Summer Dreams...

After our first, largely unsuccessful attempt at having a vegetable garden last year, we are rethinking and replanning and restructuring with hopes that this year's garden will yield more veggies and less heartache. (We did learn a lot last year, like how you shouldn't wait until mid-June to plant and we did end up with a couple of HUGE cucumbers, so it wasn't a total loss.) Aaron has been busy planning out the garden and since we live in Wisconsin and our backyard currently looks like this:

we decided to go ahead and purchase some seed starter kits and get the garden started indoors now. A couple of weekends ago, Aaron and Grace planted beans and cukes and peppers in one of the kits, and already we are seeing some results.

Aaron and Grace finished planting the remaining four seed kits yesterday afternoon, so now we have our very own indoor garden growing in our living room.

All of this planting has kicked my cabin fever into overdrive. Yesterday afternoon our dining room smelled of fresh soil and all I could think of was kicking off my shoes and socks and walking around barefoot in the warm grass. I can't wait to be able to take these fledgling little plants out of these kits and get them into the ground outside, and I really can't wait to be able to pick and eat some tasty fresh veggies out of our garden.

Month One

Happy one month birthday, Harrison. One month ago today you came into our lives, earlier than we had expected, and you changed everything. You have turned our worlds upside down...you keep us up at night, you keep us busy during the day, you keep us on our toes, and we are so, so happy to have you.

It's so cool to see your little personality developing. You love to just chill out, snuggling with Mommy or Daddy or Big Sister. You're happiest when someone is hugging you tight and nuzzling your soft cheeks. You hate to be messed with--you hate diaper changes and you REALLY hate baths and if Mommy happens to have cold or wet hands when she picks you up, you wrinkle up your little face and voice your disdain. And when you are awake, you love to just look around, soaking up everything you can about the world around you. You love to listen to what is going on around you and your little face lights up in interest when you hear us talking to you or to each other.

You've only been here one month, and already I can't imagine my life without you, my little man. I love you and you now and forever will occupy a very special place in my heart. How lovely it is to be your mama.

The Boob Question

Lately there has been a lot of chatter on the mommy blogs and in the media about breastfeeding and whether or not it really is best for our babies. I'm a little late to this party since I am just getting around to posting about this issue now, but I wanted to throw my two cents out there, just for giggles. And, since I have a newborn at home, this issue is particularly close to my heart right now...

For those of you who haven't read the article that seems to have started this most recent conversation about breastfeeding, check it out here. It's a long article and parts of it irritated the crap out of me, but the thing that caught my attention was the author's assertion that there is no conclusive evidence that breastfeeding is better than formula feeding. According to the article,

"....After a couple of hours, the basic pattern became obvious: the medical literature looks nothing like the popular literature. It shows that breast-feeding is probably, maybe, a little better; but it is far from the stampede of evidence that Sears describes. More like tiny, unsure baby steps: two forward, two back, with much meandering and bumping into walls. A couple of studies will show fewer allergies, and then the next one will turn up no difference. Same with mother-infant bonding, IQ, leukemia, cholesterol, diabetes. Even where consensus is mounting, the meta studies—reviews of existing studies—consistently complain about biases, missing evidence, and other major flaws in study design. “The studies do not demonstrate a universal phenomenon, in which one method is superior to another in all instances,” concluded one of the first, and still one of the broadest, meta studies, in a 1984 issue of Pediatrics, “and they do not support making a mother feel that she is doing psychological harm to her child if she is unable or unwilling to breastfeed.”

So, given all of this, I find it interesting that many, many mothers, fathers, health care providers, and others go to such lengths to convince us all that breastfeeding is so much better than feeding our babies formula. In fact, I was hard pressed to find any good information and advice on formula feeding in any of my baby books or on the baby care websites I frequent, and in Aaron's favorite baby book, The Expectant Father, the author assumes that moms will nurse their babies and doesn't offer any wisdom on formula feeding at all to expectant dads. It's almost like society is making the decision for us, and I don't like that one bit. Isn't it up to my husband and me to decide what is best for our baby?

Now, I understand the benefits of breastfeeding. I understand that it is way, way more convenient than bottle feeding. I know that it provides an opportunity for precious, wonderful bonding time for moms and their children. I also recognize that there is a lot of evidence out there that shows that breast milk is superior to formula. For a lot of women, the decision to breastfeed their babies is a no-brainer. But what about the rest of us??

I nursed Gracie for less than two weeks before I quit. I didn't quit nursing because we couldn't do it...on the contrary, Grace was an eager eater and I had no trouble at all nursing her from the get-go. She had latched on successfully mere hours after she was born and had I decided to keep on nursing her, I have no doubts at all that we would have nursed successfully for as long as I wanted her to. However, my life situation was vastly different at that time. I didn't have the spousal support that I have now and there was so much other crap happening in my life at that time that nursing Grace was way too mentally taxing for me. I needed for someone else to be able to help me out with her feedings, and I wasn't educated enough about pumping and giving breast milk through a bottle at that time for that to be a feasible option for me. So, Grace started on formula at about two weeks of age and she never went back to breast milk. And I think she turned out just fine--she is a healthy, smart, happy, well-adjusted kid. In fact, she is sick way, way less than other kids her age...kids that were fed exclusively breast milk. There's my anecdotal evidence that maybe, just maybe, breast milk isn't SO much better at building kids' immune systems than formula is.

When I found out that I was pregnant with Harrison, Aaron and I had some serious heart-to-heart talks about nursing. Aaron wanted me to nurse our baby, but I was still harboring some negative feelings about the experience from the short time I nursed Grace and I wasn't sold on the idea. I promised Aaron that I would make a concerted effort to nurse our new baby but made no promises. So, after Harrison was born and we discovered that he is tongue-tied and physically cannot achieve a good latch-on (well, he might be able to if we clipped his frenulum, but we're not going there yet), the decision was not about whether or not I should nurse, but rather about whether or not I should pump and offer Harry breast milk through the bottle. We decided to go ahead with the pumping, but even with me pumping every three hours or so, Harrison's appetite is way ahead of my supply so we started supplementing with formula for a few feedings each day. Do I feel bad that my baby isn't receiving exclusively breast milk? Not at all. On the contrary, I am thrilled that our little guy has such an awesome appetite and I am happy to feed him breast milk when we have enough available, but I am just as happy to be able to provide him with formula when the breast milk stores are running low.

There's another facet to this as well. One downside of nursing exclusively is that it leaves dads out of the feeding process. Sure, there are lots and lots of other ways for dads to bond with their children apart from feeding them, but there is just something about watching Aaron feeding Harrison that makes me so happy that both of them have that opportunity. And, our parents and siblings are able to feed Harry, too, when they are visiting us, and I know they cherish that time with our little guy since they don't get to see him that often. Yes, mother/child bonding is extremely important, but so is father/child bonding, and grandparent/child bonding, etc. Even Harrison's pediatrician has told me on more than one occasion that he agrees with our decision to pump and supplement because of the opportunity it gives Aaron to feed Harrison.

And then there's the question of going back to work full time while nursing and/or pumping. I would agree that nursing would be more convenient for stay at home moms, but for those of us that work outside the home, there are definite and real obstacles to nursing/pumping. I have to go back to work at twelve weeks postpartum and my employer does not have a room exclusively for pumping. Sure, we have a "women's lounge" that some of my coworkers have utilized for pumping in the past, but how comfortable am I going to feel pumping twice or three times a day while whomever strolls through the lounge on their way to the restroom? Should I go out to my car to pump instead? And will my supervisor allow me a few fifteen-minute breaks each day to go and pump? I'm not saying that these things will absolutely keep me from pumping--in fact, I plan to keep right on pumping once I go back to work--but these obstacles will make things more difficult for me. (Side note...Canada offers new moms one year of maternity leave. One year. We get twelve stinking weeks, and that's only if we've been employed with our employers full-time for more than a year and our employers employ more than 50 employees. Maybe it's time we take a queue from our neighbors to the north.)

I guess what I am saying is that the decision to breastfeed or not to breastfeed, like all decisions when it comes to parenting, is a personal decision. For many parents, it's not an easy choice or one that is clear-cut, but at least let's get the facts out there so that the decision can maybe be a little easier for those that are on the fence. Let's remind everyone that if parents decide not to breastfeed their children, they are not causing their children any harm. Let's remember that there are so many facets to parenting in addition to feeding, and succeeding in all of those areas together make a happy and healthy child.

EDD

Today is my original due date...Harrison was due today. He had his own ideas about this, though...


And here I am, snuggling my little man and thanking my lucky stars I didn't have to push an eight-plus pounder out of my va-jay-jay.

The Fog

When do babies start sleeping through the night? I have vague memories of going back to work at six weeks postpartum with Gracie and still having to wake up twice or three times a night with her at that point, but I am *hoping* that my memory is cloudy and she was sleeping through the night by then. Pretty sure that's not the case, though...

So Harrison is on a three to four-hour eating schedule, and unfortunately he keeps that schedule both day and night. I took Harry in to the pediatrician on Wednesday for his three-week checkup and his doctor was amazed at his progress...this is the kid who refused to eat when he was a couple of days old, but who is now eagerly eating four (sometimes even five) ounces at a clip and has gained darn near two pounds since birth. Yes, this is a very good thing...Harrison is now on pace with babies his age that were born at term and he's making a near-vertical climb up the growth curb. But damn, this is exhausting.

Gotta jet...Gracie is telling me that I have had enough "computer time" for today...

Life With a Baby

So, I know my posting has been scant over the past few weeks, but there's a newborn in the hizzy and I haven't had much time to shower, let alone sit down for a few minutes and think of something (sorta) brilliant to blog about. So here is my feeble attempt to update y'all on My New Life...

Harrison has morphed from feeble preemie into full-fledged newborn, eating and pooping and sleeping on a semi-predictable schedule. He has been eating every 2-3 hours or so during the day, and at night sometimes he sleeps for a 4-hour stretch (although that doesn't happen often), and he has been averaging 3-4 ounces of breastmilk per feeding. I am still pumping every three hours to keep up with Harrison's demand, although I ran into a snag when I had to return my rented hospital-grade pump back to the hospital and I purchased a less-than-stellar electric double pump and my milk supply slowly started to dwindle. Because of this, we decided to bite the bullet and buy the Medela Pump-in-Style last night, so hopefully that takes care of the problem, otherwise we'll be stuck with a very expensive pump and some serious feelings of inadequacy.

Other than that, Harrison is doing really well. He is awake for longer stretches now, so we are able to spend time chatting with him (well, chatting AT him) and gazing into those beautiful eyes. And, although I know it is probably gas, I swear he smiles at me as he drifts off to sleep in my arms...that makes all of the sleepless nights more than worth it.

Lots of people have asked me how Grace is doing with a new brother, and my answer is always, "Better than we expected." Sure, we did have a couple of rough days at the beginning (the first time she saw me kiss Harrison, she said, "You don't love me," and then she ripped my heart out of my chest and tore it into bite-sized pieces. Just kidding about the last part.), but on the whole, she has been doing pretty darn well. She did sleep on her own in her room for several nights in a row right after Harry came home, but now she is back to falling asleep in her room and then coming in by us during the night, and that seems to be working out all right for now. And, she has pretty much gotten over the initial jealousy that she was feeling and even offers to help me out with diaper changes and baths. The best thing ever, though, is when it's time for her to say goodbye or good night to Harrison, and she gives him a little kiss on the head and says, "I love you, little brudder." Cutest thing ever.

And, Aaron and I are slowly but surely adjusting to the sleep deprivation and busy lifestyle that come with having a baby. I did have a mild case of the baby blues the first week or so after we got home, but I must be getting used to my new sleep schedule (or the hormones are wearing off a bit) because I have been feeling pretty okay for the past few days. Now I just need to find time to take a nice, hot shower and maybe grab, like, six hours of uninterrupted sleep...

In Defense of Co-Sleeping

Recently, a tragic story broke in the Milwaukee area in which a six-day old girl died while sleeping with her mother. (Link to story here.) Even more tragic is the fact that this same mother lost a child last April, apparently due to the same cause--co-sleeping with her child. Losing a child would be the most painful thing that I think I could possibly fathom, but losing two kids would be enough to land me in a mental hospital for the rest of my living days. I just wouldn't be able to move on. So, before I go any further, I want to make it clear that I am very sympathetic to this mother and that I am NOT judging her, because really, I just can't imagine the pain she is going through right now and my heart is breaking for her.

This story has the anti-family bed peeps foaming at the mouth, I'm sure. Here is just another instance of how those damn liberals and hippies are putting their kids in danger and leading them to death's door by allowing them to share a bed with their parents!! When will they ever learn??!?!

Except here's the thing...this mother admitted to police after her child died that she had gone to a party, gotten drunk, and didn't even remember picking up her children from their sitter or bringing them home. She didn't remember where she had put her poor child to sleep, but said that it was possible that she fell asleep on the couch with the baby. Her other baby that died last year is reported to have fallen asleep under the same type of circumstances.

Anyone who knows me or reads my blog knows that I am a proponent of co-sleeping. I shared a bed with Grace for the first two years of her life and I don't regret a moment of it. And, even though co-sleeping is not a goal of ours with Harrison, I have to say that I won't be upset if it happens. I believe that co-sleeping is a great way for parents to have extra time connecting with their children at the end of the day, and if it is done safely, the family bed can have many benefits for both the child and the parents.

That is the key--it must be done safely. Apart from making sure that your bed doesn't have any guardrails or other obstacles that could potentially trap your child, the number one thing to remember when co-sleeping is that you should never, ever, sleep with your child if you're under the influence of alcohol or drugs. According to askdrsears.com, "If you are drunk or drugged, these chemicals lessen your arousability from sleep." In other words, if you are so drunk that you don't even remember coming home from a party, you probably will not wake up automatically if you roll over on your baby and smother him or her. Dr. Sears also says, "Parents should use common sense when sharing sleep. Anything that could cause you to sleep more soundly than usual or that alters your sleep patterns can affect your baby's safety. Nearly all the highly suspected (but seldom proven) cases of fatal "overlying" I could find in the literature could have been avoided if parents had observed common sense sleeping practices."

Again, I don't want it to seem like I am judging this poor mother, but it seems to me that common sense was not exercised in this tragic case. A vast majority of us parents who make the decision to allow our children to sleep in our beds with us do put our children's safety first and we ensure that we are taking all of the proper precautions we should take in order to keep everyone safe. We really do believe that we are making the right decision for our family by co-sleeping and we are not just choosing to do it because we want to spoil our kids. I'd encourage anyone who would rush to judge parents (based on this one tragic story) who share a bed with their kids to do some more research and reconsider the facts...again, according to Dr. Sears, "Research shows that infants who sleep in a crib are twice as likely to suffer a sleep related fatality (including SIDS) than infants who sleep in bed with their parents."

Birth Story Part Four: The Arrival

Tater's trip down the birth canal was harder than average although the actual pushing phase of my labor was really quite short...all in all, I pushed anywhere from 15 to 20 minutes, depending on who you ask (Aaron says 15, I say 20). As I stated in my previous installment, my dilation occurred very, very rapidly at the end. I was at 6 cm at 2:15pm, and by 2:35-ish, I was fully dilated and ready to push.

But I didn't need anyone to tell me that I was fully dilated...all of a sudden, I felt this incredible, tremendous, undeniable urge to push and honestly, after all of those hours of waiting, that urge felt good. That urge is so hard to describe--it's the most powerful, earth-shattering thing and there is no escaping it once it hits. I screamed at my doctor and anyone that would listen that I needed to push RIGHT NOW and after that final cervical check was done and I was made to wait through one more agonizing contraction, I was given permission to push.

It took me a couple of pushes to get my bearings and remember how to push effectively, but once I got the hang of it, it was like second nature. I tried to get in three good pushes with each contraction (it was like push--breathe--push--breathe--push--cleansing breath), and with each push, I could feel Tater moving further and further down into the birth canal. The pain was excruciating but I could no longer feel the pain in my back. I mentioned this between contractions to Cheryl and she said that the baby was probably rotating into the proper position as he made his way down.

After only a few contractions, I began to have that unmistakable "ring of fire" sensation and I was excited for a few moments because I knew the moment was at hand and Tater would be born soon. I remember being extremely frightened of that sensation when Grace was born and actually pulling back a bit from my pushing efforts, but this time, even though I was in tons and tons of pain, I was able to pull myself together and force myself to literally push through the pain. With the help of the nurses, I grabbed the backs of my thighs, put my chin to my chest, and screamed until I was hoarse through those last few pushes. Suddenly, I was able to see Tater's head and I was being told to pant instead of push--Tater's cord was wrapped around his neck so I needed to stop pushing for a moment so Dr. Fab could pull it off. Then, once I was given the ok to push again, his head was out, and then one push later, the rest of him came. Harrison Glen was born at 2:54pm.

The first thing I said after Harrison was born was, "That's so much better," and that drew laughter from everyone in the room, but I wasn't just talking about the pain being gone (although that was WONDERFUL). After having a miscarriage last year and after having a rough third trimester with this pregnancy, I was just so, so thankful to actually be able to see my son at last and know that he was all right.

After Harrison was born, Dr. Fab told us that she wanted him to go right over to the nurses because he was a little pale (really pale, actually), and of course Aaron and I consented. Aaron and I took a few moments to congratulate each other and cry together, and then I sent Aaron over to the warmer to be with Harrison while Dr. Fab finished up with me. I was still in some pain after the delivering Harrison, but the delivery of the placenta was mercifully easy (I didn't even have to push--Dr. Fab just kind of gently pulled it out) and after Dr. Fab examined me, she determined that I wouldn't need any stitches at all. I had torn only about 1 mm and she said that the tear was so small that it wasn't even worth fixing, so I was super thankful that I would be able to walk away from this delivery without even a stitch much less an episiotomy. (Almost two weeks postpartum now, I know that this made a HUGE difference in my recovery. The pain isn't nearly what it was last time, when I needed several stitches.)

Once I was cleaned up a bit and I was left alone, I rolled over onto my side and watched the nurses and Aaron with Harrison. I overheard that his weight was 6 lbs. 4 oz. and I was glad for that, especially since he was almost four weeks early. His APGAR scores were 7 and 8, and again, I was happy with that, especially given how pale he looked to me and the fact that he was a preemie. I watched Aaron's first moments with his son, and he just exuded happiness and pride as he talked to Harrison and took in the enormity of the moment. He was (and still is) the definition of the Proud Daddy.

It was decided that Harry would need to go to the nursery for a few hours because his blood pressure was lower than the nurses would have liked to see, but before he went, Aaron and I each had an opportunity to hold him for a while. I remember being really concerned about having enough love for another child (I love my daughter so much, after all, that loving another child THAT much seemed incomprehensible to me), but that fear melted away as soon as Harrison was placed in my arms. The love that I felt for him was immediate and all-consuming, and I learned that a mother's love has no limits. I spent a few precious moments holding my new son before passing him off to Aaron who held Harry for a while before he was taken to the nursery.

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Harrison ended up spending more than a few hours in the NICU--he actually ended up spending three nights there. His blood pressure rebounded after he was given a bolus of IV fluids, but the concern then became his eating...because he was a preemie, he wasn't able to learn to suck effectively and ended up needing an NG tube for his feedings until he was three days old, when miraculously he started to eat on his own and we were able to pull the tube.

(The whole eating thing did not come easily for him, though. I had fully planned on breastfeeding Harry, despite not having the best of luck nursing Gracie, but Harry is tongue-tied [his frenulum, the little piece of skin under his tongue, is longer than it should be and his tongue is more attached to the bottom of his mouth than it should be], which makes nursing nearly impossible since he is not able to achieve a good latch onto my breast. It also makes any attempt at nursing extremely painful. Our pediatrician told us that if we wanted to, we could have Harrison's frenulum clipped and he might be able to nurse, but honestly, I am not so married to the idea of actually nursing him that I feel the need to put him through more pain and possibly subject him to short-term eating issues. So we are not having his frenulum clipped, at least not right now. I am pumping every three hours and Aaron and I are both feeding Harrison my breast milk through a bottle.)

The other issue Harrison had in his first few days was jaundice. For some reason, Harry's trip down the birth canal left him with a huge, painful bruise on the back of his head--many people that saw him actually asked if Dr. Fab used a vacuum extractor on him because his poor little head was so bruised and misshapen--and it took Harrison's body a lot of time to reabsorb that blood and his liver was not able to handle it all at once, so the jaundice set in. This bought him several days on a phototherapy bed, not to mention lots of trips to the lab for heel sticks. and we were finally able to get rid of that all late last week. Thank goodness.

The bruise that he had on his head is still somewhat of a mystery to me. The bruise is gone now and his head has a wonderful round shape, but it was nasty for a few days. The best explanation that I have been able to get is that he was so high in my pelvis for most of my labor and then made such a rapid descent down the birth canal that his head was put through some pretty major trauma in a short amount of time. Also, both my doctor and the nurse that attended me during labor observed that I have a really small pelvis and that I probably wouldn't be able to deliver a baby over 7 pounds naturally, so that might have had something to do with it as well. Either way, the bruise caused Harrison more than just a bad headache.

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We have had Harrison home for a week now, and I have had lots of time to reflect on my birthing experience. Overall, it was a good one...for anyone in the Milwaukee area who is looking for a hospital to deliver their baby, I would highly, highly recommend the hospital where I delivered. The staff, both in L&D and in the NICU, was absolutely wonderful. They made me feel supported and cared for each step of the way and they made a difficult time for our family much more bearable. And, I am so, so glad that I decided to follow Dr. Fab to her new clinic and hospital. I really don't think I could have asked for a better or more attentive OB to lead me through this whole process. I made the right decision on that one.

I also wanted to mention one other person who I could not have done this without, and that is Aaron. I get teased occasionally because I tend to ooze and gush about my husband and how awesome he is on my blog and on my Facebook page, but man, I gotta give credit where it's due. I know this pregnancy was not easy on him, especially since this was his first time going through this and I know that he was afraid both for me and for Harrison. But, he was my rock throughout my pregnancy and he didn't falter during labor and delivery either. He was there for me every second that I needed him to be during labor and he did exactly what I needed him to do without me having to tell him. He joked with me and made me laugh when I needed to laugh, but he knew when I didn't want to joke around anymore and he let me be serious and quiet when I needed to be. He coached me through each contraction and reminded me that I am strong, even when I felt like I was at my weakest. And after Harry was born, he spent a lot of time reassuring me that everything was going to be all right when I'm sure he was just as scared as I was. I just can't imagine going through this experience with anyone else. Thanks, Aar, for being your usual awesome self.

So, that's it! Harrison is home, we're sleep deprived, and we're loving every minute of it.

Birth Story Part Three: Epidural, Schmepidural

Disclaimer: This is the part of the story in which the shit hits the fan. If you are at all squeamish about bodily fluids or talk of a screaming woman, you probably shouldn't read this particular post and just maybe wait to read the next installment, where baby is born. If that stuff doesn't bother you, read on...

So, my water broke at 7:05am and I wasn't even sure that is what happened at first, so I decided to call the nurse to see if she could help me out of bed to go to the bathroom. My new nurse, Cheryl, came in, and as I walked to the bathroom I left a trail of clear fluid behind me, and Cheryl said, "Yup, you're definitely ruptured." My heart soared, because this was my first tangible evidence that labor was underway. I also noticed as I walked that I was feeling A LOT more pressure on my bottom, and I considered this a good sign as well. In fact, the pressure was so strong that I had to stop and take several breaks on the way from the bathroom back to my bed to collect myself. Cheryl commented that I was definitely committed to having that baby today now that my water had broken, and I silently laughed at the nurse from the night before who suggested I might be going home to wait it out.

My contractions were also starting to pick up quite a bit. I was expecting this--when I went through my induction with Gracie, the one thing that managed to rocket me into labor was my water breaking, so I was prepared for labor to take off with a bang once that happened this time as well. I made Aaron take this opportunity to go down to the cafeteria to grab something to eat, since I wasn't sure that he would have that chance over the lunch hour. And, although my contractions were coming more frequently, they still weren't at the point where I felt I needed Aaron to coach me through them. I also called my parents to let them know what was happening, and I told them to go ahead and take Grace to school since I wasn't sure the baby would arrive before the end of her school day anyway.

Dr. Fab came in at 8:00am as promised, and she was pleased to hear about my progress. She informed me that another dose of Cytotech would definitely not be necessary at this point. She also brought up something neither of us had considered...the fact that I had had cryotherapy on my cervix a couple of years ago (about a year after I delivered Gracie--I had some precancerous cells on my cervix and they were removed). Dr. Fab mentioned that she thought of this after my 4:00am check and told me that because of the cryotherapy, there was scar tissue on my cervix and that was making it difficult for my cervix to dilate at the same rate a normal cervix would. At this point she checked me again, and sure enough, I was still only dilated 1 cm. Crap.

Cheryl, my wonderful nurse, told me that in cases like this when there is cervical scarring, the cervix tends to "pop" open after several hours of labor and then dilation occurs very rapidly. She also asked me what I had been thinking of in terms of pain medication, and I told her that although I hadn't ruled out having an epidural completely, that I would like to try other methods of pain control before going that route. Cheryl then brought me the consent form that I would need to sign should I decide to have an epidural and told me that I could sign it then and then if I decided that I didn't want the epidural, we could just tear the form up. She also warned me that with circumstances being what they were with my cervix, things could go very quickly and that if I was feeling the need for the epidural, I should ask for it right away so they could start pushing the fluids I would need immediately. The nice thing was that there was no pressure involved in what she was saying...it was purely informational and non-judgemental.

Before Dr. Fab left to head into the office, she decided to place a pressure catheter in my uterus to measure the strength of my contractions since she didn't feel that the external monitor was doing a good enough job of tracking them. Having her place that was very painful, especially when I would have a contraction, and I whimpered a bit as it was placed. She also attempted to place a scalp monitor on Tater's head to better monitor his heartrate (since again, they had such trouble tracking it via the external monitor), but she was not able to do so because I had not dilated enough. Dr. Fab said that she was going to head into the office for the morning but that she would be back at noon to check on things. She told me to feel free to relieve her of her morning appointments before then if I wanted to, and I laughed.

As the morning progressed, my contractions became strong enough that I needed Aaron to coach me through them and help me breathe through them. I was even getting to the point where it was helpful to moan through the contractions, and Aaron encouraged me to let it out and do what I needed to do to feel better. In fact, the contractions were strong enough and frequent enough that I asked for a dose of Nubain (I LOVE Nubain) mid-morning, and that took the edge off of the contractions for a while and actually relaxed me so much that I fell fast asleep between contractions. The only bad thing was that even though my contractions were strong and frequent and I had established an active labor pattern, they were still spaced out and they were not becoming more frequent--they had been coming every two to four minutes all morning. At this point, Cheryl suggested a "whiff" of Pitocin, just to pick things up a bit. I agreed, and Cheryl paged Dr. Fab to see what she thought, but Dr. Fab said that she wanted to wait until she came in at noon to see what kind of progress I was making before going that route.

Noon came, and so did Dr. Fab. She noticed that my contractions were getting much stronger (both from the readings from the pressure catheter and from my moaning and yelling through contractions) and so she did another cervical check--2 cm. I couldn't believe it. I was so disgusted. From what I remembered from my labor with Grace, I was having these types of contractions when I was heading into transition, and I was terrified that if I was feeling this way at 2 cm, I would feel much, much worse as my labor progressed. I expressed my frustration at the situation, and Dr. Fab gave me my options. I could wait things out to see if labor picked up even more on its own (which could take hours) or we could go ahead and try the Pitocin to see if we could speed things up. I didn't even hesitate...I wanted the Pitocin, and before I got the Pitocin, I wanted the epidural. I was exhausted, I was in tons of pain, and I wanted things to be over with. I handed my signed consent form to Cheryl and she immediately pushed IV fluids to get me ready. I was very excited that relief would surely be on the way soon.

The one thing that no one mentioned to me was that if cervical dilation occurs very quickly, sometimes an epidural doesn't have time to catch up and it offers only very slight, if any, relief. I suppose in hindsight I would have still gone ahead with the epidural had I known this, but part of me wishes I would have known because I would have had the proper expectations. I was fully expecting to feel tons of relief once the epidural was administered and I thought I would be able to maybe catch a quick nap while I finished dilating.

I was wrong. At 12:45pm, the anesthesiologist came in to administer the epidural which was an excrutiating process in and of itself. For one thing, my contractions were stronger than ever and we had to keep pausing so I could holler my way through another one before they could continue. And, because of my terrible back pain, I couldn't sit well at the angle that the anesthesiologist needed me to in order to thread the catheter into my spine, so she ended up having to do the procedure twice. Again, I didn't care so much about that because compared with the contractions, the epidural felt like a bee sting, and I was so sure that I would feel so much better afterwards, I would be willing to do anything. Once the epidural was finally in place, the Pitocin was started.

But for some reason, relief was no where in sight. The first couple of contractions I had after the epidual was placed were a little more manageable--I had to control my breathing through them and I felt a lot of pressure, but the pain wasn't as acute as it had been in the hour or so before. However, after two or three manageable contractions, the pain kicked back in with a vengance and soon I was yelling through my contractions again. Cheryl asked me if I was feeling pressure or pain and I screamed, "BOTH!!" I told her that I didn't think the epidural was doing anything anymore. I felt so angry and desperate and nothing was helping me with the pain anymore. Cheryl went to get Dr. Fab (who had brought her lunch to the hospital with her because she had a feeling things would progress quickly once the Pitocin was started) and another cervical check was done. Suddenly, I was at 4 cm. It was 1:45pm.

Things started to happen very quickly after that. The room started filling up with equipment. Nurses and Dr. Fab were rushing around, putting on scrubs, warming up the incubator, and checking on baby's heartrate. I continued to feel each and every contraction, except now that they were bolstered by the Pitocin, they were much, much closer together and much more intense than they were before. I did the best I could to follow Aaron's lead and breathe effectively through each contraction, but as they peaked, I abandoned any attempt to control myself and just let myself holler as loud as I could until they were over. Cheryl tried to get me to breathe and relax as well, but as any woman who has ever been through labor knows, any attempts at logic or gaining control once you hit transition are futile. All that I could do was hold on to Aaron as tightly as I could and stare at his face as intently as I could to try to keep myself tethered.

At 2:15pm, Dr. Fab checked me again because I was starting to feel A LOT of pressure on my bottom and I was at 6 cm. Then, less than 20 minutes later, I had dilated to almost 10 cm and I was getting ready to push.

Cheryl was absolutely right. My cervix had popped.

Birth Story Part Two: Waiting with Barack

We arrived at the hospital at 2:00pm and breezed through registration, thanks to the fact that I had preregistered weeks ago and the hospital was remarkably on the ball and actually had all of my paperwork ready when we arrived. After registration, an elderly volunteer came down to take me to my room in a wheelchair, which seemed silly to me. After all, I wasn't sick, I wasn't in labor, I wasn't even having strong contractions, but the lady was so nice and seemed to enjoy what she was doing, so I humored her.

Aaron and I arrived at our room and my nurse came to check me in. I was told to change into a hospital gown and then I was put on the external monitors so the baby's heartbeat could be checked. After a good 30 minutes of pushing and prodding at my belly, the nurse was FINALLY able to locate Tater's heartbeat. (This would be a common occurrence while I was in labor...we would pick up baby's heartbeat for a little while, but every time I would shift position, we'd lose his heartbeat again and it would take FOREVER for the nurses to be able to find him again. Super frustrating. The nurses and Dr. Fab couldn't figure out why the heartbeat was so hard to find. Turns out the baby was posterior for much of my labor and he was really, really high up in my pelvis until the very end of things.) An IV line was started, and I settled in to my bed to wait for the induction to begin.

At 4:00pm, Dr. Fab came in to give me my first dose of Cytotech, which felt like nothing much at all. She also checked my cervix and indicated that things hadn't changed much in that department, although she seemed pretty confident that this first dose would get things underway pretty quickly. Dr. Fab told me that she was going to head back to the office and then she was going grocery shopping and then home to make dinner, but that she would be back by 8:00pm to administer the second dose if it was necessary. I felt really, really thankful that my doctor was going to be doing this herself instead of leaving it all to the nurses. And then Dr. Fab left us to wait...

And wait, and wait, and wait...waiting for labor to start is like waiting for the grass to grow. You know it's happening and you know that eventually you will have something beautiful to look at very soon, but it can't happen fast enough.

We made a few phone calls and watched some TV while we waited, and we noticed that President Obama would be making a nationally televised speech to Congress that night, so we decided that we would watch that when the time came. I talked with my brother-in-law, who is as staunch a Conservative as I am a Liberal (but who I love anyway), on the phone and teased him that if the baby would be born during Barack's speech, we were going to name the baby Barack Hussein. However, I still wasn't feeling any strong contractions, so I told him that wasn't likely.

And I was right. Barack's speech started and by this time I had gotten tired of laying in bed (and frankly I was getting frustrated that I was not able to get up and move around), so I moved to the recliner in the room and the nurse propped me up with pillows and placed a warm rice sock behind my back. My back was killing me at this point, and each contraction that I was having--they were coming every few minutes or so, but they were pretty easy to handle--was felt in my back more than in my abdomen. Dr. Fab came back as promised at 8:00pm, decked out in scrubs and her glasses, to place the second dose of Cytotech. I was surprised and very pleased to learn that Dr. Fab was planning to stay at the hospital all night to monitor my progress. We chatted for a bit about Barack and his speech, and Aaron told me that when I was in the bathroom at one point, Dr. Fab commented that her kids often ask her why they are the only Democrats at their private school, and Dr. Fab told them, "It's because we care about people." Love it.

When Dr. Fab placed my second dose she also did a cervical check, and I was not happy at all to hear that I had not dilated at all because I had been feeling regular contractions. But, Dr. Fab was encouraged because although dilation wasn't occurring, my cervix was thinning and changing. She mentioned again that often it can take two to three doses of medication to get things moving so she assured me that when she came back to check me at midnight, there would be more change. She offered the idea that a third dose might not even be necessary. She reminded me that we were basically starting at zero, so I should be patient and try to get some rest if I could. She also rechecked my BP and was happy to see that it had dropped to normal levels. Aaron told her that was because this was the first time in my pregnancy that I have actually laid down for several hours, and Dr. Fab told him that she believed that.

I stayed in the recliner for a bit longer and tried to sleep for a bit, and then when shift change came and my night nurse came to introduce herself, I decided to move back to my bed. My new nurse did a check of my vital signs, and again my BP was well within normal limits. My contractions were still coming every two to five minutes or so but they were not increasing in intensity at all and they were tending to peter out a bit before receiving another dose of Cytotech. The nurse commented that she wouldn't be surprised at all if the doctor decided to send me home and let me wait a few more days, since my BP was fine, and I hated her for even suggesting that notion. I was there, I had made all the arrangements I needed to make for Grace, and I was not leaving without my new baby.

Midnight came, and Dr. Fab came in to administer dose number three of the Cytotech. When she checked me this time, she was able to get her fingertip through my cervix so there was progress there, and my cervix was continuing to thin out. She also mentioned that baby was still floating really high in my pelvis, and I asked her if this was why I was feeling so much pain in my back (it was pretty nasty at this point). Dr. Fab said that she didn't think so, but she brought up the possibility that baby was posterior and this could be causing my back pain. She reminded me again that I should try to rest as much as possible and to drink plenty of fluids because things could progress quickly now that the third dose had been placed. I agreed and bid her adieu until 4:00am.

Aaron was fast asleep on the pull-out bed at this point, and I was so glad that one of us was going to be rested up, because I certainly was not able to get any decent sleep. My contractions were just strong enough and frequent enough to wake me up if I did happen to doze off. And, the suggestion that the nurse made that I might go back home was frustrating enough to keep me stewing. How dare she mention such a thing!! Still, I did my best to rest as much as I could...I even put The Weather Channel on the TV in an attempt to lull myself to sleep, and it worked sometimes, but mostly I just laid in bed and watched the clock.

4:00am came and so did Dr. Fab. She asked me if my contractions were getting any stronger and I dejectedly told her no and I told her that I thought things were supposed to pick up after three doses. She suggested another cervical check to see how I was progressing, and she was pleased (more than I was) to discover that I had dilated to 1 cm and that I had a good amount of bloody show. She told me that although this didn't seem like much to me, it did indicate good progress. I asked her if she was going to administer yet another dose of Cytotech and she said that she would, but she was convinced that this would be my last dose.

And it was. My water broke at 7:05am, and then things got interesting.

Birth Story Part One: A Commonplace Miracle

Tuesday, February 24th:

Last week Tuesday I had the first of my biweekly scheduled NST's along with my weekly prenatal checkup with Dr. Fab. Before my appointment that day, I was busy at work, setting up calls with my client contacts to introduce them to my colleague that would be replacing me when I would be going on maternity leave. I didn't feel particularly bad or anything--I was just feeling really, really tired, but I chalked that up to the fact that we had made our pre-baby trip to Costco the night before and that took a lot out of me.

When Aaron and I arrived at the clinic, the nurse took my BP--161/100. I groaned, but I thought that maybe after sitting for a while for my NST, they could recheck my BP and it surely would come down a bit. So, we completed about half of the NST (Tater looked great), and then my nurse rechecked my BP--it was 160/104. Ugh. We decided to wait until the end of the NST to check it again, just in case, but again, it was elevated enough to be considered severe, so the nurse went to alert Dr. Fab. The nurse mentioned on the way out the door that she would probably be coming back to help me schedule an induction. Once we were alone, Aaron and I ventured some guesses as to when my induction date would be and we mentioned how glad we were that we had had a chance to get a lot of our pre-baby shopping done the night before. We felt a little more prepared now that we had finished that up.

I frowned at Dr. Fab as she came in the room because I could see that she was concerned, and she looked at both Aaron and I and said, "So, is today Baby Day?" It took me a minute to process what she had said, but when I recovered, all I could ask was, "Today?" I looked at Aaron and I thought for a moment that he might fall out of his seat. Dr. Fab told us that she was extremely concerned about my BP, especially since it didn't come down at all after I had been resting for more than thirty minutes. She told us that since I was 36w2d and had been consistently measuring two weeks big, baby would be considered preterm but that the risks of keeping him inside much longer far outweighed the benefits. She said Tater might have to spend an extra day or two in the nursery but that he would most likely be perfectly fine.

At this point, Aaron spoke up. I could tell that he was a bit frustrated because Dr. Fab and I were throwing around terms and acronyms that he wasn't familiar with (this was his first time going through this, after all), and he said, "Wait a minute. You're speaking in code. Are we having the baby today?" Dr. Fab told him yes, that I would be induced that day. She explained that if my BP stayed at the level it was at or went even higher, several bad things could happen. I could seize. I could have a stroke. My placenta could abrupt and we would lose the baby. I watched Aaron's face change as this all sunk in, and he quickly agreed that we needed to get the show on the road so that none of that would happen.

My head was buzzing, processing all of this as Dr. Fab checked my cervix to get a baseline and figure out the best method of induction. I was very, very slightly dilated (Dr. Fab called it "not even a fingertip"), but I was about 50% effaced, so that was something. Since I had not dilated much at all, Dr. Fab said Pitocin was out because she only likes to use that if the patient is dilated a few centimeters. So the method of induction would be a series of Cytotech pills that she would place in my cervix every four hours to force dilation. Dr. Fab mentioned that it might take a couple of doses to get things moving, but she assured me that women rarely need more than three doses to achieve to an active labor pattern.

Dr. Fab asked us when we could be at the hospital, and I asked her if we would be able to head home to pack our bag before heading over there (we were planning to pack our bag that very night). She said yes, so I told her we would arrive at the hospital around 2:00pm (it was noonish at this point). She left the room to make the calls to arrange everything and alert the hospital that we would be on our way, and then she sent me down to the lab to have the pre-eclampsia labs repeated, just in case. (If the gestational hypertension had morphed into pre-eclampsia, I would need to be on IV mag for labor and delivery, so she wanted to find this out before we arrived at the hospital.)

I sent Aaron on his way before I headed to the lab, because he wanted to stop at work and alert his boss about what was happening, and then I sat and waited for my blood to be drawn. An eternity passed before I was finally called back, and when they finally finished up, I rushed out to my car and started making phone calls. My first thought was of Gracie...she was at school and would need to be picked up and taken care of for the next few days. I called my dad, who told me that he had already spoken with Aaron and was aware of what was happening, and that he would be more than happy to come down to Milwaukee to pick Grace up from school. He told me that he and my mom would spend the night at our house with Gracie and that I shouldn't worry about anything. He asked me how I was feeling and I said, "Terrified," (because I really, really was) and then I cried for a while. My dad offered me some much-needed words of encouragement, and then I made a couple more calls on my way home, mostly to tie up some loose ends at work. Finally I called Grace's school to talk to her to let her know what was going to be happening, and to let her teacher know that my parents would be handling school pickups and dropoffs for the next few days.

Aaron hadn't arrived at home yet when I got there, so I took the opportunity to update my blog and send a couple of quick emails, and then I started packing. I planned to be at the hospital two or three nights (depending on how the induction went), so I just packed a few shirts and some comfy pants. When Aaron got home, he finished up the packing while I unpacked our new baby car seat so that we could get that in the car. After a whirlwind of checking lists and packing and quick cleaning, Aaron and I decided that we would leave home a few minutes early so that we could stop and pick up something small to eat on the way. After all, I wasn't sure when I would be able to eat again since I was famished and I didn't think I'd be allowed to eat once I arrived at the hospital and the induction got underway.

On the way to the hospital, I kept looking at what was happening in the world around me. People were going about their normal daily routines, commuting to and from work, shopping, going to school, and no one knew what was taking place inside our little blue car. Everything outside seemed so normal, so ordinary, but my entire world was about to change. I mentioned this to Aaron. He thought for a moment and said, "Yes. It's a commonplace miracle."

Home

Well, we got to bring Harrison home today, which is a day earlier than our pediatrician had predicted. Harry took to feeding yesterday and we were able to pull his NG tube last night, so he has been eating now for almost 48 hours without any supplementation via the tube. Yay!! We are still not breastfeeding, as little Harry is tongue-tied and isn't able to form a good seal at the breast, but I have been pumping every three hours and Aaron has been feeding him with a bottle, so I suppose that is the next best thing.

Harrison is on a bili-bed due to having jaundice, but hopefully we will be able to get rid of that in the next few days, especially since he has been eating and pooping so well. It sucks having him on that bed all day and not being able to hold him as much as I would like to, but then again, I'm just glad to have him home.

I'm feeling a little dazed...last week at this time we were heading home from our baby shower at my parents' house, completely unaware of what would be coming, and today I am here at home with my new baby and Aaron and Gracie, and so, so much has happened in the past several days. I'll start getting the story down here as we get acclimated to life at home with a newborn and a prekindergartner.

I also turned 31 today. Having my family all at home together tonight is the best birthday gift I could have ever asked for.

New Baby!!

Harrison Glen, born Wednesday 2/25/09 at 2:56pm. Weight is 6lbs 4oz, length is 19 inches.

And yeah, ya know how they say second labors are soooo much easier than the first? Not so much with this one. Brutal. Will post birth story and pics when I've had a chance to recover.

Baby Day

I am being induced today. Holy shit.

BP was 161/100 and Dr. Fab said that since I am a few days shy of 37 weeks, the risks of keeping Tater inside outweigh the benefits. We're packing now and heading to the hospital in a few minutes.

We'll keep you posted. Send us all good thoughts please.

An Observation

Is it just me, or does the new Illinois governor look a lot like George Washington?

At least it doesn't look like he has wooden teeth.

Don't mind me...just trying to occupy my mind while I have these weird Braxton Hicks contractions every 10 minutes or so.

And Speaking of Pregnancy...

...here is the latest quote from the Palin family, this time from Bristol, the new mommy:

""I'd love to [be] an advocate to prevent teen pregnancy because it's not, like, a situation that you would want to strive for, I guess," Bristol said.

Speaks for itself. Geez.

Lady In Waiting

I know I have been relatively quiet as of late, and that's just because not much is happening right now...other than waiting. I'm 35 weeks and 2 days today, so I am settling into that end-of-pregnancy lethargy and zombie-ness. I make my way through my days as best I can, then at night, when the work is done and Grace is in bed, I flop down on the couch and inevitably fall asleep just so Aaron can wake me up so I can drag myself to bed. I am asleep before my head hits the pillow and then I am woken up several times in the middle of the night, usually by the stray charley horse in my legs or by all of the fluid that needs to be dealt with in my compressed bladder. I thank God everyday that my husband is nesting, because I certainly don't have the energy for all that noise. Thanks to him, the house is cleaner and more organized than it has been since I moved in, and it is ready for the baby.

The birthing class is over, the crib is assembled, the Costco membership has been purchased, the chest freezer is installed and ready for breastmilk (thanks for the idea, LWWB), the baby clothes are washed, and Gracie's sibling class is coming up on Saturday. Really and truly, all that's left is the waiting.

I had my first of two weekly prenatal appointments today, and the BP is back up, but that's no surprise. Dr. Fab keeps saying, "37 weeks would be perfect," but we have yet to schedule an induction, mostly because she always wants to wait to see what the next appointment brings. All of my NST's have been perfect--they always show lots of little happy accelerations from Tater and the stray contractions, which are becoming a tad more frequent and noticeably more like period cramps than just plain belly hardening. Today I had the Group B strep test done and when Dr. Fab checked me, she indicated that baby has definitely dropped some in my pelvis and that I'm about 40% effaced, but no dilation as of yet. She sounded confident in telling us that she didn't think labor would start this week or this weekend.

I guess there's some more waiting in store...

Skipping V-Day

Aaron and I decided to skip Valentine's Day this year. A few months back, we scheduled ourselves to attend an all-day birthing class on V-Day so it's not like we would have tons of time for a whirlwind of romantic activities that day anyway, but the whole idea of Valentine's Day is making me a little nauseous this year. And it's not just the hormones...

First off, these jewelry stores have some real balls advertising their diamond V-Day jewelry "sales" with the economy being the way it is. My daughter watches maybe an hour of TV every day, and she knows that stupid "he went to Jared" tag line by heart because of their ubiquitous commercials. They drive me crazy. Does the average American family have an extra $700 to spend on a diamond tennis bracelet for Mommy? If the average family is anything like ours, the answer is no. And if you do have some extra cash hanging around, my thought is that you'd be better off throwing it at your mortgage or paying down your other debt instead of buying a piece of jewelry that's going to sit on a dresser 90% of the time anyway. I just don't understand the extravagance that is still being encouraged in these troubled times. Know what I'm sayin'?

And I'm tired of the notion that one specific day needs to be designated in order to express your undying love and devotion to your partner/spouse/significant other. It's like the fiancee preparing for her wedding day instead of preparing herself for her marriage. Yes, the day itself is nice, but what about the rest of your relationship? Why should we reserve the nice date nights and the chocolates and the "I love you's" for Valentine's Day? Aren't those things even MORE appreciated when they come for no reason at all, when it's not all forced and syrupy? Frankly, I'd rather have my husband bring me a bouquet of flowers he picked himself in the middle of summer instead of feeling forced to buy me a dozen overpriced roses on V-Day.

So, this year I proposed a skip on the whole V-Day noise--no flowers, no gifts, no fancy schmancy dinner out-- and Aaron seemed just fine with that. After all, we'll be spending the day preparing for the arrival of our son, and I really can't think of anything more romantic than that.

The Calm

Today is February 10th, and here is a shot of my backyard...here in Milwaukee, WI, which is generally a frozen wasteland during this time of year:

That one little patch of snow that's remaining is all like, "You're not taking me down! I'm staying here!! I don't care that it's almost 60 degrees!" And wow, our lawn will need some work come Spring.

Yes, I said 60 degrees. In Milwaukee, in February. It's unbelievable. And it's not going to last. Today is our one day of warm weather before temperatures plunge back into the 30's and you can be sure the snow and related unpleasantness won't be far behind. That Mother Nature is one mean tease.

This feels like the calm before the storm. Today, all is peaceful and cheery...the birds are singing, the sun is shining, the windows are open and a nice warm(ish) breeze is floating around the house. What is lurking around the corner? Are we about to be walloped with a foot of snow and temps below zero?

Sorta feels like that in my life right now. I had a doctor's appointment today, and my doctor called me "boringly normal". My BP was good (for once). My weight is good. Baby looked great during the NST. And although Dr. Fab mentioned she'd like to see me deliver around 37 or 38 weeks, she did bring up the possibility of going into labor naturally (provided it's before 40 weeks). Is this the calm before the storm? Is this our chance to breathe and relax and step back a little before our own little storm comes blowing in?

I Talk About Grace and Aaron A LOT...Also, I Overuse the Words "Around" and "Bed"

So I totally stole this off another blog, but there is this website out there called Wordle and if you type your blog's URL into the website, it spits out a little word picture of what your blog is all about. I went for it, and here is what it came up with:

I find it interesting that "bed" is the biggest word on here. Hmmm...

If Sully Ain't Piloting, I Ain't Flying

Yeah, I know this story is weeks old, but today I was surfing around on my news sites and came across this link on cnn.com:

http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/02/05/1549.voice.recorder.tape/index.html

It is the audio of what happened in the last three minutes or so of that US Airways flight that ended up in the Hudson River a few weeks back. I listened to the audio three times and it still amazes me how CALM everyone on the recording sounds, including and especially the pilot, Captain Sullenberger. The last thing he says on the recording is "We're gonna be in the Hudson," and he says it like he's saying, "I'm gonna be at the store. We need milk and eggs." There is no indication of fear or anxiety in his voice, and that just blows my mind. Here's how the recording would sound if I, the Queen of the Fear of Flying, happened to be piloting the plane:

"OH MY GOD, WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!!!!!!!!!! I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!!!!!!!!!! I THINK I JUST POOPED!!!!!!!!! OH, THERE'S THE HUDSON RIVER...OH MY GOD, WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!!!!!!!!!"

If THAT recording showed up on cnn.com, I would be totally embarrased. So let's all be glad I'm not a pilot. And even if I was piloting the plane and the outcome was the same and everyone survived, I'm pretty sure President Obama wouldn't call me and invite me to his inauguration. I'm pretty sure he would call me and tell me to watch some footage of him in the debates so I could learn about grace under pressure. And then he would probably sign some sort of proclamation stating that I could never fly a plane again, and I think that would be ok with me. I definitely wouldn't have gotten invited to hang out on the sidelines at the Super Bowl.

Moral of this story: If Sully ain't piloting the plane, I ain't flying. Also, birds aren't taking me out, so good luck getting me back on a plane anytime soon.

P.S. Does typing "President Obama" give anyone else happy shivers, or is it just me??

Bonnaroo 2009 Lineup is Out...

...and OMG. This is the best lineup that I think I have ever seen for Bonnaroo. You can check it out at Bonnaroo's site, but here are the highlights (in my opinion):

Phish
The Decemberists
Ben Harper
Beastie Boys
Nine Inch Nails
Rodrigo y Gabriela
Of Montreal
MGMT

And oh yeah...the headliner for the weekend? Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. I don't even care about them. I mean, c'mon!! THE DECEMBERISTS?!?!? NIN?!?! BEN HARPER!?!? The only notable acts missing from this year's lineup are Ben Folds and Death Cab for Cutie, but they were both there last year and we got to see them then, so I suppose it's all good.

Seeing the lineup today made me clutch my chest and gasp for air. Why? Because Aaron and I had agreed NOT to go to Bonnaroo this year. Tater will only be a couple of months old when the 'Roo rolls around, and I put my foot down and said that I won't leave him for a long weekend when he is that little, especially since I plan to nurse him. Aaron put his foot down and said no, we can't take him with us because Tennessee in June is too hot (even though I offered up the idea of renting an RV with AIR CONDITIONING). I could bend and tell Aaron to just go and have a good time but then again, um, no. I know myself and I know I would be pissed off the whole time he would be gone. Clearly, we are out of options. Ugh.

Whaddya think the chances are that all of these fabulous bands are making the festival circuit this year and will also be playing Lollapalooza, which is coming up in Ausgust in Chicago? Really, Lollapalooza would be much more feasible for us this year than Bonnaroo. C'mon, throw me a bone, here...

So, We Didn't INTEND to Spend This Much at Ikea, But...

What is it about Ikea that makes the (relatively) frugal abandon all frugality and spend like the credit card is expiring, like, tomorrow? Is it the Swedish meatballs? Is it the fun Swedish product names? Is it the awe-inspiring shopping cart escalators??

We headed down to Ikea on Saturday for our annual "Aaron just got his bonus, yippee, let's go to Ikea!!" shopping trip, and we had the best intentions. Really, we did---we had a list! And a plan!! We had planned to just get the essentials--some storage boxes that would fit in our living room coffee table, a table large enough to accommodate our mail and a small shredder (since handling and organizing mail seems to be an issue in our household), and a small toy box for the toys that migrate from Grace's room to the living room (new rule--all toys that are kept in living room must fit in toy box or they must go back to bedroom). Oh, and we did end up buying all of those things. We also bought this:

Yep, we bought Grace a new bed. And a shell-shaped light. And a frilly, castle-like curtain thing for above her bed.

We hadn't even intended on visiting the children's section at Ikea this weekend, but we were drawn in somehow. It all started when we were attempting to scuttle Grace AWAY from the children's section but the sounds of kids playing on the little tables and chairs and crawling around in the little tents soon drew Grace in, and before we knew it, Aaron and I were both eyeing the furniture and the bedding and considering how this stuff might look in our house. And then I saw this pretty little bed and thought, "Really, how practical IS it that Grace has a queen-sized bed? She's four! Surely a twin bed would be a much better option for her! Perhaps her recent sleep issues are all because she's in such a BIG bed all by herself and she feels lost in it! This could be the answer to our prayers! And it looks like a princess bed! I could sell this to her as a princess bed, and surely she will want to spend all night in it!!" And then I showed the bed to Aaron, and he was all like, "Huh, think of the space we would save with having a smaller bed in her room! We would ACTUALLY have room for all of her toys here in her room, and we wouldn't have to keep some in the living room! You are truly wise, wife of mine!!"

We showed the bed to Grace who immediately saw the princess-ness of it, and oh! What about the pretty castle-like curtain for around the bed?!? Look at those shell lights! They most definitely fit with the Little Mermaid motif that we already have going in her room! And, Grace assured us that she would absolutely, positively spend the entire night sleeping in her bedroom if she could have this bed. Problem solved!!

And so, we bought the bed and Aaron spent yesterday afternoon putting the bed together and then Grace and I got it all prettified with her new princess sheets and her other princess paraphenalia. Then each of us rolled around on the new bed for a while, marveling at how comfortable and cute it is!! Grace even went to bed so easily last night that I was sure that all of our sleep problems were behind us. This whole new bed idea was a stroke of genius!!

I'm sure those of you who are parents and who are clearly smarter than me can tell me what happened next...she was awake less than two hours after she fell asleep, wanting to come and sleep in our room. And instead of having a spacious queen-sized bed to soothe her in, I had to wedge my way into this twin-sized bed with her and try to find a comfortable position in which I could rub her back and stroke her hair and wait for her to fall back asleep. Two hours LATER, she was back in her little bed that we have stationed on our bedroom floor. Sigh.

At least we DO have more space in her room for her stuff, and the new toy box and mail table look pretty darn good in our living room. Anyone need a queen-sized bed?

NST and The "I" Word

Today as I was driving home from my weekly doctor appointment, I passed Miller Park and noticed that the marquee out front was displaying a countdown clock, counting down the days until the Brew Crew's pitchers and catchers report for training camp. (Is it called training camp for baseball?? I'm a football girl.) I couldn't help but smile to myself...when baseball season ended last year, I often thought to myself that come NEXT baseball season, we would have a new baby in the house. And now the pitchers and catchers are reporting for training in fourteen days. Sheesh.

Anyway, today was my first of many scheduled fetal non-stress tests and happily, Tater looks great. His heartbeat galloped along at around 140 bpm and there were plenty of little accelerations as he squirmed around. He is growing nicely, measuring in at around 34 weeks (still about two weeks big, but Dr. Fab is cool with that). He is definitely head down and his little back side is pointing upwards, so if he stays put, he's in the perfect position for delivery. Also, Dr. Fab did a cervical check today because I have been having some terrible back and pelvic pain lately, and fortunately, things are still thick and closed and tilted backwards, and Tater hasn't engaged yet. Tater gets an A+ for today.

I, however, seem to have boarded the blood pressure roller coaster and I just can't seem to get off. After having pretty darn good readings for a couple of weeks, my BP is inching back up again...not to levels that are terribly dangerous, but just enough for Dr. Fab to remind me that she doesn't want to have to lecture me about taking it easy. And, for the first time, today Dr. Fab brought up The "I" Word--induction. She wants to monitor things for a couple more weeks, but she thinks that we (she, Aaron, and I) will need to decide in the upcoming weeks if enough is enough and whether or not I should be induced at 37 or 38 weeks. That's less than six weeks away. And suddenly I am in a panic about my house and cribs and high chairs and layettes and pediatricians, etc. And let's not even bring up the circumcision question. Really. I'm done talking about it.

I had really hoped to avoid induction this time around, and maybe I still will if by some miracle my BP drops and stays there or if Tater decides to skedaddle early, but I guess the whole idea is not so bad. My induction with Grace went really well--I didn't need any Pitocin or anything--and hopefully (please, God) that will be the case this time around, too. Also, one plus of induction is that I have a better chance of having Dr. Fab around for at least part of labor and delivery, assuming she starts the induction. AND, since Tater is measuring a couple of weeks big anyway, he's not gonna be a small baby, so he might be the size of a full term baby at 37 weeks. Just tryin' to see the upside...

Really, shaving a couple of weeks off of this whole pregnancy thing wouldn't be bad at all, provided Tater is ready. I am way, way uncomfortable and I'm sure Aaron is tired of listening to me grunt and whine and sigh every time I walk, roll over in bed, get up off the couch, get out of a chair...well, basically when I move any part of my body at all.

The Big "C"

One of my favorite blogs, finslippy, posted a link yesterday to a Momversation regarding The Big C--circumcision. I thought this was pretty fortuitous, as Aaron and I are wrangling with the circumcision question right now...to cut or not to cut? The post on finslippy as well as the Momversation were both very interesting and thought-provoking and soon both Aaron and I were reading and re-reading the post and all of the comments that the post generated. Seems as though we are not the only parents in the world who are struggling with this.

Here's the thing...before I knew our baby was going to be a boy, I never gave this any thought. I have always thought that if I had a son, I would have him circumcised. I never really knew why...I just knew that this is what was done and as I said, I never gave it much thought. It wasn't until we found out that we are having a boy and Aaron expressed his reservations about circumcision to me that I actually sat down and asked myself, "Why do I think we should do this?" Turns out I didn't have any reason other than "This is what is done," and I decided to do some research on the topic.

Unfortunately the internet is fraught with propaganda, both for and against circumcision. I had no idea people felt so strongly about this, on both sides of the coin. In my research, I found myself getting more and more frustrated with the rhetoric and finger pointing and holier-than-thou-ness of it all and decided to check out what the experts have to say. The American Academy of Pediatrics doesn't really take a stance on the topic, stating that,

"Existing scientific evidence demonstrates potential medical benefits of newborn male circumcision; however, these data are not sufficient to recommend routine neonatal circumcision. In circumstances in which there are potential benefits and risks, yet the procedure is not essential to the child's current well-being, parents should determine what is in the best interest of the child."

Wow...that's maddingly ambiguous but at the same time tells me there isn't a compelling medical reason to circumcise our son. Dr. Sears' website underscores this fact and basically tells parents that they should use no reason other than religion or personal preference in making the decision on whether or not to circumcise their sons--the medical benefits alone aren't enough to justify the decision. Well, neither Aaron or I hold any religious beliefs that would prompt us to circumcise our son, and neither of us believes so strongly in the idea of circumcision that we feel absolutely compelled to have it done.

Then again, there is some evidence out there that suggests that circumcising baby boys can have medical benefits. Many experts suggest circumcising boys lowers the rate of UTI's. Also, it can help prevent the boy from spreading HPV or other STD's when he becomes sexually active. Some also say that circumcision lowers the chance of a male developing penile cancer later in life. These are all positives to be sure!! However, I haven't been able to find anything that has said that circumcision ABSOLUTELY does these things. One would think that teaching their son proper hygiene and how to make responsible sexual decisions would also help prevent these things.

Clearly, I am torn. This decision is weighing heavily on me and I am losing sleep over it. To me, we have three options:

Circumcise...In my mind, this is the easy choice, because it is what a majority of parents in this country decide to do with their son, and I know that if we make this decision, our son will be in the norm (although this might not be quite so true nowadays, as circumcision rates are on the decline). The procedure is very safe, and if we are going to do this, we should do it while we are still in the hospital to save our son from a more serious procedure later in life. And, let's face it, things would be easier to clean down there, both for us and for Tater and the procedure COULD prevent all the icky things listed above.

Don't circumcise...The tougher choice of the two, because it goes against the norm in our society. However, I am going to take pains (literally) to ensure my son has a violence-free and medication-free delivery, so why would I subject him to this painful procedure and recovery less than 48 hours after his birth? Also, should we do something just because it is what a majority of people do? Seems like faulty logic to me...it's the whole "If all your friends were jumping off a bridge, would you?" thing. And, I know myself. I had a hard enough time sending Grace to the nursery for a heel stick after delivering her. How will I feel if and when I turn my son over to the nurses to have this procedure done? Will I feel immense guilt and regret my decision? And AND, should this be our decision or our son's decision? I know men who wish the choice had been left up to them.

Leave this up to Aaron...In reading finslippy's post and the comments on the post last night, I was surprised to see the number of women who left this decision up to their husbands. But it makes some sense to me. After all, I have no idea what it's like to have a penis. I didn't have surgery on my genitals hours after birth, and so I don't have any idea what that would be like. Part of me is like, "This is my son too, dammit, and have as much say as my husband does," but then again, I trust Aaron and I know that he would take his research as well as his own personal experience into account. I trust and know that he would make the right decision for our son.

We have less than eight weeks to make this decision, and while that might seem like a lot to some, I am a planner and I need to know what we are going to do about this. I foresee many more sleepless nights ahead, and it's not just going to be because of leg cramps and having to pee every hour.

Weekend Wrapup

What a weekend! As I mentioned in my previous post, we had planned to take a much-needed mini vacation this weekend, and we definitely did that but we also managed to cram some other fun and cool stuff into the weekend. As the weekend was winding down last night and as I was putting Grace to bed, I found myself wishing there was some way I could somehow trick time and squeeze in another day of R&R with the fam...but alas, it's Monday and we're back at it.

The bulk of our weekend was spent at Country Springs Water Park and Hotel, and if anyone is looking for a fun weekend away without spending too much dough, this is the place. Last year we took our winter mini vacation in Wisconsin Dells at Kalahari Water Park Resort, and while Kalahari was awesome and probably twice the size of Country Springs, I'd recommend Country Springs over Kalahari for a couple of reasons. First, Country Springs is MUCH more reasonably priced than some of the water park resorts in the Dells. I did some research, and if we had gone to the Dells this weekend, we would have spent at least twice what we ended up spending at Country Springs, both in gas and in actual room charges and other fees (for instance, Country Springs has a free continental breakfast each morning--many other water park resorts don't offer that).

Also, I feel like Country Springs was more geared toward Grace's age group than some of the bigger resorts. Sure, Kalahari and other larger resorts have tons of huge water slides and other attractions like wave pools and surfing simulators that are fun for adults, but the water park at Country Springs had smaller slides and more kid-friendly stuff to offer (as well as a lazy river and a couple larger slides). So, Grace was comfortable trying just about everything at least once and that made me feel good because we utilized the entire park instead of just part of it. And, even though Aaron didn't get to try surfing this year, I'm pretty sure he had a good time accompanying Grace (and my mom) on some of the bigger slides at the park.

The other thing that impressed me about Country Springs was the staff. The water park itself was stocked with lifeguards who were pretty darn vigilant about making sure everyone stayed safe. I liked the fact that they actually enforced the "no kids in the hot tub without parents" rule so that when I took a minute to dangle my legs in the hot tub, I wasn't getting splashed by a bunch of unsupervised kids. Also, when Grace happened to fall asleep in one of the lounge chairs, one of the lifeguards came up to me to make sure she was feeling ok (yep, just tuckered out). I don't remember that type of surveillance at Kalahari when we were there last year, and it was nice to see.

My parents were able to spend the weekend at Country Springs with us as well and that was great! Grace had a blast going on water slides and the lazy river with my mom (and honestly, it was pretty darn entertaining for me to watch as well), and she got some good snuggle time in with Grandpa as well. Even though we did have a couple of hairy stretches because Grace was still a little tired from her bout of strep throat, our mini vacation was great fun and I wish it could have been just a bit longer.

A couple of other cool things happened after we left Country Springs this weekend. The first thing is that Grace and I (finally) joined a church here in Milwaukee. I have been searching for the "perfect" church for Grace and I to attend ever since I moved down here and I finally found that place a couple of weeks ago. I was doing a search on ELCA Lutheran churches here in the city and came across one that sounded like it might be a good fit for us. I attended services there a couple of weeks ago and fell in love with the church immediately. It is a smaller, liberal congregation but the thing that struck me right away was the number of young people and young families in attendance. Children are not only welcomed at this church, but they are included in the service and they are truly treasured by the congregation and the staff. Also, I found the congregation as a whole and the pastors to be extremely welcoming and accepting. I was a little leery to talk to the pastors about joining because I was sure they would wonder why Grace and I would be joining and Aaron wouldn't be, but I was pleasantly surprised when they didn't seem to even think twice about the fact that my husband and I don't hold identical beliefs about everything. They didn't make me feel as though my family is "broken" because Aaron and I weren't going to be joining together and for that I am extremely thankful--I know many churches would not be quite so open and understanding.

So, Grace and I joined the congregation yesterday and it feels really, really good to have a spiritual home. And as if I needed any more affirmation that I had made the right choice, during yesterday's sermon, the pastor jokingly reminded the congregation that Barack Obama is not Jesus Christ...his words were, "...I've seen the look in some of your eyes (when talking about Barack)..." and I thought to myself, "Yep, these are my homeys." And then, the pastor concluded his sermon with moving, tearful words about how he felt about the closing of Guantanamo Bay and how it is SO good to finally see us do the right thing. Amen.

One big other thing from this weekend...we made our first major baby-related purchase. We bought an infant car seat yesterday. Both Aaron and I were feeling some hesitation about the purchase, but together we mustered up the courage to let ourselves believe that this baby is coming and that he is going to be fine, and we took that leap. And just to kick some dust in fear's face, we picked up a sleeper for the baby, too.

T Minus Two Months

My due date is two months from today--March 22nd. If my little occupant decides to hang out till then, I could very well be in the throes of labor in exactly two months, since I won't be allowed to go past my due date. *shudder* Can I just order up the pain medication cocktail now?

Had my weekly appointment with Dr. Fab today, and happily, the BP seems to be holding steady for now. Tater is still measuring big but he's not growing at quite the clip he was a few weeks ago, when he was measuring almost four weeks big. Baby's heart rate was excellent today, and he even kicked hard enough to shake Dr. Fab's hand as she held the doppler on my belly. Also, I lost three pounds this week, which was a bit of a concern to Dr. Fab until I explained to her that I have been busy taking care of a four-year-old with strep throat all week and I haven't slept or eaten well in that time. Then, she just gave me the same kind of look my mother would give me if I had just told her that same thing and said, "You look tired. Take it easy."

Fortunately, that is exactly what I have planned. Grace has off of school tomorrow for the end of the semester, so we thought this would be a good opportunity for the three of us to take a little mini-vacation before Tater makes his debut. Aaron and I both have off work tomorrow and we are taking Grace to Country Springs, which is a hotel/water park that is located about 20 miles west of our house, for the weekend. (Last week Dr. Fab gave me the green light to go as long as I promised her that I wouldn't go on any water slides and that I would keep my feet up and relax all weekend.) We're all super excited to get away for the weekend, even though we're not going far away. It'll be nice to get out of the house for a couple of days and get away from the household chores that are staring me in the face. It'll also be nice to have a long weekend away with just Gracie, as I know the opportunity to do that is quickly slipping away.

Anyhoo, next week we start the weekly fetal non-stress tests just to make sure all is still well in Tater's uterine home and that he is still thriving despite the gestational hypertension and the low levels of PAPP-A (I'll go to two tests weekly at 34 weeks). In the meantime, I'll be relaxing at the pool and pondering the circumcision question--to cut, or not to cut??

#44

Yeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaaaw!!!! If I could without worrying about launching myself into preterm labor, I would be jumping up and down in jubilance. Thanks so much for your service, W, but good riddance. Today is a new day.

And This is How It's Been For the Past Three Days

My poor little Gracie-poo, making the best of her situation, curled up under her blankies and smiling even though she told me today that she is "SOOO sick!!!"

It's probably a good thing that MPS is closed today for MLK Jr. Day, because there is no way this little girl would have been able to go to school today. And, I am no longer feeling like our trip to the Urgent Care clinic on Saturday was a waste of time, because even though the quick strep test they did at the clinic came back negative on Saturday, strep grew over the weekend and so Gracie has strep throat. I wouldn't have known that had I not taken her in and she would have stayed sick, so it was worth it after all. Grace had her first dose of Zithromax earlier today (she's allergic to almost every other antibiotic out there) so I am *hoping* that another full day of R&R and some TLC along with the medicine will help her improve enough to head back to school tomorrow.

In the meantime, I am washing all of our bedding in hot water and scrubbing all sorts of surfaces in my home and praying fervently that Aaron and/or I don't end up with this...

The Dancing Queen Becomes My Little Sickie

Less than twenty-four hours after watching Gracie dance wildly around the living room to her favorite ABBA songs, I am looking at a very sick little girl. Poor Grace is laying prone on our living room couch, half-heartedly watching the end of Pee Wee's Big Adventure, with her little mouth gaping open because she can't breathe through her nose, tears streaming down her face occasionally because she "is never gonna feel better!!" and her cheeks a rosy red color as a result of her fever which has been hovering between 102 and 104 all day long.

I can't even remember the last time Grace was sick. I know around this time last year, we had to take her in to Urgent Care on a Sunday afternoon because she was complaining of an earache (turns out she had a raging ear infection) but other than that, Grace is generally very healthy. I had a rough road with her from about the time she was six months old until she turned two--she had cold after cold and the colds always lead to ear infections and she had rotavirus two springs in a row. But then suddenly around age two, she stopped getting sick so often--in fact, she's only been sick a handful of times since then. She managed to build up a pretty tough immune system and thanks to that, she hasn't suffered from a lot of the illnesses her classmates at school have had to deal with because she was exposed to many of them in day care already.

And so, I'm feeling that unmistakable sense of panic that a parent feels when her child is sick and I had forgotten how terrible that feeling is. As soon as we got up this morning, I felt the compelling need to get Grace into the doctor ASAP, and when he told us that Grace doesn't have strep or any other infection and then dismissed us, I wanted to wrap myself around his leg as he walked out the door and beg him to DO SOMETHING TO HELP HER FEEL BETTER!!

Turns out, all she really wants is her mama. When we got home from the doctor, she just wanted to lay down next to me (or on top of me) and she pleaded with me to stay next to her all day. And that's just fine, because there's no way I'd let my little sickie out of my sight today anyway.

Gracie Mia, The Dancing Queen

Due to the subzero temperatures and even colder wind chills that we have been subjected to here in Milwaukee over the past 48 hours or so, all of the schools in the area have been cancelled for the past two days. Thus, while I am glad that Grace doesn't have to venture outside in this weather and risk frostbite, I have been less-than-thrilled about the whole working and parenting simultaneously thing. My job requires me to be on the computer or on the phone constantly, and although Grace generally does a pretty good job of entertaining herself with coloring projects or with reading books or putting together puzzles, her patience wears thin after a while and starts demanding that I "stop working THIS MINUTE!" and devote my undivided attention to her. And then the guilt kicks in...guilt because I have always told myself that I wouldn't be one of those parents who forces her child to compete with the computer for her attention.

This afternoon, Grace's patience was wearing ever thinner, and as I was trying to run some reporting that I HAD to get done for work and find something fun for Grace to do at the same time, I reached for a last resort: the ABBA Gold CD. A couple of weekends ago, my parents came to our house for a visit and my mom brought her new fav movie, Mamma Mia, with her. Grace stayed up late watching the movie with us (I know, it's PG-13, tsk-tsk, whatever...but seriously, it's a cute movie and I managed to direct Grace's attention away during the one "PG-13ish" part of the movie) and she fell in love with all of the music and dancing that's in the movie and was really sad when Grandma took the movie home with her the next day. Last weekend when Grace spent a day with my parents, they bought her the ABBA Gold CD, which contains a majority of the songs from Mamma Mia, and the CD has been Grace's most treasured possession ever since and she listens to it whenever she gets the chance. She even chooses to listen to ABBA before listening to Laurie Berkner or her new Medeski, Martin, and Wood kid's CD.

So, today, in the midst of my desperation to get my work done but NOT plunk my kid down in front of the TV for hours on end in order to accomplish it, I reached out to ABBA and they delivered. As soon as I put the CD in, Grace was a dancing queen, strutting her stuff around the living room and lip-synching as best as she could to all of the songs. And, I was able to get a bunch of work done uninterrupted. Man, those Swedes are awesome.