six cats in the yard

We are starting to get back into a routine that we hope will be interrupted by a move to portland. My perfect day would include an early-morning walk, followed by breakfast. Short nap for Maddie, then some play/bonding time. Next would be a 3-hour nap for Madeleine and yoga, meditation, and possibly time to take care of dinner prep for me, then more bonding time. Short late afternoon nap. More bonding time. The rest of it can be up in the air.

Wednesday we had a mostly good day. Walk on a beautiful, sunny fall day with a happy baby.

The summer flowers were still hanging on in most of the neighborhood.

Madeleine’s nap lasted 1.5 hours which gave me enough time  for a nice yoga session and she was happy and googly most of the day. The next day, of course, was a full-blown scream fest in the afternoon when I tried to get the sleepy beepy to nap and then again that night when we tried to put her down …. Ah well. You can’t win every day.

After spending two weeks in Eugene doing my best to help out with my mom, we  discovered the usefulness in the vibrating chair (for the baby) and the baby swing, so we ordered them both immediately upon arriving home. And I mean immediately, in that we hadn’t been home for more than an hour when they were on their way. They don’t always work, but often they can give me enough time to shower or to make dinner (as long as none of that takes more than 5 minutes).

But sometimes they don’t work so well and we are again reminded that Madeleine is one very opinionated infant and has been since birth. We have a healthy fear of her toddler years. And we think it will start early. 

I’m going to try my best to update this blog over the next couple of weeks, as nap time & daddy time give me a little break from the wee one. Lots of things, both good and bad, have happened over the last 2.5 months. 

• a baby (actually several if you include friends’ babies) was born

• my mother succumbed to pancreatic and liver cancer

• Leigh’s father passed away only a week after my mother

• we are still trying to sell (or rent) our house and move to Portland and we are keeping our fingers crossed that we make it before Nov. 1

• stay tuned because I’m sure there will be more news; I just hope that it’s all good for awhile.

In order to give myself a break and make it easier to update from here, I thought I would just give the highlights of what I remember from the first two months:

The first couple of days were spent in the hospital. I tried to get them to send me home a day early but they were having none of it. It was nice to be able to, albeit with a guilty mind, turn Madeleine over to the nurses at midnight the 2nd & 3rd nights in order to get some sleep for an unbroken 3 hours, but it was nicer to go home. They discovered that she was a “tummy sleeper”, which apparently, most babies are. She still sleeps on her stomach and it means that I will probably wait as long as possible to transition her from co-sleeping to sleeping full nights in her own crib. 

The first week home it was nice to have my stepmother, Christina, here to help out with taking her during the day to give me some nap time, though I hesitated so much to part with her. Even now, I think I should give her more daddy time but it is difficult to let her go. I understand now what empty nesters must go through.

Unfortunately, Leigh had to go back to work the week after she was born.

She was holding her head up from birth, but still needed support often and she was scooting and grunting shortly after birth, so we’re afraid she may be walking early. We also discovered that she doesn’t like hats and doesn’t like to be swaddled. In addition, her favorite settling position is being held on her stomach with a thumb in her mouth (we had taken her pacifier away, only to give it back at 6 weeks of age). 

I had a few visitors during the first week home, namely my cousin Kailee and her son Caden, along with my Aunt Sherri and Uncle Scott. I also had a visit from my mother, which I will leave, perhaps, for another post.

Her first 6 weeks are a blur, mostly sleeping, feeding and diaper changing with a few of my own breakdowns and cry fests from lack of sleep or from grief (see post about my mother). I think most days I never changed out of my pajamas and many days I spent in front of the the television, catching up on old CSIs and getting into new shows like Eureka and Burn Notice (because when you’ve seen every MASH or Star Trek episode a million times, and you’ve watched about as much home improvement shows as you can handle unless your name is Leigh, trying new shows just makes sense).

Our first venture forth into the real world was at 2 weeks old in order to print photos for my mother. It ended in her screaming through the checkout process. I calmed her down enough to set her back in her carrier, where she almost promptly fell asleep, giving me an opportunity to go grocery shopping with no screaming whatsoever. I think at that point, I was still very afraid of her crying in a public place. I was still unsure of my own ability to read her signs and know what she needed. 

My good friend Emily and her son & husband moved back to the states when Mad was about 3 weeks old and we’ve been able to spend some good, quality time together.

Stephanie came to visit for a few days and we went out to our first dining experience as well as our first coffeehouse adventure.

Right about that time, she started smiling and cooing (was it Stephanie’s presence? We’ll never know). We also, at four weeks, gave her her 1st bath and she seemed to like it.

About 6 weeks of age, she started drooling, so we wonder if she’ll get a tooth early.

Then when Madeleine was 6 weeks old, our routine was completely disrupted.

They told us in childbirth class that we needed to make a plan and then expect it to all go to hell. When we chose the homebirth route, I think a part of me expected to end up at the hospital. Still, we had our perfect plan. My stepmother arrived the day I was due, July 22nd, and we were all hoping I would go into labor right away. By that time, I was ready to see what this baby looked like and start the next step in the parenting experience.

My labor started with my water breaking at about 9:45pm on Monday, July 28, which was good because I’m not sure I would have known, with my mild contractions, that I was in labor. Christina had just gone to bed, so we woke her up and called the midwife immediately. My contractions were about 5 minutes apart but were only lasting about 15-45 seconds and weren’t very strong. In fact, they were barely perceptible. She and her assistant headed out to Hood River from their home base in Portland and arrived just before midnight. She started IV antibiotics (which was protocol for my particular case) and checked the baby’s heart rate (which was normal), determined that I was not really dilated and told us to get some sleep. All of us settled in for a few hours of sleep. Four hours later, she gave me another dose of antibiotics and again checked the baby’s heart rate and position. No change. 

We basically spent the next day getting an herbal remedy that was similar to oxytocin (pitocin) meant to stimulate my body to produce more and stronger contractions, hanging out (in my case, that meant doing crosswords) and waiting for things to progress. Eventually, the midwife tried acupuncture. Both the herbal concoction and the acupuncture worked mildly but in the end nothing brought me closer to a natural birth. By 7pm, I still hadn’t dilated and we headed down the hill to the hospital.

Ironically enough, the labor room I was given was the same one that clinched my decision to go with a home birth. They hooked me up to the machine that would monitor the baby’s heart rate and continuously had trouble keeping track of the beat. The doctor (another story entirely because it ended up not being my regular doctor, but he was a *great* second pick, full of jokes and light banter) evaluated the situation and immediately became serious. He wanted to make sure that I understood the gravity of the situation (the heart rate had twice decelerated and the baby was showing signs of distress) and that I understood why he was recommending a c-section. I think he was afraid that I would try to argue with him about trying for a natural birth, but all I cared about was that the baby was born alive and healthy (and beautiful of course). I was also getting tired of the back and forth and of the contractions that were going nowhere as well as the repeated checks on my cervix. I was getting ready to yell at someone to just get on with it.

From that point on, I have to say that I was really happy and impressed with everyone in the operating room. The anesthesiologist (who was named Lee and, we found out later, was from Louisiana), kept calling me “Boo”. An affectionate term he calls everyone, said one of the nurses later. He alternated between cracking jokes and deftly explaining everything that was about to happen, from the spinal to the final suturing. Of course, initially, when I could still feel the pinch he gave me along the soon-to-be incision line I balked a little, but by the time they made the cut, I couldn’t feel a thing. I don’t know that I’ve been numb in that way before and it was a very strange sensation not to be able to move my legs. 

 It seemed no time between the initial incision and the tug when they began to maneuver the baby out. All of a sudden I heard the baby’s first cries and the doctor announced that it was a girl. I didn’t realize that I was holding my breath until I finally breathed. I had been so afraid that something had gone wrong and the baby wasn’t going to be breathing or responsive. And, of course, I also was anxious to know if it was a boy or girl. In that instant that I heard the baby’s cries, I started laughing and crying at the same time, especially after they announced that it was a girl.

I don’t know what I would have done without Leigh there holding my hand, especially after they’d pulled Madeleine out and were sewing me up. I couldn’t breathe and honestly thought I was going to die.

The rest of the night was kind of a blur. I was both exhausted and too wired to sleep because all I really wanted to do was stare at Madeleine and take her in.

Very spectacular sunset yesterday when we thought it just might rain!  But no such luck. 

I didn’t manage to get pictures of my second spa day, which I shared with Tricia who is also pregnant and getting closer to her due date every day (she’s officially 3 weeks behind me). But the leg/foot massage we got in Portland at the Barefoot Sage was lovely. Today’s spa day was also courtesy of my wonderful, thoughtful co-workers, who gave me another gift certificate to Foils in Hood River (highly recommended). So I figured, since I’d gotten my manicure and pedicure recently I really didn’t need to get another one so soon. And god forbid I should “save it for later”… I knew that if I wasn’t going to be working for a few months that I could do something semi wild & crazy with my hair. It’s not as off the wall as I wanted, but it’s still dramatic for me. See below. Definitely not so flattering when you’re taking the photos yourself. The “during” photo is mildly frightening…feel like Pebbles with tinfoil rather than a bone. But here’s before & after! 

(Very frightening, especially the look of concentration). 

Leigh very nicely took my “after” photo. Much mo’ betta.

 I’m a little late in posting this particular bit and will likely let the photos do most of the talking. It was a very wonderful, unexpectedly sunny day in Seattle and Stephanie, who is the most generous friend for hosting not only my 30th birthday party when it occurred, but she also threw our wedding shower and then offered to throw us a baby shower as well. I still haven’t come up with an appropriate way to say “thank you” (at least a massage gift cert is in order I think). 

It was so nice to see all of those who were able to make it. I think the kids actually may have outnumbered (or at least equalled) the adult population.

My friend Mark, who, like us, was surprised by his partner’s own pregnancy, brought his new family with him…two very cute little girls under 5, I think! It’s been good training for him because I’d be willing to bet his girlfriend has another girl (she knows the gender, but he doesn’t).

Mary & Thomas, Nirmala & Donald, Stephanie’s mom Anne, Jill & Mattson with their two toddlers, and Colin & Hye Jung with their brood as well all made the festivities well worth the drive from Hood River just by coming to celebrate the event.  

Hopefully we won’t have to wait for another baby to see everyone again! And it’s been so long since the day, that I have to ask apologies in advance if I forgot anyone who came!

After waffling for several days about whether or not to make the trip to Florence for the Ginsberg annual OCF trip, I felt good enough to be gung-ho about sleeping on the ground while being 9 months pregnant. I pulled together emergency numbers (just in case) for Eugene hospitals and checked with my doctor and midwife that there were no obvious signs of impending labor (not that it couldn’t happen at the drop of a hat at this point), made sure that Leigh had all the same numbers and managed to get on the road with a lot of energy. By the time I got to the site that night at 6:30, however, and set up the tent and the air mattress by myself (Leigh couldn’t make it until the next night), I was ready for the inevitable 2-hour nap!

It was so nice to spend the night under the stars with the pine smell and the cool coastal breeze as a remedy for the insufferably hot Gorge weather that’s been a little overwhelming the last week or so. The first night I managed to say hi to Stephanie & her brother’s crew and that was about it before I hit the tent and actually slept pretty damn well for having to struggle to get my big fat belly and ass off the ground to get up to pee at least 3 or 4 times that night. 

I felt good enough the next morning to contemplate spending a few hours wandering around the always colorful Country Fair. For those of you who have never been or never heard of it, it’s basically a giant hippie fest that’s been going on for almost 40 years. There used to be a lot more nudity and a lot stronger smells of the Ganja, but nowadays they bill it as “family fare”. However, if you are part of a family that gets shocked and easily offended by nudity and some raunchy costumes, you will not be very happy. When I was growing up, a lot of people in town (usually from Springfield) would go to twitter and turn red at the spectacle of naked men and women. Ah well. There’s a ton of good food (Ritta’s burritos all the way), lively and friendly attitude, and beautiful, artistic displays of individuality. Highly recommend a trip. Plus the crafts and clothes are unique if not expensive.

The only thing I bought besides a lot of food and lemonade, was a painted belly:

I had two very respectable looking men stop me and ask quite politely if they could take my picture. I also got a lot of thumbs up and very joyful looks. I saw one woman pointing at me and telling her friend that that was going to be one happy baby, she could tell just from the sunflower on my expanding belly. And, the funniest thing was when a mother and father pointed me out to their 5 or 6-year-old son to tell him that the first time he’d come to the fair he’d been about as old as the baby in my belly. The little boy looked a little skeptical and unsure as to what to do with the information. But his parents looked so thrilled to be able to be telling him this that I couldn’t help but laugh with them. It was a celebration for me of the growing being I am carrying, but it was also nice to know that my act of “exposure” brought some amount of joy and happy amusement to others.

I think I’m already allowing my time off to affect my brain in a good way. We’ve lived in Hood River for a year and a half and have probably seen my good friend Emily’s dad Jim (with the cherry orchard in Mosier where we met and later married) a handful of times (bad Amanda!), though I think of him often and mean to see him more often. Since Monday I’ve been both busy and leisurely. On Monday I met our friend Tricia (also unexpectedly in the baby way) for lunch and a very lovely scoop of Ginger Chai ice cream. I meandered through Ikea to find *a bunch* of furniture and baby items that I longed to purchase. I was good, though, and only bought what I went there for: a dresser (well, 2) for the baby things. (Part of that nesting instinct? or maybe I’m just feeling embarrassed that all of our baby clothes & accessories are neatly piled in the day crib covered by a blanket so the cats don’t leave their cat hair everywhere when they sleep on top of it, which they inevitably do).

Then on Tuesday I decided to head to The Dalles to get some wood stain for the dressers and, as I do every time I come up on the Mosier exit on my way, I thought of Jim and wondered how he was doing, how the cherry harvest was going, and what he was up to. I realized that I had nowhere in particular to be, no real schedule to keep and, with the exception of waiting on the baby, I really had all the time in the world! So I veered off the highway and headed into Mosier to see him. Luckily, he was at the house (and not yet taking his afternoon nap?) and we managed to catch up. Bonus: cherries to take home with me!

I spent the remainder of the afternoon Tues. & morning on Monday pitting and freezing cherries. I meant to get photos of my cherry-stained fingers and just haven’t gotten into the swing of snapping photos of every detail, so the text will have to suffice. I pitted enough very ripe cherries to fill about 8 good-sized containers, so now I’ll have to look up some good recipes so they don’t go to waste. I will eat the rest this weekend if we go camping on the Oregon coast. If they last that long! Yum!