both pairs of shorts and all 5 shirts. You wouldn't think it would be so hard....
- Formula coming out the nose when Thomas spits up. Can't handle that.
- Daddy. He's going stir crazy and I'm afraid if he stays home one more day he might be as crazy as I am. It would be a bad thing.
- Non-nursing garments. How does anybody nurse modestly....ever? I go in the other room and pull my shirt and all accompanying layers way up under my chin....NOT gonna happen in the mother's room at church.
- Hormones. I'm tired of crying, my eyes hurt, my nose is sick of being blown and I'm seriously concerned about Josh leaving me.
Rough night
It was a rough night.
Thanks to Aunt Nancy I sorta think the cheesecake brownies I ate upset Tommy's stomach - a thought I wouldn't even have considered if she hadn't mentioned it happening to her.
Thomas was up most of the night, he was tired, or hungry, or poopy, or wet, or mad, or hungry, or too tired to eat, or too poopy to let me change his diaper, or too cold, or too hot, or bitter, or angry, or SOMETHING. Too bad I don't know which of those things it was....maybe I could've done something for him.
Every time I ask this kid what's wrong he screams and shakes his head "no" violently. I wonder if that means he doesn't wanna talk about it.
He screamed in his bed, he screamed if I held him, he screamed if I tried to feed him, he screamed if I walked into the other room, he screamed until I gave him a bottle of formula. Then he choked and swallowed and gulped until I thought he was going to drown himself and took it away. Then he screamed some more and acted like he was starving.
Really he probably only cried for 15 minutes at a time, but it felt longer. And he did it over and over all night long - sleeping for no more than 10 minutes in between.
This morning he is completely wiped out.
Me too.
10 Days
Baby Thomas is due tomorrow and already we've survived 10 days. Not bad if you ask me. :)
And in no particular order, here is my top 10 list of happy things from the past 10 days:
And in no particular order, here is my top 10 list of happy things from the past 10 days:
- Thomas has a habit of peeing every time we take off his diaper. He's peed on the window, the changing table, me, Josh, the Bumbo, the Boppy, and virtually every article of clothing he owns. But yesterday topped it all because he peed on his own face.
Josh was changing him when he started pooping (have you ever actually seen a human being poop? I hadn't, it's odd.) so I came in to help (see "3 man village" post) while I was scrambling for another diaper to put under his butt while he pooped (the dirty one was already full of poop (Did you know babies poop more than their birthweight every day? OK I made that up, but I can't imagine that it's not true.)) and suddenly there was pee everywhere. Mostly on Thomas's face. The look of shock and horror on his face was priceless. If you could read his mind you'd probably see thoughts like "ew. what is that?" and "rude! I can't believe they're laughing." and "get it off! get it off!" running through it. - Thomas was only like 3 days old when he first did Josh's crookedy smile. Every time he does it I fall in love with both of them all over again.
- A walk to the park counts as "productive" for the day. Forget about laundry, dusting, dishes, cooking, cleaning, paying bills, and being a grown up. We get to cuddle and play all day every day.
- Josh likes to remind Thomas that he's lucky. He's always responding to Thomas when I tell him what's in store. Me: "OK Thomas, we're gonna change your diaper and you're probably gonna hate it." (I use the same voice I'd use if I told him we were having candy and popsicles for dinner and sliding down rainbows on a sunshiny day for dessert. It's not about what you're saying, it's about HOW you say it!) Josh: "You lucky boy!" (You just have to hear him say it sometime, it's adorable.)
- Josh at home all day every day. I can't imagine him going back to work - trying to imagine both of us going back to work and leaving this child with someone else makes me lose it every time. Anybody wanna pay both of us to sit around at home playing with our baby all day every day? Please?
- I've only showered before noon twice since we got home from the hospital. Please don't visit before noon unannounced.
- While we were in the hospital the nursery nurses were wheeling a screaming baby down the hall just as Josh was going to the desk to fax some paperwork to his office. He commented to the nurses that they sure had one mad child. Then they stopped in front of our door and we realized that was our mad child. The nurses had tried everything to calm him down and couldn't get him to stop crying, so Josh picked him up and handed him to me so I could feed him. As soon as I held him he quieted down. He wasn't interested in food, just me. It hasn't happened since then, but that was enough for me to know that he loves me.
- Thomas sleeps really well at night - he'll wake up every 3 hours for me to feed him then go back to sleep. Usually.
- When he's mad and screaming he clenches his fists. If my fingers are in the right place at the right time he's squeeze with all of his strength (more than you'd expect). I love holding hands with him.
- Josh sings and reads more than he ever has in his life.
He sings to Thomas, he sings made up lyrics to "You Are My Sunshine" he sings Disney songs and Primary songs. He sings in the shower, the living room, the car, the bedroom, and everywhere else. I love it.
My mom said that by the time a child enters school they should have had 12,000 books read to them (1 per day) and Josh has taken it very seriously. I cried listening to him read "Love You Forever." I also cried when Josh asked if I wanted some scrambled eggs....me crying doesn't really mean anything. But it is sweet.
It's been a good 10 days.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
A 3-man village
I can't do anything alone.
The days that my mom was here she kept saying "it takes a village...." and she's right. For a couple of days that village was Josh, my mom and me.
It took a village to get Thomas to latch on. All three of us standing around my open boobs trying to figure out why the screaming baby with a mouthful of milky nipple wasn't sucking. Incidentally, my milk supply seems to be up. The herbs I'm taking are fenugreek and blessed thistle. Still pumping, still supplementing, but headed in the right direction it seems.
It took a village to go to the pediatrician. My mom just happened to be here when we went the 2nd time and the 3 of us walked in with 1 baby. Josh carried the carseat and Thomas. Mom carried the diaper bag. I carried the purse and signed the papers. All 3 of us got him dressed and undressed. Twice. All 3 of us helped change his diaper in between weighings. All 3 of us were necessary at this appointment. Josh is pretty sure the first weigh in where Thomas was declared 6 lbs even was wrong. He swears he saw the scale and it said 6 lbs 5.9 oz. That makes a lot more sense than Thomas gaining 1/2 lb in 1 day.
It took a village to change the diapers. Josh and I teamed up on the kid for the first couple of days. We're getting to be pros now (especially Josh) but for the first little while we were glad to have 4 hands against his 2 legs and 1 overactive wienie. Since I have a baby boy, I'm allowed to say "wienie" right? I say uterus, cervix, boob and nipple, so wienie is no worse.....right?
It took a village to take my pills. with 30-something pills per day to remember, Josh and my mom were constantly asking if I was ready for more drugs.
It took a village to watch the baby. Of course we had to stand in line for a turn, but we each got our turn to watch him sleep, identify all of his body parts, "oh....look at his little tiny fingers!" and try to decide who he looks like Thomas. He just looks like Thomas.
All of the in between moments have been made up of other incredibly kind "village members"; phone calls, visits, e-mails, meals, stranger lady who didn't make fun of us at the park, and Dr.'s have made the first week of Baby Thomas's life a smashing success.
It does take a village to raise a child, and I'm glad my village is made up of the greatest people there are.
The days that my mom was here she kept saying "it takes a village...." and she's right. For a couple of days that village was Josh, my mom and me.
It took a village to get Thomas to latch on. All three of us standing around my open boobs trying to figure out why the screaming baby with a mouthful of milky nipple wasn't sucking. Incidentally, my milk supply seems to be up. The herbs I'm taking are fenugreek and blessed thistle. Still pumping, still supplementing, but headed in the right direction it seems.
It took a village to go to the pediatrician. My mom just happened to be here when we went the 2nd time and the 3 of us walked in with 1 baby. Josh carried the carseat and Thomas. Mom carried the diaper bag. I carried the purse and signed the papers. All 3 of us got him dressed and undressed. Twice. All 3 of us helped change his diaper in between weighings. All 3 of us were necessary at this appointment. Josh is pretty sure the first weigh in where Thomas was declared 6 lbs even was wrong. He swears he saw the scale and it said 6 lbs 5.9 oz. That makes a lot more sense than Thomas gaining 1/2 lb in 1 day.
It took a village to change the diapers. Josh and I teamed up on the kid for the first couple of days. We're getting to be pros now (especially Josh) but for the first little while we were glad to have 4 hands against his 2 legs and 1 overactive wienie. Since I have a baby boy, I'm allowed to say "wienie" right? I say uterus, cervix, boob and nipple, so wienie is no worse.....right?
It took a village to take my pills. with 30-something pills per day to remember, Josh and my mom were constantly asking if I was ready for more drugs.
It took a village to watch the baby. Of course we had to stand in line for a turn, but we each got our turn to watch him sleep, identify all of his body parts, "oh....look at his little tiny fingers!" and try to decide who he looks like Thomas. He just looks like Thomas.
All of the in between moments have been made up of other incredibly kind "village members"; phone calls, visits, e-mails, meals, stranger lady who didn't make fun of us at the park, and Dr.'s have made the first week of Baby Thomas's life a smashing success.
It does take a village to raise a child, and I'm glad my village is made up of the greatest people there are.
Normal
Aundrea swears that even though "normal" will never be the same again, one day we'll get up and this new version of "normal" will actually feel normal. I can't really imagine this feeling normal, but I'm sure she's right. She always is.
Evidence that we're slowly getting more "normal" each day includes:
Evidence that we're slowly getting more "normal" each day includes:
- I peed and it didn't hurt. That's a big deal.
- My google reader is back down to zero unread.
- Yesterday Josh, Thomas and I went on a walk and played on the playground at the elementary school. This playground rocks. We'll be back.
- I had to use face lotion for the first time in a couple of months. My face turned into an oil factory there for a while, and now I'm thankful for my regular dry skin to be back.
- Josh went to get a massage today.
- At night I roll over onto my stomach to reach Thomas.
- Earrings. I'm wearing earrings for the first time in a week.
- If we're having dinner tomorrow, I'm cooking it. It's been fabulous having people wait on us hand and foot (thank you!) and if I'm being honest I still have some freezer meals from our moms...but since we'll be home all day tomorrow with nothing to do but feed the baby....maybe I'll cook!
- Currently Josh is playing Super Smash Brothers and I am blogging - what's more normal than that?
Friday, October 16, 2009
Some pictures
I'm amazed at how much having a baby makes me want my mommy. Fortunately she's had the week off work and has been willing to come spend days with me. I'm just that kind of lucky.
My mom held him just like this for roughly 3 hours last night. I napped.
Mom Reilley has been staying away as much as possible because she's had a bit of a cold. Considering that this is her first grandchild, there really aren't words to describe the kind of sacrifice this is.
Tommy and I are madly in love with each other.
Our love for each other is surpassed only by our love for Josh. We have good taste in men.
This is my angel baby sleeping in the morningtime. Could he possibly be more perfect?
We love to hold hands.
6 ounces?!?!?!
This weigh in was a bigger deal than anything. Ever. Bigger than weigh in day for wrestlers when everybody walked around in sweats and hoodies spitting into paper cups while it was 100 degrees outside. It was bigger than the final weigh in on The Biggest Loser. It was bigger than....well...anything.
He was 6 lbs 14 oz at birth, 6 lbs 4 oz when we left the hospital, and 6 lbs 0 oz when we went to the Dr. on Wednesday.
We were hoping he'd be at least 6 lbs 1 oz when we weighed him yesterday because that would mean he's gaining and that's the goal.
We stripped him down to his diaper which he LOVES and put him on the scale screaming. The lights flashed at 6 lbs 7 ounces. (pretend this is a movie and it makes the rewind sound zrrttt!) 6 lbs 7 ounces?!?!?! Dude! I looked at the nurse and said "is that bad?" she didn't say. She just said she was going to talk to Dr. Lady and she'd be back.
Meanwhile Dr. Lady's associate Dr. Other Lady was evesdropping and said: "Did you just say 7 ounces in one day? There's no way that's right."
We reviewed the facts again.
Me: "6 pounds yesterday, 6 and 7 today. Isn't that 7 ounces?" I wasn't trying to be rude, just honestly wondering what on earth had happened.
Dr. OL: "Yep. That's 7 ounces, what did you put in his diaper - lead?" ha ha ha ha ha ha I think only Dr.'s get other Dr.'s jokes....
Me: "It was dry when I checked it, but that was more than 30 seconds ago....shall we check it again?"
Dr. OL: "Yes. Then come over to the other scale, I bet you were on a different scale yesterday."
This is when Tommy started to cry because everybody was discounting all of his hard work. He and I said lots of prayers together and had lots of encouraging talks about how important it was that he gain weight before the big weigh in. We had a pep talk on our way into the Dr.'s office and he worked really hard to gain every ounce of that weight. And here we all were saying it wasn't possible, there was no way, and pretending it hadn't really happened. Rude.
We stripped him down again, changed his mostly dry diaper to a new dry diaper and walked him over to the other scale. He screamed on that scale too. I swear someone was doing a drumroll while we waited for the numbers to show up.
Me: "6 pounds 6.3 ounces!"
Thomas: "See? I TOLD you I was working hard!" My child is an angel.
Dr. OL: "Wow! Really? Wow!"
The nurse went off to talk to Dr. Lady again and let us get him dressed and buckled up. When she came back she relayed the message from Dr. Lady. "Great. Glad he's gaining weight. We'll see you at the 2 week appointment."
And just like that everything was fine.
People losing 200 pounds in 4 months has NOTHIN' on me.
He was 6 lbs 14 oz at birth, 6 lbs 4 oz when we left the hospital, and 6 lbs 0 oz when we went to the Dr. on Wednesday.
We were hoping he'd be at least 6 lbs 1 oz when we weighed him yesterday because that would mean he's gaining and that's the goal.
We stripped him down to his diaper which he LOVES and put him on the scale screaming. The lights flashed at 6 lbs 7 ounces. (pretend this is a movie and it makes the rewind sound zrrttt!) 6 lbs 7 ounces?!?!?! Dude! I looked at the nurse and said "is that bad?" she didn't say. She just said she was going to talk to Dr. Lady and she'd be back.
Meanwhile Dr. Lady's associate Dr. Other Lady was evesdropping and said: "Did you just say 7 ounces in one day? There's no way that's right."
We reviewed the facts again.
Me: "6 pounds yesterday, 6 and 7 today. Isn't that 7 ounces?" I wasn't trying to be rude, just honestly wondering what on earth had happened.
Dr. OL: "Yep. That's 7 ounces, what did you put in his diaper - lead?" ha ha ha ha ha ha I think only Dr.'s get other Dr.'s jokes....
Me: "It was dry when I checked it, but that was more than 30 seconds ago....shall we check it again?"
Dr. OL: "Yes. Then come over to the other scale, I bet you were on a different scale yesterday."
This is when Tommy started to cry because everybody was discounting all of his hard work. He and I said lots of prayers together and had lots of encouraging talks about how important it was that he gain weight before the big weigh in. We had a pep talk on our way into the Dr.'s office and he worked really hard to gain every ounce of that weight. And here we all were saying it wasn't possible, there was no way, and pretending it hadn't really happened. Rude.
We stripped him down again, changed his mostly dry diaper to a new dry diaper and walked him over to the other scale. He screamed on that scale too. I swear someone was doing a drumroll while we waited for the numbers to show up.
Me: "6 pounds 6.3 ounces!"
Thomas: "See? I TOLD you I was working hard!" My child is an angel.
Dr. OL: "Wow! Really? Wow!"
The nurse went off to talk to Dr. Lady again and let us get him dressed and buckled up. When she came back she relayed the message from Dr. Lady. "Great. Glad he's gaining weight. We'll see you at the 2 week appointment."
And just like that everything was fine.
People losing 200 pounds in 4 months has NOTHIN' on me.
The breastfeeding plan
So the plan to solve the breastfeeding problem is this. Each time I feed Thomas I get the distinct pleasure of:
- Making sure he empties both sides. This actually means massaging my boobs the whole time. Apparently I'm looking for hidden milk. As if I'd know if I found it.... The truth is I feel stupid doing this, but whatever. Seems like a waste of getting felt up if you ask me.
- Use the Supplemental Nutritional System (SNS) to feed him another ounce of formula. The SNS is a horrible device. It's a syringe with a hose coming out of it. The hose goes into his mouth along with my nipple and he sucks the milk out of it. The point? He's stimulating my breasts while he's getting milk. The problems? The hose hurts the nipples. The baby gets irritated by the hose and breaks his latch every few minutes. The husband thinks it's fun to squirt formula out of the syringe.
- Pump for 15 minutes. You should see this. But because of my strict adherence to the law of modesty pride you never will. Unless you're my mommy. I get to hold the pumps up to me while I'm hooked up to the big hospital pump on wheels in my living room. It pumps and I sit there. Holding it and watching. 15 minutes has never seemed so long. In 15 minutes I pumped a whopping 1/4 ounce.
So, that combined with some herbs I'm taking (2 different herbs, 3 pills, 3 times a day) should increase my milk supply within a week.
The problem? This whole process generally takes about an hour (if all goes as it should) and we repeat every 3 hours. Sometimes I have time to shower in between. Yesterday we had time to go to the Dr. AND I helped Josh make the bed. Pretty impressive day huh?
Tender Moments
This morning our house was freezing and I could hardly get warm. I had just fed Thomas and figured that if I was cold he must be freezing. So I double wrapped him and pulled him into bed between Josh and I.
At 5:30 in the morning our neighborhood is pretty quiet, Tommy was awake, looking around and perfectly content with a full belly. He looked around, and I looked at him. Josh was sleeping in the background and we had our moment all by ourselves.
We stayed there until we both fell asleep and when I woke up with him next to me, sleeping soundly, his tiny little breaths barely loud enough to hear, but certainly big enough to see. I cried. But not the sobbing-breakdown-shaking-boogery-sniffling-choking cry which has become my constant companion. More like the "I'm so lucky I can't believe my life is this perfect"-silent-slow-single-teardrop-glistening-down-my-cheek cry.
This morning, all is right in the world.
At 5:30 in the morning our neighborhood is pretty quiet, Tommy was awake, looking around and perfectly content with a full belly. He looked around, and I looked at him. Josh was sleeping in the background and we had our moment all by ourselves.
We stayed there until we both fell asleep and when I woke up with him next to me, sleeping soundly, his tiny little breaths barely loud enough to hear, but certainly big enough to see. I cried. But not the sobbing-breakdown-shaking-boogery-sniffling-choking cry which has become my constant companion. More like the "I'm so lucky I can't believe my life is this perfect"-silent-slow-single-teardrop-glistening-down-my-cheek cry.
This morning, all is right in the world.
Emotional Breakdown Count: 5
It's funny how my brain sometimes works (or doesn't). When we got home from the Dr. and Lactation Lady visit and I spent the entire day crying not once did I consider that if my body didn't make milk I'd feed Thomas formula. I wasn't thinking "so we'll increase my milk supply or feed him formula" I was thinking "my body isn't making milk and my baby is starving because of it." I know it's not really logical, but that thought really didn't enter my mind and that's depressing.
Knowing that there is an alternative that doesn't end in heartbreaking death or destruction makes the whole thing seems less horrible.
I still feel like there's something wrong with me that needs to be "fixed" but at least I know my baby won't die because of it. Really there are a lot worse things wrong with me and Tommy and I will both be fine.
You'll also be glad to know that it's been 1 week since he came into our lives and so far the "major emotional breakdown" count is only like 5.
Sunday (the day we came home) I cried because I wanted my mommy and I didn't know what to do.
Monday my mommy came and spent the whole day and I cried because I still wanted my mommy. She was sitting no more than 10 feet away from me ALL DAY LONG. Why the tears?
Tuesday I cried because it hurts. Everything hurts. My back hurt, my uterus (which is quickly shrinking down to the size of a softball) hurt, my enormous cut hurt, my head hurt, my eyes hurt and my baby was beautiful.
Wednesday I cried because I'm broken and my baby was starving. Technically this breakdown lasted like 12 hours....I'm still counting it as 1.
Thursday (yesterday) I cried because my daddy came to see me in the middle of the day. That's because he loves me. And I still wanted my mommy.
So 5 breakdowns in a week isn't bad. Especially compared to Thomas who has at least 5 emotional breakdowns every other day.
All things considered I'd say we're doing pretty well.
Knowing that there is an alternative that doesn't end in heartbreaking death or destruction makes the whole thing seems less horrible.
I still feel like there's something wrong with me that needs to be "fixed" but at least I know my baby won't die because of it. Really there are a lot worse things wrong with me and Tommy and I will both be fine.
You'll also be glad to know that it's been 1 week since he came into our lives and so far the "major emotional breakdown" count is only like 5.
Sunday (the day we came home) I cried because I wanted my mommy and I didn't know what to do.
Monday my mommy came and spent the whole day and I cried because I still wanted my mommy. She was sitting no more than 10 feet away from me ALL DAY LONG. Why the tears?
Tuesday I cried because it hurts. Everything hurts. My back hurt, my uterus (which is quickly shrinking down to the size of a softball) hurt, my enormous cut hurt, my head hurt, my eyes hurt and my baby was beautiful.
Wednesday I cried because I'm broken and my baby was starving. Technically this breakdown lasted like 12 hours....I'm still counting it as 1.
Thursday (yesterday) I cried because my daddy came to see me in the middle of the day. That's because he loves me. And I still wanted my mommy.
So 5 breakdowns in a week isn't bad. Especially compared to Thomas who has at least 5 emotional breakdowns every other day.
All things considered I'd say we're doing pretty well.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
My first F minus
I was sortof a good student. Like I took geek classes and got what I thought were good grades (except in AP Calculus my Jr. Year. I was busy rebelling and getting a B- one term). School wasn't hard for me, and I liked to learn things, and I happen to think that it's partly because I'm a reasonably intelligent person.
But the older I get the harder things are.
The more I learn people can do, the more I realize I can't.
As I find more opportunities to try new things, I find more things that just don't come naturally.
Maybe this is natural, or maybe it's me getting a much needed lesson in humility.
Either way it hurts.
Today I think I got my very first failing grade and my heart hurts.
Thomas was 6 pounds 14 ounces when he was born. I did a good job at getting him here (nurses I've never met hear my name in the hall at the hospital and say "you're the one who pushed him out so fast huh?"
I did a good job getting the epidural.
I did a good job of having the worlds most adorable baby (half those genes are mine! I'm taking credit for half of his perfection).
I started healing "beautifully" according to Dr. Man's creepy associate to released me from the hospital.
I followed the directions.
I stayed off drugs as much as possible (because really, who wants to be drugged for the first days of their baby's life?).
But when we left the hospital, I stopped being good at everything. That was OK because I had Josh on my team and he's a natural.
Thomas loves Josh more than anyone in the whole wide world (for which I am truly grateful). Josh is the one who can get him to calm down when he's screaming in the middle of the night. Josh is the one who is brave enough to clip his fingernails. Josh is the one who can change his tar diaper when he's half asleep and has one hand tied behind his back. Josh is the one who isn't scared of dressing him. Josh is the perfect daddy and I love him for it. He's also the perfect husband catering to my every need, cleaning the house, taking care of details, running errands, and generally making sure that baby and I have the things we need to recover.
Unfortunately I can't turn over the feeding of our baby to Josh. I'm sure he would excel at it. Not me though.
For the first few days we had a really tough time getting Thomas to latch on. He'd scream and scream and flail his arms and kick and scream and pull back and scream. And then somehow he'd latch on just fine and eat for 30 minutes. But he never wanted to eat. I had to wake him up every 4 hours and force feed him. (Except at night when he'd wake up but refuse to eat.)
Monday evening my milk "came in" and I thought things would be much better.
Tuesday went really well, I fed Thomas a lot of times. He was looking for food more often rather than me smashing his face into my boob and begging him to suck. He latched on easier and sucked more naturally.
Today the Dr. wanted to see him again just to make sure the jaundice level went down. It did (thank goodness). But so did his weight.
He's down to 6 pounds now, which means he's lost too much and we have to go back again tomorrow to see if he's gained anything.
We headed to the lactation consultant right after the appointment because I had made the appointment back when he wasn't eating much at all.
He latched on right away, but got bored/tired of eating after only 5 minutes. Lactation Lady pulled him off and discovered that my milk was gone. I just don't have enough of it to feed him. Turns out he's been starving since the day he was born. I've been starving my baby for 5 days and didn't know it. Why? Because he's still a good kind happy beautiful baby. No thanks to me.
We talked about things to do, and left with a borrowed hospital pump, a list of herbs to get, and tears welling up in my eyes. Apparently it's pretty common when you have fertility problems to have milk supply problems.
I cried the whole way home.
We came in the house and I picked up Thomas went to bed and cried some more.
I told him I'm sorry, I'm trying. I wish I was better, I wish I had more. I didn't know he was so hungry. I didn't know I wasn't giving him enough. I haven't put him down since we got home. I sortof hope I never have to put him down again. Because maybe if I hold him and touch him and love him all day every day it will make up for the fact that I can't give him what he really needs.
I feel like I was just given a failing grade. The Pediatrician was disappointed in his weight loss, Lactation Lady was disappointed in my milk supply and probably in my ability to tell what my child needs. She also said that my breasts weren't "as firm as we like to see by now". Rude. I bet her breasts aren't so firm either....but at least I had the decency not to mention it. Lactation Lady and Pediatrician were very kind and optimistic, but the bottom line is that I'm not doing a good job at the only thing I'm responsible for. Feeding him.
When we couldn't have babies and my heart was breaking every single time we weren't pregnant (which was a lot of times) I felt like a complete failure. I felt like I had let Josh down and I was holding him back because the man was born to be a daddy and I was stopping him from having that. Here was the man I love more than anybody in the world and I couldn't give him the things he needed.
Now I feel like I'm letting Tommy down. This child is perfect in every way. He came to me complete and whole. He came with 100% working parts. He came brand new and in perfect condition. After 5 short days in my care he's broken. Dehydrated, tired, starving, but still doing everything he can to be the perfect child.
Once again I'm holding back one of the men I love most in the whole wide world. He can't grow and develop and become because of me. Because I'm broken. Because something I'm doing is wrong.
With any luck at all, I'll spend at least 22 of the next 24 hours feeding and pumping and pumping and feeding and not doing anything else. Except crying. Clearly my body has no trouble creating tears. Why can't that energy be used creating milk?
But the older I get the harder things are.
The more I learn people can do, the more I realize I can't.
As I find more opportunities to try new things, I find more things that just don't come naturally.
Maybe this is natural, or maybe it's me getting a much needed lesson in humility.
Either way it hurts.
Today I think I got my very first failing grade and my heart hurts.
Thomas was 6 pounds 14 ounces when he was born. I did a good job at getting him here (nurses I've never met hear my name in the hall at the hospital and say "you're the one who pushed him out so fast huh?"
I did a good job getting the epidural.
I did a good job of having the worlds most adorable baby (half those genes are mine! I'm taking credit for half of his perfection).
I started healing "beautifully" according to Dr. Man's creepy associate to released me from the hospital.
I followed the directions.
I stayed off drugs as much as possible (because really, who wants to be drugged for the first days of their baby's life?).
But when we left the hospital, I stopped being good at everything. That was OK because I had Josh on my team and he's a natural.
Thomas loves Josh more than anyone in the whole wide world (for which I am truly grateful). Josh is the one who can get him to calm down when he's screaming in the middle of the night. Josh is the one who is brave enough to clip his fingernails. Josh is the one who can change his tar diaper when he's half asleep and has one hand tied behind his back. Josh is the one who isn't scared of dressing him. Josh is the perfect daddy and I love him for it. He's also the perfect husband catering to my every need, cleaning the house, taking care of details, running errands, and generally making sure that baby and I have the things we need to recover.
Unfortunately I can't turn over the feeding of our baby to Josh. I'm sure he would excel at it. Not me though.
For the first few days we had a really tough time getting Thomas to latch on. He'd scream and scream and flail his arms and kick and scream and pull back and scream. And then somehow he'd latch on just fine and eat for 30 minutes. But he never wanted to eat. I had to wake him up every 4 hours and force feed him. (Except at night when he'd wake up but refuse to eat.)
Monday evening my milk "came in" and I thought things would be much better.
Tuesday went really well, I fed Thomas a lot of times. He was looking for food more often rather than me smashing his face into my boob and begging him to suck. He latched on easier and sucked more naturally.
Today the Dr. wanted to see him again just to make sure the jaundice level went down. It did (thank goodness). But so did his weight.
He's down to 6 pounds now, which means he's lost too much and we have to go back again tomorrow to see if he's gained anything.
We headed to the lactation consultant right after the appointment because I had made the appointment back when he wasn't eating much at all.
He latched on right away, but got bored/tired of eating after only 5 minutes. Lactation Lady pulled him off and discovered that my milk was gone. I just don't have enough of it to feed him. Turns out he's been starving since the day he was born. I've been starving my baby for 5 days and didn't know it. Why? Because he's still a good kind happy beautiful baby. No thanks to me.
We talked about things to do, and left with a borrowed hospital pump, a list of herbs to get, and tears welling up in my eyes. Apparently it's pretty common when you have fertility problems to have milk supply problems.
I cried the whole way home.
We came in the house and I picked up Thomas went to bed and cried some more.
I told him I'm sorry, I'm trying. I wish I was better, I wish I had more. I didn't know he was so hungry. I didn't know I wasn't giving him enough. I haven't put him down since we got home. I sortof hope I never have to put him down again. Because maybe if I hold him and touch him and love him all day every day it will make up for the fact that I can't give him what he really needs.
I feel like I was just given a failing grade. The Pediatrician was disappointed in his weight loss, Lactation Lady was disappointed in my milk supply and probably in my ability to tell what my child needs. She also said that my breasts weren't "as firm as we like to see by now". Rude. I bet her breasts aren't so firm either....but at least I had the decency not to mention it. Lactation Lady and Pediatrician were very kind and optimistic, but the bottom line is that I'm not doing a good job at the only thing I'm responsible for. Feeding him.
When we couldn't have babies and my heart was breaking every single time we weren't pregnant (which was a lot of times) I felt like a complete failure. I felt like I had let Josh down and I was holding him back because the man was born to be a daddy and I was stopping him from having that. Here was the man I love more than anybody in the world and I couldn't give him the things he needed.
Now I feel like I'm letting Tommy down. This child is perfect in every way. He came to me complete and whole. He came with 100% working parts. He came brand new and in perfect condition. After 5 short days in my care he's broken. Dehydrated, tired, starving, but still doing everything he can to be the perfect child.
Once again I'm holding back one of the men I love most in the whole wide world. He can't grow and develop and become because of me. Because I'm broken. Because something I'm doing is wrong.
With any luck at all, I'll spend at least 22 of the next 24 hours feeding and pumping and pumping and feeding and not doing anything else. Except crying. Clearly my body has no trouble creating tears. Why can't that energy be used creating milk?
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Delivery
There are a lot of things that went extraordinarily well with the delivery of baby Thomas.
- My water broke before the contractions were painful. In my book, this is good.
- We were the only ones in labor in the hospital all night long. We had the undivided attention of....everybody.
- Night Nurses were hilarious (one even had a cool accent) and a pleasure to be around. Somehow it's less annoying when they say "we're going to check you again" with a cool accent.
- Dr. Man decided that we could wait until morning to start the Pitocin. "Get a good night's sleep. It might be your last." I heart Dr. Man.
- When they gave me the epidural (at about 10am) it went in really easy. Nice Anesthesiologist told me she'd never seen anybody get in a more perfect position than I did. What can I say? I'm good at sitting.
- The epidural set in quickly and was quite effective. Nice Anesthesiologist kept asking if I was sure I couldn't feel anything. "This is the lowest dose I can give, so if you start feeling anything just let me know and we'll give you more." "Wow. you're really sensitive to this." "You still think you're numb?"
- Dr. Man walked through the doors about 10 seconds after they declared me "complete" (That sounds like a grade you get in school for a class that doesn't really matter...shouldn't they call it something cooler? I worked hard for that, way more work than showing up for badminton class.)
- I rock at pushing. Nice Anesthesiologist and Dr. Man told me so. After 2 sets of 3 pushes Thomas' head was delivered.
Other things didn't go so well.
- Thomas's heart rate dropped every time I turned on my left side or had a contraction.
- The inability to be on my left side means I had no epidural on that side. I started to feel contractions on that side which actually made me appreciate the epidural more than I would have.
- When they put me on my left side Thomas' heart rate dropped and 3 nurses and Nice Anesthesiologist stood staring at the monitor trying to figure out what to do.
- When Dr. Man came in announced that "this baby will be here within 5 minutes one way or the other." That was because of his heart rate. The nurses mentioned c-section if we couldn't push him out fast enough.
- Episiotomy. In Josh's words. "Whoa. That's gonna hurt tomorrow."
- When his head was delivered they confirmed that the cord was wrapped around his neck. Tight. Really tight. So tight that no blood was getting to him. Dr. Man could barely fit his finger under the cord so he could cut it. Fortunately Dr. Man is the best and handled it beautifully.
- When Dr. Man delivered the rest of Thomas there was so much blood built up in the cord that it squirted all over the room. Everywhere. I have a Thomas-blood spot on my purse.
- Thomas was freezing cold, his blood wasn't circulating, his heart rate still didn't get normal and he wasn't breathing, just panting. 30 minutes later he was still on oxygen.
An hour later his limbs were still purple.
- They only held him up in front of me for about 2 seconds before they took him off to the nursery to get all of that under control. Josh brought back pictures (above), and 2 hours later I finally got to meet my little guy.
The views I love the most
The hospital has some incredible views....these are just a few of my favorites.
Handsomest man on the planet.
I love my boys.
(I know you think this is weird....but when I look down at the top of his head laying on my chest....I melt.)
We are so loved.
This child loves me and that is a beautiful thing.
Pictures
Some pictures....because now we're home.
How could you possibly do anything other than love this baby all day every day?
My baby
Because we're still at the hospital, you have to wait for the 134 pictures we've taken so far, along with a 10,000 word essay regarding my feelings about giving birth. Lucky you.
But because I'm genuinely sorry that you don't get the pleasure of making eyes at this little one for 23 hours/day (hey you gotta sleep sometime!) you may go to my sister's blog to see how adorable he is while you wait.
What do you think - does he look a little like a glo-worm?
But because I'm genuinely sorry that you don't get the pleasure of making eyes at this little one for 23 hours/day (hey you gotta sleep sometime!) you may go to my sister's blog to see how adorable he is while you wait.
What do you think - does he look a little like a glo-worm?
Friday, October 9, 2009
Thomas Adam
He's here. Thomas was born at 2:19 pm. Weighing 6 lbs 14 oz and is 20 inches long.
Yep totally didn't pee my pants. Go me!
Yep totally didn't pee my pants. Go me!
Thursday, October 8, 2009
I'd like to thank the little people....
I don't usually win things. So I'm excited to show you what I won today!
This award is from my friend Noelle who only ever says nice things about me. That's just one reason we're friends.
I don't think she can even read my blog (something about it killing her internet...her computer hates me.....she has to wash her hair that night....she "already has plans but can't remember what they are"......) I'm not really sure what the deal is, but she loves me and gives me prizes anyway. Nice huh?
With this award I'm supposed to answer the following questions and then pass it on to 5 other blogs.
Here's the thing. I currently subscribe to 142 blogs. And I read them all. Every post. Every time. Are you freaked out yet? I'm watching you...... That's not counting the private blogs that I can't subscribe to and that I have to go check manually.
So picking just 5 is hard for me. It's only like 3% of the blogs I faithfully read. That's not counting the ones I read when I'm bored and just feel like stalking someone.
First I get to answer the questions while I think about this very serious decision.
Where is your cell phone? Josh just brought it to me from my purse because someone was calling. From a number I don't know. I didn't answer. It will probably sit right here on this desk for the next 2 days because it sat in my purse for the last 2 days. Completely unused. I'm bad at phones.
Your hair? Wait, where is my hair? On top of my head. Just something about my hair? Brown. I think if I put "where is" in front of all these questions it will be a stupid survey. I'm just going with the "something about" version. "Brown" is always a better answer.
Your mother? Brilliant. All knowing. Supportive.
Your father? Kind. Patient. Understanding. MINE.
Your favorite food? Pasta.
Your dream last night? It had to do with nursing and the hospital and something about a field of corn. I can't quite put it all together right now.
Your favorite drink? I drink water more than anything else, but if I'm going for something sweet, I love flavored lemonades.
Your dream/goal? To survive labor.
What room are you in? The living room.
Your hobby? I kinda don't have a hobby. I read, I blog-stalk, I blog.....
Your fear? Not being good enough
Where do you want to be in 6 years? In my living room with my babies (some of whom are old now) and my husband living happily ever after.
Where were you last night? In my room, pouting.
Something you aren't? Ready.
Muffins? OK Thanks.
Wish list item? A full night's sleep.
Where did you grow up? Lindon
Last thing you did? Peed my pants. Seriously, I stood up from the computer to get my camera and peed my pants. Or maybe my water broke. Or maybe that mucus thing happened. Or maybe I'm having the baby right now...must. continue. survey.....
What are you wearing? Clean clothes. Because I peed my pants.
Your TV? Not on....yet.
Your pets? Don't exist.
Your friends? Supportive, kind, interested, generous, GOOD.
Your life? Better together.
Your mood? Nervous....anxious...did my water just break? probably not. Did that mucus thing happen? The more I think about it the more I'm sure of it. Is that a contraction? Wait, it doesn't hurt...this can't be real. Am I having a baby soon?
Missing someone? Not particularly.
Vehicle? Red.
Something you're not wearing? Nylons, makeup, shoes, earrings....
Your favorite store? Target
Your favorite color? Blue. I've always said blue but I really might not have a favorite color....I'm not sure.
When was the last time you laughed? 10 minutes ago.
Last time you cried? Lunch
Your best friend? And handsome handsome hubby is named Josh.
One place that I go over and over? Dr. Man's office. Work. The kitchen.
One person who emails me regularly? Babycenter. Wanna know about Cord Blood Banking? Me neither.
Favorite place to eat? Olive Garden.
Now I pass this award on to the following people whose blogs I always love to read.
- Nancy. She's cool and adventurous (she lives in Egypt!) and her child is a genius and she's going to have a baby like me. Those are good reasons to love her. But my favorite reason to give her this award is that we've never met, but she blogs so well that I feel like we've been friends forever. Also because she makes me laugh out loud which is why I started stalking her in the first place.
- Katy. We've met. Lots. She's my sister and also one of the funniest people I know. Plus her kid is freakin' adorable. Also I think we're getting to be more and more alike - I hope it's because I'm turning into her, not the other way around.
- Aubrie. She makes as many lists as I do. She's as painfully honest as I am and she makes me feel less crazy. Plus she's nice, normal, down to earth, and genuinely good. You should read her stuff.
- Aundrea. What do you say about a person who spends more time with you than anyone else and somehow still manages to love you as much as anyone else? She is truly an angel. And she happens to be an excellent writer.
- Stick. She takes beautiful pictures of her beautiful children and she constantly makes me jealous of her life. She never complains, never has anything bad to say about anyone, and is one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. Or read. Whatever.
And with that, I'd like to thank the little people (hey, when you're this big everybody is "little people"), and my mom, and "the fans", and your mom, and the publishers, and the voters, and.........[picture me being dragged off the stage and now you know why I'm not famous. I talk too much and I'm kindof annoying.]
Now, if you'll excuse me I need to find out what exactly is happening with the child inside me. "BABY THOMAS!!! ARE YOU COMING OUT NOW?"
Now, if you'll excuse me I need to find out what exactly is happening with the child inside me. "BABY THOMAS!!! ARE YOU COMING OUT NOW?"
For lunch
When I'm having a day like this I'm really glad I can have this for lunch.
Because somehow that makes my husband the handsomest, kindest, gentlest, sweetest, most considerate, perfect-for-me, man on the planet. Clearly he transformed between last night and this afternoon. Because we all know I never change and my mood has nothing to do with how nice he is or isn't.
Which is great for me, because now I don't have to be a grouch anymore. I bet if I asked he'd even start the dishwasher.
Grouchy
It all started last night. And I'll try to tell you it's all Josh's fault. Because he's a lazy, good-for-nothing, sit-around-watching-stupid-tv, leaving-dishes-on-the-floor, not-catering-to-my-every-whim, make-me-do-the-laundry-by-myself, selfish, mean, out-to-get-me, spaghettios-can-leaving-outing, dirty-dish-creating, inconsiderate MAN.
But don't believe me. Sometimes I lie.
The truth is, I'm being unreasonable and I am completely aware of that. I actually slammed the door last night. I hate door slamming. But for some reason I still insist on being grouchy and tired and grouchy and worn down and grouchy and impatient and grouchy and rude and grouchy and mad and grouchy and hurt and grouchy and mean and intolerant and impatient and grouchy a couple more times today.
Only I'm not smiling this much and my hair is brown. Not green. And my unibrow is less......bushy. I hope. Heaven help me if it isn't.
In my defense: What's a girl supposed to do when her husband makes her wash ALL the dishes, fold the laundry AND finds Animal Planet more interesting than her?
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Pre-Baby List
There is still quite a list of things that have to happen before Baby Thomas can come - but it's growing shorter every day....
- Buy a crib? Check. It's beautiful.
- Take a nap? Check. Must check again and again.
- Take full advantage of "pregnancy cravings"? Check. (Ice cream and french fries for lunch today....mmmmm)
- Buy a Diaper Geenie or Diaper Champ or some kind of diaper disposal system. Any advice? NOT checked.
- Attend a 6 week course on "how to have a baby". Checking. One more week and we graduate. So far my favorite movie quote from this class is: "Most women can agree that labor contractions are uncomfortable; however, when you understand why you're going through this experience it can actually be a pleasant experience." Seriously. The lady said that. In her calm, soothing "breath out slowly" voice. Stupid lady. And who's the idiot who didn't agree that labor contractions are uncomfortable? Stupid lady.
- Clean every surface in the house, keep all laundry clean at all times (just in case), sanitize all clothing, toys and bedding. NOT checked. But it's all counting as one item on the list so I don't feel so bad about it.
- Attend one more baby shower with the baby in me. Scheduled for Saturday.
- Finish effacing, dilating, dropping, and start contracting seriously and regularly. Unfortunately this is all up to Baby Thomas and I have zero control over the situation.
As we get closer I know there are more things I need to do, but my instinct is to nap as much as possible because I know I'll never be able to again. I want to hibernate not nest. Is something wrong with me? What else am I missing? What things do you wish you did one more time before your life changed forever? Technically I still have 2 weeks, so I should be able to do a lot of "one more time" activities....
Monday, October 5, 2009
World's most expensive holiday
Yom Kippor.
Paint: $60
Brushes: $50
Tape: $50
Meals for 2 19 year old boys 3 nights in a row: $912. - They're still hungry.
1 week of not seeing my husband without paint on his face: priceless.
Paint: $60
Brushes: $50
Tape: $50
Meals for 2 19 year old boys 3 nights in a row: $912. - They're still hungry.
1 week of not seeing my husband without paint on his face: priceless.
Da Belly: 38 Weeks
And in the 38th week of the reign of the Thomas (hey...another reason to love the name Thomas is how royal it sounds. If he wants to grow up to be the king of something....or reign over something other than me, he totally can.) the mother did weep exceedingly for many reasons most of which cannot be adequately described.
But there were also lots of moments of loud laughter. One of which was due to the inflection of Josh's voice as he sat on the floor, looked up at me (and my belly) and said "Whoa. When did that happen?"
Wanna know what else happened in the 38th week?
I probably gained 5 pounds in each foot. They get huge (by the end of the day). So huge that Josh sticks his finger in them to make a dent and the dent sticks. I'm not talking like "you can still tell he poked it for the next 3 seconds if you look close and count the fact that it's lighter there than everywhere else" I'm talking like 2 minutes before the indent has popped back out to normal. I'm talking about swelling so big that my feet are bigger around than my calves (I measured). I'm talking about swelling that I makes me do a doubletake every time I catch a glimpse. I'd try to make a joke about a blimp or something, but the swelling may have moved to my brain and I can't think of anything.
Actually this week I really did start gaining some serious weight for the first time this pregnancy. Up until last week I had gained a whopping total of 6 pounds overall. Keep in mind I gained like 50 pounds in the 2 years we were trying to get pregnant....I'm calling that "baby weight" anyway. I'm pretty sure I gained 3 pounds just this weekend.
Baby Thomas took up break dancing. That's the only explanation for the constant head spins that seem to occupy so much of his time these days.
Today, for the first time ever I sorta feel like it wouldn't be the end of the world if he came now. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm ready. It's not like I have nothing left to do. It's just that if he decided he was done growing in there and he wanted to come now I wouldn't spend the next 20 years of his life wondering if it's my fault he's so screwed up because our house was such a mess. It'll be for some other reason instead. That's good progress right?
But there were also lots of moments of loud laughter. One of which was due to the inflection of Josh's voice as he sat on the floor, looked up at me (and my belly) and said "Whoa. When did that happen?"
It's funny because he was actually surprised. Genuinely shocked that I was "suddenly so huge". It's OK he still loves me.
Wanna know what else happened in the 38th week?
I probably gained 5 pounds in each foot. They get huge (by the end of the day). So huge that Josh sticks his finger in them to make a dent and the dent sticks. I'm not talking like "you can still tell he poked it for the next 3 seconds if you look close and count the fact that it's lighter there than everywhere else" I'm talking like 2 minutes before the indent has popped back out to normal. I'm talking about swelling so big that my feet are bigger around than my calves (I measured). I'm talking about swelling that I makes me do a doubletake every time I catch a glimpse. I'd try to make a joke about a blimp or something, but the swelling may have moved to my brain and I can't think of anything.
Actually this week I really did start gaining some serious weight for the first time this pregnancy. Up until last week I had gained a whopping total of 6 pounds overall. Keep in mind I gained like 50 pounds in the 2 years we were trying to get pregnant....I'm calling that "baby weight" anyway. I'm pretty sure I gained 3 pounds just this weekend.
Baby Thomas took up break dancing. That's the only explanation for the constant head spins that seem to occupy so much of his time these days.
Today, for the first time ever I sorta feel like it wouldn't be the end of the world if he came now. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm ready. It's not like I have nothing left to do. It's just that if he decided he was done growing in there and he wanted to come now I wouldn't spend the next 20 years of his life wondering if it's my fault he's so screwed up because our house was such a mess. It'll be for some other reason instead. That's good progress right?
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Threw off my groove or How I live in Spaghetti
Yesterday I decided to make breakfast casserole but had to go to the grocery store for a few* ingredients.
On my way out of Foxboro there was a "road closed to through traffic" sign in the roundabout. Instead of taking a different roundabout exit and leaving the neighborhood another way I knew, I drove past the sign and thought "I live here. I don't count as 'through traffic'."
Then I drove around another "closed to through traffic" sign. Because I live here!
Then another.
And then, to my shock, the road was CLOSED. Like closed closed. Not just "drive around the sign" closed but really closed. For some reason I was surprised. "What? They can do that?"
That's when I started to panic because "How the heck am I supposed to get out of here?" and I started taking random neighborhood roads. I blame Brigham Young for the fact that I think I can pick any road any road and get anywhere I want.
See 9,000 years ago when they settled in Salt Lake Brigham Young said: "Hey, lets make all the roads straight and wide so people can drive on them!" and they did.
Now, 9,000 years later I believe all roads go everywhere and if you miss your turn you just take the next one and backtrack later. That's because when the roads are square, you can do that.
(Want a visual? Go to maps.google.com and type in "200 S 300 E, Salt Lake City, UT". See the squares? See how every road goes through? See how when you zoom out all you get is more squares? Beautiful right? Thanks Brigham. OK now type in "Center Street, North Salt Lake, UT" and see the pile of spaghetti on the left side of the screen? That's what Foxboro looks like. (most of the chaos is not yet mapped, this is the best example I could find) None of the roads go through, and usually you come out somewhere 5 feet from where you started after driving through a mile of houses that look exactly alike. Except for the color/font of the "Welcome" vinyl lettering on the front door.)
For some reason my poor brain thought I needed to get out of the neighborhood as close to my regular exit as possible so I drove through these random neighborhoods not going anywhere for almost 5 minutes before realizing I could just go to the church and leave the neighborhood on that road.
Sometimes I have trouble obeying signs. And sometimes I have trouble doing things a different way than is normal. And sometimes I get lost in my own neighborhood. And sometimes I make the world's best breakfast casserole. Even if we don't eat until 11am.
Totally worth it.
*Somehow my mom NEVER had to go to the grocery store for anything. She always has everything she could possibly need in the kitchen or in food storage. I don't know how she does it. My list of "a few" groceries was a page long and had a lot to do with junk food for Conference.
On my way out of Foxboro there was a "road closed to through traffic" sign in the roundabout. Instead of taking a different roundabout exit and leaving the neighborhood another way I knew, I drove past the sign and thought "I live here. I don't count as 'through traffic'."
Then I drove around another "closed to through traffic" sign. Because I live here!
Then another.
And then, to my shock, the road was CLOSED. Like closed closed. Not just "drive around the sign" closed but really closed. For some reason I was surprised. "What? They can do that?"
That's when I started to panic because "How the heck am I supposed to get out of here?" and I started taking random neighborhood roads. I blame Brigham Young for the fact that I think I can pick any road any road and get anywhere I want.
See 9,000 years ago when they settled in Salt Lake Brigham Young said: "Hey, lets make all the roads straight and wide so people can drive on them!" and they did.
Now, 9,000 years later I believe all roads go everywhere and if you miss your turn you just take the next one and backtrack later. That's because when the roads are square, you can do that.
(Want a visual? Go to maps.google.com and type in "200 S 300 E, Salt Lake City, UT". See the squares? See how every road goes through? See how when you zoom out all you get is more squares? Beautiful right? Thanks Brigham. OK now type in "Center Street, North Salt Lake, UT" and see the pile of spaghetti on the left side of the screen? That's what Foxboro looks like. (most of the chaos is not yet mapped, this is the best example I could find) None of the roads go through, and usually you come out somewhere 5 feet from where you started after driving through a mile of houses that look exactly alike. Except for the color/font of the "Welcome" vinyl lettering on the front door.)
For some reason my poor brain thought I needed to get out of the neighborhood as close to my regular exit as possible so I drove through these random neighborhoods not going anywhere for almost 5 minutes before realizing I could just go to the church and leave the neighborhood on that road.
Sometimes I have trouble obeying signs. And sometimes I have trouble doing things a different way than is normal. And sometimes I get lost in my own neighborhood. And sometimes I make the world's best breakfast casserole. Even if we don't eat until 11am.
Totally worth it.
*Somehow my mom NEVER had to go to the grocery store for anything. She always has everything she could possibly need in the kitchen or in food storage. I don't know how she does it. My list of "a few" groceries was a page long and had a lot to do with junk food for Conference.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Friday Night
It used to mean that we were going out.
It used to mean that I'd get dressed all up - reapply makeup and everything.
It used to mean that we'd spend money on something to do, to eat, or to play with.
It used to mean we "didn't have to" come home until at least midnight and would usually stay up much much later than that.
Tonight it means we:
Stayed in.
Put on our jammies at 6pm.
Dusted.
Wrote thank you cards. (THANK YOU!)
Played a little Wii tennis (I suck. It's embarrassing.)
Ate leftovers.
Moved more furniture (does it count as a hobby if you do it every freakin' night?)
Labeled songs in iTunes
And are currently "watching" Batman (obviously, I'm not watching, I'm blogging). The one with Arnold Schwartzen-whatever as Mr. Freeze. And my secret-crush Clooney as Batman. I can't believe we own this.
I'd say something about how sad it is that we're so old and boring....but really? This is my idea of a great Friday night. This is just the beginning of my weekend of hermitude and I couldn't be more excited.
It used to mean that I'd get dressed all up - reapply makeup and everything.
It used to mean that we'd spend money on something to do, to eat, or to play with.
It used to mean we "didn't have to" come home until at least midnight and would usually stay up much much later than that.
Tonight it means we:
Stayed in.
Put on our jammies at 6pm.
Dusted.
Wrote thank you cards. (THANK YOU!)
Played a little Wii tennis (I suck. It's embarrassing.)
Ate leftovers.
Moved more furniture (does it count as a hobby if you do it every freakin' night?)
Labeled songs in iTunes
And are currently "watching" Batman (obviously, I'm not watching, I'm blogging). The one with Arnold Schwartzen-whatever as Mr. Freeze. And my secret-crush Clooney as Batman. I can't believe we own this.
I'd say something about how sad it is that we're so old and boring....but really? This is my idea of a great Friday night. This is just the beginning of my weekend of hermitude and I couldn't be more excited.
Progress
Elise swears that the less ready you are the earlier your baby comes.
By that theory I would've delivered 10 times by now. She's wrong.
But that's actually really really REALLY OK with me.
I don't feel like I'm ready to have a baby. So much to learn, to do, to organize, to eat, to read (no, not baby books. Things like Enna Burning and The Life of Pi), to attempt to sleep on....the list goes on.
Last time I got "checked" I was dilated to a 1 and not effaced. Or 50% effaced. I'm still not really sure if Dr. Man was just explaining the concept of effaced or saying "you're 50% effaced".
Today when he started muttering numbers I asked him to clarify. "Yes. You are dilated to a 2. 80% effaced (meaning 80% of whatever is GONE) and positioned at -2." That's what he said.
Then he told me that although I could go into labor before the next appointment, but it looked more like we were right on track for the due date.
So, I'm progressing. Slowly and steadily and that's good.
Really. I'm in no hurry and honestly I don't want this baby to come out before he's ready.
You should know that being "checked" at a 2 is much better than being "checked" at a 1. Or else I'm getting tougher....
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