Two Weeks

Can you believe it? Bunting is two weeks old.
Stats:
9lbs, 4 ozs (re-attained his birth weight, put on 16 ozs in 10 days! Thank goodness the incessant eating is paying off- this nursing business is such a leap of faith. I can't actually see the milk that he is consuming, there are no ounce markers on my breasts, dammit)

Exhibit A: Cheeks!

 
21 1/4 inches (has grown 3/4 of an inch since birth)
37 cm head (noggin has grown 1 cm)

He is a delight. I always knew I would love babyhood (I had such an incredibly good time with the babies when I was a nanny), I just didn't know how fun it would be right off the bat. I figured that I would just have to sort of survive the first weeks, and after the fabled 'fourth trimester' things would get fun.  I think that I am able to enjoy these early days so much because:

A) I have Mepher and FRK.  Mepher and I are as close as sisters can be, plus she is super baby competent.  I know I can just hand him over and she will take care of things, whilst I eat, shower, etcetera.  FRK has been around babies more than most men, is very hands on, and is a naturally cautious but very affectionate person;  I know how lucky I am.

B) Just say no to drugs!!! I am very sensitive to pharmaceuticals, especially narcotics.  I refused anything in my epidural except for the numbing agent (bupivacaine). Which worked disturbingly well; I was advised that I would be able to feel pressure, but I felt nothing. Nada. I could hear them operating, but no sensation.  Usually the protocol also includes a long acting morphine, which I explicitly refused.  I have heard so many anecdotal stories of women who are woozy and out of it after a c-section, so much so that they don't have a chance to begin bonding with their baby for hours (which is proven to hinder breastfeeding). Though my legs were numb for hours, I was mentally alert every single moment.  Also, narcotics are binding, and the hospital requires that you display that 'all systems are go' before they will release you. Their solution is to give you stool softeners.  So the drugs bind you up and make you woozy and unsteady on your feet; yet you cannot have the godawful catheter and IV removed until you can demonstrate that you can take yourself to the bathroom.

C) Perspective.  When Mama was dying, we were up two or three times a night, tending to her needs. We all managed to haul ourselves out of bed and to work every day (we felt like shit, but what other option was there?) and there was no upside.  Just the knowledge that things would inevitably get worse, and then she would die.

So along comes Bunting;  every night I am wakened every 2-3 hours by my baby.  Big deal.  Truly.  We have this beautiful baby boy to love. I don't have to get up at a certain time in the morning. Win-win!

 Bunting is just hilarious- he makes the funniest faces, and lately he has been trying to get his eyes to focus, which he cannot yet do; he just ends up cross eyed, and we (his loving parents) hoot with laughter.

Yesterday F had a meeting, so Bunting and I went to see the pediatrician, ran an errand, met Mepher for lunch, and went for a walk.  A very busy, enjoyable day by my current standards.  Just two short weeks ago, a day like this would have been filed under 'what the hell did you do all day, you lazy layabout'.  I couldn't be happier.

He's here!

 

Our smiley boy. 

Smith Andrew Peng Kraft 

December 15, 2009 at 11:02am

9 lbs, 2 ozs. 20 1/2 inches long. 

Smith in honor of F's grandfather Snuffy. 

Andrew in honor of my father Andy. 

Both of them noble, steadfast, brilliant men who are sorely missed. 

 

  

38 weeks/5 days

Check-up on Tuesday:

Me: Gained 1/2 a pound, blood pressure normal.
Bunting: Strong heartbeat, very wiggly, now transverse (head at 3o'clock, bum at 9o'clock).

The Boy is moving, slowly but surely.  Will he get to where he needs to go in the next week or so? That  remains to be seen.  My midwife, F and I all agree that no matter what, we want to give him as long as possible to cook, so we are in no hurry.  I don't know if I was late (born past my official due date), and I can't ask Mama, but both Nan (paternal grandmother) and F were 'late', so if Bunting cooks past December 20th it won't be a surprise.

Project Flip Bunting 2009 continues- every night F applies the moxa stick to my toes, I lay on the closet door, and put a flashlight betwixt my legs.  There is a theory out there that the baby will turn toward the light (seriously). Who knows if it has any merit- but really, except for looking absurd, what is the harm?  And hey, it might actually work. What is amazing about the moxa stick is the the moment F applies it to my feet Bunting starts wiggling like mad.  It's pretty trippy. I feel like he is trying to move, and so I am doing my best to give him space. I have been seeing a chiropractor certified in the Webster Technique, and I can feel a difference in the level of tension in my uterus.  I have mild scoliosis, and have always had issues with my back getting wonky and leg length discrepancy, so no matter what I think the adjustments have helped as my load gets heavier.

My affirmations (click to make larger)

It's only in the last week that I have begun to be uncomfortable, as my joints loosen up and Bunting grows bigger and bigger.  I seriously waddle at this point, and getting out of bed is a two person operation (I bellow for help, and F levers me into a sitting position, then upright onto the ground).  I am sleeping a lot- but many women have a really hard time sleeping by this point.  I do not.  I have always been an Olympic caliber sleeper (I sleep deeply, and I can sleep anywhere; bed, chair, train, plane, automobile).  I hope Bunting takes after me in this regard.

I have been so blessed throughout this pregnancy, I have felt so incredibly good, ever since the narcoleptic fatigue of the first trimester subsided. I worried for so many years about pregnancy; how I would feel about gaining weight, being nauseous, how it would affect my relationship with F.  It was all for naught. Pregnancy has been an across the board marvelous thing.  I love how I feel, how I look, how it has made my love for F grow even deeper.

Today I am going to buy nursing bras (courtesy of Gigi, aka The Artist Formerly Known as Florence).
OH MY GAH.
I am going to have a baby.
Who let this happen!?!?!?!
*Forehead smack*

Behold the Bump. The Stars and Stripes in the background is a nice touch, yes? 

Still Upside Down

Score at the end of the first half: Bunting 1, Baby Flippers 0


Cliff Notes Summary:
The external version failed. Bunting is still breech.

Extended Club Mix: 
I have long known that if I ever got pregnant, I wanted to avoid a hospital birth if at all possible.  I have been under the care of a very experienced midwife, and have had a homebirth planned since day one of this pregnancy.

Babies of course have their own ideas, and so this morning F and I showed up at our local hospital at 7am for the external version (manual flipping of the baby).

While the doctors and nurses were all very nice and competent, the experience only reinforced my feelings about wanting to avoid a hospital birth.

First and foremost, you are treated as if you are sick.  I am not ill.  I am pregnant.  Despite being present for a fairly simple and uncomplicated procedure,  I was required to go through the whole rigamarole; register as an inpatient, hospital gown, monitor, IV.  I was given terbutaline and fentanyl, and had to wear a fetal monitor.  The monitor kept slipping, when the baby moved the signal would become faint, which freaked out F every time it happened. I could only lie on my back due to the monitor, hands down the most uncomfortable position in my 9 months pregnant state. Ugh. It was terrible.

The version itself was not too bad.  I am extreme lightweight when it comes to drugs; I asked them to give me a very small dose of fentanyl, but wooeee, could I feel it. I felt it going into my veins (a chilly, creeping sensation) and instantly the ceiling became all sparkly.  My sister was cracking up, evidently I become glassy-eyed when high.

The two ob-gyns who attempted the version tried really hard to flip Bunting; he refused to budge, not one iota.  It was not painful, but the pressure was extreme.  My midwife, who has observed many versions, said she had never seen doctors try harder.  The good news is that Bunting tolerated the procedure VERY well; though we were warned that a drop in fetal heart tone was normal and to be expected, and would bounce back quickly, the pushing and prodding did not bother him one bit. His heartbeat remained strong and steady throughout. Basically, he is very strong, and very stubborn. Hmmmm, I wonder where he gets THAT from?

So the plan is to try everything that we can to flip him; I went to an acupuncturist on Thursday, who did needles and moxibustion, I am doing inversion (laying with hips higher than shoulders) to make it easier for him to flip, visualizations, talking to him and encouraging him to flip. I will leave no stone unturned (heh-heh),  and my feeling is that if after all of this he is still breech- well, maybe he is that way for a reason.

Inversion. We are very green. That is an old closet door I am lying on. 

If he remains breech, I will need to have a c-section.  The good news is that the doctor who performed my version, and who would perform my section is a prominent and very experienced perinatologist; all he does is c-sections...so I guess if I have to have one, I couldn't find a better doctor to do it.

37 weeks: a major wrinkle (baby related) and major heartbreak (not baby related)

Officially, Bunting is 'full term' today.  If he was born today, he would more than likely be 100% healthy. Huzzah!

I. Wherein Our Tiny Hero Tests His Mother Even While In Utero
Baby Bunting, who was cozily in the proper position just two weeks ago (vertex, aka head down), has flipped, and is now breech (buttocks down).  So tomorrow (Monday, 11/30/09) we are going to flip him.  The technical term for this is an External Cephalic Version (more info here if you desire: http://www.webmd.com/baby/external-cephalic-version-version-for-breech-position ). Basically this involves manually rotating the baby from a breech to a vertex position.  I am an ideal candidate, and the risk of complications is low.  We'll see if Bunting cooperates. 


II.  Our Argos is Gone
On Thanksgiving Day, our beloved Chug (Chihuahua/Pug) dog Fanny died.  She had been failing for many weeks, and at age 15-ish (she was rescued from a puppy mill, her age was estimated at 4 when we adopted her from a rescue organization, but we have a sneaking suspicion that they underestimated her age to make her more adoptable) she was deaf, mostly blind, increasingly incontinent, and had lost most of her teeth. 


She was such a fantastic companion; all she ever wanted was to be with her people. She was a great traveller, the best car dog ever. 

Fanny in the car, somewhere in the Southwest, on our final road trip together. April 2009. 

In her final days, she no longer followed me from room to room, and when I retired at night instead of following me into the bedroom and curling up on her bed on the floor next to me, she remained wherever she was.  She was slowly separating from us, trying to ease us into not having her around anymore- but there is no easing. We are heartbroken.  I miss her so much.  I cannot stop weeping. (pregnancy hormones are not helping right now)

Argos waited 20 years for Odysseus to return, never believing that he was dead. When at long last he laid eyes on his master, his destiny of faith was fulfilled, and he laid down and died. 


Fanny was our loyal companion, our child substitute (at last count she had 6 beds, in our 1200 square foot house), our friend and entertainment.  She kept us company and was part of our family for over a decade, and stayed with us until we were on the cusp of a new life.  Her destiny was fulfilled, and so she died.

36 weeks. Oh. Mah. Gah.

This week I started training the woman who will cover for me while I am leave.  She is very nice, and very experienced, but it is emotionally trying for me to have her accompany me through the day.  Not only am I creature of habit, and used to doing things a certain way (I so relate to my spectrum kids in this regard), but I cannot help but feel a bit guilty for 'leaving' them, albeit temporarily.  Some of them have made such dramatic and impressive strides, and I don't want them to lose a single bit of progress.  I realize that this sounds a bit egotistical...but I have been with some of them since the very first day they began receiving services, and I know them and their personalities and quirks like the back of my hand. I simply cannot convey to her every single little (but important) thing to look out for, though I am trying.  At the same time, I don't want to overwhelm her with an avalanche of detail and minutiae. Oy.

Bunting is an active little thing, squirming and wiggling around all day long.  Periodically I look down and see various lumps and bumps protruding from my stomach, now that is bizarre.  And really amazing. But increasingly becoming old hat; I look down and think "Oh look. That is his foot. (stomach jiggles) How neat." As his energy level increases, mine decreases.  I continue to be blessedly free from aches and pains, but my need to nap has increased dramatically.  It gets dark so early now, and has been drizzly and cold, so I have begun using the elliptical at the gym instead of jog/walking on the trail.  I get some slightly panicked looks when I show up and hop on the machine; late evening seems to be the province of young men who lift weights; the sight of my waddling, gravid self seems to strike terror in their hearts. Devilishly, I  admit to greatly enjoying their reaction. Shamefully, I will also admit to enjoying the wide spectrum of TV choices offered.  We have not had cable for years, so the opportunity to watch Sarah Palin be interviewed by Barbara Walters or watch a documentary on Nixon or an MMA fight (the popularity of which I find even more perplexing than NASCAR) or a decade old rerun of "Frasier" is actually quite novel.

We had a checkup on Tuesday; weight gain continues to be healthy, blood pressure normal, urine is clear (free from sugar or protein), fundal height is appropriate. "This is not a small baby"- so sayeth the intern who measured and palpated me.  My sister and I were both close to 8 pounds and 21 inches long (and Mama was much tinier than I ), so this is no surprise. 

F has begun to have dreams about Bunting. Oh, I cannot wait to see him with his son.  Cannot. Wait.

Le Drop

Well, it is becoming increasingly apparent that I am going to have a baby, sooner rather than later. 


The latest evidence is that Bunting has 'dropped'.  Last night I felt some very strange shifting around, and began to feel him squirming much, much lower than I had previously- it feels like he is tucked behind my hip/pelvic bones. 


Today I woke up with my bump dramatically lower.  My shelf used to start right under my boobs; there is now a space there.  Yesterday, I could not see my bellybutton for love or money; today it is there, plain as day. My heartburn is gone. I can take a deep breath again. He also seems to be now positioned directly on top of my bladder. 


This development is exhilarating and terrifying. 
Both F and I would like to be able to hit the pause button right about now.