Saturday, December 3, 2011

The Moment

Miss Amelie,
You have almost outgrown  your side-car!
 You're sleeping, and you have been for long enough that I've microwaved up lunch, poured myself a soda, and consumed most of it while reading Facebook -- so I am likely to hear your cry of awakening any second.  This is The Moment I had never experienced before your birth, never conceived of -- but every parent must know it well.  This is The Moment in which I get to choose what to do -- dishes?  thank-you cards? clean up the overwhelming clutter of our home?  exercise?  laundry?  Blog entry wins, because it hasn't in so long, and your precious infancy is beginning to pass very quickly.
You started laughing, rarely, at 4 months
  Outside our little house the sun is sparkling on diamond-studded snow.  Just now while I nursed you to sleep the golden filament of your magic hair whisped about on the flannel receiving blanket with which we protect the sheets from your continuous spitting up and drooling.  You have one single magic hair an easy 3 inches long, because for some reason that one individual hair got a jump on all the others and was an inch or two long at your birth.  Every time I check for it I am worried this will be the time it has fallen out, but so far it is holding strong, and plucking it out to put it in your baby book just seems like an evil idea.  Your head smells warm and sweet to me; your little hands are so pudgy that they dimple inwards at the knuckles and you have a permanent rubber-band-like crease at your wrist.
God-Daddy Geoffey sponsors your anti-pink wardrobe
You seem to have firsts at every turn.  Today you went to your first movie in a theater -- the new Muppet Movie -- and amazingly for your age, you were quiet the whole time, even grinning at the giant screen during the dance numbers.  You play with sounds and facial expressions like fascinating toys, and every three or four days you come up with a new sound.  Most recent (and one of my favorites) is the near-silent "bop" noise of opening your mouth without saying anything, like a fish blowing bubbles.  Last week you started actually blowing bubbles, spit bubbles, which I still strongly prefer to your new sound the week before -- you started experimenting to see how mind-numbingly high-pitched you could shriek.  I was very relieved that you didn't decide to do that in the dark warmth of the movie theater today.  Every night we read a book in Spanish; sometimes I remember to sign "nurse" before you eat but usually I forget.  Our plan (my plan, but Daddy humors me) is to teach you some really basic words in Arapaho.  Probably I'll forget that too.
You have reserves about THIS game, but the Wii is usually fun
  You've only this last week begun to cry in a way that I am choosing on occasion not to indulge.  One of the books I trust most (The Science of Parenting by  -- oh, there you are now, waking up... if I can get to you fast enough you might sleep for a long time!  So either that or this post ends in parentheses :)
**Two hours later
Just woke up myself, to the dogs' hungry growling, at which you awoke beside me.  I had fallen asleep as you nursed, cuddled in bed, and I guess I needed it -- last night we tried "really" co-sleeping and I didn't get unconscious much.  So many days pass this way, with sweet unintended time like that -- Moments come and gone under the sleepily falling snow...

Saturday, November 19, 2011

4-1/2 months: Latest developments

Really, you're almost 5 months old now - just another 6 days.  It's hard to believe that your first Thanksgiving is coming up next week, and you'll be 6 months old on your first Christmas!  Fortunately, there's no real need to get you much this year; even next year you'll just be getting the hang of presents.  :o)

You have been growing up fast... literally.  Your 4-month checkup and shots were yesterday, and you're in the 99th percentile for height (I guess they call it "length" since you can't stand up yet).  I knew you were going to be a big kid, but good grief!  And the shots went much easier this time around.  You cried like crazy for a couple of minutes, but we got you distracted quickly, kept you moving in your bouncing jumper thingy, and massaged your legs several times, and you were fine the rest of the day.

You're getting better at rolling over, which is a blessing and a curse at the same time.  Next thing you know you'll be crawling and pulling yourself up... then we'll actually have to start baby-proofing the house.  Damn.  But you're laughing and giggling more every day, which is so gratifying.  Your smile when you wake up is so validating - it makes everything so worthwhile.  I really love you, little girl, and I can't wait to see what comes next...


Om nom nom... yummy baby

(The photos in this post were from a photo shoot we had with Light Affect Studios on 11/15.  Many, many thanks to Bryan Dodd and Doug Flint - you guys did an amazing job!)

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

What's in a year: from contraception to cooing

Bubble,

Two years ago today, on September 14th of 2009, I started a health project (NOT a diet) because Daddy just dropped me off in Virginia to do a 3-month internship with Rosetta Stone's Endangered Language Program -- leaving me with the time and impetus to change my life.  The project was a great success and I was very healthy by the time it ended a year later on September 14th of 2010.  I was feeling so vibrant and alive that I asked Daddy to go to lunch with me so I could ask him a very important question that I'd been thinking about for a long time, even praying for hours while I climbed the 14-er Pikes Peak the week before.  I asked him to consider a hiatus from contraception; I asked him to consider inviting you into our lives.  We had fish-and-chips and bangers-n-mash at Connor O'Neals off Pearl Street in Boulder; I had a celebratory Strongbow cider (this being the last day of a year of ultra-health) and he had a Guinness even though he was wearing his RTD uniform.  Here's what I wrote in my diary on the sticky dark-wood bar table after he left:

**9/14/10 Connor O's**
Just told Brian I want to start trying!  His reaction was not negative, only very practical, hesitant and thoughtful (of course).  I asked our baby's spirit to go with him, help bring images to mind, help him consider -- and see what his or her father would be like.  We are all deciding, together.  I thanked Brian for considering it and told him I understand it is not a foregone conclusion.  I do...
  Child of mine, come play this afternoon.  Go tickle Brian's mind when you're satisfied with mine.  I look forward to your point of view.
  Mom -- oh, Mom -- let this happen!  As is best for us all, let this happen.
  I love you all --
-Muff-
**
 You accepted our invitation so quickly that, given how pregnancy technically begins two weeks before fertilization, I officially got pregnant a week before we even had this conversation, right around my hours-long prayer on the mountainside.  Since the beginning of the pregnancy co-occured with the end of my herculean weight-loss success, I gained an enormous ton of weight with you, despite exercising incessantly and eating primarily quinoa and spinach (or so it felt).  A good childhood friend, Tiffany Bressan, even printed me a t-shirt that said "Ask me if it's twins and I'll hurt you" so I would have the courage to leave my house that last trimester.

Maybe next year today I'll be somewhere near as healthy as I was a year ago, but even if I'm not, my life will be immeasurably richer.  As I've been typing this you've been cooing to me in your soft little voice, flashing your stunningly beautiful eyes around the dim room, reminding me that everything that bought me the prize of you, absolutely every moment that preceded your entry into my storyline -- all of it is made worthwhile by your coming.

Thank you so much for hearing me, and for joining our lives.  You are my reward.  I love you.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Sushi-grade Joy and Newborn Parenting

This was excerpted from an email to an old friend who is expecting his first baby in a month.

Dude, this baby-raising this is just a massive adventure.  It's nowhere near the hell I was expecting.  So much of it feels good -- it is true that having the time to do the dishes becomes a luxury, but it literally feels like a luxury -- not at all like the drudgery it once was.  That's the misunderstanding I had, that even parental luxury is a single person's drudgery, but really it's just that sushi-grade relaxation and happiness is suddenly absolutely free and a lot easier to come by.  Waking up refreshed with energy would no doubt generate sushi-grade joy for me at the moment.

I don't think I'm doing a very good job explaining this, but the coolest part is that it's a very satisfying adventure, and it feels to me very much like living in a country where I don't speak the language -- which I've always loved.  The learning curve is insane, but most of it is very, very low-stress.  Like writing a dissertation if it cried when you ignored it but then smiled at you with gorgeous crystalline eyes after you finished two pages.

:o)
-finn-
p.s. Hey, I'm going to use this on her blog.  Brian's using a bottle of breastmilk to put her down for a nap right now, for the first time while I'm home, which is utterly awesome.  You're going to be a kick-ass Dad, and birth really brought Brian and me closer.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

What you're like and what we do

 
Amelie,
Before you get any older I should update you on what you're like, and this video is an example of what we do: we hang out with you in a sling a lot, usually with your canine siblings, little Australian Shepherds named (tiny) Tucker, (medium) Maddy and (big) Baxter.  We hike through the Rocky Mountains where it's lush and green, and this video is from the first hike we all took together.

You are an intense little baby, very focused.  We spend a great deal of time nursing, of course, and when you were very new you would glare at me with one eye closed -- you looked like a tiny disgruntled samurai.  You would usually nurse four "rounds" at a time, a round being one session of about 10 or 15 minutes after which you would fall asleep.  Daddy would read to me while we nursed during the first weeks before he went back to work, especially in the middle of the night.  You slept through the night for the first time when you were just 4 days old, and now at 10 weeks you average about 6 hours before nursing half-asleep and then sleeping another 2 or 3 hours.  Our house is very tiny so you share a bedroom with us, and your bed is a little side-car that attaches to our mattress right next to me.  You look like a humongous burrito all swaddled up in your blanket and propped between other blankets so you can't roll over.  You also spend a lot of time sleeping on or next to Daddy, and I am very fond of taking pictures of the two of you.

You are usually in a good mood, so we take advantage of your amiability by dressing you up in adorable and sometimes funny clothes.  You make great faces.  The flower on your headband in this picture became a good friend, and you smile up at it where it hangs now over your changing table.  Your best friend in the world is our ceiling fan.  This morning you woke up, looked glaringly right over Daddy's shoulder, caught sight of the ceiling fan and broke into a grin.

You were particularly distressed the day you said goodbye to Uncle Kelson, who moved to Italy for college when you were two months old.  Uncle Kelson is exactly as much older than you as I am older than him, and I hope very much you two grow to have as strong and loving a relationship as he and I do.  I also hope he teaches you Italian.
A lot of people love you and have come over to hold you, especially your scientist-turned-soccer-referee godfather Geoff. Aunt Sarah and her family also come to visit, and we go down there; Julia especially loves to hold you and play with you, though you sometimes seem almost as big as she is.  Another great friend is Mama Kate, your honorary grandmother, who loves to hold you for long quiet hours (which is wondrous kind for me).When you were 8 weeks old we started going swimming in a warm little baby pool.  It must have reminded you of the bathtub, because we always nurse together in the bathtub, and as soon as you felt the warm water on your skin you started sticking your tongue out like you always do when you're hungry.  There was no one around other than Uncle Bagel your swim teacher, so I nursed you -- and you fell right asleep!

I spend so many hours nursing you every day that I often amuse myself by reading.  You are just now starting to take naps without me having to stay lying down next to you, which is a relief, but it is also very relaxing to watch you breathe.  You are so beautiful you look like you're made of porcelain, and I often spend long periods of time softly tracing your cheek with my fingertips.  You smell good too.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Strategies to Prepare... Nevermind

Amelie,
You're sleeping again!  Holy smokes.  This entry will be for pregnant friends, sharing what I learned in the adventure of your coming, and for you yourself should you choose to procreate some time long in the future.

The birth preparation book that is most written-in and dog-eared of all the ones in my library is Hypnobirthing by Marie Mongan. 

It stuck because the lolling sound of her voice -- oh crap, you're waking up in the next room...
**
So here is a picture of what I found when I went into the bedroom, after an unsuccessful 20-minute attempt to nurse you back to sleep (in which you did sleep but awoke entirely upon my trying to extricate myself) -- you, propped between rolled up blankets with another blanket over you for security and under you for the inevitable spit-up, hungrily sucking on your fist despite my just having nursed you for 20 minutes.  And here is a picture of what you look like, triumphant in your efforts, cooing happily beside me now.

Which reminds me, the sleep book I'm currently reading is The 90-minute Baby Sleep Program.  Today is the first day of applying it.  So far you, Amelie, have successfully gone to sleep within 20 minutes of the time it predicts twice this morning -- using nursing as a soothing-to-sleep strategy -- but you have proceeded to awaken 20 minutes later both times.  Ah well, only 50 minutes left until I try again.

More on that Hypnobirthing thing very soon (the new mother wrote naively).  Time to put you in a sling and go get me some lunch.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

A Short History of Your Life

  • Amelie,  
    This is my first entry since before your birth and it's rushed because any moment you'll wake up.  Today is your 2 month birthday, and you are gorgeous and sweet, a total angel baby, but red-faced with rage today after your shots.  You got full revenge by shrieking so irately that I ended up trapped in a public restroom, sitting on the floor nursing you for most of an hour -- every time I tried to stop you would shoot immediately into full-blown wail.  I have tons of things to tell you about, but for this entry I'll just hit the birth and a little bit of advice for pregnant friends regarding having a newborn.
    Birth was a total shocker to me, a truly amazing experience -- humbling in the extreme and one hell of an adventure.  My respect for all women who are brave enough to give birth, however it happens, grew exponentially in light of my own story.  Your Daddy and our doula Stephanie Watson-Cambell did an amazing job, as did Aunt Sarah, Mama Kate and Yaxa who helped us through the long days of labor.  Aunt Sarah even made the gorgeous bumble bee blanket (with a matching headband) in whose furry loving softness you spent much of your first days.
    Here's the story.  The castor oil didn't work at all, but it did deprive me of refreshing sleep Wednesday night -- which wasn't helpful because Thursday night the hospital began inducement (Daddy hates the use of the word induction when talking about starting labor, because labor is induced, not inducted) so I couldn't sleep Thursday night either.  Real labor kicked in Friday but only by ramping up an IV of Pitocin -- you just did not want to come -- and I finally managed to get you out on Saturday right after noon, a total of 40 hours after the nurses started the process.  You were so big that instead of spelunking around my pelvis etc. like most babies do, you just bulldozed your way through everything (called full-body dystocia) and it took me longer to recover than it would have if I'd chosen a Cesarian.  You ended up being induced 8 days after your due date but born two days later on June 25th, 2011, exactly 10 years to the day after I moved to Virginia to start my life with your Daddy.  You weighed 9 lbs 4 oz at birth and were 21.5 inches long; today you are 12 lbs 14 oz and 24 inches long, at the 98th percentile of length for 2-month-olds!  That's a lot of nursing.

    Newborn parenthood, though unarguably an ongoing challenge, is nowhere near the hell I anticipated, for a whole lot of reasons. Mostly it's easier because you are a very relaxed baby, sleeping or nursing peacefully most of the time, and because a battalion of good friends and family gave us gift cards, brought us meals, and supported us enough that Daddy could stay home to enjoy you for your first 6 weeks.  Meemaw and Papa helped a whole ton and were here to welcome us home from the hospital. 
    Daddy reads to me while you nurse sometimes, mostly books about parenting strategies and how to help you sleep, so I'm going to post a bibliography with book reviews on here eventually.  Our primary strategy has been to hold you a ton and follow our (well-informed) instincts before counting anything, since humans raised healthy babies since long before we could tell time.  We didn't put you down for the first 10 days of your life, using slings instead, and you sleep in a side-car attached to our bed so I can reach out and comfort you when you start to wake up.  You slept 6 hours on your 4th night of life and average between 6 and 8.  Your Daddy and I are the least sleep-deprived parents of a newborn ever, and you are enormously kind to be treating us so gently.  We've done everything as cheaply and plastic-free as possible, an excellent example of which is that instead of buying a plastic baby bathtub, you just take baths with me.  I'm glad we didn't have room for a baby bathtub because we learned to nurse in the bath and it has become a relaxing and happy time for us both.
     
    Friends who are expecting,
     The most useful thing I can tell you, from reading tons of books but mostly because of our (anecdotal) immediate experience, is to use a cosleeper side-car instead of a crib. They take up way less room, cost a lot less, are actually safer than cribs since you can hear it if the baby has breathing problems, and allow you to care for the infant before s/he wakes up enough to scream. Amelie almost never gets all the way to crying. Oh, second piece of advice, if you use a sling and carry the baby around, you don't need a bouncy seat or a stroller (we're way short on space and $$ so most of my advice follows those lines) plus the baby sleeps really well on your body (again no crying).
    The three most influential books I've read are the Science of Parenting (neurological evidence about how parenting strategies impact personality development), Our Babies, Our Selves (an ethnopediatric description of how varied cultures use different strategies with different outcomes) and La Leche League's Womanly Art of Breastfeeding.  Brian's Aunt Diane not only was an author of that book, she was also the expert interviewed by the anthropologist in Our Babies, Our Selves and she popped up in my 4th favorite book, Attachment Parenting.

    I forgot to tell you, Amelie, that you weren't named until you were one day old.  We decided to name you Amelie Carroll Lucy Thye, every name in honor of people we've loved -- and a story I'll tell you later.  Yay that you have come!  Those were the first words you heard, in Arapaho, spoken by your father -- hohou tohno'useen, thank you for coming.  Welcome to our lives, you little angel!  And please keep sleeping.  :o)

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Week 41: Pencils down

Okay sweetie pie.  Time's up.

Daddy's beside me under the patchwork quilt while we listen to old music on my laptop and wait for the repercussions of castor oil to trigger your birth.  If it doesn't work tonight then tomorrow night we go in for medical induction.  Dysentery in Ghana isn't my favorite memory from Africa but it was an adventure, so I'm trying intentional gastrointestinal upset as a means of hopefully preventing a balloon catheter followed by an IV of pitocin.  I was really hoping you'd come on your own, but I don't think you want to put your pencil down. 

Whatever isn't done you can finish once you're born, okay?  Come on, sweetie.  Let's do this thing.
-Momma

Monday, June 20, 2011

Week 40: Bubbles by Candlelight (Surrender)

Progress update: as of today, 3cm dilated and 70% effaced, not too much more than two weeks ago.  We postponed induction from Wednesday to Thursday night so long as the ultrasound on Wednesday is not too dire.  A week ago Bubble was estimated to weigh 9.6lbs so even I agree that waiting much past the 41st week may be a mistake.  Thank you for closing your eyes and asking Bubble to make it on her own.  I think she hears us.  I also think dancing naked in the moonlight and taking hot baths are the two most amusing non-unpleasant induction techniques I've seen recommended that I am capable of doing without Brian's help.  Last night I took a bath by candlelight (as I do every night) and was blowing bubbles from a bubble wand (as I do whenever I have a wave) when I realized very few people have seen how gorgeous bubbles by candlelight are, so I got out of the bathtub, dried off, and set up the camera on the toilet seat.  With my left hand I held the bubble wand to my lips and with my right I clicked the camera; here's what I got.  The candle is the last of my Mom's candles and it started out a foot high and has seen me through many baths, so it seemed appropriate to ensconce it in art.

Bubble: Today when I got to the center of the labyrinth after the blood test at the hospital the request in my mind surprised me; instead of the "Please let this baby come to me soon" that I'd planned on, the prayer that formed instead was "Please give me the strength to wait for my child."  All of my life I have navigated difficulties by taking initiative, by thinking and planning and strategically manipulating variables -- so this last month of discomfort and frustration I have stepped up to bat with everything I am, my heart and nerve and sinew, but the strategies that have defined me elsewhere have left me with nothing but compounded discomfort and frustration.  I have tried enough induction techniques to have convinced myself utterly that no action on my part can hasten your arrival; I have dealt with discomfort by hours of rigorous self-hypnosis and relaxation practice, but still the deep strong tenderness that grips me in waves can make me cry out.

I surrender.  Your birth will be your birth, and I am waiting as long as I can so you have the chance to do it your way.  This is very difficult to do because I know that at any moment I can end the constant tension and suspense by asking for an induction, to which they will agree because you are so big that if I saw a doctor instead of midwives I would likely have been pressured to induce you before now.  It is difficult to wait for you when every instant is stressful, tiring, and full of aching, and when I know my decision not to end this may be in vain anyway, since it's only a matter of days before I have to induce no matter what.

Bubble, I love you, and this is my first act of respect for you as the person you want to be: you have the most time I can safely give you to come on your own.  But please help me have the strength to keep waiting.  Every time I feel you move inside me I am reminded how precious it is to share my body with you.  I am deeply honored you have come to me, but until I look into your eyes I will not feel safe and certain that you are mine.

Friday, June 3, 2011

What practice labor feels like

In a word? Trippy.  Like there is no boundary between the perception of and the generation of others' emotion, like external stimuli come into and through my head, like I have no skin.  I didn't expect that.

In several words?  Exciting, weird, and elephantishly uncomfortable.  Imagine how a balloon feels when it's about to burst, then turn it from thin light plastic into a heavy unweildy metal tank balloon -- that's late 3rd-trimester pregnancy, uncomfortable twice constantly.  But practice labor is very different, so at first -- the first two nights in which I spent more than 5 hours blowing bubbles every time my abdomen turned into a hard-packed basketball -- the excitement of the new sensations was welcome.  Practice contractions are about as comfortable as they seem like they would be, possibly slightly less so, but I thought intense sensations meant I was getting somewhere, and it was a relief from the monotonous aching pissiness.

Brian was timing the waves every time he saw me blowing bubbles from the Bubble shower party favor around my neck, and when he said "Top of the minute, 4 minutes, consistent," my internal response was "Oh f#$%!!" The second night this happened for more than 4 hours straight, we called doula Stephanie who drove down from Ft. Collins to spend the night and escort us into the birthing center as planned.  Everything looked like it was really happening.

It wasn't.  Whew.  I got to rest again.  And now I've replaced raspberry tea (which stimulates uterine contractions) with occasional sips of Aaron Hart's delicious hard cider, since an old hippy antidote for preterm labor is alcohol.  It won't stop Bubble from coming when she's ready, apparently, but it will stop me spending hours in an intensely vulnerable mental and physical state, going through labor that isn't really labor.  Bubble's squirming around in my distended tummy as I type, so all is well -- another gorgeous Colorado day -- and one morning closer to looking into her eyes.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Week 38: False alarm

Finn's Aunt Cheryl called it: Keep talking about Bubble coming early, and you'll jinx it.  Since Sunday night, Finn had been having fairly regular waves for several hours at a time, and they were getting more intense.  Last night our doula, Stephanie, came down from Ft. Collins and spent the night with us just in case.  Then we moved Finn's midwife appointment from Thursday to today so we could talk to them.  The consensus: it's all practice labor, and she's probably got at least another week to go.

Finn is understandably frustrated by all this, but as the doula and the midwife told her, Bubble is going to come on her schedule, and there's nothing anyone can do to speed it up.  So the only thing to do is wait, and that's probably the hardest thing for Finn to hear right now.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Week 36: Final countdown

This coming Wednesday will be the start of week 37, which means in about 10 days Bubble will be, essentially, full-term.  As the time gets closer, I find myself getting deeper and deeper into denial.  I know she's coming (and coming very soon!) but it still seems so far away.  Finn is getting more and more impatient waiting for Bubble, which I completely understand - she's uncomfortable much of the time, can't sleep very well, and has been that way for months now.  Meanwhile, I keep hoping for more time to get ready... mentally, physically, and organizationally.

So whichever way you decide to go, Bubble - early, late, or on time - you'll make one of us happy.  And really, you're going to make BOTH of us VERY happy when you arrive.  :o)

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Daddy's Take on Mother's Day

Today is Mother's Day: the first of many, many more to come for Finn.  As I told her, I often question my own abilities as a father... Will I make the right decisions?  Will I be able to help Bubble when she needs it?  Will I be able to talk to her in a way so that she will hear me and understand?  Will she respect me as a father and as a friend?
Carroll and Lynn, 2007

But, I told Finn, I have none of those doubts regarding her capacity as a mother.  Why?  Because she is her mother's daughter.  Carroll was an amazing woman, and a fantastic mother.  She had an abundance of love for all her children, and gave everything she could for them.  And I believe Finn has inherited those qualities from her.

While I do have doubts about my own abilities as a parent, knowing that I am MY mother's son gives me great confidence that those doubts are unfounded.  Thank you, Mom, for your love, confidence, and support for the last 37+ years.  Happy Mother's Day to you, my sweet wife, my dear sister, and all other moms out there.
Abbie with Garrett and Kyle
Sarah with Kelson, Jean-Luc and Connor

How it Feels to be Pregnant

After a 2-hour hike, feeling healthy, yummy, and ultra-preggo stretchy!
 In honor of Mother's day -- here's what it feels like to be pregnant with you, Bubble, mostly stuff I never expected.

It feels like... I love your Daddy so much that the emotion is sparking the fire of molecules in my belly, and I am weaving you as the incarnation of the harmony of our life together.  You are our love given breath and a mind; you are our reward.

Being pregnant is like having a self-perpetuating exothermic ball of blue Life-light condensing in my tummy.   It's very empowering because I work; my body does what it's made to do.  It feels like a sacred honor to host you, and I love when you kick me.  I felt you first at about 23 weeks (in Natural Language Processing, your favorite time to move of the whole week) and it felt like a goldfish squirming against the inside of my pelvic bone.  Now, almost 3 months later, you fill me up to just below my rib cage, so when you move the sensation is much bigger, sometimes like an entire football flipping over, squished in between my organs.  Only about 4 times have you moved enough to take my breath away or alarm me, and the first time was when Uncle Kelson and I arrived very sleep-deprived at a hotel in Orlando, Florida after flying all night.  We hadn't eaten, and I was feeling too exhausted to move -- but I had to move if I was going to eat, and you really let me have it, gave me a great big lurching kick as if to say GET OFF YOUR BUTT AND FEED ME.  It felt very weird and disconcerting but I was happy because you were so vigorous, which meant you were healthy (and we went to get food, where I, of course, broke down in hungry-happy tears).  I had very little morning sickness, so when I did feel yucky it made me happy, because it meant you were really in there.  The first symptom before I tested positive was that my breasts felt different -- not sore or tender (they never really did that, unlike most women) but just heavier, fuller, different.  I went for a hike in the cold high Rockies outside of Frisco, Colorado at 6 weeks pregnant and the frigid air caused the first round of chest pain, a hard freezing so incisive it makes breathing a challenge.  Fortunately it hasn't happened since January, because once it starts there is nothing I can do to stop it, and it hurts so badly it makes me laugh.  There is no alarm or fear in the pain, nor is there any way I can stop it, so it's good practice for labor; instead of wishing it were over or trying to escape it, I laugh, and try to re-frame it as the American novelty of discomfort, a sensation I rarely have the chance to experience.  And when it ends I am very relieved.


Physically it is mostly ridiculously uncomfortable these days, so much so that I laugh rather often, typically shortly before wiping tears of frustration from my eyes.  I feel like a balloon stretched to popping, but much more like an armored tank than a balloon -- very heavy, unwieldy.  I read Nando Parrado's autobiographical Miracle in the Andes at 7 months pregnant because it describes the harrowing physical and spiritual gauntlet of a team of rugby players who barely survived a crash in the high Andes in winter and the starvation that followed; that's real suffering, which allowed me to see how silly it is to be reduced to tears by the bracing of my great big abdomen every time I was wracked by a cough.  Nonetheless, tears come, which is another pregnancy thing, and I don't really mind, I just feel rather silly.  Warm baths take the soreness from my overtaxed muscles and are relaxing, but my body fills up the whole tub, making it equally hard to lean back to wash my hair or to lean forward to get it wet -- so taking a shower is more practical, but standing up doesn't take the ache out.

The rare pleasure of deep sleep is like a coma; when it comes, it rolls in hard and stays, and it takes me 30 minutes or an hour before I can speak and move normally after I wake up (which, thank God, your Daddy finds endearing).  Most nights I sleep very poorly in stretches an hour or an hour and a half long, awoken either by the need to pee or by pain caused by the heaviness of my body staying in one position too long.  Rolling over is yucky because it feels like I have a 50 lb. suitcase pressing down on my tummy and my lungs, so I only move if I have to.  I love the 4-foot-long body pillow but I've grown to resent it because it's EVERYWHERE, a lot like Niko the cat and our 3 dogs, whose light sniffing noses against my hands annoy the crap out of me now in a way they never did before I was pregnant.

I enjoy loving your Daddy in a way I never have before too; somehow me being pregnant has made HIM sexier.  I love how he puts his hand on my tummy and sends you colored warm fuzzies of love every night before we sleep, and I love how he always giggles (even in the middle of the night, half-asleep) when he feels you moving inside me.  The warmth of his skin against mine is very comforting, very grounding, and when I ache everywhere and am frustrated from exhaustion, he leads me through relaxation scripts while rubbing my back and it makes all the pain go away so I can sleep.  I think he is sexier now because I know he will be a phenomenal Daddy -- because he is being one right now, working on Mother's Day as I write -- and the extreme excess of female hormones in my brain are rejoicing that I have found such a powerful and gentle ally to help me take care of you after you are born.  Plus I think pregnancy enhances smells and sensations, which makes having bodies more fun, and intimacy more exquisite altogether.

Happy to host you -- in the delivery gown I'll wear when you arrive
Lately I have come to feel inhabited, and I look forward to your birth.  You are vulnerable to the wisdom or irresponsibility of every decision I make, and your nervous system is being calibrated to the vicissitudes of my own, which probably means that when I suffer, you suffer.  It also means that if I eat chocolate and drink Coke to console myself with indulgence, your tiny brain courses with caffeine and your blood sugar probably rises, so you'd more likely prefer I indulge in quinoa and warm milk.  I am very honored to be knitting you together in my womb and when I saw your face it was like watching the breathtaking power of a lightening storm cracking open a summer twilight -- absolutely awe-inspiring, deeper than words can capture.

My own Mama, your Grandma Carroll (where your middle name comes from), described being pregnant with me this way: "The soon-to-be New Mother was terribly excited about having a daughter and dreamt constantly of holding her, nursing her, dressing her... She just could not wait to have that baby in her arms!  Neither had she ever seen the terrific struggles a premature baby goes through and how much littler they are, how much healthier it is for the baby to stay in-utero as long as possible..."  I am glad she wrote that!  I won't overexercise in hopes you come sooner.  But just like she said, I stay up at night thinking about holding you, about the sound of your breath and the smell of your skin.  I love you, Bubble, whoever you are, and I am honored to be your Mother.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Week 34: Book reviews and giving birth like a cow (my golden grail)

5/4/2011 -- Daddy's sleeping
Bubble,
This is my first entry typed right into the laptop from the glider Elaina and Mike got you, from our new little house on King Street.  Daddy had to go to sleep because he's been working a terrible lot lately and the RTD keeps assigning him sadistically early runs (tomorrow he wakes up at 3:30 and he went to bed really tired too).  On the midwives' advice I've begun to drink two cups of warmed up skim milk every night before bed -- need the calcium and somehow the protein helps too.

You move very often now, and I love it; the midwives said your head is down (so your butt is up near my ribcage) and when you get the hiccups I can feel it as an arrhythmic pulse against the inside of my pelvic bone, since that's where your shoulders are snuggled when they move!  I'm at that point in pregnancy where I'm sore most of the time and I get close to tears by default most days by evening, so usually by bedtime I am encouraging you to come early while Daddy tells you not to listen to me and to stay in there for another month.  Please stay in there as long as you need to.  You are truly fantastically easy to carry around in your internal sling :o)

Speaking of slings, I just finished reading Attachment Parenting: Instinctive Care for your baby and young child by Katie Allison Granju.  So now for the first book review of your blog, for other parents, and so you know what our ideal intentions were!  I read the whole thing in 3 days because I keep wanting to think about holding you, nursing you, carrying you around in a sling, listening to you breathe beside me in the Baby Bunk side-car bed Daddy is going to build for you (or the bassinet at arm's reach if he can't get it done between tired shifts driving buses).  The book takes the stance that child-directed sleeping and feeding result in a child who is confident that her needs will be met without excessive crying or clingy behavior.  It is well written and includes many citations of supporting research and useful websites/organizations for parents interested in breastfeeding, co-sleeping and baby-wearing (using cloth slings for carriers instead of "baby buckets" or strollers).

Attachment Parenting is 12 years old but the recommendations exactly jive with neurological evidence cited in my all-time favorite child-rearing book, The Science of Parenting: How today's brain research can help you raise happy, emotionally balanced children by Jaak Panksepp (2006).  In the same way breast milk provides blood cells that proxy as an immune system for a newborn's own underdeveloped immune system, an infant's nervous system is only half-developed at birth, so skin-to-skin contact, whether during breastfeeding or sleeping, allows the regulatory functions of heartbeat and breath to piggy-back on auditory and physical cues from whatever adult is holding the baby.  In countries like China where small houses require that almost all babies sleep with their mothers, SIDS (sudden infant death syndrome) is so rare that even medical professionals from Peking to Shanghai had never heard of such a thing (did not recognize the description) by 1999 (Jackson D, Three in a bed).  In affluent countries where babies sleep alone, the babies' heartrates and breathing can become derailed, and without the physical stimulation of an adult's body to keep them on track, sudden infant death is one of the leading causes of infant mortality.  In these countries, including the USA, Canada, Britain, Australia and New Zealand, SIDS is known by the older names "crib death" and "cot death."  Bubble, so you know, we're going to do everything we can to cosleep, and given the strength of the evidence, even your Daddy is really enthusiastic about it.

Despite the strength of the evidence that countries where cosleeping is the norm have drastically reduced rates of infant death, the American Academy of Pediatrics announced as recently as 2005 that cosleeping is unsafe.  Sleeping with your Baby: A parent's guide to cosleeping by James McKenna PhD describes how to do it safely, because part of its American reputation as unsafe stems from our issues with obesity, smoking, alcohol and the use of sedative drugs.  Basically, if an adult has a drugged nervous system or is obese, they may sleep too deeply to prevent a dangerous situation from developing, and babies can die from being smothered.  A mother who is not drugged and not obese is evolutionarily designed to mirror the sleep rhythms of the infant, and to nurse periodically throughout the night, which keeps the baby's brainwaves at a lighter level which is safer for the infant, since the deep sleep of bottle-fed infants in cribs can actually be dangerous (Attachment Parenting, 1999).  The physics of the bed matter too; the baby should not sleep between two adults, the mattress should not be really soft, the baby should be at breast-level (not near the pillow) and should not be covered by a blanket, all of which are measures to minimize the likelihood of suffocation.

The lighter sleep of the mother/infant pair when they're together sounds less restful for the cosleeping mother, though.  Studies referenced in Sleeping with your baby show that mothers whose babies are in other rooms actually have fitful sleep because the human body is designed to need to know that the baby is okay, so being able to hear a baby breathing (which I suppose can also be done through a monitor to the baby's room) allows the mother peace of mind.  None of my friends have done co-sleeping that I know of (though Nora's still in an arm's reach bassinet, which has all the benefits except skin-to-skin contact) but they have all figured out how to make it work for their families. My golden-grail ambition regarding cosleeping and nursing is to learn how to breastfeed so I barely wake up, which I am striving for because it will minimize sleep deprivation.  That itself is a major risk factor in post-partum depression and the triggering of traumatic responses (Survivor Moms: Women's Stories of Birthing,k Mothering and Healing after Sexual Abuse, Sperlich and Seng).   

The golden grail of motherhood that I practice for daily is to give birth like a cow, which I hope to do using the techniques described in Hypnobirthing:  The Mongan Method by Marie Mongan.  When I told Chet four days ago that my doula gives me homework -- an hour of it every day -- he said Nora's doula didn't give them any at all, and the difference is that our fantastic doula Stephanie Watson-Cambell is also our hypnobirthing instructor.  We do exercises -- pelvic floor (kegels), squats and pelvic tilts, and we do one relaxation/self-hypnosis every day along with listening to positive birth affirmations.  Several times a week Daddy helps me with perineal massage, which is useful to prevent episiotomy but is especially helpful in lowering the likelihood of triggering from sexual trauma that often happens to survivors during birth itself.  The first day I found out I was pregnant I started meditating in order to protect you, Bubble, from the dangers of being exposed to the cortisol in my system from how intense my moods are, and Hypnobirthing was a natural extension of that philosophy.  I would far rather feel every bit of pain in birth than involuntarily dissociate because of the fear, the way I have so many times involuntarily dissociated because of sexual trauma, and the whole point of Hypnobirthing is to learn to stay very deeply grounded in my body while you are coming.  Narcotic pain killers like percocet are really yucky for me because they make it impossible for me not to dissociate; I hate how they feel because they don't take the pain away, they just fuzz up my mind and take me away from myself.  I refuse to sacrifice the opportunity for the amazing experience of escorting your soul into the world through birth by dissociatng, whether the stimulus be endogenous (fear) or exogenous (drugs) -- so if I can at all avoid it, I will relax and self-hypnotize so deeply that I will be able to be with you throughout the entire adventure.  My favorite birth affirmation is "I look forward to birthing with joy and ecstasy," and now every time I feel a practice wave (a Braxton-hicks contraction), I get warmly happy and relaxed, probably in part due to direct hypnotic suggestions I have given myself that as soon as I feel the first wave of real labor, I will go into deep relaxation and well-being.  I almost never talk to friends who are mothers about my plans for birth because usually they respond that I only say these things because I am ignorant of the pain I will undergo and I will end up as thankful for painkillers as they were, which is disheartening.  If it's true, it's true, and this blog will report that in less than two months -- if painkillers seem like the only way for me to remain present for your arrival, I will certainly take them, and thankfully -- but for the moment I will continue the many hours of preparatory relaxation and looking forward to your arrival.

Oh my gosh!  I've been writing this entry for 2 hours and it's 12:30am!  Another natural pregnancy trick I'm using is gentle chiropractic care, which has also been shown to reduce the time of labors and the likelihood of C-sections by facilitating smooth birth through alignment of the baby and the mother's skeleton.  And tomorrow morning at 8:10 I get chiropracted by the non-fruity Dr. Eric Graves, so I had better hurry to sleep.  I love you Bubble... sleep well in there...

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Registry

We saw Bubble's face and she even smiled.  Thanks to Aaron, Fehring, Allyn, Kelly and the Nieters for funding our first peek at our baby...


Ways you can help us prepare
Kind folk have been asking what we need lately.  While lacy outfits can't go wrong, the best way to help would be gift cards to Costco, Target, Amazon, Lowe's hardware so Brian can build the baby bed, Jo-ann Fabric (www.joann.com) so Finn can make happy yellow/lace curtains or Pharmaca (www.pharmaca.com) for herbal vitamins, teas, and gentle baby products.  We're also registered at BabiesRUs.com for the basics we still haven't borrowed.  If you mail something, our new address is 7540 King Street, Westminster CO 80030.

Specific ideas of luxuries we would LOVE
A week of cloth diaper service ($25 for 1 week to $50 for 2 weeks) from www.bundlebabyshop.com
A week of organic produce delivery ($22 to $55) from DoorToDoorOrganics.com
Nursing clothes at www.motherwear.com
Mommy & Me Yoga and Massage from www.yomamaboulder.com/specials/
Chiropractic care ($25 to $50) at www.dregraves.com

For the sheer fun of it:
Books/videos about baby sign language (we have no videos yet)
Kid's books in Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, German, Swedish, Japanese, or Native American Languages
Books about infant development, how to sew baby stuff, baby massage... or whatever, we'll read it :o)

And for those of you who would like to give Bubble a more lasting gift, we will be opening a 529 college savings plan for her once she has a name and a SSN.  Anyone will be able to donate any amount they want up until she actually goes to college.  $50 now will become $200 by the time she needs it.  So that might make good birthday presents for her in the future, too.

Thank you so much for following Bubble!  More updates to come soon.  She's been moving a ton and is already head down.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Week 31: Welcome to Baby Bubble

4/13/2011  To Bubble and the Folk who love her,

 
Mommy with your red diary, elevating her feet while looking over Boulder from Mt. Sanitas
Today we are launching Bubble's blog, everything up to now of which has been (or will be) transcribed from the red fuzzy diary we started when I found out I was pregnant.  We'll post pics and information here, as well as stories for Bubble to look back on when she can read (planning to burn it to CD or something).  In case she ever decides to get pregnant, her diary talks all about how it feels when she squirms around inside me, especially in Natural Language Processing (a computational linguistics course) in which she is consistently more active than at any other time.  Haven't figured out why yet, but it works like a charm.

The first bit of information for Bubble Folk -- Colorado friends, mark your calendars because the Bubble Shower (both genders invited, a rowdy and happy BBQ-style celebration) is Saturday May 14th at 5pm at our new house, where we are just moving this weekend.  It's at 7540 King Street, Westminster, CO 80030, which is also our mailing address as of 5/1/2011.  We have borrowed almost all the necessities of baby equipment but we'll post an update later for ideas of what we still need (mostly stuff like gift cards to CostCo or a week of cloth diaper service). 

Kelson and Matt conquering outcroppings
Bubble -- now for an update on how the pregnancy is going and how it feels.  This weekend I brought the red fuzzy diary on a great big hike up Mt. Sanitas, the trail overlooking Boulder, Colorado, where Grandma Carroll used to hike every day.  It's a really hard hike and a lot of people told me I was crazy to do it because I'm humongous for 31 weeks, right in line with women in my family but enough that TOO MANY people are already asking me if it's twins.  When I first told your Daddy I was going to hike it, he looked me straight in the eye and said, "No you're not."  We worked that out.  I compromised and promised to turn around at the first wave (which are called contractions by people who don't do hypnobirthing like us).  I was dismayed to promise that because I had waves the whole time I was rushing through airports with Uncle Kelson back in Week 25, so I knew I would have to go very slowly and take tons of breaks or I'd get one in the first half hour.  Uncle Kelson and Matt Russell came with me and encouraged me to take tons of breaks while they climbed rocks.  You let me get 2/3rds the way up the mountain before I had a wave, and it was a really light one -- which I totally deserved because I leaped precariously from high rocks, and Uncle Kelson got upset with me for it.  The ascent alone lasted 2 hours.  Thank you!

Reading to Bubble with Tucker
Unfortunately I have been utterly exhausted for the last several days, probably mostly as a result of that, and I do not intend to try to summit before you're born.  Instead I'll do things like listen to your heartbeat with the baby doppler Daddy got us for Christmas, and read to you in Spanish on the big cushiony couch.  Daddy thinks about you a whole lot, and he spends his time doing genealogical research and picking out your first name (because I picked your second one).
Listening to your heartbeat with Daddy


Just these last two weeks you have REALLY started moving, most predictably when I am in class, but you also consistently will start moving when Daddy puts his face next to my tummy and talks to you.  I thought it would work with other people but usually it doesn't; you wouldn't move for your Gramma Kate, for our good friends Mike and Elaina, or even for your Goddaddy Geoff.  The only other person you WOULD move for is Aunt Sarah, who sang beautiful songs to you that she had written about God and love and good things like that.  It makes it more fun that you only move when you want to; I'm glad I can't make you do it on demand.  It reminds me that you're really a different little person in there.  I'm so glad you're coming! 

Aunt Sarah loves you

Friday, April 1, 2011

Weeks 20-28: Bubble grows!

Starting in week 20, we took pictures of Finn's tummy to show Bubble's growth (from the outside anyway)...
Week 20
Week 24
Week 28
The change is a little more obvious when she's standing up, though...  :o)
Week 20

Week 24

Week 28