Wednesday, January 31, 2007
This makes me think of a friend who gave birth and in the delivery room asked her husband "do you like her? Good. You aren't getting another!" The labour and delivery was painful and long and she didn't want to go through that again (she did have a second child, btw). This is NOT what I am talking about. Labour and delivery is the easy part. It's the getting there that nearly killed me.
When the time comes, I suspect we will try to have a third child. PLEASE don't ask me to think about that now. BB and Husband and I are fine, just the way we are.
Where are all these people that are supposed to be here helping me out? I got a lot of "if you need anything, just call" comments from people. I suppose I should do that - but I feel like it would be rude for me to call up a work acquaintance and say "Look, I just don't have it in me to clean my bathroom - would you mind?" What I am dying for here is for someone to call me and say "Hey, can I come over and clean your bathroom and keep an eye on BB while you sleep?" Oh, isn't that the pipe-dream of every new mother.
Isn't that what MY mother is supposed to do? Please refer to description of dysfunctional relationship below. And, btw, why is it a cardinal sin to leave dirty dishes in her sink, but it is okay for her to leave them in mine???
It was the same when C. died. "If there is anything I can do..." Those open-ended offers never did anyone any good. You gotta offer to do something specific. I know that now... I just wish others knew it, too.
BB is really a good baby. I am reading Secrets of the Baby Whisperer on the advice of a good friend. We will see if a 2 week old baby really can be scheduled. The author claims it's possible. I think I will take the method with a grain of salt - she has some great advice, but some of seems a little crackpot-ish. I am hoping that BB will take to the method well.
I bought BB a pacifier today. The nurses all said wait 6 weeks. Frankly, he needs to suck more than my boob or my finger can handle. That's why they make pacifiers, after all. Probably this makes me a bad mother is some eyes. Too bad. Boobies are for eating, not for fun. Well, not that kind of fun...
Okay. Poopie to deal with.
Okay, so I know about little boys and covering the shooting end when changing them. However, BB is smarter than that. He knows to hold it until the moment he feels the breeze, then --- WATER FOUNTAIN! Or, alternately, he pees a little on the cloth, then when I move it (thinking the peeing is all done), he pees again - this time with gusto. He has peed on every outfit he's worn for the last 24 hours. Almost every diaper change involves a delicate little arc of pee, gracefully aimed at his clothes, the wall, and his face.
The random peeing I was prepared for. I've seen Parenthood after all. It is the projectile poopies that took me off guard (she says as she approaches the dresser - which is 3' from the change table - with a bucket of soapy water).
Sunday, January 28, 2007
One sensation that I don't like very much is this feeling that I have of moving away from C. I don't want that. But I do acknowledge that my focus is, and has to be, on BB. And the realization is dawning on me that we are solely responsible for BB as his parents. We make decisions about and for him, and will for the remainder of his childhood. The magnitude of that undertaking is astounding. Especially compared to our previous parenting experience: plan a funeral, choose a headstone, and then look for other ways to memorialize. Really, what I am doing right now is responding to BB's needs. Perhaps as he becomes slightly more independent, I will figure out how to balance the needs of both my boys.
I do not feel as though I am in over my head. More like I was slightly unprepared, mentally, to mother a living child. I didn't allow myself to think that far ahead. So it is a little shocking now. But I am getting used to it.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
I have never had much of a solid relationship with my mother. I won't get into it here. Simply put, she and I just aren't on the same wavelength. Every time something of importance happens in my life, she feels left out and our "relationship" implodes. When I cut off my long hair without telling her first, when I shopped for my graduation formal dress, when I got married, etc. So I should have expected a dysfunctional response to this occasion, too.
To get her back on track, I have learned that the best thing to do is to completely shoulder the blame for all of the dysfunction in our relationship and kowtow to all of her requests. God, it is absurd and childish. But I have several decades of experience with her - it is better to do things this way.
She spent a few days with us this week. This meant that I spent my time biting my tongue while she prattled off sentence after sentence beginning with “Don’t you think you should ____." Bless my husband for not tearing off her head in anger.
I have been remarkably good at ignoring her. However, one of the things that she has said has really gotten to me. She accused me of keeping everyone away from me since C. died and "building a fortress" around myself. And my answer is this: of course I did!
So I ask you this: when you buried your baby, did you do what I did? Did you retreat to the relative safety of your husband and a handful of understanding friends? Did you put yourself out there a few times, only to discover that the clueless of the world would unintentionally hurt you with their thoughtless words? Did you discover that the only way to protect your soul from that hurt was to be increasingly careful about who you would spend time with, share your thoughts with, open your life to?
My mom is not wrong. I have built a fortress around myself and my little family. I do NOT apologize for it (though she thinks that I have).
Because we chose a name for this little guy that starts with a C, I think that I will refer to him as BB - short for Baby Brother. This way we can avoid confusion between my two boys.
Monday, January 22, 2007
I have had my moments of seeing what we lost with C., but fortunately they haven't been overwhelming. What is more important to me is that people around me don't forget about C. It really bugs me when someone refers to my parents as "new grandparents". Yes, I recognize that this is the first time that they have had a chance to sit an coo at a new little life. But it is insulting to C. to completely ignore his existence in that way.
Because I spent C.'s birthday in labour, we intend to do our candles and sparklers and cupcakes at the cemetery today when my husband gets home from work. And my husband also bought flares. It will be a birthday celebration that would excite a two year old, that's for sure.
Now, quick run down of the birth story:
- went for induction on the Friday. Politics and lack of beds resulted in Cervidil application on Saturday. Some contractions resulted in 2 cm dilation. Began Pitocin at suppertime on Sunday. Around 10:30 pm, a pinprick artificial rupture of membranes was performed to release excess fluids related to polyhydramnios. Sometime around midnight, received an epidural that didn't entirely work. Pushed for 10 minutes to birth at 2:41 a.m. All in all, a hurry-up-and-wait process. Thank God it is over.
- surprisingly, it was all much less traumatic than I thought it would be. Once things got started, I just knew that he was going to be okay. It was the waiting to start that was the hardest part.
Now, to brag a little. He actually slept on his own in his bassinet between feedings last night. I got about 5 hours of sleep overnight. That is freaking amazing! What a wunderkind we have produced!
Saturday, January 20, 2007
I don't know who he resembles. He is such a mix of both of us. It was the same with C. They both have my lips and my husband's nose. I am impossible with seeing resemblances.
He is wonderful. He has explosive poops. He makes hilarious faces when he is pushing out gas. He eats like a champ. He has dimples on both cheeks and was the absolute favourite of the nurses in the hospital. He is quite likely the most brilliant child.
This is just new-mommy gushy stuff. I have regressed to talking in baby talk all the time. I am now the person I might have mocked 5 years ago. I don't care. I am in love.
Thank you ALL so much for your words of congratulations. We are so happy.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
The induction, labour, and delivery would be enough fodder for a late-night made-for-TV movie, so I will perhaps tell that story after I have managed a nap. Suffice it to say, we fought the typical problems of overcrowding and bed-availability in Canadian hospitals and spent the last 6 days negotiating that in our hospital. However, we got our wish - our sons have two different birthdays. I guess overcrowding worked in our favour, in some respects.
I am SO glad to be home.
For those who requested, a photo will be emailed as soon as I can get my act together.
Thank you for all of your well wishes for this little guy and for C. on his birthday. And thank you for your support in getting me here. Knowing that so many people were cheering me on was close to my heart during the last week.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Thank you for not pointing out any grammatical errors that may exist in my French.
Also, I have had visitors the last few days, so I haven't been able to post. I have several appointments in the upcoming days, so expect that I won't be able to post.
If anything of note happens (i.e. the birth of the Babe), I assure you that every effort will be made to land a post here ASAP.
Emotionally, I am something of a disaster. Now, if people would leave me alone long enough, I might be able to do some introspection and figure out how to cope with some of it....
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Monday, January 08, 2007
As each day passes, and we get closer to our goal, the more I realize that I am terrified that it won't happen. My only is experience with pregnancy is this: you get pregnant after months and months of trying, you do everything right, you have great doctors, you carry to term, you go into labour, you show up at the hospital, they tell you your baby is dead.
Something hard to just leave behind you.
On the surface, I feel certain that I will bring a real, living baby into our house and life will allow us to be parents to a living child. But underneath it all lies that whispering despair that will not be silenced: it won't happen, it's not possible, it is all a dream, don't fool yourself.
I knew these days would be hard. Advance notice of hardship, however, does not negate the emotions themselves, nor the difficulty that I have in facing them.
C.'s birthday is this weekend. Of course, much of the heaviness and worry I am experiencing is related to that anniversary.
Two years ago today, he was still alive. We had done a biophysical profile, where he didn't exhibit practice breathing movements. Scored 8/10 on the BPP. Not to worry, we were assured by all the doctors that we saw. Some babies don't do it all the time. A sign of fetal immaturity, nothing more.
Perhaps that was true. Perhaps it was a red herring. Perhaps his death was in no way connected with that missing link. Perhaps it should have been the red flag.
Where is my two year old? He is gone. In fact, he's only ever existed in my mind. I can see the blond little curls as clearly as if he were standing in front of me. Blond curls that he never had a chance to grow.
I am working feverishly on finishing the blanket I am knitting for the Babe. Yes, Catherine, I will post photos as soon as I am done. :)
I am almost panicked about finishing this blanket. I didn't finish C's blanket. We buried it with him. I came home from the hospital, we went and bought an outfit in which to bury our boy, and then I sat down to cast off the final stitches in the middle of that unfinished blanket. I thought I had all the time in the world to finish it for him. A lifetime to finish it. In some ways it was appropriate - an unfinished blanket for a boy who didn't even get to start his life.
Obviously, today I write from a place full of melancholy and loss. No doubt, my mood will change 6 times today, let alone this week.
Please, if you are the praying type, I would appreciate if you sent a little request into The Great Beyond that this baby make his/her grand appearance on any day but C's birthday. That would be a small mercy for my soul.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
In other news, I have discovered I really don't like sharing an office with anyone. Which I will do for a few more days (until I start my leave). It is creepy to have someone in your space.
I accomplished knitting goal #1 - to complete 3 rows of the pattern and work in all the ends up to that point. Knitting goal #2 - to complete 4th row of the pattern by the end of the week.
P.S. Is anyone aware of any parenting books that are geared towards parenting after loss? Or parenting after a traumatic event? I couldn't find anything in the searches that I did.
Monday, January 01, 2007
- put up all decor in the nursery (DH did most of it)
- washed all baby linens
- sewed curtain for the nursery
- sewed pillow covers for decoration in the nursery
- bought and assembled car seat and stroller (I paid, he assembled)
- cleaned the nursery, including polishing the floors (all his work, not mine)
In Other News:
I think we've established that I am all about anonymity. But I really would like to share some things, too. So here is what we will do:
If you would like a baby announcement, with a picture, leave your email address in the comments section or email me at eightmillionpieces [at] gmail [dot] com. If I think I can trust you not to track me down and murder me, then I will add you to the list.
If you are interested in seeing a few of the projects that I have made that I won't post photos of (for fear of recognition), let me know - I will email those things too.
Also, for those who have asked, it is possible that I may establish a PO box for snail mail deliveries. Waiting for Canada Post to be open long enough to check into the details. Email if you want this info.
OK. Now I must spend at least 6 hours knitting if I am going to take this blanket to the hospital with me (in less than 2 weeks, I hope).