November, 2004
Newbie Parents

When Kai was born, it was like a Royal Wedding. Cards and gifts flooded in, everyone turned out to see our little man, and cameras flashed in every direction. Now we all now what has happened to royal weddings after the initial rah-rah has died down, and so it was with our new baby. Jed and I found ourselves floundering a bit (well, more than a bit), and wondering why two grown-ups with college degrees and worldly experiences under their belts, couldn't manage to calm one little baby.
He was a great baby, only he cried a lot. We could quite competently feed him, change him, bathe him, and cuddle him, but sometimes we simply could not soothe him. And we had had no previous hint of just how distressing that could be. He'd go from being a content little bundle, to suddenly wailing on and on like a dumped teenage girl.
When I was still about 8 months pregnant, I'd seen a pediatrician on TV who claimed he could calm any crying baby. I'd jotted down his name, and when Kai was about a week old, I scoured the library and found his book. It helped a bit. Then, as if he was telepathically connected to his reading audience and knew we needed a bit of personal assistance, he scheduled an appearance in our area. So Jed and I bundled our 2-week-old Kai into his infant-carrier-come-car-seat and headed off to listen to what Dr. Harvey Karp had to say about calming crying babies.
Funny thing happened just after the good Dr. got up on stage and started his talk... we couldn't hear him over our crying baby! So our little man made his public stage debut at the age of 2 weeks. Dr. Karp used Kai as his guinea-pig, demonstrating how to calm a wailing newborn. If you ever run into the problem, buy his book. He's really very good. "The Happiest Baby On The Block" is the title, and he has another for toddlers (will need that soon).
In a nutshell, he talked about babies really needing an extra 3-months in the womb, but the delivery being a tad difficult if that were to happen, thus we "push 'em out prematurely" at 9 months, and should then create a womb-like environment for the next 3 months. The sudden reality-shift for our little guy after his delivery had left him unhappy, and needing a little mummy-tummy-simulation. Dr. Karp recommended 5 steps to do this:
1. Swaddle Involves wrapping the baby tightly, like a burrito.
2. Side or stomach Laying babies on their backs stimulates their falling reflexes. In turn, they can't sleep. Just have to be VERY watchful for a clear airway on their side or stomach.
3. Shhhh. Repeated in the baby's ear, like Mummy's heartbeat and rushing pulse.
4. Swing Motion, as opposed to dance-style, although the latter does a great job, too.
5. Suck. A thumb, finger, or dummy (pacifier) is the final soothing touch.

We found this worked pretty well. Our main challenge with Mr. 2-weeks-old-but-that-doesn't-mean-you-can-boss-me-around was swaddling him well enough that he little flailing hands didn't sneak out of the wrap and undo it all. For a tiny thing with a floppy head, our baby sure was a little Houdini. Jed mastered the baby-burrito wrap, and I called on him often to re-do my wraps after Kai proved he could outwit, outplay & outsmart me.

The cry-baby stage (for those unlucky souls who encounter it) usually ends at around 12 weeks. That was definitely true for us, and the closer we got to Christmas, the more sanity returned to our little household. Kai was happier and so were we.

All I want for Christmas is 5 hours sleep...
Peta

October 4, 2004

Welcome to the world, Kai.

I always thought it was the Expectant father who was supposed to pace the hospital corridors, not the mother.

Because the hospital policy was to only admit women in labour when their cervix was dilated 5 cm, I had to "kill time" until my cervix reached that magical number. Hmmm. Was something wrong? I'd really had the perfect pregnancy up until then. Absolutely no complications, and yet here I was in so much pain I was throwing up with my contractions, but they wouldn't admit me. Turns out that the baby was bearing down a little to the front of my cervix, instead of at the opening. So my contractions were painful, yet not as productive as they should have been. Midnight came and went... 1 a.m.... 2 a.m... 3 a.m... 4 a.m... until finally, around 4.30 a.m., the nurse wrote up my 4 cm dilation as 5 cm (God bless her soul!), and admitted me.

'Xcuse the pun, but I won't labour through all the details of the next 14 and a half hours. I will share that I was really, really, really determined to avoid all pain relief, but 26 hours into my labour, I reached my limits, and reluctantly asked for an epidural. It was a good decision as it turned out, although I was so disappointed with myself at the time. After the epidural, the pain of contractions was reduced so much I actually slept for a couple of hours. It was great to get some strength back with that cat-nap, and to be able to enjoy the rest of my labour, and the birth of my son. I'm sure I wouldn't have without it, so although I beat myself up for a little while, I'm so glad I opted for pain relief.

Kai came along at 7:14 p.m. on Monday, October 4th. So, from eating Chinese Saturday night, to beginning labour 10 a.m. Sunday morning, through finally being admitted to the labour-ward Monday morning, he joined us Monday night. It was a long haul. But worth every minute! And yes, I will do it again in a heart-beat, and can't wait for more babies.

Burned into my very soul, are the gurgly, chirpy, "little birdy" new-baby noises he made as he was examined and cleaned up immediately after birth. I expected the classic wailing, but he didn't cry at all; he just seemed delighted to have made it, and the sounds from him were the single cutest, most endearing, delightful noises I have ever heard.

So that was how we "met" our son, Kai Cruz.

2004... a very good year!

Peta

Sept-Oct 2004

Great Expectations and Chinese Food

Was I really that big?

At nine months, for the first time during my pregnancy, I finally felt ready for a baby. Maybe I had just been enjoying my pregnancy too much. Strangers open doors, offer seats, smile, help out in any way they can. It was so nice getting the "princess treatment", and I really could have enjoyed that for a lot longer. Then there was the bond with the baby already growing. The warm, fuzzy feeling all those continuous kicks and rolls and hiccups give you, knowing that your baby's happy and active in there.

We were well set up by the middle of September (baby was due Oct. 4th). We had the nursery decked out with everything we needed, and probably a few things we didn't. And then right before my due date (October 2nd, to be exact) I remember telling Jed, for the first time, that I was ready. Bring it on. I had been looking forward to having this little Siacor on the outside, rather than on the inside, and to finding out if we had a baby boy or a baby girl joining our household, but the whole labour thing was a bit scary to me. However, as I said, something changed for me on October 2nd, and that was why I got Jed to order Chinese food.

He headed down to "Bamboo Bamboo" (owner with a stutter, perhaps?), and brought back a Chinese feast for two. Yum!!! That was the best damn Chinese I've ever eaten. And eat, I did. I put away more than Jed. It really was so delicious.

Now, since that Saturday night, we've ordered the same dishes, from the same restaurant, and they've been good, but they've never been as good as they were 48 hours before Kai was born. That's my version. Jed reckons the food's been about the same. So there must be some magical factor involved with pregnant women who are close to labour, and Chinese food. That's why I'd asked him to go and pick up Chinese in the first place.

A fellow marine at work told Jed about the magical labour-inducing powers of Chinese food. It had been passed on to him and his wife by another couple, and it had worked for both of their children; Mum ate Chinese; babies came... twice. I hadn't given it much credit (you hear so many stories when you're pregnant!), and I'd told Jed that I was finally ready to get on with things, so we'd better eat Chinese food, pretty-much jokingly. Just as a sign of my bravery, and a little celebration of my readiness and "bring it on" state of mind at last.

It worked. Saturday night's delicious Chinese feast was followed by Sunday morning's queasiness and cramping, and general feeling of being "a bit off-colour". We cancelled our days' plans (can't think for the life of me what we were going to do that day), and I just spent the morning on the sofa, watching TV. By noon, I was pretty sure the cramps I was getting were baby-related, and wondering if this was "real labour" (race to the hospital to have a baby) or "false labour" (race to the hospital to look like a pair of idiots).

By 2 pm I was thinking "real labour". It was getting pretty painful. By 6 pm I couldn't sit, or stand, or lie, when the cramping (by then I was starting to say "contractions") came. Walking helped, though. So I walked through each contraction, and phoned the labour ward at the hospital, who reassured me they absolutely did not want to see me unless they contractions were regular, and 2 minutes apart. 7 pm... 8 pm... 9 pm... painful contractions had me pacing our apartment every 3 - 4 minutes. Finally, at 10 pm, they sped up a bit, and were coming at 2 to 2 and a half minutes apart. So we did the big movie routine and grabbed the pre-packed overnight bag, jumped in the car, and raced to the... supermarket.

I hadn't had a drop of alcohol from the day I found out I was pregnant, and there was no way I was going to miss out on a champagne toast when we had our new babe in arms. So we stopped at the supermarket, raced in (contraction in the isle), grabbed a bottle of Moet & Chandon (yum!), paid for it (contraction at the checkout; checkout-lady concerned, then surprised, then amused, as we explained where we were going and why we needed champagne), and headed to the car, and to the hospital.

With 2-minute-apart contractions that I'd been walking through in the apartment, the car-ride was no fun. Just sitting, and not being able to stretch out or pace around, for the 50-minute drive... ah... no fun! But it went surprisingly fast, and it seemed only 15 minutes later that we arrived. Maybe Jed was driving a little faster than he let on.

Around 11 pm we checked in at the labour ward reception desk. A quick exam, and we were told that yes, I was in "real labour" (no kiddin'), and no, I couldn't be admitted yet. I'd have to pace the hospital, or go home. Now that's just not what a mother-to-be wants to hear when she's:

a) had her Chinese food

b) gone through 13 hours of contractions already

c) come to the hospital when they're 2 minutes apart, just like agreed

and d) got her bottle of Moet, all ready for the big event.

I was still 20 hours from meeting my little man face to face. If you've hung in there reading this so far, you're probably

a) a woman, and

b) thinking of having a baby.

Please check out my next post for the "main event". I feel like I've dragged this one out a bit much. It was a great experience for Jed and I, and we want to share it, and also record it for our own memory-jogging later (I do love "The Notebook"), but at the same time, not bore our friends to death.

Here's cheers to great Chinese, and Moet & Chandon.

Peta

Welcome to our little family website.
We're going to start off backwards, by leaping into a little virtual time machine and back-tracking to Kai's birth just over a year ago, then winding the gears forward to today (except that by then it will be tomorrow).
No Darleks in sight? Good, then, let's leap into the phone box... (any fellow Dr. Who fans out there??? No?? Then what I wrote will make absolutley no sense whatsoever)