Sweet Presence

“There’s going to be a baby in this crib.” That was the thought I had mere weeks before KC was born. My belly big. Looking down at the empty crib just waiting for her arrival. Sheets and blankets inviting and soft. “There’s going to be a baby in this crib. I wonder what she will look like.”

Tonight as I gently lay her down to sleep, as I often do, I thought of that moment. When it really hit me. She was coming. Soon. My baby. I was finally going to see her, feel her. That same afternoon, Ted and I took the baby monitor out back to see how far it would keep a strong signal. We had hit the button on a mobile that played a sweet song. We could hear it clearly in the back yard. I got a little teary-eyed thinking of it. He put a hand on my shoulder in a gesture that said, “I know how you feel.”

This memory is a strong one. I felt I should write it down. Before it fades too much. Ted’s sister and her husband are patiently awaiting the arrival of daughter number two. She’s due any day now. Does it feel like that for the second child too? I  imagine it does. This presence that it there, but not quite there yet. “There’s going to be a baby in this crib.”

What a blessing.

You took the words right out of my brain.

I found a website that scans your blog and makes a “Wordle”, which is basically a cloud of words in different sizes and colors. Words that pop up a lot in your most recent posts. I think that the larger words are ones used more often, but not sure. Here’s mine:

Looking at it, I can tell it used a lot of words from KC’s birth story. Kind of cool.

Pregnant Pause #4: Birthday

There’s one story that needs to be told before I completely forget all the details. The story of KC’s birth. It wasn’t particularly dramatic, or unusual, but it’s my story. Her story. It was one of the most amazing days of our life. Probably the most amazing day. Ted, I’m sure, would agree. It’s the day our family was born. It’s kind of long, so get comfortable…

My pregnancy was very easy. I felt great, had no problems, kept a reasonable weight the whole time…I was lucky. By the end, however, I was very ready for it to be over. Feeling like a beached whale everywhere you sit or lay down is not fun. Not fun at all. I had started to forget what it felt like to sleep on my stomach. It’s funny the things you take for granted when not pregnant.

Ted was also very ready for it to be done, however, for slightly different reasons than mine. He was nervous as hell about the birth itself. He worried constantly about what it would be like and whether he’d be able to deal with it. Would he be able to get us to the hospital ok? Could he stay by my side and not freak out? If I had allowed it, he would have parked himself in the waiting room like a dad from the fifities. He actually did bring cigars to pass out.

My final appointment with my OB-GYN was frustrating, but not unusual. I was very close to, then past, my due date. She told me I was a little bit dilated, but not much. Ted didn’t completely understand what that meant, but I did. I had read the entire “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” right on through the birth chapters. I knew what was coming. I like knowing. I am a reader and an information addict. I tried to explain to Ted that even though “technically” the process was beginning, I could still be walking around only slightly dilated for another week or so. We’d just have to wait. The waiting was slowly sucking his will to live.

I didn’t even go that far beyond my date. I was due on Sept. 11th, and we were to be induced on Sept. 17th if she didn’t come on her own. Some women go much longer. I think Ted would have gone insane. Luckily for us, she decided to make her debut on Friday, Sept. 14th. Knowing I was soon to be induced, I had begun my maternity leave that week. I was getting pretty uncomfortable anyway, so figured one week at home without baby wasn’t too bad. I had 8 weeks total, which sounded like enough time to spend with her, minus one week for myself. It sure didn’t seem long enough in the end, but I digress. Where was I?

Oh, right. Friday, Sept. 14th. That morning I noticed some…uh…shall we say…fluid leaking. I was certain it wasn’t any of the typical “female fluid” one sees during (and after…oh, Lord the after…) pregnancy. I knew it wasn’t pee either. I mentioned it to Ted, but assured him he could go off to work. I would call my doc. If she said it was a big deal, I’d call him to come home. They tell you not to rush to the hospital anyway, and I definitely was not having any contractions. Not that I knew of. Seemed like they would be fairly obvious if TV and movies are at all accurate. Turns out they are NOT all that accurate.

The doc was concerned that my fluid leak could be the water breaking. Apparently, the water doesn’t always break in a huge embarrassing gush. Sometimes it’s a slow leak. I described the color as not totally clear and that was a flag that I should come right to the hospital to be checked out. Turns out a baby can “poo” in the womb as they near the time for birth. If that stuff, called meconium by the pros, is in the amniotic fluid, it can be aspirated by baby when they take the first breath. Not good. Nothing to panic over, but definitely cause for a checkup.

My doc was doing rounds, or something at the hospital that day, so she encouraged me to get there before 10 am. I checked in, they put me in a gown, put a fetal heart monitor across my belly and, wouldn’t you know it, I was having contractions. What? For real? I joked with the nurses that if these were contractions, this birth thing would be a breeze! Hahahahaha! The doc came and they were able to confirm, that yes, it was amniotic fluid, the baby in fact did expel some meconium in there so we needed to induce my labor. We started making the phone calls. To put out the “alert” so to speak.

I want to stop the story and mention at this point that all was very calm and casual on the day of KC’s birth. My doc was awesome. She, Ted and I really hit it off. Ted came to a lot of the appointments with me and we were both very impressed with her straight forward and humorous nature. Ted and I are pretty laid back people. There were never any discussions of mid-wives, fancy birth centers or doulas, pre-scheduling C-sections, or inductions so the baby would be born on our schedule. Hell, not even a birth plan was put down on paper. I only told her I was very “open” to drugs if it seemed like a good idea in the moment. She loved us for this. We roll with the punches. Let the chips fall where they may, etc. We accepted from day one that pregnancy and birth are a process you cannot always control. She praised us and told us she felt that was part of why my pregnancy was so easy going. Eh…who knows. Maybe it did help. I think she had her fair share of “difficult” mothers-to-be and was just relieved to have a few patients who were laid back. According to her, in our area, there a lot of “high-strung” women. No! Really? Must be the traffic.

So, there we were. Me in my lovely gown. Alternating between walking around a bit, and laying in bed to be monitored for contractions/heart beat, etc. If I recall correctly, it was about 10 am when I technically started my labor. Easy as pie for a little while (remember how I joked about it? hee. hee. hee.), but those contractions did start to intensify. Hence the walking around. Apparently that’s supposed to help. I don’t know if it did. I do recall that when a contraction would come, I’d have to lean on something. Later, when they got worse, I made best friends with one of the chairs in the room and just sat there, very still, gripping the arms.

Ted’s family arrived pretty early on. They live in the area. As with most natural births, none of us really knew how long it would be so everyone figured why not be there just in case. My mom and dad had to drive 3 hours, so they jumped in the car as soon as we called that morning. They must have arrived by about 1:00 pm. At that point I was experiencing enough pain with contractions that I could only really talk to them in between. I was still dealing quite well though. I had heard, earlier in the morning, a woman screaming very loudly down the hall. I never made it to that level. Maybe she was going for a true natural birth. No drugs. God love her.

As part of the process, I was to be induced. At one point they gave me some pitocin in an IV drip to “get the party started”. Although I was steadily dilating, it was going a tad slow. I seem to recall my doc first trying some kind of gel on my cervix that was supposed to induce, or something. I guess that didn’t really do it, so the IV came next. She came to check on me at one point and could see that I was in much more pain that earlier. (Perhaps God’s way of punishing me for laughing off earlier contractions? I’ll never know.) She joked that this was just the “smoke” and I hadn’t even seen the “fire” yet. Yeah. Hahahahaha! Wait. Really?

It’s true what they say about forgetting the pain. Looking back, I don’t recall it being that bad. I never did scream like the lady down the hall. I had to incorporate some odd breathing techniques. Which, by the way, I totally made up on the fly. I don’t think I could have concentrated enough to do the technique taught to me in the childbirth class. I distinctly remember going completely inward when those really bad contractions started happening. People would say stuff to me and I’d just kind of grunt and nod. Trapped inside my head, not really hearing anyone. It was about this time that my doc stopped by and said, “Yep. She’s ready for some drugs.” I emphatically nodded my agreement.

It took about 15 minutes or so for the Beautiful Goddess, sorry, I mean anesthesiologist, to come by. I always feared this procedure. A needle in my spine. Ow. Granted, it’s not a spinal tap, but still. Yikes. Truth is, when  you are feeling the pain of contractions, a 3 inch metal spike could be the delivery system for that sweet release and you’d say “bring it on!” They put some kind of pain medicine in my IV so I could relax long enough to sit, bend forward over my belly, and hold still for the epidural. Oh my sweet, sweet Jesus. The difference in my demeanor was like night and day. “Now we’re cookin’. Let’s have a baby people!”

I think it was lucky they gave me the epidural when they did. 15 to 30 minutes later and it may have been too late to get one. I had a little button that allowed me to dispense a little more when I felt the need. I got to push that button one time and immediately afterward they shut it off completely. It was showtime. This little girl was ready to come out. They explained to me that I’d need to listen to the nurses and when they told me, I was to push as hard as I could and try to hold it for a count of ten. At least I think it was ten. May as well have been 100. It seemed like a long time.

Now, here’s the funny part. I had told Ted in advance, that I didn’t expect him to stand right at the end of the bed where he could see all the gory details of the birth itself. Hell, I didn’t want to see it myself, so why should I ask him to watch? I assured him, he could step back to a safe distance and let the nurses help me. One of the nurses turned to him, assuming he wanted a starring role, and said, “Ok, dad. You are going to hold this knee up toward her chest while she pushes and I’ll get the other side.” Ted could very easily have said, “Oh, thanks, but that’s alright. I’ll let you guys do this part.” There was another nurse present. But, that’s not in Ted’s nature. He obediently stepped right up without even hesitating. Effectively giving himself a front row seat to the show with mandatory audience participation.

He was amazing. I was so proud. If he was scared or nervous, I couldn’t tell. Didn’t seem like I had to push too many times before KC was almost out. I remember when the head popped out. I totally felt that. That lovely epidural allowed me to really sense what was happening without actually feeling the burning pain which, I’m quite sure, comes with this particular part of the process. Epidurals are nice. I highly recommend it if you are thinking of birthing a baby anytime soon.

As I mentioned waaaaay back at the beginning of this story, there was that pesky meconium to worry about. Earlier in the day, the doc made it very clear to the nurses that a special team must be present the moment she comes out. “As soon as the head is out you must be sure they are coming.”, she barked. “Sir! Yes. sir!” It was the job of this team of specialists (I’m guessing from the NICU) to help be sure KC didn’t aspirate that nasty stuff. She came out, they grabbed her, she did cry a bit before they could completely clear all the airways, but luckily, nothing bad got into the lungs. I remember they seemed to be thumping her all over with a plastic cup-like thing. Very strange, but soon it was over and she was fine. Just fine. Whew. Relief. I have to admit that even though Ted and I didn’t let the whole “meconium thing” worry us, we were kind of scared.  Who wouldn’t be? They cleaned her up and handed her to us.

It’s kind of fuzzy in my memory, unfortunately, what it was like to first hold her. To see her face for the first time. I was kind of hazy due to the drugs. heh. heh. But I do recall feeling intensely happy, relieved and excited. (Probably also due in part to the drugs. They gave me percoset after too.) We have photos in which we are glowing. Really glowing. Family started pouring into the room. The doc congratulated us and went off to her other mothers-in-labor down the hall. All family had stayed in the waiting area during the real labor. Once I got that epidural, it was clear that we were close. Everyone seemed cool with it being just Ted and I in there for the pushing part. Even my mom admitted that she was too worried about me, her baby, to be in there with the action. Getting updates via Ted was plenty good enough.

All in all, it took roughly 5-6 hours from when I first got the gown on and climbed in the bed. Not too shabby. Especially since a lot of the early hours were spent with very minimal pain, and then also the final portion too thanks to my awesomemagicalwonderfulohmygodeveryoneshouldhaveoneofthese epidural. I’d have to look at KC’s birth certificate to recall the exact time of birth, but I believe it was in the neighborhood of 5-5:30 pm. She was 7 lbs, 10 oz and about 21 inches long.

I’ll look up the stats and update this post later. That’s kind of bad that I can’t say for sure.

Ted brought me dinner at around 7 pm. I very stupidly didn’t eat at home when I had the chance that morning. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. My cafeteria turkey and potatoes was like the food of the God’s by that point. Family came and then went on home to get rested. My BFF came all the way out after work to see me. She was my last visitor and just made my night. Still feeling goofy and happy from the combo of drugs and ohmylordmybabyisfianllyhere, I drifted through the remainder of that evening. Ted stayed at the hospital with us for both nights despite the insanely uncomfortable chair/fouton/torture-device for guests. Nice hospital, but they definitely need to rethink those awful things. He was a trooper. Later he would try to describe the, and I quote, “worse than any horror movie”, “so much blood it was scary” scene he got to see in very close-up detail, as KC slipped and slid her way out into the glaring reality of life. Oh, and then he also saw the placenta come out. Poor guy.

We kept her in our room the 1st night. We let the nursery keep her the 2nd night. We kind of knew that would be our last chance to really sleep for a while. They brought her to me for feeding, but that was it until morning came and then she’d hang with us again. Her cry was unmistakable coming down the hallway. I’ll never forget it.  Some people claim to hate being in the hospital for too long after giving birth. I kind of liked it. I think I will still like it if I have a second. The nurses were wonderful. Very helpful and sweet. It was good for me personally to be there. To rest. Ted, I’m certain, was ready for his own bed.

After what seemed like hours of final visits from pediatrician on duty and nurses with tons of paperwork, they finally gave us the green light to go home. They wheeled the two of us (my daughter and I) outside into the bright September light. Ted brought the car around and then we were off. Off on our own. Just the three of us. Starting our adventures as the Doran family. So far it’s been pretty sweet.

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As a wonderful addition to this birth story, allow me to present “GG’s” take on that day. Thanks, mom!

A report from the other side of the door.  Well, KC someday you will read this and know how excited we all were.  Gramps and I got the call from your Mom about 8:30 a.m. that she was in the hospital.  It had begun.

We had driven back from MN so that we could “attend” the birth.  Perfect, you had decided not to come before we got back and now you were even starting your arrival in the a.m. so we did not have to drive to VA from DE in the middle of the night (we older folks don’t do so well driving at night).  So Gramps and I were up and out in a flash and on our way to the hospital.  It is a 3 hr trip from here.  I was very nervous.  Gramps was calm (that’s his nature).  I have to be honest with you KC, I was thinking more of your Mom—she is MY baby and I had never seen her in real pain or in a situation that could be dangerous.  I dearly wanted a grandbaby, but I just didn’t want anything to happen to her in the process.

We arrived around 1:00 and were ushered into a lovely room (looked like somebody’s home bedroom) curtains, stuffed furniture, really nice.  Your Mom was starting to have some serious pain by now so Gramps and I just held her hand and told her we were here and would be outside the room if she wanted us.  I had decided before the day that I would not be a good one to be in the room while the birth took place and I know Gramps felt the same.  I think it is a very special time for husband and wife, very personal.  Also I was kinda freaked out and did not want to show your Mom that.  She was doing great and your Dad was terrific.

Gramps and I seated ourselves in the little waiting room right outside where your Mom was.  As a nurse passed by I asked when they would take your Mom up to the delivery room (how 70’s of me).  She explained that you would be born right there in that room.  They had all things necessary to handle the birth.  Wow, things had changed from my day—dads in the room and no “delivery room”.  Your Dad came out every few minutes to give us updates.  Soon we were joined by the Doran clan, Grandma and Grandpa D. and Aunt Mary.  We all sat there together enjoying this most exciting event.  We never left that area, all of us holding our breath when around 5:30 p.m. we heard it, your glorious, wonderful, distictive cry—you had arrived.  Your Dad rushed out so happy and proud. All had gone fine and we could come in and meet you in a minute (they wanted to get you and Mom prettied up.)  By 6:00 p.m. we were all in the room together, pictures being taken, hugs and such relief that Mom and Baby were just fine.  Your journey had begun.

Gramps and I left the happy scene about 8:00 p.m. to get a hotel room.  We toasted you with champagne we bought for the occasion and slept knowing we had a beautiful little granddaughter.  The next day we came to the hospital to see you and your Mom and Dad again.  How sweet.  Our little family had a beautiful baby girl to love.  Your Mom and Dad were just great—what a team!

Pregnant Pause #3 – It’s All in the Hips

Ok, that sounds kind of sleazy doesn’t it? I have a way with obscure headlines. Got your attention though didn’t it? A doctor’s appointment today brings up another subject from KC’s early days. Here’s a rather important story from before the blog.

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The hips were a big thing when KC was born. Her hips that is. Or rather, ONE of her hips. One of them was out of the socket when she was born. Caused by the way she held herself in the womb. Sounds a lot worse than it is. The baby doesn’t feel any pain. Not like if you, or I suddenly got a joint yanked out of the socket. If the baby’s legs are in such a position that the hip “ball” joint doesn’t get to sit up close in the socket for long enough, it won’t begin to form, or grab onto that joint like it should. Luckily they check those babies over pretty thoroughly at the hospital these days, so they saw it right away.

KC’s cousin had the same issue, but in both hips. And, get this. That tendency towards a certain position in the womb…it’s genetic. Weird, right? I kind of thought so anyway. I didn’t question it too much to be honest. I almost wouldn’t have believed that explanation except for the fact that it happened to our niece too. That would be too big a coincidence not to be genetic. Isn’t science fun?

Both girls had to wear a harness for the first few months of life to help coax the joints up where they belong. A whole lot worse for the parents than the baby, let me tell you. It’s tough enough being a new mom and totally unsure of yourself. Now add the fact that your baby has an “issue” that you have to deal with by taking her to Children’s hospital. Even if that issue isn’t so horrible when compared to other possible problems a child could be born with, it’s still a tough pill to swallow. I cried. A lot. Part of it was the hormones, but part was the fear that she was in pain, or that I’d make things worse while holding her.

The doctors assured us it didn’t hurt, and we couldn’t do any harm by handling her normally. Babies are very soft and squishy when new. This particular problem, when caught right away, can be easily fixed due to the fact that they are soft, and bone is still forming. Once we got her in that harness, and we started to see that she didn’t cry or seem to be uncomfortable, we were ok.

The harness is a fabric thing with lots of velcro straps that goes on a bit like a halter top and has cloth stirrups that hold the baby’s feet up toward the chest. When laying there, she looked like a little froggy. It didn’t seem to bother KC too much. I guess that’s the benefit of being very small and new. You really don’t know the difference yet, do you? She had to wear it all the time. That was tough. We were allowed to remove it for the occasional bath or to wash it when it got really funky. Pretty much all she could wear was a onsie. Pants of any sort (including footed sleepers) are just impossible. A lot of blankets were used and a lot of cute clothes went unworn in those first few months.

At first it seemed like the time she had to wear the thing would stretch on forever. Even now, I have trouble remembering exactly when we got to say goodbye to it for good. At some point we got to scale back and only put it on her while she slept. I think it was around the first week or two of January of 2008 that it was over. I don’t think she wore it for more than 4 months total. We were lucky. It did it’s job well and they gave her the all clear. Of course they wanted to see her a few more times to watch and be sure.

We went back in yesterday for the first time since June. It was the first time since KC started walking. An obvious milestone the doc wanted to check on. They thought she looked great and pretty much said she’d continue to be fine. One final visit in a year. That should be the last.

Just for the record, KC’s older cousin is fine too. She wore her harness a bit longer due to it being both hips, but the outcome was also a good one for them. We even saw the same doctor after my sister in law helped to get me my first appointment. She was a definite lifesaver. Ted and I were really lucky to have she and her husband to talk to. That made it so much easier to deal with. I can just imagine how stressful it was for them, not really knowing what to expect.

Our doc and his assistant were fantastic. We were all sad when both of them left the hospital over the summer, but the new doc we saw today seems just as nice. I have a lot of gratitude to the staff at Children’s. Talk about a hard job. KC is lucky. Her problem was nothing compared to some of the issues they see every day. Seems unfair that children have to suffer at all. Definitely makes you stop and give thanks for the blessings you have.

Here are some pics. I remember how amazingly different it felt to hold her after she got to take the thing off. Long legs, everywhere! She felt so compact in the harness with her legs held up all the time. An easy little bundle to tote around! I can just imagine how good it was for her to be able to stretch out. She was well out of it before she was at an age to want to crawl. Luckily.

You can see the top portion, or the “halter” here (I guess she was having an angry moment):

and a better view of what the leg stirrups were like:

See? She’s smiling. Not so bad.

Pregnant Pause #2 – Better Than TV

Another installment in my diary of memories from before the blog. I’m desperately trying to recall these moments. Amazing how time has flown and how many details I lose with each passing day.

* * * *

One of my coolest memories of being pregnant with KC was the first few times I really felt her move. In the beginning it’s tough to tell if it’s a baby you are feeling, or maybe lunch. Sorry to be gross, but it’s true. They say it feels like bubbles. Yeah. I know some other things that also feel like bubbles. Seriously though, when you first recognize that little being moving around it’s kind of awesome.

Awesome like the first ultrasound. I was lucky enough to get one of those early on. They don’t typically do it until about 5 months if nothing is wrong. At my very first appointment to confirm my condition, the doctor had a slight question as to whether I was viably pregnant. Talk about a scary few hours for Ted and I. Turned out all was fine and we got an early peek inside.

FYI, even when it’s your own ultrasound it looks like nothing but a grainy mess. Seriously. Don’t believe those women who claim they can see their baby in there. They lie. Or they delude themselves.

I had plenty of the typical “oh, wow! feel this!” moments as the months wore on. Usually, she’d stop moving right as I tried to get someone’s hand in the correct spot, but sometimes she’d put on a real show.

The best movement was toward the end. I could actually see a large bump move across my hyper-extended stomach. That’s insanely entertaining. Way better than TV. I would sit on the couch some evenings and just stare at my tummy hoping to catch every single flip and roll. I once tried to get the cat to watch too. Just to see if he’d notice and try to “catch” the baby bump. You know, like cats sometimes do with your hand under a blanket? He never did it though. I guess it wasn’t as transfixing to him.

Now I watch KC play, eat, bathe, laugh, pout, give the poo face…you name it. I love watching her. I used to have that problem where as long as a TV was in the vicinity I could not help but stare at it. Now it’s her that transfixes me. If you are with me and trying to have a conversation, good luck if she’s around. I only half pay attention to others when I’m on mommy duty.

However, it’s really more than just mommy duty. It’s true love at it’s most basic level. I find myself staring at her sometimes when I don’t need to be watching. While she putters around, while Dad holds her and plays with her, or while she’s falling asleep in my lap.

I constantly watch her, and as a result, I know her very well. What certain actions mean, certain sounds. I can anticipate her needs. I can read her moods. I suppose most moms can do these things. It’s in our nature. We are connected to them. We are bonded.

Dad is nurturing too, he is. But in different ways. He helps, and plays and teaches and hugs. He doesn’t notice as readily as me that she’s squirming in just such a way that she really needs the pillow/blanket/pjs/bottle adjusted to fall asleep most comfortably in his lap. Those little tiny cues are picked up by mom radar.

Below is a silly photo of me in my last month. I liked being pregnant. It was an easy 9 months for me to be honest. Easier than I imagined it would be. Here’s hoping if we go for number two, I get that lucky again.

Sexy, no?

The beginning of the end for kitty.

Who are you, and what have you done with my free time?

I read a lot of blogs. In my reading this weekend, I came across mention of a virtual baby shower for two bloggers whom I happen to read (Kristen of Motherhood Uncensored and Rebecca of Girl’s Gone Child!). Click the cute baby over there to find out more about it. Apparently anyone can participate so I figured, “Heck, why not!” Not only is this an opportunity to recognize the kind of blog sites that inspired me to start one of my own, it’s also a chance to add a memory to this (very new) online journal of mine. And, ok I admit it, the idea of maybe getting a few new people to “check me out” was sort of a factor too. I have delusions of grandeur. Sue me. Congrats, ladies, on your soon-to-arrive bundles of joy! And congrats to any other expecting/new moms who find this post!

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I was always very apprehensive about having a baby. I had NO illusions about how hard it might be. I coveted my independence and just KNEW free time would be a thing of the past in large part. I was right. But, the funny thing is, now that I’m here, one year later, I don’t mind at all. It seems like the most natural thing in the world to be KC’s mom. I love it. I admit that I miss the mass amounts of leisure time I used to take for granted, but I still get some moments for myself. And I appreciate them. A lot.

My clearest memory about bringing KC home was that weird feeling of “What the hell do we do now?”. My husband and I sitting in the living room, exhausted from two nights of no sleep in a hospital room (not to mention childbirth), realizing the true scope of what we were embarking on. It was wonderful, it was exciting and it was damn scary. I desperately missed the nurses who kept checking on us.

KC was (still is) a really good baby. But even good babies are tough. I just remember sitting near my bed with her in my arms, looking at my big soft pillow and the clock that showed 1 am…3 am…5 am…wishing so hard that I could just SLEEEEP. Sleep like I used to know before I got pregnant. No interruptions, no little cries calling me to duty.

We spent many nights with her in a bassinet nearby. I think Daddy was able to doze off sometimes, but I was hardly able to sleep at all because of my intense need to watch her and check on her all the time.

“Is she breathing? Is she ok?”

It was a bit of a relief when we felt confident enough to put her in the crib, in her own room, and rely on the monitor to tell us if she was awake.

But, most babies sleep on and off all day long, so of course they are going to wake up at crazy hours. Wouldn’t you? For me, those days in the first month or so were really hard because of that factor. But, they were really awesome for many other reasons. My husband and I would look at her, and then at each other, and just be amazed that we made this little person. Watching her grow and change so much over the past year has been incredible. I’m not sure how ready I am to give her a little brother or sister just yet, but perhaps someday. I think Ted and I are still getting over the shock of having one.

I imagine it’s both easier and harder to take care of a new baby when you’ve got more than one child. You learned so much in round one. Surely that must make it a little easier, right? Or, maybe not, since you probably have a toddler (or two, or three) to chase around as well. But, that freaked out feeling that screams: OH GOD, I HAVE NO FREAKING IDEA WHAT I’M DOING! and SHE’S SO LITTLE ARE YOU SURE I WON’T BREAK HER IF I HOLD HER THIS WAY? Surely, that must be gone by child #2. I guess someday I might find out.

A weird confession: Part of me wants to have a bunch more just to see what they come out like! Seriously. KC is so damn cute that I often think how fun it would be to see what other kind of cuteness we can create. I’m not sure how many kids I will have just yet. Two probably. Three…mmmmm…maybe. Not likely though. I tip my hat to those who do it and who do it well. You ladies (and gents! Dads shouldn’t be forgotten here.) are amazing. Here’s to you!

KC's First Day at Home

Pregnant Pause #1

Ok, don’t freak. I’m not “in the family way” with #2. I have just been thinking lately how unfortunate it is that I didn’t discover blogging before I got pregnant with KC. It would have been so cool to have documented those 9 months to share with her someday.

Factoid: Some people swear it is really 10 months. I’m awful at math so I’m not going there.

Who says I cannot flashback and share some cool memories? I’ll start with the beginning. The morning I peed on a stick and my life was changed forever…

Luckily for me I already had the sticks handy. I guess I must have had a “false” moment at some point that I cannot remember. It was early. Just before we had to leave for work. Nature had been telling me something was up and, wouldn’t you know it, pee stick agreed. I think it was one with the pink lines that pop up. I remember feeling very odd when I saw the result. Sitting there on the closed lid of the toilet. Excited, light-headed, and scared shitless. Ted and I had agreed we were open to the concept, but truth be told, we weren’t exactly trying that hard. The truth is, I may have been trying hardly. I was always aprehensive about the hugeness of being a parent. But, after almost 2 years of no safety nets, one finally hit the target.

You would think I rushed immediately downstairs to tell Ted, but I did not. I am not a mean bitch. I just felt it was not the coolest time to drop the bomb. I mean, he was headed out the door to work. Not really enough time to sit together and talk about it. Let it sink in a little. I was on my way to a dentist appointment so I decided I would buy one more pee stick and just be really sure.

So, I get to the dentist and the hygienist informs me it’s time for more x-rays. It always seems to be time for more x-rays, by the way. Of course, this raises the flag: pregnant women should not be x-rayed. I had to tell her. She got the news before my husband did. I felt kind of crappy about that, but I got over it. She’s a stranger and it totally made her feel special, so who cares. I had time to kill afterward so I bought more pee sticks and went on to work.

Work was wierd that day as you can imagine. I totally fought the urge to use a pee stick in the office facility. I had to wait all day long and when I got home, I ran straight to the bathroom and did it again. Yup. Pregnant. Holy shit. I took the pee stick downstairs (I wiped it off, I promise) and I just handed it to Ted. Didn’t say anything. Too funny for words. I wish I had that moment on video. He was on his computer and he took it from me. It didn’t register immediately, but when it did the look he got was priceless. I really wish I could recall exactly what he said to me. It was something like: “Are you serious?”, or “Oh my God! Really?”, or “Is there still time for me to take it back?” Just kidding about that last one.

That was sometime just after Christmas and New Year’s Eve of 2007. We figure conception was around December 15-23 of 2006. KC came along on September 14, 2007. Her actual due date was September 11. Not a horrible thing, but I’m sure you will understand why we were kind of glad she waited a few days. That was the start of a really good pregnancy. I’ll come up with some more good moments and share them as this blog rolls along.

Random thought for you:

Apparently I like to write “pee stick”. Ever see that commercial for the digital pee stick? Not sure what brand. Probably Clear Blue Easy. It has the stick against a black backdrop and then a big stream of liquid comes down in slow-mo and hits the stick. A serious, manly voice says something like, “The most advanced piece of technology you will ever pee on.” or something similar. I loved it! Made me crack up every time. Ever notice they occasionally ran that ad and it was slightly different? It somehow left out a small part about peeing on a stick. Odd. I wonder if they felt it was offensive or gross to some audiences? Maybe someone complained. I’d like to meet that person so I can slap them accross the face.