Born!

Our son, S, was born at 10:30 pm on June 16th 2014.

I won't go into details about the labor here (gross and personal and whatnot), but I think I will write them down elsewhere, before I really forget what it was like.

The last week has been a dream and a struggle.  Dave and I are awed by the little life we created and have brought home to be part of our family.  We are also discovering how completely in the dark we are about raising a newborn.

The first drama happened when we took him to the pediatrician, only to discover that he was underweight, and jaundiced. They were ready to send him back to the hospital. Dave and I were stunned.  What were we doing wrong?  Well, Stef wasn't taking to breastfeeding as naturally as one might have hoped, and it took about four days for my milk to come in. For these reasons, he was undernourished.

The three of us were hustled over to the lactation department at Sutter.  There, we discovered what we needed to make our son healthy again. Thus began the regimen of pumping my breast-milk every two hours and dumping the product into our baby via a bottle.  We dedicated ourselves to this task completely. The results were gradual, but good. 48 hours later (and who knows how many oz of breast-milk squeezed from me), Steph had put on 5 oz, and his jaundice reading was down 2 whole points.  YES.

We're not done yet.  The goal is to get him to his birth weight and then adjust as needed.  Ideally, I'd like to breast-feed exclusively, but there may be some nipple-confusion since we've been dedicated ourselves to simply getting the milk INSIDE him, not on HOW we get it inside him.  That comes next.  I do hope the lactation center can help me with that one.

Anyway, worrying over my son has turned me into a basket case. I'm weepy, anxious, and now, obsessively hooked up to a breast-pump.

Things will get better, I'm sure.

Gestational what?

Friday was my last day at work.  I managed to print out a full binder full of my work duties that will be ready and waiting for my temp on Monday.

I drove from my office to my next prenatal appointment with Midwife-de jour.  It was then that the nurse noticed something was off with my blood pressure.  Thinking that perhaps it was a mistake, she had another nurse take my blood pressure.  Both times it registered as abnormally high.  Midwife sent me from my exam, straight to Dominican where the labor and delivery people hooked me up to some machines.  I was there for SIX HOURS.

The results were this: Gestational hypertension.  My blood work came back sparkling clean, and I didn't have any other weird symptoms.  It was just my blood pressure that was consistently high.  So, I got a prescription for BP meds and was instructed to go on bed-rest.  Bummer.

I had plans.  I was going to go on a cleaning-frenzy this weekend and as soon as Monday came, I was going to go to the pool and bob around like a cork every day until I went into labor.  Now I'm stuck here until my next medical appointment.  *mope*

EAT ALL THE THINGS

Here's a brief overview of my pregnancy eating habits:

1st Trimester: Ugh. Morning sickness is awful.  I don't want to eat anything. My appetite is lumping all taste sensations together in one big pile of 'meh.' This means brownies have the same lack of appeal as brussel sprouts.

2nd Trimester: Interesting.  Some foods I usually don't like sound very tasty (spicy meats and meat sauces), and some foods I usually enjoy sound very unappealing (chinese food). 

Last month of pregnancy: OMG FOOD IS DELICIOUS AND I'M HUNGRY ALL THE TIME OM NOM NOM NOM NOM.

Convention Dilemma

Me: "Hey hon? Do you want to do a day-trip to KublaCon this weekend?  We've never been, and I think you'd have a lot of fun."

Him: "I don't know.  Yeah, it would be fun, but we're really close to your due date. I don't know if I want to take you that far out of town."

Me: "Oh come on. If I DID go into labor at a gaming convention, imagine how much geek cred we'd have after that.  We'd be LEGENDS."

Week 33. Week of the watermelon

Saturday was a lovely, wonderful day.  K threw a baby shower for me and for D, and baby to-be-named-later.

About a dozen of our friends showed up to Highland park to eat cupcakes, drink lemonade, and laugh about parenthood with us. 

Here are some of the more hilarious parts of the party:

D: "We're going to need to hire a wet-nurse."
Me: "Why? I'm planning to breast-feed and it's not 1850."
D: "But we'll still need a wet-nurse."
J: "Dude, what do you think 'wet-nurse' means?"
D: "A nurse who takes care of all the wet things."
EVERYONE LAUGHS.

A: "Sorry I'm late.  I woke up hungover at a stranger's house in Benecia and realized I needed to be 80 miles away.  Here's some money."

Funny Husband is Funny.

Me: "I guess we're not going on our annual Memorial Day camping trip out to Memorial Campground."

Dave: "Why not?"

Me: "Are you kidding?  I'll be eight million months pregnant."

Dave: "Oh, that shouldn't matter.  We can still camp."

Me: "What if I go into labor?"

Dave: "Fort Hunter-Liggett must have medics.  And I have a multi-tool!"

How cats react to my pregnancy

Charlie - Full public defection.  The lap he used to enjoy so has been invaded by enormous lump that prevents him from getting his face all up in my face with any convenience.  He's gone over to Dave's lap for attention and never misses a chance to glare resentfully at me.  However, at night, he still sneaks between me and Dave to snuggle under my arm. 

Socks - Little to no change.  He makes do with less lap space and pretends he doesn't notice.  It's hard for him to pretend, though, when Squirt wants to "lap-share."  As the weather grows warmer, he spends less time on the lap anyway, as he has the heaviest coat in the house, and gets over-warm easily.

Squirt - Increased lap-time.  Perhaps this is due to her smaller size and having the thinnest coat.  Every so often, she'll rest a paw on my stomach, as though she's feeling for the kicking baby.  Can cats hear the heartbeat?  Or sense the hormone changes?

Psyche - What pregnancy?  Put some food in the bowl.

No Rest For the Pregnant.

I've got a full weekend ahead of me:

Friday night - Remove the television from the wall in media room, so Dave can sheetrock/spackle the hole that was once a window.  Remove most of the furniture in preparation for painting.  Vacuum floor and organize furniture where possible.

Saturday - Clean media room (we call it that for lack of a better word) by pulling everything off the walls and moving the furniture out. Yes, I'm aware that I can't move furniture, but I can help with other stuff.   Paint media room with Killz undercoat, and then with Forest Green paint (it's non-VOC and the room is well ventilated, so I can help).  Yup.  It will be a green room (all the theatre folks LOL).  Prepare for a visit from S, by planning meals and setting up a corner bed.

Sunday - S arrives with crib for us.  Entertain her as much as possible without a media room. 

Monday - S goes home, D and I go to work.  Leave work early to meet the carpeters at 3:00.  While D stays with carpeters, throw Squirt into a cat carrier to go to her vet appointment at 5:00.  Help D move all the stuff back into the media room. 

At the end of all of this, we should have a lovely, clean, green, carpeted media room with baby-safe cabinets. 

*collapse*

Book list

According to my coworkers, I'm reading more about pregnancy than they ever did during their own pregnancies.  I hate to admit to them that I'm reading out of anxiety.  I want to make myself aware of most of the potential complications so I have Plans B, C, D, E and OH F in place before my "time" comes. 

Books I'm dragging around with me:

What to Expect When You're Expecting 4th Ed. (of course)
- This book is practically written in bullet point style.  It's ridiculously easy to follow.  I especially like how it details all of the pregnancy symptoms by month.  On more than one occasion, I'll read about a "weird" symptom I thought I had, and it turns out to be harmless and normal.  My friend K loaned me a hardcopy, but I've got it on my Kindle as well, for quick reference.

Ina May's Guide to Childbirth by Ina May Gaskin
- I've only just started this one.  So far, it's all real stories from women about their actual birthing expieriences.  There stories range from joyous to horrific. 

Active Childbirth by Janet Balaskas
- Haven't started this one yet, but it's supposed to have exercises that will help during natural childbirth. 

It's Not You, It's Me.

My obstetrician, whom I've grown attached to to in the past few months has decided to retire from obstetrics and has taken a position over at the local University. 

I got a heads-up about it from D, who used to work at the university's health department fixing their computers, and still has little birds over there.  But I didn't want to believe it when he told me.  She's my doctor.  She's helped me understand this crazy biological journey I'm making, and made me laugh about it when I was genuinely scared.  I don't want her to go.

When she broke the news to us, she did it in a very quick, matter-of-fact, but friendly way, a ripping-off-a-band-aid technique, if you will.  D chatted with her about people he knows where she'd going, while I sat on the examining perch and cried like a jilted teenager.  She gave me quick hug and referred me to a midwife she thinks I'll like.  Unless she breaks up with me too.

In other news, this baby will not stop kicking me.  It kicks in the front, in the back, and on the sides.  We've got a soccer player, a percussionist, or perhaps a Rockette. 

Interactions

Setting: Husband and I are lying in bed. I'm reading my Kindle, he's on his tablet.  Suddenly, I look up.

Me: "Here. It's kicking."  (I grab his hand and put it on my stomach.)
Him: "There it is. There it is again.  Wow, it's kicking really hard."
Me: "That's your child."
Him: "It sure is."
Me: "Kicking the crap out me." 
Him: (Affectionately) "Yeah."

Setting: I'm in my chair, reading my Kindle, and bawling my eyes out.  Husband enters the room and sees me sobbing.

Him: "Sweetie, what's the matter?"
Me: (still sobbing) "Nothing.  I'm fine."
Him: "What are you reading?"
Me: "Shogun."
Him: "Oh, is it a romantic part?"
Me: "No, I'm reading about the fuedal lords who are trying to out-manuever each other militarily in order to gain political strength."
Him: "...and that's making you cry?"
Me: "I don't know why the hell I'm crying."
Him: "Oh. Well, let me know if there's anything I can do to help, okay?"
Me: "'Kay. Thanks, sweetie."

Blogger's Block

I've been having a bit of trouble trying to write the next post.  This should be easy.  I think I'm making it harder than it should be.  I wrote a whole post about how I was annoyed at someone who made some stupid comment about me not wearing a wedding ring.  As it turns out, I don't really care what they think.  The end. 

Anyway.  I guess I'll just post a bullet point list of stuff that's been going on in and around my life:

- The carpet situation is not resolved.  The bedroom is done, but not in the color we wanted.  The front room still has it's old carpet. Our belongings are still in boxes.  The whole experience has been an epic pain the neck, and we're trying to get it worked out with Costco. I'll make sure to post a very long yelp review documenting the entire thing, but I'd really rather not do it here. 

 - I've been swimming in the pool at my gym.  It's done wonders for my aching joints and ligaments.  Also, I bought a maternity swimsuit from Old Navy, as my old swimsuit was becoming nigh indecent. 

- I heard that UCSC had hired a doctor.  My obstetrician.  I don't know if this is a fact, at this point it's only a rumor.  But I'm supposed to have an appointment with her on Thursday, so I will ask her about it then.  This causes me some anxiety. I may have some unresolved abandonment issues.

- I am officially fat with baby.  Here.  See.

 

As stupid selfies aren't really my thing, I'm looking for a photographer, amateur or professional, who might be able to take some nicer pictures of me while I'm still prenatal.  As much as I love my husband, I'd rather he not do it.  So if you guys know anybody, ping me with their name and I'll get it touch.  Thanks!



Boy? Girl? Birgl?

I've mentioned before, that D and I are waiting until the baby's born to find out the sex.  Honestly, I didn't really care if we waited or not, but D's opinion is, "there are only a few real surprises in life and this is one of them." So I'm going with him in that. 

This waiting-game turns out to be a lot of fun for my friends and relatives, especially my sisters and nieces.  I got a text from my older sister telling me she dreamed I had a girl named Olivia.  I got a text from my younger sister saying she thinks it's a boy (which was also the first thing she said to me when I told her I was pregnant).  My nieces both think it's a girl.  With only sisters, and nothing but girls for cousins, it would seem I'm destined to have a girl (if you buy into that sort of thing).  However, D only has brothers, and plenty of boy cousins. When D refers to the baby, he calls it "she." I'm not sure if he really thinks it's a girl, or if he's saying "she" in a generic way like you'd refer to a car or a boat. 

Honestly, not holding with superstition, I have no idea.  I don't have any feelings or intuitions in those directions.  But I'm enjoying the ever increasing squirming I feel as "she" swims around in the mothership. 

5 months and counting

2 Things that need doing:

The Carpet - This has been a comedy of errors ever since we picked 2 colors and one of them didn't exist anymore.  Well, purple exists as a rule, but not in the texture and thickness we want.  This led to a miscommunication about when the carpet would be installed.  We picked a replacement color and were just informed that THAT color doesn't exist either. Finally, frustrated because our house is inside-out, we said, "DO IT ALL IN BLACK. DO YOU HAVE ENOUGH OF THAT?"  Still waiting for the return phone call. Le sigh.

Baby Registry - I've been dreading this.  I know most new moms adore this part because it involves shopping.  I don't mind shopping, but I feel completely clueless about what I really need and what stores and the media THINK I need.  I will require a sherpa for this particular task, and my friend K has generously volunteered to help me.  Again, schedule coordination is needed because her new boss is a super-demanding 1-year-old. 

Nestrocious

I had no idea that the act of "nesting" would involve so many sacks of garbage. 

Let me tell you a little something about myself.  I constantly attempt to minimalize, and I'm constantly fighting my desire to acquire things.  My mother was an avid stuff-lover.  She had a deep, artistic spirit that saw beauty and potential in things and people.  Things had personalities.  I don't see that in things, but I loved my mother and I loved that aspect of her personality.  Because of that, I find it tremendously difficult to discard things she loved, even though she's not around to appreciate them anymore.  I have no fewer than 10 plastic tubs of china, milk bottles, and various knickknacks that belonged to my mother, her mother, and her grandmother.  I doubt they have much monetary value attached to them, but they're heirlooms and I'm a prisoner to them.  Here's an example of a couple of treasured decorations:

My own stuff, however, I'm not nearly as attached to.  I recently got rid of about half my clothes.  I didn't do this because I'm pregnant.  I did it because I'm 36 and some of those cute little outfits that I wore in my 20s might fit me again, but at my age, will make me look like I'm trying too hard.  My time for mini-skirts has come and gone.  I got rid of 2/3 of my yarn stash and most of my sewing fabric.  There's no room to sew, really, and I'm done with cheap yarn forever.  I'd have to say, in the past two weeks, I've substantially reduced my possessions.  However, there's still TONS of stuff lying around and I'm very unhappy about it.

Something's going to have to give because we have 650 sq ft to live on, and a baby on the way. 

198 square feet

We're getting new carpet.  Not for the whole house, just for the two small rooms.  That's a good thing because the carpet we have is old, knarly, and making me sneeze.  We picked purple for the bedroom, and "cosmic black" for the media room.  We're going through Costco, so we're pretty confident that we'll get a good deal.  Also, the cats approve of the samples.  Target audience, right?

That's all there is, there ain't no more.

So, I'm married.  Mostly.  I still have to drop the license off at the courthouse, but it's signed. So, married.

D and I discussed it thoroughly.  He doesn't want a circus, and I don't want to spend money, so there will be no wedding.  I'm talking NO WEDDING.  No rings, no cake, no dress, no ceremony, the end.

But we needed our friends to sign the license, so A was our officiant, and K was our witness.  A, in his lovable way, insisted on "officiating," and asked if D took me as his "lawful wedded husband." To which he said, "I do." We laughed, fist-bumped and cheered gay marriage.  So, as non-weddings go, I would say it was a success.

Now I just have to go through the rigmarole of changing my last name.  Frigging, SIGH.

n.b. I wore my red t-shirt showing cats playing Settlers of Catan. Dave wore a black t-shirt with a Wanted poster of Schrodinger's Cat (wanted dead & alive).