Guess who slept from 9:30 pm to 3:30 am last night? Yep, Nate. Of course, Nate's Mama wasn't smart enough to go to bed at 9:30, so she didn't get that 6 straight hours. But still, the potential is there.
He also has these incredibly long periods of wakefulness; 3 or 4 hours at least. Isn't this crazy? It's great that he's so advanced, and has such alertness, but I just don't know what to do with an inert baby for 4 hours. I sing to him, and then I'm really out of material. Should I start the algebra now?
He had his first tub bath tonight, and liked it much better than the sponge baths he's been getting up to this point. Very serene and contemplative.
So far, the infant massage has been a bit of a bust. He doesn't seem to hate it, but he doesn't seem to like it either. I guess it's a little hard to tell what he feels at 3 weeks, but I don't get a sense that he's feeling very zen and peaceful about the whole thing. It's more of a "what the heck?" kind of emotion I get from him, and I can't say that I blame him. I'm going to keep up with it, though - I think he'll really like it as he gets older. Plus, it's fun to watch him pee on me every time I get him naked.
The cloth diapering is going very well. We're still experimenting with different covers to find the best fit, but I'm pleased with things. Every time I put a dirty one into the laundry bag, I feel good about not dumping another diaper into the trash. There's something very homey, too, about a stack of freshly washed diapers just waiting to be used. It's been a couple of days without any disposables getting used now. I still love the disposables for trips out of the house, and will definitly continue to use them - the cloth diapers are just too bulky to carry around extras for a trip to Mom's, or a weekend away.
There's a lot of talk on cloth-diapering websites about getting stains out of the diapers. I've only been a Mom for 3 weeks now, but I'm clearly missing something. They're diapers. Who cares if they're stained? Are we trying to fool someone into thinking they haven't been pooped on countless times? Will he be giving a speech, in his diapers, that I'm not aware of?
My health is back to normal. The infections in the c-section are gone, and I only have one day of antibiotics left. I've gone for nice long walks the last four days, and feel like I have my old endurance back. Of course, my old endurance was pretty lame, but at least I haven't lost ground!
Well, alert-baby needs attention. Maybe Geometry tonight!
Friday, September 30, 2005
Monday, September 26, 2005
Seriously.
I know that other Moms probably think their baby is the best baby ever. But they're seriously wrong. And when I think mine is the best baby ever? I'm totally right.
And when the other Moms think "I'm sure that it's cliche to think that my baby is the best, but they really are!" they're wrong about that too. But when I think that? I'm totally right.
Nate slept from midnight to 4:30, had a feed and back down to sleep. Another little feed at 5:15, and slept through until 8:30.
See? Told you so.
And when the other Moms think "I'm sure that it's cliche to think that my baby is the best, but they really are!" they're wrong about that too. But when I think that? I'm totally right.
Nate slept from midnight to 4:30, had a feed and back down to sleep. Another little feed at 5:15, and slept through until 8:30.
See? Told you so.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Our birth story
Nate made his big entrance on September 7, 2005 at 8:17 a.m. Here's our story.
We checked into the hospital, as scheduled, at 5:45 a.m. on September 7th to start the check-in process. Stewart spent the morning very patiently handling my anxiety, and making good jokes, and charming me and the nurses as expected. I spent the morning going slowly from completely calm to total basket case, as expected. Many questions, tests, pokes, and prods later, we were ready to go.
They wheeled me into a very ancient-looking operating room. The anestiologist explained that I'd be getting a spinal injection, instead of an epidural, since I wasn't going through labor. The process of numbing the site was tough, but the big needle stick was pretty painless. The nurses were really busy taking care of things around the room, and didn't really notice my heightening anxiety. The anestesologist took pity on me and gave me a little something in the IV, and within seconds I felt like myself again.
They brought Stewart in, and he was perfect. He held my hand, and stayed with me physically and emotionally the whole time. As freaked out as I got, he stayed steady and supportive; he made a fairly terrible experience bearable.
Since I hadn't gone into any sort of labor, Nate was still very high up. When the incision was made, a nurse had to stand next to me and push hard, for at least a minute, on my chest to try to move him down. They pulled him out, and I could feel him going, but I didn't hear him crying. He ended up having a low initial Apgar of 5, but they eventually got him going. As Dr. Levitt pulled him out, he said "I think this was one of the best decisions of my career." The nurses all started talking about how big he was, but we didn't know his weight just yet.
Stewart happened to look up just as they were about to cut the cord off of him, and said "Weren't we going to do the Viacord (cord blood donation)?" The entire room got silent. Stewart and a nurse went running out of the room to get the kit, and I was sure that they were going to refuse to do it since the kit wasn't sterile, or some problem like that. But they ran back in, and it looks like that was done successfully. I truly can't believe it worked out; I didn't even remember about it in all of the chaos. Stewart looked up at just the right moment, remembered about it, intruded on the scene, and totally saved the day.
At some point, they weighed him and announced it to the room: 10 pounds, 6 1/2 ounces. Sometime around then, the pediatrician brought him around the side of the screen, holding him upright, and I saw his beautiful face for the first time.
It took them a while to close up the incision, and my anxiety started back again. The anestesologist told me that she was going to send me to sleep and I forcibly protested. She did it anyway, and it was the best decision of the day.
I woke up in the post-op room, and they were bathing Nathaniel nearby. The nurse held him up for me to see. I felt so good, having the surgery over with, that I was okay to wait for her to be done to hold him. They eventually brought him to us, and Stewart went out and told everyone we were okay, and his weight, and his NAME! According to reports, there was much gasping and rejoicing.
That's the story of Nathaniel Henry's entrance into this world. I'll write about the two weeks since as soon as I catch some sleep.
We checked into the hospital, as scheduled, at 5:45 a.m. on September 7th to start the check-in process. Stewart spent the morning very patiently handling my anxiety, and making good jokes, and charming me and the nurses as expected. I spent the morning going slowly from completely calm to total basket case, as expected. Many questions, tests, pokes, and prods later, we were ready to go.
They wheeled me into a very ancient-looking operating room. The anestiologist explained that I'd be getting a spinal injection, instead of an epidural, since I wasn't going through labor. The process of numbing the site was tough, but the big needle stick was pretty painless. The nurses were really busy taking care of things around the room, and didn't really notice my heightening anxiety. The anestesologist took pity on me and gave me a little something in the IV, and within seconds I felt like myself again.
They brought Stewart in, and he was perfect. He held my hand, and stayed with me physically and emotionally the whole time. As freaked out as I got, he stayed steady and supportive; he made a fairly terrible experience bearable.
Since I hadn't gone into any sort of labor, Nate was still very high up. When the incision was made, a nurse had to stand next to me and push hard, for at least a minute, on my chest to try to move him down. They pulled him out, and I could feel him going, but I didn't hear him crying. He ended up having a low initial Apgar of 5, but they eventually got him going. As Dr. Levitt pulled him out, he said "I think this was one of the best decisions of my career." The nurses all started talking about how big he was, but we didn't know his weight just yet.
Stewart happened to look up just as they were about to cut the cord off of him, and said "Weren't we going to do the Viacord (cord blood donation)?" The entire room got silent. Stewart and a nurse went running out of the room to get the kit, and I was sure that they were going to refuse to do it since the kit wasn't sterile, or some problem like that. But they ran back in, and it looks like that was done successfully. I truly can't believe it worked out; I didn't even remember about it in all of the chaos. Stewart looked up at just the right moment, remembered about it, intruded on the scene, and totally saved the day.
At some point, they weighed him and announced it to the room: 10 pounds, 6 1/2 ounces. Sometime around then, the pediatrician brought him around the side of the screen, holding him upright, and I saw his beautiful face for the first time.
It took them a while to close up the incision, and my anxiety started back again. The anestesologist told me that she was going to send me to sleep and I forcibly protested. She did it anyway, and it was the best decision of the day.
I woke up in the post-op room, and they were bathing Nathaniel nearby. The nurse held him up for me to see. I felt so good, having the surgery over with, that I was okay to wait for her to be done to hold him. They eventually brought him to us, and Stewart went out and told everyone we were okay, and his weight, and his NAME! According to reports, there was much gasping and rejoicing.
That's the story of Nathaniel Henry's entrance into this world. I'll write about the two weeks since as soon as I catch some sleep.
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