Charles Albon: An Arrival Tale

It’s been quiet around here lately, but things haven’t been quite so quiet at home, because we have a third baby! Naturally, of course, this requires a written birth story for posterity. Please feel free to skip this post if birth stories are not your thing.

In order to properly tell this tale, we need to go back several weeks before he was actually born. I had a relatively easy pregnancy, at least until 32 weeks or so, but things were a little chaotic at home for most of the time. Specifically, we’ve all lived through a pandemic, and the entire family was in a constant cycle of sickness of all varieties from the end of October 2021 all the way through to about…last week. We dealt with several common colds, at least two stomach bugs, RSV, a double ear infection, weeks of coughing (which for James, would wake him up at night and cause him to throw up), and then to cap it all off, we all got Covid when I was 32 weeks along. To be honest, Covid was not so bad for me personally - I had what felt like a mild flu for three days and then I was fine. But the kids had it worse, and when the kids are sick with a scary virus that has had the world in varying degrees of lockdown for two years, anxiety is a fun parental side effect.

After all of that, I was completely worn out. I got an extra ultrasound thanks to the Covid diagnosis and everything looked good, but it was hard to shake off the feeling that Something Could Be Wrong. Around that time, my blood pressure started acting up as well - I had a few instances of extreme blood pressure drops, where I would come close to either passing out or throwing up and which resulted in full body shakes and very low energy for a few hours afterward. Then, at a couple of my appointments, my blood pressure was reading high, which I was told was cropping up in a lot of pregnant moms who had had Covid during pregnancy. I was also dealing with near-daily headaches, and overall just not feeling well. None of these things did anything to help my anxiousness approaching labor and delivery. At around 36 weeks, I was sent to the birth center at the hospital for a non-stress test and lab work because of the high blood pressure readings, and while everything checked out normal, they had me return the following week for another blood pressure check just to make sure. At that point, they told me that if I had a third high blood pressure reading (and no signs of preeclampsia), I’d be put on a track toward induction as early as 37 weeks for gestational hypertension.

By that time, I just wanted to be done being pregnant, since I was so tired of feeling so unwell for so long. However, I didn’t end up with any additional high blood pressure readings. I generally found that if I drank a ridiculous amount of water, kept my dessert consumption very low, and got a semi-reasonable amount of sleep, the symptoms were kept more at bay. And so as each day went by, I slowly crept closer and closer to my due date and started believing that we’d actually make it to full term.

With all of that health nonsense, I was absolutely dreading the idea of going through labor without pain medication - I’d had more than enough of discomfort and feeling out of control with health stuff for the previous months that I wasn’t in the right headspace to manage contractions all the way through to the finish line, so to speak. On the other hand, I’d had such a bad experience with the epidural I got during my first labor that I felt pretty apprehensive about the idea of dealing with that during delivery again. So, on a 1 to 10 scale, my enthusiasm level about giving birth could probably be placed somewhere around negative 5000. I decided to pray for three very specific things: 1) that I would go into labor during the day rather than the night, since I was constantly so tired; 2) that the delivery would be smooth and quick; and 3) that I’d feel peace about it as we got closer.

Finally, I had my last scheduled appointment the day before my due date. Up until this point, I had mostly seen the midwives at the practice, but that day, I saw one of the OBs. She’s European, and it showed - every sentence she spoke was succinct and to the point. We wasted zero minutes on small talk and she started off by immediately asking if I wanted a sweep to get things going. She very clearly wanted a yes or no answer provided in (again) zero minutes, and since I wasn’t terribly eager to remain pregnant even though L&D felt ominous, I agreed to it. She did that, scheduled me an induction date for the following Thursday if I didn’t go into labor, announced I’d bleed a bit, and waltzed out the door in the span of three minutes, and I was on my way.

My parents, who had come down to watch the other kids while I was at the doctor, decided to stick around in case things picked up. I was having sporadic contractions that were more uncomfortable than the Braxton Hicks ones I’d been having for the past few weeks, so I was hopeful that things would actually pick up. We waited around for the rest of the afternoon, ate spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, and got ready for bed, half expecting to wake up in the middle of the night to make the trek to the hospital.

And then we all woke up the following morning, very much still at home.

We all took it very easy the next day. It was my actual due date, so I kept hoping that we’d have a due date baby. Wouldn’t that be statistically fun? However, I told Chaz that I really preferred 6/18 to 6/17 as a birthday, just because it seemed mathematically better. 18 is divisible by 6 after all…17 is just too much of a prime number. The contractions from the previous day were fewer and farther in between, although when they did happen, they had picked up in intensity just a little bit more. My dad installed a new light in our basement stairwell, with James’ assistance. Elise had her quiet time during James’ nap, and I decided to go lie down in her room. We ended up both taking a nap, which is something that doesn’t happen very often anymore.

My parents stayed around for the day, just because it did feel like labor was imminent, even if not starting at that very moment. We were so grateful for their help that we decided to go out for dinner that night. We ate Mexican food and drank margaritas outside (well…no margarita for me) and had a really nice time. Once again, contractions picked up in intensity a tiny bit, but they were so few and far between that I didn’t think we’d be heading to the hospital immediately. We joked that we picked a restaurant in Newburyport because it was close to the hospital. Nevertheless, we finished our tasty dinner, headed home, did the bath and bedtime routine for the kids, and then watched the Return to Space Netflix documentary like the nerds that we are. If you’re into that sort of thing…it’s good! Watch it! Eventually, we all went to bed around 10:00.

A contraction woke me up at 1:30. It felt not much different than the ones before, but something about it seemed more purposeful. I got up and used the bathroom before climbing back in bed. Chaz half woke up and asked if everything was ok, and I declared everything was fine. Two contractions later, I decided to start timing them. They were still 12 to 13 minutes apart, but they kept going instead of fizzling out. Over the course of the next hour, they gradually got closer together, and I woke Chaz up for real at 3:00 when they’d reached 6 to 7 minutes apart. I hadn’t called the birth center quite yet, but Chaz started packing his things and I went downstairs in the dark to refill my glass of water and work through a couple more contractions by myself. I didn’t think I was making any noise, but the Disturbance in the Force must have woken my parents up, because my dad popped out of the guest room and we all knew there would be an external baby sometime today.

Finally, I called the birth center. Actually, I tried googling the birth center’s phone number directly, but it turns out their webpage doesn’t have their phone number on it (?!??) and I had to call the general hospital line and be transferred. I guess they don’t want calls for no reason? Mysterious. The midwife asked me about my other two labors and when I mentioned James had been born in under four hours, she told me to come in!

We were on the road by 3:52 - which I only know because I remember looking at the clock specifically - and the horizon was just starting the lighten the slightest bit. The contractions slowed down on the road. I think I only had two or three on the way there, and I wondered if they would send me home. My anxiety about the birth process had come back in full force and I was trying to get rid of the fear around it since I knew it had to happen one way or another.

We arrived at the emergency entrance to the hospital shortly thereafter and I told Chaz to drop me off at the doors before he parked. I waddled my way to the elevator feeling uncomfortable and made my way up to the birth center on the second floor. They were expecting me when I buzzed the buzzer and they let me right in, guiding me back to a delivery room and hooking me up to the monitors. By this time, the contractions were even further apart and less painful than they had been even in the car, so yet again I worried they might end up sending me home. However, the nurse and the midwife both assured me that things would pick back up, and since I was already past my due date, they weren’t going to send me home. I told them that even though my birth plan had said I wanted to go without pain medication if I could, I didn’t want that at all anymore and I’d probably want an epidural.

Right away, we noticed that any time I had a contraction, the baby’s heart rate dropped really, really low. Given my state of mind, my thoughts went automatically straight to the nuclear potential outcome: I was totally going to have a c-section, for which I was zero percent mentally prepared. I looked at the nurse and said, “For what it’s worth…if I have to have a c-section, I want to be totally knocked out. I do not want to be awake for surgery.” Maybe not my best moment, but at least I was honest? She laughed and said, “Well…if it comes to that, there might not be time. But what makes you think you’re going to have a c-section?! You’ve had two natural deliveries already!” That was mildly comforting, as was the fact that his heart rate stabilized even through contractions when they turned me on to my left side.

After an hour or so on the monitors, they checked me and told me I was at a 4 centimeters, which was both good (I’d made some progress since my appointment two days prior) and bad (I was hoping for more), and they asked me if I wanted the epidural now or later. I decided I’d try to get things moving a little before taking the plunge and having a giant needle stuck in my back. They took off the monitors and I stood up and walked around a bit, even telling Chaz to take a photo while I could still stand up…and definitely between contractions.

Sure enough, that did the trick, and within probably 20 minutes I told them I was ready. Fortunately, they’d given me the pre-epidural IV when I arrived, so within five minutes Dr. Parker, the anesthesiologist, walked in with all of his consent forms and tools for the job. I told him my history with the first time I’d been epiduralized (that should be a word, I say) and he told me that they’d given me extra hydration with the IV to avoid the blood pressure drop, and they’d start me on a very low dose. Ok! Sign me up! I put my signature on all the paperwork, Chaz was instructed to sit in a chair on the opposite side of the room to ensure that he didn’t pass out (I suppose this was frequent enough with husbands at births to make it standard procedure) and I made sure to look far, far away from any sharp objects on Dr. Parker’s tray.

A few minutes later and I was lying down comfortably on the bed, relaxing while the nurse told me that I hadn’t even blinked when I had a contraction. BEAUTIFUL. And then we were mostly left to our own devices, and after I had bided my time a little bit to see if any weird side effects happened (they didn’t!), I settled down to wait. I could still move and feel my legs, but there was no pain. It was peaceful (answer to prayer number 3), calm, and quiet, and our nurse, Michelle, checked on us every once in awhile. I ate a popsicle. A red one, per request.

In a couple of hours, I realized my labor shakes had gotten worse, and I wondered if I’d hit transition. A quick check confirmed it, and the doctor asked if I wanted to have my water broken to speed things up. Since I wasn’t keen on more interventions than absolutely necessary and I was feeling fine, I declined for the time being, and we continued to wait. I started noticing that I felt like I needed to push a bit with each contraction. Very shortly after that, Michelle came back in and studied the monitor for a moment. Remember when I had first arrived and the baby had heart rate decelerations with each contraction? It had started happening again! “Baby is letting us know he wants to come out!” she said, and without much hesitation I told them to go ahead and break my water to get him out, safe and sound.

Michelle set up her delivery table, and then the doctor came in and suited up. She broke my water, and then things got a little crazy. They had turned the monitor volume all the way off while I was laboring, but turned it back up so I could hear the heartbeat while I pushed. When the next contraction came and I could feel all the pressure to push, his heart rate dropped again - but it dropped so much that it sounded like it stopped. I heard them call the neonatologist and a couple of NICU nurses. I was rolled to my left with no success, and then to the right, again without any change. They had me get up on my hands and knees, and when that didn’t change anything, I went back on my back. His heartbeat was normal when I wasn’t contracting, but it was very clear that he needed to come out now. The c-section fears started to creep in again, but he was right there. I heard the doctor ask for a vacuum, and I suddenly imagined a repeat of the end of Elise’s birth along with the really rough recovery. With the next two contractions, I pushed as hard as I could, and I actually thought the doctor was using the vacuum, and with the completely unmentioned threat of a possible episiotomy hovering over me, Charlie came out in two pushes.

He cried right away, and all the fears immediately disappeared. He was pink and perfect, and he promptly pooped all over my belly as soon as they laid him on me. I guess he knew how to make an entrance. Just like with James, I got to cut the cord, and all was well.

I worried a bit that recovery would be rougher than it was after James was born, since everyone says that recovery from a natural delivery is so much easier than recovery after delivery with an epidural. That was certainly true for me between my first and second births, but this one has been perhaps the easiest. The birth felt a little redemptive - it had none of the slightly traumatic drama from the first epidural, episiotomy, and really painful recovery, and it had none of the out-of-control factor from the second unexpectedly natural labor. So while I didn’t start labor during the day, the other three prayers were answered in full: it was a smooth delivery, and, though it was longer than James’ birth, it was still quick, but long enough to feel peaceful instead of frantic or rushed. Thanks be to God.

James and Elise came to meet him in the afternoon, and then two days later, we were all at home once again.

Now, at three weeks old, he’s a contented little creature and we love him to bits. What a precious gift.

Best Baby Gear (Second Child Edition)

I actually wrote up this entire post once already and then shut my computer without saving it, and it DISAPPEARED. It was tragic, but perhaps it was poorly written and needed a second go-round. At least that’s what I’m telling myself to make it seem better. Onward!

When Elise was very small, I created a list of most used/loved baby gear. I like to think that I’m perhaps slightly more experienced and/or well informed the second time around, although since every child is different, maybe I still know nothing. Regardless, there are things that we use all the time, and maybe it will be useful for other soon-to-be moms out there. Alternatively, if you ARE already a mom, please tell me if I’m missing some crucial items that I need to add to my baby collection!

Item Number 1: OxiClean

It is a fact of life that babies make a lot of messes on their clothes, so having a stain removal system is a necessity. I think there are several products that make stain removal easy, but my personal preference is OxiClean powder. Get yourself a gallon of cold water, add a scoop of the powder, stir it all up and throw in the clothes. Leave it in the solution for a few hours (or if you’re like me, a few days, because your laundry room is in the basement and out of sight = out of mind) and then wash the no-longer-soiled garments with the rest of your laundry. Voila! No more stains! Considering how often poop gets on clothes (or, you know, older baby stains, like food, dirt, berry juice, etc.), I recommend buying this product at Costco.

Item Number 2: Halo Swaddles

Halo swaddles were a life saver this time. I didn’t get the hang of swaddling during round one, but I’m glad I figured it out because it seriously helped with sleeping. I should add here that I also had fallen prey to marketing and great reviews on the Ollie swaddle, which people seem to rave about. In my opinion, the Velcro is way too loud and the whole thing seemed too stiff, and James seemed to really dislike being in it, while Halo swaddles kept him nice and cozy. I know I’m not towing the party line on that one, but there you have my two cents!

Item Number 3: the Zipadee-Zip

While it has a silly name, this swaddle transition sleep sack is great. James was quite dependent on being swaddled in order to sleep well while he was tiny, but ever since he started the very first signs of rolling, he had to be unswaddled ever after. Enter the Zipadee-Zip. It still offers a little bit of resistance when moving, and it covers his hands, but he still has a full range of motion and can roll over with no problems. Hooray! When he’s not wearing it, he takes forever to fall asleep. He also looks like a cute little starfish while enrobed in it, which is a great plus.

Here’s a blurry photo of him wearing his Zipadee-Zip to display how he’s nice and cozy.

All of these things (minus the OxiClean) seem to share a theme. Specifically, if it helps him/us sleep, it’s on the list. Which brings me to…

Item Number 4: Taking Cara Babies Sleep Courses

I’ve raved about the newborn course offered by Taking Cara Babies in other posts, but I am calling it out in particular here. This course taught me how to get James to sleep by himself. Bedtime is a breeze, he has never cried himself to sleep (in fact, there was no crying involved at all), and he doesn’t have to nurse to get himself back to sleep when he does wake up in the night. I wish I had known about this when Elise was born. While James still does occasionally wake at night, all he needs is his pacifier popped back in, which takes about three seconds. It’s beautiful. I will sing Cara’s praises to anyone who will listen and cares about getting babies to sleep. And if you’re a parent to an older baby who might feel like you missed the window on the newborn class, she has classes for older babies as well! It’s not the cheapest thing in the world, but it’s WELL worth the price.

Item Number 5: Hatch Rest Sound Machine

This is another thing that you’d probably find on almost any mom blogger’s blog, because I’ve seen it all over the place. But I LOVE this sound machine. Right now Elise is actually the one using it in our house, but eventually both kids are going to be sharing a room so it’ll benefit both of them; therefore I say it still counts as “baby gear.” You can control it both on the machine itself or via your phone, and I think they even have a new fancy version that can be linked with an Alexa device, if you have one of those. Another benefit is that down the line (as we’re doing with Elise), you can use it as a time to rise light, so you can set a time for it to change to a specific color and sound to let your kid know that it’s ok to get up. If you have a kid that rises at ungodly pre-dawn hours like Elise, this is a giant plus.

Item Number 6: Ergobaby Carrier

While my first love (when it comes to baby carriers) will always and forever be a Solly baby wrap, I found that my lower back hurt more after this pregnancy and I needed a little extra lumbar support in the early days. My Ergobaby carrier fit the bill, and it really helped me get things done that I wouldn’t have been able to otherwise while holding a baby in my arms. I have the original version, although it looks like they may have stopped making those in favor of some fancier new versions instead. It turns out that they also have a reselling page on their website, so you can get refurbished ones for a lower cost!

Item Number 7: Anything from Little Unicorn

Little Unicorn makes my absolute favorite baby bath towels, swaddle blankets, and non-homemade quilts. The patterns are the cutest, and the quality is fantastic. The quilts are my favorite blankets to bring places while traveling, because they’re warm but also fold up decently well, and overall just seem very cozy. Here’s Elise with one of the big kid towels (a gift from Nana!) while perhaps casting a spell?

And James joyriding in his stroller with one of the quilts:

Pro tip: wait for a sale.

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Those are the main ones I’d recommend, although I’ll throw in a few more honorable mentions. We use Bibs pacifiers, and James took them right from the beginning. We also use this door frame bouncy seat all the time, and James bounces all over the place while squealing with delight. Also, I count Trader Joe’s dark chocolate peanut butter cups as indispensable baby gear…for me.

And there you have it! If we ever have a third kid, you can probably expect a similar list, because more kids = more knowledge.

One Month of James

Look at this! Two blog posts in a row? HELLO, WORLD.

James is one month old, plus a little change. In fact, if we’re being honest, he’s actually closer to 1.5 months, but who’s counting?

It’s very fair to say that babies don’t do a whole lot in their first month of life, but the things that they DO do, they do with significant expertise. All that to say…he’s a champ at eating, sleeping, and pooping. We change a looooot of dirty diapers. I’d say his area of most success is sleeping, though - he sleeps in his own bed, in a swaddle, on his back , and puts himself to sleep! Considering newborn Elise slept completely unswaddled, either in our bed OR on her stomach in a pack and play, and had to be nursed to sleep, this is like a whole new world. I credit that success 100% to Taking Cara Babies, and I wish I’d had it as a resource during my first round of newborn care.

He’s typically sleeping a solid 6-hour stretch at night already, which I attribute again to Taking Cara Babies and also the fact that the kid loves his milk. He’s gained over three pounds since birth and has some adorable rolls to show for it.

He has started to smile recently, and though I haven’t yet caught it on camera, it’s possibly the cutest thing in the world. Overall he just seems like a pretty happy kid, although he’s also mastered the grumpy old man face and has a hairline to match.

He doesn’t have any unusual nicknames. Most of the time we just call him James, although I tend to call him Jamie when I’m talking either directly to him or to Elise.

At this point…I think that’s most of what there is to report. It’s exciting to see him sort of wake up a little more as each week passes! He’s our little buddy, and we love him so much.

As a bonus, Elise wanted in on the photoshoot action, so here’s a shot just of her, since she’s been upgraded to Big Sister. Enjoy!

James Ashley: An Arrival Tale

As previously stated when I typed up Elise’s birth story, feel free to skip this if reading birth stories is not something you enjoy. But also as previously stated in Elise’s narrative, I want to have written it all down for my own memory-keeping, since it’s amazing how fast the details start slipping away, even a couple of weeks after the fact. So here we go!

My due date was New Year’s Eve, and since Elise was a few days early, I expected that I was going to go into labor even earlier the second time. Basically, once I hit 37 weeks, I woke up every day wondering why I was still pregnant. On the other hand, I was MUCH more comfortable at the end of pregnancy this time compared to last time, so the wait wasn’t terrible. I was shooting to give him a birthday any time between 12/10 and 12/22 at the latest, since I really wanted to avoid either giving birth or being in the hospital on Christmas. December 10th came and went, as did the rest of the week, then the week before Christmas, and then Christmas week was upon us and I started praying that I would NOT go into labor until after Christmas was over.

I guess God heard my prayers and answered them with interest, because while everyone was telling me that I would be so relaxed after Christmas happened that I would automatically start the process on December 26th, nothing happened at all. I had some sporadic contractions that didn’t really hurt here and there, but nothing that had me ready to call up the hospital. I took a picture at 12:59 pm on December 28 to mark the fact that I was officially more pregnant than I ever had been before (by one minute, at that point) and hoped that I’d have a baby that night.

I did not.

On December 30th, I walked into my 40 week appointment (which was actually at 39 weeks + 6 days), a little shocked that I had actually made it, and saw my favorite midwife. She told me I was at a 3 and tried to help me get things started with a sweep, commenting that she was going to be the one at the hospital that night and hoped to see me there. I was similarly hopeful, but NO DICE. That evening we went over to the shopping plaza near our office to walk around and look at lights, and we stopped at Elise’s favorite shop: the Amazon bookstore. We had done the same thing the day I went into labor with Elise, and I thought it would be a fun bit of parallelism if I had a baby that night. I had some light contractions that were 8 to 10 minutes apart that evening, but they were only 45 seconds long and fizzled out when I went to bed.

I should add a comment here that with Elise, the day before I went into labor I felt like I had the stomach flu, so I was expecting/dreading that to happen again before going into labor a second time. My labors would probably be very, very similar, right? Famous last…thoughts.

Yet again, the next morning (my due date!) I woke up and thought, “WHY AM I STILL PREGNANT?!?” Chaz went to work, we carried on with a normal day, and once again I had a few random contractions, but nothing consistent. The same thing happened the next day, so I decided this baby was never coming out and I might as well just “enjoy” being pregnant forever. That evening we ate a PF Chang’s frozen meal for dinner and I hoped that I wouldn’t see it later. We all went to bed.

I woke up at 2:30 with a contraction. It felt like the light 8-to-10-minutes-apart ones from the previous days, but it HAD woken me up, so I just made a mental note that it had happened and tried to go back to sleep. Just a few minutes later, I had another one, but I told myself it was probably nothing and tried to go back to sleep again. When the third one came, I decided that maybe I should start timing them, just to see if they were still 8 to 10 minutes apart, or if they were longer than 45 seconds. To my surprise, they were 6 to 7 minutes apart and lasting a full minute and a half, which is (unfortunately) normal for me during active labor. Still, I wasn’t convinced, so I got up to use the bathroom and figured they’d stop once I did that. As soon as I got up, they sped up to 4 minutes apart. Since I could still manage them easily, I continued to believe they would probably die down, but Chaz woke up when I came back to bed and I told him he might want to think about moving his meeting scheduled at work later that morning.

Unlike me, he decided things were actually happening (which was wise) and got up to take a shower and pack a bag. I called my parents at 3:18 am to come watch Elise (THANKS, mom and dad!) and then called the birth center at the hospital at 3:27. I said something to the effect of, “Well, I think I’m in labor, but I can still talk through contractions so it seems like it’s pretty early…”

They told me to come in anyway, so I got ready to go and hoped that they wouldn’t end up sending me home in an hour. Just like with Elise’s labor, I made sure I put in earrings, for some unknown reason. Every time a contraction hit I’d squat all the way to the floor and breathe. By 4:20 my parents had arrived and we got in the car, with me turning around in the front seat to continue my squatting and breathing routine. Things slowed down a little bit when we left the house, so I was somehow STILL convinced that this wasn’t real and they were going to send me home.

That changed when my water broke as we were driving down the highway. Since my water hadn’t broken with Elise until they broke it for me in the hospital, I was completely unprepared for that possibility and therefore only had a feather down blanket in the back seat to keep amniotic fluid from getting all over my car. Fun times! It worked well enough, and I realized we for sure wouldn’t be leaving the hospital without a baby.

We arrived at the hospital just a few minutes later, and I had two or three more contractions as we walked in through the emergency entrance - the regular entrance was locked during the night hours. We actually tried the ambulance door first, and some security guard gave us a funny look before we realized it was the wrong spot.

The nurses were waiting for me when we got up to L&D. They opened the door for me without us having to press the buzzer, and whether it was because I told them my water had broken or just because it wasn’t my first baby, they skipped bringing me through triage and brought me straight back to a delivery room. They asked me if I needed a towel to clean up the car and I said something like, “Oh no, I had a blanket, and I guess these are very absorbent leggings!” They humored me by laughing at that…but in reality my water just hadn’t broken all the way because the rest of it broke all over the floor of the delivery room just before I changed into my hospital gown.

Things picked up rapidly from there. I’d checked in at 5 or 6 centimeters, and contractions were coming fast and furious, so as soon as I was in my hospital gown I told them that an epidural sounded REALLY GREAT. They acted a little surprised and told me I was “doing really well, so was I sure?” I figured they must say that to everyone, so I said, “No, really…it sounds like THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD.” They put in an order for one and got me hooked up to an IV bag of fluids. Apart from surviving through contractions, the only thing I could think about was the fact that I was extremely thirsty and I think I chugged two full giant cups of water during the whole labor process.

I need to give a quick shout out to the phlebotomist who did my blood draw right before the IV went in. I despise blood draws more than any other standard doctor procedure, and I literally didn’t even feel it. I don’t know what his name was, but he deserves some kind of medal.

The nurses left the room for the most part while the bag of fluid drained, checking in every so often. I knew I just had to stick it out until all the fluid was gone and the anesthesiologist arrived, so I kinda used my fists to simultaneously lie on my back and give myself some counter pressure, which was the only thing that was giving me any comfort. “Comfort” is a complete lie, as it was extremely UNcomfortable and at one point, I looked over at Chaz and said, “I JUST DON’T WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE!” and swore to myself that I was never having any more children. The only thing getting me through was a) picturing climbing a mountain when each contraction came and b) knowing that there were drugs on the way.

Actually, there was quite a lot of swearing to myself. If anyone had been inside my head, they might have concluded that I had been a very salty sailor in a previous life.

Around 6:15, the anesthesiologist waltzed in and said, “I’m Dr. Parker and I’m here to administer your epidural,” and then went through the litany of risks involved. I was well aware of those and just agreed to everything, while keeping my eyes closed and trying not to die, and also (so sorry, tmi warning here) feeling like I needed to use the bathroom rather desperately.

The nurse and anesthesiologist told me to swing my legs over the side of the bed, and that I’d need to sit still through the contractions while they placed the epidural. I remember saying, “Are you sure you can’t do it like this?!?” while I sat with one leg off the side of the bed and the other under me as I curled my back over like a cat. They said no.

At that point my body literally took over and the urge to “use the bathroom” won the day, except I didn’t actually need to use the bathroom. My eyes were shut this whole time, so I heard the anesthesiologist say, “When was the last time she was checked…?” I think I was sob-grunt-yelling as the nurse said, “It was about an hour ago…” and I just said, “I THINK I’M PUSHING.” The midwife was suddenly there and she told me to get on my side, which I thought was impossible but somehow happened anyway, and I opened my eyes just a crack to find that the room was filled with people before I shut them again.

I can’t tell you where Chaz was standing, I can’t tell you what happened to the anesthesiologist (was he there? did he leave the room? had we called him out of his warm bed at 5:00 in the morning only to send him back home? did he get shoved into the bathroom since there were so many people in the room? WHO KNOWS), and I can’t tell you what it looked like when my baby was born, but all of a sudden the midwife was saying, “Look what you did! You’re amazing! You did so, so well!” (still not sure they don’t say that to everyone) and there was a baby on my chest. So I guess I also flipped back onto my back?

Anyway…it was 6:21 am and he was here! (Side note: I myself was also born at 6:21, though it was in the evening. Crazy!) Start to finish, the entire labor was 3 hours and 51 minutes. They waited bit and then asked Chaz if he wanted to cut the cord (he did not), but I asked if I could and they let me! The midwife mentioned she’d never had a mom cut the cord before, which I thought was pretty cool. They cleaned me and everything else up, and then they let us just cuddle him for a couple of hours. Also, I got to order breakfast, which was the second best thing after having a fresh baby to snuggle.

Recovery this time was dramatically easier than recovery after my first birth, so if we ever have another baby, I think I might plan on a natural birth instead of wanting an epidural and then not making it. Considering I’d always wanted to have an unmedicated delivery but had also been dreading labor enough to want the relief of an epidural, this was probably the best possible outcome.

Now he’s a month an a half old, and he’s about as snuggly and wonderful as you might expect a baby to be, and we love him to bits.

Happy birthday, little buddy! We’re so very happy you’re here!

Ten Months of Elise

We've made it to another month day! Happy 10 months, Elise!

Also, a note: a took her pictures on the actual day, but I have been remiss in my chronicling duties and am posting about it a week late. Alas! 

The most notable thing to occur this month was the big trip, of course. That included several milestones for Elise: first international trip, first passport stamp, first croissant, etc. But she's glad to be home now, exploring her familiar things and places, and she's growing like a weed. Her 9-month clothes are getting too short, and I'm packing up some of my favorite outfits in favor of ones that fit. While I normally start with the standard white onesie shots, I decided to first pay homage to her hedgehog pajamas with the matching hat, since they're going to end up in the storage box after their next washing.

She's been practicing standing all on her own more and more lately, usually when she's absorbed in something (like removing all of the books from her bookshelf). She has also expanded her vocabulary a bit, using more consonants and speaking in what sound like full sentences of gibberish. 

We also discovered that she has sprouted yet another tooth, bringing the total up to five. I suspect that the same tooth on the other side is on its way in as well, but she hasn't been complaining about it. As a result, it may be a little while before her mouth gets into a symmetrical state again. She's totally pulling off the look though. 

She has also been sampling a ton of foods! She'll eat whatever is on my plate, and so I've tried to become more intentional about making her a little miniature meals at mealtime so that she gets a substantial amount of solids each day. That works some days and other days she subsists entirely on milk, but since food is more for exploration than nutrition at this point, I think she's doing just fine. 

As of eight or nine months, she began playing games with people, usually with Chaz, where she leans all the way over to one side when she's sitting or standing and expects you to reciprocate. Once you've leaned over to match her, she'll lean the other way and wait for you to follow. She thinks it's hilarious and the game is typically accompanied with lots of smiles, babbling, and giggles. 

And whenever she's in the presence of a light blanket, you can be sure she'll play peekaboo with you. She pulls the blanket up so it's covering her face, and when you ask where she is, she'll pull it down with gusto and grin. 

She has also developed a strong affinity for climbing anything and everything that she can, so stairs hold a particular fascination for her. However, when stairs are not available, the nearest chair suits her just fine. 

Fear not; I rescued her immediately once things started heading that direction. 

When not climbing, her preferred activity of late has been reading, which I love. She sits on our laps to read, and when we get to the end of the page, she'll reach with her left hand (only - never the right) and turn it. She really loves lift-the-flap books, and her absolute favorite is Dear Zoo. She gets very excited when we begin, and her excitement culminates on the page with the lion. So much so, in fact, that when you ask, "Elise, what does a lion say?" at any point, she'll roar. It's the best. We're still working on monkey and elephant noises, since those are some of the other animals in the book, but having the lion noise down pat is pretty great. 

I think that's all I have to report for the moment. See you next month for another report!

Six Months of Elise

At this exact moment a half a year ago, I was lying in a hospital bed with a 16-minute old baby in my arms. Upon her arrival sixteen minutes prior, she had been whisked over to the warmer to be evaluated by the neonatologist to make sure all her bells and whistles were in good order, and when she was declared perfectly healthy, they handed her to Chaz, who handed her to me. And after that turn of events, our little family's world has never been the same, and I wouldn't have it any other way. 

It's hard to believe that was only six months ago. Every single parent on the face of the earth says, "I can't remember what life was like before Baby arrived," and we all just chuckle and carry on, but as with almost every saying that is repeated 'round the globe, it's completely true. That IS why it's a common saying, after all. But that doesn't stop me from repeating it once again. I can't really remember what life was like before Elise arrived. Heck, what did we DO with all of our spare time? 

In other news, Elise is six months old and is a ball full of energy. 

She's gotten significantly better at holding herself in seated position once placed there, although she hasn't quite mastered getting there herself. She's trying on the regular though, so I suppose that will come in no time.

She rarely cries, but she has zero tolerance for being on her back and will flip herself over on to her stomach and get up on her hands and knees before you can say Jack Robinson. 

She's pretty proud of herself, too. 

She talks most of the time, and has expanded her vocabulary to "Babababababa," "Bwahbwahbwahbwah" (I promise that's different from babababa), "Mamamamama," "Dadadadada," and "Brrrbrrrbrrrbrrr." She still enjoys both squealing and growling, although more often than not those sounds include syllables as well. What excitement!

Speaking of excitement, when she finds something particularly thrilling, she'll make a funny sort of inhaling gasp/squeak, accompanied with curling up into a ball and enthusiastically clutching the shoulder of whoever is carrying her. This combination of actions is usually brought on by walking down the stairs after waking up for a nap, going outside, or whenever someone says something excitedly. 

She seems to be within days of figuring out how to crawl, as she is able to move her knees while on all fours, and often rocks back and forth trying to get herself to move forward. Once she figures out her hands need to move as well, she'll be off to the races.

And last but not least, she cut two teeth while we were in Washington for Thanksgiving, and she is suddenly back to (mostly) sleeping through the night. Insert praise hands here. 

Other fast facts to note:

• She took her first flight and handled it like a champ.
• She had her first Thanksgiving and ate no Thanksgiving food - still on a fully liquid (milk) diet!
• She's started sleeping in her own room at night, now that she's more consistent in not waking up. 
• She's working on moving up a clothes size, and as a result has a rather inflated closet since she fits in 3-6 month but also in 6-9 month outfits.

And we love her to pieces. 

Five Months of Elise

Somehow, another month has passed already and I'm back here to document. Usually I like to have a few posts between the month by month ones, but...here I am without other filler. Besides, a regular dose of Elise updates is all anyone ever wanted, right? Ha.

This month, Elise finally decided that rolling from her back to her stomach is her new favorite activity, and if you put her down on her back, she'll be on her stomach within the blink of an eye. Occasionally, typically in the morning when she has the most energy, she'll do a few barrel rolls and go from back to stomach, stomach to back, back to stomach, etc. until she's reached the opposite side of whatever surface she's lying on. Needless to say, it has become even more difficult to get a non-blurry photo of her while she plays, since all she wants to do is move around. 

She continues to expand her repertoire of sounds, from the bottom of her range with growls, and the very top of her range with extremely high pitched squeals. The growls are particularly endearing, while the squeals could be considered ear-splitting. Upon experiencing them during a 3-hour car trip, Chaz said, "I think it's time to invest in some ear plugs."

She's got a little more peach fuzz on top of her head, and it looks like she's going to be blond, at least for now. With two brunette parents, I think chances are good that she will one day join the club. 

She has just started to be able to sit up by herself if put in position, although it's pretty hit or miss whether she'll stay up or tip over on her side. I'm guessing by the time six months rolls around, she will be doing it all on her own. She's also showing some signs of getting ready to crawl, pushing herself backwards in order to get up on hands and knees. 

All the changes have been pretty exciting, except that she has gone back to waking up a few times a night rather than sleeping all the way through. Nevertheless, we think she's the greatest, even when we're getting a bit less rest.  

With everything that's changed this month, we're so excited to see what next month brings!

Four Months of Elise

Things have been a little more...distracted around here these days, seeing as I'm writing this a solid two weeks late. Elise is four months old! She's growing like a weed! She's learning new things! Per usual, we must document.

My photos weren't as good this month because she was wiggling all around, exploring the world around her. Or at least her own fingers. At the four month mark, she is able to consistently roll over from front to back, and occasionally roll from back to front. However, she still prefers to reserve this particular activity for the most special of times, namely when she doesn't want to sleep. As with last month, her most favorite activity while spending time lying on her stomach is to try to propel herself forward, so far to no avail. She is an absolute pro at rotating herself in a full circle when she has the room though, so it's only a matter of time.

She talks all the time while at home or in her car seat, but when we're out and about she would rather observe everything than say much. Her favorite sounds include "Ummmmm," "Mmmmm," "Maaaaaa," and if we're really lucky, "Mama." I'm 100% sure that she does not associate the word with me at all, but it's rather gratifying nonetheless.

Her four month checkup revealed that she has grown a full six inches since birth, and she's off the percentile charts for height. However, if there were a percentile chart for hair growth, that would be incremental at best, seeing as she still gets called Baldie every once in awhile by perfect strangers. Let it be known that she does indeed have hair, but it's very light and very short. And it is growing! Just very slowly. 

And last but not least, here's a smattering of non-month-specific photos from the last month that deserve to be published just because we think she's the sweetest. 

Is there anything better than a pajama-clad baby? I say no. 

Blurry, but her face is too good to not post.

She thinks standing is the coolest. Some balancing assistance is required.

We love you, little bean! 

Three Months of Elise

Today, Elise is three months old! Insert a paragraph here about how fast time is passing and oh-my-goodness-HOWWWW. But all of that has been said before both here and by every parent in the history of ever, so I'll spare you the redundancy. Just please note that all of it - every last jot and tittle that you've heard from everyone - is 100% true. 

Three-month Elise has recently discovered her vocal cords and has been putting them to good use, having full-on conversations with us on the daily. Fortunately, she has not decided to use her newly discovered skills in places slightly less familiar than home, which is good news for us during church. I suspect those days are coming to an end, however, and we'll have to adjust our church service strategies to accommodate. 

She has also become the Drool Queen and enjoys chomping on her hands, making a bit of a mess wherever she goes. Toys occasionally find their way into her mouth as well, but at least for now, she enjoys looking at them more than playing with them. Her favorite toy is a stuffed cow from a school I visited for work last year, probably due to the dramatic color contrast between the black and white spots on his body. 

While she hasn't yet mastered rolling over, she does manage to get from tummy to back with only a tiny bit of assistance, so the day is nigh! She loves tummy time and prefers to spend it attempting to move forward in a sort of crawl rather than trying to flip herself sideways. 

When it comes to routines, we've been following her cues, and within the last two weeks she's established an astonishingly consistent bedtime between 7:30 and 8:00. She spends the first part of the evening sleeping in her crib, and then we feed, change, and move her into our room when we go to bed. She will sometimes give us a full night's rest, but most nights she wakes up between 3:30 and 5:30 looking for food and a clean diaper. She usually goes right back to sleep, though, so we don't complain! 

She has about 1000 nicknames, ranging from the formal Miss Elise to the much less formal Bean, Nugget, Goober, Grumpkin (when fussing), Peanut, and the list goes on. We think she's the coolest, and with every new achieved milestone, I'm both celebrating her achievements and begging time to slow down. After all, a quarter of a year (already!) is nothing to sneeze at. 

We love you, baby girl! We're so blessed to be the ones who get to watch you grow.

2 Months of Elise

It's hard to believe that we've had a baby in the house for two full months now. Some days it seems like no time at all, and other days (honestly, most days) it feels like she's been here forever. It's hard to remember what life was like before she arrived! 

I meant to write down everything when she was one month, but I only got so far as taking a few pictures. Right around that time she hit a developmental leap (read: a week of fussing), we went on vacation, and she caught a cold. But she was still cute!

We made it back from vacation, her cold (plus conjunctivitis) went away thanks to some lovely Erythromycin ointment, and life carried on, and here we are at two months!

Elise, at two months of age, smiles a lot. She's happiest in the morning when she wakes up and after eating, and likes to talk, presumably telling me all about her dreams from the past night. We lucked out and she typically sleeps at least one six-hour stint every night, and occasionally sets records by going for 8.5 hours. This sleep schedule is a vast improvement from her first month, when she predictably woke up at 1:30, 4:30, and 6:30. I'm expecting that schedule to return around her fourth month, but we'll enjoy the longer stretches while they last.

While she hasn't quite rolled over yet, she's very, very close, getting frustrated when she can't twist herself in quite the right way get all the way over. Her favorite activity is practicing standing. She'll put weight on her legs, wave her arms like she's trying to do a crawl stroke in the air instead of a pool, and do what we've come to refer to as "standing face" - opening her eyes very wide and opening her mouth to match. We didn't get the greatest picture of it, but it has been documented nonetheless! 

She's a happy, content girl unless she's tired, hungry, or uncomfortable due to digestion, which was a little tough for her during her first month. This month has seen a vast improvement in that department though! 

She also loves hanging out in her wrap, and has taken to munching on the part of it that is in closest proximity to her mouth. Since her other most favorite pacifiers are a) nursing and b) sucking on my pinky, eating the wrap gives me a nice break! 

She's our favorite girl - since we only have one kid it's ok to say such things - and we're so glad that she's here with us. We love you, Elise! We can't wait to see how much you grow in your next month of life!

#momlife

This blog once was all about traveling, random experiences, and who knows what else. Food I found abroad? Organic house products? I guess both of those fall under the "random experiences" category. I clearly should have been a little more specific in my initial list of options.

Those posts are all fine and dandy, but life looks a tad bit different now and I'm home waaaaay more often than I will be abroad these days, so I suppose the content is going to be different. Now that I have a kid I guess that makes me a legitimate mommy blogger and thus my list of daily accomplishments has changed significantly. For example, formerly you might have found something here like, "I made it through a 7-hour flight without having to use an airplane bathroom!" (Side note: if I was listing that as an accomplishment, I was clearly not pregnant.) Now, my small feat of the day might be something like, "I made it through the last 12 hours without getting spit up, poop, or other sundry body fluids on my shirt!" Lofty goals, I tell you!

So I guess you could say life is a little slower at the moment. I spend a lot of time doing this:

I'm very aware that if there's another baby in our future, chasing after a toddler would seriously limit my human mattress capabilities, so I'm trying to soak up the opportunity now and fight against my constant urge to get up and do something productive, creative, or otherwise useful with my time. 

I haven't quite figured out that balance. I'm looking forward to the days of having an older, more interactive child so that we can do things together, but I'm simultaneously wishing time would slow down so my tiny cuddly baby doesn't outgrow her propensity to nuzzle against my shoulder while she falls asleep. At the same time, I don't think it's too shameful to admit that I do sometimes miss the ease with which I could pack up and go in a minute if need be, and the adult-only interaction that came with life in an office. Don't get me wrong - I wouldn't trade my current status for the world, this job is infinitely more worthwhile, and the benefits far outweigh the small inconveniences. But as time goes on, I'm sure the days will become more routine and we'll all feel more settled.

In the meantime, here's another photo of my favorite girl. And also my leg.

Please note that I was indeed wearing shorts.

And that's not to say that every day is without adventure. In two weeks, Chaz, Elise, and I are all packing up and hauling ourselves to NYC for a couple days. I'm sure you'll be absolutely dying to hear all about it, so get yourselves all good and ready for that enthralling tale. 

Oh, and today's small accomplishment? Elise napped in her crib! Score!

Elise Lorraine: An Arrival Tale

Let me just start by saying right off the bat that I know birth stories aren't everyone's cup of tea, so feel free to skip this one if you're less than enthused about the topic! However, I'll spare the goriest details, since...the internet doesn't really need those anyway. Continuing with the disclaimers, I apologize about the length. This post is more for my own memory-keeping than anything else, so it's pretty much a small novel. 

I finished working on Friday, May 26th. I had honestly been hoping that the little one would make her appearance ON the 26th, since Chaz and I got engaged on October 26th and married on July 26th, but no luck - I finished working, packed up the remainder of the things left in my office, and Chaz helped me carry it all down to my car. At 39+3 weeks, I was DONE being pregnant. Pregnancy, overall, treated me extremely well - no morning sickness, no cravings, no excessive weight gain - until the last two weeks. Between swelling of all my extremities and some unpleasant side effects that caused severe discomfort, I was really, really hoping to go into labor over the long weekend. Plus, it was a long weekend! Aside from the fact that my brother had declared that May 28th was an off-limits date since it was his birthday, the timing couldn't have been better.

I'd been having consistent Braxton Hicks contractions for most of the day on both Thursday and Friday, to the point where they were timeable. But by the time the evening rolled around, they'd taper off, and I'd go to bed hoping that I'd get a full night's rest and go into real labor bright and early the following morning. 

I woke up on Saturday (May 27th) and felt the same - extraordinary discomfort due to my "side effects," with mild contractions about 20 minutes apart. Every few hours I'd get excited because they'd increase to about 15 minutes apart and start feeling mildly painful, but they'd space out again shortly thereafter. We proceeded with our regular Saturday routine. Chaz went to the dump, we cleaned the house, and then we got ready for the day. Around lunchtime, we decided to go on an excursion to Wahlburgers for lunch. While the burger was delicious, it was probably the most uncomfortable meal of my entire life. I could barely sit on the hard chair, and my "Braxton Hicks" contractions, though still not more frequent than 15 apart, were decidedly uncomfortable. We got back in the car, headed home, and spent a quiet afternoon around the house. 

The evening rolled around and we grilled pork chops for dinner and sat down to watch a show. I noticed the contractions were getting closer together, clocking in at 10 to 12 minutes apart, but remained convinced they'd go away as soon as I went to bed. But as soon as we got tucked in around 10:00, I realized sleep wasn't in the cards for me. I told Chaz to get some rest, but that I was going to go downstairs and manage them there "until they went away." 

I went to our guest bedroom and dozed there between contractions, which were getting steadily more painful and decidedly closer together. I stayed down there until 1:00, at which point they jumped from every 6 - 7 minutes to every 4. I finally convinced myself that they weren't stopping like I expected, so I gave the birth center a call, and to my surprise - I'm still not sure why I found this surprising - they told me to come in. 

Since our guest bedroom is downstairs and Chaz was sleeping upstairs, I texted him at first to see if I could avoid climbing the steps. No luck. I waited another five minutes, breathed my way through another contraction, and then went to wake him up. "Is it time to go?" he said. I confirmed, and I put in earrings (again...not sure why I felt that was necessary) while he got his bag ready and put everything in the car. 

We arrived at the hospital 15 minutes later and they sent us to L&D triage, where they put me on the monitors for 20 minutes to make sure everything was consistent. After the nurse told me that the contractions weren't the "strong, middle-of-labor contractions" variety characteristic of active labor, I convinced myself they were going to send me home. But! The doctor came to check me, and upon finding that I had made some progress, he informed me I could stay and we'd be having a baby. They had me sign a bunch of forms, took my blood (though I tried to talk them out of that...), and got me into a delivery room by 3:00am.

The hours between 3:00 and 6:00 are a bit of a blur. I spent most of the time sitting on a yoga ball beside the bed with my head and arms draped over a stack of three pillows so I could rest between contractions. The nurse came in to check on me every so often, but by the time 6:00 rolled around, I knew something needed to change since I felt like I wasn't going to be able to handle the pain for much longer. The nurse offered me a couple of non-epidural drug options that I wasn't thrilled about - I've never liked the idea of not being fully mentally present for anything, let alone delivering a baby - but then she suggested that I get into the tub. It sounded perfect, so off she went to fill it up. 20 minutes later, I was sinking into a nice warm bath, which helped immensely. Contractions were still coming regularly, but they were easier to manage when surrounded by what essentially felt like a giant heating pad. Chaz was even able to sleep a bit in a chair nearby! 

I hung out in the tub for 7:30. The contractions picked up in intensity again, and I wasn't getting much of a break between them anymore. And by then...I was done with it. I asked for an epidural, and died a little inside when they told me the entire process would take about 20 minutes from start to finish. Fortunately, they said they could do the IV while I was still in the tub, so at least I could distract myself with being surrounded by warm water while they stuck me with needles. Have I mentioned how much I hate needles? I HATE NEEDLES. Prior to labor, I thought my hatred of needles would be enough to prevent me from wanting an epidural. Ha. No. After 10 hours of labor, my mental state was something akin to "Stick me with all the needles! Help!"

And so I hobbled back to the delivery room from the tub room at the speed of an overheated, dehydrated tortoise with an IV pole, where the anesthesiologist arrived with a tray of giant needles that I steadfastly turned my gaze away from. Chaz apparently had a nice view though, and he tactfully said nothing about the size of the needles until several hours later. 

They had to do the epidural twice. The first time I could still feel the insertion of the tubing used to administer the drug and it HURT, so they pulled everything out, waited through another contraction, stuck me with the numbing needle a second time, and then did the tubing again. The second time I could still feel a little, but it didn't hurt anymore. Shortly thereafter, my legs started tingling and the contraction pain was significantly diminished, and I sent two friends a text saying, "I've concluded epidurals are God's most perfect gift to women." It was glorious and though after another 10 minutes I couldn't feel the lower half of my body at all, it was so nice to have a bit of a break.

The break was a bit short-lived, however, because about 10 minutes after that, I noticed my arms were tingling as well. When I asked about it, the nurse said she thought it was the blood pressure cuff, since it was taking measurements every two minutes. But the next thing I knew, the nurse was handing me an oxygen mask and paging the doctor. This part is all very hazy to me, but apparently my blood pressure had dropped like crazy, as had the baby's heart rate (normally around 150, down to 80 beats per minute). The flipped me every which way to try to get her heart rate to stabilize, assuming that the cord was wrapped around her neck. I heard the anesthesiologist say, "Ok, give her ephedrine," but around the same time they realized that I wasn't able to support the upper half of my body at all to assist in positioning myself to fix the baby heart rate issue. The doctor was there as well and they realized that the problem was the epidural, not the cord. The epidural drug had gone both down (which is what it was supposed to do) and up (which is not what it's supposed to do), so I had no feeling at all from my neck to my toes! 

Eventually, they got me into a position where the baby's heart rate was stable, but they also broke my water and stuck a fetal monitor on the baby's head so they could get more accurate information about her status. They turned the epidural completely off, and once I was looking a little less...zombie-like, I guess...they left us to our own devices until the effects wore off. Fortunately, my body kept on laboring during the whole thing, so things were still progressing.

About two hours later, I could feel my arms again, although everything below my navel was still numb. No complaints - I wasn't really interested in feeling much after that, so I was a happy camper. They gave me a popsicle and I took a selfie that turned out to be a very accurate portrayal of my state of affairs:

Tasty popsicle, messy hair, tired red eyes, and SUPER BLURRY because I'd been shaking nonstop probably since 3am. Labor + adrenaline = the shakes, I suppose. 

And so we waited. It was a pleasant couple of hours once I'd recovered enough to talk. Around 10:30 I made a dumb joke that if we had the baby in the next 20 minutes, we could still make it to church on time. Around 11:15, they checked me again and said it was time to push. The doctor recommended that we try every other contraction, since her heart rate was still on the unsteady side and we didn't want to rock the boat too hard. So for the next 1.5 hours, that's what we did. I was starting to feel contractions again now that the epidural's effects had mostly dissipated, but epidurals have a magical re-up button and after a bit they let me hit it since the renewed pain was distracting me from pushing. 

I knew things were getting close when people started assembling and the doctor suited himself up. In addition to the doctor, there were at least three extra nurses (aside from the one - Katy! - who'd been with us the whole time) and the neonatologist. When they called in the neonatologist I knew they weren't going to put the baby on me right away, and I was fine with that because it meant they were going to make sure she was in good shape right away. 

I guess she wasn't moving out quite as fast as her health required, because the doctor said that it was time for the vacuum. Another side note: the term "vacuum" isn't really accurate. It's really more like a suction cup. With that, they stuck it on her head, gave me a small surgical modification, and vacuumed while I pushed. And there she was! It was 12:58 pm on May 28th, and we named her Elise. We definitely missed church.

They took her over to the warmer right away and checked her all over. She screamed immediately, so we knew her lungs were doing just fine. She was pink and she had ten fingers and ten toes, weighed 7 lbs 14 oz and was 20.5 inches long, and was perfect. Then they handed her to us and we loved her.

We spent the next two days in the hospital getting to know her, recovering, taking a thousand pictures, seeing visitors, sleeping a very little, and eating some surprisingly good hospital food. 

And then we took her home and started figuring out how to be parents. It's an adventure! 

And we love it.

New Year, New Post, New...Woodstock!

It looks like 2016 turned out to be the Year Without a Blog, because my last post was back in September! But...there's a good reason for that, because four days after my last post, we realized that the next weeks/months/years were going to look a little different than everything preceding them.

And so before, on, or sometime after May 31, there will be a new, very small Woodstock in the house, and we couldn't be more excited.

I've been really lucky to have a very easy pregnancy so far - no morning sickness, and apart from a near-constant headache, no other major side effects. Our one complication earned us a super fun evening/early morning in the ER at 9.5 weeks, but even that came with the unexpected blessing of getting to see our baby for the first time - wriggling around and (presumably) happy, safe and sound.

I had taken a pregnancy test early one Saturday morning before Chaz had woken up, expecting a negative result. To my surprise, it was positive, and so like the average rational person, I decided I immediately needed to go to Target - the logical response to a positive pregnancy test. I traded my pajamas for a pair of jeans, told a still-sleeping Chaz I needed to run an errand, and ran out the door. I arrived about 10 minutes before Target opened...so I sat in the parking lot and checked the test a few times over again to make sure that I wasn't imagining an extra line (again, bringing it with me was the obvious, ultra-logical choice). Once the doors opened, I hurried inside, picked up some juice, another few pregnancy tests, a small gift bag, and a pack of onesies. Upon checkout, the cashier said, "Do you need a gift receipt?" Since I responded to the negative, I suppose she was the very first person to suspect anything...

When I got home, I stuffed the bag with some tissue paper, the test, and a onesie, and waited for Chaz to come downstairs. He was awake by that point, so when he came down he saw the gift bag on the table, and much excitement abounded henceforth.

And as of this past Friday, we know it's a girl! Hooray! We can't wait to meet her.