TENder Baby Moments

This baby has brought so much tenderness into our lives in the short nine weeks he has been here.  It is not like we were living some hardcore, non-tender life before, but our hearts are certainly a little softer these days.  Here is why:

The other day while watching TV, I looked over at my husband.  He had the baby stretched out on his chest.  Instead of watching the show, my husband was leaned forward, breathing in his baby boy.

My sister has a little one who is set to arrive in February.  Two weeks ago, when she held my son, her baby started moving and reacting to his cousin!

Whenever we go to visit my parents, my dad always comes to the car before we even get it in park, gets the car seat, and starts talking to little man.

Lately, I have discovered that sometimes my baby cries out of fear.  The other day, I put him in the tub while the water was still running and he started to cry this really heart breaking cry.  I figured out what was scaring him and turned off the water.  He looked at me like I was a hero.

He has figured out how to hold on.  How can I ever let him sleep in his crib, when he is hanging on to hair/shirt while he is sleeping?

I think he likes music.  I have played the guitar for him and he smiles the whole time.  A few nights ago my husband was playing a new song he learned on guitar, while baby and I swayed to the music=happy family.  The song?  See below.

Watching him learn things is incredible.  Just yesterday he found his thumb.  He always tries to get his hands in his mouth, but suddenly, he was getting the thumb separate from the rest of the fingers and into his mouth on the first or second try.  Regardless of the fact that I keep pulling said thumb out of his mouth, I am still amazed that he was able to teach himself to do that.

Our dog, who looks like a terrifying creature-with his lab, pit, catahoula bloodline, always comes up to the baby when he is really crying.  He wants to lick him and try to fix it.

The baby has learned to talk.  He coos a lot in the morning (telling me his dreams) and gets the art of conversation. It brings me such joy!

We went to visit family and friends in Michigan two weeks ago.  Little man was pleasant with the masses of people, but few things feel better than when your child can pick your face out of a crowd.  He would smile at me, even with so many other friendly faces in his line of vision.

It is all so sweet.

Does my baby have Scabies? A Seuss inspired entry about Parent Paranoia

A bump on the hand,

A few on the arm,
Do these little red marks,
mean my baby harm?
 
Examine the spots,
To the internet-Go!
Does my baby have Scabies?
I just have to know.

A gallery of rashes,
just what I need!
Does my baby have Scabies?
Please, no, I plead.

The photos show sores,
they show hives and show scabs.
They explain how it grows
and they make it look bad.

I look at my baby, 
all happy and chill
And I know for a fact,
that he is not ill.

Stupid internet,
lets me self-diagnose.
I am not a doctor,
no, not even close.

No Scabies for this baby,
but the mom is not good.
She had her first bout of panic.
Hello, motherhood.


Note:  This baby had a bug bite and some generic baby skin bumps that they just get sometimes.  I knew this starting out, but feel victim to the "what-ifs".

Getting Okay with Gross

I am not a squeemish person.  I can kill spiders, scrape pumpkin goo, and get blood drawn without much of a fuss.  But after having a baby there some just plain gross things that can happen and others that are inevitable.  So I knew to anticipate lochia (which if you don't know what that is, that's a fun google search for you) and all the things that come with settling down of hormones. 

Speaking of...I woke up the other night sweated soaked.  It was disgusting.  I knew that it wasn't hot in the room and that there was no external reason for this to have happened.  Then suddenly, I could hear my mom's voice telling me about these awful night sweats she had been having.  Ugh, I was so grossed out, I dragged myself out of bed and went to the bathroom.  After flushing my face with cold water, I started looking at this old mug close up in the mirror and wondering when all this acne reappeared.  I did that thing where you look at each side real close and get more upset each time, but still keep looking.  I decided to try and be grateful that I had a short reprieve from it.  Well, since I was already out of bed and in the bathroom, I decided to go ahead and treat my hemorrhoids-FUN!  That process always gets me worked up and grossed out, and I realized I needed to reapply my deodorant, which normally works fine, but with my hormones they way they are, I need to start keeping the container in my pocket.  At precisely that moment, I realized how gross I am.

And it is not just that I am gross, my beloved son is also very gross.  I don't know with how many foot pounds of torque other babies poop, but my son has so much gusto that I am sure he could disprove physics laws for his size and poo power.  Around here, we call it "The Rocket Shits".  First, there is the look.  The face-puckering-I-am-working-here-look.  Second, the sound.  Third, the feeling of it.   Fourth, the smell.  He twosied  so intensely the other day, we both had to change clothes.  Shirt and pants!

In addition to The Rocket Shits (TRS-to save time), there was also a pee incident.  I was changing him the other day and while the diaper was off, he felt free to pee.  This happens from time to time and while it is kinda gross, it is an easy fix and smell free.  However, this particular day, I had just fed him.  He was starting to doze off, but I needed to change him and get him ready to go.  As I pulled the old diaper off of him, I was looking at his cute little face, and suddenly, it was getting wet!  Completely disoriented, I start looking at the ceiling for leaks, thinking that there is water coming into the room somewhere.  Finally, I feel it hit my arm and realize the source of the sprung leak.  I quickly through the old diaper on top and stop the fountain.  But then I panic! I looked down at his contented little face and I could suddenly picture myself on the phone with the pediatrician saying, "He peed in his eye!  Lord, help me, there is pee in his eye!"  I strip him down and head for the sink and flush his face with water the best I can.  I am about to cry and he doesn't seem to care at all.  My husband assures me that since it is sterile, he will be okay.  And he is, thankfully.

It is easy to get depressed about how gross my life has become, but we are starting to figure out that this is now our normal and work to find the humor in it.  Now, when little man gets TRS, we just pick him up and make lift off noises, do the NASA count down, and make other rocket jokes.  When I go into the bathroom and am reminded of all my grossness, I put earrings in.  It isn't much, but it is a start at looking decent. 

Be not afraid!

A lot of my posts have been about yikes moments and fears realized, but I wanted to share some happy endings.  There were a few things that I was apprehensive about facing, but I am happy to share with you some good outcomes.

1.  I was worried I wouldn't be able to handle the nighttime/constant demands of a baby.  There have been so many times when I have been dead to the world, then my little guy would tell me he needed me by crying, trying to latch-on to my arms/t-shirt, or rocket pooping out the back of his diaper and up his back, and every time, the strength and energy appeared to give him what he needed.  There were times I couldn't have formed a cohesive sentence or even managed to walk in a straight line, but if little man wanted to eat for an hour, the strength was there.

2.  Even if your partner watches the baby come out of your hooha, they'll still love you and find you attractive (in due time...j/k, well maybe).  I know I looked like a hot mess with my legs up, sweating, and making some strange noises, but thankfully he is either really quick to forget or actually really okay with it.  Have no fear, they will be questioning the doctor's "six weeks of not doing it" while you are still recovering.

3.  Bodies are very resilient.  So for nine months, you stretch out your skin, muscles, and clothes.  I was naturally curious about how my body would reset.  Everyone's body is different and the general consensus is that it takes nine months to put on the weight it should take nine months to take it off.  Here is the good thing though, everyday for over a week, you can watch yourself start moving back to normal.  The day after I had the baby, I looked about like I did at 6 months pregnant.  Then with each day I watched myself shrink a little more.  There are definitely some pounds that will be here until I decide to work up a sweat and fight them off, but know, after delivery you can eat like a fiend and you will still shrink up, at least for a little while.

4. The hospital to home transition was smooth.  At the hospital there is a feeling of security because medical professionals are checking on you and your baby often, so for a lot of people it is scary to go home.  However, I found it be wonderful.  The first night, we threw a pizza in the oven, wrapped all three of us in one blanket, and settled in for a marathon of Parks and Recreation.  It was exactly our life but with a new feeling of completeness.  When we went to bed I was exhausted but knew that I could very easily stay up all night worrying about the baby.  I desperately needed to sleep so I quietly sat down next to the bassinet and decided to let go of all the "what-ifs" and have faith that things would be fine.  And they have been.

A Few Surprises

As you know, I did a lot of reading and mental preparation to gear up for labor and delivery.  However, there are several things that caught me off guard during and shortly after.

Here is the list.

1. The shakes.  I was about two hours into labor, when started shaking.  It was like I was cold, my teeth were chattering and my whole body shook, but I didn't feel cold.  It scared me.  I thought maybe it was because I didn't eat anything before or maybe the pitocin was causing it.  I dealt with it for a while, then I asked my nurse about it.  Thankfully, she said that it was normal.  She said it is just something that happens to some women as their body works through labor.  The shakes came and went during labor, but were gone when it was time to push.  They returned after labor, but piles of blankets helped to warm and soothe them away.

2.  After working the downstairs to push a human out, everything is kind of...not normal.  For example,  when I got to my postpartum room, I felt urge to pee.  I knew that it was going to take me about 5 minutes to get up and shuffle the 10 feet to the loo.  I was on my way, and really feeling the need to get my cheeks on the seat, but could not get there fast enough.  Everything down there was so tired, that I did not have the ability to "hold it".  What I am saying is, I peed on the bathroom floor.  Two steps away from the toilet.  This happened twice before I figured out to just go to the bathroom every two hours regardless of need, to avoid this from happening again.  Also, the farts returned to the parade...there is no holding those back either.

3.  Little man's nipples were swollen and kind of hard.  Our pediatrician told us that he gets hormones from breastmilk.  Those same hormones may be responsible for his baby acne.

4.  On that note, I thought breastfeeding was going to be this quiet, tender bonding time with baby.  However, it hurts.  It's tricky.  And the solution is the lactation consultants/nurses all forcefully grabbing your boobs and shoving it into baby's face.  With time, it has gotten better.  I have been getting some help from my local Le Leche League.  If you find yourself in this same situation, you may find help at one of their meetings, here is how to find a meeting:
http://www.llli.org/

Baby Stats

The baby weighed in at 8 pounds 7 ounces.  A big jump from the estimated 7 pounds 3 ounces as determined by the ultrasound just 3 days before.

He was 22 inches long, which is aparently very long (according to the nurses).  I also learned that they do not measure the baby when they are first born.  The coning of the head makes for an extended measurement.  The nurses did not measure our little man until he was about 12 hours old.

He had hair.  When they first handed me our son, he was still wet and it looked like he had brown hair. It wasn't until that evening (after his bath) that I pulled his cap back and saw the little blonde locks underneath.

All fingers and toes were accounted for.  Thankfully, his nails weren't too long, which happens to a lot of babies, so he didn't have to wear the little mittens.

He has blue eyes.  When he decided to open his eyes, I saw that they were a really dark blue.  They have lightened since then, but are still a pretty, deep blue color.

He could hold his head up right from birth.  When the nurse laid him on my chest after delivery, he soon started lifting his head and began rooting around.  His neck is very strong, but looks so little compared to his head, that I have given him the unfortunate nickname of "Turtle Man".  He is too small to tell me he hates it, so for now, it's Turtle Man.

He has had the hiccups every day since he has been born.  He had them in utero as well, but they seem much more intense in the outside world.

Likes:
loud "shh-ing"
rocking chairs
rides in the car
putting his arms up next to his head when sleeping-he always looks like he is riding a roller coaster.

Dislikes:
sitting/resting in one position for too long
hiccups
sleeping after he kicks his legs out of the swaddle

I am learning so much about him.  I like knowing that his little personality is already in there and that he is already training me on how he wants things to be.

Push it! Push it real good!

*Warning: this is a labor and delivery story, not sparing any of the details*

On September 10th, at 7:00 am, I walked into the hospital ready to have a baby.  At the reception desk, I filled out some paperwork and waited (not patiently) to get up to the room.  Each thing I did was followed with an echo of, "That the last time you get out your insurance card/push the number 4 on an elevator/sign your name/etc. not as a mom".  At about 7:45, I made it to my room, put on my gown and climbed into bed.  The nurse came in and talked with me for a while, just getting to know me.  Then another nurse came in and asked me a lot of questions about my health history.  Shortly after she finished her questioning, the nurse anesthetist gave me the complete description of getting an epidural and I signed the release in the event that I decided to get some pain relief.

Then-showtime.  The nurse attached the IV and started the pitocin to induce labor and added a line of saline to keep me hydrated.  (Since I was being induced, I had been fasting for 12 hours and not had anything to drink.)  She then hooked up two monitors to my belly, one for the baby and one for me.  Then she put on the blood pressure cuff and a finger-squeezy-pulse-thing.  My doctor then stopped by and broke my water, which feels like you are peeing yourself and makes everything from there on out messy and gross.  By now it was about 8:30.

The first hour was very mild.  My parents stopped in to check on us and my husband showed me some funny online videos, but by 9:30 it was down to business.  I started to really feel the contractions and kept moving around to try to ease the pain.  I knew that I was supposed to be getting rest in between contractions, but the pain was constant.  I told my nurse, who decided to back down my pitocin.  Thankfully, once they jump started my labor, my body kicked in and started working on it's own.  Backing down the pitocin let me rest between contractions, and by about noon, they were able to take me off the pitocin altogether.  

I labored sitting on the edge of the bed, sitting on a yoga ball, and also tried just standing up.  My husband held my hands and counted to 20, then backwards back to 1.  I knew that when he said 20 the contraction was as bad as it was going to get and by the time he said 1 it would be over.  With every number he said, I squeezed his hands to give me an outlet for the pain.

I keep saying pain, let me say, it was unlike anything I have ever felt before.  In the beginning stages it felt like a strong period cramp (which I have had plenty of in my life), but as it progressed, I could feel the pain wrap itself around me from my back, then all the way around my stomach.  It absolutely hurt, but once it was over, I could rest and recover.  I found myself doing two things I didn't expect.  Swaying and moaning.  Just like it soothes a baby; it was very soothing to me.  It was like crowding my senses with other non-pain sensations.  Between contractions, I would just sway side to side and these little sounds kept escaping me.  I didn't really feel like I could control it.  I made no conscious choice to do these things and was barely aware that I was doing them.  

I kept up this routine, keeping my husband always in contact with me, throughout the morning.  The nurse and doctor checked me several times for dilation.  I was making good progress and faster than expected.  I don't know if it helped, but every time I had a contraction I thought about the baby moving down, that each pain was working to get this little one out into the world.

By about 12:45, they told me I could get into the shower.  I was dilated to an 8 and off the pitocin.  I was so grateful to sit in the warm stream of water and let it hit my back, but I only got to sit there for about 5 minutes.  The water so relaxing, that all of a sudden I yelled to my husband that it felt like I had to poop!  I knew that I wasn't really going to poop (I had already done that earlier in the labor process, and in the toilet-not the table, I might add) but it was that pushing urge.  He yanked the red emergency cord on the wall and the nurse was there.  They got me out of the shower and onto the bed, where the checked me again it was push time.

Best I can estimate, pushing lasted about an hour.  It was strange, I felt the need to push and thought I would know what to do, but really, I had no clue.  After kind of writhing around through the first real pushing contraction, the nurse called me by name and said, "You need to focus!"  She gave me about a thousand directions, legs here!, hands there!, head here!, etc.  It was hard to take it all in, but with some time, we got there.  I could feel when pushing was working and when I wasn't being effective.  This kept up for a while and the doctor and my husband gave me updates throughout.

People gave my husband lots of tips, mostly different forms of, "DON'T look down there!" However, when it was time to push, the nurse took my left leg and directed my husband to take the right one.  The two of them stayed there the whole time.  He could see the baby's head when it crowned and encouraged me to keep going.  I was glad it was him telling me what was going on. I didn't feel like he was watching this happen, he was in it with me, counting, breathing, and holding me up.  And I am eternally grateful for that.

I kept working to get this baby here but was struggling to get passed the baby's head.  So the doctor told my husband to look away and made an episiotomy.  When he finished, I knew this baby was almost here.  I have this quick snapshot image of the baby's quiet, gray face as the doctor worked the shoulders out.  He told me to give a strong push and my husband kept saying that the baby is "almost here".  My eyes were still closed tight when I felt that baby leave, the doctor told me to open my eyes and as I did, I saw them lifting the now-crying baby up onto my chest all wet and beautiful and slippery.  I just cried and cried, grateful that the baby had made it.  On the way to my chest my husband saw the evidence and told me that we had a boy.  

Our sweet little boy.