Bite Me

Allison Clare to Gillian: The baby is hungry so Mommy is feeding him.
Gillian, sweetly, after a closer look at the nursing process: Mom, is he eating you?

Hospital Sketches

As has been broadcast far and wide via Facebook and a campus email, he's here!  Baby Joshua (Samuel Joshua Fee) was born at 6:12 pm yesterday after a long, lazy, easy labor.  After a night of regular contractions, Sam and I woke Miss Diane (a/k/a Saint Diane) at 6:00 a.m. yesterday, and when she arrived at the house to take care of the girls, we drove over to the hospital.  Gillian was still asleep at that point, but AC had awakened and come downstairs in her little footed pjs.  When we told her that the baby was probably coming, she was really moved.  She ran over to me, kissed my stomach, and said sweetly and almost tearfully, "Congratulations, Mommy!"

They had a fun day playing and going to the park, and after having thought we should get to the hospital in case things happened fast, Sam and I actually had a really relaxing day.  I had the epidural, which may have slowed the labor down a bit, but that was fine--we read and napped off and on all day.  Apart from the occasional random person probing my cervix and the lack of food, it was much like a vacation.  It was, in fact, one of the most relaxing days I've had since we left the vacation house in Flagstaff two years ago. 

Eventually, I felt some discomfort through the epidural, which was the signal that it was time to push, and after a few pushes, our sweet boy entered the world in less than 12 minutes.  He was not happy at first, squealing and squalling, but when placed on my chest and patted, he settled down.  More angry squalls when he was lifted away to get wiped up and have a needle stick and eye drops put in, but he calmed down right away when brought back.  He looked around warily and seemed to be trying to figure out whom he could trust.  "I trust her . . . and this nipple," he seemed to say to himself, "but no one else."

We got settled into our room while he had his bath (the nurse reported that he did not enjoy it).  He roomed in with me for most of the night because I was intending to give him a feeding before I sent him back to the nursery, but he kept falling asleep before he could eat.  He also was coughing up some mucus and choking on it periodically, so we were both up a lot, but he mainly seems like a pretty calm little guy.  Wary. Likes to be cuddled.  Exactly like his dad in these respects.

Sam brought the girls in for a visit in the late morning, bearing doughnuts for all.  They were really excited, Allison Clare still moved and a little teary.  She has this new habit of holding her nose when she feels an overflow of emotion to stop herself from crying, and she was holding her nose, a little overcome when she saw him, and also telling me that she missed me.  Gillian was filled with sweet wonder, whispering: "He's so tiny . . . he can't even walk yet!  He can just lay in his blanket in his bed!" She wanted to be picked up to get a closer look.  He was asleep, so she asked, "Mom, what does his eyes look like?"  She adores him.  They both asked, "Can I touch him very gently?" and put their little fingers out to tap on his blanket or his cheek.  Sam and I looked at each other and one of us said, "It really feels like our family is complete" and the other said, "In a way it never did before."  I can't believe we ever even considered not having a third. :)

Ready, Set, Don't Come Yet

As of today, I think I can say that we are ready for Mr. Wiggles.  My hospital bag is assembled, the baby clothes and bedding are prepped, and Sam has squeezed three carseats into the rear of the Outback. This last feat required two attempts and a lot of shoving and finessing, though less beer and swearing than past such events due to his by-now master status.  The seats are wedged in there so tightly that they actually overlap, but the doors close (!); as we each leaned into the car through the front doors, heads together, and peered into the back, Sam said abashedly, "Man, that's a lot of people."

I think that somehow having all of the "stuff" together is a way of addressing the feeling that there are so many unknowns about the logistics of his arrival. Though I'm not as worried about the actual labor itself, scenarios I've been planning for include the following:

• if AC is at school, we need to call someone with a carseat (who that lucky duck is will depend on the day) and remember to call the school to give them that person's name
• if I'm at school myself, I should not drive to the hospital in case the labor suddenly gets hard and fast as both of mine have done in the past, so I need to call Sam
• if I'm home alone with the girls, I put them both in Gillian's crib with the iPads, unlock the front door, and call Sam and/or 911.  

It sounds crazy, I know--it probably is crazy--but Dr. B has warned me that I might have a super fast labor (like 30 minutes fast), and since I'm teaching through the birth, our schedule for every day is different and will require a different plan.  I'm weirdly excited by the challenge of it, and all of this makes me kind of want to just have him already, though I know that every day he holds off is not only very important for him, but also one day we don't have to juggle a brand newborn and my classes.

In spite of the material preparations, I'm not actually expecting this little one to make his appearance quite yet.  The girls were both born at 38 weeks and a few days, and I've just completed 36 weeks.  But I've had the thought that maybe he will be earlier because boys tend to be bigger, so maybe he'll be crowded and want out--better to be prepared.  When Sam got back from a 3-day work trip yesterday, he commented, "Wow--when I left, you were pregnant, but now you're . . . well, it's clearly the last month."  Again due to his master status, he caught himself before using any words as indelibly regrettable as huge, enormous, whale-like.