Political Correctness - Soiled Diaper Edition

Max and I are still working on the breastfeeding. He isn't transferring milk when I put him to breast, so I am pumping and supplementing with formula. Yesterday, I went to the breastfeeding support group sponsored by my lactation consultant.

I like the lactation consultant, but I've found that a lot of the breast feeding gurus I've come in contact with are, well, I'm not sure what, but I can say they just don't get me. I'm willing to take the blame here, that I have a bit of an odd personality. Toward the end of the group meeting yesterday, Max soiled his diaper. I began cajoling him for it, telling him he was stinky. I was saying it in a very loving way, but one of the group assistants turned to me and said, "He's not stinky, he's not stinky." I was shamed, shamed for calling my baby stinky. Ahhhh.

I told J about it last night and now that a little bit of time has passed, I can laugh over the fact that I was upset by it, actually, J made me laugh hysterically over it this morning.

Max: (in his rocker) Grunt. Whine. Grunt.

Karen: Just a second boo ...

J: What's the matter stinky?

Karen: He's not stinky.

J: OK, he's not stinky. He's differently smelling.

"Let's do the time warp again."

Yesterday was Max's one week birthday. Happy Birthday Max! To celebrate his Birthday, Max got dressed up in a snazzy little onesie and sat for a short photo shoot.




Everyone in our little family is doing well, though Mom and Dad are a bit sleepy from the late night feedings and pumping sessions. Max, however, is getting lots and lots of sleep. Time, for the most part, is going by very quickly. One second it's 4 p.m., the next time you look up at the clock it's 10 p.m. and your wondering how it got to be so late? J and I have begun referring to it has the "Baby Time Warp." One very interesting thing about the Baby Time Warp is that time goes by exceptionally fast unless it's one of my 15 minute pumping sessions. Then time goes by v e r y v e r y s l o w l y.

Max and I have developed a little thing we like to do each feeding. When he's finished with his meal, I dab the sides of his mouth and say, "Monsieur, a wafer-thin mint. I couldn't eat another thing. I'm absolutely stuffed. Oh sir, just ... just one ... all right. Just one." And then I giggle. It just never gets old to me.

Introducing -- Me! Guest post by Max Theodore

I was born on my due date, 3/4, at 4:34 a.m.. Pretty awesome stats. I was 21 inches, and weighed 7lbs 1 oz.

My Mom's contractions started at 7:30 a.m. on Tuesday (3/3). She kept her 10 a.m. doctor appointment where they did an u/s and said everything looked good, but they didn't do an internal. They didn't do an internal at any of her prenatal appointments. I think her doctor didn't believe her contractions were real. He even scheduled an induction for this Monday if I wasn't born by then.

Mom stayed home from work the rest of the day with contractions. Dad went to his office and came home at around six that night. Mom showered a few times during the day which totally made her contractions less painful. She began timing them in earnest at 7:20 p.m. and was having contractions every 3-5 minutes. At 8:30, she called Labor and Delivery. They told her to call back if they went on another hour. They continued every 3-5 minutes so at 9:30 she called back and was told to come in.

Mom and Dad got to the hospital at just after 10 p.m. The first thing the doctor did was an ultrasound. Mom still had plenty of amniotic fluid and I still looked great. The resident checking Mom said she'd see how far dilated she was, and if she wasn't very far, she could walk around a few hours and come back. Turns out Mom was already 6 cm. The resident asked her what her pain management plan was and she told her originally she wanted to have a natural birth but changed her mind and wanted all the drugs they could give her as soon as possible. The resident liked that plan, paged anesthesiology, and the nurse took her blood platelets. After that, the nurse she spoke to on the phone came in to meet her and tell Mom she was glad she had her come in and that she almost didn't because Mom sounded too good on the phone to be 6 cms. I'm glad she had her come in, too. Mom told the nurse that she tries to stay cheerful most of the time. I hope this is true.

Unfortunately, there were two emergency C sections being performed and the anesthesiologist wasn't available. Mom was 8 cm and contracting pretty hard when he finally got to our room. They tried 4 times, including with an u/s machine but couldn't get her epidural to work, and it hurt the whole time they tried even with the local anesthesia. She told them that was it, she couldn't go through them trying again. Three different doctors came to make sure she didn't want them to try to fix it but she just couldn't go through it with the painful contractions she was having. Of course, at that point, they hadn't broken her water and she didn't understand how much more it would hurt.

The doctor broke her water and for another hour she was in the worst pain she's ever known or imagined. She broke down and paged the nurse telling her she felt pressure all the time (she hoped it was time to push). Another resident checked her and she was 9 cm. She had to get to 10 and even when she got there, they said she'd probably still have to contract at 10 cm for an hour to reduce pushing time. A little less than hour went buy and she paged them and said, "I can't not push with the contractions, I can't not push, I just can't." She couldn't, it was impossible to shut off the instinct no matter how much she tried and it hurt so badly.

So they checked and she was 10 cm. She pushed for 40 minutes and out came me - baby Max. The pain was totally manageable once she could push, but actually having me out of her was the best thing ever. Unfortunately, Dad isn't going to let her live it down that when they placed me on her right after I was born she said, "Oh, little Maxie Pad." I realize that she calls me this lovingly, but it's not nice to make fun within seconds of my birth. Also, at one point, when the resident had his hands up in her and was pushing on her uterus to firm it up and stop blood flow, get out some clots, etc., she said the F word. Such a potty mouth. But the doctors laughed and said, "No worries, whatever you need to get through it." They also stitched her up because despite lubing my head before the final pushing, I did make her tear a little bit. She's not sure how much because they didn't say and she's too afraid to look.

Mom and Dad agree that one of the best parts of the whole thing was the nurse giving Mom a cup of ice chips and on about the fourth set of pushing, the nurse asked Mom if she wanted some more ice chips. Mom said, "No, I don't want it in my mouth, I'm afraid I might swallow." Mom couldn't believe what she had said and looked at Dad with this did you hear what I just said look. It took Dad a second to figure it out, and then he actually responded with, "That's what she said." The nurse was all, "I see you watch The Office." My parents are so embarassing!

We left the hospital the day after I was born. Things are good though breast feeding has not been going well. Today, Mom and Dad broke down and gave me some formula and for now I'm the happiest baby ever. Mom has an appointment tomorrow with a consultant and hopefully she and I will figure this stuff out.

Here are a few pics and a video of me on my first night home (it's really long (they made it for my PA Grandma), it's also sideways because my parents are not very smart).Me and Mom

On the way to my first pediatric appointment.

Troubleshooting the server with Dad.

Jazz Hands

I’ll be 39 weeks in a little less than 12 hours. At this point, Max’s movements feel more like pushing and a lot less like kicking or even squirming - it’s getting crowded in there. I haven’t felt any contractions. I don’t think I’ve even felt a Braxton Hicks contraction. Strange. Occasionally, I’ll feel something in my lower abdomen that I like to refer to as his jazz hands, though I think the more accurate term is spirit fingers.

My intuition tells me that I won’t go into labor before my due date. Nurse Lupe asked me if I thought I’d be seeing her next week and I when I told her yes, I definitely thought I would, she agreed.

My doctor has started calling me his easy patient. As it turned out, I didn’t need to be seen by a perinatologist, but it’s certainly been nice knowing I was in expert hands. Usually, he asks if I have any questions, and I generally don’t have any questions for him (thank you internets), but today I did ask how far past my due date he would let me go. He looked at my chart, paused, and then said, “Six months.” Ha ha doctor, very funny. He then said he didn’t like people to go too far past their date and if I made it to next week’s Tuesday appointment, he’d probably schedule an induction for Thursday or Friday of that week.

I knew I’d be having this baby soon, but it’s still a bit surreal knowing it’s pretty much a sure thing that J and I will be parents in two weekends.

Brown-Bagging

J: (After attending a luncheon earlier in the day) I ate the lunch you made me for dinner. Why are those lunches so tasty?

Me: Because they're made with love?

J: Yes, that's it. It must be the love.

Comparisons

MAX AT 37 WEEKS




















Me: Everything went fine at the appointment. They gave me blob like ultrasound picture of his face, he looks like an old man.

J: Like Winston Churchill? All babies look like Winston Churchill.


















Me: No, no. More like Henry Kissinger.

It's the end of the world as we know it.

J is a patent attorney and his area of patent specialty is software and wireless communications. J is one of those rare people that actually has degrees not only in the areas in which he is practicing, but also in areas he enjoys. His undergraduate degree included a computer science component (with physics), and his Masters degree is in Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning. Before studying law, he worked for a few large computer and wireless communication companies.

What this translates to for our relationship purposes is that much of his free time is spent on his laptop researching the latest technologies. These are not cheap items he is interested in, fortunately, he normally researches something so thoroughly that by the time he is finished and is ready to purchase, a new and improved item has been released, which he then must research and so on. Every now and again, though, he finishes his research before the next generation is available and, well, I always tell him we don’t need it or can’t afford it, but that never seems to work.

Today he ordered a Kindle and is very excited for it’s arrival. When he told me about the purchase, I told him that he should not have bought it, that we can’t afford it. He justified his actions by saying we could now cancel a good portion of our cable subscription to recoup the cost as he would be reading more and watching less TV. I told him that was great, but what was I going to do?

According to J, canceling the cable is a fine solution because I’ll have a baby and won’t be reading or watching TV ever again.

When Your Baby Daddy is Nerd Boy

When I first met J, I teased him incessantly about being a nerd. I couldn’t help myself. He came to class in wool slacks and button down shirt, he drove the most pristine Audi I’d ever seen, he was a big fan of Kevin Sorbo (of Hercules and Andromeda fame), he was working on getting his third degree, made law review the first semester ... I challenge anyone to refrain from teasing when there is that much material!

After we got to know each other a little better, I started referring to him as Nerd Boy. When he asked if that was his super hero name and I said yes, he responded that since super hero names are often based on one’s super human talent, I should hence forth be known as The Exasperater.

Fortunately for J, although he might not agree, I’ve always found nerds kind of hot and it wasn’t long before I realized I’d be a fool not to force my company upon him and insist that he not only like me, but love me, marry me, support me, and impregnate me.

Though I tell everyone that will listen, mostly young, unmarried girls, that nerds make the best husbands, it doesn’t mean they don’t have a few drawbacks. For instance, I suggested to J that Max needs a book case for his room, because little kids like stories and picture books and every little kid I’ve ever known has had lots of books. But J doesn’t think it’s necessary. Why? Because by the time Max is looking at books, he’ll have a Kindle. A Kindle?!?!?! Sigh.

Special Requests, Part II

J: That dream job in Japan is still available.
Me: Fine, you can take it as long as Max and I can stay here and you support us.
J: Ok
Me: And I'm not talking like you divorce us but still support us, we stay married. And you have to be faithful.
J: Well, if you're going to put all these conditions on it ...

Special Requests

Me: *surprised sound*
J: What, what just happened, did your water break?
Me: No, don't be silly.
J: When it does break, could you make sure your standing over the tile and not the carpet?

His head is down, his heart is turning around ...

I had an u/s at today's doctor's appointment to check to make sure my fluids looked good. I was told everything looked great and that Max's head is down, apparently he's not yet as big a procrastinator as his Mom and Dad.

Ever since the u/s tech announced Max's head was down, I've had the song, Jamaica Farewell, stuck in my head. My Dad used to sing this to us all the time when I was growing up. Ahh the memories ....

A Different Outlook

Despite the occasional nausea, the daily indigestion, the debilitating and painful carpal tunnel, the nightly insomnia, and the constant feeling that I’m going to pee my pants, I’ve felt pretty good the last several months. So good that I kind of wanted to be pregnant forever. Now that I know I can get pregnant and I will have a baby, what’s the rush? Actually having the baby just means more work and less sleep, right?

Well, today, for a short moment, instead of getting a little bit freaked out--okay, fine--instead of thinking, “HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I GONE AND DONE,” I thought, “You know, I can do this. This is gonna be fun.”

Observations

J: Did you buy hummus at the Middle Eastern market?

Me: What?

J: I saw hummus in the fridge, did you buy that?

Me: Oh, yeah, I did.

J: When?

Me: When A and his girlfriend came over to watch the game.

J: Why?

Me: Because they're skinny. Skinny people like hummus.

Goodbye Christmas

I love Christmas, especially the decorations. I'm not hugely talented at decorating, but I'm a big fan of HGTV and like to try my hand at something new every now and then. Of course, now that it's time to pack everything away, I'm thinking maybe not decorating would have been okay.

This year, I tried something new with the kitchen ceiling by hanging glass ornaments from it. I used the 3m temporary hooks so I didn't have to worry about putting holes in the dry wall, strung some iridescent beads on clear beading nylon and then tied the balls to the end. I'm thinking now that some colorful ribbon might have been prettier, and I really need some turquoise thrown in, but I wasn't wholly unhappy with the outcome.

Below are a few pics from this year's holiday decorating endeavors. I'm looking for a blue velvet stocking for Max that matches the ones I currently have, along with an at least coordinating stocking hanger. A train would be nice. If you come across something you think would work, please let me know.

I hope you all have a glorious 2009!