So far so good, no baby on baby violence at our house. However, Maggie is currently wrestling a very reluctantly participating Jack Russell Terrier... a girl has to take our her frustratation somewhere.
Seriously though, Maggie loves this baby. She may not always be keen on Mom and Dad, but she LOVES this baby. I just came out of the bathroom and the two of them are on my bed watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and Maggie is "Feeding baby sister Mama!" Cate had been crying and Maggie grabbed the bottle off the nightstand and very gently gave her sister some sips. Yes, this does freak me out a little bit, but what's the worst that could happen - gas bubble? baby barf? not the end of the world, and if Maggie wants to try and make her sister feel better in the 30 seconds it takes me to pee, then I think it's worth the risk.
When I came back to the bed and scooped up the baby (who had resumed crying), Maggie said, "Hey! Give me my baby sister back!" She was just sitting next to her, not holding her or anything crazy, but she liked it... and I was intruding. It made me think about a few years from now when they will be playing or gossiping or whatever and I will banished from their fun. Is it strange that I'm looking forward to being banished? I'm just so happy that I can give my two girls to each other, that they'll always have each other - even when they are 14 and 16 and I'm an old lady that doesn't know anything about anything and totally suck.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
I Want A Goose That Lays Gold Eggs for Easter!
I think I'm going to rename Maggie, she is now Veruca Salt. If she wants to watch TV she wants to watch it NOW, if she wants to be picked up she wants to be picked up NOW, if she wants help with her markers she wants help NOW!!!!!! I want it NOW! I want it NOW! OH MY GOD!!!!! A fabulous new bad habit to break.
Monday, July 19, 2010
No Filter
The other day we took the girls to breakfast at our local sh*t-hole diner. It's one of Maggie and Daddy's favorite places to go. Maggie was pretty much done with her pancake and was doing a little people watching. A really big guy - tall, wide, etc. - came in and Maggie (thank god she still can't be understood all that well) says, "Big! Big, big, big guy Mom!" while standing on the bench next to me. Made me remember the story my mom tells about me at about the same age pointing out "Look! A cowboy!" in the grocery store when a man in a cowboy hat passed my path.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
All the Gory Details, part two
Part Two... on to delivery day...
July 13th, 2010. Today is the day we're going to have a baby! Woo Hoo! I had an induction scheduled for late in the afternoon and was going to spend the morning getting the house ready to be abandoned for two days, getting my daughter ready to be abandoned for two days, and basically just psyching myself up. Cate had other ideas.
At about 4:15am I woke up pretty sure my water had broke. That, or my bladder had broke, one or the other. I took a little time to try and figure myself out, I wasn't really having contractions so it was a little confusing, and eventually called Granny to come over and watch Maggie while Jason took me to the hospital. By the time we got to the hospital, got through triage, and got to our delivery room - about 6:30am - my contractions seemed to be about five to six minutes apart. Even though in triage they said I had NOT broke my water (which I still don't believe), I was definately in labor.
The rest of the morning was a waiting game, nothing too exciting. I had decided to wait longer this time to get the epidural than I had with Maggie. With Maggie I was so scared that it would get bad fast that as soon as I started feeling something I called for the anestheologist. This time, by the time I started asking about the epidural, and they called for the order from my OB, and they called the anestheologist, and the damn doctor got there (the women next door got to her first), the contractions felt like they were practically right on top of each other and I had my one truely bitchy moment of the day... told Jason to "Shut up" as he was trying to distract me with commentary on the HGTV show that was on the TV. Seriously though, I couldn't have cared less what that damn house was being sold for in Argentina - GET ME SOME DRUGS! That was at about 11:00am.
One funny thing that happened, that I almost forgot about...I think it was after the epidural, but it might have been before... I was sitting in the bed talking with my nurse as she took my blood pressure after having checked my progress down below, when all of a sudden this little boy, maybe about three years old, came careening into my room giggling and running in circles. For a second I thought maybe my mom had brought Maggie over, but then said, "Oops, that one's not mine!" My nurse looked horror stricken, rushed the kid out of the room, and came back in apologizing. "No big deal," I told her, "Good thing he wasn't about five minutes earlier, or he would have had a very unpleasant education about where babies come from."
So anyway, back to Cate...
From 11:00am to about 2:00pm I was totally happy and doped up. I took a little nap, tried to read a magazine, but right around 2:00 I started getting really uncomfortable. I tried to roll over on my side and discovered that this time, everyone agreed, that my water had broke for sure. The nurse checked me out and it was time to get the doctor. No induction, Cate was going to do this all by herself.
The doctor came in a little while later, all hyper and jovial, had me push once, and the baby's heart rate dropped. He wasn't so jovial any more. I pushed once more and it happened again. All of a sudden I was in that movie She's Having a Baby and Jason had turned into Kevin Bacon. I could hear the Kate Bush song playing in the background. They put an oxygen mask on me, called in about four more people and told me that they were going to use a vaccum to help get her out ASAP and I had better push as hard as I can or I was going to end up with a C-section. I was fighting back tears, praying she was OK, and trying not to look at my husband becuase I knew he was doing the same thing. It took about five more minutes and she was born, it was 2:40pm.
She was having some trouble catching her breath so the nurses took her across the room to work on her. I was trying hard not to start screaming "Give me my baby!" and keep my shit together. I don't think I've ever wanted anything so bad in my entire life than to have her in my arms, a little bit of drama can really crystallize a moment for you. I got to see her very briefly, kiss her, and she was wisked away to the nursery to be better monitored. So then I started crying, and shaking. Everyone was telling me she was going to be just fine, but I didn't want just fine - I wanted perfect. Not perfect for me, but for her. I didn't want her to be struggling, or scared, or hurting, or whatever was going on with her, I just wanted her to be perfect... is that so much to ask?
After about five hours the breathing issues resolved themselves, and by the next morning the giant dome on her head from the vaccum had dissappeared. They said they didn't really know why her heart rate dropped so much right at the end there - or maybe they did know and it just wasn't so important to tell me anymore.
We're home now, learning how to live with a newborn again, and watching her get closer and closer to perfect with each passing hour. Maggie loves her sister, and Jason and I love them both so much it will be impossible to ever tell them... until maybe they have their own little girls. Like Jason wrote to friends the other day, our life is pretty good right now. Pretty good... pretty amazing.
July 13th, 2010. Today is the day we're going to have a baby! Woo Hoo! I had an induction scheduled for late in the afternoon and was going to spend the morning getting the house ready to be abandoned for two days, getting my daughter ready to be abandoned for two days, and basically just psyching myself up. Cate had other ideas.
At about 4:15am I woke up pretty sure my water had broke. That, or my bladder had broke, one or the other. I took a little time to try and figure myself out, I wasn't really having contractions so it was a little confusing, and eventually called Granny to come over and watch Maggie while Jason took me to the hospital. By the time we got to the hospital, got through triage, and got to our delivery room - about 6:30am - my contractions seemed to be about five to six minutes apart. Even though in triage they said I had NOT broke my water (which I still don't believe), I was definately in labor.
The rest of the morning was a waiting game, nothing too exciting. I had decided to wait longer this time to get the epidural than I had with Maggie. With Maggie I was so scared that it would get bad fast that as soon as I started feeling something I called for the anestheologist. This time, by the time I started asking about the epidural, and they called for the order from my OB, and they called the anestheologist, and the damn doctor got there (the women next door got to her first), the contractions felt like they were practically right on top of each other and I had my one truely bitchy moment of the day... told Jason to "Shut up" as he was trying to distract me with commentary on the HGTV show that was on the TV. Seriously though, I couldn't have cared less what that damn house was being sold for in Argentina - GET ME SOME DRUGS! That was at about 11:00am.
One funny thing that happened, that I almost forgot about...I think it was after the epidural, but it might have been before... I was sitting in the bed talking with my nurse as she took my blood pressure after having checked my progress down below, when all of a sudden this little boy, maybe about three years old, came careening into my room giggling and running in circles. For a second I thought maybe my mom had brought Maggie over, but then said, "Oops, that one's not mine!" My nurse looked horror stricken, rushed the kid out of the room, and came back in apologizing. "No big deal," I told her, "Good thing he wasn't about five minutes earlier, or he would have had a very unpleasant education about where babies come from."
So anyway, back to Cate...
From 11:00am to about 2:00pm I was totally happy and doped up. I took a little nap, tried to read a magazine, but right around 2:00 I started getting really uncomfortable. I tried to roll over on my side and discovered that this time, everyone agreed, that my water had broke for sure. The nurse checked me out and it was time to get the doctor. No induction, Cate was going to do this all by herself.
The doctor came in a little while later, all hyper and jovial, had me push once, and the baby's heart rate dropped. He wasn't so jovial any more. I pushed once more and it happened again. All of a sudden I was in that movie She's Having a Baby and Jason had turned into Kevin Bacon. I could hear the Kate Bush song playing in the background. They put an oxygen mask on me, called in about four more people and told me that they were going to use a vaccum to help get her out ASAP and I had better push as hard as I can or I was going to end up with a C-section. I was fighting back tears, praying she was OK, and trying not to look at my husband becuase I knew he was doing the same thing. It took about five more minutes and she was born, it was 2:40pm.
She was having some trouble catching her breath so the nurses took her across the room to work on her. I was trying hard not to start screaming "Give me my baby!" and keep my shit together. I don't think I've ever wanted anything so bad in my entire life than to have her in my arms, a little bit of drama can really crystallize a moment for you. I got to see her very briefly, kiss her, and she was wisked away to the nursery to be better monitored. So then I started crying, and shaking. Everyone was telling me she was going to be just fine, but I didn't want just fine - I wanted perfect. Not perfect for me, but for her. I didn't want her to be struggling, or scared, or hurting, or whatever was going on with her, I just wanted her to be perfect... is that so much to ask?
After about five hours the breathing issues resolved themselves, and by the next morning the giant dome on her head from the vaccum had dissappeared. They said they didn't really know why her heart rate dropped so much right at the end there - or maybe they did know and it just wasn't so important to tell me anymore.
We're home now, learning how to live with a newborn again, and watching her get closer and closer to perfect with each passing hour. Maggie loves her sister, and Jason and I love them both so much it will be impossible to ever tell them... until maybe they have their own little girls. Like Jason wrote to friends the other day, our life is pretty good right now. Pretty good... pretty amazing.
All The Gory Details - part one
I can't sleep. It's 5am and my last night in the hospital, my last night to easily pawn off my kids on someone else and get some sleep, and I can not sleep. Maybe writing my delivery story will put me to sleep - it will probably put all of you to sleep! Ha!
I'm going to start at the very beginning, nine months ago, because there are some things that happened early on that I think may help people who may go through similar situations... and things that Cate should know about her life (because that's who I'm really writing this for, I mean really - did you think it was for you? Get real!). I haven't wanted to talk too much about this stuff until I knew for sure that we were getting a healthy baby out of this deal, which we have, so here goes....
We started trying to conceive in August of last year, and just like with Maggie we were successful our very first month. We're frighteningly fertile I guess. Our excitement was short-lived however because right around the same time we figured out I was pregnant, we also figured out that I was having a miscarriage. It wasn't painful, it was very early, but it was heart breaking. We were realistic about it, understood that it happens to lots of people, and because it was so early in the pregnancy it was chemical - nothing we could have done, but when you want that baby it still feels like a loss. We didn't want to wait to try again, so as soon as we could we did - and now we have Cate. But we weren't out of the woods just yet.
At my first doctors appointment confirming the pregnancy I learned that my progesterone levels were very, very low and if I didn't take something to supplement them for the next six weeks I would likely loose this pregnancy as well. So yay me, I get to use progesterone suppositories and Jason gets benched for six weeks (if you know what I'm saying). Apparently those suppositories can make your partners thingy grow eyeballs or something. But six weeks was a drop in the hat, nine long months of wait-and-see had begun.
After that pleasant beginning we had a series of minor heart attacks along the way. It seemed that I could not get any kind of lab test without there being some question raised, some "uh oh...it's probably nothing". The next big one came when I had my triple screen - a blood test used to help determine the baby's risk of being born with certain birth defects. The test that looks for possible Downs Syndrome came back positive. And we were positively scared shitless.
So here's how it works, if you get a positive on this blood test, it doesn't mean your baby has DS, it just means there is a possibility she has DS. This result is compared to the age of the pregnancy, and the age of the mother. The older the mom is the higher the risk. So you can do a couple different things to find out more. You can skip ahead and go right to an amniocentesis - which carries it's own risks - or you can have a level two ultrasound to take some measurements and check out the baby's heart, looking for other indicators. This is what we did. Once you have the results of the ultrasound, the doctors break out the calculator and give you a number, or a percentage, illustrating the likelihood that your baby may actually have DS. So if you're less likely to have DS than you are to have a miscarriage due to complications from an amnio, you might want to skip the amnio and pray that everything really will be normal, which is what we did. At the end of this process we knew that we had a less than one percent chance that baby had DS, and although we now had to wait through more than half of our pregnancy to find out definitively, we decided we could live with those odds. Cate does not have Downs Syndrome, by the way.
I want to stop here for a second and tell you all that I am 32 years old. I don't smoke and I don't do drugs. Do you know what the biggest contributing factor to all our "uh-oh" moments throughout this pregnancy has been? My age. At 32, my eggs are already growing long, white ear hair and telling stories about the "good old days". I think it's great that women of my generation can pretty much do it all, whatever "it" is, and we can fit work, play and family into a long and happy life. But I think there is one huge misconception being propagated out there - the misconception that YES, you can do it all, and YES it will be easy. The reality is, of course you can have kids well into your thirties and forties, but NO it is not going to be easy. I believe that because of the personal and emotional nature of the conversation, women that are experiencing difficulties have a hard time showing that to friends and family -- compound that with the fact that for many women in their twenties a baby is so not on the radar yet that it's easy to hit the snooze button on that annoying biological clock -- now you have a generation of women like me, women that feel like someone should have warned us at 22, just a heads up, "Hey, you can do whatever you want, but your chances of having a healthy pregnancy after age 35 are like one in a gazillion." And then someone should slap that 22 year old really hard to help the info sink in. Even at 32, I saw issues arise during this pregnancy that at age 29 would not have been there, and I know many women sitting on the other side of 35 heartbroken that their dream of becoming a mother now involves complications or fertility specialists.
End of part one - off to take a shower and kiss my kid a hundred times...
I'm going to start at the very beginning, nine months ago, because there are some things that happened early on that I think may help people who may go through similar situations... and things that Cate should know about her life (because that's who I'm really writing this for, I mean really - did you think it was for you? Get real!). I haven't wanted to talk too much about this stuff until I knew for sure that we were getting a healthy baby out of this deal, which we have, so here goes....
We started trying to conceive in August of last year, and just like with Maggie we were successful our very first month. We're frighteningly fertile I guess. Our excitement was short-lived however because right around the same time we figured out I was pregnant, we also figured out that I was having a miscarriage. It wasn't painful, it was very early, but it was heart breaking. We were realistic about it, understood that it happens to lots of people, and because it was so early in the pregnancy it was chemical - nothing we could have done, but when you want that baby it still feels like a loss. We didn't want to wait to try again, so as soon as we could we did - and now we have Cate. But we weren't out of the woods just yet.
At my first doctors appointment confirming the pregnancy I learned that my progesterone levels were very, very low and if I didn't take something to supplement them for the next six weeks I would likely loose this pregnancy as well. So yay me, I get to use progesterone suppositories and Jason gets benched for six weeks (if you know what I'm saying). Apparently those suppositories can make your partners thingy grow eyeballs or something. But six weeks was a drop in the hat, nine long months of wait-and-see had begun.
After that pleasant beginning we had a series of minor heart attacks along the way. It seemed that I could not get any kind of lab test without there being some question raised, some "uh oh...it's probably nothing". The next big one came when I had my triple screen - a blood test used to help determine the baby's risk of being born with certain birth defects. The test that looks for possible Downs Syndrome came back positive. And we were positively scared shitless.
So here's how it works, if you get a positive on this blood test, it doesn't mean your baby has DS, it just means there is a possibility she has DS. This result is compared to the age of the pregnancy, and the age of the mother. The older the mom is the higher the risk. So you can do a couple different things to find out more. You can skip ahead and go right to an amniocentesis - which carries it's own risks - or you can have a level two ultrasound to take some measurements and check out the baby's heart, looking for other indicators. This is what we did. Once you have the results of the ultrasound, the doctors break out the calculator and give you a number, or a percentage, illustrating the likelihood that your baby may actually have DS. So if you're less likely to have DS than you are to have a miscarriage due to complications from an amnio, you might want to skip the amnio and pray that everything really will be normal, which is what we did. At the end of this process we knew that we had a less than one percent chance that baby had DS, and although we now had to wait through more than half of our pregnancy to find out definitively, we decided we could live with those odds. Cate does not have Downs Syndrome, by the way.
I want to stop here for a second and tell you all that I am 32 years old. I don't smoke and I don't do drugs. Do you know what the biggest contributing factor to all our "uh-oh" moments throughout this pregnancy has been? My age. At 32, my eggs are already growing long, white ear hair and telling stories about the "good old days". I think it's great that women of my generation can pretty much do it all, whatever "it" is, and we can fit work, play and family into a long and happy life. But I think there is one huge misconception being propagated out there - the misconception that YES, you can do it all, and YES it will be easy. The reality is, of course you can have kids well into your thirties and forties, but NO it is not going to be easy. I believe that because of the personal and emotional nature of the conversation, women that are experiencing difficulties have a hard time showing that to friends and family -- compound that with the fact that for many women in their twenties a baby is so not on the radar yet that it's easy to hit the snooze button on that annoying biological clock -- now you have a generation of women like me, women that feel like someone should have warned us at 22, just a heads up, "Hey, you can do whatever you want, but your chances of having a healthy pregnancy after age 35 are like one in a gazillion." And then someone should slap that 22 year old really hard to help the info sink in. Even at 32, I saw issues arise during this pregnancy that at age 29 would not have been there, and I know many women sitting on the other side of 35 heartbroken that their dream of becoming a mother now involves complications or fertility specialists.
End of part one - off to take a shower and kiss my kid a hundred times...
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Baby Sister Is Here!!
Pictures, pictures, pictures - everyone wants pictures! Well here she is- Catherine "Cate", our newest addition! I'll have the full story for you in the next couple of days, but for now... check out my awesome baby....
(a few more pictures can be seen at this link)
(a few more pictures can be seen at this link)
Friday, July 9, 2010
Jewelry
Almost every time I tell Maggie I have to go to the bathroom she rushes ahead of me and yelling, "I go too!" or "I go first!", and here I am, nine months pregnant, ready to rip my hair out I have to pee so bad while I wait for my two year old to take off her panties by herself, sit on the toilet by herself, sing and congratulate herself, pick out her toilet paper by herself, etc. etc., you get the idea. So last night when she went running for the bathroom I ran too, hoping to beat her there. She won the race, but fortunately for me she only wanted to help this time. She took her foam seat off the toilet for me, "Here you go mom!" I said, "Thanks baby," and with no hope of actually having privacy sat down. Then watched as my darling girl took her foam seat, put it around her neck, and said, "Like a necklace!" and did a little dance. Gross. Super gross. Used potty seat on my child's head. Can you Lysol a kid? Probably not, right?
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Bike Parade
Happy Fourth of July everyone! Yesterday we started our holiday weekend by participating in the first ever neighborhood bike parade, planned and organized by yours truly, with help from the neighborhood association President. We emailed our community members asking them to help us celebrate our nation's independence by decorating their bikes, strollers, scooters, etc., and riding around our neighborhood. We were accompanied by the Chief of Police and a member of the police departments bike patrol. Jason and I were worried that it was going to be just him, Maggie, and I on this little parade, but we actually ended up with about forty people! At the end of the parade we all had juice and cookies at our neighborhood park. I'm so glad I took the initiative and did this - Maggie had a blast and the association President is already looking forward to next year. Here are a few pictures from the event. You can see even more pics here.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Lobster Stalker
Keep a close eye on your shellfish everyone. There's a lobster stalker on the loose. It all started a few weeks ago when Maggie and I were shopping at Wal-Mart. She was whining about bananas or something so I distracted her with the live lobster tank (poor lobsters - not even good enough for the Whole Foods lobster tank, they are stuck in Wal-Mart). She was entranced. We had to circle the tank twice and say "bye-bye" to all the lobsters AND promise to come see them again soon. Then earlier this week we were at Sam's Club purusing the meat area and Maggie found a freezer case full of frozen lobster tail. The lobsters were sleeping. And we had to go and visit them about four times... freakin' frozen lobster tails, not even full lobsters. THEN today! We were at the pool and there was a guy dressed up in a giant lobster costume. That guy must have thought we were nuts. We spent about three hours at the pool and a solid hour of that time was spent in front of the giant lobster, or en route to the giant lobster, or spying on the lobster from about twenty feet away. Oh, and now that I'm thinking about it - when we were on vacation last winter in the Carribean Maggie gobbled up Jason's Lobster Bisque at lunch one day (because what one and a half year-old doesn't love Lobster Bisque), and for her first Halloween at about seven months-old her costume was a lobster. Spooky.
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