We are three weeks into the family of four thing! We also just celebrated Levi's second birthday. To commemorate the day, we also pulled out the DVD of videos we took throughout his first year. Oh my goodness, was that first birthday party only one year ago!? And do all those things really happen in the first year? It was a good refresher, actually, to see what babies do during their first year. I totally forgot about the phase where Levi would lay on his back and grasp toys between his feet. I also forgot how stubborn he was about walking... he cruised and held onto furniture and walls from about 9 months through 15 months. And now, with Wendy, we get to do it all over again.
When people ask us "so, how's it going?" Andy and I both tend to answer the same way: "The second one is so much easier!" We can't really decide how much of that is due to forgetfulness of what life was like two years ago versus us being more relaxed about parenting now that we've done it once before, but here's some of the things we have found easier:
1) The birth. I never wrote up a birth story for Levi (maybe I'll do that one day), but Wendy's birth was so much easier.
2) The recovery. I was able to walk myself out of the hospital this time rather than having to ride a wheelchair to the door. Of course, I'm still in the first six-week recovery window, but it's generally been easier this time around.
3) The scheduling. With Levi, it felt so impossible to get ourselves out of the house around a nursing, diapering, sleeping schedule. Now, we've managed to get out of the house (and ON TIME!) to various things like church, doctor's appointments, dinner out, without freaking out.
4) The crying. When the baby cries, of course, we comfort her, but I don't feel the same "oh my goodness, what if this is the time when she never, ever stops and becomes one of those severe colic babies?" dread that I felt last time. True, there are no guarantees that Wendy won't be a complete fuss bottom, but what's the point in worrying about it?
5) The nursing. So. much. easier. Again, how much of that is second baby syndrome versus I know what I'm doing this time versus these just being different kids who nurse differently? All I know is that the first four to six weeks of nursing Levi were so all consuming, so difficult and frankly painful. When I was watching a video of me in the hospital with Levi, I heard Andy say "I think he'd be ready to eat again if you're ready." I replied in a very serious tone "I'm not." This time, with Wendy, there's been no pain or struggle. When she's hungry, she eats.
6) The life transition. With Levi, I went from being a full time employee to a woman on maternity leave figuring out what motherhood was going to look like. This time, I went from being a mother of one to a mother of two. I have some of the mommy things already figured out, like which playgrounds have good shade, how to pack up a diaper bag for a playdate or what kind of music will make my kids happy.
I'm sure there are more things, but for now that's my list. Today is my first day at home with both kids without the help of my mom who was here for the first three weeks. We'll see how this goes. ;)
Monday, July 30, 2012
Saturday, July 14, 2012
wendy's birth story
Where do I begin? My first baby was born via csection after 12 days of prodromal labor (extended, painful early labor that doesn't help you progress) and then 18 hours in the hospital after my water broke. I got stuck at 8-9 centimeters dilated even with medical help, so c-section it was! When I got pregnant again, we had to decide whether to attempt a delivery the regular way or to continue with a repeat c-section. After much debating, praying and researching, Andy and I decided that I would undergo another c-section.
How strange to "schedule" your baby's birthday, but that's what we found ourselves doing. July 10 at 7:30 a.m. our baby girl was scheduled to arrive. That was a Tuesday. We were supposed to get to the hospital at 5:30 a.m., get all our paperwork straightened out, then walk myself into the operating room and lay down. Well, our baby girl had other plans!
On Friday, July 6, I was busy making the most of my last day of "work." This was the last day I was going to be a stay-at-home mom to an only child. Somehow this made me a little nervous, because my laboring with Levi began on my last day of work at my former job. Could it possibly happen again? Nooo... I mean, I had been experiencing a lot of Braxton Hicks contractions. Seems like my uterus didn't get the memo that it didn't need to practice laboring. That afternoon, while Levi was napping. I was working on my anniversary gift to Andy for our seventh anniversary. Each year I write a letter about our year and turn it into several digital scrapbook pages with pictures. Three typed pages later, I had finished my letter. Man what a year! We started with a one-year-old's birthday party, sold our house, bought a house, and did so much in between. Just reviewing it exhausted me! I ended the letter with "P.S. I won't be proofreading this year's letter because the longer I sit at the desk, the more Braxton Hicks contractions I get." I thought that sitting at the computer and reliving all the crazy events of the year was just making me a little uncomfortable, and as soon as I relaxed a little, the contractions would slow down. But instead, they started to get more uncomfortable. By the time Andy got home at 5:30, they were pretty much painful. At first, I didn't tell him anything was going on. Can we say "denial"??
Eventually I fessed up, and we decided to just keep an eye on things. Well, things started to pick up. I downloaded a contraction timer app on my Kindle Fire, and found that I was contracting for one minute at a time, every three to five minutes. Not only that, but they were becoming more and more painful. I had to stop each time and was losing the ability to talk through them. Uh oh. We put Levi to bed, probably one of the most emotional moments of the night. I read him a story about becoming a big brother and explained to him that we might not be there in the morning, but that Mommom would be and that we would be back. Deep breaths. At this point we call the doctor, she says we can wait an hour or we can come in now. I know that if we go in, we likely won't be leaving without having a baby. I spend a little time semi-freaking out about all the stuff I had planned for our last weekend. Our anniversary celebration. Time with Levi. Taking a bath in my brand new master bathroom. Finishing the last few things on my to-do list. Then the pain took over and I lost interest in freaking out. Andy grabbed my hospital bag packing list that I had already printed out and we began throwing stuff into a suitcase. Thank goodness I had already made that list. The contractions are starting to take over and each time, more and more expletives start flying out of my mouth. I tried to think of something more positive to say, but nope... I turned into a sailor. By the time Andy's sister arrived to stay with Levi, I was "vocalizing" quite loudly on the couch. One big contraction, then I felt this hard snap inside me. I stood up to get in the car, and my water breaks allllll over the floor. Yay for hardwood floors. I apologize to my sister-in-law for leaving her with a mess, and we get into the truck. (The other car is currently at the shop... one more thing that was on our to-do list for the lost weekend.)
On our way to the hospital, the contractions are absolutely miserable. I try making a few phone calls, but with each contraction I chuck the phone in Andy's general direction and try not to be too loud. We get there in record time and I drag myself into the waiting room with a towel between my legs. All dignity lost at this point. Another pregnant lady waiting to be checked in waves me onward ahead of her.
We explain to the nurse that we've already talked to our doctor, we were scheduled for a c-section Tuesday, and she cuts me off... "Why are you having a c-section? Do you want a VBAC?" Lady, now is not the time to question my judgement, I think to myself. All I wanted was for her to check my cervix for dilation because if I was already at 6 or 7 centimeters like I thought I must be, then maybe we'd talk to the doctor. She tries to check me, but apparently everything is still so high up, she can't even reach me. Not a good sign. She calls in another nurse who confirms that I'm barely dilated 2 centimeters. You have got to be kidding me. We talk with the doctor a little more and decide to proceed with our plan to have a c-section.
Meanwhile, I have turned into Wolverine during my contractions. Andy reminds me that my nails are very long. Apparently I've broken skin on his hand. I've also managed to scratch his face and nearly bit his arm. I also attempted to dislocate the thumb of the mean nurse. Oops. They give me some kind of narcotic to "relax" me. I still feel the pain, but I seem to have lost the ability to claw and curse. I think this drug is more for their benefit than for mine!
By 11:30, the operating room and my doctor are ready. I curl up over the edge of the table to receive my epidural and spinal injection. One more big contraction during the procedure (absolute torture to sit still through!) and then my legs start to get warm. They lay me down and things start to go numb. Ahhh, bliss. They continue with the preparation work, draping a curtain between my head and the rest of my body. They lay some sort of warming blow-up tent over my arms to keep me warm since the room is so cold. I have the anesthesiologist check me twice to be sure I'm really, really numb. (With Levi, my epidural wasn't a complete block on my pain and they knocked me out shortly after Levi was born.) I keep asking over and over when Andy will be let into the room, and finally he makes his way in. Just a few minutes later, they warn me that I will feel some big tugging and pressure as they pull the baby out. Sure enough, I feel like a weight is being lifted out of me. In these final moments of my pregnancy, I realize that I will know for sure very soon that I have a daughter. "Is it a girl?" I ask. Yes, it's a girl! The doctor invites Andy to peek over the curtain as she is being pulled out. Instead, he stands and just aims the camera. He actually got a picture of the baby being pulled from my body! She cries like a little goat, and Andy tells me she has dark brown hair. The doctor takes her and immediately brings her around the curtain so I can see her in her natural born state, before she's all cleaned up. For some reason, this moment is really important to me as I memorize the sight of her red, squirmy body. Wendy Harsany Simpson, welcome to the world. It's 12:18 a.m. and she weighs 7 pounds, 6 ounces. She is 20 inches long.
They take Wendy over to be checked out and I'm just elated to have been so aware and awake for her birth. I have told the anesthesiologist that I don't want any more medication that would relax me for the stitching up process. I want to be sure that I'm fully awake once I'm out of recovery and get ahold of Wendy. At this point I finally keep my eyes open. (They have been closed from the time I entered triage until the moment Wendy came out, pretty much.) I feel every tug and pull as the doctor stitches up each of my layers. I hear the nurses counting off the tools with each layer. One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, ten. And so on. It doesn't seem to take very long to put me back together. I later learn that my uterus was so paper thin, that it tore perpendicularly from the cut that the doctor made, as she pulled the baby out. Knowing this bit of information makes me feel even more confident in the decision we made for a repeat c-section.
After I am finished with the surgery, they scoot me off the table onto another bed and wheel me into recovery. I basically twiddle my thumbs for the next hour, waiting and waiting with wide eyes until I can be reunited with Andy and Wendy. Finally it is time. They wheel my bed out of recovery, ram me into a wall on the way out (ouch) and get me to my room. Wendy is wheeled in on her little baby cart and placed into my arms. She's so soft and warm, like a little sleepy puppy. Her hair is so silky and her little feet are so wrinkly. I love her for what she is and for what she may become. I love her for being a little sister and for making me a mother of two. I love her for allowing me to see Andy as the father of a little girl. And most of all, I love her simply because she was once part of me and that thread will never be broken.
How strange to "schedule" your baby's birthday, but that's what we found ourselves doing. July 10 at 7:30 a.m. our baby girl was scheduled to arrive. That was a Tuesday. We were supposed to get to the hospital at 5:30 a.m., get all our paperwork straightened out, then walk myself into the operating room and lay down. Well, our baby girl had other plans!
On Friday, July 6, I was busy making the most of my last day of "work." This was the last day I was going to be a stay-at-home mom to an only child. Somehow this made me a little nervous, because my laboring with Levi began on my last day of work at my former job. Could it possibly happen again? Nooo... I mean, I had been experiencing a lot of Braxton Hicks contractions. Seems like my uterus didn't get the memo that it didn't need to practice laboring. That afternoon, while Levi was napping. I was working on my anniversary gift to Andy for our seventh anniversary. Each year I write a letter about our year and turn it into several digital scrapbook pages with pictures. Three typed pages later, I had finished my letter. Man what a year! We started with a one-year-old's birthday party, sold our house, bought a house, and did so much in between. Just reviewing it exhausted me! I ended the letter with "P.S. I won't be proofreading this year's letter because the longer I sit at the desk, the more Braxton Hicks contractions I get." I thought that sitting at the computer and reliving all the crazy events of the year was just making me a little uncomfortable, and as soon as I relaxed a little, the contractions would slow down. But instead, they started to get more uncomfortable. By the time Andy got home at 5:30, they were pretty much painful. At first, I didn't tell him anything was going on. Can we say "denial"??
Eventually I fessed up, and we decided to just keep an eye on things. Well, things started to pick up. I downloaded a contraction timer app on my Kindle Fire, and found that I was contracting for one minute at a time, every three to five minutes. Not only that, but they were becoming more and more painful. I had to stop each time and was losing the ability to talk through them. Uh oh. We put Levi to bed, probably one of the most emotional moments of the night. I read him a story about becoming a big brother and explained to him that we might not be there in the morning, but that Mommom would be and that we would be back. Deep breaths. At this point we call the doctor, she says we can wait an hour or we can come in now. I know that if we go in, we likely won't be leaving without having a baby. I spend a little time semi-freaking out about all the stuff I had planned for our last weekend. Our anniversary celebration. Time with Levi. Taking a bath in my brand new master bathroom. Finishing the last few things on my to-do list. Then the pain took over and I lost interest in freaking out. Andy grabbed my hospital bag packing list that I had already printed out and we began throwing stuff into a suitcase. Thank goodness I had already made that list. The contractions are starting to take over and each time, more and more expletives start flying out of my mouth. I tried to think of something more positive to say, but nope... I turned into a sailor. By the time Andy's sister arrived to stay with Levi, I was "vocalizing" quite loudly on the couch. One big contraction, then I felt this hard snap inside me. I stood up to get in the car, and my water breaks allllll over the floor. Yay for hardwood floors. I apologize to my sister-in-law for leaving her with a mess, and we get into the truck. (The other car is currently at the shop... one more thing that was on our to-do list for the lost weekend.)
On our way to the hospital, the contractions are absolutely miserable. I try making a few phone calls, but with each contraction I chuck the phone in Andy's general direction and try not to be too loud. We get there in record time and I drag myself into the waiting room with a towel between my legs. All dignity lost at this point. Another pregnant lady waiting to be checked in waves me onward ahead of her.
We explain to the nurse that we've already talked to our doctor, we were scheduled for a c-section Tuesday, and she cuts me off... "Why are you having a c-section? Do you want a VBAC?" Lady, now is not the time to question my judgement, I think to myself. All I wanted was for her to check my cervix for dilation because if I was already at 6 or 7 centimeters like I thought I must be, then maybe we'd talk to the doctor. She tries to check me, but apparently everything is still so high up, she can't even reach me. Not a good sign. She calls in another nurse who confirms that I'm barely dilated 2 centimeters. You have got to be kidding me. We talk with the doctor a little more and decide to proceed with our plan to have a c-section.
Meanwhile, I have turned into Wolverine during my contractions. Andy reminds me that my nails are very long. Apparently I've broken skin on his hand. I've also managed to scratch his face and nearly bit his arm. I also attempted to dislocate the thumb of the mean nurse. Oops. They give me some kind of narcotic to "relax" me. I still feel the pain, but I seem to have lost the ability to claw and curse. I think this drug is more for their benefit than for mine!
By 11:30, the operating room and my doctor are ready. I curl up over the edge of the table to receive my epidural and spinal injection. One more big contraction during the procedure (absolute torture to sit still through!) and then my legs start to get warm. They lay me down and things start to go numb. Ahhh, bliss. They continue with the preparation work, draping a curtain between my head and the rest of my body. They lay some sort of warming blow-up tent over my arms to keep me warm since the room is so cold. I have the anesthesiologist check me twice to be sure I'm really, really numb. (With Levi, my epidural wasn't a complete block on my pain and they knocked me out shortly after Levi was born.) I keep asking over and over when Andy will be let into the room, and finally he makes his way in. Just a few minutes later, they warn me that I will feel some big tugging and pressure as they pull the baby out. Sure enough, I feel like a weight is being lifted out of me. In these final moments of my pregnancy, I realize that I will know for sure very soon that I have a daughter. "Is it a girl?" I ask. Yes, it's a girl! The doctor invites Andy to peek over the curtain as she is being pulled out. Instead, he stands and just aims the camera. He actually got a picture of the baby being pulled from my body! She cries like a little goat, and Andy tells me she has dark brown hair. The doctor takes her and immediately brings her around the curtain so I can see her in her natural born state, before she's all cleaned up. For some reason, this moment is really important to me as I memorize the sight of her red, squirmy body. Wendy Harsany Simpson, welcome to the world. It's 12:18 a.m. and she weighs 7 pounds, 6 ounces. She is 20 inches long.
They take Wendy over to be checked out and I'm just elated to have been so aware and awake for her birth. I have told the anesthesiologist that I don't want any more medication that would relax me for the stitching up process. I want to be sure that I'm fully awake once I'm out of recovery and get ahold of Wendy. At this point I finally keep my eyes open. (They have been closed from the time I entered triage until the moment Wendy came out, pretty much.) I feel every tug and pull as the doctor stitches up each of my layers. I hear the nurses counting off the tools with each layer. One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, ten. And so on. It doesn't seem to take very long to put me back together. I later learn that my uterus was so paper thin, that it tore perpendicularly from the cut that the doctor made, as she pulled the baby out. Knowing this bit of information makes me feel even more confident in the decision we made for a repeat c-section.
After I am finished with the surgery, they scoot me off the table onto another bed and wheel me into recovery. I basically twiddle my thumbs for the next hour, waiting and waiting with wide eyes until I can be reunited with Andy and Wendy. Finally it is time. They wheel my bed out of recovery, ram me into a wall on the way out (ouch) and get me to my room. Wendy is wheeled in on her little baby cart and placed into my arms. She's so soft and warm, like a little sleepy puppy. Her hair is so silky and her little feet are so wrinkly. I love her for what she is and for what she may become. I love her for being a little sister and for making me a mother of two. I love her for allowing me to see Andy as the father of a little girl. And most of all, I love her simply because she was once part of me and that thread will never be broken.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
the things people say
As I am in my last week of pregnancy with this baby girl, I thought I'd sum up some of the odd things people like to say to me as a pregnant woman. I find it amusing how there is so little filtered out of people when they are confronted with a pregnant woman!
1. After looking at my size... "is it a boy? No? A girl? Well, maybe she'll be a tomboy."
2. "I figured you were either having twins or were ready to pop!"
3. "well, you are looking good. You haven't dropped yet." says a man after staring ay too intently.
4. "oh you are never going to make it another month. No, really, you won't."
5. "may I?" and then after not waiting for an answer, man begins to poke my popped out belly button through my shirt. Awkward!!!
Oh people, they sure are amusing sometimes. ;)
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
the baby girl's dresser
This is something I've always wanted to do... take a piece of furniture from Craigslist and transform it. We bought this dresser for $45 off Craigstlist back in March.
It was really solid wood with this stripey pattern on the tops and sides.
First I removed all the hardware and filled the holes with wood filler.
Then I had to sand. Yay for my new orbital sander I got from my brother and sister-in-law for my birthday! Face mask, eye goggles and ear plugs, oh my!
Here's a sanding-in-progress shot.
The little sander collected a LOT of dust in its little vacuum bag that I emptied into a tin.
Then we had to prime. Two coats of primer. (My mom had to do this part because of the fumes. Used a foam roller and did two coats.)
Priming almost done.
Then onto painting. I used my favorite Benjamin Moore Natura paint because it has zero VOCs and I'm allowed to work with it. The color is Sweet Butter 171.
Then I positioned these bird wall decals I got for $24 on Amazon. I had extras that I even gave away afterwards. I thought about putting them up on the walls, but I already have plans for the walls and as my mom said, you don't want too much of a good thing.
Bird decals are placed, then we did knobs and...
Ta da!!! The dresser is done and in the nursery. I love how pink looks with yellow.
lots of work in progress
I find myself starting up one project, realizing I have another project to do and starting up another without finishing the first. This week I am trying to tie up some loose ends! Here's a list of some of the works in progress:
- baby girl's refinished dresser (it's all done except for getting drawer dividers! I will take and post pictures soon)
- baby girl's wall art thing (hard to describe, but I think it'll look really cute. it'll definitely look cuter on the wall than on my dining room table!)
- hanging up a coat rack in the hallway to keep my diaper bag and purse
- hanging up a few pictures around the house and moving the rest of the framed artwork to the basement, out of the way from the dining and living rooms
- finishing cleaning out the garage... all we need is one more shelving unit to put a few more things on. it's so nice to have a home for the new mini-van!
My running lists of things to do have definitely been getting a workout. I have about five more weeks of nesting mode to get things done before the baby arrives. And guess what? If it doesn't get done before the baby arrives, I'll still be able to get them done at some point! Shocker... I have to remember that.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
telling stories
I think we are entering a really awesome new stage with Levi. Suddenly it seems he's really into recalling memories of events that have happened either earlier during the day or a few days ago. And using his limited little vocabulary, he thoughtfully tells as much as he can. I love it!
We have been enjoying this mostly at dinnertime when daddy is home and we talk about what we did that day. At first, I was doing all the talking.
Me: "So we went to the grocery store..."
Levi pipes up: "Pay!"
Me: "That's right, we did pay at the grocery store! What else did we do there?"
Levi thinks about it and looks around: "'Nack." (Translation: Snack, with no S since he hasn't gotten his S sound yet.)
Me: "That's right, you did eat a snack!"
And yes, I do speak with exclamation points. I think it's my favorite piece of punctuation.
Anyway, we are going through a bathroom remodel project, just in the early phases. Yesterday we had one guy do an estimate. He talked a lot, measured the walls and then took pictures. So today, as we are waiting for another estimate man to come, I begin...
Me: "A man is going to come look at mommy and daddy's bathroom very soon."
Levi: "Wall!"
Me: "That's right, he is probably going to measure the walls. What else is he going to do?"
Levi thinks about it, gets a big grin on his face: "Pictures!"
Me: "That's right! He will take some pictures."
Imagine Levi's delight when the man actually did come, measure the walls and take pictures. He will likely also tell this story to daddy over dinner.
I love that Levi seems to enjoy conversation. One of the very first reasons I fell in love with his daddy was because he liked to talk so much. It's so nice to see this trait develop in our little boy, too.
We have been enjoying this mostly at dinnertime when daddy is home and we talk about what we did that day. At first, I was doing all the talking.
Me: "So we went to the grocery store..."
Levi pipes up: "Pay!"
Me: "That's right, we did pay at the grocery store! What else did we do there?"
Levi thinks about it and looks around: "'Nack." (Translation: Snack, with no S since he hasn't gotten his S sound yet.)
Me: "That's right, you did eat a snack!"
And yes, I do speak with exclamation points. I think it's my favorite piece of punctuation.
Anyway, we are going through a bathroom remodel project, just in the early phases. Yesterday we had one guy do an estimate. He talked a lot, measured the walls and then took pictures. So today, as we are waiting for another estimate man to come, I begin...
Me: "A man is going to come look at mommy and daddy's bathroom very soon."
Levi: "Wall!"
Me: "That's right, he is probably going to measure the walls. What else is he going to do?"
Levi thinks about it, gets a big grin on his face: "Pictures!"
Me: "That's right! He will take some pictures."
Imagine Levi's delight when the man actually did come, measure the walls and take pictures. He will likely also tell this story to daddy over dinner.
I love that Levi seems to enjoy conversation. One of the very first reasons I fell in love with his daddy was because he liked to talk so much. It's so nice to see this trait develop in our little boy, too.
Monday, May 21, 2012
David and Goliath
One of Levi's favorite stories from his rhyme bible is the one about David, the scrawny guy who defeats Goliath the giant with God's help and a well-aimed rock to the forehead. In fact, ask Levi what Goliath says when David hits him with a rock. "Ohhhhhgggg," he'll say, with a scrunched up face.
Well, Levi has experienced his own encounter with a rock. This rock, in fact:
This rock is one of his friend's favorite rocks to play with from the rock garden. This friend plays gently, spinning the rock around on the pavement. Levi decides the rock needs to go back into the garden, but instead drops it on his big toe. It took a while for the pain of the boo boo to set in and was exacerbated by Mommy's attempts to put Neosporin and an Elmo band-aid on it. Mommy's interference set him to a-hollering.
Apparently this event has really stuck with Levi. He continues to point to his toe and retell the story as only a 22-month-old can.
Levi, while pointing to toe: "Toe."
Mommy: "What happened to your toe?"
Levi: "Boo boo."
Mommy: "You got a boo boo on your toe?"
Levi: "Rock."
Mommy: "A rock gave you a boo boo on your toe?"
Levi: "Uh huh."
Levi, thinking about it a moment: "Ahh-mohh." (Translation: Then you put that stupid Elmo band-aid on me and made it worse.)
I'm not sure if this ordeal makes him David or Goliath, but I love my son.
Well, Levi has experienced his own encounter with a rock. This rock, in fact:
 |
| (rock near Levi's foot) |
Apparently this event has really stuck with Levi. He continues to point to his toe and retell the story as only a 22-month-old can.
Levi, while pointing to toe: "Toe."
Mommy: "What happened to your toe?"
Levi: "Boo boo."
Mommy: "You got a boo boo on your toe?"
Levi: "Rock."
Mommy: "A rock gave you a boo boo on your toe?"
Levi: "Uh huh."
Levi, thinking about it a moment: "Ahh-mohh." (Translation: Then you put that stupid Elmo band-aid on me and made it worse.)
I'm not sure if this ordeal makes him David or Goliath, but I love my son.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)