anna is reaching somewhat successfully for things now--she seems to have understood how her arms and hands are for, and now when i hold her, she holds on. this may not sound earth-shattering, but there is nothing that feels so good as when a baby suddenly returns the hug. granted, her 'hug' is not infused with the same emotion as mine, and is more of a 'oh thank god, mom is here and i am not alone' but it is still a wonderful recognition.
she can obviously see more now too--when she is awake, her eyes are wide open (she has huge eyes), and she cranes her head around every way she can to take in her surroundings. and she makes tons of noises at us when we make eye contact. she does this funny thing in the back of her throat which is her first greeting, then she usually makes some coos and gurgles.
and her neck is getting strong. when she is on her tummy or on my shoulder, she can easily pick up her head and turn it the other way.
but the funniest thing is that she pumps her right leg up and down just like ava used to. when she is getting her diaper changed, she looks like she is pretending to ride a scooter or skateboard. she is starting to look more like ava too. though she still looks like she might be more of a redhead. i don't know why, because her hair is not really red, but there is something about her coloring that makes me think that. it might have to do with the red stork bites on her eyelids. when those fade, i think we might have a better idea of what/who she is going to look like.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
anna lost her umblical cord stump yesterday. now we can have real baths! her first one was today and despite the initial grimace, once she got over the shock, she adored it.
today i was driving carter home, and he said "mommy, how do people get up there?"
"where honey?"
"up there, where they play that game"
(???)
"what game?"
"that game where people wear shorts"
(??? now, it is still winter here, so i can see absolutely no visual cues to what he might be thinking of)
"shorts? can you tell me more about the game?"
"yes, shorts...you know...oh, what is it...TENNIS! yes, tennis! mom, how do you get to that tennis court?"
he had spotted the fence of a court high on a hill, a court i have NEVER registered as existing, despite driving by it daily. i told where the door was, and then, of course, he announced that he wanted to play. i guess we need to get some shorts.
tonight was the science fair at school. ava had a blast. though i made her wear her uniform which apparently was not required. she was a bit mad at me for that for 10 seconds, then was drawn into the hustle and bustle. more on her project later...
before we left though, she maade anna a dress. she chose to glue it, vs sew, in order to save time, but she really, honestly fashioned a dress out of felt for her. and she was VERY PROUD.
today i was driving carter home, and he said "mommy, how do people get up there?"
"where honey?"
"up there, where they play that game"
(???)
"what game?"
"that game where people wear shorts"
(??? now, it is still winter here, so i can see absolutely no visual cues to what he might be thinking of)
"shorts? can you tell me more about the game?"
"yes, shorts...you know...oh, what is it...TENNIS! yes, tennis! mom, how do you get to that tennis court?"
he had spotted the fence of a court high on a hill, a court i have NEVER registered as existing, despite driving by it daily. i told where the door was, and then, of course, he announced that he wanted to play. i guess we need to get some shorts.
tonight was the science fair at school. ava had a blast. though i made her wear her uniform which apparently was not required. she was a bit mad at me for that for 10 seconds, then was drawn into the hustle and bustle. more on her project later...
before we left though, she maade anna a dress. she chose to glue it, vs sew, in order to save time, but she really, honestly fashioned a dress out of felt for her. and she was VERY PROUD.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
it is mud season. carter is very pleased about this. mom, not so much. however, both kids are so ready to be outside, i grit my teeth, put them in their waterproof rain pants, warm coat, mittens (rolling my eyes at this step, since it will be all of 5 minutes before tehy are soaked), and boots and off to the playground we go. most of the playgrounds are drying up, but they all have some spectacular puddles, and after an hour or 2 we return home where i chase them up the stairs to the house, saying "do NOT go inside until every last stitch of muddy clothing is off!"
given that i have an infant, sometimes it is a good 4 hours until i remember about the pile of muddy clothes outside our front door, and i cringe at what the neighbors think.
speaking of said infant, she is definitely getting longer and bigger and more engaged. she has spent lots of time just looking around, curious, and she continues to coo at the radiator. she is desperately trying to reach for things, and spends a lot of time concentrating on her hands -- without looking at them though. occasionally her hand will make its way to her cheek, and she will freeze, contemplating this new coordination of touch--2 surfaces communicating to her brain. and she is getting stronger--when she is lying down on her tummy, she can pick her head up and turn it from one side to the other, and when she is on my shoulder, sometimes she will pick her head up to turn and look at me. she also has been more responsive to my arrival when she wants to be retrieved from her bouncy seat, and seems to have begun to snuggle a little. of all 3 kids, she appears to have the fairest skin--carter is obviously the darkest, with his father's olive skin, and ava has nearly translucent skin, but it has a warm cast to it, that seems to be due to some yellow undertones like mom, but anna has superbly fair skin--with blue undertones, i think. it obviously remains to be seen, but her hands are incredibly porcelain-ish.
and, if i may say so (after 2 kids that look nothing like me, i think it is fair for me to say so), there is something that i cannot put my finger on that makes me think she actually might look like me. albeit with different coloring.
and the other thing that she has developed is the genuine crumply lower lip. she used to just holler, but it was not distressing--it was just indescriminate noise creation stating a need. but now, if she is startled or something hurts, she will first crumple up her lip and before she cries will sort of say "mmmmmmmmmm....aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!" and then truly cry. it nearly makes me cry all the time.
both kids continue to adore her. phew.
given that i have an infant, sometimes it is a good 4 hours until i remember about the pile of muddy clothes outside our front door, and i cringe at what the neighbors think.
speaking of said infant, she is definitely getting longer and bigger and more engaged. she has spent lots of time just looking around, curious, and she continues to coo at the radiator. she is desperately trying to reach for things, and spends a lot of time concentrating on her hands -- without looking at them though. occasionally her hand will make its way to her cheek, and she will freeze, contemplating this new coordination of touch--2 surfaces communicating to her brain. and she is getting stronger--when she is lying down on her tummy, she can pick her head up and turn it from one side to the other, and when she is on my shoulder, sometimes she will pick her head up to turn and look at me. she also has been more responsive to my arrival when she wants to be retrieved from her bouncy seat, and seems to have begun to snuggle a little. of all 3 kids, she appears to have the fairest skin--carter is obviously the darkest, with his father's olive skin, and ava has nearly translucent skin, but it has a warm cast to it, that seems to be due to some yellow undertones like mom, but anna has superbly fair skin--with blue undertones, i think. it obviously remains to be seen, but her hands are incredibly porcelain-ish.
and, if i may say so (after 2 kids that look nothing like me, i think it is fair for me to say so), there is something that i cannot put my finger on that makes me think she actually might look like me. albeit with different coloring.
and the other thing that she has developed is the genuine crumply lower lip. she used to just holler, but it was not distressing--it was just indescriminate noise creation stating a need. but now, if she is startled or something hurts, she will first crumple up her lip and before she cries will sort of say "mmmmmmmmmm....aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!" and then truly cry. it nearly makes me cry all the time.
both kids continue to adore her. phew.
Monday, March 16, 2009
anna is starting to uncurl herself and take stock of her new surroundings. like carter, she was unwilling to disengage from her cherished fetal position, preferring to huddle her scrawny limbs -- just like his were -- to her warm body. ava as absolutely not like that. she came out of me and immediately stretched herself to her full length, looking around her with eyes that pretty much said "oh, thank god i can finally move...now, what is this place all about??" carter and anna spent a week avoiding their new reality, enjoying the comfort of sleep. but now, anna has decided that she sort of finds being awake interesting, and most enjoys looking at the radiator next to her changing spot. it of course is a pattern of vertical stripes, and she just adors it. she will stare and stare at it, occasionally making a gurglng sound of pleasure, sometimes pursing her lips in a teeny tiny little "o," while her eyes open as far as they can, and then every once in a while a squeal will come out. it's really cute. when i get down next to her, face to face, she does the same thing, and she is clearly starting to recognize everyone else.
she is being doted on 24/7 by everyone. she is everyone's little girl and it is very cute. ava and carter cannot stop nuzzling and kissing and petting her.
her stork bites are sort of starting to fade--hopefully the one on her eyelid mellows out. right now it does give her eye a bit of a swollen look, but her weight gain is starting to show--her face is rounding out a bit, and she is losing the wrinkled newborn look. she was weighed today and came in at 8 lbs, 7 oz, so she has gained a pound in a week, which is superb. i am not sure what her eyes are going to do. they look pretty blue still, but every once in a while the light catches them and i wonder if i see a change towards a different color. still too soon to tell. but my favorite thing is that she squeaks in her sleep. it is this inhale of breath that she does that makes a high pitched squeak, and it looks like she does it when dreaming.
her fingers and toes are ridiculously long. again, like carter. ava had puppy hands. the younger 2 have very delicate hands. anna's toes are by far the longest i have ever seen. of her entire foot length, i swear they are at least 1/3. i have long toes, but these are crazy.
as for myself, i feel superb. i had no idea how awful i had been feeling until she was no longer inside. my appetite is back, and all i want are high-nutrient veggie-type foods vs the steady diet of dry cheerios that i had in the last few weeks of my pregnancy. i am so pleased to finally be hungry again, to not be nauseous, to not be dry heaving throughout every day, to be able to feel like exercising, to not have a stuffed up nose, to wake up and be motivated to get up and do things, vs beg to stay in bed, to just feel healthy. we all walked around the lake 2 days in a row, celebrating the great weather, and i could not believe how great it felt. i pushed 100 lbs of kids/stroller weight and kept thinking how just a few weeks ago that would have been virtually impossible. and my ankles are no longer swollen. admittedly, that was a postpartum issue, not a pregnancy thing, but wow. when your ankles and feet swell to the point of not being able to distinguish or feel a bone anywhere, it is really upsetting. granted, the loss of that extra fluid occurs mostly at night, and i tend to wake up in an absolute puddle of sweat, but i figure people pay good money for the chance to sweat out toxins in a little hot room, why should i complain if my body chooses to do it for free in my comfy bed? the only down side is if i don't have time to shower before taking ava to school. then it is not such an advantage.
she is being doted on 24/7 by everyone. she is everyone's little girl and it is very cute. ava and carter cannot stop nuzzling and kissing and petting her.
her stork bites are sort of starting to fade--hopefully the one on her eyelid mellows out. right now it does give her eye a bit of a swollen look, but her weight gain is starting to show--her face is rounding out a bit, and she is losing the wrinkled newborn look. she was weighed today and came in at 8 lbs, 7 oz, so she has gained a pound in a week, which is superb. i am not sure what her eyes are going to do. they look pretty blue still, but every once in a while the light catches them and i wonder if i see a change towards a different color. still too soon to tell. but my favorite thing is that she squeaks in her sleep. it is this inhale of breath that she does that makes a high pitched squeak, and it looks like she does it when dreaming.
her fingers and toes are ridiculously long. again, like carter. ava had puppy hands. the younger 2 have very delicate hands. anna's toes are by far the longest i have ever seen. of her entire foot length, i swear they are at least 1/3. i have long toes, but these are crazy.
as for myself, i feel superb. i had no idea how awful i had been feeling until she was no longer inside. my appetite is back, and all i want are high-nutrient veggie-type foods vs the steady diet of dry cheerios that i had in the last few weeks of my pregnancy. i am so pleased to finally be hungry again, to not be nauseous, to not be dry heaving throughout every day, to be able to feel like exercising, to not have a stuffed up nose, to wake up and be motivated to get up and do things, vs beg to stay in bed, to just feel healthy. we all walked around the lake 2 days in a row, celebrating the great weather, and i could not believe how great it felt. i pushed 100 lbs of kids/stroller weight and kept thinking how just a few weeks ago that would have been virtually impossible. and my ankles are no longer swollen. admittedly, that was a postpartum issue, not a pregnancy thing, but wow. when your ankles and feet swell to the point of not being able to distinguish or feel a bone anywhere, it is really upsetting. granted, the loss of that extra fluid occurs mostly at night, and i tend to wake up in an absolute puddle of sweat, but i figure people pay good money for the chance to sweat out toxins in a little hot room, why should i complain if my body chooses to do it for free in my comfy bed? the only down side is if i don't have time to shower before taking ava to school. then it is not such an advantage.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
not that i am complaining, but ava's art projects are completely taking over our house. as noted a couple of times before, she is not a 2-dimensional sort of gal. oh, no. paintings and drawings are fine, but she won't spontaneously sit down and do them (however, she will write notes and tape them all over the house--currently we have "hape estr estr bune love ava and carter" on our front door--what i love about these is that she does not ask for my help in spelling. she just does her best to figure it out, and it serves as a nice kesson in how many silent letters we have in our language, as well as how her ear hears certain words. for a long time, she thought "and" was just "ad." this is helpful when trying to teach her). but, if she is given her choice, what she would really like to do is make things. in the past 2 weeks or so, she has made 2 vases out of selzer bottles, in which she asked us to cut off the top, then tape the sharp part with duct tape, then she glues flower petals to the bottle. all entirely her idea. then there are the 4 plastic strawberry containers filled with rose petals drying on her dresser, we have 2 yogurt containers with rose seeds in them on the counter for planting later this year, and today she decided to cover a large yogurt container with yellow paper, then cut up a seltzer bottle into little 1/2 inch squares of plastic, which she is now gluing on top of the yellow paper, in a clear mosaic effect. this is also all her idea--and is based on a candle holder she saw in the indian restaurant that she and i went to (where she enthusiastically ate 2 plates of basmati rice, nothing else, and declared herself a fan of indian food. we'll have to work on that). then of course we have what seems like hundreds of "supply" containers--full of glue and water, water and soap (no idea what that one is for), empty tea boxes filled with a variety of things, and on and on and on.
carter, for his part is far more interested in things like mazes, and painting, and drawing. but his absolute favorite is tape, scissors and glue. most of his creations are easily hung on the walls, but the fall out from the effort is distressing. i am so tired of little pieces of paper all over the floor, but hey, when he announces "mom! i made pants for santa!" (out of black construction paper) all the vacuuming is worth it.
carter, for his part is far more interested in things like mazes, and painting, and drawing. but his absolute favorite is tape, scissors and glue. most of his creations are easily hung on the walls, but the fall out from the effort is distressing. i am so tired of little pieces of paper all over the floor, but hey, when he announces "mom! i made pants for santa!" (out of black construction paper) all the vacuuming is worth it.
One week:
Anna is now one week old, and we are starting to have a little routine. Well, routine is a strong word, but we are all getting used to each other. She went on her first outing to the skating arena on Sunday, and that worked out ok, as I had her in the Bjorn and she was still pretty happy to just sleep. However, chasing after Carter when he was finished skating and Ava was still on the ice was a tad complicated. On Monday, I took her to Ava’s drop off, where Ava was so anxious to introduce Anna to everyone. I was panicked over the germs floating around that cinderblock petri dish, but we managed to get in and out before the hordes arrived. Both kids are desperate to show off the baby to anyone willing to look. This is so great—they both have an instinctive pride and protective drive which is a huge relief. That afternoon, Carter managed to cut his head on a table, and we had to go to the urgent care center for steri strips and glue, and as a result we did not go to skating. Carter was relieved to not have stitches, though he hates the glue. To quote him exactly: “Mom! The glue is KILLING me!” We continued to tackle school on Tuesday and Wednesday, though Ava regressed a bit and did not want to go—we had some tears on those mornings. It has been such a difficult winter navigating the kindergarten substitute snafu, and I am so close to losing my temper over it. However, it is literally less than 10 hours of classroom time before it is over, so we are just going to weather the storm. On Thursday, the kids had a half day (really a 2-hour day) and then Ava went to Drama Club, a new activity. As predicted, she loved it. Has not stopped talking about it. It helps that she gets to be a unicorn, and they sing “Do you believe in magic…” (a song I am now very tired of hearing in my head for hours every night as I try to go to sleep). Then, in a display of parenting skills I am very proud of, I managed to take all three kids out to lunch and to the arena for Ava to work on her routine for a total of 3 hours. It was truly exhausting, but I managed it without any huge issues. Friday was spent at home, very peacefully getting through all of the requisite chores, a pace I definitely appreciated. I have noticed that if we have things to do/places to go, then usually one major task gets ignored for the day. Which is fine, but it is a great feeling to feel like everything has been accomplished, even if that includes just getting fingernails clipped. Each evening, I am completely physically exhausted, but it is such a great feeling to be that sort of tired instead of pregnancy tired.
Anna is now one week old, and we are starting to have a little routine. Well, routine is a strong word, but we are all getting used to each other. She went on her first outing to the skating arena on Sunday, and that worked out ok, as I had her in the Bjorn and she was still pretty happy to just sleep. However, chasing after Carter when he was finished skating and Ava was still on the ice was a tad complicated. On Monday, I took her to Ava’s drop off, where Ava was so anxious to introduce Anna to everyone. I was panicked over the germs floating around that cinderblock petri dish, but we managed to get in and out before the hordes arrived. Both kids are desperate to show off the baby to anyone willing to look. This is so great—they both have an instinctive pride and protective drive which is a huge relief. That afternoon, Carter managed to cut his head on a table, and we had to go to the urgent care center for steri strips and glue, and as a result we did not go to skating. Carter was relieved to not have stitches, though he hates the glue. To quote him exactly: “Mom! The glue is KILLING me!” We continued to tackle school on Tuesday and Wednesday, though Ava regressed a bit and did not want to go—we had some tears on those mornings. It has been such a difficult winter navigating the kindergarten substitute snafu, and I am so close to losing my temper over it. However, it is literally less than 10 hours of classroom time before it is over, so we are just going to weather the storm. On Thursday, the kids had a half day (really a 2-hour day) and then Ava went to Drama Club, a new activity. As predicted, she loved it. Has not stopped talking about it. It helps that she gets to be a unicorn, and they sing “Do you believe in magic…” (a song I am now very tired of hearing in my head for hours every night as I try to go to sleep). Then, in a display of parenting skills I am very proud of, I managed to take all three kids out to lunch and to the arena for Ava to work on her routine for a total of 3 hours. It was truly exhausting, but I managed it without any huge issues. Friday was spent at home, very peacefully getting through all of the requisite chores, a pace I definitely appreciated. I have noticed that if we have things to do/places to go, then usually one major task gets ignored for the day. Which is fine, but it is a great feeling to feel like everything has been accomplished, even if that includes just getting fingernails clipped. Each evening, I am completely physically exhausted, but it is such a great feeling to be that sort of tired instead of pregnancy tired.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
The story, continued…
On Friday morning, at some point the pediatrician came in to check Anna (as yet unnamed). He confirmed that I was nursing her, and said “I understand that you have done this before?” And I said yes, and then he asked how long I had nursed the other 2 kids. When I said four and a half and three and a half years, he pretty much exploded with excitement. He literally could not contain his glee. “That’s SO great!” he kept saying. The statistics regarding nursing just kept pouring out of him. Peter found it to be so funny. He said later, “it must have been great to get that sort of recognition and confirmation from him” and I agreed. It is nice to have the backing of the doctors, though I have never had any of the difficulties or judgment that other women have experienced. Several hours after she was born, they got me up for a shower and to move me to a postpartum room. Walking after an epidural is very strange. I managed to do it, but only a few steps. I was cleaned up, moved to a teeny tiny postpartum room, and that was where Peter and I absolutely collapsed into the deepest sleep ever. Anna was on Peter’s chest, and I really remember very little. Later in the day, the kids and Nana joined us, and it was a really amazing moment to sit on the bed with all 3 kids. They were both so excited and so happy to see her, and it was just perfect. Both of them were completely excited to see the baby. Then the kids and Peter left to go to the hotel, Nana went back home, and I fell asleep for 12 hours, interrupted of course by the mandatory checks of my vitals and the baby’s vitals.
The next day, I was hot to trot to go home. My doctor gave me the thumbs up, and then the pediatrician came in. It was a different doctor this time, and I had been warned that he was pretty conservative about letting babies go home a day early. But somehow, despite my frumpled hospital-gown, messy hair, clearly not pulled together state, I managed to convince him of my competence as a mother, and he decided to let me go. So, all that was left to do was get my rhogam shot, take care of some other details, and of course, name the baby. Peter and the kids arrived, Ava decided to hang out with me, and Peter took Carter back to the hotel to swim for the morning. And thus began a series of conference calls, all in an effort to come to a 4-way agreement on what this child should be named. We managed to all agree on Anna for a first name, and then it took another 2 hours or so of wrangling over a middle name. Meanwhile, I was absolutely desperate to get out of the hospital, and I was feeling more and more like a caged animal. Finally we agreed on Sophia, and we were able to complete the paperwork, much to the relief of the administrative staff. Somehow we managed to get out of the hospital, and on our way home.
Once home, there were a series of events that triggered the release of all of Ava’s pent up exhaustion and stress, which was pretty vast, given that she had held it together for 48 hours straight, despite the pretty real trauma of Mom disappearing, and she completely melted. We managed to repair the damage, get some dinner into her, and hustle the kids into bed. The following morning, all was fine again. And then the task of figuring ourselves out as a family of five actually began.
On Friday morning, at some point the pediatrician came in to check Anna (as yet unnamed). He confirmed that I was nursing her, and said “I understand that you have done this before?” And I said yes, and then he asked how long I had nursed the other 2 kids. When I said four and a half and three and a half years, he pretty much exploded with excitement. He literally could not contain his glee. “That’s SO great!” he kept saying. The statistics regarding nursing just kept pouring out of him. Peter found it to be so funny. He said later, “it must have been great to get that sort of recognition and confirmation from him” and I agreed. It is nice to have the backing of the doctors, though I have never had any of the difficulties or judgment that other women have experienced. Several hours after she was born, they got me up for a shower and to move me to a postpartum room. Walking after an epidural is very strange. I managed to do it, but only a few steps. I was cleaned up, moved to a teeny tiny postpartum room, and that was where Peter and I absolutely collapsed into the deepest sleep ever. Anna was on Peter’s chest, and I really remember very little. Later in the day, the kids and Nana joined us, and it was a really amazing moment to sit on the bed with all 3 kids. They were both so excited and so happy to see her, and it was just perfect. Both of them were completely excited to see the baby. Then the kids and Peter left to go to the hotel, Nana went back home, and I fell asleep for 12 hours, interrupted of course by the mandatory checks of my vitals and the baby’s vitals.
The next day, I was hot to trot to go home. My doctor gave me the thumbs up, and then the pediatrician came in. It was a different doctor this time, and I had been warned that he was pretty conservative about letting babies go home a day early. But somehow, despite my frumpled hospital-gown, messy hair, clearly not pulled together state, I managed to convince him of my competence as a mother, and he decided to let me go. So, all that was left to do was get my rhogam shot, take care of some other details, and of course, name the baby. Peter and the kids arrived, Ava decided to hang out with me, and Peter took Carter back to the hotel to swim for the morning. And thus began a series of conference calls, all in an effort to come to a 4-way agreement on what this child should be named. We managed to all agree on Anna for a first name, and then it took another 2 hours or so of wrangling over a middle name. Meanwhile, I was absolutely desperate to get out of the hospital, and I was feeling more and more like a caged animal. Finally we agreed on Sophia, and we were able to complete the paperwork, much to the relief of the administrative staff. Somehow we managed to get out of the hospital, and on our way home.
Once home, there were a series of events that triggered the release of all of Ava’s pent up exhaustion and stress, which was pretty vast, given that she had held it together for 48 hours straight, despite the pretty real trauma of Mom disappearing, and she completely melted. We managed to repair the damage, get some dinner into her, and hustle the kids into bed. The following morning, all was fine again. And then the task of figuring ourselves out as a family of five actually began.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The birth story…and it is not for the squeamish!
On Wednesday, March 4, I had my 40-week check up. By that point I was 2 days over my “official” due date, and 4 days over my personal calculations. Ava and I went to Plattsburgh, where I had an ultrasound and a non-stress test, before seeing Dr. Dodge. Ultrasound was fine, though my fluid was low. NST was also fine. When I saw the doctor, he noted the low fluid, said that it was somewhat expected given that I was 40 weeks, and if I had not delivered by the following Monday, we should repeat the scan. Fine by me. Then he checked me, and I was 90% effaced and 3 cm. He said “I don’t think you will make it to Monday.” He stripped my membranes, apologized for the discomfort, and I said “it did not hurt like last time,” and he said “that means that you are getting there.”
Ava and I left, went out to lunch, where we ran into the midwife that had delivered Ava. As she does not practice in Plattsburgh, this was really weird. I took it as a sign. While we were there, I felt this sudden rush of fluid, and thought “maybe that was my water breaking.” But I had felt similar things before and it had not been my water breaking, so I basically ignored it, thinking that if it was my water, then more would follow. That afternoon I was increasingly uncomfortable, but nothing terrible. We all went to skating, and came home and went to bed. At 2:30 AM, Ava woke me up, and I realized that I was really uncomfortable. I dozed until 3:30, when I felt a few terrible contractions in my lower back. I got up and when I went to the bathroom, another gush of fluid. This time I was pretty sure it was amniotic fluid. I sort of waited around in the bedroom, trying to figure out if things were getting more intense or if I should go back to sleep. By 4 AM, I knew something was up. It felt like everything was one big contraction. I was unable to figure out when individual contractions started and ended, but I was not incapacitated or anything. I called my mother, told her to come over, and then waited a bit longer to wake Peter. By the time I did, I was definitely feeling awful. The contractions were still hard to differentiate, but something was most certainly brewing. My mother finally arrived, she took over at home, and we left for the hospital in her car. (Our cars were parked down the road—it may be a small town, but parking is almost as difficult as San Francisco. Taking my mother’s car alleviated a huge parking dilemma). I was very relieved to have left without the kids waking up.
I could not find my purse when we left, nor could I get my overnight bags because they were in the bedroom with the kids, so all I had were the clothes on my back, which were none too pretty. And I was wearing my slippers. We had not even left the village of Lake Placid (which is basically 1 street—Main Street) when I said “I have to throw up!” Peter screeched to a halt, I tumbled out of the car and stood there, vomiting on the sidewalk. It was not attractive. My slippers were now splattered, I had nothing to wipe myself off with, but boy did I feel better. Back in the car, off to Plattsburgh. Five minutes later, Peter realized that he did not have the charger for his phone. He asked if we could go back. I said fine, and we turned around. He retrieved the charger from his car, and off we went. Again. Turning out of the parking lot, his coffee cup tipped over and spilled cold coffee all over me. Basically I was sitting in a pool of coffee. He started insisting that we had to go get new pants for me, and I said “get me to the hospital.” So he got napkins for me and we started down the road again. Ten minutes later, I told him that he had to pull over, I had to throw up again. By that point, we were just past the spot where we had turned around to go get the charger. I threw up a little more, and we started to go again. 20 minutes after that, I had to throw up again. This time, I managed to simultaneously pee all over myself. Now I had vomit, coffee, and pee on my outfit. This routine of throwing up did not stop until we reached the hospital, where Peter got me a wheelchair and the ER nurses looked at me like I was an alien when he rolled me in. Peter said “can you take her to labor and delivery?” and I swear they just started at us. This had not been our experience the last time we were there, so it was terribly disconcerting to be treated with such nonchalance. We went up and then the nurses in L&D also looked at me like I was an apparition, and I said “please can I get in a bed?”
They showed me to my room, gave me a gown and I went into the bathroom where I promptly discarded my clothes, weighed myself per the nurse’s request and fell into the bed.
Peter insisted that they call IV therapy, which is what I asked him to do, but he described the sticking of my veins when I was in for the last hospital stay in front of the poor nurse that had caused me so much pain, unbeknownst to him. But IV therapy came, and they started me on fluids. Almost immediately I started to feel better. For some reason, during the last few weeks of the pregnancy, I just could not stay hydrated. No matter how much water I drank. I was really put through the wringer with this one. Anyway, the next shift started, and they tested me to see if my water had broken. It had. So now I had 24 hours to get into “active labor” – this is described as being 4 cm dilated. At the moment I was still 3 cm and 90% effaced. And then we all spent the rest of the day staring at one another. I was not in labor, nor was I not not in labor. I did have these patterns of contractions that are described as an “irritable uterus,” which does nothing for dilating you. My room had no window, so I dozed periodically throughout the day. I was starving, but only on clear liquids, and lunch was broth, an orange popsicle, and jello. The popsicle was the best thing I had ever tasted. I could not really take the other stuff. I had been put on IV antibiotics shortly after they had determined that my water was broken, since I was strep B positive, and that had resulted in a terrible metallic taste in my mouth. Having worked in drug safety, I remember thinking, “huh…this is an AE (adverse event)!” No one seemed to be at all concerned about that element of the event, but I desperately tried to initiate a conversation about it. However, later that afternoon, they brought me my second dose and hooked me up, and within a few minutes, I felt a sharp pain in my arm. I assumed it was a problem with the IV and looked at my arm, only to realize that the pain was higher than the IV, and tracing a pretty distinct path up my arm—a path that I assumed was my vein. It was a burning sensation, and despite my immediate concern, I also thought “wow! another AE!” Then I hit the call button. When they responded, I said “um, there is a strong burning sensation in my arm…” and they said they would be right there. Apparently this is also common, and it was described to me as a result of the first IV having “primed” the vein (ie damaging it), and the second causing the burning sensation (because the tissue was damaged, and being further damaged). The antibiotics were described as “hell on veins.” But when I asked if it was an allergic type reaction, she said no. It did not inspire a lot of confidence, but she flushed it and let it go in very slowly. I asked for another popsicle, and then shortly thereafter, around 4 PM, I started to feel crappy again. Sure enough, I puked. This time I had a basin.
The nausea only got worse over the next few hours, and then my irritable uterus got its act together and finally started to labor. From about 7 PM to 11 PM things just got more intense, on a steady upward slope, and then suddenly, around 11:30, something shifted and the pain went into my back and seemed to be nonstop. I recognized the pain from the contractions that I had with Carter, and they were contractions that really made you feel like pushing, and I know that is what got me in trouble with him. Suddenly I was scared. This probably did not help. But they were so intense and I really did not want to end up not progressing like I had with him. (Because the urge to push had been so strong with him, I had just pushed, but since his head was not engaged, all it did was get my cervix to swell and pretty much block his exit route). I definitely panicked. I called in Kim, and she checked me. I was 4 cm dilated. That was when I begged for some sort of pain medicine. She offered me nubain to go in my IV. I said yes, not wanting the epidural. Not smart. Nubain is a narcotic. Narcotics and Erin are a very very poor combination. If I can avoid them, I do. As soon as that nubain hit, I became high as a kite, but all of my pain receptors were plenty alert. So now I was unable to think straight, but had no relief from the contractions. Then I became that woman yelling for the epidural.
The anesthesiologist was quick, to the point, efficient, and pretty soon I had an epidural. Despite feeling like it took forever, I was sound asleep within probably 15 minutes. Three and a half hours later they woke me up and checked me. Apparently I was fully dilated and effaced and it was time to push. I looked at them like they were nuts. Push? How??? I had no feeling in my legs. Kim assured me that I could do it, and they got me ready. Peter was on one side, a nurse was on the other, and Kim was in front of me, and sure enough, I could feel the contractions, and push I did. Now, I know this may sound crazy, but with Ava, I was unable to push effectively because I kept using my leg muscles—I could not isolate them out of the picture. This time, I could not even summon them, so I was much better at the effort. Soon everyone started yelling that they could see the head. Kim had me reach down, and I felt her head, an unbelievable experience. Then, Kim told me to look down, and I was able to see the top of her head crowning. The whole time, Peter was in a state of astonishment. I remember that from Ava’s birth, but it is pretty neat to witness your husband reduced to near speechlessness—the intensity of the moment was very memorable. I think I remember him saying “oh, wow.” And then Kim had me push really hard, and she said “reach down and take her!” And I pulled little Anna out and up onto my chest and there she was—everyone was rubbing her and suctioning her and she was squeaking and then finally she started to really cry. At some point Peter cut the cord and said that it was really tough, and then they took her to the warmer and did everything they do. They brought her back to me, and she instantly nursed. I was floored by how she latched on, and realized that she might be giving Ava a run for her money as The Nursing Champion of the World. At some point I delivered the placenta, but I don’t remember that, and I know I had no tears, so no stitches. The next few hours are a blur. I assume I slept, but I cannot remember. All I know is that I could not have asked for a better experience, and I am so grateful for the chance to have a VBAC.
On Wednesday, March 4, I had my 40-week check up. By that point I was 2 days over my “official” due date, and 4 days over my personal calculations. Ava and I went to Plattsburgh, where I had an ultrasound and a non-stress test, before seeing Dr. Dodge. Ultrasound was fine, though my fluid was low. NST was also fine. When I saw the doctor, he noted the low fluid, said that it was somewhat expected given that I was 40 weeks, and if I had not delivered by the following Monday, we should repeat the scan. Fine by me. Then he checked me, and I was 90% effaced and 3 cm. He said “I don’t think you will make it to Monday.” He stripped my membranes, apologized for the discomfort, and I said “it did not hurt like last time,” and he said “that means that you are getting there.”
Ava and I left, went out to lunch, where we ran into the midwife that had delivered Ava. As she does not practice in Plattsburgh, this was really weird. I took it as a sign. While we were there, I felt this sudden rush of fluid, and thought “maybe that was my water breaking.” But I had felt similar things before and it had not been my water breaking, so I basically ignored it, thinking that if it was my water, then more would follow. That afternoon I was increasingly uncomfortable, but nothing terrible. We all went to skating, and came home and went to bed. At 2:30 AM, Ava woke me up, and I realized that I was really uncomfortable. I dozed until 3:30, when I felt a few terrible contractions in my lower back. I got up and when I went to the bathroom, another gush of fluid. This time I was pretty sure it was amniotic fluid. I sort of waited around in the bedroom, trying to figure out if things were getting more intense or if I should go back to sleep. By 4 AM, I knew something was up. It felt like everything was one big contraction. I was unable to figure out when individual contractions started and ended, but I was not incapacitated or anything. I called my mother, told her to come over, and then waited a bit longer to wake Peter. By the time I did, I was definitely feeling awful. The contractions were still hard to differentiate, but something was most certainly brewing. My mother finally arrived, she took over at home, and we left for the hospital in her car. (Our cars were parked down the road—it may be a small town, but parking is almost as difficult as San Francisco. Taking my mother’s car alleviated a huge parking dilemma). I was very relieved to have left without the kids waking up.
I could not find my purse when we left, nor could I get my overnight bags because they were in the bedroom with the kids, so all I had were the clothes on my back, which were none too pretty. And I was wearing my slippers. We had not even left the village of Lake Placid (which is basically 1 street—Main Street) when I said “I have to throw up!” Peter screeched to a halt, I tumbled out of the car and stood there, vomiting on the sidewalk. It was not attractive. My slippers were now splattered, I had nothing to wipe myself off with, but boy did I feel better. Back in the car, off to Plattsburgh. Five minutes later, Peter realized that he did not have the charger for his phone. He asked if we could go back. I said fine, and we turned around. He retrieved the charger from his car, and off we went. Again. Turning out of the parking lot, his coffee cup tipped over and spilled cold coffee all over me. Basically I was sitting in a pool of coffee. He started insisting that we had to go get new pants for me, and I said “get me to the hospital.” So he got napkins for me and we started down the road again. Ten minutes later, I told him that he had to pull over, I had to throw up again. By that point, we were just past the spot where we had turned around to go get the charger. I threw up a little more, and we started to go again. 20 minutes after that, I had to throw up again. This time, I managed to simultaneously pee all over myself. Now I had vomit, coffee, and pee on my outfit. This routine of throwing up did not stop until we reached the hospital, where Peter got me a wheelchair and the ER nurses looked at me like I was an alien when he rolled me in. Peter said “can you take her to labor and delivery?” and I swear they just started at us. This had not been our experience the last time we were there, so it was terribly disconcerting to be treated with such nonchalance. We went up and then the nurses in L&D also looked at me like I was an apparition, and I said “please can I get in a bed?”
They showed me to my room, gave me a gown and I went into the bathroom where I promptly discarded my clothes, weighed myself per the nurse’s request and fell into the bed.
Peter insisted that they call IV therapy, which is what I asked him to do, but he described the sticking of my veins when I was in for the last hospital stay in front of the poor nurse that had caused me so much pain, unbeknownst to him. But IV therapy came, and they started me on fluids. Almost immediately I started to feel better. For some reason, during the last few weeks of the pregnancy, I just could not stay hydrated. No matter how much water I drank. I was really put through the wringer with this one. Anyway, the next shift started, and they tested me to see if my water had broken. It had. So now I had 24 hours to get into “active labor” – this is described as being 4 cm dilated. At the moment I was still 3 cm and 90% effaced. And then we all spent the rest of the day staring at one another. I was not in labor, nor was I not not in labor. I did have these patterns of contractions that are described as an “irritable uterus,” which does nothing for dilating you. My room had no window, so I dozed periodically throughout the day. I was starving, but only on clear liquids, and lunch was broth, an orange popsicle, and jello. The popsicle was the best thing I had ever tasted. I could not really take the other stuff. I had been put on IV antibiotics shortly after they had determined that my water was broken, since I was strep B positive, and that had resulted in a terrible metallic taste in my mouth. Having worked in drug safety, I remember thinking, “huh…this is an AE (adverse event)!” No one seemed to be at all concerned about that element of the event, but I desperately tried to initiate a conversation about it. However, later that afternoon, they brought me my second dose and hooked me up, and within a few minutes, I felt a sharp pain in my arm. I assumed it was a problem with the IV and looked at my arm, only to realize that the pain was higher than the IV, and tracing a pretty distinct path up my arm—a path that I assumed was my vein. It was a burning sensation, and despite my immediate concern, I also thought “wow! another AE!” Then I hit the call button. When they responded, I said “um, there is a strong burning sensation in my arm…” and they said they would be right there. Apparently this is also common, and it was described to me as a result of the first IV having “primed” the vein (ie damaging it), and the second causing the burning sensation (because the tissue was damaged, and being further damaged). The antibiotics were described as “hell on veins.” But when I asked if it was an allergic type reaction, she said no. It did not inspire a lot of confidence, but she flushed it and let it go in very slowly. I asked for another popsicle, and then shortly thereafter, around 4 PM, I started to feel crappy again. Sure enough, I puked. This time I had a basin.
The nausea only got worse over the next few hours, and then my irritable uterus got its act together and finally started to labor. From about 7 PM to 11 PM things just got more intense, on a steady upward slope, and then suddenly, around 11:30, something shifted and the pain went into my back and seemed to be nonstop. I recognized the pain from the contractions that I had with Carter, and they were contractions that really made you feel like pushing, and I know that is what got me in trouble with him. Suddenly I was scared. This probably did not help. But they were so intense and I really did not want to end up not progressing like I had with him. (Because the urge to push had been so strong with him, I had just pushed, but since his head was not engaged, all it did was get my cervix to swell and pretty much block his exit route). I definitely panicked. I called in Kim, and she checked me. I was 4 cm dilated. That was when I begged for some sort of pain medicine. She offered me nubain to go in my IV. I said yes, not wanting the epidural. Not smart. Nubain is a narcotic. Narcotics and Erin are a very very poor combination. If I can avoid them, I do. As soon as that nubain hit, I became high as a kite, but all of my pain receptors were plenty alert. So now I was unable to think straight, but had no relief from the contractions. Then I became that woman yelling for the epidural.
The anesthesiologist was quick, to the point, efficient, and pretty soon I had an epidural. Despite feeling like it took forever, I was sound asleep within probably 15 minutes. Three and a half hours later they woke me up and checked me. Apparently I was fully dilated and effaced and it was time to push. I looked at them like they were nuts. Push? How??? I had no feeling in my legs. Kim assured me that I could do it, and they got me ready. Peter was on one side, a nurse was on the other, and Kim was in front of me, and sure enough, I could feel the contractions, and push I did. Now, I know this may sound crazy, but with Ava, I was unable to push effectively because I kept using my leg muscles—I could not isolate them out of the picture. This time, I could not even summon them, so I was much better at the effort. Soon everyone started yelling that they could see the head. Kim had me reach down, and I felt her head, an unbelievable experience. Then, Kim told me to look down, and I was able to see the top of her head crowning. The whole time, Peter was in a state of astonishment. I remember that from Ava’s birth, but it is pretty neat to witness your husband reduced to near speechlessness—the intensity of the moment was very memorable. I think I remember him saying “oh, wow.” And then Kim had me push really hard, and she said “reach down and take her!” And I pulled little Anna out and up onto my chest and there she was—everyone was rubbing her and suctioning her and she was squeaking and then finally she started to really cry. At some point Peter cut the cord and said that it was really tough, and then they took her to the warmer and did everything they do. They brought her back to me, and she instantly nursed. I was floored by how she latched on, and realized that she might be giving Ava a run for her money as The Nursing Champion of the World. At some point I delivered the placenta, but I don’t remember that, and I know I had no tears, so no stitches. The next few hours are a blur. I assume I slept, but I cannot remember. All I know is that I could not have asked for a better experience, and I am so grateful for the chance to have a VBAC.
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