July 16, 2008

Pure.

There are two beings in my life with pure hearts: Josie and Parker. First, Josie.

Josie has no agenda other than getting her needs met. She doesn't lie about it, she doesn't even *know* what manipulation is. She needs food, preferably of the boob variety. She needs to be kept clean. She needs an enormous amount of cuddling. We provide these things for her and she is happy. Very happy. Sometimes, she's pissed. And that brings me to how awesome she is: She can be SO FUCKING PISSED. She can scream in the car for like 3 minutes and M will swear it was 30. She can be so angry while you're rocking her that you start to sweat. She has a very delicate little cry until it turns evil. It's like she's going to start convulsing. Then you do the right thing: feed her, burp her, make her gas go away: soothe her in some way and in an instant she's ok. There's no grudge. One second the world is going to end and the next: you're awesome. She's not mad that it took you an hour to make it better. She's just happy you did. No hard feelings, Mom! You tried, Dad, and that's what counts!

I don't know any grownups like that.

The next is Parker. He's such a trooper. He and Josie got off to a bad start. He was confused and scared about this smelly loud creature that is now in our bed while he's on the floor. M brings him on walks almost daily and that helps, but this week M is not here and I'm alone with Josie and Parker and my milk supply is kicking my ass (feeding fine, pumping is not happening) and I just can't. But he's cool. He needs food, he needs to play a bit and to sleep. That's a pure heart. He's also cool with hanging in Josie's room while we play on the floor. He's totally ok with it.

I don't know any people like that.

We're all learning how to do this. Josie is 10 weeks tomorrow. I can't believe how fast this is going. And for the first time in Blog History, I'm going to post a picture of myself. M took it a few weeks back, and I hope it is sufficient to those who have asked via email to see pics. I saw a picture of me at my wedding yesterday and I was sort of grossed out. I'm down 30 lbs. since then, and it's a HUGE difference in those pictures. Anyway, here is a pic of me and the girl:

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June 30, 2008

I feel like...a Republican.

Not really. I have a nanny now, though, which screams yuppie to me. I went to the mall with her and the baby today and while I was in Neiman Marcus (seriously), people completely knew she was my nanny. People shop with their nannies. She took care of the baby while I tried things on. Fucked up.

Why was I shopping with the nanny? Because I go back to work tomorrow. And I need new clothes. Since giving birth, I am 24 lbs UNDER my pre-pregnancy weight. That's right folks. I am 35 lbs. lighter than I was at my wedding. I went jeans shopping the other day and fit into the ones I saw and liked. It's fucking amazing. I am truly happy about this anomaly, but it does mean that none of my clothes fit. But you know what? I'm ok with that. I like being 2 sizes smaller. Hello stupid denim prices!

Things are going great. Josie is like nothing I expected. She is just the most spectacular being that has ever lived. I am not biased. It's true.

And the cool thing is, she'll only be alive for like 8 months of the worst administration ever. She will start her early years in a country headed by a black man. How cool is that? And one of my friends is marrying his partner this summer! What an absolutely fantastic time to be born. Yay her.

Here's some baby-glory for you. I will update again soon!

June 08, 2008

Happy 1 Month to You!

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May 28, 2008

Birth and Rebirth

The story of the birth, unedited. Some things may get icky, and this is long, but I wanted to capture it. Here is how it went.

Monday, May 5th: 2 days past my due date, but my midwife was concerned about Josie’s size coupled with my desire to have a natural labor and delivery. She checked me and I was still, 3 weeks later, only 1 cm dilated. She had me come back later that day for a dose of Prostin, which helps dilation.

Wednesday, May 7th: 4 days past due.

1pm - Went for second dose of Prostin. It’s given in labor & delivery so they can monitor you and the baby for any contractions. After I got the dose, they said “Go walk for an hour. FAST.” Off we went, hauling ass around the hospital with me in just a gown looking like a lunatic.

3pm – Standing in front of the popcorn cart, I had my first real contraction. I turned to M and said, with tears in my eyes, “Whoa. That was an eye opener.” I got hooked back up to the monitors and my midwife came in to strip my membranes (look it up). She said for me to go home and eat dinner, call my doula and she’d see me likely that evening or the following morning for delivery.

11:30pm – I was having contractions all night, but nothing really timeable. I took a bath, a shower, walked. Nothing really got them to come faster. Finally M and I got into bed and tried to get some sleep. That’s when it happened. I had a contraction that changed everything: my water broke.

11:30 – 2:30am – I knew it would happen in the middle of the night. That’s how it happens. M was helping me through the extremely painful and mind numbing contractions for hours. I said “Fuck this. Fuck the doula, let’s not even call her. Get me to the hospital and get me the fucking epidural.” Thankfully, he called the doula then and said “Layla’s not digging the pain so much.” She came over then.

3:00am – 4:30am – More laboring at home. The pain was unreal at this point, but my doula was helping me through with massage and M was holding my hand and rubbing my back. At about 4am I felt like I wanted to start pushing. The pain was so strong at this point that I threw up. I said “Now. We need to go to the hospital now.” On to the hospital…

4:30am – 8:45am – When I got to the hospital my midwife checked me and I was only 4cm. Not happy. In an hour or so, I got to 7cms. Better. But then I stopped. No more progress. I was walking through the contractions, hoping to progress more. I was so tired at this point, but they were so strong I couldn’t rest. I literally would start shaking when I felt it coming because it was so bad. At about 8am my midwife came in and said, “We need to talk. You aren’t progressing at all. You’re stalled out and we need to do something. I’d like to give you Pitocin.” Now, I had said from the get-go I didn’t want Pitocin because it makes contractions unbearable and would lead to an epidural. At this point, I had been in labor naturally for 9 hours. I said, “Do it. Get me the Pitocin.” I told M that I thought I needed the epidural. My doula wanted me to think about it. I did. For 2 seconds. I said, “I think 9 hours of unmedicated labor makes me an expert. I’m done being empowered. Get me the fucking epi.” And they did.

8:45am – 3:53pm – I was under the impression that I’d get it and have a baby in a few hours. Oh, I was wrong. I continued to stall at 7cm for over 6 hours. They upped the Pitocin a few times and finally at about 2pm I got to a 10cm dilation. However, the baby was not moving into the birth canal. My midwife let me labor for a while longer to see if I could move her at all. If I couldn’t, I was getting a c-section. The labor & delivery nurse said “Let’s see if you push through a contraction if she moves at all.” No problem. I pushed with everything I had. “Holy shit! Let’s get the midwife in here.” Apparently I push well. We started “official pushes” at 3:30pm.

M watched the whole thing. He stayed at my side while I lied on my right side with my doula holding one leg and my midwife holding the other. I pushed for 20 minutes when my midwife said “Ok, I want to prepare you for something: the cord is wrapped around her neck. I’m going to tell you *exactly* when to push, and when to stop. You have to listen to me carefully, I may yell at you. When she gets far enough out, I’m going to try to loop the cord around her neck. If I can’t, I’m going to cut it. Ok?” Ok. At this point I should have freaked out. For some reason – maybe my trust in my midwife – I didn’t. I was pushing like she said. At one point she said, “Ready? I want you to push and visualize her moving slowly: One centimeter. One centimeter. One centimeter.” And I literally was pushing her out that slowly. I felt it.

As the head emerged, the midwife said, “Here we go,” and unlooped the cord from her neck. Then she said “Oh my god,” and unlooped a second time. Then she said “No way!” and unlooped the cord a third time. Three times the cord was wrapped around her neck. I found out a bit later that we were rushed because her heart rate was decelerating.

And just like that, out she came. Crying and angry. But healthy and hearty. They put her on me, all covered in goo, and I cuddled her right away, with the (extremely long) cord still attached. Then M cut the cord and I nursed her. Then they told M to help get her weighed and measured and they delivered my placenta. Well, not so much delivered, but had to go in after it. I was basically fisted by my midwife. She said “Thank god you got the epidural because that would have REALLY hurt.”

8lbs 5oz, 21 ¼” long, born at 3:53pm on May 8th, our little baby Josie joined us. About 25 hours after that first contraction, 16 hours after my water broke, and a 2nd degree tear. It was a challenge, and full of drama, but did you expect anything else?

She’s now over 9lbs after losing some after the birth, and is 22” long. She’s amazing. Seriously, this has been the most cliché inspiring life-changing event. I am so in love with 9lbs of fury, it’s just awesome. I spend my days kissing her lips, her fat cheeks, her thighs. I watch M get tears welling up in his eyes just looking at this amazing miracle. We sit there and argue her cutest points. We are frustrated and sleep-deprived and so utterly happy. It’s just beautiful. Nothing else matters. Nothing. As she was born, I was reborn.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you…
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April 28, 2008

Passing the time

I'm on maternity leave. Well, mostly. I'm still doing some work, because I'm bored to tears. Last week I was so bored that I had all of my carpets cleaned. I had our car seats (my car and M's) inspected by a car seat consultant. I went to Neiman's and bought myself a new purse. WTF? It's really cute.

Anyway, you know I love to cook. Love it. But since getting pregnant, I haven't really had the desire to cook nor have I been a cravings sort of preggo. It's actually quite disappointing to me, and to a great extent, to M. I'm quite happy to have a half of a grapefruit, an english muffin and a few sticks of celery for dinner. M isn't. So in his protest, he's happily taken on the gourmet role in our kitchen. We used to cook together, but he's been much better on his own. Occasionally I'll chop veggies, but for the most part I lie on the couch and watch him. He's good.

A few weeks back we did a pan seared snapper on a bed of juilanned vegetables with a lemon butter sauce and herbed rice. I helped with that one. It was the best fish I've ever had. But then about 2 weeks ago M came home from New Orleans (his home away from home and where he would stash his other family were he to have one. he's really there a lot) with a new recipe: Creole Shrimp. I like shrimp. I like Creole. The two together are sublime. Over rice, you can't go wrong. I'm spoiled now living in the south: I get some damn good Cajun and Creole.

I present to you...M's Creole Shrimp!

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Celery, onions, peppers (The Trinity: a Creole/Cajun version of a Mirepoix), tomatoes, love, shrimp, basil, cayenne, etc., it's all there. We're in love with this new dish. I like not cooking.

Update on the bambino: I just passed my first due date. The due date moved to May 3rd from April 27th early on because I was measuring pretty small. Now I'm not. I'd say we'll be greeting our baby girl within the next week.