Dh was raised lutheran, is biologically half jewish, and practices buddhist beliefs. Gwendomama was raised episcopalian, sent to parochial school, and now a mightily confused agnostic, which is what we say when we are too nervous to take the atheist position....at any rate, rejecting all forms of dogma and organized religion.
When Elijah died, we didn't use the terms 'god' or 'heaven' with Supergirl. We said his body was gone, but the memory of him is not. About a week after he died, we were in the mountains and Supergirl spotted a very large sundog. She decided then and there that it was Elijah and to her, he has lived in the clouds ever since. She always will tell us that Elijah lives in the clouds, and from time to time she will point out the one cloud that is he. Last week, on May 10th we saw another huge sundog over Mammoth Mountain, so I am inclined to believe her.
From hearing others using these words, she has occasionally applied 'heaven' and 'spirit' to her own beliefs.
As open minded and 'enlightened' parents, we of course wish for our children to make their own informed choices about their beliefs and their own paths. But how to expose them to these faiths as options, as a fruit to pick from the tree of their choice - if any - rather than the dogmatic principles that are indoctrinated in the children who venture into sunday school? She's so young, I just want her to be able to see these faiths and practices as choices, and she seems too easily brainwashed at this age (not yet five). I had hoped this would come up later.
But, ahh, parenting...every day a new challenge!!
Yesterday, Supergirl asked me if she could go to church.
Actually, she asked me this:
"Mommy, how old do I have to be to go to high school and church?"
I answered,"Umm, about 15 for high school."
The rest went like this...
Supergirl:Iwould like to go to church.
Gwendomama: Why?
SG: To learn things. And make things.
GM: Like what things?
SG: Well, like art projects and god.
GM: What?
SG: I want to learn about god and make art projects like Beth (best friend). Can I go to Beth's church?
GM: What do you want to learn about god?
SG: Well, I really already know about god. I want to learn other things about god.
GM: What do you know about god?
SG: God is where you go when you die. God is not a person who can talk to you. God is the sky. When you die you go there. But the sky is too big to just call it the sky. Because it has too much stuff in it.
GM: What kind of stuff?
SG: ALL the stuff!!! It has the clouds. And it has the planets and the stars. And the sun and heaven and rainbows. So we call it god.
Now, how can I send her to church? How can I let someone tell her she is wrong about THAT?
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Monday, May 08, 2006
National Death Month
I'm not myself. I've been kidnapped by my emotions for national death month.
A favorite aunt died a week ago. A lovely, cool, artistic, fabulous woman.I can't even come up with the words to do her life justice.
On May11th it will have been two years since Elijah died. Oh yes, and coincidentally the 10 year anniversary of my favorite uncle's death. They died on the same day. Eight years apart.
Then I have mothers day to deal with....which has become a horribly grim day for me, since it was the day I took Elijah to our trusted pediatrician and asked if perhaps he should be admitted...he looked pretty sick.
We were sent home. He died the next night.
There is so much more to it, of course, so much more I want to say about him. But this is a hard time of year for me to get the words out. And so many feelings I want to talk to my therapist about. But oh! yeah! She died too...a year ago.
Shit.
So I have few words to form these days...what, between the parenting and the back-to-working and the (nasty, pervasive, and inconvenient) grief. I think it will pass after this dreaded anniversary. The lack of words, that is.
We are taking an adventure; I need to get away for this day.
This picture of sweet Elijah taken May 5th, 2004. The last picture ever taken.
I miss my tiny boy.
I miss my tiny boy.
A favorite aunt died a week ago. A lovely, cool, artistic, fabulous woman.I can't even come up with the words to do her life justice.
On May11th it will have been two years since Elijah died. Oh yes, and coincidentally the 10 year anniversary of my favorite uncle's death. They died on the same day. Eight years apart.
Then I have mothers day to deal with....which has become a horribly grim day for me, since it was the day I took Elijah to our trusted pediatrician and asked if perhaps he should be admitted...he looked pretty sick.
We were sent home. He died the next night.
There is so much more to it, of course, so much more I want to say about him. But this is a hard time of year for me to get the words out. And so many feelings I want to talk to my therapist about. But oh! yeah! She died too...a year ago.
Shit.
So I have few words to form these days...what, between the parenting and the back-to-working and the (nasty, pervasive, and inconvenient) grief. I think it will pass after this dreaded anniversary. The lack of words, that is.
We are taking an adventure; I need to get away for this day.
This picture of sweet Elijah taken May 5th, 2004. The last picture ever taken.
I miss my tiny boy.
I miss my tiny boy.
Friday, March 31, 2006
The birth of Tiny Boy
4/16/06 This was started a few weeks ago, published only now. This is a hard time of year for me - birthdays and death anniversaries really take it out of me.
We spent Elijah's birthday on Kauai, one of his favorite places on earth, and easily his mama's.
Three years ago I had just come out of a six week stint in the hospital...I had what appeared to be preterm labor and it was decided, after a helicopter ride to another hospital in San Jose, that I would be put on some tocos - drugs to help slow or stop labor. And there I was, a captive audience, for SIX WHOLE WEEKS. I felt very very sick on one of the drugs in the cocktail chosen for me - magnesium sulfate - and constantly asked if it was poisoning my baby, as I felt so toxic on it. I was constantly reassured that it was 'fine, fine' and would they want me to take something dangerous to my baby? Really? And then they took me on tours of the NICU just in case I didn't believe them....they wanted me to see all the micropreemies with heads the size of tangerines so I would clam up and do what they wanted me to do. Take the drugs and stop asking questions.
So I told myself that if I just stayed put, just stopped complaining, just realized it was all for the best for my baby....then it would all work out okay. So I tried. I tried really hard. Meanwhile, my then 18 month old attachment-parenting-raised supergirl spent SIX WEEKS AWAY FROM ME. I do not need to point out how heartwrenching this was.
I stayed put until my baby was 34 gestational weeks old, and was taken off all the drugs. After failing to deliver on the predictions that I would, in fact deliver a baby, I was released.
Three weeks later, Dh and I packed up the jog stroller and Supergirl and headed off for a luxurious lunch and hike in Point Lobos. We had to drive halfway there for the routine prenatal appointment with OBfriend, so why not? I mentioned that it would be our last chance to take just one child out for a lunch and we should do it while we could (I was 37 weeks pregnant). When we got to the hospital for the visit with OBfriend, she said that I was going upstairs to have a baby - she was going to induce labor. I didn't question why at the time because everything about the pregnancy had been so atypical that I took it in stride (not my usual MO by a longshot). I said that was great, but we were on our way to Carmel and the beach, so could we come back after lunch? She said nope.
I was started on pitocin at 3:00 pm. We called my friend Suzy-the-doula and I felt fine. I had been having contractions for nine weeks, so I really didn't start to feel anything until the membranes ruptured, around 5:30. Then I just wanted to go into the bathroom to pee. I had just been checked - 6 cm. Once I was in there, it was dark and nice and nobody else was in there. I refused to come out, and politely informed dh and Suzy-the-doula that I had changed my mind, I would in fact like a spinal. Then I started complaining that I could not do this, helphelphelp...and still refusing to come out of the bathroom. After about 10 minutes of this, and some really intense contractions, doula-friend asked me if I wouldn't like to come out now, just for a short minute, and I answered with a surprisingly guttural, "nnno."
Which was interpreted by Suzy-the-doula as a pushing sound, and in one swift motion I found myself being yanked out of the bathroom and onto the bed, as she paged the nurse and screamed, "she's PUSHING" and was met with a nasally intercom response, "but I just checked her..." and as she heard me in the background came bustling down the hall 'anyway'.
Suzy-the-doula had interpreted correctly - I was 10 cm and pushing. I had never had that sensation with Supergirl's birth so it was news to me, and then, remembering what lay ahead of me (the pushing OUT of a baby's HEAD), I shouted to the bustling roomful of nurses and doctors, "WHERE'S MY SPINAL?????"
OBfriend walked in at that moment and smiled. "It's time to push!" she said just a little too cheerily.
"No."
"Oh yes, really - he's right there!"
"NO! Want. Spinal."
"Oh no! He's really right there! Just one push, come on!"
"No."
OBfriend feels for head. "Okay, don't push."
"FINE!" I angrily reply.
"Fine."
Then, "Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" as much as I wanted to hold out for the drugs, my body would not comply.
6:30pm, 3/31/03:
"There he is!"
"He's beautiful!!"
"That's it? It's over?" (this was me)
And there, on my belly, was a tiny little doll-faced baby boy.
Elijah Brooklyn
4lbs, 13oz
16 inches
He had the most perfect little heart shaped face, with curiously bright blue eyes and a tiny mouth, and the most beautiful head of curly white hair I have ever seen. And he smelled like cedar.
Happy Birthday, my dear tiny boy.
Happy Birthday Elijah.
If you were here today I would be putting three candles on your cake.
These kisses I've blown to the clouds will have to do.
We spent Elijah's birthday on Kauai, one of his favorite places on earth, and easily his mama's.
Three years ago I had just come out of a six week stint in the hospital...I had what appeared to be preterm labor and it was decided, after a helicopter ride to another hospital in San Jose, that I would be put on some tocos - drugs to help slow or stop labor. And there I was, a captive audience, for SIX WHOLE WEEKS. I felt very very sick on one of the drugs in the cocktail chosen for me - magnesium sulfate - and constantly asked if it was poisoning my baby, as I felt so toxic on it. I was constantly reassured that it was 'fine, fine' and would they want me to take something dangerous to my baby? Really? And then they took me on tours of the NICU just in case I didn't believe them....they wanted me to see all the micropreemies with heads the size of tangerines so I would clam up and do what they wanted me to do. Take the drugs and stop asking questions.
So I told myself that if I just stayed put, just stopped complaining, just realized it was all for the best for my baby....then it would all work out okay. So I tried. I tried really hard. Meanwhile, my then 18 month old attachment-parenting-raised supergirl spent SIX WEEKS AWAY FROM ME. I do not need to point out how heartwrenching this was.
I stayed put until my baby was 34 gestational weeks old, and was taken off all the drugs. After failing to deliver on the predictions that I would, in fact deliver a baby, I was released.
Three weeks later, Dh and I packed up the jog stroller and Supergirl and headed off for a luxurious lunch and hike in Point Lobos. We had to drive halfway there for the routine prenatal appointment with OBfriend, so why not? I mentioned that it would be our last chance to take just one child out for a lunch and we should do it while we could (I was 37 weeks pregnant). When we got to the hospital for the visit with OBfriend, she said that I was going upstairs to have a baby - she was going to induce labor. I didn't question why at the time because everything about the pregnancy had been so atypical that I took it in stride (not my usual MO by a longshot). I said that was great, but we were on our way to Carmel and the beach, so could we come back after lunch? She said nope.
I was started on pitocin at 3:00 pm. We called my friend Suzy-the-doula and I felt fine. I had been having contractions for nine weeks, so I really didn't start to feel anything until the membranes ruptured, around 5:30. Then I just wanted to go into the bathroom to pee. I had just been checked - 6 cm. Once I was in there, it was dark and nice and nobody else was in there. I refused to come out, and politely informed dh and Suzy-the-doula that I had changed my mind, I would in fact like a spinal. Then I started complaining that I could not do this, helphelphelp...and still refusing to come out of the bathroom. After about 10 minutes of this, and some really intense contractions, doula-friend asked me if I wouldn't like to come out now, just for a short minute, and I answered with a surprisingly guttural, "nnno."
Which was interpreted by Suzy-the-doula as a pushing sound, and in one swift motion I found myself being yanked out of the bathroom and onto the bed, as she paged the nurse and screamed, "she's PUSHING" and was met with a nasally intercom response, "but I just checked her..." and as she heard me in the background came bustling down the hall 'anyway'.
Suzy-the-doula had interpreted correctly - I was 10 cm and pushing. I had never had that sensation with Supergirl's birth so it was news to me, and then, remembering what lay ahead of me (the pushing OUT of a baby's HEAD), I shouted to the bustling roomful of nurses and doctors, "WHERE'S MY SPINAL?????"
OBfriend walked in at that moment and smiled. "It's time to push!" she said just a little too cheerily.
"No."
"Oh yes, really - he's right there!"
"NO! Want. Spinal."
"Oh no! He's really right there! Just one push, come on!"
"No."
OBfriend feels for head. "Okay, don't push."
"FINE!" I angrily reply.
"Fine."
Then, "Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" as much as I wanted to hold out for the drugs, my body would not comply.
6:30pm, 3/31/03:
"There he is!"
"He's beautiful!!"
"That's it? It's over?" (this was me)
And there, on my belly, was a tiny little doll-faced baby boy.
Elijah Brooklyn
4lbs, 13oz
16 inches
He had the most perfect little heart shaped face, with curiously bright blue eyes and a tiny mouth, and the most beautiful head of curly white hair I have ever seen. And he smelled like cedar.
Happy Birthday, my dear tiny boy.
Happy Birthday Elijah.
If you were here today I would be putting three candles on your cake.
These kisses I've blown to the clouds will have to do.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Everything is illuminated
This morning I was woken up at 7:13 am by Supergirl lying next to me, whispering* urgently in my face,
"Mama! Mama!! MAMA!!!!!!!"
"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm? huh? what?" (one eye open)
"Mama!! Guess what?! If you hold your breath forever.......(dramatic pause, eyes widen).....
.......you'll EXPLODE!!!!!!!!!!"
*have you ever heard a four year old whisper?
"Mama! Mama!! MAMA!!!!!!!"
"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm? huh? what?" (one eye open)
"Mama!! Guess what?! If you hold your breath forever.......(dramatic pause, eyes widen).....
.......you'll EXPLODE!!!!!!!!!!"
*have you ever heard a four year old whisper?
Friday, March 03, 2006
when a 4 yr old's nap goes bad
Supergirl, upon waking from an enviable nap, attempts to dress herself in a teeny tiny sundress period. In another glimpse at freak california coastal mountain winter, it snowed today, so I suggested that she find something to wear under or over the lovely garment.
This was her response:
Surlygirl: (shouting)This is a problem!! I don't want to wear something warmer with this and I don't want to change!! I want to wear this dress and I am not comfortable!!!!
Gwendomama: I wish I was a faerie to take away all your problems and make it all work out perfectly.
SG: I am glad you are not a a faerie because I HATE faeries and I don't even BELIEVE in them for REAL!!
GM: Wow, I hope the faeries didn't hear you say that.
SG: WHAT?!?! WHAT DID YOU SAY!?!
GM: I said I hope the faeries didn't hear you say that you hate them. Not cool.
SG: I HATE YOU!!!! (no, she has never said this before)
GM: (calmly, I swear) If you are going to say that could you say it a little more quietly? Your brother is trying to nap.
SG: (hiss) I HATE YOU!!!!
GM: That's a little better. But really you should say 'I don't care for something' instead of 'I hate'. And, just so you know, if you said that to anyone else it would earn you a time out. But since it was me and I know you are being ridiculous, you're off the hook.
SG: I HATE RIDICULOUS!!!!
GM: I don't care for ridiculous.
What would YOU have done?!
This was her response:
Surlygirl: (shouting)This is a problem!! I don't want to wear something warmer with this and I don't want to change!! I want to wear this dress and I am not comfortable!!!!
Gwendomama: I wish I was a faerie to take away all your problems and make it all work out perfectly.
SG: I am glad you are not a a faerie because I HATE faeries and I don't even BELIEVE in them for REAL!!
GM: Wow, I hope the faeries didn't hear you say that.
SG: WHAT?!?! WHAT DID YOU SAY!?!
GM: I said I hope the faeries didn't hear you say that you hate them. Not cool.
SG: I HATE YOU!!!! (no, she has never said this before)
GM: (calmly, I swear) If you are going to say that could you say it a little more quietly? Your brother is trying to nap.
SG: (hiss) I HATE YOU!!!!
GM: That's a little better. But really you should say 'I don't care for something' instead of 'I hate'. And, just so you know, if you said that to anyone else it would earn you a time out. But since it was me and I know you are being ridiculous, you're off the hook.
SG: I HATE RIDICULOUS!!!!
GM: I don't care for ridiculous.
What would YOU have done?!
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Happy 4 months with Bubbles
You're four months old, little man of my dreams. I know, it came up really fast - but February always does that to you.
Four months ago and one day I thought I knew what you looked like. I thought I knew who you would be and what you would be like...you see, I had to. I had to try and have some picture of you that created the essence of life for me to look forward to - because I have spent so much time worried about not getting to hold you in my arms, not getting to keep you, having to give you up. No matter who you were, before you were even conceived, I spent so much time wanting you and fearing for you. But those were my fears, founded or not, and they were not about you.
And today I can say that you look nothing at all like what I thought. Nothing like what I had created in my maternal fantasies. And that is great, because first of all, you're sooo much cuter than I ever could have imagined, and second, it lets me discover who you are, not who I thought you would be. Well, Duh, you might say. Third time around and your mama's just figuring out the obvious stuff like each child is different NOW? Yep. You got yourself real prize mama here, little feller!
I am going to tilt the mommyblog-gag-ometer here and say that you are the biggest joy in our lives - bigger than you will ever be able to imagine - and I hope you always feel that love in your core. The beginnings of your life, which is all I can speak for right now, are so filled with loving you that you smell like kisses.
Speaking of joy, you are full of it.
You are the happiest baby I have personally ever produced, and every smile you toss my way earns you more gold stars than a roomful of potty trainers.
You smile for me, for dada, for your personal fairie, aka supergirl, for the goddesses ( those would be my breasts). You have a great sense of humor. You giggle at dancing and just today gave yourself hiccups laughing over the sheer hilarity of the word 'muddy' (repeated over and over). In the mornings, after you have been snorting and tossing and sucking and turning for about 3 hours already and I am still tired, you watch me from the crook of my arm where you were 'sleeping'. I know because one of my eyes is slit open. When I finally open both eyes, you grin the happiest dopiest silliest grin I have ever seen and thus begins our day.
When we brought you home from the hospital, your least favorite thing in the world (in your two day experience) was getting your diaper changed. You would scream the scream of the unholy night creatures, and we would have to endure this about 8-10 times a day, just to get a fresh huggies on you. Now you actually like having a little fresh air, and love to get a change so much that sometimes when you are fussy, I just put you on your changing altar and take your pants off to fool you into thinking that you are getting a change.
You love your changing station so much that you poop first thing every morning so that I have no choice but to get up and carry you over there to be changed.
You are grasping and batting and cooing, just like a baby your age is supposed to be doing. But you do it with far more style! Your favorite word to say is 'ning'. I am not sure what this means, but you really favor the effect it has when said repeatedly, "ningningningningningning" and I am pretty positive that that alone is a sign of great intelligence.
You love to stand and bounce on mama so we tried out the bouncer the other day and you loved it. You also love your bumbo seat (so do we) and your baby crack bouncer. The key with you is to mix it up. At four months, you get bored easily.
You love your mother earth lullabies and classical music. You don't like your sister's preschool head banging ditties so much. You nurse well but not with distractions. You are a light sleeper. You prefer to be in mama's arms, well, most of the time.
You look so much like your big sister did at this age it is frightening. You gaze at her with the confidence one uses when addressing one of their own clan. You are, this very moment, curled up in her spooned warmth. I didn't think I would see this much love between the two of you so soon. You two ooze it for each other, and this makes my heart swell and ache.
You are a pro at nursing, throwing your head back to get a running start on your latch, then forcefully shoving your whole face into my breast to get your hookup. You get frustrated if the milk doesn't come out fast enough, and flail and growl like a little baby tiger until it flows more freely. Then you noisily chow down, occasionally looking up to lock in to the nursing gaze, and then you grin, the corners of your mouth turning up as you grasp your lunch in between.
Thank you so much for choosing our family!
You are growing, you are healthy, and to top that all off, you are also fabulously fun to be with AND adorable.
Four months ago and one day I thought I knew what you looked like. I thought I knew who you would be and what you would be like...you see, I had to. I had to try and have some picture of you that created the essence of life for me to look forward to - because I have spent so much time worried about not getting to hold you in my arms, not getting to keep you, having to give you up. No matter who you were, before you were even conceived, I spent so much time wanting you and fearing for you. But those were my fears, founded or not, and they were not about you.
And today I can say that you look nothing at all like what I thought. Nothing like what I had created in my maternal fantasies. And that is great, because first of all, you're sooo much cuter than I ever could have imagined, and second, it lets me discover who you are, not who I thought you would be. Well, Duh, you might say. Third time around and your mama's just figuring out the obvious stuff like each child is different NOW? Yep. You got yourself real prize mama here, little feller!
I am going to tilt the mommyblog-gag-ometer here and say that you are the biggest joy in our lives - bigger than you will ever be able to imagine - and I hope you always feel that love in your core. The beginnings of your life, which is all I can speak for right now, are so filled with loving you that you smell like kisses.
Speaking of joy, you are full of it.
You are the happiest baby I have personally ever produced, and every smile you toss my way earns you more gold stars than a roomful of potty trainers.
You smile for me, for dada, for your personal fairie, aka supergirl, for the goddesses ( those would be my breasts). You have a great sense of humor. You giggle at dancing and just today gave yourself hiccups laughing over the sheer hilarity of the word 'muddy' (repeated over and over). In the mornings, after you have been snorting and tossing and sucking and turning for about 3 hours already and I am still tired, you watch me from the crook of my arm where you were 'sleeping'. I know because one of my eyes is slit open. When I finally open both eyes, you grin the happiest dopiest silliest grin I have ever seen and thus begins our day.
When we brought you home from the hospital, your least favorite thing in the world (in your two day experience) was getting your diaper changed. You would scream the scream of the unholy night creatures, and we would have to endure this about 8-10 times a day, just to get a fresh huggies on you. Now you actually like having a little fresh air, and love to get a change so much that sometimes when you are fussy, I just put you on your changing altar and take your pants off to fool you into thinking that you are getting a change.
You love your changing station so much that you poop first thing every morning so that I have no choice but to get up and carry you over there to be changed.
You are grasping and batting and cooing, just like a baby your age is supposed to be doing. But you do it with far more style! Your favorite word to say is 'ning'. I am not sure what this means, but you really favor the effect it has when said repeatedly, "ningningningningningning" and I am pretty positive that that alone is a sign of great intelligence.
You love to stand and bounce on mama so we tried out the bouncer the other day and you loved it. You also love your bumbo seat (so do we) and your baby crack bouncer. The key with you is to mix it up. At four months, you get bored easily.
You love your mother earth lullabies and classical music. You don't like your sister's preschool head banging ditties so much. You nurse well but not with distractions. You are a light sleeper. You prefer to be in mama's arms, well, most of the time.
You look so much like your big sister did at this age it is frightening. You gaze at her with the confidence one uses when addressing one of their own clan. You are, this very moment, curled up in her spooned warmth. I didn't think I would see this much love between the two of you so soon. You two ooze it for each other, and this makes my heart swell and ache.
You are a pro at nursing, throwing your head back to get a running start on your latch, then forcefully shoving your whole face into my breast to get your hookup. You get frustrated if the milk doesn't come out fast enough, and flail and growl like a little baby tiger until it flows more freely. Then you noisily chow down, occasionally looking up to lock in to the nursing gaze, and then you grin, the corners of your mouth turning up as you grasp your lunch in between.
Thank you so much for choosing our family!
You are growing, you are healthy, and to top that all off, you are also fabulously fun to be with AND adorable.
You are loved.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
will the mama make it to woolfcamp?
trying soooo hard to make it here. today. now. hosted by grace.
will i make it out the door? as i write this with one hand - bubbles hates nursing in the sling- and supergirl is reaaallllly bummed that i am leaving her for the day and i just finally got a shower and it is snowing i kid you not where i live (coastal ca) and will i make it?
bubbles is coming along but he has been on a NO NAPS schedule which is taking its toll and currently asleep and suckling here i am afraid to disturb him.
will i get my hair brushed?
will he sleep?
will i be too shy to meet new friends since the lovely jen is SICK and i don't really know anyone else except by web?
will supergirl survive the next possibly 4 hours without her mama?
no - don't ask HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DON'T!!!!!!!! she lies!!!!!!!!
is there a stain on my butt? YES!
but will i make it out the door with the beautiful cupcakes?
or enough diapers?
TUNE IN..........
will i make it out the door? as i write this with one hand - bubbles hates nursing in the sling- and supergirl is reaaallllly bummed that i am leaving her for the day and i just finally got a shower and it is snowing i kid you not where i live (coastal ca) and will i make it?
bubbles is coming along but he has been on a NO NAPS schedule which is taking its toll and currently asleep and suckling here i am afraid to disturb him.
will i get my hair brushed?
will he sleep?
will i be too shy to meet new friends since the lovely jen is SICK and i don't really know anyone else except by web?
will supergirl survive the next possibly 4 hours without her mama?
no - don't ask HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DON'T!!!!!!!! she lies!!!!!!!!
is there a stain on my butt? YES!
but will i make it out the door with the beautiful cupcakes?
or enough diapers?
TUNE IN..........
Friday, February 10, 2006
Heartbreaker
Supergirl and I were driving to town today and she asked how old she was when Elijah died. I said she was almost three. She said, "I was too little to know if he would come back alive."
"Umm...what?"
"I was too little to know that Elijah wouldn't come back alive. I didn't know how long it is to be dead forever."
"Oh. Yes, you were pretty young then."
"Yeah. But now I do know."
"Umm...what?"
"I was too little to know that Elijah wouldn't come back alive. I didn't know how long it is to be dead forever."
"Oh. Yes, you were pretty young then."
"Yeah. But now I do know."
Monday, February 06, 2006
Labor and Delivery
Halloween 2005, 2:00pm
I knew all along I was going to go into labor on Halloween. All the way down the mountain to Supergirl and her buddy's gymnastics class I bitched to Heidi about one thing or another, then I hauled my giant belly (ass) over to costco to return moldy cheese. Unopened. That I had bought two days before. Two pounds of it. And I had an annoying backache.
On the way back (1/2 block + large parking lot) I had 3 contractions. And more with the annoying backache. And when I got back to the gym I mentioned that I was feeling more irritable than usual and thought perhaps I would go into labor soon.
"I'm cranky." I said.
"Ya think so?" my dear friend and soon to be labor helper boldly replied.
"More than usual." I added.
"I noticed." Again with the sarcasm.
I was getting edgy. And that damn backache!
4:00pm
Back home, I told dh that I felt like I felt the day before going into labor the first time (the second time I was induced). Then I started getting worried that maybe this wasn't really labor after all, but more of those nasty teaser contractions, and my back is killing me and I feel so cranky and what if this lasts for DAYS until I am induced and ohgod I can't take it!!!!!
So I took measures to make sure - the tried and true method of asking your loving partner and father of your soon to be born child to overlook the fact that you look like a snake digesting a fresh hippopotamus dinner and show you a good time. Make that a great time.
And then I took some herbs that dear Jen gave me. I had prepared ahead in case I decided to try and avoid the pitocin induction scheduled for Thursday. She said to try the tincture every four hours. So I took some, and - this is how pregnant I really was - actually enjoyed the bitter taste!
I was having regular contractions, perhaps 6-7 minutes apart, for almost two hours. But I thought that wasn't quite definitive enough. So I had some more tincture. It definitely hadn't been 4 hours, but I was devoted to the end result being a baby, (although still doubtful).
When the big event comes, you really are afraid to believe it.
So because I really didn't believe it, I had made plans with Heidi to take our children trick-or-treating down in Boulder Creek. Dh made dinner, I watched the clock and smiled stupidly so as not to alarm anyone, and I refused to eat. Part of the reason for this was that I was truly not hungry. The other part was that I was afraid that if- IF - I was really in labor, then I for sure didn't want to poop on OBfriend.
7:00pm
I cancelled my part in the trick-or-treating and told Heidi to plan on hearing from me later...as things seemed to be moving slowly and she should get her pregnant little self some sleep before I commanded her presence at the hospital later.
At one point during all this quiet frenzy, Dh (Definitely horrible) put on a clip from this movie and it opens with Johnny Cash singing 'Ring of Fire'. I was in the bathroom and shouted out that he was the most insensitive person on earth and turn that goddam song off right now because that is so not funny I will KILL HIM if he doesn't turn it off NOW!! It took him a minute to get the connection, but those of you familiar with childbirth should need no further explanation.
8:00pm
I took more tincture. mmm.....yummy.
The contractions were 5-6 minutes apart, consistent now for 3 hours, so I was pretty sure this thing was on, but I didn't feel right heading out to the hospital while things were still relatively mild, aka: NON-painful contractions. So I paged OBfriend who was out trick-or-treating. She told me that I was being a bit silly to be waiting for pain with my third child.
Oh.
And to head in the direction of the hospital soon, no rush, but get things in order, etc...
Okay.
Note: If you are in labor and yourOB tells you this (no rush), DO NOT, under any circumstances, share this information with your Dh, significant other, ride to the hospital, etc. He or she will most likely then proceed to cook things,look for the cat, pack more things into the bags that have been packed for a month, unplug things, look for the cat, have philosophical discussions with a four year old, plug things in, look for the cat, lock doors, unplug things again, complain about not finding the cat, and generally drive you crazy.
10:00pm
We were able to drop Supergirl off at her designated destination by9:30pm , at the hospital by about 10. They were waiting for me. Most of these nurses had seen me through some scares, plus there was nobody else in labor. So I had a nice welcome and we requested the room in which Supergirl was born, which is what we got. I love that hospital!
I was still not in pain and a bit giddy with all the anticipation, so much giggling and joking ensued. The nurse (who had been my nurse when I had the preterm labor scares) reminded me that I had told her we were going to name the baby Braxton-Hicks, hahaha, and then I handed her my printed birthplan (EXCERPT: #5 WHEN I throw up, give me a BIG basin and offer me some mouthwash afterward. #6 I apologize in advance for any nasty remarks I may make to anyone while in transition or pushing. I HATE that part) , and there was much more hahaha and then they tried to get the IV started (you have to be pre-hydrated should you decide on a spinal, and I was keeping my options open!) and five tries later there was a little less hahaha....but finally a direct line to my vein, which certainly came in handy, which I will cover later.
1:00am, Nov 1st
So everything was just plodding along; when I got to the hospital I was about 3 centimeters, and by1am I was only at 4, then stalled out there for a while. Dear sweet wonderful OBfriend came in around 1, not because we thought I was going to be popping a baby out any moment, but because she is indeed a dear, sweet, wonderful friend! She has experienced every joyous and every psycho moment of this pregnancy with me. She was a rock for me when Elijah died. She said she wasn't going to miss this event and was there for the duration.
Around3:30am (4 hours after being on IV fluids and antibiotic for the GBS) I agreed to having the membranes broken (water popped, whatever). With baby #1, we were Bradley brainwashed and wouldn't allow any interventions. I had natural childbirth with extremely painful back labor. With baby #2, I was induced and we wanted Elijah out fast, and after my membranes were broken, labor progressed MUCH faster (think runaway train) and he came very soon after that. Also without drugs. As I previously touched on, I was not sure I needed to experience all that reality again.
I wanted to get this show on the road, so I was very glad to have my membranes popped. And everything looked good. Except for that damn towel between my legs that was most certainly was acting as a diaper. That didn't look so attractive. OBfriend suggested we take a walk, and I covered up my bare ass, gathered up Dh and my IV pole and off we all went for a walk. It was about halfway around the loop that I realized with relief just what exactly that handrail running the length of the wall is for. Wow. Dh and OBfriend took turns massaging my back as I leaned against those blessed railings and said things like, "Oh. Wow. Ohmygod. Whoa. Holyshit," and so forth. When we got back to my room I was no longer feeling giddy and joyful. Dh suggested that I take a shower, since laboring in water is always easier for me. As the nurse was wrapping my IV'd arm in plastic I started feeling irritable and impatient. She took these (correctly) as signs of progressing towards transition, and suggested that they check my cervix before getting in the shower. I snarled that I would be just fine, thank you, if she would just get out my way now since I have done this THREE times now, and let me in the hot water. NOW. PLEASE.
She raised her eyebrows at Dh, gave him orders to stay in the bathroom, and left me alone.
Almost as soon as I got into the shower, the trembling started. This was definitely transition, and I didn't like it one bit. I was shaking and moaning "Owowowowowowowow. Nonononononono. Owowowowowowow." I gripped the shower handrail (oh I was beginning to have fantasies of gratitude involving the architect of that hospital) and said through gritted teeth, "Okay. I OWOWowowowowwant drugs. I w-w-w-want a spinal and I want it nowOWOWowowowow. Now would be a good OWOWOWOWOwowow time to call that anesthesiowowowOWOWowologist. And tell him to hurry. And call OWowoOWowowfuckingow Heidi. And tell her to hurry. Owshitshitshitowowow."
Of course by this time OBfriend and nurse had come in and were suggesting I get out of the tub. I was reassured that the anesthesiologist (aka the candyman) lived nearby and would be there ohsoveryverysoon. Twenty minutes tops.
(20 minutes? is she fucking crazy to OW think that i can LIVE through the next OW twenty fucking minutes?OW)
The nurse offered and I accepted pain meds in the direct route to my vein and they were quite pleasant - in the midst of all this unpleasantness. Then Heidi showed up -hooray- after driving down the mountain 30 miles, considerably farther than the absent anesthesiologist had to go. She looked well rested, beautiful, glowing, cheerful, energetic and sympathetic. All at once I wanted to cry on her shoulder and smack her for looking so great. She asked how I was doing and I remember muttering something about how the nurse had good drugs and right then the good drugs wore off and WHAM-O! the next contraction hit and then I very clearly remember saying this in a pleading and guttural voice: "Oooooooooooooooooohhhhhfuuuuuuuuuckkkkkk."
I was at about 8-9 centimeters when I had gotten out of the shower, and I knew I was going fast at that point. The fentanyl high lasted but a few minutes before I was demanding to know the whereabouts of the GODDAMNEDANESTHESIOLOGIST??? I WANT MY CANDY, CANDYMAN!! who finally breezed in around6am - almost an hour after being called at home. And when he did come in he started smalltalking to Dh and Heidi. And asking me if I liked surfing or some dumb shit like that and I said, "Howabout you stop talking and give me some drugs."
As I sat up for the spinal I felt Bubbles just speed his way down the birth canal and tried to hide it so they would still give me the good numbing drugs for the pushing part, which I was dreading and getting more panicky about as he plowed his way downdowndown. Unfortunately, me trying to hide it became me panting and whining "ohno-ohno-ohno-ohno-ohno."
Heidi later told me that the nurse I was leaning on thought I was going to throw up on her with all the ohnos, but really I was just afraid the baby was going to demand then and there to come out before doctor talkalot got the needle in, and I wanted to be NUMB. Ring of Fire played tauntingly in my head.
I got the spinal, and waited for relief. However, since my baby was an inch from meeting oxygen and my pelvis was cracked open within a millimeter of permanent damage, the next few contractions were still felt and they were MAMMOTH m-f-ing contractions. I panicked. I panicked because I was expecting the spinal to work immediately, and it didn't. They handed me an oxygen mask. My legs were numb but my back, ass, and vagina were all WAY too present and living in the moment. I started whining to OBfriend to HELP ME PLEASE WHY ISN'T THIS WORKING I THOUGHT THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO WORK WHY ISN'T IT WORKING HELP ME PLEASE!!!! I felt really panicky.
There was some discussion about giving me another dose of the spinal and higher up, and the candyman said he could do that but that I would be as numb as a c-section patient, unable to move my legs at all or feel anything. That sounded divine. Yeah baby, bring it on.
7:00am
Ten minutes later I was numbnumbnumb, mmmmmmm, lovely. Great little cocktail they put in that spinal, I thought. OBfriend said, "Well, you can push anytime you are ready."
I blinked at her gloved hand.
"The baby's head is right there!" she added.
"You just checked me???" I asked incredulously,"I had no idea you were even near my vagina!"
Things were looking up.
I told her I was too tired to push and I would like to take a little rest please.
She surprised me by saying why didn't I take a little nap? The baby's heartrate was fine, the nurse and Heidi were both watching the monitors like hawks, and we were all pretty damn tired. So Dh, OBfriend, and I all took naps. I am not kidding. My baby was knocking on the door, and we all took a little nap. In retrospect it seems pretty ridiculous, but in the moment I was totally exhausted and incapable of extracting another ounce of energy from my being.
8:00am
After drifting in and out of sleep, I opened my eyes feeling much more ready, and also starting to regain a little bit of feeling in my hip. "Let's do this thing," I said to Heidi, who went to get OBfriend who was psychicly right at the door, and then woke Dh, who was snoring on the uncomfortable daddy-chairbed.
Since I couldn't really feel a thing, I was worried about whether or not I could push effectively. OBfriend said to give it a try.
I did. She and Heidi got big eyes and OBfriend said,"well, I'm going to gown up!" and Heidi, grinning wildly, said,"Ohmygod there's his head, it was RIGHT THERE!" And then I got all bossy and demanded a mirror and told Dh and Heidi to grab my legs (one for each of them) and scooted up and took in a big breath and PUSHED REALLYREALLY hard and yes, there was his head, it was RIGHT THERE!!! I know, because I saw it in the mirror aimed at my crotch, which normally would have bothered me. And for the first time in three birthing experiences, I was NOT moaning ring of fire, ring of fire, i can't do this.....and I was NOT shouting GET IT OUT OF ME RIGHT NOW, I DON'T CARE JUST GET. THIS. BABY. OUT. OF. ME. RIGHT. NOOOOOOOOOW.
Nope, none of that. I was blissfully medicated.
aaaaahhhhhhhh.
I couldn't feel a thing, and was amazed to see this head squeezing his way through my hooha with no accompanying discomfort whatsoever.
Now this, surely, was a beautiful thing.
I got to enjoy the moment my child entered the world in a way that I had not yet done: calmly. It was a perfect moment for me.
8:13
I was very excited to see my pushing work right before my very eyes (which were surprisingly open instead of squinted in agony), and so I pushed REALLY HARD again, and then watched my baby literally
8:14
pop out.
That was it. Just three big pushes, and there he was.
ON MY BELLY!!!
Bubbles came out with his right hand pressed against his cheek, which I saw right away. What I had somehow (and gratefully) missed was the cord wrapped around his hand and neck - just once, and loosely, but his hand was protecting his neck. I didn't need to see any of that, and it was unlooped so fast by OBfriend that I didn't have to.
And then, the most beautiful sound I had ever heard, the sound that neither Mozart or Vivaldi could have topped with a mere musical masterpiece:
The unequivocally, indisputably, absolutely healthy cry of my baby boy, as he at once protested and accepted the oxygen-rich world.
I knew all along I was going to go into labor on Halloween. All the way down the mountain to Supergirl and her buddy's gymnastics class I bitched to Heidi about one thing or another, then I hauled my giant belly (ass) over to costco to return moldy cheese. Unopened. That I had bought two days before. Two pounds of it. And I had an annoying backache.
On the way back (1/2 block + large parking lot) I had 3 contractions. And more with the annoying backache. And when I got back to the gym I mentioned that I was feeling more irritable than usual and thought perhaps I would go into labor soon.
"I'm cranky." I said.
"Ya think so?" my dear friend and soon to be labor helper boldly replied.
"More than usual." I added.
"I noticed." Again with the sarcasm.
I was getting edgy. And that damn backache!
4:00pm
Back home, I told dh that I felt like I felt the day before going into labor the first time (the second time I was induced). Then I started getting worried that maybe this wasn't really labor after all, but more of those nasty teaser contractions, and my back is killing me and I feel so cranky and what if this lasts for DAYS until I am induced and ohgod I can't take it!!!!!
So I took measures to make sure - the tried and true method of asking your loving partner and father of your soon to be born child to overlook the fact that you look like a snake digesting a fresh hippopotamus dinner and show you a good time. Make that a great time.
And then I took some herbs that dear Jen gave me. I had prepared ahead in case I decided to try and avoid the pitocin induction scheduled for Thursday. She said to try the tincture every four hours. So I took some, and - this is how pregnant I really was - actually enjoyed the bitter taste!
I was having regular contractions, perhaps 6-7 minutes apart, for almost two hours. But I thought that wasn't quite definitive enough. So I had some more tincture. It definitely hadn't been 4 hours, but I was devoted to the end result being a baby, (although still doubtful).
When the big event comes, you really are afraid to believe it.
So because I really didn't believe it, I had made plans with Heidi to take our children trick-or-treating down in Boulder Creek. Dh made dinner, I watched the clock and smiled stupidly so as not to alarm anyone, and I refused to eat. Part of the reason for this was that I was truly not hungry. The other part was that I was afraid that if- IF - I was really in labor, then I for sure didn't want to poop on OBfriend.
I cancelled my part in the trick-or-treating and told Heidi to plan on hearing from me later...as things seemed to be moving slowly and she should get her pregnant little self some sleep before I commanded her presence at the hospital later.
At one point during all this quiet frenzy, Dh (Definitely horrible) put on a clip from this movie and it opens with Johnny Cash singing 'Ring of Fire'. I was in the bathroom and shouted out that he was the most insensitive person on earth and turn that goddam song off right now because that is so not funny I will KILL HIM if he doesn't turn it off NOW!! It took him a minute to get the connection, but those of you familiar with childbirth should need no further explanation.
I took more tincture. mmm.....yummy.
The contractions were 5-6 minutes apart, consistent now for 3 hours, so I was pretty sure this thing was on, but I didn't feel right heading out to the hospital while things were still relatively mild, aka: NON-painful contractions. So I paged OBfriend who was out trick-or-treating. She told me that I was being a bit silly to be waiting for pain with my third child.
Oh.
And to head in the direction of the hospital soon, no rush, but get things in order, etc...
Okay.
Note: If you are in labor and your
10:00pm
We were able to drop Supergirl off at her designated destination by
I was still not in pain and a bit giddy with all the anticipation, so much giggling and joking ensued. The nurse (who had been my nurse when I had the preterm labor scares) reminded me that I had told her we were going to name the baby Braxton-Hicks, hahaha, and then I handed her my printed birthplan (EXCERPT: #5 WHEN I throw up, give me a BIG basin and offer me some mouthwash afterward. #6 I apologize in advance for any nasty remarks I may make to anyone while in transition or pushing. I HATE that part) , and there was much more hahaha and then they tried to get the IV started (you have to be pre-hydrated should you decide on a spinal, and I was keeping my options open!) and five tries later there was a little less hahaha....but finally a direct line to my vein, which certainly came in handy, which I will cover later.
1:00am, Nov 1st
So everything was just plodding along; when I got to the hospital I was about 3 centimeters, and by
Around
I wanted to get this show on the road, so I was very glad to have my membranes popped. And everything looked good. Except for that damn towel between my legs that was most certainly was acting as a diaper. That didn't look so attractive. OBfriend suggested we take a walk, and I covered up my bare ass, gathered up Dh and my IV pole and off we all went for a walk. It was about halfway around the loop that I realized with relief just what exactly that handrail running the length of the wall is for. Wow. Dh and OBfriend took turns massaging my back as I leaned against those blessed railings and said things like, "Oh. Wow. Ohmygod. Whoa. Holyshit," and so forth. When we got back to my room I was no longer feeling giddy and joyful. Dh suggested that I take a shower, since laboring in water is always easier for me. As the nurse was wrapping my IV'd arm in plastic I started feeling irritable and impatient. She took these (correctly) as signs of progressing towards transition, and suggested that they check my cervix before getting in the shower. I snarled that I would be just fine, thank you, if she would just get out my way now since I have done this THREE times now, and let me in the hot water. NOW. PLEASE.
She raised her eyebrows at Dh, gave him orders to stay in the bathroom, and left me alone.
Almost as soon as I got into the shower, the trembling started. This was definitely transition, and I didn't like it one bit. I was shaking and moaning "Owowowowowowowow. Nonononononono. Owowowowowowow." I gripped the shower handrail (oh I was beginning to have fantasies of gratitude involving the architect of that hospital) and said through gritted teeth, "Okay. I OWOWowowowowwant drugs. I w-w-w-want a spinal and I want it nowOWOWowowowow. Now would be a good OWOWOWOWOwowow time to call that anesthesiowowowOWOWowologist. And tell him to hurry. And call OWowoOWowowfuckingow Heidi. And tell her to hurry. Owshitshitshitowowow."
Of course by this time OBfriend and nurse had come in and were suggesting I get out of the tub. I was reassured that the anesthesiologist (aka the candyman) lived nearby and would be there ohsoveryverysoon. Twenty minutes tops.
(20 minutes? is she fucking crazy to OW think that i can LIVE through the next OW twenty fucking minutes?OW)
The nurse offered and I accepted pain meds in the direct route to my vein and they were quite pleasant - in the midst of all this unpleasantness. Then Heidi showed up -hooray- after driving down the mountain 30 miles, considerably farther than the absent anesthesiologist had to go. She looked well rested, beautiful, glowing, cheerful, energetic and sympathetic. All at once I wanted to cry on her shoulder and smack her for looking so great. She asked how I was doing and I remember muttering something about how the nurse had good drugs and right then the good drugs wore off and WHAM-O! the next contraction hit and then I very clearly remember saying this in a pleading and guttural voice: "Oooooooooooooooooohhhhhfuuuuuuuuuckkkkkk."
I was at about 8-9 centimeters when I had gotten out of the shower, and I knew I was going fast at that point. The fentanyl high lasted but a few minutes before I was demanding to know the whereabouts of the GODDAMNEDANESTHESIOLOGIST??? I WANT MY CANDY, CANDYMAN!! who finally breezed in around
As I sat up for the spinal I felt Bubbles just speed his way down the birth canal and tried to hide it so they would still give me the good numbing drugs for the pushing part, which I was dreading and getting more panicky about as he plowed his way downdowndown. Unfortunately, me trying to hide it became me panting and whining "ohno-ohno-ohno-ohno-ohno."
Heidi later told me that the nurse I was leaning on thought I was going to throw up on her with all the ohnos, but really I was just afraid the baby was going to demand then and there to come out before doctor talkalot got the needle in, and I wanted to be NUMB. Ring of Fire played tauntingly in my head.
I got the spinal, and waited for relief. However, since my baby was an inch from meeting oxygen and my pelvis was cracked open within a millimeter of permanent damage, the next few contractions were still felt and they were MAMMOTH m-f-ing contractions. I panicked. I panicked because I was expecting the spinal to work immediately, and it didn't. They handed me an oxygen mask. My legs were numb but my back, ass, and vagina were all WAY too present and living in the moment. I started whining to OBfriend to HELP ME PLEASE WHY ISN'T THIS WORKING I THOUGHT THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO WORK WHY ISN'T IT WORKING HELP ME PLEASE!!!! I felt really panicky.
There was some discussion about giving me another dose of the spinal and higher up, and the candyman said he could do that but that I would be as numb as a c-section patient, unable to move my legs at all or feel anything. That sounded divine. Yeah baby, bring it on.
Ten minutes later I was numbnumbnumb, mmmmmmm, lovely. Great little cocktail they put in that spinal, I thought. OBfriend said, "Well, you can push anytime you are ready."
I blinked at her gloved hand.
"The baby's head is right there!" she added.
"You just checked me???" I asked incredulously,"I had no idea you were even near my vagina!"
Things were looking up.
I told her I was too tired to push and I would like to take a little rest please.
She surprised me by saying why didn't I take a little nap? The baby's heartrate was fine, the nurse and Heidi were both watching the monitors like hawks, and we were all pretty damn tired. So Dh, OBfriend, and I all took naps. I am not kidding. My baby was knocking on the door, and we all took a little nap. In retrospect it seems pretty ridiculous, but in the moment I was totally exhausted and incapable of extracting another ounce of energy from my being.
8:00am
After drifting in and out of sleep, I opened my eyes feeling much more ready, and also starting to regain a little bit of feeling in my hip. "Let's do this thing," I said to Heidi, who went to get OBfriend who was psychicly right at the door, and then woke Dh, who was snoring on the uncomfortable daddy-chairbed.
Since I couldn't really feel a thing, I was worried about whether or not I could push effectively. OBfriend said to give it a try.
I did. She and Heidi got big eyes and OBfriend said,"well, I'm going to gown up!" and Heidi, grinning wildly, said,"Ohmygod there's his head, it was RIGHT THERE!" And then I got all bossy and demanded a mirror and told Dh and Heidi to grab my legs (one for each of them) and scooted up and took in a big breath and PUSHED REALLYREALLY hard and yes, there was his head, it was RIGHT THERE!!! I know, because I saw it in the mirror aimed at my crotch, which normally would have bothered me. And for the first time in three birthing experiences, I was NOT moaning ring of fire, ring of fire, i can't do this.....and I was NOT shouting GET IT OUT OF ME RIGHT NOW, I DON'T CARE JUST GET. THIS. BABY. OUT. OF. ME. RIGHT. NOOOOOOOOOW.
Nope, none of that. I was blissfully medicated.
aaaaahhhhhhhh.
I couldn't feel a thing, and was amazed to see this head squeezing his way through my hooha with no accompanying discomfort whatsoever.
Now this, surely, was a beautiful thing.
I got to enjoy the moment my child entered the world in a way that I had not yet done: calmly. It was a perfect moment for me.
I was very excited to see my pushing work right before my very eyes (which were surprisingly open instead of squinted in agony), and so I pushed REALLY HARD again, and then watched my baby literally
pop out.
That was it. Just three big pushes, and there he was.
ON MY BELLY!!!
Bubbles came out with his right hand pressed against his cheek, which I saw right away. What I had somehow (and gratefully) missed was the cord wrapped around his hand and neck - just once, and loosely, but his hand was protecting his neck. I didn't need to see any of that, and it was unlooped so fast by OBfriend that I didn't have to.
And then, the most beautiful sound I had ever heard, the sound that neither Mozart or Vivaldi could have topped with a mere musical masterpiece:
The unequivocally, indisputably, absolutely healthy cry of my baby boy, as he at once protested and accepted the oxygen-rich world.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Its all good
Okay, when I was pregnant, I never for a minute thought that I would have to tell my somewhat reasonable, baby-loving 4 yr old to STOP POKING HER BROTHER IN THE FACE, FOR GODSAKES upwards of 10 times...a day!!! But poke she did, and exasperatedly yell, I did.
But our little grunting, snorting, burping, farting and pooping machine started smiling. And laughing. And watching the interpretive dancing of the afore-mentioned 4 yr old with great admiration and glee. Grinning that drooly silly grin right at her. And this, dear friends, makes ALL the difference in the world!!!
Supergirl was entertaining Bubbles in the fussybabybouncer the other day and was suddenly called out on Supergirl super business and she shouted breathlessly,"Mama! I have to go. If he gets fussy, please comfort him and I will be right back!"
And I got all warm and fuzzy and gave everyone I saw for the rest of the day hugs.
this entire post was created with the one hand that isn't holding the nursing baby!
But our little grunting, snorting, burping, farting and pooping machine started smiling. And laughing. And watching the interpretive dancing of the afore-mentioned 4 yr old with great admiration and glee. Grinning that drooly silly grin right at her. And this, dear friends, makes ALL the difference in the world!!!
Supergirl was entertaining Bubbles in the fussybabybouncer the other day and was suddenly called out on Supergirl super business and she shouted breathlessly,"Mama! I have to go. If he gets fussy, please comfort him and I will be right back!"
And I got all warm and fuzzy and gave everyone I saw for the rest of the day hugs.
this entire post was created with the one hand that isn't holding the nursing baby!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
