Jessica's Blog

In light of my healing, sleep deprivation, and parenthood of two older children, I'm not sure how to write about this in a humorous slant or cheeky way like I usually would.

Little Lady only gained one ounce over the last week.  She has not returned to birth weight.

The words my beloved pediatrician gave me were filled with support and love... but other words were used in our visit.  Words like "preemie" and "organ failure" and "used up her fat stores".  In other words.... she needs to gain weight now because she's used up all she had in the womb.  The next step for survival would be compromising organs.  not good.

I don't want to be fatalistic, as she is a healthy baby.  In short, I have to supplement breast feeding with 10 ounces of formula a day and return for another weigh in  on Monday. 

My milk is not fatty enough.  Most likely  due to having three kids in five years (and another failed pregnancy) my breasts are simply "tapped out" and producing "sugar water".  So Little Lady is getting nourishment and anti-bodies and all that benefit.... but the little chicka needs FAT.  It's what explains all the good diapers, good feeds, good rest and yet not much weight gain.  And yes, she is getting taller too!  She's just not a plump Jess baby like my other two were.

I was given a bottle of formula and time to feed her and weigh her again before leaving the office.

I cried.

and cried.

My dad was with me and soothed me with a "hey hey hey.... it's ok... what's this?  it's why we're here; you're doing all you can.. she'll be fine."  He handed me kleenex after kleenex after kleenex as I blew my nose, wiped my eyes, and wiped spilled formula out the corner's of Little Lady's mouth as she tentatively chugged, looking at me like "what the hell is this you are stuffing down my gullet?"  she got in just a couple ounces before letting us know she simply could not do more right now, thanks.

This is not what I wanted for her.  I cried the same way when Big Boy wouldn't latch on for five days... I hated giving him bottles because I wanted what was best for him.  And here I was doing my very darndest and best to nourish this beautiful little person... and in my eyes.... failing at it.

I completely "get it" in a very logical way.  I do not have my ego tied to another fully and exclusively breastfed child to 6 or 7 months.  I have had trouble pumping ( finding time to pump to stimulate more milk).  I have been taking herbal supplements to up my supply.  That seemed to be working.  I drink water constantly and eat healthy foods.  It's just not happening the way it should this time around.  I reserve the right to fully mourn this fact.

It's that mom-blame thing... "what could i do to fix it???  What am i doing wrong???"

Yes, I will still breastfeed.  the word from both pediatrician and OB following pediatrician is to nurse one side, supplement with the bottle.  If she won't bottle feed after finishing one breast, alternate breast feeding one side and then giving a bottle at the next feed.  With two older siblings at two different schools and therefore two different germ pools, Little Lady is going to need all the help she can get in the anti-body department.  I'll try to pump and store too, to stimulate more milk.

so.... there. 

Hubby sent me this article today.  You've probably heard about this, or you can watch the video.

http://www.kansascity.com/105/story/120315.html

It's a story about a group of visiting Buddhist monks making a mandala at the Union Station in Kansas City.  They had finished their work for the day.  The work was surrounded by poles and tape.  A mom comes through with a toddler she isn't keeping her eyes on.  And over the next full minute (while she is off camera somewhere doing something).. the security camera captures the kid (being a kid) dancing on, kicking around and generally destroying the mandala. 

I watched, smiled and sighed.... ah yes... much to learn in this.

Much like the Buddhist monks, having been one, I wasn't upset that the mandala was destroyed by the unattended toddler.  It's the whole value of impermanence that has kept me sane all these years.  The only constant is change. The mandala will be rebuilt.    The child simply thought it was colorful and fun and sand too!

But it really DOES piss me off that as the mom returns, she just scoops up the kid and walks away with nary a concern over what he had done.  Not telling anyone, or notifying a soul.  I mean, c'mon lady!  This incident does not jibe with my Buddhist belief in intention, or my western beliefs in integrity or accountability.

I am a mom who gets annoyed when I see little kids wreaking havoc  when it's clear the attending adult doesn't give a crap.  There is simply something reassuring about seeing a parent attempting to parent a child.  You have to at least TRY to do the right thing.  When you don't... well, we get a destroyed mandala and a news story about an anonymous mom and toddler who scurry off leaving a lesson, teaching, and piece of art in the dust... what a metaphor!

tsk tsk lady.  We all have really crappy days.  Especially with toddlers.  But ya gotta at least try to tow a line.

My sis is having a house warming party next weekend in Lincoln, CA.  This is outside of Sacramento, about a 4-5 hour drive from here.  I don't see us going to that party.  I am getting much better.  I even walked the dog a couple times yesterday while Little Lady was either crashed out or screaming her head off in the arms of a very patient Hubby.  But I don't see us spending the better part of a day in the Odyssey with a screaming newborn and/ or bored toddler and preschooler.  Not there yet.  I am very happy for her and her new *new from builder*  home she got all on her own.  I'll have to see it and let the kids run wild through it later, when there isn't a party on.

My Grandma Toni desperately would love to meet the baby.  I would love to have her meet Little Lady as well.  BUT  we simply don't have the time or resources to weather a two day drive to and from her house in the exceedingly hot desert right now.  We've not voyaged to the desert in the summer months in years; since we had kids.  We've also not driven there in a long while.  Flying really costs the same in terms of wear and tear on the psyche and time spent in transit.  Now, however, we would need to rent a BIG car for our now lovingly BIG family, thus upping the cost of the trip considerably.  Not like we could really afford the trip before.  Grandma is getting better, but not well enough post-op to travel just yet.  We'll have to see how that pans out.  Right now it's seeming that we won't realistically get down there until Little Lady is close to 6 months old.  We have our vacation time set for the dude ranch in August, and with desert summer heat, school calendar and upcoming work schedule changes, it's just not going to be happening.  Maybe, just maybe, grandma will be able to travel before we are?

My other Grandma Eleanor wants badly to see the baby.  She cried a little while on the phone with me shortly after the baby was born.  She is also not fully ambulatory after her surgery 9 months ago.  I'm not ready for the drive to Sacramento, and she can't do stairs yet.  This basically makes a visit to our home out of the question.  We have LOTS of stairs.  Her last e-mail she asked if there was a hotel where she could stay nearby.  There is... but how would we visit with her?  At the hotel?  My mom explains what modifications grandma needs in order to use a home comfortably, thus making it clear to me the visit will need to wait a while.

This show is not going to be going on the road for a bit.  This is an aspect of having a May Baby I hadn't thought of before.  My older two were born close to "the holidays" so travel was more part of the deal.  I doubt I would obsess about any of this if I were fully back on my feet.

Little Lady did not hit her birth weight today at the peds.  In fact, she only gained one ounce over the last week, according to the scale.  Still feisty and strong and "definitely not an underweight child." the doc said.

I was shocked.  Gimme a break!  That scale must be wrong!!  She eats often enough and voraciously enough.

"So, tell me.  When given the chance to sleep or eat, which do you do?" my ped asked me

"I.... I... uh, sleep.  RIght Honey?  I sleep."  I say while returning Little Lady to the breast, as we have decided to allow her a feeding and then weigh her again... in hopes another ounce or two would do the trick.  It helped a bit... clearly I am producing milk.

"Well, you will need to eat then.  Your milk isn't fatty enough just yet."

This was the appointment following the appointment of me being roto-rooted again.  I was having a dang skippy morning!

I haven't been eating much.  I admit it.  Just don't want to. Don't feel hungry, so why eat?  Well... guess the whole breast feeding motherhood thing needed to smack me upside the head. 

After leaving the peds we swung by the OBs again because Hubby (suffering an early migraine) had left the sling there, and then we stopped by the hospital to pick me up some "more milk plus" capsules.  I did this with my other two kids and didn't think I would need to for this little one, but I guess I do.

After picking up Honey Girl at school, we went to Johnny Rockets for lunch and I had the fattiest burger I could muster and a shake too.  No I didn't finish it.  Then we buzzed Trader Joes and I picked up stuff for a milk fattening dinner of meat loaf and mashers.  Little Lady slept through all of this.

Hubby was asking me if I was ok or if I want to stay at home for the afternoon's outings.  I told him that I was beginning to hate our bedspread from having to stare at it for so long, so please don't make me stay home!  I had driven the van all morning, was getting tired, and achy, but PULEEEZE  p-p-p-pleeeease don't ask me to stay home anymore! 

The director of Big Boy's school caught us in the parking lot at pick up time and offered us an amazing baby gift that we have decided to take her up on:  Big Boy enjoying full days of school for the rest of the academic year.  Their gift to us.  We blinked a few times with stupid grins on our faces, "Really???  Really????  wow!  Thanks!"

As I cooked dinner, and tidied the kitchen, Hubby would sneak up on me and give me hugs, rub my shoulder.  I think (I know) he's happy to see me up and at 'em again.  Worried, yes.  He admits he's watching me to see if my walk starts to falter or if my jaw tightens trying to hide pain. 

But hey.  I got out today... all day.  I drove today.  I started producing some hard core milk today.. and yes, my body now smells like maple syrup.  Little Lady is now snoozing soundly with the tell tale milk oozing from her cheek and radiant pink glow that tells me I'm doing a good job.

onwards....

I was cleaning up the kitchen the other night and thinking, "wahoo!  Look at me!  I'm emptying the dishwasher!  Look at me!  I'm walking around the kitchen!  I'm wiping counters!  This is super!"

Then last night it was even better, "Yay!  Look at me!  I'm picking up the living room, bending over, gathering items, swiffering and even doing a quick vacuuming!"

Then today was my check up.  The incision was having some drainage, so I got roto-rooted.  Irrigated.  scrubbed out and packed.  Good thing the nerves are still shot, so I didn't "feel" it.  It felt funky, bizarre... pokey...  then later it felt more odd.  Then it was just out and out was sore as heck and I was back taking the meds and fell asleep for a bit.  Walking got strange again.

I go back tomorrow and the next day to do the same thing so that the fluids don't get trapped in there and pop out weeks later in a more scary way.  I look like a teddy bear with a hole in it's tummy with some fluff hanging out.  Thankfully my doc is sparing me the job of doing this myself at home.  I mean really... I would not be psyched about that.

We also get Little Lady checked out tomorrow and see if she's back to birth weight.  My fingers are crossed and goodness knows she's been eating well.

My dad let me know he's still planning on being here next week to help, which is great.  I gives me a couple more days to be "back to normal".  Maybe he'll be more shadow than doer? we'll see.  In light of the recent loss of Grandma Doe, I wasn't sure if that would happen or not.

It is so hard to believe that three weeks ago I was walking two and a half miles a day.  I haven't even driven the van again yet, or walked the dog.  But still... holding Little Lady and seeing how she stops crying when she hears my voice is all so worth it. 

Still look forward to shrinking tho!!!

My best man Dave is going on an adventure with his (our?  thought I've not spoken to him in eons) friend Adam.  It's for a good cause and he has a blog now.  I, of course,  told him the car scares me to pieces.  He replied that I sounded like a mom.... umm.... yeah.. good reason for that!

I'm excited for Adam and Dave and their adventure.  I look forward to reading up on how it all goes... and IF they even make it all the way!  Maybe you can enjoy it too or contribute to the cause as well.

Here's the plug!

On Wednesday, my friend Adam and I are leaving New York city in a 1964
Dodge Dart we obtained for free on Craigslist this winter and striking
out for New Orleans. We're doing it along with around 50 other teams
as part of the BABE (Big Apple to Big Easy) rally, a "banger rally"
where you're allowed to spend a maximum of $250 to buy your rally car.
Yes, we've packed lots of tools.  It's not a speed event, and no one
finishes first.  We've set up a website about our efforst at
http://www.rallydart.com.

I'm sending out this email because we're doing the rally to raise
funds and/or awareness for a fantastic non-profit I've been helping
out called Bonnie CLAC.  Its mission is to help lower-income people in
rural areas become financially literate, then provide them with a loan
for a new car at a very low interest rate.  The effect on their
clients -- over 2/3 women -- is transformative and empowering, helping
them out of a downward spiral of bad credit and financial dependence.

The organization has been written up in the Wall Street Journal, Time
magazine, and have received major grants from the Annie E. Casey
foundation and Jane's Trust.  They're in a major push to make it a
self-sustaining enterprise, and they can use your help.  Learn more
about them at http://www.bonnieclac.org

So we'd appreciate any contributions you can make. We've set up an
online donation page at the link below; anything you contribute there
will go straight to Bonnie CLAC.
http://www.firstgiving.com/rallydart1

We're going to be updating our blog during the rally -- check it out
at http://www.rallydart.com

Thanks,
Dave

PS: Special thanks to Vintage Sports & Racing (http://www.vsr1.com) in
Bow, NH for helping us make sure the wheels won't fall off on the way
to New Orleans.

PPS: Please forward this to anyone else you think might be interested!

I stopped taking the darvocet yesterday.  I called the pharmacy for a refill and they said they could not refill until Wednesday.  For whatever reason, I didn't have the amount of meds to last me until Wednesday.  I considered calling my doctor to discuss the pain, I considered taking tylenol intermittently with the motrin. 

For lots of reasons, I did not want to push a refill on the medication.  I come from a long line of folks who have had their issues with pain meds, among other intoxicating substances.  So if ever given the choice or reason to not take a medication, I will do what I can not to.  Not that I want to be a hero at all with regards to the pain.... not that I like pain at all... I simply decided to take the meds PRN.  In other words, when they are needed as opposed to on a schedule.

It's been ok.  My mental fog has lifted, that's for sure.  Yes, there is discomfort, but it's not too bad.  Seems I've turned a major corner.  For the most part it's pain I can manage, and when I can't I just take something. 

Hubby is going to be going back to work next Tuesday.  I need to be as back to "normal" as possible.  Meaning, I need to be able to do about 70% of what I used to do.  Still no lifting, no toting, but I need to make it through a full day on my own.  Kinda scares me at the moment, but We'll see how I do.  I've got a few more days to heal before I get there.  A lot of healing can happen in that amount of time. *fingers crossed*

I cleaned the kitchen last night and was thinking "wahoo! Look at me!"  and tonight I cleaned up the downstairs and did it nice and quick.  that felt good too.

My dad called this morning to let me know Grandma Doe died last night.  Mom (step-mom) was there with her sister, who had come down from Seattle just in time. 

Grandma Doe was a musician, an artist, and a serious survivor.  We knew she was in bad shape for a long long time.  We knew she wasn't going to last long, but to hear she had passed away was a shock.  She's had many many close calls and pulled back from the brink so many times.  I honestly thought we would have time for another visit.

When I spoke to my dad a couple days ago he said, "Well, Doe has decided she is going to die."  I was surprised.  I was told to stay home and get better, the drive would take too much out of me.  He said that at his last visit he told her, "You gotta stick around Doe, your daughter is driving down from WA to see you."  to wit she simply rolled her eyes.  She said she was frustrated.  She had made her decision, why wasn't her body just letting her go?  Well, it took just a couple days, I guess.

I could go on and on about this wonderful woman.  She will be missed, but is in a much better place without pain.

We all know I cannot deal with a messy house.  I can let aspects of it slide for a few days, but I *really* have a hard time sitting back as my home becomes a textbook case of entropy.  I knew this would be one of the hardest things about my post-partum time.  I have my "let it go" mantra and all that.  But... we all have our limits.

Hubby is being so amazing through this.  He's supportive and understanding of how hard it is for me to have any kind of physical limitations, or pain.  I joke that I won't do certain things because he would kick my butt.  He' cooking, he's kid wrangling, cleaning, and doing laundry.  He's managing ME, which ain't easy!  He's also got some other big stuff going on I don't feel comfortable sharing in public yet.  The man is full up.  He is amazing to me every day.  So this morning when I called to him downstairs as I was nursing in bed and his response was a terse "Just a minute, I .... I .... can't hear you over Honey Girl here.....!"  I knew something had to be done.  I actually knew that last night when I noticed his smile fade as exhaustion was starting to set in.

I picked up the phone and called my mom.  Praying she would be home.  She was. 
"So, you need some help?" 
"OH. Dear. God, yes I do!  Please???  I need you to help me put my house back together." 
"I can get there around noon."

Hubby wrangled Honey Girl out for her time at My Gym.  Big Boy stayed downstairs and was on the computer.  Little Lady crashed out for her longer morning snooze.  I got up and got safely busy.  I cleaned two bathrooms (slowly and carefully and such), tidied the second floor (my domain) and set the roomba loose, sorted the laundry, took a shower.  There was a lot of it.  Big Boy came upstairs and was my helper and kept saying, "Momma?  I love you."  We shared lots of hugs and quiet conversation.  He also took time to ask me how long before I could run again? How long before I could jump up and down?  How long before I could play?  It was nice to have this time with him while Little Lady snoozed away.  Big Boy looked worried when I told him Grandma Margi as coming.  Then I remembered, and reassured him I wasn't going anywhere, that she was coming to help out.

My mom arrived at noon as promised.  She looked around the first floor and nodded as I said, "I just need you to make it look like I live here again."  Within one hour that chick tore through here like I do when not hugely pregnant or recovering.  She would disappear for ten minutes and pass by saying "Kids rooms done, tidied, beds made" or I'd here her talking to Big Boy, "Mommy shoes go here, Honey Girl shoes go there, ..."  I ventured downstairs and the place was transformed.  The second load of laundry was in.  The load that had lived in the dryer for two days was folded and put away.  I mentioned I would love it if she could clean up the kids' bathroom since I couldn't really get up there and she smiled and said, "Done already."

Watching my mom power through here with such vigor made me realize: Y'know, it's not so bad turning into your mother a little bit.  *big smile*  it was like watching myself.  Yes, I get it.... I learned from her... yes yes yes I did.  The woman's house is never dirty.  I have not so good memories of her saying things that I now say like "I can't cook in this kitchen until it is clean"  or "How can you think in  a room so messy?" and I laughed to myself as she lead me through the oh so familiar verbal discourse of what to do with the bag o' stuff at the base of the stairs, "What do you want to do with this?  and this?  how about this?.. so these go upstairs, these go downstairs,... ok!"

My mom saved my ass today.  I should say she saved our asses today.  On top of the cleaning, she played with the kids and took them out for a walk when they got too wacky for the house. 

By late afternoon, Hubby had his smile back!  I went downstairs to get something and he was quietly on his computer having time to himself as Honey Girl was snoozing on the couch.  Big Boy was upstairs with grandma.  He needed just a minute or two to himself and got it.  His shoulders returned to where they were supposed to be, instead of in his ears.  I got my house back.  The kids got to play and be silly.

Thanks, mom.  You really pulled us back together today, and quickly too.  Now, we'll just need to work on the not feeding the dog from the table,... or not encouraging the kids to feed the dog from the table... and we'll be golden.

Hubby did take me out for a walk on Thursday Morning.  It was absolutely wonderful.  I was in fresh air.  I could listen to the birds, trains, cars, dogs barking.  It was sunny and mild.  We held hands and walked nice and slow.  Little Lady was snoozing in the sling and Buck was walking patiently at Hubby's side.  It took quie some time to circle the complex and adjoining park.  I slept most of the afternoon.

Today was a great big boo-yaw day out for me though.  It was good.  Then not so good.  Then pretty bad.  Now I'm doing "ok". 

We all packed into the Odyssey this morning.  Quite the site.  Our new family.  Filling up the minivan.  One car seat facing forward, one car seat facing back.  One booster seat int he way back next to "Buck's Place"  The minivan is FULL!  mu-ah ah ah.  It feels quite cool, to be honest.

Little Lady starts to cry, but being a newborn, kindly falls asleep within a block.  Honey Girl is looking sad and starts to eat playdough she finds.  Big Boy is ready for school.

Big Boy gets dropped off first.  Then Buck gets dropped at doggy daycare.  Oh!  As an aside, he apparently has a little buddy who he naps with everyday now.  So cute!  A little French Bulldog.  I want photos! 

I called Grandma Toni while we were in transit.  I don't like calling her when I'm not doing well, and she figured as much.  We had a good talk about pain management.  Keeping on a schedule of taking the meds so you don't have to catch up with the pain later.  I've been doing this and have been recovering quite well.  But I don't like the dopey feeling and wonder how much longer I'll need the meds.  I already put in the refill on the darvocet.  How long will this pain from the c and ligation last?  Just curious, it's only been a week, I know.... just curious.

We went to Starbucks before taking Little Lady to her one week appointment.  Yes, all the baristas gave a very warm welcome and were excited to see the baby.  Hubby, Honey Girl, Little Lady and I sat outside and ate our breakfast.  I'm loving these outside moments. 

Little Lady's appointment went well.  I misunderstood the nurse at first and thought that she had lost more weight beyond the "leaving hospital weight" which is usually 10% less than birth weight.  Seeing as she is my most petite creation, I was biting my lip deep in thought, but nope.  She's gained back two ounces already.  It's a relief, but had me wondering:  What are my pain meds doing to this little new person who needs to grow?

Well, my ped explained that they are necessary to helping my healing, as pain is very detrimental on many levels... however... they do make my little bity Little Lady sleepier, thus making it more work to wake up to feed, thus making it harder to get her poppin back above her birth weight in a quick way.  It is nearly impossible to wake up a newborn.  Don't believe those stories about tip toeing around the baby.  At least not at first.  The Ped who attended the birth was in the hallway and she explained I've probably got another week to go before I start weaning off of them, due to the added procedure.

While at the doctor's office, Honey Girl became the big sis.  She was running clipboards to nurses, watching the weighing and measuring, introducing everyone to her baby sister.  It was wonderful to see her transitioning out of the baby sis role.

We went to grocery store after the doctor's appointment.  I went to the bathroom, came out, and let Hubby know I would need to wait in the car.  I felt like I could muscle through the grocery trip, but why?  I would be more trouble to him as someone to worry over, and he now knows when I'm trying to hide pain.... that's a thing that happens the longer you're married to someone... they read you too well and call you on stuff!  I got to the car with a halting gait.  I was an hour late on my meds and they were at home.  Burning, stabbing, stiffness.  I sighed and cuddled Little Lady in the sling and closed my eyes in the passenger seat (I'm not allowed to drive while on the meds) and woke up about 20-25 minutes later.  Huh.  Never done that before.  My body was taking care of me no doubt.  When we got home, I took the meds and stayed in my room the rest of the evening.  Didn't go upstairs to put the kids down, didn't come downstairs for dinner.

I'm going to continue to take it real easy so I don't need to take the double doses of darvocet, thus keeping Little Lady on the up and up of weight gain.  But if I need to do a bit of a bollus for appointments, I will.  The incision is doing great, better than in my other two procedures.  This is just taking a lot longer to feel as better, plain and simple.

My leash is being somewhat loosened tomorrow.  The effects of being exceedingly sedentary  are starting to show, and I gotta say: not liking it.

The pain is lessening.  I'm beginning to walk with more ease.  I'm beginning to feel like myself again.  I'm still a long way from "myself", but my body is now telling me it's ok to move some more.  I can't begin to see my shape yet in this post baby birth body, but I know it will come in time.  I also know I will be too busy to stare at the mirror and be self critical about how long it takes the lower abdominals to flatten.  My mind is screaming to see something outside.

Hubby is going to take a walk with me tomorrow!  Maybe even around the block!  I'm excited.  There are a lot of quid pro quos.  No hills, no stairs, and putter walking is just fine, no long distance.  No walking the dog.  NO carrying anything heavier than the baby (baby will be hitching with me in the sling though, and that will be fun/nostalgic).  If I feel any strain along my incision, we will stop and carefully head home.  My doctor will be so proud to NOT see me in her office with an oozing incision this time around.  OH, and IF this goes well, then Friday maybe we can go to starbucks and whole foods before taking Little Lady to her 1 week appointment!  1 week!  WOW! 

I feel pasty pail from lack of sun and sweat.

The day I got home from the hospital with Honey Girl, we took a family walk that lasted about forty minutes.  While in the hospital with her, I did my rounds... laps around the unit three times a day, four laps or so.  I even took one trip to the parking lot to see our new Odyssey, and played cars with Big Boy.  While that sounds really impressive, and was.... that behavior did result in excessive "issues" with the incision, including infecting/ irritating it and a round of killer anti-biotics that knocked me flat.  I felt so great with the pain meds, I figured it was ok to just go until my body told me not to.... pure idiocy.

This time around, my body is screaming at me to not rush it.  I didn't rush removal of the catheter.  I didn't rush walking.  Standing up was fine, but on the second try, did result in me hurling in the sink and needing to sit down again.  There were many moments of coming to a standing position and having to just wait for the muscles to allow the stand to happen before taking slow deliberate tiny steps.  My entire stay at the hospital I walked the unit only two or three times, and those times I don't even know if I did more than on lap.  It's fun passing the nurses' stations on either end and getting cheered on.  I still progress at a putter.

The added procedure to the cesarean is truly a whopper I was not prepared for in terms of recovery.  In my head, I was thinking that once spliced open, anything they did in there would be pretty much the same.  It wasn't until day 2 that I was reminded that there were two other internal incisions made and then the cauterizing  etc to recover from.  It's been pretty rough.

I am getting lots of positive feedback on how well I'm doing at doing nothing now.  har har har.  What does it take for Jess to do nothing?  Oh, a major abdominal surgery that is never given enough hospital stay layered with a new baby and all the body/hormonal adjustment entailed in that.  Yeah, I think laying low is ok for a bit after that.  But tonight I started to get Barney Rubble feet and another sign of things in my body not moving, if ya catch my drift.  This is simply cause by the drugs and lack of activity.

Okay, enough already.  One whole week of not doing much is numbing my brain.  I found myself watching "Australia's Top Model" today while nursing.  Thankfully I didn't start watching soaps.  I still don't have the brain for reading.  I tried at the hospital and fell asleep after two paragraphs. I feel ready and cautiously capable of moving a bit.  With company.  Without carrying anything heavier than baby.

Wish me luck!

Tonya was the first person to see in recovery after my cesarean.  That woman is such a blessing.  She is going through sooooooo much right now and she dropped EVERYTHING to be there for the birth of our Little Lady.  I also had a sense she needed to be there;  to see the "good stuff". 

I was lying there, over half paralyzed (chest cavity down) and staring at the wall mulling over what all just happened.  And she was there with a big smile. "Hiiiiiii!  You did great!"

Then I had to say it as tears rolled down the side of my face and into my ears.  "I wish my Grandpa were here for this."  And we looked at each other, nodded the understanding nod of loss and I just sniffed quietly for a bit as she held my hand.  "He would be so proud.  Or he is so proud and he is around us, but .... y'know... I miss him right now."  She nodded, smiled, gently touched my head.

Tonya just lost her father.  She was there for me when I lost my grandfather.  It's understood.

Tonya was the only member of "family" I called who knew where their copy of my house keys were.  She brought a wonderful activity for the kids to do after I hugged them and explained I would be at the hospital for 4 night nights, but they could visit me soon.  This was not "news" to the kids, but it's never easy saying goodbye.  It was hard to not get misty.  I mean, I'm not exactly back yet, right? ;-)  She and the kids made "birthday candles" for the new baby sister with beeswax rolls.  How killer is that?  Tonya was also the fastest lightning speed finder of something I could hurl into when I got "the look" on my face post op after eating a cup of jello.  I didn't end up hurling, but kudos, chick!  She spun by my house to bring me my new breast pump when the pornstar boobs hit and I didn't/couldn't get the hospital's pump any moment I wanted.  I had no idea how much I needed her while in the hospital, I had no idea how much she had to offer.  I am so grateful.  So very grateful.  Especially when I had to be brief on the phone while managing a visit from my sis and mom at the same time.  I can lovingly joke I would have been less stressed dropping Little Lady off at a center at Honey Girls school and letting the kids carefully look and gently touch.  But hey, when it's family... we're at least able to laugh about it.  MOM!  Wash your hands!!!

My dad and step-mom have been more "here" this week than he has in a long long time.  Shirt sleeves pulled up to the elbows, getting down here so fast.  He's wrangling kids.  He's stopping by the hospital.  He's holding the baby.  He's making jokes about me meeting my match with this one.  He's talking to me a lot more too.  I noticed.  He's smiling.  HE's himself again.  See, after Grandpa passed, dad had to lick his wounds.  He lost not just a father, but a best friend.  visits were often cancelled.  We didn't see much of him.  I understood and kept inviting, kept loving, patiently waiting.  But, people.  Nothing brings a grandad back from the brink like the birth of a granddaughter.  Especially after he cried when hearing we lost one in August. 

He's driving the minivan.  He's grabbing bags from me.  On our way home he made sure I had a hand to hold while walking.  I had an entourage with him and Hubby.  His hand was on the small of my back as I gingerly made my way up the stairs to my "perch" (room). 

I felt I had to say something about this.  A good thing.  A thank you of sorts.  As Hubby was in the Longs getting my drugs etc., Dad was babysitting me and the baby in the minivan... "just to be sure [I didn't] try to go lift a couch or go for a jog".  He spent a lot of the time diggin in the way-back to get a blankie for Little Lady because she might get cold, or gently reaching forward to be sure her cap stayed on.  Or cooing and talking to her sleepy hand gestures.

"Dad?"
"Wha-what?"
"Dad, It's good to have you back."
"Back???"
"I mean, I see a big change in you now I haven't seen since your dad passed.... and.."

Well, then I started to cry... friggin' day 4 post-partum hormones decided to hit.

"I know... I know..." he said reassuringly and seemed misty too.

We didn't need to say anything else about it.  We both sniffed, put on our sunglasses and looked out the windows at nothing at all.  Gotta love that family communication. ;-)

Ok.  Little Lady is waking up.  I get to take my meds.  Maybe my next post will be a funny one!

It was at about 4:30 in the afternoon on Friday, May 11th.  I was sitting in the minivan reading the newspaper.  Honey Girl was snoozing in her carseat, Big Boy was in computer class.  I was enjoying the cool breeze and our nicely shaded parking spot when I got the feeling.

OH!  in the same vane as "aha, been here before.... better look at my cell phone and remember the time."  It was an honest to goodness contraction.  A cannot-be-confused-with-BH-contractions, yay! contraction.

Sure enough the pattern began to emerge.  I texted Hubby that I was having contractions.  He asked if I was ok.  I told him I'll be in touch once I get home, go to the bathroom and have a glass of water.  Sometimes contractions will happen and stop... if the mom is under stress.  Maybe this time?

Well, I got home and got in touch and texted Hubby I was ok, I hadn't called the midwife yet.  I had "cleared out" in the bathroom, so i basically knew this was it.  My body was prepping to get out a kid.  As a brief aside... I'm really glad I have been in labor with my kids, even though I've had Cs with each of them.  When talking with my pediatrician about this she smiled in  agreement that babes born after some laboring seem more "ready to be here".  Their bodies are prepped and they've had a say as to their arrival.  anyway....

I called Tonya and let her know I was "having some activity" and she IMMEDIATELY fell into awesome friend gear.  She could come over with or without her two kids.  Within seconds of calling her, her hubby IMed me "So, having contractions?"  I thought that was funny.  Tonya gently suggested I just might want to contact the midwife.... just maybe... [because, you bozo, if your OB saw contractions yesterday, the baby dropped a week ago, and you've been nesting like mad, why wouldn't you call her????]

I called the midwife.  She said "sounds like tonight's your night to have a baby.  Call me when you are on your way to the hospital."  I sputtered out something about "Oh, it will be about another *deep breath followed by a sighing controlled exhale of a contraction* hour or so as I get the kids covered and Hubby gets home." 

I call Hubby to inform him we're having a baby tonight.  He drops everything and hits the rush hour traffic home.  It was about 5:30 or 6.  Funny to think I was originally planning on going about my evening with the kids, fielding contractions until hubby came home and we could figure it out from there.... I was delusional.  It was only about a half hour between realizing "this.was.labor"  to a hellbent desire to have Hubby with me, GODDAMNIT!, and to be at the hospital.  Yeah, I get hard core torrets with labor no matter how mild.  It's true that labors get faster the more kids you have.  I agreed to call the doggie daycare and let them know Buck would need to spend the night. 

It was at that point my brain switched to labor land.  Big Boy and Honey Girl could tell, and immediately starting having fits about not liking what I had made for dinner (udon noodles... while making all these calls and such!), and "mommy you forgot to get me some milk!"  or "Mommmmmmmm you said you would cut up the pear!"  I was trying to get them some food and make the needed phonecalls.  My brain was slipping as the reality of impending surgery and baby was sinking in.  And as I tried to CHILL.

The memories get foggy from there.  Not because it's been a few days, but because I remember saying to Tonya, "my brain is checking out already... sorry.. just come with kids, we can figure it out from there."  Was I repeating myself?  Had I already called that person?  Was I fogetting to call that other person?  What time was it?  When would they get here so I could go there???

My mom says the voicemail I left on her phone made her laugh.  She was stuck in Sacramento completing paperwork for her mom.  I had a controlled voice through the message, with one interruption caused by a deep slow breath (clearly due to a contraction) and at the end of the message I blurting out "AND IT'S FUCKING RUSH HOUR SO I HAVE TO WAIT FOR HUBBY TO GET HERE!!"

Tonya and kids arrived.  Hubby Arrived.  I took a quick shower.  You have to go into the hosp clean if given the choice!  Tonya's Hubby arrived. Hubby and I took off.  I called the midwife to let her know we were on the way.  I called my dad *again* and he answered.  He informed me he had highjacked a bus and was headed home in it.  I laughed at the image of him tearing into the CHLG parking lot two-wheeling a huge Golden gate Transit bus. 

"She just couldn't wait?  What is the deal?" my dad asked
"She's taking after he namesake, pops." I replied (baby named after my step-mom)
"Ohhhhhhhh.... so this little girl is just going to do what she wants, when she wants to, and we're just along for the ride?"
"pretty much."

We got to the hospital fine, at around 7:30ish.  I got changed,  hung out in a labor delivery room on monitors for a bit and filled out oodles of paperwork.  Mom arrived (step mom) and let us know she was going to stay for the birth.  She called the house and Tonya called Marcie over because she(Tonya)  wanted to come to the birth too.  The kids at home were doing great, had settled nicely into bed and were having stories. or whatever.

The cesarean was ok.  The spinal block felt stronger than before so I was pretty quiet, didn't feel comfortable talking.  I just focused on Hubby's face and eyes, holding his hand and breathing, fighting the urge to cry (out of anticipation and joy).  There were quiet "I love you"s and "You're doing great"s and such.  I was so trusting of my OB and midwife, they joked about it being a scientology birth because I was so quiet.  I laughed and said it was the sound of pure trust and love... and that I knew they'd let me know anything I needed to know.  They liked that.  Hubby reassured me my breathing was good (since I couldn't feel it).  I looked in the reflection of the surgical light (to see what they were doing beyond the blue sheet) once and looked back at Hubby and said "Yeah, I don't need to see that."  but later, when I "felt" they were close (could feel them starting to YANK a bit... likely getting hands in to fish out Little Lady) I looked up again and watched through tear blurred eyes as she emerged.  So beautiful.  So little!  Just precious.  Our new daughter.  Nothing can match these moments of birth.

I just coasted on the cloud of seeing her, kissing her face and meeting her, finally!  I had perma grin as they completed things and sewed me up.  Hubby left to be with Little Lady, as I told him to go, since I was in good hands.  We got word from the nursery of her size, and that she was scrappy and feisty.  I knew that!  When my OB was passing her to the baby warmer, she had grabbed hold of the OB and they had to get untangled.  That's a high apgar baby.  Born at 37 weeks, 4 days.  Early, healthy, and our littlest little gem.

Post-op was different.  I did not enjoy the anesthesia this time (as i said before).  I had all the side effects.  I was rubbing my nose and face a lot.  It didn't itch, I just felt like I had fuzz on my nose or something like that.  It felt like forever to wiggle my toes.  My face was flushed.  meh.  I did have some heaves and begged for an emesis basin in my room after eating some jello.  It was 11 or so and I hadn't eaten since 1... a half pb&j.

Now that I am home, I'm still on a cloud of gratitude and joy.  Not just from the hormones, either.  yes, the darvocet and mortin help... but... we're a house just bursting with love right now.  Just so happy she's here.

I need to go take my meds and go to bed.  other stuff later.

Quite in the opposite energy of what I wrote in my last entry.. now I really do and willingly will be doing nothing.

My little lady was born Friday May 11th at 8:40 in the evening and she was indeed a "normal sized" baby.  eight pounds, one ounce and twenty inches long.

I am over the moon happy.  I'll do my best to write up a birth story.  But right now, I need to succumb to the darvocet and sleep a bit.  This chick needs to heal.  It's been rough this time through.

My family is really pullin out the stops and I am amazed and grateful.

me to my dad:  Do you have keys?  I thought I had some made for you.. If I did and they are in the drawer of forgotten keys.. they have  a neon dog tag on them.  A mailbox key and house key.

dad:  errrrr.... no

fast forward to 10 minutes later, a serious record

dad (a little breathless):  GOT 'EM!

me: cool.  Oh, and Hubby has told me to not enter the addresses for the kids schools and activites into the navigation because he wants to program it so you can find it under "big boy" "honey girl"  "my gym" etc...

dad:  that sounds really good to me.  You take it easy now...

me:  I don't do this "sit on yer butt" stuff very well.

dad:  I know... but do it anyway.  I love you, bye.

me to my mom:  mom do you have keys?

my mom:  I don't think so, but I can just go down the street and have a set made when I get there from your spares on the corkboard.  You take it easy now.

me:  do you need anything in the house foodwise while you're here?

mom:  How long do you think I'm stayin?  I can get to the store.  You take it easy

Hubby via IM: you taking it easy?
me: yeeeessss
Hubby: good.

twiddle thumbs, no heavy lifting, no mad errand running, no hiking, no dog walking.

aha!  I'm going to sort the laundry and put some in on my way out the door.  taxi service is still in high demand.  as well as meal prep and kid wrangling.  But when I'm alone for two hours and all I have to do is sit....take it easy... it gets old after an hour.  Especially when I'm nesting anyway.

All hail good friends who weathered bedrest.