Tuesday, September 28, 2010

A year ago today


A year ago today I woke up at about 9:30 and felt funny.  I was two days overdue.  I really had to pee.  I heaved myself out of bed (literally) and waddled my way to the bathroom.  Then I peed myself.  At least, that is what I thought at first, it was just a little trickle.

After about ten minutes in the bathroom, I still wasn't sure.  I yelled for Andy.

"I think my water broke." 

"What do you mean think?  How do you not know?"

"It's just a trickle.  It stops and starts."

So we waited.  I wasn't having any contractions.  I hadn't even "dropped" yet so I was not expecting my water to break.  After about an hour I was convinced enough that my water broke to call the labor line. 

My birth plan was to labor as long as possible at home before going to the hospital, to skip the drugs, and to trust my body, because the way I see it I was made for this.  Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans.

Fast-forward six hours later to 4:00 pm, still not even a hint of contractions; 20% effaced and zero cm dialated.  My midwife suggested I try a low dose of pitocin to start things going.  After thinking about it and talking to Andy we decided to try a very low dose, but I was insistent on no pain meds or other drgs.  I was worried that if I didn't start having contractions soon, I would start having contractions at midnight and I'd get no sleep and have to labor the next day (and possibly more) on little to no sleep.

Well, a low dose of pitocin was more than enough and by 5:00 pm I was having strong contractions every 2 minutes.  At 8:00 pm they checked me again and I was maybe 50% effaced and 0 cm dialated.  The contractions felt really strong to me.  Up until this point I had been trying to walk around and sit on the yoga ball, but the baby monitor kept losing the baby's heart-rate so I was told to stay in bed.  

Once they had me strapped into the bed, they were still having trouble tracking the heartrate.  They decided to put in an internal heart rate monitor (also not on my plan) and something to measure the strength of the contractions, which were now coming every minute.

The good news was that the contractions were really strong.  Like transistion strong.  Horray.  The bad news was baby's heart rate kept dropping.  My midwife told me I was doing a good job and that giving how well I was tolerating the pain, she thought I would be able to keep the rest of my birth plan in place.  

Unfortunately, baby had other ideas.  His heart rate kept dropping. An army of nurses and midwifes stormed into my room every ten minutes or so to roll me this way or that and give me an oxygen mask.  Thinking back, it was a scary situation but I wasn't worried at the time.  I was in a very zen-like state, totally focusing on my body and I just knew everything would be alright.  

At about 10:00 pm, the midwife checked me agian.  I had made no.progress.

Wait, what?  I've been having strong contractions for 6 hours now, and I'm not even a centemeter dialated?

Maybe "a dimple" my midwife told me, trying to be helpful.  She told me she'd be back in a minute.  I told Andy that I was getting tired, and at this rate I would not be able to make it.  I wanted the drugs.  

When the midwife came back, she had the doctor with her.  They gave me the talk.  Baby was in distress.  I was making no progress.  Water broke over 12 hours ago.  I would be having this baby very soon, but not the way I wanted to.

I didn't argue.  I knew it was the right thing.  I tried.  I tried to work with my body, to breath through the pain.  I stuck to my guns.  But, sticking to my guns was no longer reasonable.  My baby needed me.  My baby needed me to do what was best for him, to put him first.  So I did.

Then:
 

Now:




It turns out, Oliver was kind of askew (not completely transverse, but tilted with his ear, rather than the top of his head, on my cervix) and was not putting pressure on my cervix.  Which is why I didn't dialate.  I also had a "thin" or "weal" umbicicle cord, which was one of the reasons his heart rate kept dropping.

Andy was the first to see him.  Andy told me he was a "he" and that we had our Oliver.  My sister was the second to hold him, when Andy was walking him up to the special care nursery.  Oliver is so lucky to have so many people who love him so much.

I really struggled for a while.  I felt like I was less of a woman.  Not really a member of the mom-club.  I felt like I took the easy way out.  Like I ordered a baby off of e-bay and had it express delivered.  But, Oliver and I quickly fell into a routine, and I learned to respond to his cries. 

It is not the labor and delivery I wanted, but in the end it is our actions in raising a child that makes us moms, not how we brought them into the world.

Happy Happy Happy First Birthday Oliver!

You are so loved.


Sunday, September 19, 2010

More time with Grandpa

Oliver has had a lot of Grandparent time lately.  Both with my dad, and with Andy's parents.  A couple of weekends ago, my dad came down and we took Oliver to a local park to play.  He was just starting to take a couple of teetering steps at this point, but he sure wanted to go, go, go.

Here is a picture re-cap:


After all that fun playing in the fresh air Oliver was worn out and fell asleep on the way home.  Grandpa got him out of the car.  Oliver opened his eyes for a second, looked at Grandpa, and then snuggled in to continue his nap.  I'm not sure who was more happy about it!


Wednesday, September 15, 2010

No words

I tried to think of something clever, but sometimes you have to let the picture speak for itself.


He is so silly.  Yesterday our daycare provider told me that Oliver always has them cracking up.  He loves making people laugh, and the fact that he knows he can makes it even more funny!



Friday, September 10, 2010

Thursday, September 9, 2010

The one that got away

If you know me or my family you know we are big baseball fans.  Big as in Fan with a capital "F."  We've been to a handful of games at the new stadium, my sister and I even went to opening day (which was AWESOME!). 

On our most recent trip to Target Field my dad's friend Ken came along.  It was his first trip to Target Field.  I was excited to show him Tony O's Cuban Sandwiches which is named after Cuban Baseball Great Tony Oliva who played his entire career with the Twins.  I was pointing out the stand (yum) when my dad said "There he is! The man himself!" Sure enough, there was Tony Oliva!  Probably one of the nicest, most humble professional athletes to ever live.

Now, for Twins fans like us this was akin to a left-winger spotting Bill Clinton, or a child spotting Santa in a month other than December.

We. were.  star-struck.

Tony was shaking hands and smiling for the camera with fans.  He seemed almost bashful about all the fuss being made over him.  On the way out of the house that day I had grabbed our small point-and-shoot, so I told my dad and sister to go say hi.  They worked their way up and shook hands with Tony Oliva.  When they turned around to take a picture, I felt like I was looking at a giddy 12 year old version of my dad!

I pushed the button to take a picture.

!!Battery fail!!

The batteries were too low to take a picture.  Before I could whip out my cell phone some woman ushered my dad and sister out of the way to get a picture of her kids.  The look of disappointment on my dad and sisters face when I told them I didn't get the picture was heart-breaking. 
As I write this I'm getting upset agian.  Sniff sniff.

The amazing thing about the Twins Organization is that they are able to recruit genuine and loyal guys (Joe Mauer, anyone?) and I am sure there will be more opportunities to see Tony Oliva at Target Field, especially since we are getting season tickets next year!

For now Dad, Susan, this will have to do:


Tony Oliva
Opening Day at Target Field
April 12, 2010

I can't wait to bring this guy to a Twins game next year!


Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Oliver. Walking. Gulp.

Oliver has something he wants to show you.


In just a handful of days he's gotten so much better.  Its so fun to watch him develop his confidence, learn to balance and be amazed at what he can do.  This is such a fun time.  Here is another shot of him tonight.  Clearly I forgot that you can't "rotate" a video.  Cute anyway.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Mama's little helper

All this time home with Papa this summer has taught Oliver some good habits.  For example, he helps with the dishes.


And when I say "help" I mean that he spreads the clean food storage containers all over my ... ahem... not so clean floors.

He also helps with the mopping. 


And by "help" I mean that he pulls it down and drags it around the kitchen.

As for those dirty floors.  The way I see it, the fact that I know they need to be cleaned, and have gotten the mop out counts for something.  Right?  Right?

By the way, I absolutely cannot believe that Oliver is 11 months old.  Eleven?  Where did the last 10 go?

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

This kills me.

Seriously.  When he makes this face... I die.  And kisses ensue!