Sunday, April 30, 2006

Sam and Daddy...

One of my favorite pictures...

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Chunky Monkey...

Owen and I took Sam for his 2-week doctor visit today (even though he is actually 16 days old). It turns out there's a reason this child has been eating non-stop since he was born!

Let me be specific. He was borh on the 11th at 7 pounds, one ounce. On the 14th, when we were discharged, he weighed 6 pounds, 12 ounces. This loss of weight is common, I am told, and most newborns return to their birth weight within two weeks. On the following Monday, the 17th, Sam had eaten his way back up to 7 pounds, three ounces. Way to go, Sam! Ahead of the curve! Today, the nurse weigned him and he measured in at 8 pounds, six ounces! He also gre an inch and a half in length. My thoughts? It's a darn good thing we got him out when we did!

Also, his belly button stump fell off last night. Imagine my spurprise when I went to change his diaper this morning and there it was, floating around in his PJ's! Freaking nasty! Disgusting! I had to pick it up with a piece of gauze to throw it away....blech!

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

A little something...

Some of you may be wondering how I am doing in my new role as “mom.” The truth is that this is a really hard job (though, now that I think about it, nobody ever told me it would be easy.) So far, I have watched a stream of gelatinous poo fly about 18 inches to cover not only the changing table but also the book shelf. I have also made the mistake of thinking that my hand would make a good deflector shield for the “wee” (as I like to call it) that little boys inevitably make the moment you remove their diapers. All I actually succeeded in doing was providing a surface from which the “wee” could spray the floor, the hamper and, unfortunately, the face of my child.

Pictures still aren’t up on Owen’s website, so here’s one for now.

Monday, April 24, 2006

Sam's Hospital Portrait

The photo they took of Sam teh day we were discharged has finally been put up on the website. The site's address is Once you're there, type in Hospital Code A22 and then ID# 14048 to see his picture. It's not a great photo. Hopefully, Owen will remember to bring home the photo disk from work tonight so that I can put some photos up.

Saturday, April 22, 2006

I'm Back!

Well, let's say MOSTLY back.

You see, there is a new man in my life and he simply takes up all my time. In case you're out of the loop, I finally dropped the excess poundage I've been acquiring over the last ten months or so inthe form of a child.

Our little boy finally made his grand appearance shortly after 6 p.m. on April 11th. But the story of his borth begins a little bit before that. When I last wrote, I was due to go back in to see the doctor on Monday the 10th. As scheduled, Owen and I went in for our appointment. Things hadn't changed much. Actually, they hadn't changed at all. But my doctor asked me if I would like to be induced sometime during the week. I told her that would be fine, that I was about ready to unload the little man. She had Owen and I wait in the exam room while she called over to the hospital to see what night would be good for me to be admitted for the process to begin.

She returned a few minutes later to let me know that I would be admitted that night. Yikes! So we went home, got the last few things ready, took a nap (believe it or not!) and then returned to the hospital to be admitted at 6. The doctor came to see me at around 7:30 at which time she put a small tab attached to a shoelace-type thing on my cervix. The idea was that this drug would help "loosen things up" so that I could be given an induction drug in the morning.

As it happened, though, I awoke with contractions at 3 a.m. We were in full swing labor by morning and by noon I was crying in near hysterics (between contractions, that is. During them, I was too busy being in excessive pain) and asking for my epidural. Unfortunately, my labor had not progressed enough to be able to get it. The cervix must be dialated to 5 cm in order to have an epidural without slowing the labor and I had not yet made it to 2.

Instead of the epidural, the gave me an injection of a pain killer to "take the edge off." Believe me when I say that it didn't take the edge off a dog-gone thing. All it did was let me sleep in the 3 minutes between contractions and forget how bad one was before the next one hit. It didn't dull the pain at all.

At 4 p.m. the doctor stopped back to check my progress. I'd still not reached 3 cm dialation and still couldn't have an epidural. Also, I was again crying between contractions as the injection had worn off and I was no longer sleeping between them. I was also completely exhausted. I mentioned to the nurse that I had a pounding headache and, apparently, when you have exhibited signs of preeclampsia, this is bad news. The doctors was there in what seemed like minutes and presented me with my options: 1.) keep going as we had been, 2.) try to seppd things up with pitocin or 3.) skip all the nonsense and proceed directly to c-section. We chose option 3 and, seemingly within minutes (it could have been longer, in the meantime I had been given another injection to dull the pain), Owen, my mom and I were in the operating room.

Normally, only one support person for the mom is allowed in the O.R. during a c-section. But Owen and the nburse managed to convince the powers that be that he was prone to fainting and so they needed to have my mom there as well. After making sure everybody was in the right place (the anesthesiologist told my mom "You sit THERE" rather emphatically after she stood up and got a little too close to seeing the backstage magic behind the curtain) things were under way. It all seemed to go really quickly to me, but by then I could hardly keep my eyes open.

When it was all said and done, Samuel was born at 7 pounds, 1 ounce and was 19 1/2 inches long. My mom got to cut the cord - her first! (Owen took a pass...apparently he didn't want to faint)They showed him to me in the operating room once he was out and all I could do was cry. I've heard people say that they hated having c-sections because they couldn't hold the baby right away after it was born. I didn't mind, though. Not that I didn't want to, but I was really glad for Owen to get to have that time (which turned out to be about 2 hours) with him. After all, I'd had 10 months with him...and Owen was dying to have a turn and I think he deserved it.

Sam is now 11 days old. He is not potty trained yet, even though his dad is convinced he is a genius who is already meeting the developmental milestones of a baby who is a month or two old. I don't care one way or another. He is beautiful and, though he has his moments, he is by and large a very good baby. I look at him and can't figure out how something so amazing could come from us. To me he is definite proof of the coexistance of God and science. The visiting nurse says he is doing very well. He was back to his birth weight in under a week (it usually takes about 2) and she feels that, given his bone structure, he is going to be tall. I say: bring it on!

I am recovering from the c-section pretty well. I was scolded by the visiting nurse on Monday for not taking it easy enough and causing myself to bleed. Though the tissure around it is still very swollen, my incision in is closed and the swelling is definately going down. I can't wait to be back to my "old self" again, though I know it takes time.

We have dozens and dozens of pictures, all of which, I believe will soon be up on Owen's website. As soon as that happens, I'll be sure to let you all know.

I promise to do my best to keep writing, but for the next few weeks, please understand that it's a gigantic triumph if I can get a shower. Blogging figures in a little way down the list. I already have some great stories to share and will do my best to do so ASAP.

Friday, April 07, 2006

Where I'm at now...

I was thinking that it’s about time for an update, so here goes. Yesterday I went to the doctor for my normal weekly appointment. If you have been following along, you already know that I have been ordered on bed rest because of water retention and that yesterday marked the end of my first week off my feet.

Yesterday’s doctor visit brought with it the following information:

1. I have not gained any weight. This is good news. I have not lost any weight. This is not quite as good news as there was some home that some of the swelling would go down if I was off my feet. Turns out it just moved elsewhere.
2. My blood pressure went up a little. Just a little, but still, not good.
3. There was a little bit of protein in my urine.
4. I was not at all dilated. (I refuse to explain this one. If you don’t know what I mean, look up child birth on

According to my doctor, the first three things taken together mean that either I am at the beginning stages of preeclampsia or I will go into labor at any minute. Also, according to my doctor, had I been at all dilated, she’d have sent me over to the hospital to be induced (yikes!).

They drew some blood to run some tests. I have no idea what ones they were. All I know is that I was to wait for a call in the afternoon…had the results not been good, I would have been called back to the hospital for induction. Needless to say, I went home feeling a little freaked and a lot frenzied because I am now on strict bed rest and, of course, I was not ready and Owen couldn’t come home to help me).

As it is, no matter how it happens, she does not think I will make it to my due date (Easter Sunday) and has told me that she will not let me go past it.

Here is the new current game plan: rather than wait until my appointment next Thursday, I am now going in on Monday (unless I go into labor first in which case I am off the hook). If, on Monday, it is found that either my BP has gone up more, my protein level has gone up, my weight has gone up significantly or (and this last one is just my own suspicion) if I am at all dilated, I will be sent to the hospital to be induced on Monday night. If everything is the same as it was yesterday, I go back home and wait some more.

Oddly as it sounds, we are now waiting with a greater sense of urgency. I don’t know how you “wait harder” but we certainly are. Everybody is on high alert, cell phones synchronized and ready. And me…I’m still in my freaking chair. We now have a serious love/hate relationship.