A Baby Story

Like that classic Calvin and Hobbes anthology, "the days are just packed", and I'm already forgetting the details of Oliver's first days. (Side note: Calvin was one of my top baby names, as I've always loved Calvin and Hobbes, until Adam informed me that there is already another famous Calvin Johnson, aka Megatron. Darn those prolific Johnsons!)

Anyway, here is what I remember. This is a long post, so grab a cup of coffee and settle in.

Part I: The Delivery

These photos were taken on Saturday, October 19, the day before Oliver's birth. Adam was out of town at a family funeral. My OB had strongly advised me not to travel, so I stayed close to home. I had a feeling that I was going to deliver that weekend, although I didn't have any sense of urgency about it. I did spend the morning washing baby clothes and picking up around the house, but that wore me out and I took a nap at noon. I was awakened with cramps at around 1:30, but they were so mild that I just brushed them off. I did, however, finally get around to packing a hospital bag. 

When Adam returned home at 3:30, I encouraged him to install the car seat. I neglected to mention to him that I was having cramps. No need to stress both of us out. Installing the car seat was stressful enough. As it turns out, the Corolla does not exactly make the best family car for two tall people and a baby. Adam can't even put his seat back with the car seat installed, although our practice bear doesn't seem to mind. 

I had cramps/contractions all afternoon, every 15-30 minutes apart for hours. By dinner, they were fairly regular and maybe only 10 minutes apart. Adam wanted to pick up food for dinner, and I got in the car with him, but immediately got right back out. I just did not feel like traveling away from home. I did, however, feel like eating soup for dinner, so that is what I did.

By 9:00 that night, the contractions were 5 minutes apart or less, although they only lasted 30 seconds or so. I figured it was easier to hang out here at home than deal with the hospital. By 11:00 p.m., I called the BabyLine to ask if I was in labor. Why yes, yes I was. I still decided to take my chances at home, where I could move around as I needed to. Contractions were now 3-4 minutes apart or sometimes less. Each one only lasted 30-40 seconds, though, and the BabyLine nurse said I should go to the hospital when they lasted 60-90 seconds each. So I tried to get comfortable as best I could. At 11:30, I called to Adam for the waste bin, and he almost made it before I threw up - literally - everywhere. That took care of whatever dinner I had left, and now I was entering a zone of weakness. I still remained at home, alternating between showers, stretches, vomiting, and just holding up the walls. I was exhausted, and I wanted to sleep, but that was out of the question. I continued to throw up through the worst of the contractions, although each contraction was still lasting less than a minute. (The stopwatch feature on Adam's iPhone Touch was cycling well over 100 contractions by now and that's not counting my contraction counter method from earlier that afternoon, the Post-it note.) At 1:30 a.m., I called the BabyLine again, but when I realized I couldn't breathe and talk at the same time, I knew it was finally time to go the hospital. Adam told the caller that we were on our way.

I like simple goals!

We arrived by 2:00 a.m., but we were not the first ones that night. The full moon and change in barometric pressure likely lead to a perfect storm of babies that weekend and all the nursing suites were full. On the positive side, my OB and our pediatrician were both on call that weekend, which Adam and I took as a fantastic sign of good fortune. After checking in, the nurses kindly asked us about our (well, my) pain management preferences. Truthfully, we (I) hadn't given it much thought. Everyone had always warned us that things can change, so you shouldn't be too rigid in your plans. We took that to heart. The contractions were strong enough that I had to cease all activity (no talking, moving, touching, or even breathing) through each one. The real killer, though, was the lack of sleep and energy. Except for my nap, I had been awake for almost 20 hours and I had no food or water left in my system. I was exhausted and I had a long way to go. I was dilated to 3-4 cm when I arrived at the hospital, and I promptly threw up again as soon as the nurses got me settled in. We opted for the epidural.

These are the early, easy contractions. At some later hour, they started going off the chart, but I didn't care by that point.

I'm not going to lie. Getting the epidural was the best decision I made that night. We stayed at home way too long. I was mentally exhausted, physically worn out, incapable of doing the difficult job of labor without a rest. The anesthesiologist lived nearby and by 4:00 a.m., he had everything hooked up. I felt immediate relief and my entire body relaxed. Contrary to what I had assumed, I was still able to move my body, bend my legs, turn my hips, wiggle my toes... I was also able to take a nap. Sweet sleep! That was the best nap I ever had! I went to sleep shortly after the epidural went in at 7 cm and woke up fully dilated at 10 cm. Amazing. Now it was time to push.

For some odd reason, my epidural bag sprung a leak that the nurses fixed with tape.
I made Adam keep a close eye on how much medication I had remaining, just in case!

My water never broke naturally, so the doctor broke it at 10 cm. I started pushing around 7:30 a.m. and at 9:11 a.m., little Oliver Adam was born into this world.

He was pink and screaming and so alert, although he calmed down quickly when I held him. I couldn't believe his big, bright eyes; they never left my face. For what it's worth, he scored a perfect 10 on his 5 and 10 minute Apgar test (although that test is obviously not an indication of perfect health; see Part II).

Yes, I am aware that he looks strikingly similar to a young Lord Voldemort.
He's much less interested in world domination, though.

Adam got to observe all the newborn firsts: bath, weight, measurements. Then I got him back, happy and clean.               

Sorry, baby! It's a maple leaf for you.

We spent the next day, Monday, just trying to learn the ropes of new parenthood (while also being continuously monitored by hospital personnel). 

Look at those giant paws!

We ran into a bit of a hurdle near the end of our second day. Oliver was not feeding well, even with hospital assistance, and we had to resort to feeding him breast-milk/colostrum via a syringe. He could only take in 3-5 mL at a time. Very frustrating and nerve-wracking to two new parents, but what could we do?

The hospital sent us home Tuesday. We were understandably still worried about his feeding, but there didn't seem to be a reason to keep him as a patient at this point.

The nurses gave me a memento of my contractions, just for fun. Good thing I don't know how to read these things, because that one at the end doesn't look pleasant!

Time to bundle up and head home!

His first outfit, although newborn-size, did not allow his little legs to fit into our car seat. So after much wrangling, we headed to outfit number two and settled in.

This is the only photo we have from Oliver's first official night at home. Truthfully, that night did not go well. He couldn't sleep, wouldn't eat, and it was hard to tell who was in more distress - baby or mother. Fortunately, we had our first pediatrician appointment the following morning.

Part II: I Am Trying to Break Your Heart

Conclusion: newborn jaundice. Not the "he just needs a little bit of sun" variety, either. More like, he needs to be in a fully-enclosed photo-therapy light box incubator for 48 hours variety. This was so hard for Adam and me. We weren't even used to our little one yet, and now he was back at the hospital, all alone in a box. We couldn't hold him, we could barely touch him, and I could only have him out to feed for 30 minutes at a time. Of course, due to the jaundice, he wasn't eating well and so we graduated from the syringe to a Haberman feeder. I don't know how many times I cried that day, although Oliver took everything in stride. He's a very chill little dude.

The more skin exposed to the light, the faster the therapy works, and the sooner we could go home again. Adam made sure to speed up the process where we could.

A rare moment with the lights turned off. Those dark, staring eyes just killed me. I hated, hated having to cover them up with his little foam shades again. 

A co-worker of Adam's told us that if this experience was going to break our hearts, then we were in for a long ride. Children are just a series of heartbreaks as they grow and we needed to learn how to deal. Already my heart felt too big for my body. 

It took us days to realize that a beautiful fall change of seasons was just outside our window.

The tide turned when I caught Oliver lounging like everything was just a day at the beach. Adam had gone home to shower and pick up more supplies, and he thought I had posed Oliver like this. I assure you, this is all Oliver's doing. Can you tell who he takes after though? 

Finally! We could take him out of the box. Forty-eight hours and five heel-sticks later, his bilirubin levels were finally in range to go home. As long as he continued to eat and poop well, his levels would continue to improve. (Pooping helps remove the excess bilirubin from his system, so we needed to make sure he was feeding well and eliminating as best we could.)

Outfit number three. I didn't know we would need so many newborn outfits, but I'm glad we had them! (Also, isn't that the cutest little baby hat! He has been wearing it constantly, thanks to my creative and crafty co-worker.)

Part III: Homecoming (Round Two)!

Pickles officially greets the newest member of our clan. He's all marked up now, so we're good. Pickles has been handling everything better than I expected. I can't say they're best buddies yet, but there is a healthy fear and respect toward Oliver on her end, so I suppose they'll get along just fine in time.

This is more like it! We made it home just in time for the fall colors. 

Honestly, even though we had to unexpectedly return to the hospital, the extra days helped us fine-tune our skills. Adam is a pro at burping and diaper changes, and I finally figured out breast-feeding. It is not easy, and we had a few more scares along the way, but we've met every hurdle and jumped over each one. We're easing into week three now and things are so much better. There are a few more hurdles upcoming in our path, but we'll all be OK.

This baby is so sweet! You couldn't find two happier parents if you searched the whole wide world.