six cats in the yard

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.

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 have been talking, for months, about wanting a pedicure. I tried to get one in SF in April when we were there and just never was able to make the time. Or I just ran out of money and couldn’t justify the expense. Nonetheless, I kept talking about it. Unexpectedly, one of my friends at work handed me a gift certificate for one of the local salons that would cover the most extensive pedicure. Then I had to decide, oooh, did I want to get a manicure, too?? I made the appointment for both and the day before the appointment, another friend at work said she wanted to pay for the manicure! Very exciting. So then I decided, I might as well get my haircut too. And so goes my spa day.   It took 3 nice, long hours, and started with a manicure that included a paraffin treatment: basically putting your hands in hot vanilla-scented wax.   While she was working on my manicure, another woman came in with her young daughter. I heard them before I saw them, the woman asking what color her daughter wanted (this little thing was probably only about 6 years old or so). Then I looked over at the two to get a look. And all of my preconceived notions about what kind of women get mani/pedis went out the window. The mother was in her late 40s, with long, dark, nearly dredlocked hair and was dressed in modern hippie attire (camo pants & a batik shirt). The daughter was wearing a long knit tan/brown poncho and looked like she could have been one of my childhood friends (or even me), free-flowing towhead blond hair, saltwater sandals, and shorts. The little girl was very excited about getting her nails done and the mother was obviously a regular. Then the mom asked about which of the nail products was more environmentally friendly, and to my amazement, the manicurist pointed her to one particular brand because apparently it didn’t have any formaldeyhde in it! Apparently I have much to learn about all of the ways in which we can make a difference without completely sacrificing some of the small enjoyments in life.  I got my first pedicure 2 years ago at Leigh’s sister’s wedding in Miami. I had previously avoided doing it mostly because I thought it was kind of frivolous and girly, and thought it was just plain silly to spend money on such a thing. Then after the first one, I realized how nice it was to have someone massaging my feet.      I’ve been reading the Simple Living Guide in hopes of getting back to the time before vet school when I really did enjoy just a sunrise or sunset, sitting and laughing with friends, seeing a beautiful flower or enjoying the moment, whatever that moment happened to bring. I haven’t been able to to that in quite awhile. The book has reminded me that “simple living” doesn’t mean depriving yourself. And the mother and her daughter brought home that point. It’s all a matter of spending your hard-earned money (or in my case, someone else’s) on something that brings you joy, even as you realize that it is a transient joy. My nail polish lasted less than a week, but the moments enjoying the massage, the soft lotions, the smells and the overall experience has helped to bring me one step closer to my goal of slowing myself down and taking in the moment.

Too long a hiatus from the blog. Mostly laziness and being completely exhausted after getting home from a long day at work. The winter was (is?) too long this year and too damn cold. We’ve had good ob/gyn visits throughout the pregnancy and, now that I’m halfway through my 8th month, I am eagerly awaiting the time when I will no longer be pregnant. It’s been a challenge, emotionally rewarding, awe-inspiring, wondrous, too, but mostly it’s been exhausting. It’s interesting to feel the changes, and I think they happen daily. I know that I feel as though I wake up some mornings to find that my midsection has visibly grown overnight. Now the baby is seen as well as felt with its motions, jabs, kicks, stretches, rolls, whatever the hell it’s doing in there. I keep telling Leigh we should enroll it immediately in a karate class.

I am very happy that Leigh has managed to put up, mostly, with my complaints and my requests. I think we’re both getting used to the idea of being parents. I had some low moments in the beginning of the pregnancy, wondering what the hell we were doing, even though I’d always wanted kids. But having to get through the day-to-day physical discomforts made me nervous. If I couldn’t handle those, how was I going to handle putting much of my life aside for a demanding, helpless little being. I still have anxieties (doesn’t everyone?) but I feel more excited and anticipation than anything else. And besides, I can’t wait to try out the new plastic baby tub and the car seat. I don’t know how Leigh will handle the diaper changing, but I know that he’ll step up to the task. If he can clean out the cat boxes and wipe away kitty vomit, I think he’ll do fine with baby poop.

I know that I will wish, once the baby’s here, that I’d read more about what to expect and how to optimize their brain and growth, but I find that I’ll never retain the info I read anyway and that I sometimes just want to sleep rather than pick up a book. Hopefully I can make use of friends and family as parenting resources once the little one is here.

While I want our child to be a genius, I don’t want to push so hard that they don’t have fun and enjoy learning. We joke about wanting him or her to be musical and creative and outgoing…this may mean that we’d better have a Leo/Cancer cusp baby rather just a Cancer baby I hope they enjoy music, dance, sports, science, literature….and I hope they will be well rounded and compassionate. I hope that I can find exciting, creative ways to spend the time with them, so that they always know how to entertain themselves and be happy to learn and experience new things. It will be a challenge to me as well to take myself out of my shell and be able to provide those things for a child. But then I think children bring that out in people sometimes and hope that will be the case for me and I will rise to the occasion.

We have, so far, decided on a home birth. Whether that will be the way it turns out, it’s anyone’s guess. I am excited and nervous about that, mostly because I’m curious about the way I will be able to handle the birth process. I love my doctor here and would go to the hospital if it were more “home-like” but I also love the midwife and trust in her skill.

The biggest news (besides the baby) since the last posting in December is that Leigh and I have decided that Hood River just isn’t economically viable for Leigh’s line of work and he has found a job in Portland with a web/interactive design agency and now commutes every day. This means, that while commuting is certainly an option and done by some here in town, moving to Portland is the best thing, especially since I’m not sure completely satisfied with my work right now and Portland has a wider range of options for me as well.

Besides, with all the friends we have in the Portland area, we just might get to have a social life again! And think of all the thai and sushi restaurants we’ll have to choose from…Too little time, too many food choices. Though we will definitely miss the Sushi Okalani in town, we won’t miss the lack of other choices. We’ll miss First Friday in the spring & summer. And Leigh will definitely miss his friend Mike and the many Datsun bonding moments that they have regularly. All that talk of carburators…sigh. And I will (sort of) miss seeing the same people downtown and recognizing clients when I go into the grocery store.

I’ve avoided pictures throughout the pregnancy mostly because I feel like I’m big as a house, but I had Leigh take a few so people can really see that I’m pregnant, in case they didn’t believe us :)