Laundry and Children

Grandpa's Boy

Those who think that Jack looks like my dad, I think you are on to something.

Many thanks to my Uncle Dave for sending me these pictures.

We Should Have Called Him Banana

As anyone who spoke to Rachel in the last weeks of my pregnancy knows, she thought we should have named Jack Banana.  In the last few days, she changed her mind and thought he should be called strawberry.  Based on the last week, the girl might have been on to something, because our baby went from pink to yellow to red.

I can not pretend to have any idea what day was which when I was in the hospital, but very early on Jack was diagnosed with elevated levels of Billirubin which were making him yellow with jaundice.  The doctor told me not to worry, but I worried.  It was a little like when doctors tell you that you will feel some pressure as they remove one of your organs. It’s called pain because it hurts, and I will worry because I am a mother. They put Jack under the Billi Lights, which my father accurately described as looking an awful lot like bug lights.  So, instead of bonding with my newborn in the privacy of my room, every three hours I would schlep out of bed, shuffle down the two hallways to the nursery, and feed Jack.  First breast milk, then formula.  We had to get as much food in to the little guy as he would take so that he would poop as much as possible, because that is how they get rid of the Billirubin.  There were a few times when Jack apparently got a little fussy and they fed him before I got there.  My heart has never felt so broken as those times when I didn't get to have my brief 30-minute visits with my son.  For three days, I lived my life in three-hour increments.

At first they thought it would just take 24 hours for Jack's levels to come down.  Then another 24 hours was recommended.  At one point there was talk of keeping Jack in the hospital while I went home.  Well, I can assure you, they may have discharged me, but I was not going home without my baby.  As I thought up ways to stay in the hospital, the nurse knocked on my door.  Of course, I was in the loo and announced that I would be right out.  She asked if I wanted to see my baby, because he was right there with her.  Jack would be going home with us after all.  I was so happy I just wept.

 

 

 

 

After pictures with the kids, we loaded everyone in the car and headed home.  Rachel and Nicholas were ready to have Mama back, but I didn't move as fast as I did when I left and I was prone to break out in tears over nothing at all.  My mother -in-law told us that she would take the kids for yet one more night so that Marty and I could adjust to our new nocturnal schedule.  I will be forever grateful to Pam for that night, because it was hard enough with just one kid.  Diapers and breastfeeding replaced sleep, but we got through it. We even got out the door at a reasonable time for Jack’s follow-up Billirubin test.

 

After running a few errands, we got a call from the hospital that Jack’s levels had jumped back up rather dramatically and we needed to call our pediatrician to see if she wanted us to readmit him to the hospital. Our doctor told us to start supplementing his feedings with formula and expose him to sunlight. The UV rays would help to break up the Billirubin the baby’s fat. So we did just that. However, we live in the woods, so staying in the sun is a matter of hopscotching from one patch of sun to another. Great grandparents came and helped in the sun chase while Pam made us Four Cheese Spaghetti.

 

 

The next day we had Jack’s levels tested again. This time I waited at the hospital for the results. When the lab supervisor came out to tell me the results, I felt like a defendant trying to read a returning jury. Jack’s levels were down. She had called our pediatrician who recommended continuing the sun therapy and the supplemental feedings. So at less than a week old, Jack became a sun worshiper, laying out in nothing but his diaper.

 

 

 

 

When we had his levels checked again the next day, the Billirubin had dropped quite significantly. Jack was out of the woods. His color is now pink instead of yellow. Our banana had become a strawberry getting quite pink from his day in the sun. Now, even the whites of his eyes are white and not yellow.

Jack’s condition was not without danger, but it is nothing compared with what some babies go through. I cannot even imagine what it must be like for parents whose children become gravely ill. Those parents will forever be in my prayers.

Deliveries, Doctors and Diapers

Like I said in an earlier post, children will do what they want when they want to do it.  So even though we went to the hospital before the sun rose on August 30th, Jack decided to wait until the 31st to make his grand entrance.  But I am getting ahead of myself.

Even with all of the excitement and anticipation, Marty and I did manage to get some sleep on Monday night.  However, once that alarm sounded, I was up and at 'em like a boot camp recruit.  My mother-in-law Pam came, we kissed our sleeping children and headed off to the hospital.









Even though we had Pre-registered, our first stop was registration to fill out some more paperwork.  Being that it was very early, this process didn't take too long and we were soon in L&D (Labor and Delivery).  While I said good-bye to my own clothing for what would be several days, Marty brought in our bags.  Yes, I said bags.  I had my "Stuff I Might Need in Labor" Bag (massager rollers, my own pillow, socks, camera, ect), my "Stuff I Will Need After Delivery" Bag (toiletries, slippers, bathrobe, magazines, clothes to go home in, baby outfit, ect), and my "Stuff for Marty" (snacks, toothbrush, phone numbers, ect.).  The nurses and our midwife, Rita-Marie, wasted no time getting me hooked up to an IV of fluid, baby monitors, and finally the Pitocin. Rita-Marie explained that it sometimes took up to two hours for the Pitocin to work because they started it at such a low level.  On a scale going up to 80, they started me at 2 (I eventually got to 60).  Marty and I hunkered down ready to wait for things to get started.  We didn't have to wait long. In only 5 minutes, I was having contractions that were 2 minutes apart. Pam, Bob and Geri all came by to visit and Mark brought Marty dinner and got "the evening report" for the others, which was great and made me feel very supported.  Because I was on the Pitocin, I couldn't be taken off the monitors, which made going to the bathroom a group effort.  From bed, to rocking chair, to standing up I labored without pain medication for about 7 hours while Marty and I debated names.  Then things changed as I hit active labor and I learned that Marilyn Monroe had it all wrong.  Diamonds are not a girl's best friend.  An epidural is a girl's best friend.

The epidural did not go as smoothly as I would have hoped.  First it worked on only one side of my body, but they fixed it and I was actually able to get some rest.  I tried to move at one point and the epidural moved instead and no longer worked.  When I was 8+ cm., it had to be replaced because it stopped working all together.  Then it had to be adjusted a 4th time because it had stopped working when I was 9+ cm.  But, when it was working, which was most of the time, I was very comfortable.   

Finally, it was time to push.  They informed us that, due to my status as a high-risk pregnancy, they were only going to allow me to push for an hour, but that it should be plenty of time to finish the process.  I pushed and pushed.  They even used the vacuum.  Two and a half hours of pushing all told, but Jack would not budge.  Also, his heart rate was going down and then spiking, which was causing even more alarm.  Finally, it was decided that a C-section would be the safest option for the baby.  So Marty got all geared up and they prepped me for surgery. 

The epidural was not quite enough to get me through the surgery, so , after all that work, I went from knocked up to knocked out and essentially missed the whole thing.  Jack was born at 1:35 AM on August 31st weighing in at 7 pounds 10.4 ounces and 21 inches long.  I woke up at about 3:30 AM in a bit of a daze.

BABY PICTURES!!!

For some reason, I can't seem to make the pictures available through the "photo album" feature, but you should be able to see them if you click this link...

http://nohe5.typepad.com/photos/pictures_of_jack/

There will be more setail posted when Momma comes home on Saturday afternoon!

We're Off to See the Wizard, The Wonderful Wizard of Birth

It is 5:52 AM here in Woodbridge and we are getting ready to go to the hospital.  I was amazed that I actually got some sleep last night.  I even hit the snooze once this morning.  I have even been getting less nervous the closer we've been getting to leaving. We'll see if that lasts.

Last night, we took the kids out for a special meal at Macaroni Grill. Rachel is so excited about the baby she can hardly contain herself.  Every other sentence was, "When we wake up the baby will come out!" Nicholas ate his pizza blissfully ignorant of today's events and overjoyed that, being a pizza for one, he didn't have to share with anyone.

In case anyone is looking for us today, we will be at Potomac Hospital on Opitz Drive in Woodbridge, VA.  We'll be the couple still trying to pick out a name.

On this, the Eve of My Confinement…

On this, the Eve of My Confinement, I have been reflecting on my whole pregnancy and trying to come up with a list of things that I will miss and not miss about the current state of my body. It has been such a strange ride and, while I am nervous about tomorrow, I am looking forward to seeing my feet again. So here it goes…

Things I will miss:

Never having to ask, “Does this make me look fat?”

Having complete and unchallenged control over the thermostat

Feeling my baby kick

Some of my maternity clothes (they are really cute)

Carbohydrates (I have to go on a stricter diet because I have can’t breastfeed on my insulin medication)

Encouraged naps

Having our son all to myself

Things I will not miss:

Feeling like a member of Cirque Du Soleil whenever I shave my legs

Not being able to eat seafood, hot dogs or cold cuts

Doctor’s visits three times a week

Having only two positions in which to sleep, in the basement on a recliner or in my bed uncomfortable (I can’t wait to sleep on my stomach again)

Bumping in to things with my belly

The baby’s head on my bladder at 2AM

Debating over a name (no we still don’t have a winner, but we are getting close)

Worrying about labor

After tomorrow, I am sure that I will have addendums and substitutions for these lists, but for now these are the things that pop in to my head. It has been a great ride, if not what I had originally planned for my first pregnancy. I am thankful to all those who helped to make it as special as possible.

All Knocked Up & No Place to Go

I inherited quite a bit from my mother: the look of my hands, my thick Akunevich hair, a desire to buy beautiful pastries regardless of how they might taste, and an instinctual need to plan ahead. Let me tell you how bad/good, depending on your point of view, my planning can be. When we went to Kings Dominion for Mother’s Day/Marty’s Birthday, I printed out the height requirements for every ride so that we wouldn’t inadvertently stand in the line of a ride that the kids couldn’t go on. Now that is planning. And don’t even get me started on lists.

It is due to my need to make contingency plans for my contingency plans, that this stage of my pregnancy has been so frustrating. There are so many variables that I have no control over. Will I go in to labor before Tuesday? How long will it take? How long will I have to stay in the hospital? Even knowing that I will be induced on Tuesday, doesn’t seem to help, because it just leads to other questions. At least I know what I’ll be doing on Wednesday and that gives me some comfort.

The funny thing is that as I reflect on all of this uncertainty and seeming lack of planning, I think that it is part of a greater plan that has been occurring long before I got pregnant in order to train couples for what they are about to experience. One of the many things that I have learned from raising Rachel and Nicholas is that with children, even the best laid plans can be thrown in to turmoil by something as simple as the phrase, “I have to go potty.” Last fall the kids and I were running several errands, when from the back seat I heard that exact phrase. The good news was that we were pulling in to the parking lot of Babies R Us; the bad news was that Rachel was only 3 and a half. I gathered up the kids and we dashed in to the store. Their little legs were a blur and I kept repeating, “Rachel we’re almost there” like some sort of insane mantra. After passing booties and toys and cribs, we finally reached the ladies’ room located at the back of the store. I pushed open the purple door to reveal the three empty and waiting stalls. We had made it! Just then Rachel’s foot hit the tile floor with a splash instead of a slap. Yep, literally on the threshold, her sad eyes met mine and she said, “I don’t have to go anymore.” Thank goodness there was another mother in the restroom with two little girls of her own and a look on her face of, “Oh honey, we have all been there.” I asked her if she could do me a huge favor and go out on the floor and grab any outfit in a 3T. She came back with a purple flowered top and some ruffled pants. While not fancy, it was the most beautiful outfit I had ever seen. I learned two big lessons about motherhood that day. First, the only thing you can predict with children is that they will be unpredictable. Second, there is a huge club that you get to join when you become a mother. The passwords are knowing glances as children melt down in grocery stores and the dues are your ability to complete a thought, but the benefits are wonderful.

The point of all of this rambling is that I know I should know better. This baby will come when he is ready and no amount of planning or lists will make him come sooner. But, if he is not ready by Tuesday, his lease is up. Now, how long it takes him to move out, is still up to him.