Still Alive

If I have a single individual still checking into the blog after such a protracted silence, I'll be surprised. The last few weeks are a blurry composite of fluid -- of all types --and smiles and cuddles and exhaustion. Even Michael eats constantly and he's growing at a rate that has the doctor smiling and shaking her head.

When he was weighed at his two-week appointment, he had gained over a pound in ONE WEEK. Last Thursday, when a nurse visited our house to check on him, she weighed him and he weighed 10 pounds 14.5 ounces. He's been gaining two ounces a day! And he's grown 2.4 inches since his two week doctor's appointment.

OK. So, a few words on the not to easy parts. First, I am of course unbelievably happy that EM is growing as he is. However, sustaining that growth is wearing me out. My boobs are huge and get sore after around the millionth feeding of the day. Again. I'm in love with the boy and am thrilled he is thriving, but the first month of breastfeeding has been exhausting.

So, apologies if this posting is a bit dull. I wanted to check in though. Now, I'm off to get a kiss from EM.

The price of a Subway sandwich.

The thought struck me a few moments ago that I've not said thank you to all of you who've been following us these past months, and sending us your love, thoughts and prayers. It's meant so much to us. And on that sentimental note, I'll do a 180 and share a story from this past week that I think will amuse you.

Last Monday, just before noon and the end stages of my labor, the doctor told E he would have time to run and grab a bite to eat. After all, he needed sustenance. The real action was about to begin.

I know what you're probably thinking. Sounds reasonable so far. We had been there for hours. What happened next is where those thoughts might start to wane. Instead of running upstairs to the hospital cafeteria for a sandwich, E decided it was really Subway he wanted. (Interesting that in all the drama, he actually had a yen for something specific rather than simply filling his empty tank...) In his defense, I had not fully dilated, so, eh. And Subway was just down the street.

Anyway, while he was out, the action started. The doctor rushed in. It was time to push. But where was E, she asked. Still at Subway? My dad runs out to try and find him. He had actually had time have grabbed a sandwich and already returned.

Meanwhile, the contractions are getting stronger. And the doctor is saying, we can wait. Let's wait for your husband. It was at that moment that I said, let's start without him. Seriously. I didn't feel like I could hold back. Big loss, but at that point, unavoidable I felt. (Sad, but true. The pressure!Felt like I was trying to hold back a train!)

Just about that time, E appears in the doorway. He made it! Turns out, he had decided to dine-in. Interesting decision.

To think, he almost missed the arrival of his firstborn for a Subway sandwich.

Hunkered in the Bunker

Wow. Don't know quite where to start. First of all, we've been home a few days now and nothing seems real yet. Last week was scary, and little Even Michael had a rougher start than I realized at the time. But we're unbelievable thankful to be home now -- with our healthy and very hungry boy.

I can't quite believe it's been a week since I checked into the hospital. And since things got a little too crazy for me to blog, I'm posting a week in pictures. Here goes... But first, you can check out the official "hospital" photo here.




Tomorrow, I will be adding more pictures to the slide show. So, if you're interested, check back in.

And to all of you who forewarned me -- this is indeed hard work! Just breastfeeding the little one is an enormously time-consuming task in the beginning... I did have another "first" today though: Surfing online while the bean had his third lunch.

OK. EW2 is crying... It's midnight. Gotta go...

Meet the Bean

Today has been one unbelievably happy day. A surreal day. When I woke this morning, my first
thoughts were of when I would be able to see our little boy.

E has been posting to the blog for the past couple days since I've been a little tied up, shall we say. I thought I would flesh out his post with a bit more detail.

First, E posted the Bean's weight. He's HUGE! Really. People are already commenting on how he looks like he's about a month old! Because of his size, and the fact that it made it a bit difficult for me to push him out, he wasn't in the best condition when he emerged. In fact, I didn't get to do as I had intended, to try and breastfeed him immediately. It was a bit scary actually. His cry sounded weak, and he was quite listless. I got to hold him for only a couple minutes before he was taken to the NICU (intensive care unit for babies). No breathing problems, etc. He just wasn't as active as he should have been.

He was much better today though, which was a huge relief for all of us. In fact, I got to breastfeed him for the first time this morning, which was an amazing experience. I felt so fortunate! He latched on immediately and fed and fed and fed. And encouraging as he sucked so strongly. I fed him again this afternoon. All I can say is that our boy really likes the boobie.

So, regarding his health, the doctors are performing a spinal tap this evening to rule out any infection as infections in newborns can be very serious. I hate that he needs to have this done, but as long as the results show that he is infection free, and he continues as he has done today, we'll be able to take him home Thursday.

Meanwhile, I continue to creep around at a wounded snail's pace. Let's just say that a 9 pound baby can do some damage on the way out...

OK. I'm pooped. But I wanted to share pics and stories...

More news to come!

The Bean has landed

Everything went well, the Bean - from now Even Michael weighed 9lb 3.6oz (4.2 kg).

More to follow soon...

E

From Bean Senior

The storm has calmed somewhat after a pretty rough night.

Actually it's all good in room 1606 - post epidural and several demorols...

The dialation was 6 cm about 1.5 hours ago, so we're on the right track.

More to come....

We're here!

... at the hospital, and we won't be leaving without the Bean. We arrived a little before seven, but since mine isn't exactly an emergency situation, we had to wait a little over an hour (in our room here) to see doctor and get examined. I now have an IV (because there are some meds they have to start giving me soon) and am listening to the Bean's galloping horse heartbeat.

OK. So now for the really good news. Who would have thought I would ever get so excited to hear the words "you've dilated a centimeter." Yes! I'll take anything! What I'm wondering is, did the Castor oil help? Probably. Though, even with hindsight, I would not take that again.

The bad news. I didn't realize I would be able to eat once I arrived. I know that's the case when you're in labor, but since this treatment is supposedly to help accomplish that, I thought I would still be able to eat. I was wrong. And lunch was the last meal I had today. Oops. Since I have dilated a little, the only thing they allowed me were a few graham crackers and orange juice. From here on out, it's ice chips. Even if it takes 24 hours! I'm already planning my first post-baby meal though. A large sandwich from Subway; something that's been off-limits for the past nine months!

OK. I think I'm about to sign off... Getting nervous. First time to be spending the night at a hospital! Here are a couple of photos to give you an idea of what it looks like here in the room...

Devil in a bottle

Last night, at the suggestion of my doctor, I took it upon myself to try an old wives' trick for triggering labor. Castor oil. I quickly downed two tablespoons, which according to the packaging, would take between six and 12 hours to, well, trigger any "activity," shall we say.

First, I should say for those uninitiated folk, Castor oil -- which I learned last night -- is not a mild laxative, but the devil in a bottle. After throwing up numerous times and, well, other things, I thought I was going into labor. Contractions started. And they were painful. So, about 1 a.m., we called the hospital and I spoke to a midwife who said that she never recommends Castor oil for specifically this reason; some people react so violently to it -- and it can produce FALSE labor.

I was up until a little after 3 a.m. when I was finally able to doze for about half an hour before getting sick again. So I was up again until about half past five when I was finally able to drift off to sleep until seven.

I think it's safe to call this a failed attempt at this point. A horrifying and very painful failed attempt. And really disruptive for the rest of the household. In two shifts, I had E, my mom and dad up. Oops!

Let my dreadful experience be a warning to all: Beware Castor oil, particularly when you are 40 plus weeks pregnant.

Jinx. The Bean's a bandit.

Disclaimer: This post does away with many of the euphemistic niceties that I've used in previous postings to keep from offending anyone's senses. If you are sensitive to words like "dilation," proceed at the risk of your own stomach.

This morning started with all the great anticipation one might expect in our situation. Was I nervous? Yes. But excitement at that point outweighed the nerves. Once we arrived at the doctor's office, where I was to be examined prior to being admitted to the hospital, things didn't follow the course I had expected. First, the doctor had been called to labor and delivery to introduce another very lucky woman's child to the fair city of Baltimore. So, we waited.

My thoughts at this time? I wonder if the Bean will be born in the middle of the night or in the morning. Hmmm... Well, maybe the Bean could hear what I was thinking.

Finally, Dr. Craig returned. My name was called. I went back for my final (shameful) weigh-in and then proceeded to the exam room. We listened to the heartbeat. Sounded great! And then, then came the fun part. I just KNEW that I had begun to dilate. Last week, my cervix had effaced 60 percent, but I hadn't dilated. Yesterday though, I was having very sharp pains that led me to believe today's exam would show that I had indeed dilated.

Well, I've obviously not been through this before. No dilation. Ah! What were those pains? Well, guesstimations are that the Bean is going to be quite a large baby. The doctor says it's mighty heft if simply causing more pain as it presses more strongly against, well, everything.

Bottom line: We're to report back to the hospital Sunday for induction. Yes, you've read this before. I've heard it before. But this is it. Meds are coming on Sunday.

Have I mentioned how tired I am? Oh. Sorry. I have, haven't I.

Cracked

It's a little past 5:30 a.m., and I've been awake the majority of the night. Here's the strange part. I'm not tired. I've been waiting for 5:30 so that I would could get up without bothering anyone else in the house.

The thoughts that have been running through my head range from the mundane (Oh no, did I leave the white chair on the balcony?... It's supposed to rain) to the neurotic (Hard candy! I haven't put any in my bag for the hospital!) to the legitimate (Hmm... Dr. Craig didn't tell me if she would admit me immediately after she examines me tomorrow, and I can't ask her today because she's out). And that's how the night went. Meanwhile, bobbed -- WE ARE BRINGING A NEW PERSON HOME THIS WEEKEND, TO STAY -- in and out of thoughts as well.

I'm excited that in just a little over two hours, we'll get the last in-utero glimpse of the Bean. It is amusing how funny this is since I'll see, touch and smell the little one by Saturday. There's something at the same time sweet and sad about it though, knowing this is the beginning of a hopefully very full life -- with all the love, joy but also sadness this brings.

OK. I'll get off the sentimental train. My mom, dad, Even and I are about to leave for Baltimore. And because I'm a first-time mother, I'm doing things that some of you guys are probably giggling over. For example, today, we're making a little documentary of the last day before the Bean's arrival. I've already shot some "footage" ;-)

Getting down to the wire. Gotta run. I'll update with those creepy ultrasound pics upon our return!

Hmm...

I don't want to write anything negative, so I'm not going to write anything more.

Updates tomorrow...

No, I'm not having twins

Today, no fewer than two strangers asked if I was pregnant with twins. This happens every time I venture out of the house these days. Seriously.

My parents arrived Saturday, and both have been a huge help. OK. So help is the wrong word. They're handling all the last minute preparations --getting the Bean's room ready, the remaining clothes washed and put away, plus my mom has been cooking and cleaning. Nice! But I digress.

Today, we ran a few errands and my dad commented on how every time I passed by someone, they would either blatantly stare, or politely try the covert glance. It's true. And then you have those individuals who blurt -- "you must be due, like, now." Well, yes I am.

All true. You may be curious now about just how large my Bean belly is. Well, I'll post a new picture in the morning.

So, Thursday, we'll go for our last ultrasound. Didn't I post that already? Anyway, I'll be posting the pictures as soon as we return from the hospital. UNLESS, the Bean arrives before then. We'll see. I have a feeling he/she is quite comfortable and in no rush.

BLASTED!

This is best for the Bean. This is best for the Bean. This is best for the Bean.

This is my mantra for the evening. I am so utterly disappointed. I was at the doctor a couple of hours ago and it seems things haven't progressed to a point where I can be induced tomorrow. So, unless the Bean arrives of his/her own volition during the next week, next Friday is the big day. To you, this is only seven days. To me, it might as well be a month. Here's why. In no particular order.

• I now walk like a severely arthritic elderly woman.
• I feel I have the hips of a severely arthritic elderly woman.
• I can't actually see my inside right ankle bone.
• Two complete strangers today asked if I am pregnant with twins.

I could go on, but I've whined enough.

Here's the silver lining though: Tomorrow is ice cream day! Yes.