one week at home

Today marks the one-week anniversary of bringing Ruby home from the hospital. And what a week it's been -- there's been laughter, tears, joy, anxiety, peacefulness, despair, and just about every other feeling you can think of. Mostly, there's been relief that my mom's here to ease us into this new routine, and a whole lot of dark under-eye circles as we navigate the round-the-clock feedings and diaper changes. Wow. That part? Is hard work. I look forward to the day when hanging out in bed seems like a fun idea again. The good news is that sleep deprivation is a smidge less cruel when a face like this is the culprit:



To help celebrate Ruby's arrival, my dear friend Jenny sent us this awesome carrot cake (my fave!):


She ordered it from Two Fat Cats bakery, a place that can do no wrong in my book. Thanks again, Jenny...the sugar will definitely help fuel me through to the weekend!

In other news, I continue to heal pretty well and am feeling close to normal most days. Still a little sore where I got my incision, and my boobs have definitely felt better (they're VERY MUCH in demand these days), but still better than I thought I'd be doing. I'm not supposed to drive for another few days, and lifting anything heavier than Ruby is a no-no, so I'm trying to take it easy on myself. I get a little stir-crazy, though, so we've been working on small walks. Chris and I took Ruby out in her stroller on Sunday-- she was a bit fussy, so I ended up carrying her part of the way. Unfortunately, it seems I'm not immediately going to be one of those moms who handles it gracefully when her kid gets upset...I instantly felt awkward and wanted to soothe her before anyone could judge us. Dumb, I know, but bear in mind it was our very first foray into the wild world. I'll get better.

In fact, I got a bit better today -- yay for progress. I managed to get Ru into the babyhawk carrier, where she immediately fell fast asleep. This meant mobility AND free hands for me -- *such* a great feeling. If you're looking to wear your baby, I highly recommend this carrier. It worked SO WELL, at least for us. I see new worlds opening up for us.


(Please ignore the bags under the eyes. I'm just relieved that my pregnant-lady swelling has mostly gone...one vanity issue at a time!) We walked around the neighborhood for a good half-hour, which definitely helped me feel more human. I'm kind of dreading when winter sets in, but for now the fall weather is lovely and I'm SO thankful we can get outside for a little bit.

Oh, and for anyone wondering how the cats are adjusting to our new resident, they've so far been really chill. Stewie sometimes vacates the premises when Ruby starts crying, but for the most part they're both around as much as usual -- Stewie's even been sleeping with us again for the past couple nights. Lulu never sleeps with us anyway, but she HAS been snuggling up with my mom all week on the fold-out couch. I think it's safe to say we're all going to be out of sorts when my mom leaves on Thursday. But Chris and I think the cats had some bonding time while we were staying in the hospital for a few nights, because they seem to be a bit closer than they were before Ruby came home. Witness the snugglebugs:


So, to summarize: we're all adjusting, we're all tired, and we're all snuggling as much as possible. It's good to be a family.

ruby!

Most of you know this already, but it bears repeating: our daughter Ruby was born on Saturday, Nov. 7, 2009, at 2:50 pm. She weighed in at 7 lbs, 3 oz, and measured 20 inches long. I'm biased, of course, but it seems pretty obvious to me already that she's perfect and funny and capable of making faces that will melt even the coldest, blackest heart.


Boy Chris thinks she looks a bit simple in this picture, but I love it. I think she looks like the world's cutest mind reader.

I'll post more about the labor/birth story at a later date, maybe -- I'm still processing all of it, to be honest, which became really obvious yesterday when I was looking through the pictures the doula took and could barely keep from losing my shit. Ruby's birth was . . . how to put this? Pretty much the opposite of what I had hoped for. It was crazy long and full of unexpected turns, and ultimately resulted in a C-section -- the outcome I most wanted to avoid. But it turns out that of all those cliches people tell you about having kids, one of the most true (at least for me, so far) is that ultimately it doesn't matter how your baby gets here, only that he or she arrives safe and healthy. And she did, so -- as with nearly every other aspect of parenting I've come across in my six days as a mama -- I'm learning to embrace the "by any means necessary" mindset.


And I want to put it out here for, like, the hundredth time: I married so well, it's ridiculous. Chris was far and away the best birth partner I could have ever asked for, and believe me when I tell you he had many, many hours to prove his mettle. He stayed right with me, helped me get through the initial excitement that turned to discomfort that turned to disappointment and sadness and, eventually, total joy. He knew how much I'd wanted, and worked toward, a natural childbirth, and I sometimes wonder if he was maybe even more upset than I was when the direction of our labor process became clear. I know I mentioned a recent moment that made me appreciate the amazing person he is, but Chris's support and concern and total love for me (and little Ruby) just overwhelmed me during this last week. And that's all I'll say about that, because the waterworks are starting again (good lord, the hormones...).

Anyway, the recovery process has been going well, and I feel much better physically than I anticipated at this point. My mom arrived Wednesday night and is here for a week to help out, which has been huge.


She's holding Ruby now, so I have free hands to type and eat breakfast...two things that are much more challenging with a teeny person attached to your breast at all hours of the day and night. We're getting the hang of breastfeeding, diapering, and petting the cats with any leftover hands, all cloaked in a haze of sleep deprivation and sweet baby smells. I bounce back and forth a lot between feeling totally confident that we're rocking this parenting thing, and feeling overwhelmed and unsure of anything I'm doing, but I hear that's normal. And right now, normal seems like a good goal to aim for. I'm excited for the weekend, when Chris and my mom and Ruby and the cats and I can all hang out and get used to one another, without pesky things like work and appointments getting in the way. The days are sort of a blur at this point, but I'm trying to make sure I don't miss anything. I can't believe this tiny human being is ours -- we made her, and we get to keep her. All that wine I missed out on since March? SO worth it.

one black sheep for the baby; one set of laws for everyone

We're in full-on nesting mode here, I think. Chris spent a good chunk of Sunday getting rid of the gross old brass light fixture that was hanging in the baby's room and replaced it with a lovely white ceiling fan/light combo.

Looks great! And even though some of you are probably wondering what use we could have for a ceiling fan in Maine, let me assure you that we get some very warm days in the summertime. I don't know many New Englanders with air conditioning in their homes, so fans are a true necessity. Chris and I are completely and embarrassingly devoted to the one in our own bedroom, for what it's worth.

Speaking of bedrooms, I think we're pretty much done with little chris's future room. You've already seen the basics, so here are the corners that didn't easily fit into the first round of pictures:

I've mentioned that the room's teeny tiny, right? Like, hobbit-sized. No joke. So we're just going to have to do our best with what we've got, which means shelving is a must. Here's one of our bookshelves painted white and serving as "holder of many baskets." It's a far cry from its past duty -- shelving the paper- and hardback copies of serious lit-ra-ture Chris and I are so fond of -- but we'll survive the change. The sacrificing has begun.


Above is our Craigslist-scored changing table/dresser contraption, painted white and ready to face an onslaught of baby bodily functions. Gulp.


And here's the sweet mobile I found -- apparently babies are intrigued by high contrasts, so black and white items are fun for them to look at. This sheep mobile should do quite nicely, I think. (But just one black sheep? I feel a little sad for the outnumbered guy.)

Anyway, the house is likely as ready as it's going to get at this point, seeing as the work we did this weekend left me nearly comatose and in need of at least one nap per day. I've reached the part of the third trimester that looks a whole lot like the first trimester all over again -- lots of fatigue, aching back, weird stabby pains I can't quite identify. I know this means my body's getting ready to do what it needs to do, so that's good news. I just hope I can stay awake long enough to meet my own child.

*****

And in news that's really only related to any of this by the fact that Election Day is TOMORROW, the other main thing occupying my brain space is the "No on 1" campaign here in Maine. There was a rally in Monument Square around lunchtime today, and I managed to catch about half of it. A good crowd showed up, as did the campaign managers and volunteers, as well as several of the Mainers who "star" in the commercials that have aired nearly non-stop for weeks on end now. There are so many strong feelings around this issue, and this election, and all that's left to do at this point is cross every finger and toe that tomorrow's results don't take away the rights that have already been granted to homosexual couples here. Granted, I've only lived here for a year and four months, but it seems to me that a huge part of the Maine mentality is "live and let live" -- you do your thing, I'll do mine, and we don't necessarily have to like what anyone else is up to but ultimately it's none of our business anyway. So, here's hoping we come through tomorrow night on the right side of history. And whatever happens, don't forget to vote! You lose any and all right to complain about the results if you're not participating. Just saying.

you take the good, you take the bad

I got a new bracelet this weekend:

This lovely piece was procured at Maine Medical Center, where Chris and I will (soon?) welcome our child into the world. We made an unscheduled trip there on Saturday night after I gracefully toppled down our basement stairs on my way to retrieve a load of laundry. I lost my footing and landed on my back, and then bumped down the next few stairs, where Chris found me sitting a few scary seconds later. I was so incredibly relieved that I hadn't fallen forward and hit my belly that I originally thought I'd just continue on with my evening (our exciting plans: eating lasagna and watching DVDs). But as I finished making dinner, I started to get really nervous. What if the impact had somehow hurt the baby? I hit my back pretty hard; even though I know babies are incredibly well padded in the uterus, I couldn't shut up the worried voice in my head. So I called my doctor's after-hours number and was thrilled to find out that my midwife was the one on call. She told me they like to have women come in for monitoring after a fall (which, it turns out, is more common than I thought...seems a whole bunch of us take a tumble when we can no longer see our own feet). So, Chris and I spent four hours in Labor & Delivery triage that night, with me hooked up to a monitor to track the baby's heartbeat (which looked great) as well as any contractions I was having -- that part was *fascinating.* Apparently, mine were pretty steady, even though I felt nothing. It certainly wasn't my first choice for how to spend Saturday night (though, as Chris said, it was the first time we made it through an entire episode of Saturday Night Live in forever. Side note: not worth it), but in a weird way it was nice to get our Maine Med bearings, and the nurses were awesome. The one who told me I was having regular contractions sent us on our way by saying "Maybe we'll see you back here next weekend!" Yoinks.

*****

Anyway, with that little scare out of the way, we got to spend some time with Doug & Ro on Sunday. They drove up for the afternoon, and we had a lovely day getting some lunch and then seeing Paranormal Activity. The movie was pretty good, though the overall consensus (except for Boy Chris, I think?) was that the Blair Witch Project did the same sort of thing a bit better. Most important, it didn't frighten me into labor. Little chris barely made a peep the whole time we were watching. My girl doesn't scare easily.

*****

Yesterday I had another midwife appointment, where I enjoyed (ha) my first pelvic exam...and hopefully my last. Good god. For the uninitiated, this is where the doctor checks you to see how much (if at all) you're dilated or effaced, and it's like a pap smear times ten, discomfort-wise. Or at least it was for me. I mean, I'm all for knowing if I'm making any progress down there -- or I thought I was, anyway -- but I don't know if I want to do that again. I think my midwife is pretty casual about it (she didn't do one at my previous appointment and only mentioned doing it this time to make sure everything was OK after my fall over the weekend), so I think I'll play this part by ear from here on out. I'm just not sure it's worth it.

The other unenjoyable part of the appointment was finding out that I tested positive for Group B Strep. Apparently this poses no threat to me, but as a carrier I can pass it on to the baby, who could get very sick as a result. I guess it's a pretty common thing -- about 30% of pregnant women test positive for it, according to the nurse -- but I've got to admit I'm really bummed about this. It means I'll need to be given antibiotics during labor to protect the baby, which, of course, I'm all for. The protecting part, that is. The IV of meds? Not so much. Obviously I've never done this before, so I have no idea what I'm in for when it comes to actual childbirth, but the picture in my head never involved being hooked up to an IV every 4 hours or so. My midwife assured me that I'll still be able to move about the room and halls freely, and that I can still use the jacuzzi tub, shower, birth ball, etc., and I'm trying to believe her. But it still sort of sucks. Oh, and I'm allergic to penicillin, which adds another layer of complication to the whole deal. There are apparently a couple other antibiotics they can use instead, but the whole thing just feels like a headache I'd really rather not deal with. I know, as Chris reminded me, that in the grand scheme of things that can potentially go wrong with a pregnancy, this is small potatoes. But coming so close to the end, when I'm trying to be as relaxed and confident as possible, it just bugs me that there's this new obstacle to bear in mind. Hopefully in a couple days I'll forget all about it and move on to the next urgent thing to occupy space in my mind.

*****

I don't want to end this on a down note, so I thought I'd add that this week's Mad Men episode restored my faith in television. Also, I tried out a new (to me) recipe for pumpkin cranberry bread that is one of my favorite things I've baked in a long time. So, if you're as pumpkin happy as I am, go forth and bake. It's SO good.

full term!

Just a quick drive-by post to upload this shot we took this week -- 37 weeks and counting. I'm sleeping better and feeling good. Let's keep this up! Also, I'm 99% sure we've decided on a name. (But we're keeping it to ourselves, in case we change our minds...you understand.) These are exciting times.

Happy weekend!

a room of one's own

Before I write this, I want to say that I tried really hard to think up a post topic that wasn't pregnancy related, because I realize how old that subject can get if you're not either the person carrying the baby or her expectant partner (or perhaps a grandparent-to-be...hi mom!). But let's face it: this is what I'm doing at the moment. I reach full-term this week, meaning the baby can safely make an appearance at any point after Thursday and her tiny body would most likely be prepared to face the world (healthily). Which pleases me. But the very idea that she could make her entrance anytime now is also a VERY powerful distraction. (Of course, having written that, I realize I've just doomed myself to being pregnant until 42 weeks...) So, all this is to say that if you came here for a lengthy diatribe about health care or my insightful thoughts on Balloon Boy's horrifying excuse for a father, I'm unable to provide such content for the time being.

And probably for a while after that, if the rumors are true. (Apparently, babies have a way of being sort of all-consuming when they arrive.)

So, yeah. Nesting, making more lists, finishing books, playing CDs of babies crying to get the cats used to the sound (they're doing better than I am with the CDs -- is that a bad sign?), cooking and freezing food, pretending the house isn't a total pigsty. It's been busy around these parts! But holy cow, are we getting excited. Try as I might, I can't wrap my head around the fact that our daughter will be here -- in the flesh -- in a few weeks' time. Unreal. So fabulous.

Although we've yet to finish getting her room ready, here's some early-stage pics of where she'll (eventually) rest her teeny head:


Chris hung the Etsy prints above her crib this weekend. We've also got a mobile to hang, once we find the right spot for it. In the left-hand corner, you can see the edge of a leopard-spotted, velour cat bed (we like to keep it classy) perched on a TV dinner tray (again with the classy), which sits right by the one window in the room. This is Stewie's favorite spot, so we're leaving it intact until little chris actually starts sleeping in her room. We're awfully good to that cat. Especially because the room is approximately 36 square feet, so every single inch of space is valuable.


Here are three (!) handmade blankets just waiting for a chance to swaddle. The yellow one was made by a friend of Chris's family, the white one was made by his grandmother for one of her own children years ago, and the brown one's my contribution. My mom told me yesterday that there's another blanket on the way, courtesy of a woman who knows my grandmother (but has never met us...so generous!). If you know even the least bit about the Maine winter, you understand why it's so reassuring to have a collection of warm blankets all ready to go. These are a necessity.


And here's the banner that hangs above the changing table/dresser. I saw this on Etsy a couple years ago and thought it was so sweet, but I never could find the right occasion to justify buying it. So, when I found out I was pregnant, this was one of the first baby-related purchases I made. It's sewn from vintage fabrics and looks great in the yellow room. More important, the sentiment is just right. This pretty much sums up how Chris and I are feeling about the person we're about to meet. Well, this, and a healthy dose of "HOLY SHIT!" mixed in there as well. But that seemed like an inappropriate banner for a baby's room. We'll save that one for when she hits her teenage years. (Gulp.)

pluses & minuses: third trimester edition

The good:

+ Women are awesome. Older women, in particular, and those wrangling little ankle-biters of their own, are generally warm and smiley and say nice things when they see me lumbering by. These days, I feel a little bit like I'm about to be initiated into a club. One with high membership fees, mind you, but I suspect it'll be worth it.
+ Scarves help downplay the hugeness of my belly (how does it keep getting bigger??). I love you, fall.
+ Boy Chris can pretty consistently locate our little girl's feet when they're wedged up near my ribs. There's not much that's cooler (well, right now, anyway) than watching your partner give a foot massage to your kid in utero.
+ Still not tired of people calling me "mama."
+ I have a foolproof excuse to retire to bed at any hour, no matter how embarrassingly early. Mostly I just like to read in there, but still.
+ Speaking of reading, something about being this far along is (somewhat counterintuitively?) easing my compulsion to read about pregnancy and childbirth at all times, so I've been returning to the lovely escape provided by fiction. Currently reading: American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld; it's better than I anticipated (didn't this get lukewarm reviews when it came out?), though nowhere near as engrossing as her book Prep. Still: my brain appreciates the distraction.
+ The No on 1 campaign is only picking up steam here in Maine, and today Senator Snowe crossed party lines to help move forward the possibility of health care reform. These aren't necessarily pregnancy-related, I know, but both movements would only improve the state of the world we live in. Which, when you think about it, has everything to do with adding a new little person to the population. Nothing would make me prouder than to have a kid here just as the people of Maine (pleaseohpleaseohplease) head to the polls to protect marriage equality for everybody.


The not-as-good:

- My mind is all over the place, and not always in a productive way. This makes little tasks -- like, oh, doing my job or returning phone calls in a timely manner -- all the more challenging. I need to focus.
- Heartburn sucks.
- So do swollen feet...I'm down to about two pairs of shoes that need to see me through the next four weeks. Please, whoever is in charge of these things, let my feet return to their normal size when this is all over.
- Coffee no longer tastes good. This seems especially cruel.
- Just as I've started to fantasize about returning to the hot tub this winter, when I'll no longer be gestating, the tub refuses to turn on. You know what we *don't* need to be spending money on right now? This.
- I've woken myself up with my own snoring a few times in the past couple weeks, and now I'm starting to feel self-conscious about it. Also see: not great for the old self-esteem.
- An overload of H1N1 vaccine-related news and a barrage of conflicting information -- can I just live out this next month in a plastic bubble? Thanks.