Originally uploaded by Sacha Digi
We’ve pretty much been living on cloud nine since Zivia was born. So different than when Finn was born, so much softer of a landing. But all things must come to an end. M’s milk is in, her breasts are swollen, Z-girl is having a hard time latching because of the engorgement. We’re tired.
Sucks. Or in Zivia’s case, doesn’t suck because she keeps falling asleep.
It’s good having birthed because I know that this too will come to and end and things will be okay. In the meantime, it’s overwhelming and maddening, and all those crazy hormones don’t help. So I will bake an apple crisp and try to keep my girl sane over the next couple days.
When in doubt, feed.
Megan is still processing the birth, but I can give my side of things.
In the beginning….
It started on Saturday at 1850 when Megan’s water broke. I believe the direct quote was “either I just peed myself of my water broke”. This was a little nerve-wracking because my labor started the same way and we are still a bit burnt over that one.
Megan had actually been contracting regularly for days but she’d been doing a good job of ignoring it. We called all parties involved (midwife, doula) and headed out for a late dinner out, our last as a family of three. We came home, put Finn to bed, then cleaned the house. Finally at 2300 we decided to try to get some sleep.
Megs was contracting too much to sleep and worried about getting her parents up here to watch Finn, and my thoughts were racing, so we ended up back up, pacing around the living room, me contemplating making a coffee cake. Nothing like a little stress to trigger a baking urge. We timed the contractions. They were short, ranging from as long as seven minutes to as short as three minutes. We called our midwife again who said GET SOME REST, then decided to lie down for an hour before calling our doula again.
The time we slept.
We woke up in the morning with stalled labor. Okay. No, NOT OKAY. Well, okay because I finally make my coffee cake. But still, we have to get this labor started. Megan’s parents showed up to watch Finn. Our neighbor is an acupuncturist and was home, so she came over and did an induction treatment. We headed out for an hour and a half walk. Then thirty minutes of nipple stim later, contractions are back and very regular. It’s the afternoon now. We call our doula to bring over her tens unit. I notice as she’s applying the pads that Megan seems to be contracting quite frequently, but she’s doing really well. Our doula leaves, the inlaws put Finn to bed and we head out again with the intent to walk at the mall for a bit. Well no, let’s go to Alki Beach. Wait, we’ll just stop at Metropolitan Market on the way. And this is how it goes…
Megan contracts in the cheese department. Down the aisle. In the produce section. And the dairy section. At the checkout stand. These seem to be coming pretty frequently. We decide that maybe we’re just going to go back home and skip the walk. We get home and start timing the contractions. They’re every two to three minutes. We call our midwife, our doula, and it’s Go Time. This is at about 2100.
The Birth Center
Not much to tell here. Megan rocked labor. Her Hypnobabies WORKED. I just remember her lying wrapped in a blanket as she transitioned and she was just relaxing and breathing, and it was amazing that she was in TRANSITION. She had this amazing sense of humor the entire time, even when things got rough during pushing she was cracking jokes here and there. She got into the tub and started pushing, and this is where things started to become more challenging. She was exhausted and that baby wanted to stay inside as long as possible. I was really tired, the room was hot, and I started to panic a little. I kept thinking that we had no options at this point. It was either an emergent ride in an ambulance to the hospital for a c-section or this baby coming out vaginally, and that was proving to be really challenging. Megan looked so tired, resting between pushes, barely able to talk, her eyes rimmed in black circles. They cathed her to get some urine out of her bladder and we end up on the bed. That’s when her determination kicked in and she started working HARD, gritting her teeth with each push, bearing down with all her strength, occasionally yelling “GET OUT”. I kept watching the head show more and more, then it finally popped out with a massive push, body on the second push and the baby was whipped up to Megan’s chest. And the first thing Megan says is…
“it looks like a girl!”
She was right.
It was such a different experience than Finn. It wasn’t that same overwhelming moment, it was a little more matter-of-fact. Baby. Okay. I felt a strange disconnect. Where my connection with Finn, and I think Megan’s as well, has always been strong and intense, it just wasn’t quite there with Zivia. Then I held her for a little bit and this kid, well, she loves me. She really does. She calms down when I hold her. And I love her. It’s amazing. She’ll never be Finn because no one can, but she’ll be our Zivia, and she’s pretty awesome.
More about the sibling adjustment, which is rough. Now it’s time to feed my family.
Originally uploaded by Sacha Digi
she’s here…I’ll post the birth story when I have time. Megan is wrecked but doing well. Zivia is sweet and we’re totally shocked that she’s a GIRL. Wow.
Time for bed.
well, my wife is as big as a house! Life is busy as we get ready for Beanie to make his/her appearance.
Three blew in with a vengeance and M. and I were left spinning. Wowza.
Something I’ve found about parenting is to make it successful I really need to lower my expectations. Things go awry when what I expect is something Finn is not capable of doing. The problem is that as he gets older he actually is becoming more capable. So it becomes YOU PICKED UP YOUR TOYS LAST WEEK WHY CAN’T YOU DO IT RIGHT NOW????? Then I walk out of the room as he dumps his blocks on the floor for the third time that day.
Ah, the not so magical age of three.
The reality is that he just can’t. There is no single moment when things happen, when children just CAN. Growing and learning are both processes that never work in any sort of linear or organized manner. The thing is that as adults we want them to work in a way that we can understand and that allows us to anticipate the end of the hell of the Threenager, or the crying infant, or the rebellious teenager, or the impertinent nine year old. We spend a lot of time just waiting for it to end. Please let it END.
So we have our threenager. He’s a pain in the ass. He pretends not to listen. He dumps crap all over the floor and then says “mommy clean up”. He won’t brush his teeth without a fight. He totally doesn’t care about our feelings. He doddles when he knows we’re trying to get out of the house fast. He tells us he wants to go somewhere then refuses to get dressed. He’s infuriating.
And wonderful. Amazingly delightful. As long as I don’t expect a lot out of him and remember to enjoy being around him.
Originally uploaded by Sacha Digi
two weeks late, but this is what one boy named Finn looks like on his third birthday. I might go as far to call him schmandsome.
We had a nice birthday. Just the three of us. A haircut. A bath and snuggle. Hanging out.
Then we had a party the next day. DtD and BF, grandma and grandpa, and Finn’s friend Tristan and his moms. Very tasty chocolate cake. All was good.
Happiest of birthdays to my dear boy. We love you. Three is quite a ride so far but that’s an entirely different blog post.
The ultrasound is done. Seems M.’s fears of Tamu dying and the baby’s health being linked together were unfounded. He/she was kicking and partying up a storm.
LB likes his fingers. Especially his left hand, and appears to have found his thumb.
We didn’t take Finner. M. and I need a little something for ourselves in this pregnancy. It was really nice.