Ten Weeks

The last couple of weeks have gone by in a flash. Once again it seems that Delphinium is getting more aware and awake all the time. She now wants to face out and see what is going on as much as possible. Her neck is getting stronger all the time, but she still needs some help to sit up safely. We've taken to carrying her sitting up with her back against our chests and our hands under her bottom. This is very popular especially when you offer commentary about the things she can see.

She also enjoys time in her swing and baby gym, and it's very cute to watch her bat at the toys above her head. She gets such a look of glee on her face when she manages to send the fabric lion swinging. She still hates her carseat and the whole process of buckling and unbuckling. Maybe going for walks will be more popular once we can ditch the carseat and use the stroller on its own. Last, but not least, she still LOVES to have her diaper changed. She can be in the middle of a big fuss, and all you have to do is put her on her changing table. She turns all smiles and coos when the diaper comes off. Then you have to watch out for the waterworks.

The Wearable Baby

Delphinium and I spend a lot of time together. All of it in fact. There are times when carrying the baby gets to be, well, a bit of a burden. After all, there is no where a baby (this baby anyway) would rather be than in Mom or Dad or Grandma's arms. Sometimes those arms get tired, and then it's time to find an alternative. That's why I went wrap/sling/carrier shopping at our local baby consignment shop. They had many kinds, but the helpful lady recommended a wrap since mine is still a small, young baby. It turns out that she was right.

Delphinium is now a big fan of the wrap (which is really just a long piece of t-shirt fabric with a ring closure at one end). It keeps her snug and close to your body and must remind them of being in the womb. Also, the stretch of the fabric lets you bounce just a little extra. The best part is that you have one and a half hands free to do other things. No, no actually the best part is that the baby is happy and you are comfortable. What could be better than that?

Shots

I hate, hate, hate when the baby gets a poke, but there was no question about her getting vaccinated. We really believe that it's in her best interest, and everyone else's as well. Still it wasn't much fun to take her in today. She was feeling a bit fussy before we arrived, but she perked up when Dad arrived to meet us for the appointment. She was weighed and measured and seen by the doctor, and she put up with all this in pretty good humor. Then came the bad moment. One nasty tasting dose in the mouth, and one stick in each thigh. She cried for a few minutes, and now she's sleeping it off in her cradle. Much better than polio or pertussis down the line.

Eight Weeks of Baby

I keep wanting to do short little daily updates on all the cute little milestones Delphinium's been making, but it can be so difficult to get to the computer these days. Nevertheless, I have to try. It would be nice to be able to go back and remember these early days.

In the last couple weeks, she's been very busy getting stronger. You can really tell the difference when you hold her how strong her back muscles have become. She's no longer our limp little noodle, and she has become quite capable of huge stretches and back arches when she wakes from a nap. She's also working hard on holding her head up for longer and longer. She actually seems to enjoy tummy time most days, so I think she's getting her exercise.

It's all fantastic stuff to watch unfolding, but my favorite is the smiles. Sometime around six or seven weeks she suddenly started giving us "social" smiles. She's been smiling in her sleep for weeks now (about what does a baby dream?) but this is different. There is something decidedly warm and fuzzy about leaning in to pick up a baby from nap, have her focus on you, and then flash the sweetest smile. It makes the screaming times all worth while.

Daddy Goes Back to Work

It was bound to happen. A few days ago, M went back to work. Now Delphinium and I are trying to adjust ourselves to days on our own. Some days are perfectly easy, and we have a great time together. Others are harder, but so far, the baby has been the only one to cry. Even on the tough days, I wouldn't trade this for anything. There is a reason babies are so meltingly cute.

I am also so thankful that I do not have to go back to work now that the first six weeks are up. I absolutely cannot believe that is the standard amount of maternity leave available at many companies. Forcing women and babies to separate after such a short time cannot be good for either. Hooray for one year off!

First Solo Outing

Given that M is heading back to work, Delphinium and I decided we needed to practice doing things on our own. Up until this point, we've been spoiled by Daddy doing the heavy lifting, Daddy providing the extra hands and extra eyes Daddy putting baby gear together and understanding how it works. Now it's up to Mommy. Gulp.

Thus, over the weekend, we went out all by ourselves. Mommy folded and loaded the stroller, Mommy hefted and buckled the carseat, Mommy packed and remembered the diaper bag, and Mommy even figured out the baby view mirror installation. Whew! Babies have SO much stuff!

Then, with baited breath, Mommy put the baby into her carseat. The baby smiled. Mommy locked the seat into its base (first try!), and the baby cooed. Mommy drove to the mall. The baby stayed awake (and cheerful!) the entire trip. We met Grandma for lunch (okay so it wasn't completely a solo trip) and the baby slept and slept. Looking at the baby in the mirror on the way home, it was as if she was saying "don't worry Mommy, we can do this."

Of course there will be other times when things don't go quite so well, but it was ever so nice of Delphinium to boost my confidence just this once. We've rounded another corner together, and we're off.

The Lure of the Spring Garden

Lately, the garden's been calling my name. Especially when the sun shines, I really want to get out there and enjoy the smell of the dirt and the new green plants. However, this year I'm a bit preoccupied. The baby needs really really a lot of my time, and it just doesn't work to go outside to work for a few hours. There is a saving grace though. Without my bossy self out there, M has stepped up to do some plant husbandry. It turns out he's quite good in the veggie department especially. We have cunning little radishes pushing up their heads, lettuce leaving going wild, and even a few tomatoes begining to show a few flowers. We may have a decent garden yet. If summer weather ever arrives that is.

Sleeping is Easy

In the before times, I used to be a picky sleeper. First, it had to be very dark. I couldn't stand the flickering of technology, the glow from a hall light, or even an overly bright clock face. I also wanted just the right combination of blankets, sheets, and pillow. How could a person sleep comfortably with the wrong kind of pillow? Then there was sound. Ambulances, the cat, and a snoring husband all had the potential to ruin a perfectly lovely sleep.

Now, however, things have changed. Sleep can be such the elusive unicorn that I will take it in almost any form. I can now sleep in chairs, on sofas, or in any sliver of space that happens to be available. Lights, sounds, lumps, and bumps all have little or no impact on my ability to snooze. Only the sounds of the baby have me instantly awake.

I'm not the only one. The other night M got into bed while I was still in the rocking chair feeding the baby. He said "goodnight" to us, laid his head down on the pillow, and was snoring in three minutes flat. Let's just hope that when the depravation is over, we can figure out how to sleep like normal people again.

Three Weeks Old

Wow! I can't believe it's been three weeks since she was born. In a way it seems like a lifetime ago, but it could also have been the blink of an eye. Time definitely turns on its head when you have a newborn. At three weeks Baby C. is well past her nasty turn with jaundice. She is eating very well (she nursed for over an hour last night!) and I expect her weight to be up quite a bit when we have our next doctor visit.

She's also just getting a lot stronger already. She makes huge stretches and seems to be flexing and testing all her muscles. She's also in much greater control over herself, and she really really would like to be able to hold up her own head. Her cries are changing too. At the beginning, she had the mewing cry like a very small kitten. Now she's moved on to a lustier, louder version that can't fail to draw attention. She has many wonderful tricks, but one of the most impressive is the way she uses her fists to hold the pacifier in her mouth. She's clearly the most precious and talented baby that ever there was.

First Mothers Day

What a lovely way to spend my very first Mothers' Day. It was the first really warm, sunny day in ages, and my elder brother invited us to his house for brunch. We carpooled with my mom across the water. This was a day where all the mountains were perfectly visible in every direction. Brunch was cooked by L, and we all had to have second helpings because it was so good. Finally, for the end of the day we went for a walk around our neighborhood. Baby C. is, without a doubt, the best kind of gift any person could receive.

Getting Over Jaundice

I have this theory about having babies that everyone pays their proverbial dues at some point along the way. Some people having trouble getting pregnant, others endure very difficult pregnancies, while still more have long, painful, or even dicey deliveries. That is why I should not have been surprised when my wonderful pregnancy and comparatively easy delivery gave way to the ugliness of jaundice. I know, I know, as baby problems go, jaundice is really not very bad. However, for us it was the darkest time, and one that I won't soon forget.

The image of her first heel stick in the doctor's office is one. She was too dehydrated to bleed properly and had to be stuck a second time. I swear watching that occur was more painful for me than anything that happened to my body during the delivery. I also remember her first night strapped to the light bed. I sat in the chair next to her, breast pump in hand, and tried to express milk that was not there. I cried more than she did that night.

I am certain much of this hard time was due to my own hormones. Still, there is something very singular about having a baby. You love them so much that it literally hurts sometimes. I think it was my friend K who said it is like learning to live with your heart outside your body. The tough part is that it leaves your heart very much exposed to bumps and bruises that would not normally have been a problem. My mom has pointed out more than once that the baby herself will not remember any of this, and I certainly hope this is true.

So here we are in the after times. I am pleased to say that her jaundice is almost completely gone, and she is now much happier and more energetic. Her color is much closer to roses than bananas these days, and she has surpassed her birth weight. It helps very much that my milk came in during her time on the photo therapy bed, so I was finally able to feed her and feed her and feed her as much as she would take. It does my mommy heart good to see her so much better, and I really, really hope we've now paid our dues for the foreseeable future. Regular life never seemed so sweet.

On Having a Baby

I wrote the following piece mostly for my own memory, but enough people have shown interest to warrant the blog post. Be warned, this may very well be T.M.I. for some people.

It was a Friday afternoon, and the first day of my maternity leave from work. I got up late (comparatively speaking) and enjoyed a leisurely morning at home with M. I was feeling a bit hot and uncomfortable by then, but at nearly 38 weeks into my pregnancy, that was to be expected. By 11am, M had gone off to work, and I took myself down to the local mall to get a haircut. I arrived a little early, so I browsed around the shops for a little while buying a tiny blue onesie with an embroidered flower. Haircut time came around, so I went over to the salon and made polite conversation with the staff while they did my hair. When they asked my due date, I said airily "Oh it could be any time now." Little did I realize.

After finishing up at the salon, I went over to have lunch with M at his office. We grabbed something quick, joked about the horrors of cafeteria lunches, and then still had time to take a stroll through the botanical garden on our way to the doctor's office. The spring flowers were out in full force, and the air was filled with the scent of daffodils.

We arrived at our appointment in plenty of time. We've seen so much of that place in the last several months that there was nothing anxious about being there. M and I thought we'd have the usual check up and be on our way. We were shown into the exam room, had to wait an unbelievably long time for the bathroom, and did all the regular heartbeat, blood pressure, tummy measure events. The doctor was not our regular one, but one of the partners, and she wanted to tell us all about her 6th grade son's middle school career. At some point, she stopped talking about him long enough to look a little concerned.

It seems that the baby's heart rate was a little higher than normal, and that I did not measure a big in the belly as I should by that stage of pregnancy. A quick ultra-sound revealed less amniotic fluid than normal (5 out of ?), and the doctor said we might need to go to the hospital for a stress test. She left the room, and we could hear her make several phone calls. By the third or fourth person, it was clear that we were being sent to the hospital for more than just a test.

The doctor came back into the room, reviewed the signs of trouble, and told us that since the baby was so far along it was better just to deliver her. This would avoid any risk of her being "in distress" from the low fluid levels. We didn't really know what to say. For some reason, even though it was late in my pregnancy, I was still not prepared for this news. I had always imagined being awakened by contractions and then heading off to the hospital. Nevertheless, in a few minutes I had started to get excited about the prospect of meeting our baby face to face.

We made the very short trip from the doctor's office to the hospital, and found our way up the maternity ward on the 6th floor. There is something very weird about being completely clear-headed (no labor pains) as you travel to the hospital and check in. There is nothing to distract you from imagining what is about to begin. I could hardly sit still as we waited. M was busy making phone calls and sending emails to cancel our other plans and let people know what was happening. I wanted to pace and chatter and do anything else with my excitement, but I made myself sit still and wait.

It really wasn't very long before a nurse took us back into our room. As I saw the number plate outside the door I thought "Oh yes, #606 is going to be very important to us." It was just a hospital room with bed, rocking chair, monitors, a wall full of closets and compartments, and a tiny bathroom, but it was a place we got to know really, really well. The nurse showed us around, and then asked me to head into the bathroom to change from regular clothes into a hospital gown. I took off my gigantic pair of full-panel pregnancy jeans for the last time.

Settled into bed, they strapped a fetal heart-rate monitor and a contraction monitor to my belly. I found this process to be reassuring because I could listen to the baby's heart as I lay in bed and know that she was still okay. Depending on which way I was turned, I could see the actual rate. When I was turned on my side away from the machine, I asked M and my mom to tell me the rate about once every two minutes. The sound of that monitor was the background music for the next 14 hours.

The IV was the next part of my "kit" to be introduced, and with that came my first contact with pain. I've never had any trouble with needles, but the sickening stick and jab of this process was more than I'd expected. The IV remained in my arm for the next 36 hours, and it never did become comfortable. However, it was through the IV that I got my first dose of pitocin (a synthetic version of oxytocin) at about 5:30pm.

They started with a very tiny quantity of pitocin with the plan to increase the dose every hour. However, that small amount was enough for me to begin feeling contractions almost immediately. After 15 or 20 minutes, I have having regular tingling sensations in my abdomen, and in another hour, it was full on, but not yet painful, contractions. The rocking chair was my friend for this next phase as it seemed to ease the discomfort. I actually able to visit with my mom and M, and we spent some time watching Elton John be interviewed on Oprah.

Eventually, after a few hours of mild contractions, things began to get serious. I was getting very uncomfortable to the point that I kept trying to stand, sit, walk, or sit on the big rubber ball just to try and get some relief. One of the few things that gave any relief was to have M rub my back where much of the pain was concentrated. I even tried to sit in the bath for a while, but the discomfort was turning into something very tough to manage. I finally let the nurse know that I would like an epidural.

I've always assumed I would have some pain relief when I had a baby, but I wanted to go as far as I could just in case it helped the process to move more quickly. Once I asked for the epidural, I found the anesthesiologist couldn't come fast enough. Labor pain is quite difficult to describe, but the best I can do is to say that it's like having someone grab your one-piece bathing suit from behind and stretch and stretch until those bits of you are cramping in agony. Other people say it's like the worst leg cramps you could ever imagine. Either way, it isn't pretty. When Dr. F. came through that door, I was VERY happy to see him.

The epidural, like the IV, surprised me because I thought I was tough. I know what is involved in the procedure, and I didn't think it would bother me much. However, it is such a strange and occasionally painful set of feelings that it made me whimper more than once. Soon the process was over, and I was starting to feel some relief. Within several minutes my legs were feeling tingly and the pain of contractions was slipping away from me. Within half an hour I remember thinking how I warm and comfortable all over like a cat relaxing in the sun. I think that dopey feeling comes from your brain's own natural pain blockers suddenly having nothing to do. It was entirely fantastic. I kept telling M how good I was suddenly feeling.

Once the pain was gone, all we had to do was wait for my body to progress. I actually slept for a while with the only disturbance being the entrances and exits of the nurses. One nurse, in particular, stands out because she was so gruff and stern. She was a stand-in for my regular nurse, and she came into the room and started ordering everyone around. M was to turn me, I was to hold just so, and she arranged my limbs without any coaxing. Still, she was the one who said we would have a baby by 7am.

After a few hours of sleep, the nurse came again to check my progress. She said I was 10cm and fully effaced, so it was time to get down to pushing. Now I must say that by this point, I was in no pain at all. The nurse's exam didn't hurt (unlike the first exam which REALLY hurt), the contractions didn't hurt, but that doesn't mean the next bit was easy. I've heard those nice stories from some women about how they gave three really good pushes and the baby just popped right out. That's so great for them, but it did not happen that way for me.

Pushing, chin to chest, was absolutely the hardest physical labor I've ever endured. If it hadn't been for M holding on knee, and my mom holding the other, I don't know what I would have done. You take a deep breath, push with every ounce of strength for ten seconds, repeat for a total of three per contraction. Sometimes you get a minute to rest in between contractions, and other times they arrive one on top of the other. This whole business kept up FOR NEARLY THREE HOURS. When I said I was tired, the nurse said "that's why this is called labor not vacation." I kept pushing.

Finally, the doctor arrived, and we were ready for the last stretch (har!). The top of the baby's head was in view, and it was motivation to keep up the pushing efforts. However, the doctor had some concerns about the size of the baby's head versus the size of me. Quick as a flash, I had an episiotomy that caused me no pain whatsoever. That was all our little daughter needed. With just one more big push, she was born in a tangle of limbs and surprisingly little blood. They wiped her face, and laid her on my chest. The feeling was indescribable, and something I don't ever want to forget.

The next parts are mercifully vague to me. The doctor did things, the nurses took the baby to weigh and examine, and I just lay there waiting until they would bring the baby back. Once she was on my chest again, and M was at our side, I was feeling like all was right with the world. It is impossible (for me anyway) to talk about childbirth without becoming one great big cliché. Go to the thesaurus, look up "awesome" or "profound" or "incredible" and you would end up with a nice list to describe the whole thing. Yes, yes, I know it's probably just the hormones talking, but that I how I feel today, one week later.

What makes all the effort so worthwhile is our beautiful, perfect little daughter. She was 7lbs, 5ozs, and 20in long. There are lashings of M, me, and other family members about her, but mostly she just looks like herself. It seems like a face I've known forever, and I could, and have stared at her for hours on end. We are totally and completely in love. Now all we have left to do is grow up together.

The End of the World as We Know It

I hardly know what to think. After getting up and coming to work at this school about 1,700 in the last nine years, I just can't quite imagine NOT doing that anymore. On the one hand, it sounds very luxurious not to be waking early and dealing with the every day details, but on the other hand it's really sad. This has been such a major part of life that I just can't quite imagine it being gone. I was 22 when I first came into this job; I've grown up here. Now that's over. No worries, this job doesn't define me. Right? Now on to the next great adventure!

Nearly There

A few days ago, M and I went to the doctor for the first of my weekly check-ups. The baby is not actually due for another three weeks which, in baby land, means she could be born anywhere from one to five weeks from now. I was planning to settle in for the possibility of the long haul. However, upon examination, the doctor found that I'm already one to two centimeters dilated and 80% effaced. The baby's head is also low, so the doctor thinks things will probably start to happen sooner rather than later. Even with the aches and pains, I still love being pregnant, but I am SO excited at the prospect of meeting her face to face.

Old Country Buffet Vs. Breastfeeding

Seriously?! In 2010? I must live in a liberal enclave because I thought this sort of thing had been decided years ago. A woman is completely within her legal rights to breastfeed her child in public, but still this restaurant decides to kick her out and call the police? Perhaps I have a rude awakening coming when I try to feed my child in public.

Can Jamie Save Us?

M and I are big fans of the TV chef, Jamie Oliver, and we were very excited to hear that he would have a new show on American channels. Years ago, I used to watch him on BBC America when he was just "The Naked Chef" with a half hour program. Back then he was a silly single guy who cooked food for his friends and band-mates, and then ended each show with a party scene in his hip London loft. Years later, he's a married father of four, and the tone and focus of his programming have changed quite a bit.

While he is no stranger to butter and red meat, Jamie's food has always been on the healthier (and fresher) end of the culinary spectrum. A few years ago, this interest in health led him look into the food and cooking practices in British school lunches. What he found was quite horrifying, and a campaign was born to overhaul the school lunch system. The four-hour TV series that documented this mission resulted in millions of viewers, and more importantly, billions of dollars in increased funding for school kitchens.

Flush with this success, Jamie Oliver has decided to take his show abroad, and the United States was his obvious choice. West Virginia boasts the fattest city in the nation, according to the CDC, so it was to this town that the show headed. I don't know if you could say that he met with more resistance since things were pretty awful at first in the U.K., but it is safe to say that not everyone was happy with the idea of change. The show "Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution" is on now, and it makes for some very interesting television. This article documents some of the struggle. We're all left to wonder how much of an impact this might have in the long term, but I for one, really hope this helps.

Winding It Up at Work

It seems I am down to just about ten days left at work. I can't hardly wrap my mind around this reality, and it is for two reasons. First, I just can't quite imagine not being here and doing this since it has been a huge portion of my life for the last ten years. While this is tough, there is not much I can do to change/prepare, so it is sort of a moot, if emotional, point. Second, and of more immediate importance, there is just so much to get done before I go!

Over the last several months I've been trying to slowly strip my classroom of the hundreds of books, materials, and other goodies that actually belong to me. I try to take home a small bag of stuff most days so that we don't have any huge moving days at the end. However, I still have some large and untouched spots, such as my filing cabinet, that need purging and transportation home. I admit that this whole process would have been easier if only I had been more organized and efficient all along. Now I'm paying the price.

On the other end of things, I'm trying hard to prepare materials for my sub. She is very anxious that everything be provided for her, so it is a marathon to create all the plans and materials she will need to finish out the year. We have one last meeting next week to nail down the details, and then, hopefully, I won't be hearing too much from her after I leave.

Last of all are the goodbyes. This part is the toughest. I've written my letter for students and parents, and I've promised to come and visit if the pediatrician approves the plan, but the truth is that I probably won't get to see the kids again before the year ends. I must admit that I will be relieved to see the last of one or two kids, but most of them I will miss.

Then there are the co-workers. Just like the kids, there are those whom I will NOT miss, but they are certainly the exception and not the rule. There are dozens of people here who are genuinely wonderful. I can't quite imagine not seeing some of my closest friends on a daily basis. I just keep consoling myself with the thought of why I am leaving, and that goes a long way to taking the sting out of this process. Only a few more weeks before the next great adventure begins!

Baby Class #6: In Which We Try Not to Laugh

This class tried to be really useful and practical by teaching us about caring for a newborn. This is a very good idea since M has never had any baby practice, and my information is nearly a decade old. We did some brief baby changing/dressing instructions (M did not squash the baby's head like some other dads) and then it was time to move on to our video of the day, Breastfeeding.

Once again, the video was made in probably the early '90's, so hair and fashions were pretty funny. However, what made it really hard not to laugh was the attitude the narrator took to the process. Her ridiculous level of enthusiasm was matched by the silly dialog about what a "mystical" experience breastfeeding would be. Don't get me wrong, I'm all excited about breastfeeding, and I really REALLY hope it works, but I think "mystical" may be overstating things just a tad. I had to avoid looking at M for fear of bursting out laughing.

The worst came when they described getting the baby to latch on to the breast. It seems we need to tickle her cheek, look for her to open her mouth, and then wham! push in as much breast as possible. "You'll know you done well if your baby has a real mouthful of breast!" This line was delivered with such delirious excitement that we finally lost it in the back of the room. People were turning around to look at us, and I had actual tears in my eyes from trying not to laugh too much. I think I will get a chuckle (and then a wince?) every time I try to get the baby to nurse in the first few days.

Great Quote #593

"A rumor without a leg to stand on will get around some other way."

-John Tudor

Baby Class #5: In Which We Face the Odds

This class was, for whatever reason, not nearly so irritating as the last. It was mostly focused on births that go differently from the way they've been planned, and we watched a video about C-Sections. Now given that 30% of all births in our area are done this way, it is hard to say that such a thing is exactly unexpected. Nevertheless, every couple in the room planned to do things the more old-fashioned way.

It's quite sobering to realize that five of the fifteen women in that room were likely to go through surgery in order to have their babies. As I've mentioned once or twice before, I'm trying to keep an open mind, so that if a C-Section does become necessary, I won't feel to concerned. I have noticed that the babies delivered by this method seem every bit as cute, lovable, and healthy as those who come the other way.