First off, I have to admit, blogging with a baby is difficult. Especially a baby who is very attached to her mom and wants to be held or cuddled all the time. No one item -her swing, the bouncy chair, the crib- does the trick every try, but usually she'll entertain herself for upwards of twenty minutes while I shower, eat or do laundry...but non-essential personal tasks like blogging, reading or knitting fall waaaaay to the back of the priority list when Teagan's self-soothing.
The first five weeks of motherhood has been a beautiful experience. When Teagan was a few days old, I was using both hands while nursing her and needed Babydaddy to help hydrate and nourish me during our marathon feeding sessions. While he was bringing a bottle of water to my lips for a drink, I fell asleep. The cold water hit my chest, jerking me awake and bringing me to tears. Sleep comes more easily now and Teagan nurses much more quickly now.
Breastfeeding is incredibly rewarding...especially when Teagan's weight climbed from 6 pounds to 8 pounds 4 ounces in a month. I did that! Thanks, boobies! I can't take all the credit; Teagan loves to nurse and often chomps at my boobs, making a pig-like grunt-snort. Unfortunately, although she's a faster eater, she likes to use my boobs as a soother. Recognizing her need to suck, I've tried soothers, to no avail. She gags and spits them out. Once in a while, her fingers will do the trick, but so will pillow corners, her monkey's nose, daddy's bicep...
We're going to try pumping and introducing a bottle for occasional feeds, so Babydaddy has the opportunity to bond with his little girl. This will also come in handy when we take our first family vacation to Florida in March...with all four babysitters -I mean grandparents! Babydaddy and I are hoping to go on a few dates, instead of capitalizing on nap time to spend some alone time together. Plus, I can't wait to break out Teagan's "Florida clothes" -her 3 month summer outfits handed down from fantastic friends and family.
For now, the laundry needs tending, Teagan is squirming herself awake on my chest and I'm hungry!
Friday, January 27, 2012
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
And Baby Makes Three!
Thanks to my high blood pressure, my doctor decided I should be induced early, rather than allow my levels to get out of control and wind up with an emergency situation. I was called in to be induced on Friday morning, but had to wait for several hours before being treated with a Prostin gel to soften and ripen my cervix. Babydaddy loved any reference to my cervix ripening and kept making fruit-related analogies during the labour. We were sent home with instructions to return later that night to check my progress. The nurse emphasized that Prostin rarely ever brings on labour on its own and I would likely need to be induced the following day. Babydaddy and I watched TV, napped and ate before making the trek back to St. B. My own doctor was on call, so she checked me and reported that I had made a little change and was two centimetres dilated and 50% effaced. Another round of Prostin, which for some odd reason made me vomit up EVERYTHING I had eaten earlier in the evening, and we were sent home once again.
After a decent sleep, I woke up at 7:53 in the morning with contractions. I relaxed, napped and threw up in a regular cycle and eventually Babydaddy called the hospital. We learned there were no beds and told to wait at home, as an induction wouldn't be possible until later. Induction? Isn't this labour? I was confused, but laboured on, as the contractions became more intense. My sister joked that perhaps the baby would be born in a manger if there was "no room at the in...patient wing". Finally, we decided it was hospital time. Babydaddy claims it was very challenging to get me ready to go...he blowed dried my hair, I recall, and probably dressed me. It's kind of a blur for me. My parents picked us up and I do remember listening to Bob Dylan Christmas in the car on the ride to the hospital...Si-lent Niiiiight. Ho-ly Niiiight. Oh Bob.
The next couple of hours was a mixture of pain, vomiting and yelling. When we arrived at triage, I was three centimetres dilated. I was eventually hooked up to an IV for antibiotics and saline. The nurse checked me an hour later and I was five centimetres. Feeling discouraged, I told Babydaddy I wanted to die. And I wanted an epidural, something I was against during my pregnancy. There were still no beds, so I continued to labour in triage. Eventually, I started bucking from the contractions. I felt possessed. During one contraction there was a gush of fluid. "My water broke!" I cried out. No, Dana the Nurse confirmed, you peed. She checked me and exclaimed that in half an hour I had fully dilated and was now 100% effaced and the baby's head was pushing against the membrane. I said I had to poo and went to the washroom. "Don't push!" she said through the door. "I CAN'T HELP IT!!!" I yelled back. She burst in the bathroom and got me back in the bed and then was on the phone yelling "My girl is going to go! I need a bed now!"
Suddenly, I was being wheeled down the halls, past horrified looking dads and visitors. The doctor, Dr. Ambrose, met us in the hall and introduced himself, although we had met in triage several weeks earlier. As I was getting onto the labour bed, my water broke. My feet went up in stirrups, Babydaddy was instructed to hold my heel and in one push, out popped our little monkey. It was the biggest, most satisfying release I've ever experienced. I looked at the baby on my chest and said "it's a girl?" and then "she looks like you, honey!" Babydaddy cut the cord and that was that. My next question was "did I tear?" Just a tiny one, no stitches needed. "Did I poo?" No. Ok!
And that is how Teagan Evangeline made her way into the world, quickly and relatively easily. She latched right away and nursed happily for a little while before being assessed and getting her bath. Our nurses from triage and the previous day's Prostin adventure came to say hi and meet Teagan. The story made its way around the maternity floor and might be something of legend, especially for a first time mom.
After a decent sleep, I woke up at 7:53 in the morning with contractions. I relaxed, napped and threw up in a regular cycle and eventually Babydaddy called the hospital. We learned there were no beds and told to wait at home, as an induction wouldn't be possible until later. Induction? Isn't this labour? I was confused, but laboured on, as the contractions became more intense. My sister joked that perhaps the baby would be born in a manger if there was "no room at the in...patient wing". Finally, we decided it was hospital time. Babydaddy claims it was very challenging to get me ready to go...he blowed dried my hair, I recall, and probably dressed me. It's kind of a blur for me. My parents picked us up and I do remember listening to Bob Dylan Christmas in the car on the ride to the hospital...Si-lent Niiiiight. Ho-ly Niiiight. Oh Bob.
The next couple of hours was a mixture of pain, vomiting and yelling. When we arrived at triage, I was three centimetres dilated. I was eventually hooked up to an IV for antibiotics and saline. The nurse checked me an hour later and I was five centimetres. Feeling discouraged, I told Babydaddy I wanted to die. And I wanted an epidural, something I was against during my pregnancy. There were still no beds, so I continued to labour in triage. Eventually, I started bucking from the contractions. I felt possessed. During one contraction there was a gush of fluid. "My water broke!" I cried out. No, Dana the Nurse confirmed, you peed. She checked me and exclaimed that in half an hour I had fully dilated and was now 100% effaced and the baby's head was pushing against the membrane. I said I had to poo and went to the washroom. "Don't push!" she said through the door. "I CAN'T HELP IT!!!" I yelled back. She burst in the bathroom and got me back in the bed and then was on the phone yelling "My girl is going to go! I need a bed now!"
And that is how Teagan Evangeline made her way into the world, quickly and relatively easily. She latched right away and nursed happily for a little while before being assessed and getting her bath. Our nurses from triage and the previous day's Prostin adventure came to say hi and meet Teagan. The story made its way around the maternity floor and might be something of legend, especially for a first time mom.
When It Rains...
I offer my sincere apologies for the lack of posts! Blogging has taken a backseat to a plethora of events and issues that have arisen over the last few weeks.
The last week of November, my blood pressure started to rise to alarming levels. After a number of doctor's visits and a trip to the hospital for monitoring, I was placed on medical leave from work. To ensure my and baby's health, I was prescribed medication and placed under the supervision of an antenatal home care program with daily visits from a nurse. I also started going for weekly fetal assessments and ultrasounds, which was nice -seeing my baby was a bonus- but also stressful -parking around the hospital is atrocious.
To make matters worse, our neighbour's house exploded at the beginning of December. Details are still being sorted out, but our house, shed and Babydaddy's old car caught fire. Damage was entirely exterior, but the firefighters trampled all over our brand new kitchen floors and left soot marks on the walls during their search of the house. We lost all our camping gear and the car was completely destroyed. This happened two days before I officially moved into the house, after all the renovations Babydaddy and his dad did to make the house comfortable for our little family. The move went smoothly, thanks to the assistance of our families and friends and after settling in, I felt infinitely more prepared for baby to arrive. We're still dealing with the aftermath of the fire, but Babydaddy is taking charge of that, meaning more rest time for me.
On the up and up, the fire has given us a reason to sing various renditions of Billy Joel's "We didn't start the fire"...because we didn't.
The last week of November, my blood pressure started to rise to alarming levels. After a number of doctor's visits and a trip to the hospital for monitoring, I was placed on medical leave from work. To ensure my and baby's health, I was prescribed medication and placed under the supervision of an antenatal home care program with daily visits from a nurse. I also started going for weekly fetal assessments and ultrasounds, which was nice -seeing my baby was a bonus- but also stressful -parking around the hospital is atrocious.
To make matters worse, our neighbour's house exploded at the beginning of December. Details are still being sorted out, but our house, shed and Babydaddy's old car caught fire. Damage was entirely exterior, but the firefighters trampled all over our brand new kitchen floors and left soot marks on the walls during their search of the house. We lost all our camping gear and the car was completely destroyed. This happened two days before I officially moved into the house, after all the renovations Babydaddy and his dad did to make the house comfortable for our little family. The move went smoothly, thanks to the assistance of our families and friends and after settling in, I felt infinitely more prepared for baby to arrive. We're still dealing with the aftermath of the fire, but Babydaddy is taking charge of that, meaning more rest time for me.
On the up and up, the fire has given us a reason to sing various renditions of Billy Joel's "We didn't start the fire"...because we didn't.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Baby Shower
Last weekend, the grandmas-to-be hosted a baby shower for our little monkey. Our aunts, cousins and friends of our moms descended upon us in droves to present us with all the accoutrements necessary to housing, feeding, diapering, clothing and caring for a baby. Both Babydaddy and I were overwhelmed by the generosity and kindness of everyone who attended and consider ourselves so blessed to have such wonderful people in our lives.
We are now flush with diapers, which is a huge relief...we're going the cloth route with diapering. The massive amounts of money parents spend on diapering, coupled with the environmental impact of disposable diapers made me certain that cloth was the right choice for us. A disposable diaper will sit in a landfill for 250 years before decomposing! That weighs on my conscious, given my affection for Planet Earth. Furthermore, average potty-training age has risen expotentially since the introduction of disposable diapers...I'm optimistic that my diapering years will be limited by using cloth. That and the fact that both Babydaddy and I loved being clean and nude far too much to stay in diapers for long.
We're slowly working on getting the nursery ready for the little monkey -then we can unpack all our fantastic gifts and get to work arguing about how to set up the swing and bouncy chair!
We are now flush with diapers, which is a huge relief...we're going the cloth route with diapering. The massive amounts of money parents spend on diapering, coupled with the environmental impact of disposable diapers made me certain that cloth was the right choice for us. A disposable diaper will sit in a landfill for 250 years before decomposing! That weighs on my conscious, given my affection for Planet Earth. Furthermore, average potty-training age has risen expotentially since the introduction of disposable diapers...I'm optimistic that my diapering years will be limited by using cloth. That and the fact that both Babydaddy and I loved being clean and nude far too much to stay in diapers for long.
We're slowly working on getting the nursery ready for the little monkey -then we can unpack all our fantastic gifts and get to work arguing about how to set up the swing and bouncy chair!
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Only Six More Weeks!
Despite the many assurances from laypeople and medical professionals alike, my nausea and so-called morning sickness has continued, uninterrupted, for tje last 28 weeks. It reared its ugly head around the six week mark, meaning that I've ralphed daily in three seasons, two countries, half a dozen bathrooms, morning, noon and night.
Everytime a person asks how I'm feeling or how pregnancy is treating me, I'm honest. Pregnancy hasn't been awful...no swelling, no weight gain, no leg cramps, no acne or mask of pregnancy, no stretch marks, no headaches, no diabetes. My blood pressure is perfect and the baby, by all accounts, appears happy and healthy. I do admit, however, that I still have morning sickness. At first people would say "Oh, that will end by 14 weeks" then "16 weeks" then "18 weeks" and eventually "that will end...when the baby's born." Let's hope!
Last night was my first bout of middle-of-the-night vomiting. I woke up for my regular 3:30 AM pee and decided to have a few sips of juice, since I was feeling nauseated. I got back into bed and dozed for a while before rising once again to empty my ever-bursting bladder. After I piddled and washed my hands, the familiar urge to throw up washed over me. I hunched over the sink, bringing the little juice I drank and remnants of my bedtime snack. A thorough toothbrushing and facewashing later, I was back in bed, desperate for a few more hours of nausea-free sleep.
My mantra has become "only [blank] more weeks" til I can wake up without throwing up. Only six more weeks!
Everytime a person asks how I'm feeling or how pregnancy is treating me, I'm honest. Pregnancy hasn't been awful...no swelling, no weight gain, no leg cramps, no acne or mask of pregnancy, no stretch marks, no headaches, no diabetes. My blood pressure is perfect and the baby, by all accounts, appears happy and healthy. I do admit, however, that I still have morning sickness. At first people would say "Oh, that will end by 14 weeks" then "16 weeks" then "18 weeks" and eventually "that will end...when the baby's born." Let's hope!
Last night was my first bout of middle-of-the-night vomiting. I woke up for my regular 3:30 AM pee and decided to have a few sips of juice, since I was feeling nauseated. I got back into bed and dozed for a while before rising once again to empty my ever-bursting bladder. After I piddled and washed my hands, the familiar urge to throw up washed over me. I hunched over the sink, bringing the little juice I drank and remnants of my bedtime snack. A thorough toothbrushing and facewashing later, I was back in bed, desperate for a few more hours of nausea-free sleep.
My mantra has become "only [blank] more weeks" til I can wake up without throwing up. Only six more weeks!
Hospital Tour
Our hospital offers monthly virtual tours of their facility to allow expectant parents to familiarize themselves with the procedures abd policies surrounding labour and delivery.
The first portion of the evening was all about anathesia, although our current birth plan includes a drug-free labour. While the information was...there and important in case of c-section, it was delivered as slowly and painfully as possible. It made me want an injection of morphine right then and there! We had to sit through the presentation, however, to get to the main reason for our attendance -the hospital tour!
The nurse presenting the tour was funny, warm and animated. And everything she said ticked the boxes on my list of labour, delivery and recovery "wants". Changing positions throughout labour? Check! Pursuing a variety of pushing positions? Check! Showers for comfort? Check! Hydrotheraphy tub? Check! Immediate skin to skin with baby? Check! Breastfeeding within moments of delivery? Check! Babydaddy allowed to overnight with baby and I? Check!
Learning all this makes me feel even more comfortable and confident about giving birth. However comfortable one can feel about pushing an object the size of a watermelon out of a 10 cm opening..
The first portion of the evening was all about anathesia, although our current birth plan includes a drug-free labour. While the information was...there and important in case of c-section, it was delivered as slowly and painfully as possible. It made me want an injection of morphine right then and there! We had to sit through the presentation, however, to get to the main reason for our attendance -the hospital tour!
The nurse presenting the tour was funny, warm and animated. And everything she said ticked the boxes on my list of labour, delivery and recovery "wants". Changing positions throughout labour? Check! Pursuing a variety of pushing positions? Check! Showers for comfort? Check! Hydrotheraphy tub? Check! Immediate skin to skin with baby? Check! Breastfeeding within moments of delivery? Check! Babydaddy allowed to overnight with baby and I? Check!
Learning all this makes me feel even more comfortable and confident about giving birth. However comfortable one can feel about pushing an object the size of a watermelon out of a 10 cm opening..
Friday, November 11, 2011
Little Bunton Bag
With two solid boy's names both Babydaddy and I love, I'm a bit panicked that we only have one solid girl's name. If we have a boy, we'll look him over before deciding which name best suits our son. And if we have a girl, we better hope she fits the name we picked. Otherwise, we're in trouble.
Yesterday, Babydaddy picked me up from work. On the drive home, I mentioned that the baby is now the size of a honeydew melon. We joked about the baby having green-tinged skin like a alien or Bunsen Honeydew, the Muppets character. "What about the name Bunsen?" I asked in jest. That was my first mistake.
Babydaddy: How about the name Bunton?
Me: Bunton?
Babydaddy: Yes!
Me: Bunton Baerbig?
Babydaddy: Yes!
Me: What would the middle name be?
Babydaddy: Bag.
Me: Bunton Bag? Bunton Bag Baerbig?
Babydaddy: Yes!
Me: What would we call the baby for short?
Babydaddy: Bunt.
Me: Bunt? What about Bunbun? Or Bunny!
Babydaddy: No. Bunt.
Me: Ugh.
And that, my friends, is why we don't have a second girl's name. At least he makes me laugh.
Yesterday, Babydaddy picked me up from work. On the drive home, I mentioned that the baby is now the size of a honeydew melon. We joked about the baby having green-tinged skin like a alien or Bunsen Honeydew, the Muppets character. "What about the name Bunsen?" I asked in jest. That was my first mistake.
Babydaddy: How about the name Bunton?
Me: Bunton?
Babydaddy: Yes!
Me: Bunton Baerbig?
Babydaddy: Yes!
Me: What would the middle name be?
Babydaddy: Bag.
Me: Bunton Bag? Bunton Bag Baerbig?
Babydaddy: Yes!
Me: What would we call the baby for short?
Babydaddy: Bunt.
Me: Bunt? What about Bunbun? Or Bunny!
Babydaddy: No. Bunt.
Me: Ugh.
And that, my friends, is why we don't have a second girl's name. At least he makes me laugh.
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