We went to see Harry Potter today and Baby D totally slept through basically the whole thing. He woke up for approximately 5 seconds and went right back to sleep. It was awesome.
The movie was fantastic. I would definitely see it again. Now I need to reread all the books!
Anyone joining Pottermore tomorrow?
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
nathaniel the rock star
Nathaniel just figured out how to turn tummy time into back time--by rolling over. I'm pretty impressed. Of course it might be accidental, but it also might not be. At night, he rolls onto his side all the time (he likes being on his side more than he likes being on his back, although we always put him on his back to sleep). He's been rolling onto his side like that for at least a week now.
This website says that rolling over is a milestone that typically takes place at two months.
He is 15 days old today!
He also has impressive head control--all his doctors have commented on it, and he spends a lot of time every day moving his head around. He's started grabbing things like his pacifier handle, and my shirt while I'm nursing. I can't tell how intentional this is, but he wasn't doing it a week ago.
He really likes when I sing to him. Every morning I sing him In The Leafy Treetops, and he always stops what he's doing to look at me while I do it. He seems to like music a lot.
I just put him down for tummy time again, and he's been lifting up his head and upper chest so well. He wriggles around like a champion.
He is one muscular kid. You can see his buff thigh muscles. He's basically ripped, for being a 2-week-old. I feel a lot less ridiculous now about all those times as a pregnant person I would groan when he kicked. Yeah, his feet are three and a half inches long and he's super muscly. Things like this make a lot more sense now.
This website says that rolling over is a milestone that typically takes place at two months.
He is 15 days old today!
He also has impressive head control--all his doctors have commented on it, and he spends a lot of time every day moving his head around. He's started grabbing things like his pacifier handle, and my shirt while I'm nursing. I can't tell how intentional this is, but he wasn't doing it a week ago.
He really likes when I sing to him. Every morning I sing him In The Leafy Treetops, and he always stops what he's doing to look at me while I do it. He seems to like music a lot.
I just put him down for tummy time again, and he's been lifting up his head and upper chest so well. He wriggles around like a champion.
He is one muscular kid. You can see his buff thigh muscles. He's basically ripped, for being a 2-week-old. I feel a lot less ridiculous now about all those times as a pregnant person I would groan when he kicked. Yeah, his feet are three and a half inches long and he's super muscly. Things like this make a lot more sense now.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Saturday, July 23, 2011
baby's first outing!
We took Baby D on his first outing today! He mostly slept through it, which was fine with us.
We went to the Borders going-out-of-business sale, and then from there to dinner at Carabba's (Carraba's? whichever) with my family. We had a lot to celebrate: my mom's birthday, my aunt's birthday, Baby D's birthday, and my brother coming home from his mission. It was really nice.
The Borders sale was very sad. That was always my favorite place to hang out. When Carl and I were dating, we would go to Borders all the time, and sit there and read for hours. It was awesome.
Now there will be no close bookstores. :^(
Baby D was awake for part of our time in Borders, but I think it was a little overstimulating and he went to sleep while I stood in line. He slept through dinner too.
He is such a good boy. We are so blessed to get such a chill, awesome dude as our kid.
We went to the Borders going-out-of-business sale, and then from there to dinner at Carabba's (Carraba's? whichever) with my family. We had a lot to celebrate: my mom's birthday, my aunt's birthday, Baby D's birthday, and my brother coming home from his mission. It was really nice.
The Borders sale was very sad. That was always my favorite place to hang out. When Carl and I were dating, we would go to Borders all the time, and sit there and read for hours. It was awesome.
Now there will be no close bookstores. :^(
Baby D was awake for part of our time in Borders, but I think it was a little overstimulating and he went to sleep while I stood in line. He slept through dinner too.
He is such a good boy. We are so blessed to get such a chill, awesome dude as our kid.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
things we call baby d
Since people have been asking, here is a list of things we call Baby D.
1. Baby D/Baby Doozit. It's hard not to, after all these months!
2. Nathaniel. We don't shorten it, although Michelle, "Baby Nate" is a pretty cute thing to call him!
3. Turtlehead. He can look startlingly turtlish at times.
4. Nephi Baby. Because he is large in stature.
5. Wigglehead. He is very wiggly. We had a joke that at his blessing, Carl would announce that he would be known in the records of the Church as Wigglehead Duzett. [Don't worry, we would never actually do that.]
Speaking of which, Baby D's naming and blessing will be the first Sunday in August, at 9 am. Email me if you want directions! It will be a cool day. Plus it is a guaranteed time for you to meet the baby!
UPDATE: Also we call him Hippo, because he is a hungry hippo. Iprobably call him that more than anything else now!
1. Baby D/Baby Doozit. It's hard not to, after all these months!
2. Nathaniel. We don't shorten it, although Michelle, "Baby Nate" is a pretty cute thing to call him!
3. Turtlehead. He can look startlingly turtlish at times.
4. Nephi Baby. Because he is large in stature.
5. Wigglehead. He is very wiggly. We had a joke that at his blessing, Carl would announce that he would be known in the records of the Church as Wigglehead Duzett. [Don't worry, we would never actually do that.]
Speaking of which, Baby D's naming and blessing will be the first Sunday in August, at 9 am. Email me if you want directions! It will be a cool day. Plus it is a guaranteed time for you to meet the baby!
UPDATE: Also we call him Hippo, because he is a hungry hippo. Iprobably call him that more than anything else now!
that they might have joy
On Monday, my visiting teacher came over and brought us lunch. She played with Nathaniel and told me, after looking into his perfect eyes, that that was the reason she left Catholicism to become a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She couldn't believe in the idea of original sin--that every little baby was somehow still paying for a sin he didn't commit. In the Church, our second article of faith states that we believe men will be punished for their own sins, and not for Adam's transgression.
Carl and I studied the Fall this week as part of our scripture study--particularly 2 Nephi 2:22-25:
This is a pretty well known passage of scripture, especially verse 25, which is one of the ones seminary students memorize for scripture mastery. If you're looking for the purpose of life, that verse pretty much sums it up: men are that they might have joy. So find and do what makes you happy.
But Carl and I were particularly struck by verse 23 this time: "And they would have had no children; wherefore they would have remained in a state of innocence, having no joy, for they knew no misery; doing no good, for they knew no sin."
We had never noticed how having children is so integral toward having joy and doing good. But that verse definitely implies that having children is of major importance to--even crucial to--understanding joy, misery, good and sin: the opposition in all things that we came here to understand.
I'm still pondering it, but I wanted to share that with you all.
Carl and I studied the Fall this week as part of our scripture study--particularly 2 Nephi 2:22-25:
22 And now, behold, if Adam had not transgressed he would not have fallen, but he would have remained in the garden of Eden. And all things which were created must have remained in the same state in which they were after they were created; and they must have remained forever, and had no end.
23 And they would have had no children; wherefore they would have remained in a state of innocence, having no joy, for they knew no misery; doing no good, for they knew no sin.
24 But behold, all things have been done in the wisdom of him who knoweth all things.
25 Adam bell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.
This is a pretty well known passage of scripture, especially verse 25, which is one of the ones seminary students memorize for scripture mastery. If you're looking for the purpose of life, that verse pretty much sums it up: men are that they might have joy. So find and do what makes you happy.
But Carl and I were particularly struck by verse 23 this time: "And they would have had no children; wherefore they would have remained in a state of innocence, having no joy, for they knew no misery; doing no good, for they knew no sin."
We had never noticed how having children is so integral toward having joy and doing good. But that verse definitely implies that having children is of major importance to--even crucial to--understanding joy, misery, good and sin: the opposition in all things that we came here to understand.
I'm still pondering it, but I wanted to share that with you all.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
exciting day!!
Today is exciting for multiple reasons. The first one is that Baby D is a full week old! That seems pretty crazy to me. I don't know that I would believe it, except for my handy hospital-issue breastfeeding chart that clearly shows that he is a week old.
Also, my little brother gets off his mission today! AH! So excited to see him! LDS missions are two years long for guys, and while they're out preaching the gospel they get 2 phone calls home per year, on Mother's Day and Christmas. They do get to write home on Mondays, though.
But my brother is coming home today! At 3:30 pm! I can't meet him at the airport, but the rest of my family is and I'm so excited for them all. Two years is a short time and a long time; a lot has changed. My other brother broke his hip and suffered a zillion complications, lost all mobility and contracted a serious disease shortly after Sam left: we had to finally install a wheelchair ramp into the house, and move a hospital bed permanently into the living room for James to live on, since he can no longer walk or crawl or even sit.
My sister graduated from high school and started college out in Idaho. She's now a sophomore. When Sam left she was a junior in high school (she ended up following in my footsteps and graduating early).
And obviously when he left I was in Utah, preparing for my graduation and anticipating an illustrious career in the soil sciences. And now after many unpredicted twists and turns, I am a SAHM to a rockin Godzilla baby! And Carl and I have a house!
And I'm sure Sam has changed a lot, too. You can see it in the letters he writes home. I'm so excited to see him again and catch up after all this time. <3
Also, my little brother gets off his mission today! AH! So excited to see him! LDS missions are two years long for guys, and while they're out preaching the gospel they get 2 phone calls home per year, on Mother's Day and Christmas. They do get to write home on Mondays, though.
But my brother is coming home today! At 3:30 pm! I can't meet him at the airport, but the rest of my family is and I'm so excited for them all. Two years is a short time and a long time; a lot has changed. My other brother broke his hip and suffered a zillion complications, lost all mobility and contracted a serious disease shortly after Sam left: we had to finally install a wheelchair ramp into the house, and move a hospital bed permanently into the living room for James to live on, since he can no longer walk or crawl or even sit.
My sister graduated from high school and started college out in Idaho. She's now a sophomore. When Sam left she was a junior in high school (she ended up following in my footsteps and graduating early).
And obviously when he left I was in Utah, preparing for my graduation and anticipating an illustrious career in the soil sciences. And now after many unpredicted twists and turns, I am a SAHM to a rockin Godzilla baby! And Carl and I have a house!
And I'm sure Sam has changed a lot, too. You can see it in the letters he writes home. I'm so excited to see him again and catch up after all this time. <3
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
nursing my hungry hungry hippo
So, since the first night home, Baby D has rejected all formula. This is awesome because as I have since discovered, supplementing with formula prevents your milk from coming in at the levels it needs to. And with a kid this size--we need all the milk we can get!
Normal newborns come out with stomachs the size of marbles. But mine came out with one the size of a chicken egg.
My breastfeeding chart has daily goals on it--this week, the goal has been 8 times per day or more.
Baby D averages 14 times per day.
Last night we went and visited his grandma (my mom! weird) with the intention of staying for 20 minutes. We got there and he wanted to nurse.
And nurse.
And nurse.
For an hour and a half straight with one five-minute grandma break.
This past hour has been the same (hi one handed typing!!). He is my hungry hippo! But there is a nice trade-off: he sleeps for hours and hours at a time, Last night we got from midnight to 4, then from 5 to 6, then from 8 to 11, with feedings in between. Not bad!
But yeah. When our pediatrician heard I was feeding him 15 times a day, he flipped and told me in no uncertain terms that I should ONLY feed him for 15 minutes at a time, and that EXACTLY every hour and a half, and no more frequently than that, ever.
I don't love our pediatrician.
Normal newborns come out with stomachs the size of marbles. But mine came out with one the size of a chicken egg.
My breastfeeding chart has daily goals on it--this week, the goal has been 8 times per day or more.
Baby D averages 14 times per day.
Last night we went and visited his grandma (my mom! weird) with the intention of staying for 20 minutes. We got there and he wanted to nurse.
And nurse.
And nurse.
For an hour and a half straight with one five-minute grandma break.
This past hour has been the same (hi one handed typing!!). He is my hungry hippo! But there is a nice trade-off: he sleeps for hours and hours at a time, Last night we got from midnight to 4, then from 5 to 6, then from 8 to 11, with feedings in between. Not bad!
But yeah. When our pediatrician heard I was feeding him 15 times a day, he flipped and told me in no uncertain terms that I should ONLY feed him for 15 minutes at a time, and that EXACTLY every hour and a half, and no more frequently than that, ever.
I don't love our pediatrician.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Day 3 with Baby D
We're on Day 3 of being home with Baby D! After all these months of calling him that, it's pretty hard to call him by his actual name.
Baby D is essentially a rock star. He rarely cries, for a variety of reasons--I try to keep on top of his body language as far as hunger goes, so he doesn't need to cry for that. He cries when we change his clothes, and when we do Tummy Time, as I discovered this morning. But OH WELL! Tummy Time will continue despite!
My VT came over yesterday to offer sage wisdom (she was a certified lactation consultant with La Leche League forever, apparently). It was really heartening. She said Baby Doozit is doing really well--that even though yesterday he was only 5 days old, it seems that developmentally he's more like 8 days old.
Makes sense to me. He was cooking in there for at least two extra weeks. He should be a little ahead if you ask me.
It reminds me of a time a few days before he was born: my darling Nana accidentally dropped something on the wood floor, and it crashed, and Baby D did basically a newborn startle in the womb (ow). Ahead of his time! Sort of.
He's been a pretty nice sleeper, too. He's slept every night between 1 and 4 am--and once until almost 6. Last night he got up at 4, but then finished by 5 and let me sleep until 8 am. It was awesome.
Of course, to make that possible, he ate every hour between 4 pm and midnight yesterday with barely any breaks, so I guess there are trade-offs. :^/
I'll make Carl post more pictures later.
Baby D is essentially a rock star. He rarely cries, for a variety of reasons--I try to keep on top of his body language as far as hunger goes, so he doesn't need to cry for that. He cries when we change his clothes, and when we do Tummy Time, as I discovered this morning. But OH WELL! Tummy Time will continue despite!
My VT came over yesterday to offer sage wisdom (she was a certified lactation consultant with La Leche League forever, apparently). It was really heartening. She said Baby Doozit is doing really well--that even though yesterday he was only 5 days old, it seems that developmentally he's more like 8 days old.
Makes sense to me. He was cooking in there for at least two extra weeks. He should be a little ahead if you ask me.
It reminds me of a time a few days before he was born: my darling Nana accidentally dropped something on the wood floor, and it crashed, and Baby D did basically a newborn startle in the womb (ow). Ahead of his time! Sort of.
He's been a pretty nice sleeper, too. He's slept every night between 1 and 4 am--and once until almost 6. Last night he got up at 4, but then finished by 5 and let me sleep until 8 am. It was awesome.
Of course, to make that possible, he ate every hour between 4 pm and midnight yesterday with barely any breaks, so I guess there are trade-offs. :^/
I'll make Carl post more pictures later.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Baby D Goes to Planet Earth
So last Tuesday, my wife and I went into the hospital to induce labor. I have a few scattered thoughts right now, that I'll surely add to later:
* When Allie was getting ready to push, the nurse on call clicked her little radio and tried to get the Labor and Delivery nurses to show up. Unfortunately, she had a thick Asian accent that prevented her from successfully pronouncing her 'L's and 'R's. So over and over again, into this little microphone hanging off her neck, she tried to say "Call Labor and Delivery." When it doesn't work, she just says it louder. And this is while all the other nurses and midwives are getting all their tools together and giving Allie final instructions. The baby's about to come, and it's going to come to the chorus of "Caw Waboa and Edewyvewee!" It took almost a dozen tries. I'm amazed it worked at all.
* All babies are born with blue eyes, apparently. Baby D looked like a Fremen. Should we read him Goodnight Dune? Now his eyes are closer to some kind of green or brown. At least we know he wasn't born with a spice addiction.
* My favorite face that Baby D makes is when he's utterly flummoxed. He furrows his brow at his surroundings, summoning their meanings. It is more than simple confusion. It is the sweet, innocent bewilderment that belongs solely to the fresh offspring of this world. It's really cute.
* Baby D was born at 10 pounds and 6 ounces. "He's really big!" one midwife pronounced. "He's leveled up!" I exclaimed. My wife laughed, dutifully.
* Baby D is the Justin Bieber of his peers. He had a full head of hair before he was even born; we could tell he was crowning because his hair was poking out. His hair hangs over his ears.
* When Allie was getting ready to push, the nurse on call clicked her little radio and tried to get the Labor and Delivery nurses to show up. Unfortunately, she had a thick Asian accent that prevented her from successfully pronouncing her 'L's and 'R's. So over and over again, into this little microphone hanging off her neck, she tried to say "Call Labor and Delivery." When it doesn't work, she just says it louder. And this is while all the other nurses and midwives are getting all their tools together and giving Allie final instructions. The baby's about to come, and it's going to come to the chorus of "Caw Waboa and Edewyvewee!" It took almost a dozen tries. I'm amazed it worked at all.
* All babies are born with blue eyes, apparently. Baby D looked like a Fremen. Should we read him Goodnight Dune? Now his eyes are closer to some kind of green or brown. At least we know he wasn't born with a spice addiction.
* My favorite face that Baby D makes is when he's utterly flummoxed. He furrows his brow at his surroundings, summoning their meanings. It is more than simple confusion. It is the sweet, innocent bewilderment that belongs solely to the fresh offspring of this world. It's really cute.
* Baby D was born at 10 pounds and 6 ounces. "He's really big!" one midwife pronounced. "He's leveled up!" I exclaimed. My wife laughed, dutifully.
* Baby D is the Justin Bieber of his peers. He had a full head of hair before he was even born; we could tell he was crowning because his hair was poking out. His hair hangs over his ears.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
the first night with Baby D
We're about to start the second night with Baby D at home with us. The first night, I felt, was reasonably blogworthy. It is kind of a big deal, probably. Being his first full night at home.
We turned off the lights to go to sleep last night at 10:15. So at 10:30 Baby D decided he was hungry. He'd been circumsized in the morning, and the lactation consultant warned me that he would sleep for like 6-8 hours, and then wake up and want to cluster feed--which is where they nurse for hours on end. She estimated he'd want to eat sometime between 2 and 6 pm. But he didn't.
So, 10:30 pm - 1 am it was! But it was fine. I sat in my glider and just chilled with him in our room until he finished. It was sad because I think there was still just colostrum at that point, which is probably not very filling, and he was starving, and by 12:30 am he was so frustrated and sad that he couldn't latch. I tried to give him some formula and he like, flipped. He did NOT want it. But finally I just kind of forced it upon him and he ended up having 30 cc's. Poor kid! He was so hungry.
And THEN, he slept! From 1 am until 6! Winning!
And then he woke up and cluster fed again from 6 until 8:30 am. But, at least we got those 5 hours in the middle. Carl ended up getting a full night's sleep and only waking up once. I've been pretty proactive about reading Baby D's body language, so he's only really cried when we've changed his clothes. He doesn't like having shirts go over his head. But other than that, he's been pretty chill.
Anyway, so that was good.
Okay, bedtime take two!
We turned off the lights to go to sleep last night at 10:15. So at 10:30 Baby D decided he was hungry. He'd been circumsized in the morning, and the lactation consultant warned me that he would sleep for like 6-8 hours, and then wake up and want to cluster feed--which is where they nurse for hours on end. She estimated he'd want to eat sometime between 2 and 6 pm. But he didn't.
So, 10:30 pm - 1 am it was! But it was fine. I sat in my glider and just chilled with him in our room until he finished. It was sad because I think there was still just colostrum at that point, which is probably not very filling, and he was starving, and by 12:30 am he was so frustrated and sad that he couldn't latch. I tried to give him some formula and he like, flipped. He did NOT want it. But finally I just kind of forced it upon him and he ended up having 30 cc's. Poor kid! He was so hungry.
And THEN, he slept! From 1 am until 6! Winning!
And then he woke up and cluster fed again from 6 until 8:30 am. But, at least we got those 5 hours in the middle. Carl ended up getting a full night's sleep and only waking up once. I've been pretty proactive about reading Baby D's body language, so he's only really cried when we've changed his clothes. He doesn't like having shirts go over his head. But other than that, he's been pretty chill.
Anyway, so that was good.
Okay, bedtime take two!
BABY D IS BORN!!! long version
BABY DOOZIT IS BORN!! At last! This is the long version of his birth story, from my perspective. Maybe Carl will help fill in some blanks later or something.
We woke up at 5:45 am on Tuesday morning to call the hospital at 6, and make sure everything was still on for 7. They told us they had everything ready, so to come on in. So we did.
As we were running out the door, I thought to myself--what if our baby doesn't fit newborn size clothes? And I went back and grabbed a 3-month onesie and jammed it in the hospital bag. In retrospect, I see the divine inspiration in this move. And we were off.
We got to the hospital on time, but then we still had to wait for a while to check in. When they finally got us in our room, it was almost 8 am.
The first thing that happened was our nurse came in, read my birth plan, and promptly ignored it. I was planning to wear my own clothes, for example, and she saw that, and threw a hospital gown at me and barked to put it on. So I did.
She had to hook me up to an IV for the pitocin drip. She tried it in my hand, and promptly blew my vein (I now have a gigantic bruise there). So she ended up getting it in my right forearm instead. It was very terrifying but I didn't cry.
About now the midwife came in and felt me and said she thought Baby D weighed 8 pounds. "EIGHT POUNDS!" I thought in my head. "But I am so tiny!"
Ha, ha.
The plan was to get me started on pitocin and then let my body take it from there. [It didn't work.] Six hours later I was on 12 milliunits/minute and not feeling a thing. So they upped it to 14 and then to 16, and then I could feel it! I tried to get comfortable, but it was impossible: I had the IV drip on my right arm, the blood pressure cuff on my left (which incidentally almost exploded my poor blown-veined hand every time they used it, which was every half hour), and then a fetal monitor and a contraction monitor wrapped around my stomach. So I couldn't walk, couldn't move around in bed, couldn't get on the birth ball. Dumb.
Eventually the pain got to be such that my body flipped out, shortly after they broke my water. My blood pressure went through the roof, so they started taking it like every 5 minutes (and remember my poor hand! OWW!). They had to call in a guy to take my blood to make sure I was okay; of course he wanted to take it from the blown vein. :^(
There was a point where I had someone taking my blood, listening to my heart, taking my temperature, and messing with the fetal monitor. At this point, I realized: I had studied and worked for an unmedicated, natural birth--and there was nothing natural about any of this. At all. So I said, "What if I gave up?"
My midwife paused and said quietly, "It takes a pretty crazy person to attempt a pitocin induction without painkiller. Personally, I wouldn't do it."
Gee, thanks for telling me that ahead of time!
So I got the epidural. By the time I got it I was a total mess and it threw me into giant shakes. As in, I probably looked epileptic or something, shaking uncontrollably. I think Carl was pretty upset. I remember him trying to hold my hands, which were flailing around, and asking the midwives something urgent which I don't remember. After all the shaking, they threw a zillion blankets on me and I went into this strange conscious doze for the next 6 hours.
Then it was my job to tell them if I felt pressure like it was time for him to come out. Our new nurse, who was Asian (this matters), asked me if I felt a constant pressure yet.
Instead of just saying "no," I waxed verbose for reasons I still can't understand in retrospect. I could feel pressure, but in waves and it wasn't constant. But she misunderstood and started getting everybody. It was a good thing too, because the midwife checked and he was crowning.
So the Asian nurse had to call in someone to observe, since my midwife is new to the hospital. But her accent was so bad, the person on the other end couldn't understand. "To Wabow and Dewiwewy," she kept saying. "What?" the other person asked. "WABOW. DEWIWEWY. WABOW!!! DEWIWEWY!" the nurse said, over and over, louder and louder, as if volume were the problem here. Even in my concentrated state, and approximately 2 minutes from giving birth, I found the exchange completely hilarious.
Anyway, then it was time. So they coached me through pushing, and then once I understood the instructions, I got him out in about 4 pushes. I heard one midwife telling another one later that it was really impressive. That was nice to overhear.
So then he was free! His head was shaped like an ice cream cone and he had these long gorgeous dark waves of hair kind of gelled down with vernix. Carl delivered him to my arms and then cut the cord.
"I think that baby is nine pounds," someone said while I sat with him.
Then, they took him to the scale and gasped: 10 pounds, 6 ounces. 21 inches long.
O_O
So basically, between him, my bag of waters, and the placenta, I figure I lost at least half (or more!) of my pregnancy weight on Wednesday.
At the hospital, everyone said the same thing. And did the same thing. They would look at him, look at me, look at him, then look at me, and say in a confused voice, "But... you're not big."
True! And I am as confounded as to how he fit in there, too. He positively dwarfs all the other babies I saw in there.
Anyway. I totally typed this whole thing one-handed while holding Baby D. Sorry it took so long! The hospital's internet sucked and ever since we got home I've just been trying to make sure that I eat and he eats. As a Goliath baby, he eats, oh, like every 45 minutes. And since yesterday, he refuses any formula (I was told to supplement nursing with formula until everything is established). So, I still need to write about his stay in the NICU and our first night with him, but I'll keep working on that. For now, this will have to suffice.
We woke up at 5:45 am on Tuesday morning to call the hospital at 6, and make sure everything was still on for 7. They told us they had everything ready, so to come on in. So we did.
As we were running out the door, I thought to myself--what if our baby doesn't fit newborn size clothes? And I went back and grabbed a 3-month onesie and jammed it in the hospital bag. In retrospect, I see the divine inspiration in this move. And we were off.
We got to the hospital on time, but then we still had to wait for a while to check in. When they finally got us in our room, it was almost 8 am.
The first thing that happened was our nurse came in, read my birth plan, and promptly ignored it. I was planning to wear my own clothes, for example, and she saw that, and threw a hospital gown at me and barked to put it on. So I did.
She had to hook me up to an IV for the pitocin drip. She tried it in my hand, and promptly blew my vein (I now have a gigantic bruise there). So she ended up getting it in my right forearm instead. It was very terrifying but I didn't cry.
About now the midwife came in and felt me and said she thought Baby D weighed 8 pounds. "EIGHT POUNDS!" I thought in my head. "But I am so tiny!"
Ha, ha.
The plan was to get me started on pitocin and then let my body take it from there. [It didn't work.] Six hours later I was on 12 milliunits/minute and not feeling a thing. So they upped it to 14 and then to 16, and then I could feel it! I tried to get comfortable, but it was impossible: I had the IV drip on my right arm, the blood pressure cuff on my left (which incidentally almost exploded my poor blown-veined hand every time they used it, which was every half hour), and then a fetal monitor and a contraction monitor wrapped around my stomach. So I couldn't walk, couldn't move around in bed, couldn't get on the birth ball. Dumb.
Eventually the pain got to be such that my body flipped out, shortly after they broke my water. My blood pressure went through the roof, so they started taking it like every 5 minutes (and remember my poor hand! OWW!). They had to call in a guy to take my blood to make sure I was okay; of course he wanted to take it from the blown vein. :^(
There was a point where I had someone taking my blood, listening to my heart, taking my temperature, and messing with the fetal monitor. At this point, I realized: I had studied and worked for an unmedicated, natural birth--and there was nothing natural about any of this. At all. So I said, "What if I gave up?"
My midwife paused and said quietly, "It takes a pretty crazy person to attempt a pitocin induction without painkiller. Personally, I wouldn't do it."
Gee, thanks for telling me that ahead of time!
So I got the epidural. By the time I got it I was a total mess and it threw me into giant shakes. As in, I probably looked epileptic or something, shaking uncontrollably. I think Carl was pretty upset. I remember him trying to hold my hands, which were flailing around, and asking the midwives something urgent which I don't remember. After all the shaking, they threw a zillion blankets on me and I went into this strange conscious doze for the next 6 hours.
Then it was my job to tell them if I felt pressure like it was time for him to come out. Our new nurse, who was Asian (this matters), asked me if I felt a constant pressure yet.
Instead of just saying "no," I waxed verbose for reasons I still can't understand in retrospect. I could feel pressure, but in waves and it wasn't constant. But she misunderstood and started getting everybody. It was a good thing too, because the midwife checked and he was crowning.
So the Asian nurse had to call in someone to observe, since my midwife is new to the hospital. But her accent was so bad, the person on the other end couldn't understand. "To Wabow and Dewiwewy," she kept saying. "What?" the other person asked. "WABOW. DEWIWEWY. WABOW!!! DEWIWEWY!" the nurse said, over and over, louder and louder, as if volume were the problem here. Even in my concentrated state, and approximately 2 minutes from giving birth, I found the exchange completely hilarious.
Anyway, then it was time. So they coached me through pushing, and then once I understood the instructions, I got him out in about 4 pushes. I heard one midwife telling another one later that it was really impressive. That was nice to overhear.
So then he was free! His head was shaped like an ice cream cone and he had these long gorgeous dark waves of hair kind of gelled down with vernix. Carl delivered him to my arms and then cut the cord.
"I think that baby is nine pounds," someone said while I sat with him.
Then, they took him to the scale and gasped: 10 pounds, 6 ounces. 21 inches long.
O_O
So basically, between him, my bag of waters, and the placenta, I figure I lost at least half (or more!) of my pregnancy weight on Wednesday.
At the hospital, everyone said the same thing. And did the same thing. They would look at him, look at me, look at him, then look at me, and say in a confused voice, "But... you're not big."
True! And I am as confounded as to how he fit in there, too. He positively dwarfs all the other babies I saw in there.
Anyway. I totally typed this whole thing one-handed while holding Baby D. Sorry it took so long! The hospital's internet sucked and ever since we got home I've just been trying to make sure that I eat and he eats. As a Goliath baby, he eats, oh, like every 45 minutes. And since yesterday, he refuses any formula (I was told to supplement nursing with formula until everything is established). So, I still need to write about his stay in the NICU and our first night with him, but I'll keep working on that. For now, this will have to suffice.
Friday, July 15, 2011
BABY D IS BORN!! short version
Baby Doozit is born at last!
Nathaniel James was born at 1:26 am on Wednesday. He was 21 inches long and--wait for it--10 pounds, 6 ounces. O_O
Every nurse, consultant, and random person at the hospital had the same comment: "...you can't possibly be his mom." Or, alternatively, "But.... you're not big!"
It is definitely true that I am not big. But I am definitely his mom.
I am very much in awe of his size myself. He doesn't fit newborn diapers at all, and he won't fit into newborn clothes. It's really heartbreaking because he has some CUTE stuff I was so excited for him to wear.
But, I guess there is more to being a baby than wearing clothes with cartoon monkeys on them. Also, his 3-mo clothes are also incredibly cute, so I guess I'll get over it. And on the plus side, Baby D totally doesn't care either way.
In answer to the most important question: yes, Baby D WAS slightly orange when he came out. Indeed, it would be ludicrous to hold anything but vast Dorito consumption accountable for his original coloring.
Pictures and the long version of the birth story coming soon!
Nathaniel James was born at 1:26 am on Wednesday. He was 21 inches long and--wait for it--10 pounds, 6 ounces. O_O
Every nurse, consultant, and random person at the hospital had the same comment: "...you can't possibly be his mom." Or, alternatively, "But.... you're not big!"
It is definitely true that I am not big. But I am definitely his mom.
I am very much in awe of his size myself. He doesn't fit newborn diapers at all, and he won't fit into newborn clothes. It's really heartbreaking because he has some CUTE stuff I was so excited for him to wear.
But, I guess there is more to being a baby than wearing clothes with cartoon monkeys on them. Also, his 3-mo clothes are also incredibly cute, so I guess I'll get over it. And on the plus side, Baby D totally doesn't care either way.
In answer to the most important question: yes, Baby D WAS slightly orange when he came out. Indeed, it would be ludicrous to hold anything but vast Dorito consumption accountable for his original coloring.
Pictures and the long version of the birth story coming soon!
Monday, July 11, 2011
not in labor!!
So apparently a rumor has begun that I am in labor!
IT IS NOT TRUE. Or if it is true, I am in labor with precisely zero contractions!
I was contracting regularly earlier today, but that ended about 4 hours ago. And by regularly I don't mean close enough for it to count really. Just like every 8-10 minutes or something. Possibly further apart than that. I didn't bother timing because I could walk and talk right through them.
Induction is scheduled for 7 am tomorrow, but it may be later than that--I have to call at 6 am to make sure a golden horde of pregnant ladies hasn't descended upon the maternity ward overnight, but assuming that hasn't happened, they will hopefully have a spot for me.
Only three people are allowed in the room at a time--so that would be me, Carl, and the midwife or nurse. After the baby is born, we plan to nurse immediately, and do that whole bonding thing, and then let him be bathed and everything. THEN family members are allowed to come see him in the mother-baby section of the hospital. Assuming that that all happens and leaves time for visiting hours at the end of the day. Otherwise, family can see Baby D on Wednesday.
Everyone else, I'll have to let you know how I feel. Maybe you can see him that evening, or else on Thursday--or maybe I might make you wait a little longer than that. Don't worry, in the words of my darling eBFF, he will still look like a newborn chicken monkey for a few days after he's born. :o)
IT IS NOT TRUE. Or if it is true, I am in labor with precisely zero contractions!
I was contracting regularly earlier today, but that ended about 4 hours ago. And by regularly I don't mean close enough for it to count really. Just like every 8-10 minutes or something. Possibly further apart than that. I didn't bother timing because I could walk and talk right through them.
Induction is scheduled for 7 am tomorrow, but it may be later than that--I have to call at 6 am to make sure a golden horde of pregnant ladies hasn't descended upon the maternity ward overnight, but assuming that hasn't happened, they will hopefully have a spot for me.
Only three people are allowed in the room at a time--so that would be me, Carl, and the midwife or nurse. After the baby is born, we plan to nurse immediately, and do that whole bonding thing, and then let him be bathed and everything. THEN family members are allowed to come see him in the mother-baby section of the hospital. Assuming that that all happens and leaves time for visiting hours at the end of the day. Otherwise, family can see Baby D on Wednesday.
Everyone else, I'll have to let you know how I feel. Maybe you can see him that evening, or else on Thursday--or maybe I might make you wait a little longer than that. Don't worry, in the words of my darling eBFF, he will still look like a newborn chicken monkey for a few days after he's born. :o)
induction coming up
So my induction is scheduled for tomorrow morning. Carl was telling everyone about it yesterday, and I had to keep correcting him--it's tomorrow UNLESS HE COMES SOONER!!!! And then people would laugh like it was a silly joke that he would come on his own. :^(
This whole thing is not doing fun things for my mind. I have spent the past 6 months prepping for a natural birth, and now it looks like we won't get it. I still have exactly 24 hours and 40 minutes for us to start labor on our own, but that's not very heartening.
My mom was allergic to pitocin, too. Rediscovered that yesterday (I'd forgotten). Of course, she's also allergic to cats and penicillin, which I am not allergic to, so hopefully this means nothing.
Here. It's 5:21 am and we could all use a little dancing.
Maybe if I could dance like this guy, Baby Doozit would be born by now.
This whole thing is not doing fun things for my mind. I have spent the past 6 months prepping for a natural birth, and now it looks like we won't get it. I still have exactly 24 hours and 40 minutes for us to start labor on our own, but that's not very heartening.
My mom was allergic to pitocin, too. Rediscovered that yesterday (I'd forgotten). Of course, she's also allergic to cats and penicillin, which I am not allergic to, so hopefully this means nothing.
Here. It's 5:21 am and we could all use a little dancing.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
remembering divine timing
I actually went to sacrament meeting today, for the first time in maybe 3 weeks? I was awake and felt well enough to at least walk around from the car to the chapel, so I figured, I'd better go. I was very grateful for the opportunity to take the sacrament. Plus the speakers were a couple new to our ward, and it turns out they are from the very town in Idaho where I did all my potato research in college! Ah, the joys of being an eSci major.
Gotta love those potatoes.
Still no baby. I have actually had some legit contractions--yesterday I had them for a minute each, five minutes apart, for almost an hour. BUT of course then instead of getting closer together, they started getting to be seven minutes apart, then eight, and then POOF. Gone. It was fairly disheartening. Today I have had similar contractions about once and sometimes twice an hour. I'm assuming they're legit contractions because they involve lower back ache and a tightening like pain in the pelvic floor.
This reminds me that I researched last night and discovered that all the weird popping and clicking noises I hear from my womb may actually be my silly baby popping/cracking his knuckles and joints. Isn't that funny? I know both my mom and I have ankles that click/pop all the time, and I realize now that his clicks and pops all come from right around where his feet are.
I just hope he's not also flatfooted and pronated. :^/
Anyway, the point of this was that last night while I was extremely emotionally distraught over this whole lateness issue, I was praying and felt impressed to make a list of all the good and legitimate reasons why he could be late. [Incidentally, one annoying thing that came to mind was that I had prayed that my hair would be long enough such that I wouldn't be completely embarrassed to take pictures with my newborn--and just in the past 2 days it's gotten to the point where I'm not ashamed to exist with my pseudo Beiber 'do. Guess I shouldn't have prayed for that!]
Today I wrote down a bunch of those reasons in my journal, and just remembered once again how so many times in my life, things I thought were the end of the world were actually preparations for something else.
For example, the story I already wrote here, about the time my dreams of being a soil chemist were destroyed upon the cruel rocks of Fate. It seemed so awful that I should get so far in my chosen field, and then be rejected for no good reason at all--but then, my brother broke his hip and we needed to be in Maryland anyway. If I'd gotten into the program, I couldn't have been around for my family.
So anyway, the point is--I'm sure there's a good reason Baby D is SO LATE. Heavenly Father doesn't goof on timing. :^/
Gotta love those potatoes.
Still no baby. I have actually had some legit contractions--yesterday I had them for a minute each, five minutes apart, for almost an hour. BUT of course then instead of getting closer together, they started getting to be seven minutes apart, then eight, and then POOF. Gone. It was fairly disheartening. Today I have had similar contractions about once and sometimes twice an hour. I'm assuming they're legit contractions because they involve lower back ache and a tightening like pain in the pelvic floor.
This reminds me that I researched last night and discovered that all the weird popping and clicking noises I hear from my womb may actually be my silly baby popping/cracking his knuckles and joints. Isn't that funny? I know both my mom and I have ankles that click/pop all the time, and I realize now that his clicks and pops all come from right around where his feet are.
I just hope he's not also flatfooted and pronated. :^/
Anyway, the point of this was that last night while I was extremely emotionally distraught over this whole lateness issue, I was praying and felt impressed to make a list of all the good and legitimate reasons why he could be late. [Incidentally, one annoying thing that came to mind was that I had prayed that my hair would be long enough such that I wouldn't be completely embarrassed to take pictures with my newborn--and just in the past 2 days it's gotten to the point where I'm not ashamed to exist with my pseudo Beiber 'do. Guess I shouldn't have prayed for that!]
Today I wrote down a bunch of those reasons in my journal, and just remembered once again how so many times in my life, things I thought were the end of the world were actually preparations for something else.
For example, the story I already wrote here, about the time my dreams of being a soil chemist were destroyed upon the cruel rocks of Fate. It seemed so awful that I should get so far in my chosen field, and then be rejected for no good reason at all--but then, my brother broke his hip and we needed to be in Maryland anyway. If I'd gotten into the program, I couldn't have been around for my family.
So anyway, the point is--I'm sure there's a good reason Baby D is SO LATE. Heavenly Father doesn't goof on timing. :^/
Saturday, July 9, 2011
random miracle story
No, this is not about the miracle of birth. X.x;; My midwife mentioned that for 6 out of 7 people, the castor oil works--and for the 7th person, it just makes them really sick and doesn't work. I am apparently the 7th kind of person.
Anyway. The other day, I was a little bugged because I was running out of checks. Paying bills is a little hard without those guys, and I knew we had at least 2 more pads of them around SOMEWHERE in this house. Somewhere. And I couldn't find them anywhere.
So in the morning, I prayed that my checks would just be sent to me and it would be great.
Well, then in the evening Carl got home and wanted to play a game. So we played Guess Who for a while. When we were done, we had to find a place for it to live, since it was a new game and we hadn't found it a home yet.
I suggested that he maybe put it in this one random drawer I saw. And then, lo and behold, he decided that would be a dumb place for the game--but there were the checks! So he picked them up and gave them to me. My missing checks had randomly been sent to me. By my darling husband from across the room.
Prayer is awesome, guys.
Keep praying that this kid decides to be born already. :^/
Anyway. The other day, I was a little bugged because I was running out of checks. Paying bills is a little hard without those guys, and I knew we had at least 2 more pads of them around SOMEWHERE in this house. Somewhere. And I couldn't find them anywhere.
So in the morning, I prayed that my checks would just be sent to me and it would be great.
Well, then in the evening Carl got home and wanted to play a game. So we played Guess Who for a while. When we were done, we had to find a place for it to live, since it was a new game and we hadn't found it a home yet.
I suggested that he maybe put it in this one random drawer I saw. And then, lo and behold, he decided that would be a dumb place for the game--but there were the checks! So he picked them up and gave them to me. My missing checks had randomly been sent to me. By my darling husband from across the room.
Prayer is awesome, guys.
Keep praying that this kid decides to be born already. :^/
Friday, July 8, 2011
Schlock Mercenary: Massively Parallel
After reviewing the novelettes for this year's Hugo Awards, I've moved onto another kind of category altogether--Best Graphic Story.
Don't fret, dear readers—-Graphic Story is not referring to stuff like Saw IV, nor to bodice-ripping romance novels. Apparently someone decided that the label “comic book” died in the '90s, along with pogs and grunge music. Then they did a synonym search, and came up with “Graphic Story.” It's real easy; you can also go with Graphic Novels, Visual Adventures, Illustrated Narratives, or Series of Boxes With Pictures and Words in Them (not to be confused with Powerpoint presentations). But whatever you end up calling it, they're all glorified Peanuts strips.
After reading the majority of the graphic stories nominated for this year's Hugo, I've found that the above statement is probably a little harsh. (And not just harsh to Charles Schultz.) Several of these stories were compelling and interesting. Schlock Mercenary: Massively Parallel was one of them, in fact.
However, the “Massively Parallel” thing always throws me for a loop. How can something be any more parallel than it already is? That's like saying “really 100%” or “especially exact” or “uglier than Michael Jackson.”
The phrase gets thrown in three or four times throughout the story, often in a joking reference to serial killing (comedy gold, obviously), but in a general sense, referencing the fact that the main cast of characters for this long-running graphic space adventure comedy is split into four different groups.
For being someone who has made no effort at all to keep up with this webcomic adventure, I found it surprisingly easy to sit down and read strip after strip until I found myself at the end of the adventure. You figure out the gist of the characters pretty quickly, even if all the guys wear the exact same uniforms and all the girls are identical save for hair color.
There's a lot of sarcasm and wittiness, the kind of stuff you'd expect from a daily serial webcomic, but the story itself actually stands up on its own, after a fashion. The characters seem pretty strong for a webcomic (maybe it's just my imagination), and there's a lot of mystery involved with the story, too.
In the end, I enjoyed reading this serial, but probably would not have enjoyed reading one strip of the story per day. BO-RING.
But you know what this story really has going for it?
Robots.
Lots and lots of robots.
There are dancing robots. Singing robots. Sarcastic robots. Warship robots. A bunch of robots who get together to form a rock band. And the finest robot of all: a megalomaniacal dystopia-ruling dictator robot with a big gun for destroying planets. (And his name doesn't rhyme with Varth Dader.)
Robot Rating: Over 2,000 robots
Don't fret, dear readers—-Graphic Story is not referring to stuff like Saw IV, nor to bodice-ripping romance novels. Apparently someone decided that the label “comic book” died in the '90s, along with pogs and grunge music. Then they did a synonym search, and came up with “Graphic Story.” It's real easy; you can also go with Graphic Novels, Visual Adventures, Illustrated Narratives, or Series of Boxes With Pictures and Words in Them (not to be confused with Powerpoint presentations). But whatever you end up calling it, they're all glorified Peanuts strips.
After reading the majority of the graphic stories nominated for this year's Hugo, I've found that the above statement is probably a little harsh. (And not just harsh to Charles Schultz.) Several of these stories were compelling and interesting. Schlock Mercenary: Massively Parallel was one of them, in fact.
However, the “Massively Parallel” thing always throws me for a loop. How can something be any more parallel than it already is? That's like saying “really 100%” or “especially exact” or “uglier than Michael Jackson.”
The phrase gets thrown in three or four times throughout the story, often in a joking reference to serial killing (comedy gold, obviously), but in a general sense, referencing the fact that the main cast of characters for this long-running graphic space adventure comedy is split into four different groups.
For being someone who has made no effort at all to keep up with this webcomic adventure, I found it surprisingly easy to sit down and read strip after strip until I found myself at the end of the adventure. You figure out the gist of the characters pretty quickly, even if all the guys wear the exact same uniforms and all the girls are identical save for hair color.
There's a lot of sarcasm and wittiness, the kind of stuff you'd expect from a daily serial webcomic, but the story itself actually stands up on its own, after a fashion. The characters seem pretty strong for a webcomic (maybe it's just my imagination), and there's a lot of mystery involved with the story, too.
In the end, I enjoyed reading this serial, but probably would not have enjoyed reading one strip of the story per day. BO-RING.
But you know what this story really has going for it?
Robots.
Lots and lots of robots.
There are dancing robots. Singing robots. Sarcastic robots. Warship robots. A bunch of robots who get together to form a rock band. And the finest robot of all: a megalomaniacal dystopia-ruling dictator robot with a big gun for destroying planets. (And his name doesn't rhyme with Varth Dader.)
Robot Rating: Over 2,000 robots
everything update
I started taking the castor oil last night at midnight. I was supposed to wait until morning, but what I realized around 11:45 pm is that I am really, really awesome at dreading things. I'm not typically afraid of things, but I'm really good at dreading them. I read a great article once about the difference between fear and dread, and while I'm not afraid of much, I can dread things freakishly well.
I was dreading that stupid oil. So I just got up, and started taking it. Since I was going to dread it all night anyway, figured I might as well.
Of course, it was super nasty. I took doses at midnight, 1, 4, 5, 6, and 7. It was pretty gross. I don't recommend it.
I thought it increased my BH contractions, and for a while there this morning I felt some lower back pain and a few almost painful contractions. So I had hope.
I had an ultrasound appointment at 2:30, so I walked there. It was maybe a 20 minute walk. I hoped that the walking would do something, but no.
The ultrasound lady felt really bad for me and gave me two pictures of Baby D, which hopefully I won't need to post because we'll have real pictures of his external self soon enough. But anyway, it was good to know that he's still measuring big. As in, the docs think he's just barely 41 weeks, but he measures at almost 42.
This is not actually that awesome, except that it does validate my belief that he was supposed to be here sooner than he has been.
He was very wiggly, which the ultrasound lady said meant that he wasn't settling down to be born yet. :^(
SETTLE DOWN, KID!
BE BORN!!!
I was dreading that stupid oil. So I just got up, and started taking it. Since I was going to dread it all night anyway, figured I might as well.
Of course, it was super nasty. I took doses at midnight, 1, 4, 5, 6, and 7. It was pretty gross. I don't recommend it.
I thought it increased my BH contractions, and for a while there this morning I felt some lower back pain and a few almost painful contractions. So I had hope.
I had an ultrasound appointment at 2:30, so I walked there. It was maybe a 20 minute walk. I hoped that the walking would do something, but no.
The ultrasound lady felt really bad for me and gave me two pictures of Baby D, which hopefully I won't need to post because we'll have real pictures of his external self soon enough. But anyway, it was good to know that he's still measuring big. As in, the docs think he's just barely 41 weeks, but he measures at almost 42.
This is not actually that awesome, except that it does validate my belief that he was supposed to be here sooner than he has been.
He was very wiggly, which the ultrasound lady said meant that he wasn't settling down to be born yet. :^(
SETTLE DOWN, KID!
BE BORN!!!
Thursday, July 7, 2011
castor oil prep
So tomorrow I'm supposed to take that castor oil. Carl found some at the store today and brought it home--the whole bottle is 4 oz. Which happens to be the recommended dose.
It's. So. Big.
I saw it and just about had a heart attack. Whoa, terrifying. I am REALLY SO NOT EXCITED to drink it.
I just did a bunch of research and discovered that normally people have 1-2 tbsp in scrambled eggs for breakfast, and then drink 5-6 tbsp mixed with root beer every hour after that until something happens. We don't have any root beer, but we do have diet Coke left over from when my grandpa was helping us move in. So I guess that's what I'll be drinking.
Right now the plan is to start the process right when I wake up. Since that's typically 5 or 6 am--sadly, without an alarm clock--it should put "something happening" before Carl has to leave for work, so he doesn't have to get halfway there and turn around or something.
Anyway. Oh boy. So scary. Ah!
It's. So. Big.
I saw it and just about had a heart attack. Whoa, terrifying. I am REALLY SO NOT EXCITED to drink it.
I just did a bunch of research and discovered that normally people have 1-2 tbsp in scrambled eggs for breakfast, and then drink 5-6 tbsp mixed with root beer every hour after that until something happens. We don't have any root beer, but we do have diet Coke left over from when my grandpa was helping us move in. So I guess that's what I'll be drinking.
Right now the plan is to start the process right when I wake up. Since that's typically 5 or 6 am--sadly, without an alarm clock--it should put "something happening" before Carl has to leave for work, so he doesn't have to get halfway there and turn around or something.
Anyway. Oh boy. So scary. Ah!
new induction date
Just got off the phone with the midwife. My new induction date is July 12.
Yesterday she suggested that if nothing had happened by tomorrow, to drink some castor oil. :^/ I'm not super thrilled about the idea but I guess that's better than getting shot up with pitocin or whatever.
Baby D dropped further yesterday, I noticed. By the end of the day he was a full centimeter lower than he had been in the morning.
I have an ultrasound scheduled for tomorrow afternoon to make sure the amniotic fluid levels are okay.
Other than that. Just chillin in bed, trying to decide if I should go bounce on my birth ball, or take a nap. Decisions, decisions....
Yesterday she suggested that if nothing had happened by tomorrow, to drink some castor oil. :^/ I'm not super thrilled about the idea but I guess that's better than getting shot up with pitocin or whatever.
Baby D dropped further yesterday, I noticed. By the end of the day he was a full centimeter lower than he had been in the morning.
I have an ultrasound scheduled for tomorrow afternoon to make sure the amniotic fluid levels are okay.
Other than that. Just chillin in bed, trying to decide if I should go bounce on my birth ball, or take a nap. Decisions, decisions....
the productive day
Yesterday was a crazily productive day. Since my due date, I've pretty much done as little as possible, but yesterday when my body woke me up at 5 am, I decided to just go with it and get some stuff done.
Dishes, laundry, cleaning floors, hanging art, organizing rooms, taking things to the recycling. And then we went to the midwife! I had to be there at 2:45 for my 3:30 appointment. I ended up leaving the office at 4:15.
The stress test showed that Baby D is doing just fine, which is good. Also showed that my contractions are still irregular, which is less good. The cervical exam showed that I am STILL only 2 cm dilated and 50% effaced. Still. After a full week. X.x;;;;;;
In the evening Carl and I did acupressure while we watched So You Think You Can Dance. Here is my favorite dance of the evening (dance starts at 3:20):
Also another favorite dance (starts at 3:10):
Dishes, laundry, cleaning floors, hanging art, organizing rooms, taking things to the recycling. And then we went to the midwife! I had to be there at 2:45 for my 3:30 appointment. I ended up leaving the office at 4:15.
The stress test showed that Baby D is doing just fine, which is good. Also showed that my contractions are still irregular, which is less good. The cervical exam showed that I am STILL only 2 cm dilated and 50% effaced. Still. After a full week. X.x;;;;;;
In the evening Carl and I did acupressure while we watched So You Think You Can Dance. Here is my favorite dance of the evening (dance starts at 3:20):
Also another favorite dance (starts at 3:10):
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
how to do things faster
Found this video today, here:
No information on how to make babies be born faster, but very useful tips on how to do lots of other things. I will definitely have to try that shoe-tying trick and the shirt-folding trick.
I would try the hard-boiled egg trick but you know, it doesn't look that sanitary to me.
No information on how to make babies be born faster, but very useful tips on how to do lots of other things. I will definitely have to try that shoe-tying trick and the shirt-folding trick.
I would try the hard-boiled egg trick but you know, it doesn't look that sanitary to me.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
bleh
Yesterday we broke into the bag of snacks I got for the hospital. It's been awesome (we have fantastic taste in treats) but also depressing. Kind of hoped that 1) they would have been eaten by now 2) because we'd have eaten them in the actual hospital. Oh well.
I think every day for the past 6 days has been a "chilling" day, but today is another one. All I am doing is basically sitting in bed. I guess at 2:30 I have to go over and watch James again, but other than that, my job is just to eat and rest and wait.
:^(
Hurry, kid!!
I think every day for the past 6 days has been a "chilling" day, but today is another one. All I am doing is basically sitting in bed. I guess at 2:30 I have to go over and watch James again, but other than that, my job is just to eat and rest and wait.
:^(
Hurry, kid!!
Monday, July 4, 2011
patience
The past few days have been an exercise in patience.
[Still no baby.]
Two days ago, I felt that I should concentrate my scripture study on the book of Ecclesiastes, which I haven't read/studied in a while. Over the past two days, I've been looking at it, and I didn't really see why it was so important to study at first.
Today, I studied over breakfast. I'd been reading the book all the way through, and I finally was at Ecclesiastes 11. This is the text of Ecclesiastes 11:5:
I'm pretty sure that verse is why I needed to read Ecclesiastes again.
It kind of reminds me of this sentiment from 1 Nephi, which I have always loved:
Two weeks ago today Carl gave me a priesthood blessing for the birth and it counseled me to be patient. Waiting has been pretty lame (obviously). But the experience is teaching me to turn more readily to the scriptures for answers--and to trust that even though I don't know the meaning of all things, I know that God loves His children, and He doesn't make mistakes. This silly baby will be born when he's ready. I know God's watching out for him, and for me. This is all for the best.
[Still no baby.]
Two days ago, I felt that I should concentrate my scripture study on the book of Ecclesiastes, which I haven't read/studied in a while. Over the past two days, I've been looking at it, and I didn't really see why it was so important to study at first.
Today, I studied over breakfast. I'd been reading the book all the way through, and I finally was at Ecclesiastes 11. This is the text of Ecclesiastes 11:5:
As thou knowest not what is the way of the spirit, nor how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child: even so thou knowest not the works of God who maketh all.
I'm pretty sure that verse is why I needed to read Ecclesiastes again.
It kind of reminds me of this sentiment from 1 Nephi, which I have always loved:
And he said unto me: Knowest thou the condescension of God?
And I said unto him: I know that he loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things.
Two weeks ago today Carl gave me a priesthood blessing for the birth and it counseled me to be patient. Waiting has been pretty lame (obviously). But the experience is teaching me to turn more readily to the scriptures for answers--and to trust that even though I don't know the meaning of all things, I know that God loves His children, and He doesn't make mistakes. This silly baby will be born when he's ready. I know God's watching out for him, and for me. This is all for the best.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
no baby!
People keep calling to ask if the baby is born. Here's what they should be asking instead:
Did I see an announcement of this baby being born on A) this blog or B) Facebook? OR, if I am a relative/beloved friend of Allie/Carl, did I receive a phone call or at least a text message to let me know about this baby's birth?
If the answer is no, then... NO BABY!!
In the meantime, I have been scheduled for an induction on July 13. Hopefully he will come sooner than that, because I find myself growing more desperate by the hour. I think I've cried like 6 times today, just because I am so sick of being pregnant. Yesterday, I didn't think I would be so desperate. But today, I definitely am.
I don't really know why. I'm gigantic, but actually I weigh exactly the same as I did at 36 weeks. And my fundal height is exactly the same as well. I'm as big as I've been for over a month.
I'm not really in pain, and although being swollen all the time is uncomfortable, it's not terrible.
But for whatever reason, the thought of being pregnant tomorrow just makes me want to cry and cry.
So anyway, if you're tempted to call and ask if the baby is born, don't do that, because if you don't already know about him, he isn't born yet, and being reminded of that will probably make me cry.
Did I see an announcement of this baby being born on A) this blog or B) Facebook? OR, if I am a relative/beloved friend of Allie/Carl, did I receive a phone call or at least a text message to let me know about this baby's birth?
If the answer is no, then... NO BABY!!
In the meantime, I have been scheduled for an induction on July 13. Hopefully he will come sooner than that, because I find myself growing more desperate by the hour. I think I've cried like 6 times today, just because I am so sick of being pregnant. Yesterday, I didn't think I would be so desperate. But today, I definitely am.
I don't really know why. I'm gigantic, but actually I weigh exactly the same as I did at 36 weeks. And my fundal height is exactly the same as well. I'm as big as I've been for over a month.
I'm not really in pain, and although being swollen all the time is uncomfortable, it's not terrible.
But for whatever reason, the thought of being pregnant tomorrow just makes me want to cry and cry.
So anyway, if you're tempted to call and ask if the baby is born, don't do that, because if you don't already know about him, he isn't born yet, and being reminded of that will probably make me cry.
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