Makua's Birth Story

Short: Makua James Pahukoa was born on January 27th, 2015, at 1:14 AM. He weighed 9 lbs, 9 oz, and was 22.5 inches long.

Long: My due date of January 16th came and went... a familiar feeling by now, on this my third pregnancy. I was determined not to induce labor after my experience with Liloa. My delivery was complicated and painful, augmented by Pitocin and an epidural, and my recovery was long and even more painful. I thought that if I could avoid an induction, I could have a better delivery and recovery, and because I was still enrolled in school half-time and had two other young children at home who needed me, a speedy recovery was my top priority.

During the week after my due date, I had two NST's and AFI's to make sure baby's heart rate and the amniotic fluid level looked good. My doctor was okay with me going as long as 42 weeks even though baby would be pretty big by then. I was uncomfortable but willing to wait; I trusted my body and my baby to know what to do when the time came, and thought that no matter what, I could handle it.

On Monday the 26th, I had a checkup with my OB, followed by my second NST/AFI appointment at the hospital across the street. My OB checked me and found I was still 5 cm dilated and 80% effaced, the same as the week before. She stripped my membranes for a fourth time, and we discussed how I could possibly still be pregnant. I remember her saying "That's insane. That's a crazy check for someone who's not in labor," referring to my dilation and effacement. I just laughed, because of course I went past due. I'm not sure why I ever thought I wouldn't. We talked about how my first two babies were OP and I said I thought maybe that's why this baby hadn't come yet; he was in a bad position and not putting pressure on my cervix. She admitted it was possible and decided to do a quick ultrasound. We found that he was head down, but facing sideways and not engaged in my pelvis. Just as I'd suspected.

My OB decided that we could do the AFI right then, since she already had the ultrasound machine on me, then said we should just do the NST in the office as well to save me the trip. We discussed induction, and talked about her schedule. I wanted her to be the one to induce me if it came to it, so I was looking at either the coming Wednesday or Friday. Wednesday she was available all day and night, as it was her on-call day. Friday she was available off and on. Friday was 42 weeks.

After thinking it over during my NST, we decided Wednesday was better. We talked about starting the induction with methods other than Pitocin; she was of the opinion that she could just break my water and I'd take it from there with no problems. I was skeptical but thought it sounded better than Pitocin. I signed the paperwork agreeing to the induction and privacy practices, and let everyone know that that was it. We were scheduled to have a baby in 48 hours.

That evening, I was thinking a lot about baby's position, and how my first two were OP, and remembered hearing about Spinning Babies. So I pulled up the webpage on my phone and started reading. I found a few exercises for moving babies who were OP, and thought I'd try them, until I saw a link to another exercise that said "try this first." It was the side-lying release, meant to evenly open up the pelvis to allow a baby to engage. I read it over a few times, then enlisted Chris to help me (since you need a partner) and did the side-lying release for a few minutes on both sides.

While I'd had braxton-hicks contractions since 18 weeks, I remember thinking "These contractions kind of hurt" at around 7:30 pm, half an hour after I'd done the side-lying release exercise. I kept shifting positions to try to get baby in the right spot. I did lots of stretching. Lots of hands and knees, cat stretches, and hip circles.

At around 8, I helped the kids through their bedtime routine, finishing up their bath, tucking them in bed, and thinking "This might be it," as my contractions continued intermittently and uncomfortably. While I wasn't ready to admit it was true labor (I was scared to even think it for fear of jinxing it) I thought it would still be a good idea to finish packing my hospital bag and pulling together the last-minute things I thought I'd want.

Around 10, I was in bed, trying to rest. I had gotten really sleepy and almost wanted the contractions to stop so I could sleep, but they didn't. I'd downloaded a contraction timer app on my phone, which seemed silly at the time but was immediately helpful in watching for patterns. I saw my contractions get longer, and the intervals shorter, and finally texted my mom at 10:30 to tell her I was in labor but didn't need her yet. Originally I'd planned for her to come stay with the kids if it happened at night, but I decided I might want her with me instead. Stuck with the indecision, I just told her to wait. I can see now how that was kind of mean! I got her all keyed up and left her hanging. But after that, things started happening kind of quickly.

I told Chris about the few last minute things I wanted him to do. He kept coming into the room to check on me, but I was just laying on the bed in the dark, taking it one contraction at a time. I kept feeling like I needed to pee, so I was up and in the bathroom between almost every contraction. It felt good to rest between them until about 11 PM when Chris's mom came over. He'd called her to come stay with the kids in case I needed my mom to come help at the hospital. By that time, I was swaying a bit with every other contraction. Some of them I wanted to lay down for, some I needed to move through.

At 11:30, I was just thinking that the contractions were getting too intense. I had two back-to-back that were painful and immediately felt like I had to pee again. I got up and took a step toward the bathroom and felt a warm gush, and knew that my water had broken. I hurried the last few steps and made it to the toilet, peed, and tried to get the water to slow down. I had to swap out my undies for dry ones, but didn't think to put a pad on because I wasn't really leaking any more. I grabbed my phone and headed out to the living room where Chris and his mom were sitting on the couch. I said, "It's time to go. My water just broke."

Chris jumped up and started running around grabbing our bags while Bridgett helped me get my shoes on. There was a short discussion about which hospital to go to; I'd wanted to go to Southwest, even though we were closer to Legacy, because I'd had a better experience there. Bridgett wanted to know if I was up for the longer car ride but I knew what I wanted. We took the Blazer, and we still joke about how Chris "took his time, meandering down the back roads" to get there. Hah! I think we made that trip in record time. I had 3 contractions between our house and there, including the one in the parking lot, and my contractions were only about 3 minutes apart by then.

We got inside and went to the desk to check in. I wasn't sure what the date was so asked "Is it Tuesday yet?" Everyone looked at the clock, and the second hand swept past the 12. It was 12:00 AM Tuesday the 27th. Chris and I said "Looks like baby chose his birthday after all."  I was taken to Triage and checked out, contracting the whole time. I was 8 cm and 90%, and not at all sure I could do it without drugs, but wasn't about to ask for them.

I was helped into a gown in Triage, and things get a little fuzzy from here on. I remember most of it, but was so focused on my body that I lost my sense of time and wasn't able to communicate very well. The nurse who took us from Triage to our room was very nice, and she talked to me the whole time about her experience in Alaska, helping native women delivering, and talking about the beauty of birth. Her name was V (I think). We heard harps and chimes on our way to our room and she said "Ah, another angel has entered the world." I learned later that that music is played each time a baby is born there. A nice touch!

In my room, Chris put our bags away and everyone else got busy. V was prepping something. The on-call OB (Dr. Morgan) came in with a young male resident and asked if I minded if he tagged along. It's a learning hospital, and I was gonna give this kid a lesson in natural childbirth! I said I didn't mind, and went back to focusing on myself. Leaning over a table during contractions felt good, as did walking. I did both until I had to be checked again. I didn't want to lay down, but did it anyway, and found I was 10 cm and probably 98%. I just had "a small lip of cervix" left.

My nurse was very helpful and coached me through my contractions, reminding me "low, low" when I'd start to get breathy or breathing high. Eventually I was almost growling through those contractions. My doctor and nurse had left the room for... something. Just then, I started feeling pressure. I said so, to nobody in particular, and went back to concentrating on my body. Chris told me later that the resident was the only one there besides us, and he kind of freaked out and started suiting up like he was prepping for a natural disaster.

When the OB and nurse came back, there was a short discussion. Suddenly I felt like maybe pushing through a contraction would feel good so I pushed just a little. It did feel good. Then I was being ushered to the bed while trays of instruments were uncovered and wheeled over. My nurse coached me through a couple more contractions, saying I shouldn't push yet because of the lip of cervix. She had me doing the "he - he - he" Lamaze breathing technique to keep from pushing while the OB helped to push the lip out of the way.

Suddenly, I was told it was okay to start pushing. With the next contraction, I pushed. I was in pain but knew it would get better, and the most prevalent feeling was intensity. Chris had one leg and V had the other. I was on my back in the bed but feeling okay with it at that point. Baby had turned and was moving down exactly how he was supposed to. With that contraction, I got baby's head just to crowning. I could feel how far I was stretched. The OB was pouring mineral oil on me and massaging, trying to get the skin to stretch instead of tear. I lost my contraction there, with everyone cheering me on, and baby's head crowning. I remember thinking "I can't do anything but this" and panting a little as I just... held him there. I couldn't push, I couldn't let him slip back. I waited a full minute for my next contraction, just holding baby right there.

With the next contraction, I pushed again. The OB was telling me to push, Chris was repeating her, and V was offering praise. Baby's head came out and the OB said "Reach down and feel your baby!" I was in a trance at this point, overwhelmed by everything happening, and said "Oh, I can feel him all right!" But I didn't reach down. The contraction was still squeezing, I was still pushing, and baby's shoulders were stuck. One was out, one was in, and there was a scramble while I was told to keep pushing, keep pushing! and the doctor and resident both had their hands on me and baby, trying to get his second shoulder out. Everyone was saying he must big, and I knew I was SO CLOSE to delivering him and SO CLOSE to being done. I couldn't take it, and started yelling at them to just GET HIM OUT already. I pushed again, and felt his second shoulder come out, and V said "Just a little one now, just a grunt," and I gave a little push and delivered my baby, all natural.

There were lots of comments on his size, and when they put him on my chest I knew he was a big boy. I delivered the placenta and got 2 little stitches, all while snuggling Makua. When I was fixed up a bit, they took him to weigh him and everyone was astonished at how big he was, and how well I did. I felt really good afterward. I got that endorphin rush I'd missed with the other two, and even though it was just after 1 AM, I had enough energy to eat, drink, nurse Makua, laugh with Chris, chat with my nurses, and (finally) go pee.

We stayed the rest of that night and the following night, opting to skip the 2nd full night my insurance would have paid for in favor of our own bed. I had sore nipples from the start but requested a shield, shells, and lanolin, and met with a lactation consultant. My milk came in before we even checked out of the hospital, and Makua was a good eater, except that he'd fall asleep after only a short time on the breast. This manifested in other feeding issues, but that's fodder for another post.

Story of my life

Lately, it feels like my default setting is "overwhelmed." This week is getting the best of me. This quarter at school is getting the best of me. This schedule is getting the best of me. I usually take an hour of downtime each evening for myself, my sanity, my health, but it's never as it's intended to be, since I KNOW I should be doing something else. Some homework assignment that I didn't have time to finish the day before, some chore around the house that's constantly behind, some stupid daily-life task, like calling to schedule doctor or dentist appointments, or that e-mail from work...

If I slow down, even for a minute, I feel like I'll stop completely. I have SO much on my plate right now, and not enough time to do it in, or hands to complete the tasks, or memory space to even remember it all.

(this is a blog, so you can't see it, but I was just derailed for almost 40 minutes right there)

MAN.

I'm feeling the pressure at school. I am SO excited about the classes I'm taking this term; they're ones I've wanted to take for over a year (Python programming and HTML) and I've scored the best (IMHO) instructor at Clark for these topics, and I feel like I'm letting myself down because I can't put as much time into these classes as I want to.

I WANT to spend a couple of hours each night just tweaking my web pages or screwing around in the Python GUI, but I can't. How could I possibly?! My family demands SO MUCH of my attention right now, and when it's not them, it's things related to them. The laundry, the dishes, the packing of the lunchboxes, the constant need for my attention to read a book or help them get dressed or undressed or change a diaper or turn on the TV or go outside or get them something to eat or drink or play with them... and that's just the kids.

I love my kids (understatement of the decade). I know they're not going to need my help or want my attention forever, and I am trying to cherish every day with them because every day they get older and change and it happens so quickly, and yet so gradually... but MAN.  I also need to find the time for Chris, who does just as much around the house (well, ALMOST) as I do and who also wants my attention. But what about me? I'm 7 months pregnant and average 6.5 hours of sleep each night, which isn't really enough for me even when I'm not growing a human. So which thing wins? When I have a finite amount of time in each day and more to do than can possibly get done, how do I  prioritize a seemingly endless list of equally important tasks?

If you know, will you tell me? I'll listen to your explanation in just a few minutes, after I finish these 2 past-due homework assignments, mail off letters to the HOA for my boss, call DHS and the kids' day care to adjust their schedule, take Liloa in for an immunization that was missed at his last appointment before they kick him out of day care on Monday, carve these pumpkins, get dinner started, let the contractors in to work on the furnace, and maybe have some lunch. If I get around to it.

Vacation

Let's consider this almost two year break from blogging a vacation, shall we? Much, much, MUCH has happened in my life and I keep intending to write a catch-up series, maybe an entry for each month that I was gone, but as time goes on that task seems more daunting than enjoyable and I find myself avoiding it.

So instead of saddling myself with one more freaking task, I will come back to this blog with the enjoyment it was intended to provide me. Entries will likely contain a mix of current events and nostalgia. Feel free to let your mind wander along with mine.

The reason for today's post is to brain-dump, I suppose, a lot of things that have been weighing on my mind that I'd like to unload and move on from. I have enough to deal with in my simple day-to-day goings on that I really don't need my spare brainpower to be devoted to dissecting these issues in the background. So in random order (for this is how my brain works when overloaded) here we go:

Baby #3 will be here in January. About 5 months from now, we will add a third little person (sex as yet unknown) to our household and it will be everything that a new child always is: wonderful, exciting, terrifying, exhausting, joyful, challenging... As this is my third "rodeo" I have an idea of what to expect, and as such, have no delusions about my abilities (or lack thereof) immediately following the birth. I am hoping for a slightly easier birth experience than I had with Liloa (PLEASE less tearing this time) and more support for my intense, unwavering desire to nurse one of my children for longer than a month.

Leading into... nursing. Hindsight is SO 20/20. Looking back I can see my mistakes and think "If only I had known x, y, or z at the time, I could've nursed longer!" I've always wanted to nurse my babies. I'm a firm believer in breastmilk being the best thing for babies and I admire the shit out of women who breastfeed. I tried, with both of my boys, and you can bet your ass I'll try again with this baby. I feel like I know more than I did, and am better prepared, but... I doubt myself and my abilities this time, where I didn't before.

My attempts at nursing Kawika and Liloa were hard-fought and ended prematurely, both times. And I felt like a failure after each time that relationship ended. I hope the third time's the charm, as it's likely to be my last chance. But that self-doubt, oh! Add that to the logistical challenges I'm going to face being at home with all 3 kids largely on my own, and part of me is tempted to give up before I even try. But that stubborn side, that logical one that knows what's best for baby, that side that bristles every time I hear a woman nursing in public was asked to cover up, THAT side won't let me give up without a fight.

In the same vein as nursing (insofar as it applies to newborn-related challenges) I've decided to cloth diaper from the get-go this time. I didn't start cloth with Loa until he was about 6 months old, and never put cloth on Kawika (until this year, for night-time diapers) so I'm a bit intimidated. However, the downright adorableness of those tiny diapers is TOO MUCH right now so I'm focusing on how fun it will be instead of how much extra laundry I'll be doing.

Our Blazer is DOA. They key is stuck in the ignition and won't turn over. Google results are varied and range from the not-so-bad, "Just a jammed key, happened to me, try x, y, z, good as new..." to the awful "You'll need a replacement steering cylinder, ignition switch, and transmission." This is particularly bad news because we were planning to SELL this car to get a down payment together for a new car. My Maxima is also on its last legs, it seems, and starts slowly or not at all depending on its mood. It probably just needs the starter replaced (oh, is that all?) but that's another $300 I wasn't planning to spend on that car. Meanwhile, we'll eventually need a car that fits 3 car seats ANYWAY so let's just get rid of the two junky ones and get one nice one. Right? Oh, down payments and APR's and my credit score is WHAT?! Well, shit...

And school. Oh, school! If it wasn't for having a baby in January (about 6 months earlier than I'd planned) I would take the last classes I need for my AAS in Computer Support during Winter term. I'd graduate in spring. Or I could take 20 more credits over the next 2 terms and graduate next September with 2 degrees. That was the plan. But plans change, as mine have, and now I have to think of a new plan. I am so frustrated that I am SO close to being done with my AAS and I can't quite finish it in time. I'm scared that taking a term off (or two) might turn into me never going back and finishing, which would mean the last year and a half of my life was wasted. But again, I know my limitations, and maintaining even a half-time school schedule with a newborn is... well... damn near impossible. *sigh*

I thrive on challenges. I kick ass at finding solutions. I am a planner, and once I have a good plan in place, I am a master executor. But I am floundering here. I can't even think of a viable plan to continue to work on my degree(s) AND have a third child.

Discarded plans:
1. Take ALL OF THE CREDITS I need to finish my AAS in fall term.
<i>Whoops, that's 22 credits, which means I can't work, and unless Chris has a full time job lined up for this winter (he doesn't) I can't NOT work</i>
2. Take 1 class in Winter term to keep my student status and make (slow) progress toward the AAS.
<i>Whoops, if I'm taking less than 6 credits (half time) my children won't be able to go to day care, leaving my only option an online course, and pickings are SLIM as far as what I have left to take for my degree.</i>
3. Stay enrolled full time in Winter term
<i>HAH, yeah right, with a NEWBORN?! Who would watch baby while I was in class, anyway?</i>

Current plan:
1. Take 12 credits Fall term. Take Winter term off. Possibly Spring term off. Try to re-enroll in school for Spring or Summer term. Try to get day care lined up again (which involves coordinating between my school, our state's subsidy program, my job if I still have one, and Chris job). Try to find another day care that will take a 3 or 6 month old since our current provider will not. Try not to FREAK THE HELL OUT about leaving my infant in someone else's care. Go back to school for TEN MEASLY CREDITS and then... Attempt to find a job after being out of the workforce for three years? Try to finish my second AA? Or go for a BS?

Backup plan:
See Discarded Plan #2, plus lots of crossing-of-fingers for a 3-credit online course that will fit the "elective requirements" of my AAS.

All this, and a stomach bug? Please, go on.

But no, I will stop. I have spewed enough for now and this blog is starting to sound more like a pity party than a brain dump. Maybe now I can focus on something productive.

Adventures in nursing

A blog written in hindsight, about my misadventures nursing my first two children.

With Kawika, had I known about the 3-week-old growth spurt, cluster feeding, and the cycle of milk production, I'd have been fine. We had to use a shield because he had trouble latching onto my flat nipples, but I didn't mind and he didn't mind. We were nursing comfortably up until that point where he started cluster feeding. And I panicked, thinking my supply had dried up or he wasn't getting enough, and I started supplementing with formula. After that, my supply really did tank, and then I went back to work and dried up instantly. He did just find on Enfamil. I mourned that loss, more so after doing extensive research on nursing and newborns and realizing what had happened.

Liloa was different in that every nurse and LC we saw (5 total) in those early days agreed that he had a great latch. Our technique was perfect, good job! And we didn't need a shield, even with my flat nipples. But it hurt like... FIRE. Needles. Nails. Cheese grater. And after less than a week, my nipples were so cracked they bled. I had canyons across both nipples stretching onto my areolas. I bled during nursing, and cried, and bled when I pumped, and cried, and all the lanolin, gel pads, ice packs, heat packs, and shields did NOTHING to help. It got to the point where when he'd start showing hunger signs, I'd cry, just THINKING about the impending pain. So I stopped nursing, and gave him a bottle. The Similac was hard on his stomach; he got very gassy and constipated and I felt terrible, knowing I had what he needed and I couldn't bring myself to give it to him because of my own pain. I intended to nurse him again, bring my supply back up, resume that relationship that I really, REALLY wanted, just as soon as those fissures healed a little. 

I tried. I didn't want to wait too long, for fear of supply issues. I took herbal lactation blend supplements, ate oatmeal, and pumped when I wasn't nursing him, to try to maintain some milk. And it still hurt. So. Bad. But as soon as I'd healed a little, we tried nursing again, with a shield this time, and I was back to the unbearable pain. So we took another break, a little longer. During this break, we switched him to Similac Sensitive, and he was a much happier baby, and by the time those huge, deep cracks had healed and I'd gotten over enough fear to try again, Liloa wasn't really interested in nursing anymore. He got what he needed faster and with less effort from the bottle. Thus ended my attempt at nursing my second child. 

In hindsight, I think his latch was good - to start. But then he'd slip down. I don't know if he'd get lazy, or shift around during feeding, but his latch would change to a bad one and I didn't notice. I didn't take him of and relatch him, because I was just so grateful that he was eating at all. And it's so hard to see those things in the middle of that postpartum haze where everything seems blown out of proportion. I was hurting from a third degree perineal tear and episiotomy, and it hurt to sit. Kawika was only 18 months old and needed more of my time and attention than I could give him. Chris had to go back to work, and my mom was... busy? I needed so much more help in that time than I got. 

Maybe next time will be better.

Liloa's Birth Story

Short version:  Liloa Christopher was born on 10/15/12 at 4 pm.  He weighed 8 lbs 12 oz and was 21 inches long.

Long version:  Our due date of October 7^th came and went with me being dilated to 4 cm and 50% effaced.  My doctor was sure I’d go into labor on my own, but we scheduled an induction for the 15^th (41w1d) just in case.  As it turns out, Liloa was very comfortable and the eviction was served.  We arrived at the hospital at 6:45 AM on the 15^th.  The nurses checked me in but then realized that we weren’t on the schedule.  My doctor’s office had forgotten to send over some paperwork so the hospital wasn’t aware that we were supposed to be there.  They put us in a waiting room and called my doctor, who confirmed that we wanted to go ahead with the induction, and then they showed us to a L&D room.  I got into a gown and discussed the plan with my nurse, who was very nice. 

It was a strange experience, going in for an induction.  You’re not already in labor so there’s nothing to focus on, like contractions.   You’re just... waiting.  They started the pitocin drip by 7:30 AM.  I wanted to deliver without any drugs or interventions at all, but because it was an induction, I had to reevaluate my plan.  I had to be monitored continuously, but Liloa kept moving around and the monitors weren’t able to keep a continuous line on his heart rate.  He was doing fine, but every time I’d move around, they’d lose him on the monitor.  Only, they kept telling me to keep moving.  I took walks with my IV pole, one hand holding the monitor in a spot I hoped they’d get a good reading from, and kept getting called back to have the monitor adjusted.  He was OP, or “sunnyside up” so it was hard to get a good reading on him, and then I’d move, or he would move, and we’d lose his line completely, and everybody was getting frustrated but trying not to show it.

They increased the pitocin in small amounts hourly.  We watched the morning news, Let’s Make A Deal, and The Price is Right while I waited to feel something more than these irregular, only-slightly-uncomfortable contractions.  At 10:30 my doctor checked me and I was at a 5, and she decided to break my water.  They turned the pitocin up again. 

By noon the contractions were painful and I was doing Lamaze breathing techniques and sitting on a birthing ball to keep things progressing while managing the pain.  The next 2 hours were intense.  My body had finally got the clue that we were DOING something and started to contract on its own.  Between the pitocin contractions and my contractions, I was in a lot of pain and not able to relax much between them.  The breaks between contractions were short and the pain never went away completely.  Because Liloa was OP I was having some mild back labor too.  Standing and swaying helped me through the contractions.  My nurse tried to get me to lay down for a while, since I’d been on my feet all morning trying to get Liloa to turn, but when I laid down and couldn’t move like I wanted to the pain felt completely unmanageable.

By 1:45 I’d had enough of the cluster contractions.  The Lamaze breathing was making me panicky and Chris (quite frankly) was no help.  He spent most of my labor surfing the internet on his phone and occasionally tossing a “Good job babe” my way.  I asked for the epidural.  The anesthesiologist was there very quickly.  I signed the paperwork and got up on the bed so she could do what she had to.  I had 4 very intense contractions during the whole procedure and was reduced to tears and shaking by the time she was done.  When they let me lay back, my nurse checked me while we waited for the epi to kick in and I was 8 cm dilated.  It was 2:45 PM.

At 3 PM Chris wanted to run home and let the dog out.  We live close to the hospital, and I was in a good place pain-wise, so I was OK with him going.  The nurse told him it was a good time to go, so he left.  The epidural was good; much better than the one I had with Kawika.  I could still feel the contractions and they were still a little painful; they felt like early labor pains, no longer the uncontrollable monsters I’d been having.  I could move my legs with almost no assistance, and I didn’t feel nauseous.  Overall, I was very pleased.

At 3:30, my doctor came in to see how I was doing and decided to check me.  I’d been dozing a little since Chris left at 3 and was kind of irritated that she had come back so soon to bug me.  But as soon as she put her hand down there I noticed that I felt different.  Her eyebrows shot up and she said “Wow!  You’re... 10 centimeters and plus 2 station!  Let’s have a baby!”  The nurse looked at me and said “You’d better call him.”  I called Chris, who didn’t answer, so I sent a text: “Come back, don’t dawdle, we’re ready.”

The nurses and my doctor started setting everything up, chatting about cars and the weather and the recent string of bicycle thefts in my doctor’s neighborhood.  Everyone was suited up and they put my legs in the stirrups just as Chris walked in.  He looked around wild-eyed, took off his jacket, came to stand by my head, gave me a kiss and my doctor said “Okay, here’s a contraction, and, push!!”  He was just in time!

It became obvious pretty quickly that Liloa wasn’t tolerating the pushing very well.  I’d only pushed 3 times through 1 contraction and they were having me shift from side to side, take deep breaths, and push even harder.  After the 2^nd set of pushes, my doctor got very serious and I started to feel scared.  They put an oxygen mask on my face and put NICU on standby.  My doctor leaned over and said “Listen, Julie, you need to get him out NOW.  You can do this, he’s almost here, but you need to get him out.”  One more contraction, and I pushed so hard.  I had to hold it for 10, take a quick breath, and push for 10 again, and again, and again... I felt a strange sensation and someone said “Here’s his head.”  I glanced at Chris and he was looking at the baby, looking scared.  I pushed again and delivered his shoulders and body, and... silence.  Half a minute, maybe, while my doctor and a nurse rubbed him and suctioned out his mouth and nose.  I could see he was blue, and not moving much. 

Suddenly he gave a huge cry, and everyone seemed to give a collective sigh of relief.  They put him on my chest and toweled him off a little more, and he was very pink and very noisy.  Chris and I kissed each other, and kissed Liloa, and marveled at how long his fingers and toes were.  His head wasn’t the slightest bit cone shaped, and despite delivering him sunnyside up, he didn’t have any marks on his face from my pubic bone like Kawika did when he was born.

The doctor spent a good 20 or 30 minutes stitching me up.  I realized that I’d been up in the stirrups with her doing her thing down there for quite some time and asked Chris.  He said “It’s bad, babe.  It’s real bad.  She cut you.”  It turns out she gave me an episiotomy to help Liloa out faster because his cord was crushed when he was down in my birth canal and he wasn’t getting enough oxygen.  After the episiotomy, because I was still pushing so hard, I tore.  I had a 3^rd degree tear and a hematoma.

But Liloa is perfectly healthy and suffered no ill effects from his birth experience.  Overall, he’s an easier baby than Kawika was, and that’s saying something.  We’re truly blessed!

Almost, almost

39w4d

So close!

I had a checkup yesterday afternoon and it was determined that I am 4 cm dilated and 60% effaced.  What a great start, for not even being due yet!  I had the good doctor strip my membranes hoping to get things moving but all I've seen so far is a slight increase in cramping and low back pain and some extra *ahem* material making its way out.  Of the slimy variety.  Gross.

I have another appointment scheduled for the 10th if there's no baby by then, where she'll probably strip my membranes again and then marvel at how I could possibly still be pregnant.  She scheduled an induction date for the 15th, laughing the entire time.  "There's no way you'll still be pregnant by then.  It would be some freak of nature thing!"  She's the expert; I only hope she's right.  I'm still hoping for this weekend, but a day or two relaxing and finalizing things wouldn't be awful, either.

Coco reminded me that today is the 5th.  And rent is due on the 5th.  I'm not sure my brain has been processing anything other than baby-related news for the last week or so.  I had to check our bank account to make sure we even had enough (we do) and call Chris to remind him to drop off a check.  He said he thought about it yesterday but didn't say anything because he knew today was payday.  Duh, I still would have appreciated a reminder since it had obviously slipped my mind ENTIRELY, as evidenced by the fact that I didn't mention it ONCE during the last week, which is so unlike me.  Men are so oblivious.

Kawika had a GREAT last day at day care, of course.  This week at drop off he hardly fussed at all, didn't actually cry, and by Thursday morning he was happily reaching for his teacher and waving bye-bye to me.  He was happy as a clam when I picked him up and gave his teacher kisses.  I don't know if it's that he finally got used to it, just in time for me to pull him out, or if he somehow knew it was his last day.  Either way it makes me kind of sad.  I almost wish I could afford to keep him there at least a couple of days per week, but if I'm not working, I just can't. 

When I picked Kawika up yesterday I made it a point to clean out his cubby and grab everything that was his so 1) It wasn't in the way and 2) So we could use it.  One of the teachers also handed me a handful of art projects and I thought "Wow, that's a lot of art!"  Well it turns out that it's not his!  Some poor little kiddo named Emese is now missing all of their art.  Don't worry, Emese's parents, it's safely on my garage work bench and I am planning on bringing it back.  I love every stupid preshus random crayon scribble Kawika made on a leaf-shaped cut out that probably held his attention for all of 30 seconds, and I'm sure you want your child's version, so never fear.  It will be returned.  I won't even ask for ransom.

Byron Carol

Rest in peace, grandpa.  You were loved; you will be missed.

Belly, belly

Okay, first, my 38 week photo:

Also, I colored my hair.  Yay, red!  Chris is a little disappointed; he says I look like a ginger.  Whatever, I like it, and if you didn't want me to do it you should have said so when I asked your opinion a week ago instead of saying "Whatever, babe, it's your hair, do what you want."  Because of course my reaction was "Yeah, it is, and I will!"

Now for some possibly-exciting-but-also-meaningless-news:  I'm dilated to 3.5 cm!  Or I was as of yesterday afternoon when my doctor checked my cervix.  I've had a LOT of Braxton-Hicks contractions this last month, and on Wednesday this week I actually went home early because I had so many.  They were not consistent, ranging from 3 minutes apart to 12 minutes apart, but it went on ALL DAY LONG.  It was tiring.  It was uncomfortable.  I went home and laid down and finally fell asleep at 11:30.  When I woke up Thursday, they had stopped.  Then I got another dozen or so Thursday before my appointment.  I've had another dozen or so today.  I don't mind, really.  They're uncomfortable but not painful, and if they're helping with the dilation and effacement, keep 'em coming!

It's exciting to me because I only dilated to a 2 before starting "real" labor with Kawika and he was a week overdue.  To be dilated to 3.5 with a week (and a few days) until my due date... well... that's exciting!  It makes me think that this kiddo will make an early entrance.  I'd really like an October baby, though, so I hope he doesn't come quite yet.

I have it on relatively good authority that he will make his appearance on the 4th.  I will let you know, of course.

In the mean time, I'm getting everything finalized this weekend.  No more procrastinating.  After my Lovely Ladies Lunch, which is planned for this Saturday, I'm going to IKEA for more organizational-type things.  Then I'm getting a pedicure.  Then I'm going to supervise while Chris moves the 2nd dresser out of our room and sets up the pack n play.  Then I'll endlessly organize and reorganize the baby's diapers and pj's so we're ready.  It all sounds like a lovely plan; hopefully it works out that way.

In the mean time, I'm going to try to ignore this cycle of BHC/back pain/BHC/back pain.  It sucks.

Bunch of Sickos

The day care funk persists.  Kawika still has a runny nose, though it's not green any more.  He's also developed a chest cough now, as he's not able to blow his nose and I can't keep up with the snot-sucking when he's out of my care all day, so of course the drips made their way down.  The cough sounds awful and he whimpers a little after a hard cough like it hurts him.  Poor baby.

Saturday he was pretty miserable, so we hung out at home together all day.  Mostly he laid on me and whined.

Absolutely pathetic.

 When the baby Advil kicked in and the fever would recede a little, he'd play quietly with whatever was at hand. 

Just before our 2nd shirt change of the day.

I am also infected with what I presume is a modified version of the funk.  My nose is runny and I'm slightly feverish.  My throat has that awful swollen feeling during the day and the obnoxious tickle at night.  I went home early once this week and called in sick the day after.  As that day was already paid for and Kawika is acting normally, I took him to day care to avoid scheduling confusion.  It was nice to be home by myself for a while, but I kept thinking that I heard him down the hall and occasionally felt guilty for not keeping him with me.  I'm at home, why shouldn't I be watching my own kid?

Chris convinced me that it was fine; normal even, to have other people watch your kids while you take care of yourself for a little while.  I think it's karmic retribution that has him stuffed up, scratchy-throated, sweating, and puking today.  Either that or another case of the funk. 

Funk aside, Kawika seems to be getting used to daycare.  Just in time for me to yank him out again!  LOLz.  No really, he only gets upset when I drop him off now.  He's happy when I pick him up and the teachers say he spends less time needing to be held every day.  Yay!  He even made me some art yesterday:

Paint, marbles, bucket: toddler masterpiece

It's obviously pure genius.  I'm going to have to frame it.  I love how it was labeled "Ball," too.  Does it have to be a ball?  Why not an abstract representation of our planet?  Or Kawika's interpretation of a different planet?  Or perhaps an underwater scene?  The possibilities are endless!  Quit stifling my child's creative genius!  Har har.  Who am I kidding?  He probably sat on his teacher's lap and half-heartedly pushed the bucket away so she was forced to finish the project for him.  Stubborn little bug.

Craving

I was really, really craving some fresh fruits and veggies tonight and not really feeling 100% healthy, so I figured I'd hit up Jamba Juice.  They put fruits and veggies together, see, where you can't taste the veggies, and then they can add all kinds of amazing potions and powders to "boost" your smoothie into super-healthy realms.  I convinced Chris to come because he promised me a family outing and also, I'll buy you a damn smoothie, get in the car.

So we loaded up and drove to Jamba Juice.  It's not super close to home, but not super far, either.  I got a Cold Blaster (lots of C-vitamin fruits with Immunity and Antioxidant Boosters) and Chris got something purple that didn't taste as good as mine.  HaHA!  Anyway, it was totally worth it.  Just ask Kawika. 

Yes, chest clip, I know. We hadn't started driving yet.

I sat in the back seat with him on the way home because I just KNEW that if I didn't share he would screech the whole way home.  As it was I could barely pry the cup out of his hands to get some myself.  I think he gave himself a brain freeze though, so that was justified/entertaining.  =D

Day Care Drama

The day care drama continues.

We had a screwy week last week what with the long weekend.  Kawika didn't go to my mom's on Monday, but he went to day care on Tuesday, and by Wednesday night he had green snot dripping out of his nose.  Mom was going out of town for the weekend and couldn't watch him Friday, so I shuffled his day care schedule, moving his usual Thursday to Friday.  He was still sick Friday morning though, so instead of returning him to the center to spread the funk to others, we kept him home.  When yesterday rolled around and we went to the center, he wasn't having any of it.  I couldn't even set him down to sign him in at the front desk; he immediately started to cry.  Poor sweet boy!

After talking to the director, it was determined that he'd likely adjust faster if his days at the center were back to back; since he's really too young to understand the Tues-Thurs pattern, it just seems like he's doing something different every day and it's probably pretty unsettling.  I know my mom needs her Thursdays, so instead of shuffling, I just added in Wednesdays for the next few weeks.  Now he will attend 3 days per week, in a row, and go to my mom's on Mondays and Fridays.  I really, really hope this is better for him and he has an easier time.  I hate picking him up at the end of the day and seeing his tear-stained face.  I just envision him crying all day long when nobody's holding him, which I know they can't do all the time. 

Part of it is his age; he's aware of mom and dad and grandma, and knows that "all the other people" are NOT mom, dad, and grandma, and that's just unacceptable (to him).  Part of it is the constant switching in his schedule.  I'm hoping the consistency of being at the center 3 days in a row will help.  I could tell my mom was disappointed when I told her last night that she wouldn't be watching Kawika today, but I think it's probably better for both of them.  I know she's tired and watching him tires her out faster.  I know he needs to adjust to the day care environment.

Still crossing my fingers for something awesome to happen later this year, like... I don't know.  Powerball?  I suppose in order to WIN the lottery you should PLAY the lottery, but a girl can dream.

Dream BIG

Labor Day - no labor

Well, I didn't go into labor over Labor Day weekend (hooray! and boo! simultaneously).  We did get some quality family time while camping at the coast though.  For the last few years, we've gone to the same campground for Labor Day weekend.  It was Chris's uncle's tradition, really, but it seems he's passed the torch, as he didn't come this year.  Chris and I reserved (and paid for) two camp sites way back in January, which is when you have to reserve them for Labor Day if you actually want a spot.  We expected a few aunts and uncles or cousins to come with, but nobody seemed to be in the camping mood this year, except for us.  Luckily we were able to get a refund for the second site when we checked in.

The sites that we reserved were OK.  Well, one was OK, one was awesome.  We'd never camped at those specific sites before and we seemed to strike gold, since the one that we chose (out of the two we could pick from) was totally awesome. Last year's site sucked, and the year before was just OK, so Chris and I decided that V-9 would be our new spot from here on out.  It's in a great location within the park, decently sized, and you can't really see your neighbors. 

Sorry for the poor quality; it's a share of a share! Speaking of neighbors, though, we actually had some nice ones this year.  The group across from us (the only ones we could see consistently) caught a LOT of crab, more than they could eat, and they brought us a plate on our second night there.  I attribute that to the fact that Kawika was very charming.  Every time one of them would walk over the little hump between their site and the road to use the water faucet, he'd call out "Hi!" like they were long-lost friends.

 

Snuggling the belly

My budding photographer

Chris took a few good ones, too, that I should steal from him.  There's one of the three of us that's just hilarious; none of us is doing the same thing or looking in the same direction.  It's one of those crazy ones that just happen to work because you snapped it right when you did, not a second before or after.  Oh well, here are a few more that I took.

We got good use out of our hiking backpack-style baby carrier.  We took walks to the beach, me waddling along, Chris packing Kawika on his back.  Days were warm and sunny.  Nights were chilly but somehow the three of us fit on our queen-sized air mattress (and Wonton too!) and we were plenty cozy.  Kawika likes camping, as near as I can tell.  He seemed to have fun running around the site and getting into stuff, anyway.  I'm already looking forward to next year, when we'll have TWO little boys.  Oh my goodness, I'm going to have TWO KIDS.

I'd better pack my hospital bag; I still haven't gotten around to that!  ;)

Overscheduled

Wow, what a crazy week! 

Chris started his new business this week: lawn care.  He's been out every day taking care of some long-overdue-for-a-mow properties that a property management company hired him to handle.  I think in a few cases they haven't been mowed in months, multiple.  Chris is coming home telling me stories of weeds as tall as him in a side yard; 3 passes over one lawn just to get it down to a manageable height, and overgrown brambles.  So he's been working his butt off during the day, coming home to eat & nap, then going to his night job.  I'm so proud of him for being motivated enough to handle this; it will help us out so much when I'm on maternity leave with a reduced income.  It just sucks that we don't get much family time right now.

Meanwhile, Kawika has started day care.  He still goes to my mom's three days per week, but the other two he's enrolled in a local center.  He's only gone twice now, and drop off this morning was rough for us both.  I think the first day I dropped him off he didn't realize I was going to LEAVE him there.  We'd visited twice before and I was there with him while he played.  This morning, he knew I was leaving and was NOT okay with it.  I finally just had to hand him to his teacher and watch the sobbing start.  It's heartbreaking, seeing your sweet little baby's face crumple up, the tears start flowing, the chubby little hands reaching out for you... it just makes me sick remembering.  I hope he's cheered up a little.  I hope he has fun with the other kids and interacts and gets to play with new, fun things that will make him forget he was so sad.  I don't have much hope for this, though.  When I picked him up after day 1, he was tired, whiny, hungry, and his eyes were all red like he'd been crying a lot more than they said he was.  I hope this transition phase doesn't last long.  I can't handle more days of crying all the way to work.

I'm exhausted.  I'm almost 35 weeks along now, and very uncomfortable.

Taken at work after I dropped K off at day care for the first time

This baby is running out of room and doesn't seem to realize it.  He's still very active, and it's getting really painful.  He's head down, which is awesome, but that means his strong little legs are constantly pushing out on the top of my belly, and his busy little hands are usually fluttering around behind my pubic bone, which just feels... weird.  His head is usually planted firmly on my bladder, which gets a painful jolt every time he rolls or stretches his legs.

I get a lot of Braxton-Hicks contractions.  I think they're doing something too, because it looks like I've been losing pieces of my plug.  I know it can and likely will regenerate at this point, but that doesn't mean it's not exciting nonetheless!  I had a dream last night that I went into labor and didn't have anything packed for the hospital.  I think my subconscious is telling me to get on the ball.

On a happier note, we are going camping this weekend.  It's Labor Day (ominous foreshadowing?) weekend, which means 3 days off work.  I can't even express how happy I am that we are going away as a family to get some quality time together.  I just wanna snuggle the crap out of my boy while I still have extra time and empty arms.

After a pretty successful attempt at feeding himself his own PB&J sandwich

And while he still wants to  =)  He's getting too big, too fast for my taste.

Day Care, Day 1

Today is Kawika's first day of real, actual day care.  I didn't really want him to go to day care but it needed to happen sooner or later.  Chris just started his own business doing landscaping-type work.  He had an opportunity (60+ properties just waiting for someone to come maintain them on a regular basis) and took it.  I'm proud of him for his initiative there.  He only needed a little help from me to get the ball rolling, but now he's out there working his butt off during the days, and still keeping the night job.  I'm not sure how long that will last before he's completely burnt out, but that's just how it's going for now.

Needless to say, he can't take Kawika with him all over town mowing lawns.  And my mom, bless her, will be taxed enough watching Kawika the 3 days per week that I pressured her into signing up for.  So Tuesdays and Thursdays for the next 6 weeks, Kawika will attend the day care center that I chose.  I did a lot of research on available options in our area, checked out their licenses and complaint histories, facilities, programs, schedules, and teachers.  I really liked the Christian option close to our house (surprising, as I am agnostic at best), but it was just too much money, and they actually were missing a few of the amenities of the other centers I toured.  The one I settled on is, I suppose, at the low-income end of things.  I don't see that as a bad thing, though.  It's affordable (barely), fairly close to home, has a good daily schedule and a USDA food program.  Their outside play area is fully contained and kid-sized.  The inside room has lots of different stations for different activities.  It may not be in the best part of town, but it's certainly not the worst.

Kawika and I had gone there twice before so he could get a little acclimated.  I talked to the teachers while he wandered and played.  He seemed to enjoy it.  But still... Dropping him off this morning was hard.  I managed to keep it together until I got out the front door, thank goodness, but I've been a mess ever since.  Seriously, I'm tearing up right now just writing this.  But I just called to check in and he seems fine.  He cried for about 10 minutes after I left (saw that coming; the look on his face when he realized I was leaving and he was staying was devastating).  But after the crying he went back to playing, ate a good breakfast, ate a morning snack, and they were just getting ready to go play outside.  He loves playing outside, so I'm glad he gets the opportunity to do that every day, with other little ones his age.

I'm still worried about nap time, lunch time, and this evening.  I don't want him to hate it there, and I don't want him to throw a fit when I take him back on Thursday.  I really hope he has fun and gets used to spending time with other kids.

On another note, we dog-sat for my brother this past weekend.  He has an Australian Shepherd named Zeus.  Aptly named, as he is the god of frisbee.  Or rather, the god of fetch.  That dog will play fetch until he's falling-down exhausted, which we did a number of times.  He only stays exhausted for about half an hour.  It was a definite change, having a bigger, high-energy dog in the house.  Kawika, of course, loved him. By Saturday morning he could say "Zeus" and was snuggling him every chance he got. 

Puppy kisses!

Awwww

Apparently, we need a bigger, snugglier dog.  After Zeus went home, Kawika kept asking about him, then trying to snuggle Wonton, who just growls a little then runs away.  What a turd!  A second dog will have to wait, though.  I think the second baby will keep me more than busy enough for the next year.

Daily Horoscope

I have my home page set up with a few personal gadgets.  I like launching one page and seeing lots of different, entertaining things on it.  Incidentally, because my home page is iGoogle, it will be going away next year, but that is neither here nor there at this point.  Next year is next year and I will probably, hopefully, get around to finding a substitution for iGoogle within the next year.  Of the gadgets on my home page, one is a Lilypie ticker telling me exactly how old Kawika is, lest I forget.  I also have local movie times, NFL scores, a random funny quote, a sneak peek of my e-mail inbox, and my daily horoscope, among others. 

Today's horoscope was so inspiring, I wanted to keep it.  So here it is:
Wednesday, August 22, 2012

 By Rick Levine

This is your special time of year to be reinvigorated by the radiant Sun's life force. Although you may start off in a bad mood, your attitude improves throughout the day. Look back over your previous year to take stock in what you've accomplished, re-evaluate your present path, and visualize the year ahead. Blow out the candles in your imagination and make your wishes come true.

 

My horoscopes lately have been eerily accurate.  Most of them have been reminding me to focus on the now while keeping my future plans alive.  Planning for changes to come, looking for opportunity, and seizing openings for growth or personal development.  Perhaps it's true what some people say, that horoscopes will always apply to you if you look for the connection hard enough.  For me, that's not been the case.  Sometimes they're right on and sometimes they're not.  I certainly don't make huge life changing choices based on some guy's interpretation of my astrological chart, but I find horoscopes entertaining, and I like to use the accurate ones as validation that I'm moving in the right direction.

I liked today's horoscope mainly because it was so optimistic.  I've been feeling very optimistic lately; the choices I'm making that are leading to big changes in my personal and professional lives are scary, but they're more exciting than anything else.  I am EXCITED about what's coming.  New baby, new business, new directions.  I have lined up 7 of 10 puzzle pieces to ensure that the next few years of my life are happy, productive, and fulfilling.  Those 7 pieces were the biggest ones; piece 8 is in the works and hopefully will fall in the right way so that I can officially make a decision. The last 2 pieces are just details.  Important details, but details nonetheless. I'm so close!! 

Sorry to be so vague, but until I've got ALL my ducks in a row, I'm hesitant to shout things from the rooftops.  In the meanwhile, though, chew on this:

 

Ooh, a tiny, cryptic picture!!  What do you suppose it means??