Sunday, April 29, 2007
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Little Green Lovey
Something this cute is hard to come by, and I'm not talking about Gwyneth, although she fits the description as well. These are the prized clothing possesions in Gwyneth's closet- the sweater and hat knit by Granny. Lots of grannies knit sweaters and hats, but with all honesty they usually look like something that a granny would want to wear, not a little baby. This is something that a baby would definitely want to wear..if it could communicate it clearly...and perhaps it's even something her granny would want to wear as well, I know I would.
Tongue Sucker - Gwyneth prefers to suck on her tongue while she sleeps. At least she can't lose it like the Nuk.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
Easter
Happy Easter from our new little bunny...as well as from the rest of us.
We hope you all had a wonderful Easter...although we weren't with extended family, we're a whole family in ourselves, so it was good anyway.
We hope you all had a wonderful Easter...although we weren't with extended family, we're a whole family in ourselves, so it was good anyway.
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
And Little G. Was Born
I faintly recall that I did at one point write in this blog that I would eventually post Gwyneth’s birth story. So I figure, I should keep my word and do that!
I often think about Gwyneth’s birth, almost with a longing of wanting to experience it all over again…strange I know, and yes, it did hurt, a lot, in a way I could never have been prepared for. It was so surreal, and now almost feels like it never ever happened! Anyway, to the meat of the story.
It seemed to me like I should just have some sort of instinctive sense that the birth of my baby was near. I found it hard to believe that I wouldn’t have some inkling that a day or two…or even hour or two before labor I would become aware that the baby was soon going to be in my arms. Because this “feeling” never occurred, you can imagine that as January 3rd was approaching I was quickly becoming frustrated, sure that the baby would NEVER come out, regardless as to how many times I told it that it was evicted.
On January 2nd, my mom arrived from out of town for some baby time, but there was no baby to have time with! She was sure that because of the full moon and the sheer size of my torpedo shaped belly I would have the baby the next day. After an uneventful evening of catching up on the news and opening belated Christmas presents, we got ready for bed.
Right as I got into bed, I had a few series of contractions about 10 minutes apart. I’ve had those contractions before and when they first began in the end of December, every handful I experienced I got hopeful that it could be it and they’d tucker out. By this time, I skipped the hopeful part and just accepted that these couldn’t be the contractions that would lead to me meeting the baby. I told Wes about them and he jokingly began to time them, and then out flipped the lights, heads on the pillows.
But the contractions kept coming for a while every 10 minutes. I decided to try and sleep, knowing that they would soon putter away. Well, they didn’t. At ll:30PM, I was beginning to think maybe it was it, but continued to stay in bed, decidedly to rest. By 1:20AM, I thought it was odd that they were still there. I had heard and read that changes in position, drinking water, getting up to walk around sometimes would get false labor to settle down, so up I got. I had a glass of water and walked around downstairs a bit, but they kept on coming. Being sort of a geek, I got on the computer and started an Excel spreadsheet so that I could enter in the time a contraction started and when it stopped and it would calculate to the second how long it lasted. I labored much of the night walking through the contractions and then sitting at the computer and entering in times and researching on the internet how to tell real labor from false labor. None of the information could tell me for sure that I was in labor.
About 5:30 in the morning, after contractions had become more than just mildly painful, I decided that this was probably the real deal and to wake up my sleeping sick husband to tell him he should start thinking about getting ready to go. In his half-asleep state, he didn’t really get it for a minute or two what I was trying to tell him, which of course confused me when I didn’t get much of a reaction. Then it finally dawned on him, I meant go to the hospital, go to the hospital to have a baby, our baby.
I wasn’t in much of a hurry, because it didn’t hurt too, too badly. I took a Tylenol and that seemed to help take off the edge. We left the house about 7AM and headed to the hospital. Of course all the roads seemed more bumpy than they had been before. As we were nearing the hospital, I thought my contractions were going away and I was sure that once they checked me, they’d send me back home.
We got to the hospital and they checked me in and shortly after my doctor arrived and checked me. I was 3cm dilated, I hit the magic number and I could stay. To this point I was able to handle the pain with coolness, not minding the cramps too much, but that all changed pretty quickly after the doctor broke my water (which is an interesting and alarming feeling in itself). The cramps turned from something that I could mostly handle to excruciating (feels like the belly is going to split open and the back break into pieces) and this is when the concept of time went out the window and the morning blurred into afternoon.
I wanted to birth without pain medication, so the nurse suggested that I step into a warm shower and see if that helped me through the pain. It didn’t. While in the shower, I made the decision for pain medication, wondering how I was even going to get from the shower to the hospital bed just to get it. I chose Stadol, a narcotic that helps control the pain by getting a mom totally dopey. Stadol is an IV drug. That’s fine and dandy when they can get an IV placed. My body was so stressed with the pain that all my veins had constricted, making it difficult on the nurses to place an IV. After blowing a few veins, they were able to place one on the sixth try. The many painful pokes of the IV needles was actually a welcome distraction from the contractions. Once the Stadol drip was going I was able to relax between contractions, but each contraction was just as difficult to work through. Once the contractions were coming about a minute apart and the Stadol was no longer able to get me restfully relaxed in between contractions, and I decided that I wanted and epidural and fast.
Had the anesthesiologist been in a surgery, or otherwise held up, I probably would have been too far dilated to get an epidural, but he was able to come in time. They say that you’re not supposed to move when getting an epidural to avoid spinal damage. The thought of being in writhing pain and required not to writhe is hard to accept, but knowing that function of the lower back and legs were potentially at risk, I got myself focused. Wes watched the whole thing as I was sitting on the bed with my arms clutching him so that I wouldn’t move when contractions struck. (According to Wes, the epidural is an interesting procedure to watch…the hugely long and wide gauged needle going into my spine.) Once the line for the drip was thread through the needle (that’s how wide it is!!!), the anesthesiologist gave me a fix. It was wonderful. A feeling of warmth quickly spread from my lower back to my toes; it was like stepping into a bath. I went from feeling like I was going to split in half to conversational. Wes and I even took in a bit of Cesar’s dog training tips on the Discovery Channel in the midst of heavy labor.
After a bit of time (an hour, hour and a half, two?) I started to feel my contractions again. They weren’t really painful, but it was a feeling of pressure. I figured they must just be getting really strong, glad that I had the epidural. It wasn’t long before the doctor came in to check me and lo and behold told me right away that I was at 10cm and ready to push! I was shocked! My baby was going to come out! It really was!
Doctor got changed out of her dress and into scrubs and the on call doctor was there as well. They said to push when I thought I was having a contraction…in the meantime they all had a jolly conversation with Wes, leaving me to try and guess if the pressure I was feeling was a contraction, and asking if I should start pushing again. Then they’d remember for a little bit that I was having a baby and count me through the push before they resumed the conversation. Oddly enough I didn’t really care that much, I was just concentrating on getting the baby out. The only time when they concentrated as much as I did was when the baby’s heartbeat dropped and I saw concern in the doctor’s faces. They watched the monitor for about a minute and then the heartbeat went back up, and all was fine. As the baby began to crown I felt pain. I knew that without an epidural, I would have quit then and there, the baby just on the verge of arrival. Focused on getting it out, I just kept pushing, and there was the head. The doctor told me to stop pushing for a moment, told me the baby had hair as she adjusted the baby and then I gave one last push and out came the rest of the body. I was told it was a girl and she was placed on my belly as they dried her off. I was shocked that there was my baby…the one I never expected to actually come out! It was dumbfounding, and there are no words to describe the emotion!
It was not until the baby was weighed and checked over that we gave her the name Gwyneth Noelle and I got all the gory details. The epidural needle was INCHES long, and a great bit of that went into my back, the baby’s heartbeat dropped because the cord was wrapped around Gwyneth’s neck, there was lots of blood, etc. Birth may not be pretty, but it is truly amazing and miraculous!
The result: another set of footprints to leave their impression on this earth - we pray a good one.
I often think about Gwyneth’s birth, almost with a longing of wanting to experience it all over again…strange I know, and yes, it did hurt, a lot, in a way I could never have been prepared for. It was so surreal, and now almost feels like it never ever happened! Anyway, to the meat of the story.
It seemed to me like I should just have some sort of instinctive sense that the birth of my baby was near. I found it hard to believe that I wouldn’t have some inkling that a day or two…or even hour or two before labor I would become aware that the baby was soon going to be in my arms. Because this “feeling” never occurred, you can imagine that as January 3rd was approaching I was quickly becoming frustrated, sure that the baby would NEVER come out, regardless as to how many times I told it that it was evicted.
On January 2nd, my mom arrived from out of town for some baby time, but there was no baby to have time with! She was sure that because of the full moon and the sheer size of my torpedo shaped belly I would have the baby the next day. After an uneventful evening of catching up on the news and opening belated Christmas presents, we got ready for bed.
Right as I got into bed, I had a few series of contractions about 10 minutes apart. I’ve had those contractions before and when they first began in the end of December, every handful I experienced I got hopeful that it could be it and they’d tucker out. By this time, I skipped the hopeful part and just accepted that these couldn’t be the contractions that would lead to me meeting the baby. I told Wes about them and he jokingly began to time them, and then out flipped the lights, heads on the pillows.
But the contractions kept coming for a while every 10 minutes. I decided to try and sleep, knowing that they would soon putter away. Well, they didn’t. At ll:30PM, I was beginning to think maybe it was it, but continued to stay in bed, decidedly to rest. By 1:20AM, I thought it was odd that they were still there. I had heard and read that changes in position, drinking water, getting up to walk around sometimes would get false labor to settle down, so up I got. I had a glass of water and walked around downstairs a bit, but they kept on coming. Being sort of a geek, I got on the computer and started an Excel spreadsheet so that I could enter in the time a contraction started and when it stopped and it would calculate to the second how long it lasted. I labored much of the night walking through the contractions and then sitting at the computer and entering in times and researching on the internet how to tell real labor from false labor. None of the information could tell me for sure that I was in labor.
About 5:30 in the morning, after contractions had become more than just mildly painful, I decided that this was probably the real deal and to wake up my sleeping sick husband to tell him he should start thinking about getting ready to go. In his half-asleep state, he didn’t really get it for a minute or two what I was trying to tell him, which of course confused me when I didn’t get much of a reaction. Then it finally dawned on him, I meant go to the hospital, go to the hospital to have a baby, our baby.
I wasn’t in much of a hurry, because it didn’t hurt too, too badly. I took a Tylenol and that seemed to help take off the edge. We left the house about 7AM and headed to the hospital. Of course all the roads seemed more bumpy than they had been before. As we were nearing the hospital, I thought my contractions were going away and I was sure that once they checked me, they’d send me back home.
We got to the hospital and they checked me in and shortly after my doctor arrived and checked me. I was 3cm dilated, I hit the magic number and I could stay. To this point I was able to handle the pain with coolness, not minding the cramps too much, but that all changed pretty quickly after the doctor broke my water (which is an interesting and alarming feeling in itself). The cramps turned from something that I could mostly handle to excruciating (feels like the belly is going to split open and the back break into pieces) and this is when the concept of time went out the window and the morning blurred into afternoon.
I wanted to birth without pain medication, so the nurse suggested that I step into a warm shower and see if that helped me through the pain. It didn’t. While in the shower, I made the decision for pain medication, wondering how I was even going to get from the shower to the hospital bed just to get it. I chose Stadol, a narcotic that helps control the pain by getting a mom totally dopey. Stadol is an IV drug. That’s fine and dandy when they can get an IV placed. My body was so stressed with the pain that all my veins had constricted, making it difficult on the nurses to place an IV. After blowing a few veins, they were able to place one on the sixth try. The many painful pokes of the IV needles was actually a welcome distraction from the contractions. Once the Stadol drip was going I was able to relax between contractions, but each contraction was just as difficult to work through. Once the contractions were coming about a minute apart and the Stadol was no longer able to get me restfully relaxed in between contractions, and I decided that I wanted and epidural and fast.
Had the anesthesiologist been in a surgery, or otherwise held up, I probably would have been too far dilated to get an epidural, but he was able to come in time. They say that you’re not supposed to move when getting an epidural to avoid spinal damage. The thought of being in writhing pain and required not to writhe is hard to accept, but knowing that function of the lower back and legs were potentially at risk, I got myself focused. Wes watched the whole thing as I was sitting on the bed with my arms clutching him so that I wouldn’t move when contractions struck. (According to Wes, the epidural is an interesting procedure to watch…the hugely long and wide gauged needle going into my spine.) Once the line for the drip was thread through the needle (that’s how wide it is!!!), the anesthesiologist gave me a fix. It was wonderful. A feeling of warmth quickly spread from my lower back to my toes; it was like stepping into a bath. I went from feeling like I was going to split in half to conversational. Wes and I even took in a bit of Cesar’s dog training tips on the Discovery Channel in the midst of heavy labor.
After a bit of time (an hour, hour and a half, two?) I started to feel my contractions again. They weren’t really painful, but it was a feeling of pressure. I figured they must just be getting really strong, glad that I had the epidural. It wasn’t long before the doctor came in to check me and lo and behold told me right away that I was at 10cm and ready to push! I was shocked! My baby was going to come out! It really was!
Doctor got changed out of her dress and into scrubs and the on call doctor was there as well. They said to push when I thought I was having a contraction…in the meantime they all had a jolly conversation with Wes, leaving me to try and guess if the pressure I was feeling was a contraction, and asking if I should start pushing again. Then they’d remember for a little bit that I was having a baby and count me through the push before they resumed the conversation. Oddly enough I didn’t really care that much, I was just concentrating on getting the baby out. The only time when they concentrated as much as I did was when the baby’s heartbeat dropped and I saw concern in the doctor’s faces. They watched the monitor for about a minute and then the heartbeat went back up, and all was fine. As the baby began to crown I felt pain. I knew that without an epidural, I would have quit then and there, the baby just on the verge of arrival. Focused on getting it out, I just kept pushing, and there was the head. The doctor told me to stop pushing for a moment, told me the baby had hair as she adjusted the baby and then I gave one last push and out came the rest of the body. I was told it was a girl and she was placed on my belly as they dried her off. I was shocked that there was my baby…the one I never expected to actually come out! It was dumbfounding, and there are no words to describe the emotion!
It was not until the baby was weighed and checked over that we gave her the name Gwyneth Noelle and I got all the gory details. The epidural needle was INCHES long, and a great bit of that went into my back, the baby’s heartbeat dropped because the cord was wrapped around Gwyneth’s neck, there was lots of blood, etc. Birth may not be pretty, but it is truly amazing and miraculous!
The result: another set of footprints to leave their impression on this earth - we pray a good one.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)