Where have I been?

I can't believe how long it's been since my last entry. Sebastian is almost eight months old. My hours in the evening when he's asleep are the uninterrupted time I have to read or watch a show or take a bath. Writing in the blog seems to fall pretty low on the list. Which is a shame.

This is going to be short this time. At least I wrote a bit. It's just, at this moment in life, I'd rather read someone else than write about what's up with me. Even though some cool stuff is happening. The current story is going well, although a writing group member told me to hurry up and finish it (so she could find out what happens) and I'm only on page sixty. If it's novel-length there's a whole lot more to go. That's okay. I'm glad she cares what's next.

I'll check in again soon.

Babies of the World, Unite!

There were seven babies here today! Our first play date went wonderfully. There were eight couples in our Bradley Birthing Class and seven of the moms and babies were able to make it today. Also, it's a beautiful, sunny day and not 100 degrees so it's the good side of Texas weather. We've made it to the other side of summer.

Some moms had to leave early but we got pictures of five of the babies sitting up together on the couch. So adorable. They're all so cute. There are three boys, including Sebastian, and five girls, including Kate who wasn't here today. We're hoping to meet every two weeks so I think it's going to be great. I'm glad my cousin Laura told me to reach out to other moms at the beginning.

Sebastian looks long (or is it tall) compared to the other babies. I think he also has the pouffiest hair! The youngest of them is two months old today. I think all but one were born in July.

We had a very busy weekend, with a baby shower on Saturday thrown by Georgia, Collene, and Sherry, and a going-away party for Harriet Saturday evening. Sebastian was fussy at the beginning of the shower, uncharacteristically so, but he settled down after he ate. Then everyone got to hold him and he was smiley.

Today he seems recovered from whatever he was going through for a few days. For about four days he was sort of languid and less perky than usual. Today he seems back to his old self.

I think the more of a pattern there is to our lives, with meetings like the play group and starting writing group again, the better it will be for us. I'm learning to love routine. I lived by a regular routine in Vermont last year and felt very fit in every way. I think it agrees with me.

Next Friday William's niece Destiny comes for a visit, which will be nice. With three younger brothers, she probably knows more about babies than I do! We'll have fun.

Get Well Soon, James!

Concerned for James, our friends Shannon and Blue's son who is in the hospital with a staph infection. He's having breathing problems. They were all here a couple of weeks ago for a swim party. Even though James is in a wheelchair for now he can swim like a fish. William and I both thinking of him and wishing him a speedy recovery.

The Portable Baby

Took Sebastian around with me today as I went to two doctor appointments. He behaved so well. Slept in the waiting room while I was filling out paperwork, calmed down with his pacifier when he got a bit fussy, rode well in the car, and when there was no time to feed him between appointments he hung in there until we could get home. We both took long naps later. It's fun to take him out and do things. I changed him on an exam table after one appointment, and he looked up at the ceiling like, "Hmm. I've never seen this one before." A connoisseur of ceilings.

He's getting so big and brawny his shoulders are snug in his car seat now. A burly two-month-old.

I had the strange sensation looking at him yesterday as he sat up looking around at things that I was looking at myself as a child. Something about his expression reminded me of me, which took me by surprise for some weird reason. I didn't expect that.

The September Issue

I saw The September Issue, a documentary about the production of the big fall issue of Vogue in 2007. To see behind the scenes of a magazine which is the arbiter and institution of fashion: the clothes, my God the clothes. Deeper, richer colors than gems, textures you want to swoon into, great art in three dimensions moving through space draped on the body of a beautiful woman. For the first time I felt like I really got it, seeing a glimpse of the alter people sacrifice their careers and back accounts upon. High fashion is art. Art that makes you feel and long for something indefinable, somehow encapsulated in things. And when someone with a brilliant eye puts it all together it's magical. The yin and yang of Vogue, embodied in the two women who drive the magazine, Grace Coddington and Anna Wintour. Women with great power, whose decisions, commercial and artistic choices begin and end careers, selling billions of dollars worth of merchandise through a trickle-down effect of influence.

Seeing behind the scenes it's at once more and less glamorous than one might think. Trips abroad, private cars, seats at the front. But not everyone who works there is a fashion plate; they're not all young, beautiful, and perfect. They're the people who can get the job done.

I've been interrupted twice as I was thinking about this and I can't seem to get any further with it now.

First Shots

The time has been flying by. Sebastian is getting so big already. His shoulders are wide enough to to reach both sides of the car seat now, and his feet are starting to hang over the edge. Yesterday were his first vaccinations. I was quite keyed-up about it and anxious. He was in a great mood the whole appointment (greatly helped by Daddy's silly faces in the waiting room), not crying on the scale like he had the previous two visits, and smiling at Dr. Spencer. He only cried for the shots themselves (I almost did too) but after they were done, he recovered immediately. We were able to put him back in his car seat and go home, rather than staying there to nurse as a comfort measure. Today he was in a great mood as well. The only thing out of the ordinary was that he took a three-and-a-half-hour nap.

I keep planning to write a long entry but it's bedtime and I have to crash. I shall return. Or as the French more mellifluously put it, "Je reviens."

Bulletin

Sebastian slept nine hours last night! And went down for sleep for the third time quietly and happily. I'm amazed this is working.

Perchance to Dream

Sebastian is starting to sleep like such a trouper. I read Solving Your Child's Sleep Problems, and we've used some of those techniques to help him learn to get to sleep on his own. Because of all the sleep problems I've had as an adult I want him to have good sleep habits from the beginning. What the doctor says in that book makes sense to me. He makes an analogy between using certain ways to get a child to sleep and an invalid whose pillow gets stolen in the night. The gist is, say you're an invalid and you go to sleep with a pillow beneath your head. Sometime in the night someone steals your pillow. You waken and are upset and can't get back to sleep, because you're used to falling asleep with the pillow there. Every night you start out with a pillow and then wake up with nothing. Every night your sleep is disrupted. The pillow is equivalent to a pacifier, which falls out, or being rocked to sleep and then waking in a different place with no warm body or rocking motion. Since the baby learns to fall asleep with the sucking object or the motion and warmth, he doesn't know how to put himself to sleep again without those things. In other words, the ability to fall asleep in a crib by oneself is a learned skill.

There are methods in the book to help the baby do this (such as going in at regular intervals and soothing if they cry, while they are in the crib, then going out again, waiting to see if they settle, if not going in again after an interval) and it's working! He really seems to be learning how to get to sleep in his crib, and put himself back to sleep if he wakens in the night. Last night he went down after his nighttime routine, sleepy but awake, and he didn't fuss at all. Just drifted off after lying there quietly. Today for his nap, same thing. Last night he woke once at 4 to eat and then fell asleep again for another five hours. Of course the nighttime routine is very important to give him everything he needs before going to bed: a walk in his stroller, his bath (with lavendar), massage, cuddle time in the dimly lit room, etc. Of course we're newbies at this, but I'm excited about all the implications of this for our lives. Less stress for him and for us, more time for William and me in the evening, a better night's sleep for him. I may not know what I'm doing, but I can read a book and follow instructions, by golly!

I feel much more awake having had more sleep the last three nights. I don't feel like a zombie until noon, and I can get more things done. I have much more energy when I swim, too, so hopefully I will get back in some semblance of shape before long. Very encouraged!

Brain Wave

Still can't stop thinking about Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince. The beautiful ending.

I reread "Our Hearts Were Young and Gay." Now I'm starting on a mystery with a cover-blurb by P.D. James. I suspect P.D. and the author are friends, however, because "Phyllis" is one of the people the book is dedicated to. I don't think P.D. would give out gratuitous blurbs even to a friend, though. I've just read the first few pages and curiously the style is reminiscent of P.D. herself. Which is no bad thing.

The other night I turned the channel to PBS and heard some narration to what appeared to be a documentary. As I listened I thought, "F. Scott Fitzgerald." I hadn't heard the quote before but within a sentence or two it sounded like him. It was him, which was satisfying, but that got me thinking about how incredible it is someone's prose can be distinctive in such a brief span. Writing can reflect a pattern as unique as a fingerprint. Reading someone's writing is like being inside his head. Perhaps the closest we ever are to getting in each other's minds. Maybe that's why reading is such an escape. One can relax inside another person's thoughts and take a break from the rhythms of one's own brain.

Then I had a strange leap to Sebastian's arm movements. The way his arms move when he's in his flailing mode (often when looking around in his crib); his arms shudder and wave like he's conducting. His arm movements remind me of the flutter of the little arm on the machines which read brain waves. Could his arms reflect the pattern of his brain waves?

Harry Potter

If a baby's goal were to keep Mom awake, today and last night this baby would be winning. I thought he was down for a nice long nap an hour ago. I planned a shower and a nap myself. After the shower I looked in to check on him. He was staring right at me. Ack! I sneaked away to see if he'd entertain himself for a while, which he does sometimes. Nope. The problem is when he does go to sleep relatively early in the evening, as he did last night, I start doing all the things I haven't been able to do while caring for him and I get carried away doing everything when I should be sleeping.

We tried a new routine last night to get him ready for bed. A bath with lavender shampoo. Then a massage with lavender lotion. A walk around the neighborhood. He was out cold halfway through the walk and after we got home he slept for a nice long time. I think the double-whammy of lavender really relaxed him. Starting around 7:30 worked really well. We'll see how it goes tonight.

Enough baby talk! I went to the wonderful Chlorine and Estrogen party hosted by my friend Lisa at her mom's house. A pool party for women only. It's a beautiful pool with little waterfalls and lion's heads spouting water, overlooking a wide canyon filled with trees. The atmosphere was very Mount Holyoke. Relaxing female energy. I could only stay a little while but it was like a mini-vacation. There was a bunch of food, but I didn't eat, which was strange after nine months of wanting to eat everything in sight. After I left I wished I'd snagged a brownie, though.

Yesterday William and I had our first post-baby date and went to see Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince. I was blown away. It was truly beautiful. The cinematography, the scoring, the symbolism, all cohesive and affecting. It was like painting with film. I awaited each scene eagerly, to see what striking new image would come next. One transition, as Harry looks into the pensieve, was so artful and lovely I gasped. I hadn't heard of the director, David Yates. I looked him up afterward and he's done mostly smaller British films. I was very happy to see he will direct the two-part Deathly Hallows. The tone was more understated than the other films, which made it somehow much more powerful. It's inspiring to see such a successful marriage of all the arts of filmmaking come together. I thought it was a great film. I can't remember the last time I've enjoyed one as much. For that film to emerge out of a commercial blockbuster series like Harry Potter makes it all the more surprising. It's such a pleasure to see characters one knows and likes portrayed in a new way, too, which shows the nuances instead of broad strokes. It amazes me what a difference it makes to have the material in different hands. If I were J.K. Rowling I'd be very pleased. The film captured the richness and depth of the world she created, in all its fantastical whimsy. Yates's direction of the actors, too: every character benefitted from his touch. I especially enjoyed Draco, whose role is almost without dialogue yet his journey creates an undercurrent throughout the film, and Luna, who is serene and confident, never made to seem ridiculous. The Quidditch match looked exciting and dangerous, a worthy wizard sport. That's the first time I've enjoyed Quidditch in book or film. I hope I can see the film again on the big screen.

An Afternoon Out

Took the baby out in the car for the first time by myself. I haven't been able to carry the weight of both the baby and the car seat until recently so that was one reason. I still seem to be a little weaker than normal: he felt very heavy in the car seat and it's hard to believe he's going to get a whole lot heavier. Plus the car seat is an awkward object to carry. I'm sure I'll get used to it. I thought of stopping at the store as well as my errand but the thought of getting out and in again stopped me. He slept most of the time, except for a very little crying. He's been hard asleep in the swing for about two hours now. I don't know if I could sleep while being rocked that fast from side to side but he seems to like it.

I've been getting so thirsty it's hard to keep enough water around. I like the water from the Brita filter pitcher but just getting to it to refill often enough is a challenge. Luckily William doesn't mind getting me some when I can't seem to make it down the hall because the baby is nursing. He's been very hungry lately--even more than every three hours. He brings out all the cuteness stops early in the morning when he wakes up. His arms and legs kick and flail in a kind of synchronized frenzy of excitement and his eyes are big and bright. It's so cute it can even make me smile during what is usually my non-operational zone of every 24 hours. These babies have quite a racket going! I'm not saying it's easy to be a baby, though. I see how seriously he takes his jobs of growing, eating, burping, and eliminating. And sleeping. It's an around-the-clock job for him, too.

Cause and Effect

He slept from midnight until five so I consider that a truimph. Is this because of the bath? Maybe parents do a sort of voodoo which they just think helps? As in, "If I do A then he'll do B." So you keep doing A thinking it leads to B and not realizing it's pure coincidence. I hope he falls asleep again after eating. Five a.m. is not my strong time of day, to put it mildly.

Bath Time

We're trying the "give Sebastian a bath and see if that helps him sleep at night" technique. Tonight he didn't cry during his bath at all until the end when his hair got washed. He's wearing a super-cute light blue sleeper with little trucks embroidered on the front in red. He gets more irritable and fussy in the evening, which apparently is a stage they can go through. In the main he's a very agreeable baby.

I actually hurt myself laughing at the show Wipeout. I strained my stomach muscles or something where I have the stitches. That John Henson cracks me up. The Big Balls are my favorite.

William got me the new iphone. I was skeptical, but I have to say it's a pretty amazing gadget. It's so much smarter than my old phone. It was designed by people who thought about it. A lot. Watching someone else use one doesn't let you know what it's like to be sucked into that little screen yourself.

I have a canker sore on the side of my tongue and it's making eating difficult. Also talking.

I've been thinking about writing. I think I can do it when I'm sitting here nursing. I have a special pillow Michelle recommended which holds the baby in the right position, so with the portable desk and my laptop in front of me, I can type at the same time. I left my story at an interesting place (if I do say so myself)--I want to know what's going to happen, too!

And Your Host Is: Sebastian Goodwin!

I guess we've achieved the More Explosive Diaper realm. Sebastian's gone through more costume changes than an Oscar host in the last twenty-four hours. He slept for more than five hours straight last night, though, and has been in a great mood today. He's learning to grab onto things like my hair or the top of a shirt. He's making more eye contact and will stare at you soulfully. His eyes are a very dark blue. His hair is dark brown, about the shade of William's, and gets wavy after a bath. I think it's starting to grow in lighter, though.

Typing with one hand so keeping it short.

Babies R Us

Yes, we are exhausted, if you were wondering. Now I seem to wake up at three hour intervals whether the baby is telling me to or not. Sleeping for three solid hours also feels like a long time.

I got to go swimming day before yesterday for the first time since Sebastian was born. William took him over to a friend's house for a couple of hours and I got in the pool. I was surprised how inflexible and weak I felt compared to when I was swimming around nine months pregnant. I guess it will take a while to get that strength back.

We saw Dr. Keller for my follow-up appointment after the surgery. Dr. Monks wasn't there, so we had one of his partners, who had also visited us our first day in the hospital. She told us Sebastian was occiput posterior when he was born (or "sunny-side up") and the flexion of his neck in that position could have make it difficult for him to descend during labor. She said if he had been smaller it still might have worked without the c-section. She said I did everything possible and not to feel bad about having a c-section. I was feeling like if only I could have pushed longer I could have done it, but she said c-sections are made for cases like this. It's just hard to mentally adjust to those interventions after you've been imagining something else for nine months. I feel more okay about it now though. As she said, he's healthy and that's the important thing.

Sebastian is doing well--he seems to be getting enough food and sleep, luckily! He's already too big for some of the newborn clothes, particularly the ones that seem designed for short, wide babies. He's more the long and lean type. I've tried to put him in some of the shorter-waisted onesies and when they're snapped at the bottom, they pull down over his shoulder, like he's a French cabaret singer.

He still admires the bedpost exceedingly. Sometimes he'd rather look at that than eat.

I'm going through book withdrawal as I've read everything I want to read at home. I want to finagle a visit to Barnes and Noble--am so desperate for something new I'm willing to pay top dollar instead of going to the reasonable Half-price Books. I crave a shiny new hardcover.

Sebastian is getting more smiley, though he seldom seems to smile directly at what we're doing. William does some pretty funny things but S. doesn't know quite how to react yet. Our favorite outfit to put him in is a big terrycloth sleep sack; William calls it his "Sweet Pea" outfit, which is sleeveless, has big arm holes so it's easy to put on, and keeps him warm. This outfit seems to be a target for messes, though. It's spending a lot of time in the wash. I'm still an amateur at getting him into snug onesies. The last time I tried to do something similar I was four years old and dressing up Tom Kitten in my doll clothes. There was a particular blue-green sweater I liked to put on the kitty. It's still one of my favorite colors.

What Sebastian is Like

We're home and have been learning the baby ropes. It's been two weeks and two days since Sebastian was born. He's had two doctor visits (with the wonderful Dr. Spencer) and has gained back his birth weight plus ten ounces, so he's doing well. She said we can let him sleep as long as he wants to at night without waking him up to eat. So far the longest he's slept is five and a half hours, which he's done twice. It felt like forever. He usually eats every three hours, for about 45 minutes or so. It's nothing like the Jones quintuplets, who ate every three hours and it took two hours to feed them all! I can't imagine one hour between every feeding around the clock.

Dr. Spencer is happy with him, plus she said he's cute, so it's good to get a medical opinion confirming our biased one.

William went back to work on Monday, which was difficult for me and for him. I'm still trying to figure out a sort of routine. Right now it's reactive to whatever Sebastian needs at the moment, which is probably how it's going to be for a while. Mom has been a great help, watching him in between a feeding in the morning or afternoon so I can either catch up on sleep or get a shower or just chill out for a little while. I've been rereading Jane Austen from an enormous hardback book which has all six books in it. It weighs more than the baby and is tedious to hoist around, but my little JA books are packed away (whyever did I do that?). I use the Boppy to prop it up sometimes.

Sebastian is a pretty easy baby, I think, although the easiest baby is of course still a lot of work. He's got these cute little dinosaur sounds which seem to be some kind of commentary though I haven't figured out their exact meaning. He's generally happy, especially after eating, in the middle of the night, and in the morning. Evenings are a little rockier. He likes to go for walks in his stroller. He likes to sit up and look around (of course he can't sit up himself yet). His favorite thing to look at, oddly enough, is our bed posts. They must make interesting shadows or contrast between light and dark. He examines a bed post as if he's making scientific study of it and isn't quite sure of his conclusions. He's very strong and can hold his head up himself quite well. I think his hair is going to be wavy though maybe you can't tell yet. We think it's funny that he appears to have William's toes, except for the pinky toe, which looks like mine--a round little "piggy." When he gets upset a precursor is the steam train sound, when he huffs and puffs. He grins to himself, particularly when he's sleeping, as if he heard a joke or thought of something amusing. I think he's thoughtful (as in full of thoughts, not considerate--yet) and curious.

He's sleeping on my lap now and I should probably take this chance to put him in his crib and go take a shower.

The Birth of Sebastian

The doctor said, "I take back everything I said before," and said I could push.

Then the doctor left, which surprised me, because I thought, "I'm going to push, the baby's going to be born, where is he going?" I forgot that the doctor only comes in at the end when the baby is right there, moments from birth. There were two nurses there, Angelica and Sarah, and the midwife from the birth center, Anabel, and William. Pushing was not bad at all. It took a while to figure it out, how to do it efficiently, relaxing the right muscles and tensing the other muscles, but the epidural did not make me competely numb so I could move my legs and use them. I was having some pain (nothing like before) and I had a little button I could push every five minutes to give more medicine to the epidural. I pushed it a few times and I had William push it as well. The nurses were very encouraging. The nurse in charge got a little territorial with Anabel; every time Anabel would make a suggestion, such as I change position, the head nurse would come up with a reason why I couldn't do it. She said I had to have the baby by 7:00 am, because that's when they went off shift. (She meant it in a nice way, of course.) I didn't have it by 7, and another nurse came in to take their place. Here name way Rena (I think) and she did things differently. It took a little while for me to get used to her methods, but I realized she was more in keeping with the kind of methods we learned about in Bradley class. She got the birthing bar out (an arched metal bar which goes over the end of the bed) and tied a sheet to it. I held on to the sheet during contractions when I was pushing. Since I was having either long or double contractions I pushed four times per contraction instead of the usual three. Rena, Jenny (another midwife who took Anabel's place), and William were very encouraging and from what Rena was saying it seemed like I was making progress. I could feel more pressure from the baby's head, and pressure in a different place, as I continued pushing. Rena got everything ready for the baby to be born and told me what would happen. There was a very Star Trek baby station near the foot of the bed.

After two hours the doctor came in and checked me. I was excited. When he was done he told me the baby hadn't changed station (position in the pelvis) since I'd been pushing. I couldn't believe it, especially because I'd felt something change. I expected him to say the baby was about to be born. He repeated that I should have a c-section. He left and I cried. Rena seemed disappointed, and said, "I hate it when my patients have c-sections," and she seemed like she believed I could have the baby the other way. I asked Jenny if she thought the doctor had a point, and she said she agreed with him and told me why. I can't remember what she said now. I tried to integrate it in my brain after everything we'd been through, all the three months of classes, all the appointments at the birth center, all the laboring at the birth center, all the pushing, and now we were left with this. I reconciled myself to it but I wasn't happy about it. I had two more contractions during which I didn't push, which felt strange and unnatural by that point. It seemed like giving up. Everyone in the room told me I had done a great job, which helped.

At some point I sat up and William found out my epidural line had come detached. All those times we pushed the button nothing had happened! He reattached it.

Another anasthesiologist came in and gave me a different shot through the epidural. He told me to call him Joe. They wheeled me through a lot of corridors and William went somewhere to get on a gown. Rena went with me and Jenny said she'd see me in recovery. When we got to the surgery it was very bright, very cold, and there were what seemed like a lot of people in there. Rena was very busy doing things and I was surprised she came with us and had such different tasks to do. No one talked to me except Joe. I got very cold and was shaking so hard my jaw locked and ached. Joe asked me what was wrong when he saw me trying to rub my jaw. I told him but he didn't do anything about the cold. A blanket? I thought. They called William in and I thought he looked funny in his white jumpsuit. They put a blue sheet right over my face. I thought it would stand up around my midsection, but no, they laid it right on me, which was weird. Joe told William he could stand up and watch everything if he wanted to. He did. I watched him. I wanted to say, "No! You don't want to watch!" but I seemed to be unable to talk much at that point. It was strange that he was seeing me cut open. He didn't grimace or look grossed out or anything. He just looked interested. It seemed to take a long time to get to the baby. I expected to hear a cry very soon, but they were doing something or other for ages. I thought, "I don't know if I'm ready to hear this cry." Finally, finally, we heard it. William looked and looked, and then he bent down very close to me, looking me right in the eyes, and whispered, "It's a boy." Then the doctor told him to announce what it was, and he said it aloud. I cried from happiness. The baby was hollering. After a minute William held him up next to me and I could see him. He had a hat on and was wrapped up. I could only see his profile and first. When I finally saw his face, I thought, "He looks so serious." He didn't look familiar at all. They took him away, and I thought, "Do I have any say in this?" William went with him and the surgical team sewed me up. They joked around and the two doctors talked about the perils of practicing medicine in the present day and whether becoming more socialized would kill everything. I couldn't help thinking Dr. Monks hardly seemed aware that I was an awake consciousness during the whole thing. I guess when someone's covered up with a blue sheet it's easy to think they're just organs and skin and to forget about the person under there.

As Dr. Monks was going away he told me the baby's head had been out of position and it might have made it harder for me to get him out. He said my pelvis was "adequate" but it got narrower toward the end and the combination might have been a factor. He didn't seem to want to hang around and chat about it much.

They wheeled me into recovery, Rena still staying with me. I was dying of thirst and freezing. I kept asking for more blankets. The first bite of ice chips was heavenly. Jenny came in. I rested for a while and tried to get warm. William and Sebastian came in--I didn't know they'd meet me in recovery and I was happy. I can't remember what we talked about now. I was able to hold him for the first time. It's kind of blurry, which I wish it wasn't. I remember we realized Mom and Dad didn't know what had happened. We were going back to the room then and we would go by the waiting room so we could tell them then. They wheeled me in my bed and Sebastian in his to our postpartum room.

I feel exhausted just writing this out. Sebastian is asleep on my lap. It's been a gradual process getting to know him and understand the how-tos of babyhood, but mothering him seems very natural. I am happy he's finally here. I didn't know what to expect and I don't think I could have imagined him. He's a unique personality and is always his own little self. We're taking it day-by-day, sleep deprivation and all, and enjoying our new family. Thanks to everyone who's been helping us out.

The Labor Story

Pregnancy and labor are over and the new member of our family is here. Sebastian Drake Goodwin was born on July 7th, 2009, at 9:07 a.m. He was 8.8 pounds and 21 inches long. We've been home from the hospital for two days now.

Hospital. Yes, we ended up at the hospital after all our planning and learning about natural birth. The labor was a different experience than I anticipated. There's no way to know what you're going to get when you start the labor process. I'm glad I didn't know what lay ahead of me beforehand: it's better to live it in the moment. It's the only way to get through it.

I went into labor in the middle of the night on Sunday night, Monday morning. It was about 2 a.m. when I woke up with contractions. I wanted to let William sleep as long as possible since we had the whole labor in front of us. I couldn't sleep again: the contractions were too strong, but they were still pretty far apart. I woke him up sometime after four. He started timing them with a convenient app on his iphone. He started getting things ready and I lay in bed. We learned in our classes to ignore labor during the first stage and do other things, but it was pretty impossible to do that from the beginning because the contractions were intense. William threw together a labor playlist (something he had been trying to get me to do for weeks) on his computer. Once I was in labor I knew exactly who I wanted to listen to: Loreena McKinnet, Sarah Brightman, Lisa Gerrard, and Enya. He put my ipod on a docking station and we listened to the music in our bedroom. The music helped. Sometime after the sun came up he called the birth center. Anabel wanted to talk to me. She asked me some questions (I can't remember what they were now) and told us we should probably come in. She heard me having a contraction over the phone and I think that convinced her. It was around 9:30 a.m. when we got to the center.

Once we got there we were whisked right in to the birthing room we had chosen, Santa Fe, where my friend Wren gave birth. The room was so nice and cozy. When she checked me I was only at three centimeters. She said we could go back home for a while if we wanted, or we could stay. After watching me go through another contraction and seeing how painful it was, she suggested we stay. We got in the shower after a little while. It's hard for me to remember the early part of the labor now. It went on for a very long time, but time seemed to lose meaning. The contractions got more painful and closer together. I got in the tub, which felt wonderful. William rubbed me if I wanted to be rubbed, gave me water, didn't say anything when I got snappy, and was generally a great guy about everything that was going on. As the contractions got stronger, the pain got kind of out of control. I started to ask about the Nubain, which was a drug they had available at the birth center for pain relief. Anabel was reluctant to give it to me that early, because she said they usually saved it for transition, and also it could slow down the labor. After a certain point I didn't care anymore about anything but getting some relief. She gave me the Nubain and I got in the tub again. I felt such intense relief getting something that took the edge off the contractions. They were still painful, but I could manage it. Anabel suggested breaking the bag of waters to hopefully speed things along, as my progress was slow. I felt anxious about doing that. I asked William to call Wren in (she was there at the center, along with her husband Anthony and my parents) so I could ask her about when she had it done. I sat in the tub and talked to Wren for a while. I felt so much better at that point than I had earlier. She reassured me and I decided to go ahead and let Anabel do it. I got up and got back in the bed.

Anabel broke the bag and the amniotic fluid flooded out when I stood up. I didn't feel any different at first. Then the contractions slowly started to get stronger again and more painful. Somewhere around this time the woman in the next room started to get closer to giving birth. There was only one midwife at the center, so Anabel had to go next door to assist her. Then the most difficult part of the labor started, because my contractions kept amping up, the pain relief had worn off, and the only person checking on me was a very clueless and fairly incompetant assistant who kept touching me during contractions, even though I told her not to, slamming doors when she went in and out of rooms, and not relaying information back and forth between me and the midwife, as far as I could tell. I finally yelled at her to stop touching me.

I had an upper chest cold which had been lingering for two weeks and at this point it got difficult to breathe at the height of the contractions. I was wheezing trying to get air. Not being able to breath deeply when the pain was worst made the pain more unbearable. I asked the assistant if I could have oxygen. She never answered me or got back to me about whether Anabel thought this was all right, so I never got any oxygen. The assistant left us alone for a good part of the time, too, so for much of the next two hours William was dealing with me alone as I went through hell. I stood with my hands leaning on the back of a chair during contractions. I could not bear to have William touch me, which made it hard for him. I couldn't get back in the tub. Moving at all, changing position, brought on agony. I couldn't get relaxed because the pain had me in such a grip. I was literally rising up on my toes trying to get away from it. Anabel finally returned. (We learned later the baby next door had trouble breathing and she had to work on it after the birth to make sure it was all right). The first thing she suggested was that we go to the hospital. I was very surprised by this, even though it had been so rough. It ran across my mind how we had decided it was unnecessary to get a hospital tour or preregister for the "just in case" scenario. I asked her how could I possibly make it to the hospital with the pain I was having. I couldn't imagine being in a car, or even worse, strapped down in an ambulance, and going through the kind of contractions I was having. She said she could give me another shot. That relieved my mind and she quickly gave me the shot. Soon after William and I were in Mom and Dad's car, him driving and me in the passenger seat, following Anabel to the hospital. At one point when I had a contraction Anabel pulled over to wait for it to be over. I didn't realize until we were pulling away again that we had stopped.

We got to the hospital and pulled into an entrance. William helped me out and Anabel was trying to get me a wheelchair. Someone in the hospital called out something about where the wheelchairs were and I thought they were saying we had to go to another entrance, I said, "You've got to be kidding." Luckily that was not what they were saying, and soon I was seated in an extremely narrow wheelchair. I thought, "Am I so wide I can barely fit in a wheelchair?" When we got to some kind of desk another contraction started and I was making the noises I had to make during contractions and noticed very peripherally that everything went on as usual around me. We got taken to a private room and somehow I got on the bed. A nurse came in and told me she had to ask me a lot of questions. I thought, "Hell, it doesn't matter if you're in the middle of it, they're going to dot every i and cross every t." She stood entering information into a laptop and I answered her questions (my whole medical history, pretty much) with William answering for me when another contraction started. A doctor wandered in at some point and started talking about c-sections. He talked straight through contractions, which I felt was thoughtless and quite ignorant for an obstetrician to do. How was I supposed to understand, remember, and respond to medical information DURING a contraction? One can't think about anything else. It takes incredible concentration.

Needless to say, I can't remember much of what he said. I do remember he said I showed an irregular pattern of labor and the contractions weren't strong enough. Weren't strong enough? How was that possible? He checked me and I was at about 7 centimeters. He said he was concerned the baby was big and about the possibility of shoulder dystocia. I felt the baby was not too big but I was concerned about the irregular pattern. He said they could try pitocin to see if it would help the contractions and dilation. We agreed to that and I told him (when I could talk) that I wanted to be on the fast track for an epidural. I also said I wanted the pitocin after the epidural. He went away and after a while the anasthesiologist came in. He was very nice, explained everything clearly at every step, and made me feel like I was in good hands. There wasn't time to get everything done between contractions so I had to sit upright while he inserted the needle and be still during a contraction. That wasn't as hard as it might have been because I knew I would feel better very soon. He told me I'd only have to feel one more contraction before the epidural set in. I had to lie on my back so it could work (also an awful position to be in during a contraction) but it started working during the next one and from that point on I felt like I was in heaven, comparatively speaking. There is nothing like going from intense pain to relatively little pain. I could be nice again and talk to everyone and thank William. The next amount of time slid by, which I guess was several hours. I lay on my side and concentrated on relaxing my body and mind as much as possible. I thought about the baby descending and tried to visualize it.

Eventually the doctor came in again. The baby had "decels," a decellerated heart rate, on the pitocin, so they took me off of it. He gave a spiel about a c-section again and gave various dire predictions like having to manually assist the baby if I had it vaginally. He didn't think I would have changed much since the pitocin only dilated me a further .5 centimeters. But when he checked me I was at 10 centimeters, even though they'd stopped the pitocin quite a while earlier. I think the epidural and relaxation are what helped me get there.

Part II, The Birth of Sebastion, Coming Soon

The Babymooners

Now in the laryngitis stage of this strange not-a-head-cold-it's-a-chest-cold thing. Trying to talk to an automated operator on the phone, the computer said, "I'm sorry we're having so much trouble understanding each other; I'll transfer you to a representative," in a very sympathetic voice. I could get used to sensitive robots.

Our babymoon was AWE-SOME (said in hamster-whisper from the movie Bolt). Thanks to Mom and Dad and Kim and Alan for helping to make it possible.

I've got MB very suspicious that William and I secretly know the sex of the baby and are hiding it from everyone. Would that we were that artful! Who knew a little sky-blue paint slapped on a wall could make us appear duplicitous? If it weren't for the trauma inflicted on 6-year-old Bertie in the 44 Scotland Street series from having pink walls painted by his well-meaning mother, I would have gone with a rosy shade without a qualm. We have more yellow and green clothes than one could dream possible. Hope the baby doesn't look jaundiced in yellow. Katrina warned us it might.

Babymoon Blastoff

Bit of an adventure yesterday which I do not wish to relive on a blog. Hyperventilated due to a combination of factors. I seem to have some kind of upper chest congestion thing going on, which is now being helped by hot showers, chicken soup, and hot tea. Everything hot in the 100+ degree weather. Luckily I'm inside.

The carpet is going in today, which is very exciting. Also this evening is the start of William's and my at-home Babymoon. The house is still going to be crowded with out-of-place furniture but with the carpet installation being pushed from Tuesday to Friday there's nothing to be done about it now. There's still enough room for carefree fun in the countdown before Everything Baby.