So yesterday Doug's company had their annual company picnic at a nearby waterbpark. We had told Natalya that we would be going to the waterpark (though she didn't have a clue what that was, I guess it sounded fun). :) So yesterday, she wakes up at 6am and says, Mommy, get up we have to go to the waterpark! *ugh*
We did go, left the house around 11am and she of course, fell asleep on the way there. :) She had a blast thought. She swam like a fish with her floaties and even went down the massive slide with Daddy. I think she was waterlogged because she had a hard time sleeping last night! We asked her what her favorite thing was and she replied, "the water". :) She also loved the "beach". The park is on a lake and they have a sand beach in one place where you can get in the water and play. She absolutely loved the sand. I can't even guess how much sand I later cleaned out of her swimsuit and her body's cracks and crevices. Maybe I can find the closest ocean beach to us (S.Carolina? N/Carolina?) and we can go. I think she would love that.
It was hot, there were a TON of people, and the food was not vegetarian friendly, so we ate a lot of chips and cookies, but we had fun regardless. (Come to think of it, maybe it was all the chips and cookies that made her have a hard time sleeping ;)
Monday, June 23, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Ultrasound pics
Here are a few of the ultrasound pics from yesterday's session. hey are kind of blurry b/c he was moving a lot! Enjoy :)
A profile shot
A profile shot
His feet
And here's the proof- a BOY!
Wait, couldn't you see it? Ok, here you go...with notes. :)
A profile shot
A profile shot
His feet
And here's the proof- a BOY!
Wait, couldn't you see it? Ok, here you go...with notes. :)
Monday, June 16, 2008
The results are in
And it's a boy! Natalya is thrilled to be having a little brother! She was dancing around the ultrasound room saying "I'm having a brother - YAY!" It was so darn cute. Everything looks great with him. He's measuring right on at 20 weeks and everything looks great. The best part? Seeing his heart beating. :)
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Today I am thankful for
my beautiful, precocious, brilliant, stubborn daughter. For the laughter and joy she brings to my life. For the moments that I am amazed at her wit and comprehension of things.
Doug's job. For being home every night and two days a week. For having GOOD insurance (thank you large corporation).
my health and the health of little bean. I am feeling thumps and flutters pretty regularly now, several times a day at least, and can't wait until Monday when I can see him/her again and hear the heartbeat.
the roof over my head and
air conditioning. Thank you inventor of air conditioning. If it didn't exist, I'd be living in Yellowknife Canada or Tongue Scotland.
Doug's job. For being home every night and two days a week. For having GOOD insurance (thank you large corporation).
my health and the health of little bean. I am feeling thumps and flutters pretty regularly now, several times a day at least, and can't wait until Monday when I can see him/her again and hear the heartbeat.
the roof over my head and
air conditioning. Thank you inventor of air conditioning. If it didn't exist, I'd be living in Yellowknife Canada or Tongue Scotland.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Natalya's birthday theme
Natalya tells us she wants fairies for her birthday, Tinkerbell to be exact. She is obsessed with Tinkerbell. In fact, she just informed me that "one day I'm going to get a Tinkerbell tattoo". Really? :D
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
I won!
I should actually credit Doug for this.
I have been wanting to get another Freehand Mei Tai. I love them so much I want a back-up, but they recently were bought by another person/company so they've been out of circulation for a while since the old owner stopped making them a bit ago and the new owner is currently making them to sell.
Anyway, I checked in on their site Saturday and they're in the process of making them now to sell but they aren't currently selling them. Meanwhile, to celebrate, they were having a contest. Tell why your baby carrier helped you, or your favorite babywearing moments, etc.
I shared Doug's story and won!
The cool thing is that the contest was only through May and I entered it on May 31st at like 10:30pm. (although I think they are extending it for a few more months, I don't know if a FH will be the prize)
If anyone else wants to enter for this month, the website is: http://www.togetherbe.com/contestFre...iGiveAway.aspx
Here's my (doug's) story as it was posted:
Brandy, Clarksville
"My daughter is nearly three years old and we still wear her in her Freehand MT that we've had since she was a newborn. It has been a lifesaver for us for everything from housecleaning to outings where strollers aren't feasible. In the beginning though, my husband wore her most, nearly 75% of the day, as I worked full-time and he was a sahm Dad. One day I received a phone call from him at work and he informed me that he would no longer be wearing her without a shirt. My daughter, who had refused her bottle twice (nothing new) was fussing (nothing new) so he put her on and was washing dishes. Suddenly he got a shock as she latched on and sucked her heart out. My poor child was probably wondering why Mom's boobs were suddenly flat and hairy while my husband was thankful that I had recently showed him the proper de-latch technique. He appreciated me breastfeeding a lot more after that. "
I have been wanting to get another Freehand Mei Tai. I love them so much I want a back-up, but they recently were bought by another person/company so they've been out of circulation for a while since the old owner stopped making them a bit ago and the new owner is currently making them to sell.
Anyway, I checked in on their site Saturday and they're in the process of making them now to sell but they aren't currently selling them. Meanwhile, to celebrate, they were having a contest. Tell why your baby carrier helped you, or your favorite babywearing moments, etc.
I shared Doug's story and won!
The cool thing is that the contest was only through May and I entered it on May 31st at like 10:30pm. (although I think they are extending it for a few more months, I don't know if a FH will be the prize)
If anyone else wants to enter for this month, the website is: http://www.togetherbe.com/contestFre...iGiveAway.aspx
Here's my (doug's) story as it was posted:
Brandy, Clarksville
"My daughter is nearly three years old and we still wear her in her Freehand MT that we've had since she was a newborn. It has been a lifesaver for us for everything from housecleaning to outings where strollers aren't feasible. In the beginning though, my husband wore her most, nearly 75% of the day, as I worked full-time and he was a sahm Dad. One day I received a phone call from him at work and he informed me that he would no longer be wearing her without a shirt. My daughter, who had refused her bottle twice (nothing new) was fussing (nothing new) so he put her on and was washing dishes. Suddenly he got a shock as she latched on and sucked her heart out. My poor child was probably wondering why Mom's boobs were suddenly flat and hairy while my husband was thankful that I had recently showed him the proper de-latch technique. He appreciated me breastfeeding a lot more after that. "
Baby bean
Speaking of the little bean, I have my next appointment on June 16th and we will also have our ultrasound that day. If s/he is willing, we will find out the sex of the baby. And I honestly don't care. As long as I have a healthy baby in four-ish months, I don't care if it's a boy or girl.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
New jobs and such
In case I haven't mentioned it here, Doug has a new job. He's home every night. *gasp* and two days a week off. *gasp*. It's almost like a real job! I am thrilled, Natalya is thrilled, little baby bean is thrilled (although admittedly, it's a little harder to tell).
Natalya keeps telling me, Mommy, I love it that my daddy's come home. And in the mornings, when she comes in and wakes me up, she says, Daddy's at work. He'll be home tonight. And then she grins.
He's working for Pepsi and as far as we can figure, will be working a lot of hours in the summer and less in the winter, since he's hourly that means save our money now so we can make it through the winter months, but you know what? We'll be fine. GREAT in fact. Because together we are more than we are alone.
Natalya keeps telling me, Mommy, I love it that my daddy's come home. And in the mornings, when she comes in and wakes me up, she says, Daddy's at work. He'll be home tonight. And then she grins.
He's working for Pepsi and as far as we can figure, will be working a lot of hours in the summer and less in the winter, since he's hourly that means save our money now so we can make it through the winter months, but you know what? We'll be fine. GREAT in fact. Because together we are more than we are alone.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
I've been thinking
about birth. Obviously, since it's in my near future. And therefore, I've been thinking about the two births I've experienced so far (of my own that is).
My oldest daughter's birth was planned natural, no meds, with a midwives group and a doula. I took hypnobirthing and planned for my mother and grandmother to be there along with my husband whom I could not do without. He drove me to the midwife's, and then the hospital when Iw asn't feeling well and then I was admitted and induced.
The whole event was unexpected as I was diagnosed with gestational hypertension and was induced nearly two weeks early to prevent preeclempsia. There went my dreams of a med-free birth. First cytotech, then pitocin, then all kinds of other things like a balloon, membrane stripping, water breaking and so on. My birth was long, hard, loud. There was moaning, groaning, some screaming and crying and a lot of random nurses in the room. My husband left my side for mere moments to catch a few winks while I napped between contractions after being given stadol for the pain but was there from the minute I waled in the hospital doors. I managed to avoid the epidural. Unfortunately, the stadol made me a bit loopy and I don't remember a lot of what happened after they gave it to me, until I really started pushing. I know I rocked, and swayed, and I know my wonderful husband spent a lot of time talking to me. I am surprised he didn't lose his voice since he was talking nonstop in my ear, working with me on hypno techniques. I remember crying through transition and saying I wanted her out. NOW. I remember my pulse monitor coming off and the midwives having worried looks (later found out my pulse shot up to 170), I remember pushing on my own as I felt the contractions coming on. I remember Doug sitting behind me and then during each contraction, literally pushing me up and holding me upright so I wasn't laying down and pushing against gravity. I remember the doula videotaping the birth, kneeling on the floor in front of me.
It was long. It was loud. It was draining. And afterward, I was tired. But elated. My body felt as though I'd been run over by a mack truck and every muscle was shaking. I held onto my newborn daughter and all those pains melted away.
After that experience, we decided to go with a homebirth for the second child. My second daughter's birth was even more unexpected. At nearly 31 weeks I suddenly realized I hadn't felt the baby move in a while. After a trip to the ER and learning that my baby had died, I was admitted and called Doug to have him come to the hospital. He was on the road. When I found out my baby died, two nurses and a doctor were with me. No family. No loved ones. The doctor held my hand and one nurse laid a gently hand on my leg. The other nurse cried while I broke down. I was taken to a room and a very sweet nurse offered to sit with me until my husband could arrive. I declined, preferring my own thoughts. She had tears in her eyes as she expressed her grief for me. She never sounded condescending.
I waited for my husband to call me and tell me he was in town and could not sleep. I waited in a mostly dark room while the head nurse checked on me periodically and we waited for the u/s tech to confirm the death. When she arrived, pushing in the machine, I asked her, please, if you can tell the baby's sex from the u/s, can you tell me. I do not know it, but would like to know before it is born, if possible. What was once a fun surprise was now just one more blow. She couldn't tell b/c the baby's legs were together. She left and I was alone.
The doctor and nurse came in and cytotech and cervadil were administered. I started contracting a little, and I walked down the hall to the nurses station to ask if I could take a shower. As I returned to my room and pushed it open, I noticed a postcard taped to my door of a falling leaf. A small subtle comment to all who entered that I had experienced a loss, and not to say anything stupid. All I could think was how perfect that image was. The card was added to a memory box I was later given to take home with other momentos of my daughter's death, footprints, a lock of hair and so forth.
My husband eventually arrived and I was contracting regularly, but din't want an epi b/c I was afraid that i would end up with a c/s due to how early I was. I was given stadol and fell asleep on and off. During this, Doug came and leaned on the bed between my legs, resting his face on my stomach. I can only think he was trying to remember that moment and the feel of the child within me before it was ripped away. I do not know if he knows I remember that since I was loopy on stadol.
I eventually asked for the epi because I was in too much pain. The epi helped and I was given a full epi. I could feel nothing from the waist down, except a constant pain in my back. I'm not sure why but it was almost unbearable.
Through the day Doug and I slept, me on the bed and he on the cot, on and off while nurses and doctors came and went. After a while, I sent him home to bring my daughter to me. I needed to hold my living, breathing child close to me and remember her. After the visit, he took her back to our home with my mom who had come to stay with her and then came back to me.
While he was gone, my blood pressure bottomed out and I nearly fainted. Alone. With only nurses. It was par for the course that day.
The worst moment was when a woman across the hall delivered and her brand new baby started crying. I could hear it. I wept. More than when I found out my child had died. Only the second time since that moment. But I ached. Everything ached.
Over the next hours, we slept. I awoke only to ask the nurses to rotate me from leaning on one side to the other because my back was hurting so badly. They came in and broke my water around 10pm or so b/c I wasn't progressing. At this point I didn't care if they performed a c/s. I just wanted it over.
A little before 1am I awoke and felt uncomfortable again. I paged the nurse and she checked me, saying the head was right there. She took her glove off, came by my side, taking my hand and asked if I was ready. The quiet of the room and the soft breathing of Doug sleeping was loud to my ears as I said simply, yes.
I asked her to wake my husband and she did, telling him that it was time. He came and stood next to me, taking my hand and the order began. I was lifted up toward the ceiling in the bed and the light shone on my nether parts. My feet were put up in stirrups, above me. I was on my back. The nurse again came to my side and asked if we were sure we wanted to see her before she was cleaned up, that she wouldn't look...normal. We said yes.
I was instructed to push, given the counts. After a few minutes, the baby arrived. It's a girl. She was laid in a bassinett and pushed to us. She was blue. Somehow I did not think she would be. She wasn't breathing, so of course, but I didn't expect my warm body to produce a child that color. We cried. They wheeled the bassinett near the door and placed a blanket over her. That was final. Then they pushed her out. Doug and I held each other and cried while I was stitched up. He then sat down b/c he was about to pass out from emotion. Everyone left and the nurse came back to clean me up while we waited for the baby, our daughter, Natalya's sister, to be returned to us.
When she was brought in, Doug picked her up and handed her to me. She was cold. I expected her to be warm, but she wasn't. She had been mostly cleaned and her skin was pink from the rubbing, but her temperature was cold. I geld her for a while, Doug held her for a while and then we called the nurse and said we were ready for them to take her. Doug hesitated when tucking her blanket around her. He looked at her face, then lifted the blanket over he face, then brought it back down. After another moment, he covered her face. I was glad he was the one to do it. It seemed right.
After taking our daughter away I was offered to be moved to a different floor, which I accepted, and Doug and I slept the rest of the time there. My back ached but I was not sore. Except for the obvious pain and the excrutiating pain in my back from the epi, I was not physically tired. I asked to be released as soon as possible. I did not want to be there any more.
Leaving the hospital, I waited in the wheelchair, wheeled out by an orderly, in the carport, for Doug to bring the car around. In front of me, a woman was holding her newborn, and her husband was pulling up in his car. I watched as they put the baby in the carseat and then she got in.
I felt emptier than I ever had.
The really amazing thing is how very different both births were. Natalya's was loud, chaotic, fuzzy (thanks to the stadol) and intense. Margaret's was quiet, calm, organized, yet I remember every single second. I now equate a loud chaotic birth to a good one. One that produces a living, breathing child. The quiet steele resolve of Margaret's birth felt similar to a funeral home to me. Appropriate I suppose.
My oldest daughter's birth was planned natural, no meds, with a midwives group and a doula. I took hypnobirthing and planned for my mother and grandmother to be there along with my husband whom I could not do without. He drove me to the midwife's, and then the hospital when Iw asn't feeling well and then I was admitted and induced.
The whole event was unexpected as I was diagnosed with gestational hypertension and was induced nearly two weeks early to prevent preeclempsia. There went my dreams of a med-free birth. First cytotech, then pitocin, then all kinds of other things like a balloon, membrane stripping, water breaking and so on. My birth was long, hard, loud. There was moaning, groaning, some screaming and crying and a lot of random nurses in the room. My husband left my side for mere moments to catch a few winks while I napped between contractions after being given stadol for the pain but was there from the minute I waled in the hospital doors. I managed to avoid the epidural. Unfortunately, the stadol made me a bit loopy and I don't remember a lot of what happened after they gave it to me, until I really started pushing. I know I rocked, and swayed, and I know my wonderful husband spent a lot of time talking to me. I am surprised he didn't lose his voice since he was talking nonstop in my ear, working with me on hypno techniques. I remember crying through transition and saying I wanted her out. NOW. I remember my pulse monitor coming off and the midwives having worried looks (later found out my pulse shot up to 170), I remember pushing on my own as I felt the contractions coming on. I remember Doug sitting behind me and then during each contraction, literally pushing me up and holding me upright so I wasn't laying down and pushing against gravity. I remember the doula videotaping the birth, kneeling on the floor in front of me.
It was long. It was loud. It was draining. And afterward, I was tired. But elated. My body felt as though I'd been run over by a mack truck and every muscle was shaking. I held onto my newborn daughter and all those pains melted away.
After that experience, we decided to go with a homebirth for the second child. My second daughter's birth was even more unexpected. At nearly 31 weeks I suddenly realized I hadn't felt the baby move in a while. After a trip to the ER and learning that my baby had died, I was admitted and called Doug to have him come to the hospital. He was on the road. When I found out my baby died, two nurses and a doctor were with me. No family. No loved ones. The doctor held my hand and one nurse laid a gently hand on my leg. The other nurse cried while I broke down. I was taken to a room and a very sweet nurse offered to sit with me until my husband could arrive. I declined, preferring my own thoughts. She had tears in her eyes as she expressed her grief for me. She never sounded condescending.
I waited for my husband to call me and tell me he was in town and could not sleep. I waited in a mostly dark room while the head nurse checked on me periodically and we waited for the u/s tech to confirm the death. When she arrived, pushing in the machine, I asked her, please, if you can tell the baby's sex from the u/s, can you tell me. I do not know it, but would like to know before it is born, if possible. What was once a fun surprise was now just one more blow. She couldn't tell b/c the baby's legs were together. She left and I was alone.
The doctor and nurse came in and cytotech and cervadil were administered. I started contracting a little, and I walked down the hall to the nurses station to ask if I could take a shower. As I returned to my room and pushed it open, I noticed a postcard taped to my door of a falling leaf. A small subtle comment to all who entered that I had experienced a loss, and not to say anything stupid. All I could think was how perfect that image was. The card was added to a memory box I was later given to take home with other momentos of my daughter's death, footprints, a lock of hair and so forth.
My husband eventually arrived and I was contracting regularly, but din't want an epi b/c I was afraid that i would end up with a c/s due to how early I was. I was given stadol and fell asleep on and off. During this, Doug came and leaned on the bed between my legs, resting his face on my stomach. I can only think he was trying to remember that moment and the feel of the child within me before it was ripped away. I do not know if he knows I remember that since I was loopy on stadol.
I eventually asked for the epi because I was in too much pain. The epi helped and I was given a full epi. I could feel nothing from the waist down, except a constant pain in my back. I'm not sure why but it was almost unbearable.
Through the day Doug and I slept, me on the bed and he on the cot, on and off while nurses and doctors came and went. After a while, I sent him home to bring my daughter to me. I needed to hold my living, breathing child close to me and remember her. After the visit, he took her back to our home with my mom who had come to stay with her and then came back to me.
While he was gone, my blood pressure bottomed out and I nearly fainted. Alone. With only nurses. It was par for the course that day.
The worst moment was when a woman across the hall delivered and her brand new baby started crying. I could hear it. I wept. More than when I found out my child had died. Only the second time since that moment. But I ached. Everything ached.
Over the next hours, we slept. I awoke only to ask the nurses to rotate me from leaning on one side to the other because my back was hurting so badly. They came in and broke my water around 10pm or so b/c I wasn't progressing. At this point I didn't care if they performed a c/s. I just wanted it over.
A little before 1am I awoke and felt uncomfortable again. I paged the nurse and she checked me, saying the head was right there. She took her glove off, came by my side, taking my hand and asked if I was ready. The quiet of the room and the soft breathing of Doug sleeping was loud to my ears as I said simply, yes.
I asked her to wake my husband and she did, telling him that it was time. He came and stood next to me, taking my hand and the order began. I was lifted up toward the ceiling in the bed and the light shone on my nether parts. My feet were put up in stirrups, above me. I was on my back. The nurse again came to my side and asked if we were sure we wanted to see her before she was cleaned up, that she wouldn't look...normal. We said yes.
I was instructed to push, given the counts. After a few minutes, the baby arrived. It's a girl. She was laid in a bassinett and pushed to us. She was blue. Somehow I did not think she would be. She wasn't breathing, so of course, but I didn't expect my warm body to produce a child that color. We cried. They wheeled the bassinett near the door and placed a blanket over her. That was final. Then they pushed her out. Doug and I held each other and cried while I was stitched up. He then sat down b/c he was about to pass out from emotion. Everyone left and the nurse came back to clean me up while we waited for the baby, our daughter, Natalya's sister, to be returned to us.
When she was brought in, Doug picked her up and handed her to me. She was cold. I expected her to be warm, but she wasn't. She had been mostly cleaned and her skin was pink from the rubbing, but her temperature was cold. I geld her for a while, Doug held her for a while and then we called the nurse and said we were ready for them to take her. Doug hesitated when tucking her blanket around her. He looked at her face, then lifted the blanket over he face, then brought it back down. After another moment, he covered her face. I was glad he was the one to do it. It seemed right.
After taking our daughter away I was offered to be moved to a different floor, which I accepted, and Doug and I slept the rest of the time there. My back ached but I was not sore. Except for the obvious pain and the excrutiating pain in my back from the epi, I was not physically tired. I asked to be released as soon as possible. I did not want to be there any more.
Leaving the hospital, I waited in the wheelchair, wheeled out by an orderly, in the carport, for Doug to bring the car around. In front of me, a woman was holding her newborn, and her husband was pulling up in his car. I watched as they put the baby in the carseat and then she got in.
I felt emptier than I ever had.
The really amazing thing is how very different both births were. Natalya's was loud, chaotic, fuzzy (thanks to the stadol) and intense. Margaret's was quiet, calm, organized, yet I remember every single second. I now equate a loud chaotic birth to a good one. One that produces a living, breathing child. The quiet steele resolve of Margaret's birth felt similar to a funeral home to me. Appropriate I suppose.
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