2 months!

It's totally unlikely that I will be able to write this post the way it is in my head when I'm laying in bed awake on my side with a Emmett latched on and curled up beside me. It's unlikely because that seems to be the only time he will stay in one place doing one thing for any length of time which allows my brain to formulate a few thoughts that accually string together.



Right now he's sleeping on my bed with the radio playing in between stations and turned up loud! Yup all static all the time seems to be his preference. We tried oldies, classic rock, jazz and classical but none of them do the trick quite like static. It's an acquired taste. It's actually kind of amazing. When we turn it on the crying stops, the movement stops and the eyes close and stay closed. But turn it down just a bit and magically the eyes pop back open.



Yesterday we went to the Doc for his 2 month visit. Weighing in at 13lbs 14oz., he's a big boy. I think that at the very least, as a mom, I can say I have been doing one thing right. Because at this point when we're hoping for him to grow and develop, do new things, show signs that he's aware of his hands or can recognize our faces, something like gaining weight seem like a big accomplishment.



He's very happy to lay on his back and just look around. He'll do that for long periods of time. Sometimes, when I've decided he's done that for long enough, I pick him up and he cries like maybe he was really just getting into something, a deep thought perhaps?
It is fairly entertaining to watch this though. He coos and ahhhs, the sounds kind of burst out of him.



There's a zebra mobile above his crib. Sometimes Emmett will fix his eyes on one and watch it spin and gently twist from the open window breezes. The movement seems to please him and he'll let out a loud AAAHHH and kick his legs. This is one of my favorite things to watch.

Sometimes we just sit and have little vowel sound conversations. "Ahhh" " oooh" " caaa" "ooouu"
As more days pass more things seem to come into his world. Yet at the same time, in many ways, he is just as much a mystery to us as when we brought him home. There are still sleepless nights or near to it. Mostly for me. Richard seems to be getting a few more full nights of sleep and I have yet to take pleasure in such delights. But there have been longer sleeps, good naps and happy days when everyone is well fed and we all seem to be on the same page.
Yesterday was not one of those days. After the doc there was a short nap in the car and then 6 straight hours of crying or near crying with a few 5 minute naps thrown in just to tease mommy.
If I owned a gun yesterday, I would have shot the dog. It seemed like one of those bad commercials when the mom is being pulled in all directions and he head blows off or something cartoony like that. But today, today so far, is better and that's the thing, isn't it? You never know how good the next day is going to be but there's always a chance it will be really good. This is our (my) mantra right now. I even thought about having another one...but then I thought again.

6 Weeks

Sometimes I lay in bed and wonder about how I'm going to remember these weeks. I wonder how I'm going to record them in my head. I try to write blog posts about crying and diapers. But then there's crying and diapers and my existence returns to the present, to the minute, to the second. That is what Emmett has given me, a life in the present.

Over the last 6 weeks Richard and I have taken that rocky road to "oh I know what that cry means." It seems that everyone who's ever had a child is fully aware of this road. They know all the pot holes and rest areas. I find myself wishing that I could just go around hugging everyone who came to our aide. How on earth did the fridge stay full and where did all these onsies come from? I never purchased a baby monitor but we have one.

This morning, by morning I mean 4 a.m., just as the sky was getting light, I remembered to appreciate the privilege of it all. In fact, I remember that a lot. Ok there may have been more than 5 melt-downs so far but there's something about seeing the beginning of the day that reminds me that this club doesn't welcome everyone. And now that the first Mother's Day has come and gone, I'm not struck by the overwhelming love and appreciation I feel from my son, I'm struck by the overwhelming love and appreciation I have for him.

Two weeks is a lifetime

Two weeks ago today I was pushing my newborn son in a hospital bassinet down the hallway to the elevators which would take us to the NICU where he would spend the next 10 days. It's a memory that Richard has had to recreate for me because I have no recollection of it. One day I looked over and asked, how did we get here? I couldn't remember coming into the room or how we even got there from our room one floor down. But that's not the beginning or end of the story it's the middle.

I went into labor after celebrating a one year old. I had a feeling that something was going to happen that day. It could have been shear determination that brought my labor on since I was already past my due date and looking down the barrel of stress tests and possible 'intervention'. Intervention wasn't in my play book. We had a midwife, we read books, took classes and planned for a totally natural birth - it's the way our bodies are meant to work so I was going to let my body do the job. So when the contractions changed from 'tightening' to definite pain. I took it on.
Here we go, this is it. I stayed active and distracted myself with house work. As the night went on our midwife Sara suggested that we head in to the hospital just to see how the baby was doing. It was about 10 p.m. now and I had been laboring for about 6 hours. We arrived at the hospital ER, I was offered at wheelchair to labor and delivery but I insisted on walking. I had these little facts in my head - " walking and staying active can reduce your amount of labor by 30%". The monitors showed that the baby was doing just fine, I was only about 2cm dilated, we opted to go home. Through the night I contracted and rested, contracted and rested. my mind was clear my body relaxed my partner amazing. In the morning Sara called to see how things were going. 7 minutes apart and very regular. She advised us to come back to the hospital and I was ready to find out how well I had done over night. We arrived to find out that I had done nothing except experience pain. The baby was not engaged and I was not dilating.



Here is where things get fuzzy for me. I have written almost 20 pages in my journal about the next 24 hours and maybe one day I'll be able to share that here. I'm sure it's not the hardest birth story out there but for me it was and probably always will be the hardest thing I have ever and will ever do. So, I'm going to skip to the end and just tell you that were it not for the love of my husband, my mother and Sara I would probably be in a psych ward somewhere trying to work this out.

The day turned into night and the night into day. The plan, out the window. The baby and I were both beyond exhausted and begging for mercy. There was Meconium, fevers, infections, IVs, epidurals, oxygen, catheters, internal fetal monitors, blood pressure cuffs designed by sadomasochists, prepping for c-section, forceps and an episiotomy - oh and lots and lots of pain, the one thing I did plan for.

Miraculously, I did finally dilate fully and Sara told me to push. I must have looked like the guest of honor at a surprise party when she said that. Really? I was actually going to push? So I pushed and pushed - I remember a few people saying that pushing was their favorite part. I had high hopes for this pushing, hell I was actually going to take an active role in this birth again. I pushed but my body was empty, having been on track just a few hours ago for a c-section I had no fuel in my body. The juice I was allowed to consume came up almost as quickly as it went down. I stared intensely into Sara's eyes looking for optimism, she never broke my stare and just kept me going. Richard and my mom cheered with every push with looks of amazement. I pushed the baby down what felt like millimeters and it probably was. My brain and my body were working against me now. I accused everyone of lying to me. I gobbled ice and almost ripped out all my IVs discarding my hospital gown in fit. The MD was summoned and he determined that I needed to get the baby down further in order for him to be able to use the forceps. Ask me a month ago what I thought about forceps and I would have said something along the lines of barbaric. But it was my only hope at this point. I couldn't push anymore, I just couldn't do it. My only choice was to push so I pushed some more, I pushed just enough. The MD got the forceps in, I pushed again and nothing happened, I pushed a second time and in a split second he had his scissors out, cut me and delivered the baby in one fluid motion.

I saw the head and then the body. It was a boy!







Sara stayed with me but the rest of the room shifted to the baby. Only then did I notice that there was about 15 people in the room. Emmett was crying, I was straining to get a look at him but there were people in the way, Sara was stitching me up. Soon after Emmett was placed on my chest. He looked perfect and pink and warm. We snuggled like that for while. The room emptied.
All seemed to be good again. Calm had entered my shaking body and we made our way to the postpartum room. I was finally POSTPARTUM!

Richard fell fast asleep and I laid in bed starring at Emmett. The Sun was coming up again. We had nurse after nurse after nurse in our room. Sometimes for me sometimes for Emmett. One of the first visitors was his pediatrician. She checked him out and ordered some tests. Sara came by later that morning. While we were chatting the pediatrician called to say that Emmett's blood work showed signs of infection. He was going to the NICU, they were coming to get him right now.

Our time with Emmett in the NICU wasn't all bad and one certainly does gain a little of not a lot of appreciation and perspective being the parents of a full term baby who just had a little infection. But it was also hard. Richard and I stuck together, made what I think was the best of it. We cried every night we had to leave without him and rushed to greet him every morning.



We learned how to take his temp, change his diaper, feed and bathe him. In a way I guess it was like a mini newborn boot camp. The day we took him home I was so excited my heart was beating hard, I just couldn't wait to get him out of there.




It's almost been a week now since we've had Emmett home with us. Richard is back to work. Life seems to be finding its rhythm. Emmett has gained over a pound since he was born.
It was a rocky start but we did it. Last year at this time I was giving in to infertility and today I write this with my son sleeping peacefully beside me.



One thing I've learned from this is that you can't ever give up and you can't do it alone.



I'm sure this isn't the best version of the story as my brain keeps adding details and sleep isn't exactly in abundance right now. It's the best I can do right now and I hope you enjoy reading it.

Happy Birthday Rome!

One year ago today...


and now - a big girl!


it's a good weekend for a birthday, don't you agree?

No late fees - no eviction notices

Since today is technically my 'due date' I thought I should post something. Occasionally I think of things that I'd like to write about on my blog but today isn't one of those days. I don't really feel like I have that much to write about. I have been going about my life, wrapping things up at my job, getting a hair cut, treating myself to a little luxury in pedicure form



and well, generally just waiting.


Chester and I waiting

Pregnancy books and email updates from baby sites all seem a little bothersome somehow. I feel like I'm saturated with facts, facts that may or may not be true for me. I am ready to just go with the flow and trust in my support and the baby and myself. I am listening closely to my body and to the baby, that seems to me all that matters.

Having spent the month of February essentially laid up with sickness and sore ribs that made me feel paralyzed, this month has been wonderfully mobile. Hard to believe that the last month of pregnancy would be the most comfortable for me. The baby dances, wiggles and kicks me all day and all night, bathroom breaks are pretty much every 20 minutes and food really doesn't have anywhere to go anymore. But life seems easier.
Anyway, I find myself here on my due date, half wishing the baby would come right now and half wishing for a more days just to feel sort of normal before it all changes again.

Today's scheduled distractions are dog walking and sewing. I am washing some wonderful new fabric from The Top Stitch where I also just purchased this pattern for a cute little owl quilt. I think this will be a good project for scraps.

Belated St. Patrick's

I know it's a day late but this made me laugh so hard I had to share it with ye Lads and Lassies. Anyway, it's always the right time for Kermit and The Muppets!

Hello week 39!

I think Garfield says it all for this week...


Garfield