I have managed to keep a human baby alive for two whole weeks now. This is no small feat as I often lose interest in projects very quickly (see also: violins, telescopes, knitting, writing the great American novel.) I suppose it helps when the project literally demands your attention every two hours at least and is so cute and cuddly that you don't want to let the project out of your sight.
Sure I'm tired, but it's worth it. Anyway I get 8 hours of sleep, eventually, through the day.
A few gripes:
Breast Pumps: Obviously designed by a man. I sit on the bed pumping and watching the dairy cows in our backyard and feel their plight. The cows and I, we are sisters.
Frequency of Diaper Changes:
The baby pees, you want him to feel comfortable so you change him. He then feels comfortable enough to poop. So you change him again. Then he pees while you're changing him. It's insane.
Hormones: While I was still in the hospital, that movie "Overboard" came on TV. I watched it up until the part where Goldie Hawn remembers who she is, I had to turn it off because I was crying too hard.
But really, everything else is pure joy. So sorry, fellow panda mothers, I shall not be joining your ranks.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Modesty
I knew that it was very common to poop on the delivery table, I was prepared for that. And by "prepared for that" I mean I made sure that I did my business before I was too far gone into labor to not. I watched my friend give birth many years ago and the thing I remember most about the delivery wasn't the beautiful miracle, but instead my friend calling out "ooohh I'm pooping!" and several large turds coming out.
When it came down to it, they told me "push like you're having a big bowel movement". I did, but I still held back a little, much to the frustration of my doctor and nurses.
A few days ago H-man and I were reminiscing on the labor, and I said to him "you know when they told me to basically poop on the table? Well, I didn't push all the way, not because I didn't want to poop in front of everyone. I was more afraid that I would let out a huge fart, and then I would have had to die."
And that's the truth. Women are silly.
When it came down to it, they told me "push like you're having a big bowel movement". I did, but I still held back a little, much to the frustration of my doctor and nurses.
A few days ago H-man and I were reminiscing on the labor, and I said to him "you know when they told me to basically poop on the table? Well, I didn't push all the way, not because I didn't want to poop in front of everyone. I was more afraid that I would let out a huge fart, and then I would have had to die."
And that's the truth. Women are silly.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Thursday part 2
Looking back on Thursday December 3rd now, it's a little difficult to remember every detail and even more exhausting trying to describe everything. We went to the hospital that morning, fully not expecting to leave with a baby. In fact, I tell H-man now that even when I was pregnant, the concept of having a child was totally lost on me.
We arrived at the hospital at 7 a.m. and five hours later I was begging for drugs. I have never felt so much pain in my life. I had a rock dropped on my head when I was 10 years old, but I barely felt that. The pain can't really be described. As I was laying there, being hooked up to an iv drip that would soon bring sweet relief, I concentrated on the sensation, attempting to describe to myself what it was like. The closest I think I can come to explaining what the pain was is that it felt as if I was being squeezed around my belly by a large snake and that its fangs were pumping hot acid into my lower back.
The drugs brought fleeting relief, and and hour later, gripping the sides of the bed, voice shaking and tears running down my face I whispered the fatal word I swore I would never utter: "epidural". You see, a natural birth was extremely important to me. In child birthing class we did an exercise where we layed out in flashcards what would be the most important aspects of childbirth, for example: natural tear vs. being cut, cesarean vs. vaginal delivery. The top of my list included no pain medication and for H-man to be with me.
I got the epidural, and I'm glad I did. My pain level was near the top of the scale, a 10, but quickly dropped to a blessed, sweet 0. As the anesthesiologist placed the needle in my spine, my water broke and labor really swung into full gear. Thank God for pain management. I may have asked the anesthesiologist to father my next child. I love that man, he does wonderful things.
Hours later, H-man ran home to get a few things, that very moment a doctor I had never met came in, shook my hand hello, looked at my cervix and broke out the stirrups and three nurses in green wheeled in a "delivery table". As the nurses bickered among themselves on the lay out of the tools on the table, I plead with the doctor to please wait for H-man to come back, "please he will be right back, please!"
"push!" the doctor responded. I began to cry, "no, no, I can't yet, please can we wait!?"
"Push!" he replied, but I wouldn't. Nothing was coming out of me without my husband in the room, goddammit.
Moments later my beautiful, wonderful husband came back, looking quite stricken that I had my feet up in the stirrups and this doctor was telling me to push. I took his hand and then I pushed.
Pushing out our son is the most incredible thing I've ever done. Looking at it now, and reflection of that day I still can't picture myself doing these things but after an hour of pushing, and pooping in front of my husband, a doctor I had just met, and three nurses who I will never remember, our baby was born.
I often read about women giving birth and feeling this rush of love and light flow over them as they see their baby for the first time. In all honesty I felt I would be more like a panda bear that rejects their cub. I was wrong. When they put our son on my chest, all gooey and gross, that wave of warmth and love washed over me. I touched his tiny, slimy body with my fingers and stared at his swirls of dark hair. Incredible.
Our baby was born at 8:46 pm on Decemeber 3rd 2009. Four full weeks early, 5lbs 11 oz and 18 1/4 inches long.
We arrived at the hospital at 7 a.m. and five hours later I was begging for drugs. I have never felt so much pain in my life. I had a rock dropped on my head when I was 10 years old, but I barely felt that. The pain can't really be described. As I was laying there, being hooked up to an iv drip that would soon bring sweet relief, I concentrated on the sensation, attempting to describe to myself what it was like. The closest I think I can come to explaining what the pain was is that it felt as if I was being squeezed around my belly by a large snake and that its fangs were pumping hot acid into my lower back.
The drugs brought fleeting relief, and and hour later, gripping the sides of the bed, voice shaking and tears running down my face I whispered the fatal word I swore I would never utter: "epidural". You see, a natural birth was extremely important to me. In child birthing class we did an exercise where we layed out in flashcards what would be the most important aspects of childbirth, for example: natural tear vs. being cut, cesarean vs. vaginal delivery. The top of my list included no pain medication and for H-man to be with me.
I got the epidural, and I'm glad I did. My pain level was near the top of the scale, a 10, but quickly dropped to a blessed, sweet 0. As the anesthesiologist placed the needle in my spine, my water broke and labor really swung into full gear. Thank God for pain management. I may have asked the anesthesiologist to father my next child. I love that man, he does wonderful things.
Hours later, H-man ran home to get a few things, that very moment a doctor I had never met came in, shook my hand hello, looked at my cervix and broke out the stirrups and three nurses in green wheeled in a "delivery table". As the nurses bickered among themselves on the lay out of the tools on the table, I plead with the doctor to please wait for H-man to come back, "please he will be right back, please!"
"push!" the doctor responded. I began to cry, "no, no, I can't yet, please can we wait!?"
"Push!" he replied, but I wouldn't. Nothing was coming out of me without my husband in the room, goddammit.
Moments later my beautiful, wonderful husband came back, looking quite stricken that I had my feet up in the stirrups and this doctor was telling me to push. I took his hand and then I pushed.
Pushing out our son is the most incredible thing I've ever done. Looking at it now, and reflection of that day I still can't picture myself doing these things but after an hour of pushing, and pooping in front of my husband, a doctor I had just met, and three nurses who I will never remember, our baby was born.
I often read about women giving birth and feeling this rush of love and light flow over them as they see their baby for the first time. In all honesty I felt I would be more like a panda bear that rejects their cub. I was wrong. When they put our son on my chest, all gooey and gross, that wave of warmth and love washed over me. I touched his tiny, slimy body with my fingers and stared at his swirls of dark hair. Incredible.
Our baby was born at 8:46 pm on Decemeber 3rd 2009. Four full weeks early, 5lbs 11 oz and 18 1/4 inches long.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Thursday part 1
Thursday December 3rd.
I wake up through the night to go pee, not unusual for the past few months The backache is still there and I curse myself for not having any pain medication in the house that isn't codeine or aspirin. I decide I'll just go back to bed and hope that the pain goes away.
At 6a.m I wake up from the pain in my lower back that is getting stronger and fading, then getting stronger and fading. I think about my day ahead: take H-man to work at 7:30, go to my diabetes meeting at 9:00, then an appointment with my baby doctor at 11:30. I consider canceling the diabetes meeting, because I'm just too damn achy and tired. I'd rather sleep than do anything. After all, I have this horrible backache that keeps coming and going and the doctor told me to take it easy if I don't want a baby this week...... oh. I'm in labor.
I roll over to H-man, sleeping blissfully and I whisper oh so gently....
"I think I'm having contractions, I think I'm in labor"
"HUH! WHAT! HUH!?"
" I can still take you to work, but I think I'm going to stay home from the doctors this morning, unless you think I should go to the hospital now, before the labor gets to strong for them to stop it..."
"Let's go"
I change quickly and grab a few things that I think I would need for the hospital: a hairband, the cell phone and charger and the battery charger for the camera. After all, I want to be prepared if I do have the baby, but I really think that instead they'll stop the labor ( I'm only at 36 weeks) and we'll be going home very soon.
We get to the hospital at 7 am, we check in and head upstairs to the birthing center, the same place I've been having the non-stress tests performed for the past week or so. I greet Judith, the older, brusquer nurse as she straps me to the table and calls Dr. Young to come for the "vag exam"
20 minutes later Dr. Young wheels in an ultrasound machine and a medical student, we watch my baby on the screen for several minutes, his tiny fingers resting on his belly and his head pushing against my cervix. "you're in -1 station, and 4 cms dialted, and 100% effaced" he informs us.
"Am I going to have this baby today?"
"yes, most likely" he responds
H-man and I look at each other, "call everyone" I tell him
I wake up through the night to go pee, not unusual for the past few months The backache is still there and I curse myself for not having any pain medication in the house that isn't codeine or aspirin. I decide I'll just go back to bed and hope that the pain goes away.
At 6a.m I wake up from the pain in my lower back that is getting stronger and fading, then getting stronger and fading. I think about my day ahead: take H-man to work at 7:30, go to my diabetes meeting at 9:00, then an appointment with my baby doctor at 11:30. I consider canceling the diabetes meeting, because I'm just too damn achy and tired. I'd rather sleep than do anything. After all, I have this horrible backache that keeps coming and going and the doctor told me to take it easy if I don't want a baby this week...... oh. I'm in labor.
I roll over to H-man, sleeping blissfully and I whisper oh so gently....
"I think I'm having contractions, I think I'm in labor"
"HUH! WHAT! HUH!?"
" I can still take you to work, but I think I'm going to stay home from the doctors this morning, unless you think I should go to the hospital now, before the labor gets to strong for them to stop it..."
"Let's go"
I change quickly and grab a few things that I think I would need for the hospital: a hairband, the cell phone and charger and the battery charger for the camera. After all, I want to be prepared if I do have the baby, but I really think that instead they'll stop the labor ( I'm only at 36 weeks) and we'll be going home very soon.
We get to the hospital at 7 am, we check in and head upstairs to the birthing center, the same place I've been having the non-stress tests performed for the past week or so. I greet Judith, the older, brusquer nurse as she straps me to the table and calls Dr. Young to come for the "vag exam"
20 minutes later Dr. Young wheels in an ultrasound machine and a medical student, we watch my baby on the screen for several minutes, his tiny fingers resting on his belly and his head pushing against my cervix. "you're in -1 station, and 4 cms dialted, and 100% effaced" he informs us.
"Am I going to have this baby today?"
"yes, most likely" he responds
H-man and I look at each other, "call everyone" I tell him
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Wednesday
Wednesday Dec. 2
I have an appointment with the Ob/Gyn this morning, another non-stress test, so I drop H-man off at work and take the car over to the hospital. I get there on time and expect to be released. I don't bother to bring food or my blood sugar meter, after all, it's only a 20 minute test.
3 hours later, I'm still at the hospital and hooked up to the machine that reads my baby's heart rate and movements. This machine also shows my contractions as a series of arcs on an otherwise straight line. These arcs are every 2 to 3 minutes apart, but I don't feel them, all I can feel is the ache in my back from having to lay on one side for 3 hours.
The nurse tells me that my doctor is coming to do a "vag examine", Dr. Young comes in, does his thing and tells me that I am dilated 2-3 cms, 50% effaced, and perhaps, this baby will be coming sooner rather than later.
"yeah, yeah" I think, "I was having these contractions on Sunday as well and anyway, he's not due for another 4 weeks."
I go home and sleep until it's time to pick up the husband from work. We have Swingles for dinner, I take a bath and go to bed. My back still achy.
I have an appointment with the Ob/Gyn this morning, another non-stress test, so I drop H-man off at work and take the car over to the hospital. I get there on time and expect to be released. I don't bother to bring food or my blood sugar meter, after all, it's only a 20 minute test.
3 hours later, I'm still at the hospital and hooked up to the machine that reads my baby's heart rate and movements. This machine also shows my contractions as a series of arcs on an otherwise straight line. These arcs are every 2 to 3 minutes apart, but I don't feel them, all I can feel is the ache in my back from having to lay on one side for 3 hours.
The nurse tells me that my doctor is coming to do a "vag examine", Dr. Young comes in, does his thing and tells me that I am dilated 2-3 cms, 50% effaced, and perhaps, this baby will be coming sooner rather than later.
"yeah, yeah" I think, "I was having these contractions on Sunday as well and anyway, he's not due for another 4 weeks."
I go home and sleep until it's time to pick up the husband from work. We have Swingles for dinner, I take a bath and go to bed. My back still achy.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Movie Star Crush
When I was a little girl I was in love with Groucho Marx.
Then I was in love with Tim Roth's character of Mr. Orange in Reservoir Dogs.
I was a strange little girl.
My tastes have leaned towards the more normal in the past decade or so. Usually tall, angular, pale boys such as Cillian Murphy and Ryan Gosling, as well as tall angular slender men named Husbandman.
But there's this one guy I can't get out of my head.
Ever since I saw "In the Cut", every time I see Mark Ruffalo I get all warm and fuzzy all over. Ladies, do yourself a favor. Rent "In the Cut".
Then I was in love with Tim Roth's character of Mr. Orange in Reservoir Dogs.
I was a strange little girl.
My tastes have leaned towards the more normal in the past decade or so. Usually tall, angular, pale boys such as Cillian Murphy and Ryan Gosling, as well as tall angular slender men named Husbandman.
But there's this one guy I can't get out of my head.
Ever since I saw "In the Cut", every time I see Mark Ruffalo I get all warm and fuzzy all over. Ladies, do yourself a favor. Rent "In the Cut".
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