Scene: Late afternoon, our media room, watching Survivor: Heroes v. Villains
Monkey Brain: How did Coach make it to the Villains tribe?
Josh: Because there was no dufus tribe!
Friday, February 26, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Spam
In Re: Create the fever in your bed!
Dear Phisherman,
There’s already a fever in my bed. It’s called postpartum night sweats.
Sincerely,
Monkey Brain
Dear Phisherman,
There’s already a fever in my bed. It’s called postpartum night sweats.
Sincerely,
Monkey Brain
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Monkey Brain
Josh just compared Cody (and all newborns, really) to Bernie from Weekend at Bernie’s, because he’s all loose-limbed and floppy and always needs to be held up. And while I should probably be disturbed by my husband comparing our younger son to a corpse from a movie, what I’m really thinking is I SO married the right guy! I mean, come on! I’ve only seen Weekend at Bernie’s a million times.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Puzzle Time
Josh: Do you buy those Melissa & Doug puzzles for Jacob, or yourself?
Monkey Brain: Let’s just call it a win-win.
It’s true, I love me a good puzzle, almost as much as Jacob. I mean, that kid can spend hours building, deconstructing and rebuilding the same dang puzzle, and I’m right there with him.
I love doing puzzles with Jacob for many reasons. First, I just love puzzles, always have. It capitalizes my visual way of thinking, a dance that soothes the savage Monkey Brain. I tend to think in pictures, so any opportunity to bring that type of thinking from the abstract of my mind to the concrete world makes me happy. This is why I also love crosswords and Scrabble.
Second, I love watching Jacob. During the spring and summer, I'd watch him maneuver through the toddler puzzles that have cutouts for each piece, some that came with sound. Over and over he'd line up the puzzle piece with the corresponding picture, and dance to the sound of a yipping Zebra (or roaring lion, etc) when he got it right.
Now we've moved on to floor puzzles, 48 oversized pieces, and I get to join in on the fun. After the first few tries, I have to step back and let him have a go at the puzzle at hand, because he is a pretty quick learner. Watching him do puzzles is a form of meditation. I am in the moment, and it’s like I’m watching the gears of his brain turn. He tries out a few pieces here or there, and then he’ll just light upon one that he has memorized, and I can see the recognition as he puts it into place, the confidence and satisfaction that he gets from getting it right. In those moments I am seeing something magical, as if I am literally watching him grow before my eyes. I feel as proud of his accomplishment as he is, and so happy to bear witness to his developing self.
Finally, this is something that we can do together. Over the last 10 months, a variety of things have taken me away from my son. Morning sickness, which sent me to bed on many afternoon/evenings for the fist half of my pregnancy, the physical tiredness of the last few months when I couldn’t really lift him, the days in the hospital, and the last two weeks of not lifting him at all while being nearly permanently attached to Cody.
And so I ordered up some puzzles, which I’m introducing to Jacob one at a time. I broke out an underwater scene on Friday, and since then we’ve done the “fishy puzzle,” oh, thirty times at least. In my book, this is time well spent. We are not watching Kung Fu Panda, or Madagascar, or Youtube videos of polar bears, although these all have their time and place. I don’t need to be able to run around the house roaring like a monster. I don't need to be able to lift him up to be close to him. I can sit on the floor with my still slightly aching belly, sometimes while feeding a newborn, and reconnect with my older son in joint meditation over a two by three foot puzzle.
Monkey Brain: Let’s just call it a win-win.
It’s true, I love me a good puzzle, almost as much as Jacob. I mean, that kid can spend hours building, deconstructing and rebuilding the same dang puzzle, and I’m right there with him.
I love doing puzzles with Jacob for many reasons. First, I just love puzzles, always have. It capitalizes my visual way of thinking, a dance that soothes the savage Monkey Brain. I tend to think in pictures, so any opportunity to bring that type of thinking from the abstract of my mind to the concrete world makes me happy. This is why I also love crosswords and Scrabble.
Second, I love watching Jacob. During the spring and summer, I'd watch him maneuver through the toddler puzzles that have cutouts for each piece, some that came with sound. Over and over he'd line up the puzzle piece with the corresponding picture, and dance to the sound of a yipping Zebra (or roaring lion, etc) when he got it right.
Now we've moved on to floor puzzles, 48 oversized pieces, and I get to join in on the fun. After the first few tries, I have to step back and let him have a go at the puzzle at hand, because he is a pretty quick learner. Watching him do puzzles is a form of meditation. I am in the moment, and it’s like I’m watching the gears of his brain turn. He tries out a few pieces here or there, and then he’ll just light upon one that he has memorized, and I can see the recognition as he puts it into place, the confidence and satisfaction that he gets from getting it right. In those moments I am seeing something magical, as if I am literally watching him grow before my eyes. I feel as proud of his accomplishment as he is, and so happy to bear witness to his developing self.
Finally, this is something that we can do together. Over the last 10 months, a variety of things have taken me away from my son. Morning sickness, which sent me to bed on many afternoon/evenings for the fist half of my pregnancy, the physical tiredness of the last few months when I couldn’t really lift him, the days in the hospital, and the last two weeks of not lifting him at all while being nearly permanently attached to Cody.
And so I ordered up some puzzles, which I’m introducing to Jacob one at a time. I broke out an underwater scene on Friday, and since then we’ve done the “fishy puzzle,” oh, thirty times at least. In my book, this is time well spent. We are not watching Kung Fu Panda, or Madagascar, or Youtube videos of polar bears, although these all have their time and place. I don’t need to be able to run around the house roaring like a monster. I don't need to be able to lift him up to be close to him. I can sit on the floor with my still slightly aching belly, sometimes while feeding a newborn, and reconnect with my older son in joint meditation over a two by three foot puzzle.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Spam
Dear Hoveround Power Wheelchair,
Have you been following me? I only used the power chair in Target because of massive incision pain due to my C-section. And while I’ll admit I had a lot of fun (except when I rear-ended that poor lady’s ankles), it’s not a permanent situation, my friend.
Sincerely,
Monkey Brain
Have you been following me? I only used the power chair in Target because of massive incision pain due to my C-section. And while I’ll admit I had a lot of fun (except when I rear-ended that poor lady’s ankles), it’s not a permanent situation, my friend.
Sincerely,
Monkey Brain
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Spam
Dear Phisherman,
“Give your rocket more TNT”? Now that just sounds like a fire hazard. Safety first, people!
Sincerely,
Monkey Brain
“Give your rocket more TNT”? Now that just sounds like a fire hazard. Safety first, people!
Sincerely,
Monkey Brain
Friday, February 19, 2010
I so happy, I not crying (Cody’s Birth Story, Part II)
A month or so ago, Josh picked up Jacob at daycare, and Jacob was very upset and didn’t want to leave. This is unusual, because usually Jacob is saying, “My Daddy! My Daddy!” and can’t wait for pickup, but on this particular day he was having too good of a time. The next day, he was back to normal, and when Josh came to pick him up, he said, “I so happy, I not crying.”
This phrase could have been the tagline of my labor with Cody. Not only did I say it over and over again, I felt so happy through the 16 hours of labor. Tired and in pain, but happy. I felt like an athlete well trained for a marathon, only most of my training was psychological. All the hard work, the blogging, the reliving and letting go of Jacob’s birth had served its purpose; because I felt so great, even through the contractions (does this mean I need to retract my Gisele rant?).
I walked into labor & delivery with my silver birth ball and a smile on my face. I had my birth plan. I rejected meds, even when I thought that the pain from the contractions might tear my body apart. I felt present and completely in my body, and just kept thinking that this is what my body is supposed to do. I felt so damn good.
Onto the nitty gritty.
We got set up in our room and Nurse Mary got out a ph strip to confirm the presence of amniotic fluid, and it turned color immediately. She checked my cervix and I was at 2 cm, 80% effaced.
At 7 am, we got the next nurse, Nurse Diane, and I was about 3 cm dilated.
At 9 am, I was about 4.5 cm dilated, and things started to slow down. Keiki’s heart rate was dropping with each contraction (decels), so they set me up on IV fluids and oxygen to even out his heart rate. This is the part that I hated with Jacob’s birth, because the length of the oxygen tube from the wall to the mask was so short that I was pretty much tethered to the bed. This time, I was okay. I’d still rip it off when I had a contraction, but I tried to sit up in the bed, or sit on the birth ball right next to the bed.
Between 9 and 2, I was checked hourly, and there was little progress. Dr B let me continue because my labor was steady and strong, and Keiki was doing okay, but at 2, we decided that if there was no change by 4 pm, we’d move forward with a C-Section.
By 3 pm, fatigue was setting in, and I wondered how much longer I could go on without rest or pain relief. I knew that the contractions would only get stronger and more frequent, and as it was they were shredding through me, making me feel like my body was cracking open with each one. I wanted to know my fate, so I asked Nurse Diane to check me early. When she noted that there had been no change, I knew that a C-Section was imminent, which Dr. B confirmed via phone.
Once I knew we were going forward with the C-Section, I started crying, a really big, ugly cry. As Josh and Nurse Diane tried to comfort me, I tried to explain that I was okay, but the only thing that came out was blubbering sobs. I was disappointed to say the least, but I knew that I had done everything I could, and that for me, this was the right choice. The contractions were slowing down; my body was slowing down; it was time to let go of the VBAC option. I was okay with my decision, but had a lot of emotion to release, and sometimes crying is the only way to do that. I wanted to say “I’m not sad, I’m just crying.”
The anesthesiologist came in, and it was the same doctor from Jacob’s birth. I re-introduced myself and shared a little bit about my previous experience on the operating table: the uncontrollable shivering, the nausea. He explained that the shivering was pretty standard, but that he’d try to be mindful of it and any nausea and minimize both side affects. He made me feel heard, and that helped with my fears about returning to the operating room.
It was 4:53 pm, I had been in labor for 16 hours, and we were on the home stretch.
This phrase could have been the tagline of my labor with Cody. Not only did I say it over and over again, I felt so happy through the 16 hours of labor. Tired and in pain, but happy. I felt like an athlete well trained for a marathon, only most of my training was psychological. All the hard work, the blogging, the reliving and letting go of Jacob’s birth had served its purpose; because I felt so great, even through the contractions (does this mean I need to retract my Gisele rant?).
I walked into labor & delivery with my silver birth ball and a smile on my face. I had my birth plan. I rejected meds, even when I thought that the pain from the contractions might tear my body apart. I felt present and completely in my body, and just kept thinking that this is what my body is supposed to do. I felt so damn good.
Onto the nitty gritty.
We got set up in our room and Nurse Mary got out a ph strip to confirm the presence of amniotic fluid, and it turned color immediately. She checked my cervix and I was at 2 cm, 80% effaced.
At 7 am, we got the next nurse, Nurse Diane, and I was about 3 cm dilated.
At 9 am, I was about 4.5 cm dilated, and things started to slow down. Keiki’s heart rate was dropping with each contraction (decels), so they set me up on IV fluids and oxygen to even out his heart rate. This is the part that I hated with Jacob’s birth, because the length of the oxygen tube from the wall to the mask was so short that I was pretty much tethered to the bed. This time, I was okay. I’d still rip it off when I had a contraction, but I tried to sit up in the bed, or sit on the birth ball right next to the bed.
Between 9 and 2, I was checked hourly, and there was little progress. Dr B let me continue because my labor was steady and strong, and Keiki was doing okay, but at 2, we decided that if there was no change by 4 pm, we’d move forward with a C-Section.
By 3 pm, fatigue was setting in, and I wondered how much longer I could go on without rest or pain relief. I knew that the contractions would only get stronger and more frequent, and as it was they were shredding through me, making me feel like my body was cracking open with each one. I wanted to know my fate, so I asked Nurse Diane to check me early. When she noted that there had been no change, I knew that a C-Section was imminent, which Dr. B confirmed via phone.
Once I knew we were going forward with the C-Section, I started crying, a really big, ugly cry. As Josh and Nurse Diane tried to comfort me, I tried to explain that I was okay, but the only thing that came out was blubbering sobs. I was disappointed to say the least, but I knew that I had done everything I could, and that for me, this was the right choice. The contractions were slowing down; my body was slowing down; it was time to let go of the VBAC option. I was okay with my decision, but had a lot of emotion to release, and sometimes crying is the only way to do that. I wanted to say “I’m not sad, I’m just crying.”
The anesthesiologist came in, and it was the same doctor from Jacob’s birth. I re-introduced myself and shared a little bit about my previous experience on the operating table: the uncontrollable shivering, the nausea. He explained that the shivering was pretty standard, but that he’d try to be mindful of it and any nausea and minimize both side affects. He made me feel heard, and that helped with my fears about returning to the operating room.
It was 4:53 pm, I had been in labor for 16 hours, and we were on the home stretch.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Monkey Brain
Is is me, or does Madonna's face look more and more like silly putty with each passing year?
All about the boob
God, I am such a sucker for good grades, even when I’m not the one taking the test. Yesterday Cody had his one week checkup and he’s doing swimmingly. After losing about 11 oz, he’s back above his birth weight and very alert. Dr. M said he’s like a one month old, and we don’t even have to do a 2 week visit!
This news warms the cockles of my heart, especially the weight gain. Since I’m breastfeeding, I have no idea how much is going into Cody’s body, so I am very happy to sustain his growth with my own body. Due to various complications, Jacob was a formula fed baby supplemented with breast milk, and good lord, was feeding high maintenance! Nipple shields, pumping, and this contraption involving a straw with formula taped to my boob to try and get him to feed made breastfeeding an incredibly frustrating and cumbersome process.
Then there was the work of formula: the cost, the constant bottle cleaning, making sure to pack it in the diaper bag. I spent hours with a lactation consultant who told me that while it was unlikely that I’d be able to fully breastfeed Jacob, I was laying the groundwork for number two. That advice is what motivated me to pump every hour, to drink Mother’s Milk tea, to take herbs and try to have patience with Jacob when he would scream as I tried to breastfeed him.
Cody latched on right away and is a champion eater, no nipple shield needed. I love that as long as we are together, my body is all he needs to get a solid meal, and he’s thriving. We had one rough night last week when we considered getting some formula so I could rest and heal, but I was able to push through, and I’ve been recovering really well. (Disclaimer: while it made sense for me and did not hinder my recovery, I am not an advocate for being a martyr.)
The biggest perk of all this? I have one less thing to worry about, and that gives me more energy to be a mom and enjoy my baby, and that sure feels good.
This news warms the cockles of my heart, especially the weight gain. Since I’m breastfeeding, I have no idea how much is going into Cody’s body, so I am very happy to sustain his growth with my own body. Due to various complications, Jacob was a formula fed baby supplemented with breast milk, and good lord, was feeding high maintenance! Nipple shields, pumping, and this contraption involving a straw with formula taped to my boob to try and get him to feed made breastfeeding an incredibly frustrating and cumbersome process.
Then there was the work of formula: the cost, the constant bottle cleaning, making sure to pack it in the diaper bag. I spent hours with a lactation consultant who told me that while it was unlikely that I’d be able to fully breastfeed Jacob, I was laying the groundwork for number two. That advice is what motivated me to pump every hour, to drink Mother’s Milk tea, to take herbs and try to have patience with Jacob when he would scream as I tried to breastfeed him.
Cody latched on right away and is a champion eater, no nipple shield needed. I love that as long as we are together, my body is all he needs to get a solid meal, and he’s thriving. We had one rough night last week when we considered getting some formula so I could rest and heal, but I was able to push through, and I’ve been recovering really well. (Disclaimer: while it made sense for me and did not hinder my recovery, I am not an advocate for being a martyr.)
The biggest perk of all this? I have one less thing to worry about, and that gives me more energy to be a mom and enjoy my baby, and that sure feels good.
Monday, February 15, 2010
"Either my water broke or I peed the bed" (Cody's Birth Story, Part I)
Like so many, Cody’s birth story began in the middle of the night. One week ago, I woke up in a pool of wetness, put on my glasses on and noted the time. It was 12:50 am, and the wild rumpus of labor was just beginning.
When I was in labor with Jacob, my OB broke my bag after my epidural, so I had no reference point for what was happening. I laid there for a few minutes, feeling the liquid, and there was a lot. Finally I roused Josh: “Honey? Either my water broke, or I majorly peed the bed.”
I went into the bathroom and Josh went on the Internet. Based on his research, we were pretty sure that it was amniotic fluid, I felt a little better, because with liquid coursing down my legs, the only other option that I had lost all bladder control.
Anyhoo.
We called Dr B’s answering service and set about getting ready to go to the hospital, finishing up packing, calling my neighbor to come be with Jacob, changing the sheets, writing down last minute directions for Jacob. I was pretty excited because Keiki was coming in the next 24 hours. We tried to count contractions on line, but kept monkey braining. My best guess is that I was about 7 min apart, but we wanted to get to the hospital to make sure it was amniotic fluid, and because of the possibility of an emergency C-section.
Finally we got in the car and were on our way. It was 3:30 am, February 8, and Keiki was coming. Go Keiki, go!
When I was in labor with Jacob, my OB broke my bag after my epidural, so I had no reference point for what was happening. I laid there for a few minutes, feeling the liquid, and there was a lot. Finally I roused Josh: “Honey? Either my water broke, or I majorly peed the bed.”
I went into the bathroom and Josh went on the Internet. Based on his research, we were pretty sure that it was amniotic fluid, I felt a little better, because with liquid coursing down my legs, the only other option that I had lost all bladder control.
Anyhoo.
We called Dr B’s answering service and set about getting ready to go to the hospital, finishing up packing, calling my neighbor to come be with Jacob, changing the sheets, writing down last minute directions for Jacob. I was pretty excited because Keiki was coming in the next 24 hours. We tried to count contractions on line, but kept monkey braining. My best guess is that I was about 7 min apart, but we wanted to get to the hospital to make sure it was amniotic fluid, and because of the possibility of an emergency C-section.
Finally we got in the car and were on our way. It was 3:30 am, February 8, and Keiki was coming. Go Keiki, go!
Sunday, February 14, 2010
This one goes out to the one I love
Recently a friend came to visit who is recovering from a breakup of a long term relationship. In the standard girlfriend re-hashing at my kitchen table, one of the missing pieces of the relationship was the absence of romantic gestures by her ex, until the end when the relationship was in jeopardy. I’m not going to go into the details (that’s for her blog, should she want to start one) but the bottom line is that it’s not about fantasy dates and roses, it’s about thought.
As I listened to her, my initial reaction was to think about my own relationship, and let me tell you, Josh is no fantasy date planner. He’s not a big flower guy, or into big romantic gestures of any kind. This doesn’t bother me, but I kept thinking should it bother me?
But then I started to think some more.
I think about the fact that every time Josh drives “my” car, he makes sure that he fills up the tank. He does this despite the fact that his natural inclination is let the tank go as low as possible so he can calculate the mileage. He does this because he knows that I start to get nervous at a quarter tank, and sometimes I forget stuff like filling up the car.
I think about the thousands of poopy diapers that Josh has changed due to my being unable to lift Jacob onto the changing table (in the first weeks of his life, as well as the last weeks of this pregnancy and double duty-doody?-in the last 6 days). And not only does he change the poopy diaper, but I hear them giggling together during the changing. It’s more about the two of them and not about Josh and me, but is there anything more lovely than a man who can laugh his way through shoveling poop? Is there anything more lovely than seeing that the man you love and have chosen to spend your life with is a good father, in addition to all the other great qualities? I don’t think so.
The other day, we were driving home from the pediatrician’s office and Jackson Browne came on the radio. I was musing about how I tend to like every JB song that comes on the radio, but have never made the next logical step of either buying an album or downloading his songs to expand our relationship. This morning, I didn’t get breakfast in a bed of roses or a balloon ride through the Napa Valley followed by a picnic of wine and chocolate, but I DID get an Itunes playlist of Jackson Browne. And did I mention that Josh was a college DJ? My point is that for me, the fantasy date/gift, is one that says that my husband is listening to my monkey brain offhand comments, and knows me well enough that I’ll never get around to buying that album, so he does it for me.
Happy Valentine’s Day, honey. I love you with all my heart.
As I listened to her, my initial reaction was to think about my own relationship, and let me tell you, Josh is no fantasy date planner. He’s not a big flower guy, or into big romantic gestures of any kind. This doesn’t bother me, but I kept thinking should it bother me?
But then I started to think some more.
I think about the fact that every time Josh drives “my” car, he makes sure that he fills up the tank. He does this despite the fact that his natural inclination is let the tank go as low as possible so he can calculate the mileage. He does this because he knows that I start to get nervous at a quarter tank, and sometimes I forget stuff like filling up the car.
I think about the thousands of poopy diapers that Josh has changed due to my being unable to lift Jacob onto the changing table (in the first weeks of his life, as well as the last weeks of this pregnancy and double duty-doody?-in the last 6 days). And not only does he change the poopy diaper, but I hear them giggling together during the changing. It’s more about the two of them and not about Josh and me, but is there anything more lovely than a man who can laugh his way through shoveling poop? Is there anything more lovely than seeing that the man you love and have chosen to spend your life with is a good father, in addition to all the other great qualities? I don’t think so.
The other day, we were driving home from the pediatrician’s office and Jackson Browne came on the radio. I was musing about how I tend to like every JB song that comes on the radio, but have never made the next logical step of either buying an album or downloading his songs to expand our relationship. This morning, I didn’t get breakfast in a bed of roses or a balloon ride through the Napa Valley followed by a picnic of wine and chocolate, but I DID get an Itunes playlist of Jackson Browne. And did I mention that Josh was a college DJ? My point is that for me, the fantasy date/gift, is one that says that my husband is listening to my monkey brain offhand comments, and knows me well enough that I’ll never get around to buying that album, so he does it for me.
Happy Valentine’s Day, honey. I love you with all my heart.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Spam
In Re: I am your Russian pussy, do you remember my nickname?
Dear Russian pussy,
I may be a Monkey Brain, but I’m pre-tty sure that I would remember having a cat. To be honest, I’m more of a dog person anyway.
Sincerely,
Monkey Brain
Dear Russian pussy,
I may be a Monkey Brain, but I’m pre-tty sure that I would remember having a cat. To be honest, I’m more of a dog person anyway.
Sincerely,
Monkey Brain
Friday, February 12, 2010
The Brothers Henig
When I was brought home from the hospital, my big brother D, who was three at the time, was allowed to hold me somewhat unsupervised. As the story goes, he decided he was done holding me, let go, and I plopped onto the floor. Then he asked when they were taking me back to the hospital.
When we placed Cody in Jacob's lap today, I was careful to keep my hands on both kids at all time, but I didn't have much to fear. Jacob was so gentle, and he kept kissing Cody: "Kiss eyes. Kiss ears. Kiss nose." He also kept saying, "I love Cody" over and over again. What's that pool of liquid over there? Oh right, it's my heart.
With all the good news, I know that this is also a complicated time for Jacob, and I want to be mindful of that. Later in the afternoon, we watched a Netflix together, Rugrats: The Movie. What neither Josh nor I realized is that this movie is about a little boy who gets a baby brother who cries all the time and the parents ignore the older brother. Well, maybe the movie is about more than that, but that's about as far as we got before Jacob turned to me with his eyes full of tears and said, "Watch Madagascar?" What's that cracking sound? Oh right, it's my heart.
When we placed Cody in Jacob's lap today, I was careful to keep my hands on both kids at all time, but I didn't have much to fear. Jacob was so gentle, and he kept kissing Cody: "Kiss eyes. Kiss ears. Kiss nose." He also kept saying, "I love Cody" over and over again. What's that pool of liquid over there? Oh right, it's my heart.
With all the good news, I know that this is also a complicated time for Jacob, and I want to be mindful of that. Later in the afternoon, we watched a Netflix together, Rugrats: The Movie. What neither Josh nor I realized is that this movie is about a little boy who gets a baby brother who cries all the time and the parents ignore the older brother. Well, maybe the movie is about more than that, but that's about as far as we got before Jacob turned to me with his eyes full of tears and said, "Watch Madagascar?" What's that cracking sound? Oh right, it's my heart.
My Baby Ate My Homework
Dear Internet and Readers,
I know I've been remiss in blogging!. However, I have the BEST excuse in the world, I promise. Are you ready? Wait for it. . . .
I had a baby! And I've been in the hospital for most of this week, my phone is not smart, not SMART at ALL, so I here I am a few days late in updates.
There is so much to write about, so I'll just give you some highlights:
Cody James Henig was born at 5:27 pm on Monday, February 8. Of course a birth story will be forthcoming, but the answer to the VBAC/C-Section debate is both. My labor stalled so we went to C-Section, and thank goodness gracious, because he came out sunny side up (best to have baby facing your back) with the cord wrapped twice around his neck, and with the exception of a small trench in his head made my my pelvic born, he is as beautiful and healthy as can be. I have no regrets about my experience, and the C/S was SOO much better this time, so much so that it warrants a whole post.
Jacob is getting more intrigued by his brother, as if we brought a little puppy home. He likes to stroke his cheek and try to give him his pacifier, and then my heart melts like a snow cone in Hawaii. It should be an interesting few months to say the least.
My recovery is going well. It kind of feels like my organs have been rearranged and are still loose in my body, and the incision pain is a BITCH without medication, but I am worlds apart from where I was 5 days postpartum with Jacob. I'm sleep-deprived and achy boobed and tired, but I am also bursting with a happiness that I'm trying to savor and suck on while it lasts, instead of thinking that this must be some sort of post-partum psychosis and denial of the chaotic truth of my new life. I mean, I have showered once since Sunday, my house looks like a tornado hit it, but I don't care because Cody's little face is begging for a kiss and I have to hold myself back from just nibbling his ear off.
Sincerely,
Monkey Brain
I know I've been remiss in blogging!. However, I have the BEST excuse in the world, I promise. Are you ready? Wait for it. . . .
I had a baby! And I've been in the hospital for most of this week, my phone is not smart, not SMART at ALL, so I here I am a few days late in updates.
There is so much to write about, so I'll just give you some highlights:
Cody James Henig was born at 5:27 pm on Monday, February 8. Of course a birth story will be forthcoming, but the answer to the VBAC/C-Section debate is both. My labor stalled so we went to C-Section, and thank goodness gracious, because he came out sunny side up (best to have baby facing your back) with the cord wrapped twice around his neck, and with the exception of a small trench in his head made my my pelvic born, he is as beautiful and healthy as can be. I have no regrets about my experience, and the C/S was SOO much better this time, so much so that it warrants a whole post.
Jacob is getting more intrigued by his brother, as if we brought a little puppy home. He likes to stroke his cheek and try to give him his pacifier, and then my heart melts like a snow cone in Hawaii. It should be an interesting few months to say the least.
My recovery is going well. It kind of feels like my organs have been rearranged and are still loose in my body, and the incision pain is a BITCH without medication, but I am worlds apart from where I was 5 days postpartum with Jacob. I'm sleep-deprived and achy boobed and tired, but I am also bursting with a happiness that I'm trying to savor and suck on while it lasts, instead of thinking that this must be some sort of post-partum psychosis and denial of the chaotic truth of my new life. I mean, I have showered once since Sunday, my house looks like a tornado hit it, but I don't care because Cody's little face is begging for a kiss and I have to hold myself back from just nibbling his ear off.
Sincerely,
Monkey Brain
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Spam
Dear “Rose”,
Do I have love handles? DO I HAVE LOVE HANDLES? Sweetie. I am 9 months pregnant. My LOVE handles have love handles!
Sincerely,
Monkey Brain
Do I have love handles? DO I HAVE LOVE HANDLES? Sweetie. I am 9 months pregnant. My LOVE handles have love handles!
Sincerely,
Monkey Brain
Saturday, February 06, 2010
Mama’s day out
I received many great suggestions about what to do with this gift of alone time. I really wish that I had thought of this sooner, because with my luck, Keiki will come tonight! I think since I couldn’t do much (and had no car) for the four weeks that I was at home before Jacob’s birth, I never thought I’d feel up to doing much this time around. Anyhoo, below is a list of suggestions. I recommend you take any of them, or facilitate one of the following activities for a mom in your life.
1. Go to a movie
2. Lunch at a kid unfriendly restaurant (quiet, no highchairs....)
3. mani/pedi (mainly for the hand and foot massage) (this got a few votes)
4. Spend the day at a bookstore, kick up your feet and read at home
5. Movie, especially one that involves buttery popcorn
These are all my cup of tea! So here’s what I did. I headed out to Ikea for a good walk. I left my credit cards in the car to safeguard myself from impulse buys and made it out with only a $4.99 plastic stepstool for Jacob.
My next stop was a nice little bistro in Menlo Park called The Left Bank, where I covered my caloric intake for the next few days with a Croque Monsieur, greens, and Arnold Palmer. Finally, I sat at Starbucks with an iced tea, apple treat, and Us Weekly. Now I could have just gone home to read (one of the suggestions), but I realized that being out with a magazine or book is a totally different experience. While I love my home, right now it is filled with reminders about what I should be doing, like laundry, picking up toys (or other clutter for that matter), doing dishes, etc. I can’t get it all done without some major tiredness on my part, so it was nice to read my rags in peace.
I arrived home and felt wonderfully productive in my doing nothingness. And I really couldn’t have planned this outing at a better time, as Jacob threw up at daycare and came home early. Half of Madagascar and all of Kung Fu Panda later, he puked popcorn all over the couch, again on Daddy, wiping some on me, and ground his puke-covered body into our snuggler (loveseat) for good measure. So we had a bath while Daddy cleaned up, and sent him to bed with crackers and water. If I had spent the day at home zoning out on tv and choring my body into submission, I’m not sure how much patience or energy that it takes to handle a projectile vomiting 2 year old.
Thank you all who provided feedback, and I hope you listen to your own advice. God bless pampering and the United States of America!
1. Go to a movie
2. Lunch at a kid unfriendly restaurant (quiet, no highchairs....)
3. mani/pedi (mainly for the hand and foot massage) (this got a few votes)
4. Spend the day at a bookstore, kick up your feet and read at home
5. Movie, especially one that involves buttery popcorn
These are all my cup of tea! So here’s what I did. I headed out to Ikea for a good walk. I left my credit cards in the car to safeguard myself from impulse buys and made it out with only a $4.99 plastic stepstool for Jacob.
My next stop was a nice little bistro in Menlo Park called The Left Bank, where I covered my caloric intake for the next few days with a Croque Monsieur, greens, and Arnold Palmer. Finally, I sat at Starbucks with an iced tea, apple treat, and Us Weekly. Now I could have just gone home to read (one of the suggestions), but I realized that being out with a magazine or book is a totally different experience. While I love my home, right now it is filled with reminders about what I should be doing, like laundry, picking up toys (or other clutter for that matter), doing dishes, etc. I can’t get it all done without some major tiredness on my part, so it was nice to read my rags in peace.
I arrived home and felt wonderfully productive in my doing nothingness. And I really couldn’t have planned this outing at a better time, as Jacob threw up at daycare and came home early. Half of Madagascar and all of Kung Fu Panda later, he puked popcorn all over the couch, again on Daddy, wiping some on me, and ground his puke-covered body into our snuggler (loveseat) for good measure. So we had a bath while Daddy cleaned up, and sent him to bed with crackers and water. If I had spent the day at home zoning out on tv and choring my body into submission, I’m not sure how much patience or energy that it takes to handle a projectile vomiting 2 year old.
Thank you all who provided feedback, and I hope you listen to your own advice. God bless pampering and the United States of America!
Friday, February 05, 2010
Calling All Moms!
Okay, so most of my thoughts lately have been something like this: Go, Keiki, go! Get outta there. When is that baby coming?
What I'm not doing is living in the moment. Right now, I have an amazing opportunity. I am on maternity leave, which means that I am being paid to be at home and wait for Keiki. Being paid means that I can afford to keep Jacob in daycare while I'm at home, not doing much.
I'm taking some advantage of this time off, getting the laundry done, cooking dinner, going to Stroller Strides, getting life errands done.
And yet.
This is the calm before the storm, and I feel like I'm not doing enough to savor this time. Right now, every weekday that goes by without Keiki is 10 hours of ME time. So moms out there, working or stay at home, let me be your proxy! What would you do if you had a whole day to yourself? The children are covered, you can't spend more than half of that time doing chores, and you have a budget of $20-$30. (Note that you are nine months pregnant in this fantasy) Would you go for a hike? Window shop? Take yourself to lunch? Mani-pedi? Give me ideas!
What I'm not doing is living in the moment. Right now, I have an amazing opportunity. I am on maternity leave, which means that I am being paid to be at home and wait for Keiki. Being paid means that I can afford to keep Jacob in daycare while I'm at home, not doing much.
I'm taking some advantage of this time off, getting the laundry done, cooking dinner, going to Stroller Strides, getting life errands done.
And yet.
This is the calm before the storm, and I feel like I'm not doing enough to savor this time. Right now, every weekday that goes by without Keiki is 10 hours of ME time. So moms out there, working or stay at home, let me be your proxy! What would you do if you had a whole day to yourself? The children are covered, you can't spend more than half of that time doing chores, and you have a budget of $20-$30. (Note that you are nine months pregnant in this fantasy) Would you go for a hike? Window shop? Take yourself to lunch? Mani-pedi? Give me ideas!
Thursday, February 04, 2010
Someone is looking to get slapped
Dear Gisele,
Please stop talking. Just close your mouth before you alienate every red blooded American woman, and maybe even some empathetic and evolved fathers.
I mean, first it started out small, little things like the fact that you had a water birth in the bathtub of the home that you share with husband Tom Brady. No big whoop, right?
And then you start running your mouth. About how you never wore maternity clothes, just made some small changes in the belly of your current clothes. About how you have no nanny and looooooove being awake every 2 hours.
But the cherry on this sundae? That you didn’t feel pain during labor?!
Woman, do you see what you are doing? Not only are you making thousands, if not millions, of mothers hate you, you are breeding a new generation of mothers to hate you. Presumably your fan base is mostly young and male, who now stupidly think that their future wives and baby mommas should not only stay thin during pregnancy, but what are they whining about these pesky contractions?
For the love of all things holy, blame it on post-partum mania and shut it!
Sincerely,
Monkey Brain
Please stop talking. Just close your mouth before you alienate every red blooded American woman, and maybe even some empathetic and evolved fathers.
I mean, first it started out small, little things like the fact that you had a water birth in the bathtub of the home that you share with husband Tom Brady. No big whoop, right?
And then you start running your mouth. About how you never wore maternity clothes, just made some small changes in the belly of your current clothes. About how you have no nanny and looooooove being awake every 2 hours.
But the cherry on this sundae? That you didn’t feel pain during labor?!
Woman, do you see what you are doing? Not only are you making thousands, if not millions, of mothers hate you, you are breeding a new generation of mothers to hate you. Presumably your fan base is mostly young and male, who now stupidly think that their future wives and baby mommas should not only stay thin during pregnancy, but what are they whining about these pesky contractions?
For the love of all things holy, blame it on post-partum mania and shut it!
Sincerely,
Monkey Brain
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
39 Weeks: I carried a WATERMELON?!
Actually, according to Babycenter.com, Keiki is the size of a mini watermelon, but from my vantage point, that seems like an oxymoron to me.
For those of you ladies who live under a rock and have never seen Dirty Dancing, the above will mean nothing to you, so let me catch you up:
When Baby (Jennifer Grey) first meets Johnny (Patrick Swayze), she has paid her way into a staff party by helping out Johnny’s cousin Billy carry watermelons. When Johnny angrily says, “What’s she doing here?” Baby replies, “I carried a watermelon.” As the scene cuts away, she turns her head to the side and hisses under her breath, “I carried a WATERMELON?”
Any of you who have said something utterly stupid in the presence of an intimidatingly beautiful person has had this moment; one of the silver screen’s finest. This became shorthand among my college friends; at one point there was a boy crush who was only referred to as “Watermelon” because of my friend’s awkwardness in every encounter with him. There may have even been discussions of multiple watermelons spilling out of arms and rolling down Dunster Street.
In addition to the watermelon floating in my belly this week, I carry invisible watermelons on a daily basis. What is Monkey Brain, if not carrying watermelons everywhere? This has only gotten worse with motherhood, and next week’s addition will surely make things worse. A couple of months ago, I ask Josh to turn of the pillow when he got into bed. Oh sure, pillow, light? Exactly the same. Thank goodness for wedding vows, which should really include the following: “I will love you no matter how many watermelons you carry, and will even help you pick up the dropped ones.”
Keiki, where are you? Let the mommybrain commence (or let’s face it, just get worse)!
For those of you ladies who live under a rock and have never seen Dirty Dancing, the above will mean nothing to you, so let me catch you up:
When Baby (Jennifer Grey) first meets Johnny (Patrick Swayze), she has paid her way into a staff party by helping out Johnny’s cousin Billy carry watermelons. When Johnny angrily says, “What’s she doing here?” Baby replies, “I carried a watermelon.” As the scene cuts away, she turns her head to the side and hisses under her breath, “I carried a WATERMELON?”
Any of you who have said something utterly stupid in the presence of an intimidatingly beautiful person has had this moment; one of the silver screen’s finest. This became shorthand among my college friends; at one point there was a boy crush who was only referred to as “Watermelon” because of my friend’s awkwardness in every encounter with him. There may have even been discussions of multiple watermelons spilling out of arms and rolling down Dunster Street.
In addition to the watermelon floating in my belly this week, I carry invisible watermelons on a daily basis. What is Monkey Brain, if not carrying watermelons everywhere? This has only gotten worse with motherhood, and next week’s addition will surely make things worse. A couple of months ago, I ask Josh to turn of the pillow when he got into bed. Oh sure, pillow, light? Exactly the same. Thank goodness for wedding vows, which should really include the following: “I will love you no matter how many watermelons you carry, and will even help you pick up the dropped ones.”
Keiki, where are you? Let the mommybrain commence (or let’s face it, just get worse)!
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Monkey Brain
I'm watching today's Oprah, which is about the adult children of Elizabeth Smart's kidnapper (Wanda Barzee). The youngest girl related a story about her mother serving up her pet rabbit for dinner (and told her daughter the next day). Whatever my mistakes or guilt as a mom, I'm doing A-OK.
28 Months: Jacob
Dear Jacob,
Happy 28th month birthday! You are such a fun little guy. We’ve been doing a lot of activities lately, and I have so much fun making puzzles, legos or racetrack with you, especially since we just got a new activity table from Melissa & Doug (thanks Jojo!). Seriously, kid, I’m having so much fun I don’t even get mad at Daddy when he disappears to the Internet while we play.
Soooo, very soon, you will be a big brother. Holy moly, I know that’s big news. I also know that you probably have NO idea about what’s coming your way. I mean, you are so good with babies, but when we bring the baby home from the hospital, he or she is going to stay with us. Forever. So you are stuck with each other, and man, that is a good thing. You are going to need someone to complain about your annoying parents. Someday I hope you will thank me for making you share your crib, your room, and our hearts.
Speaking of the hospital, there’s going to be a few days where you won’t see us, and we’ll come home with a baby, but don’t blame the baby, okay? You are going to have a really great time with A&P, and hopefully they can bring you to the hospital to see Daddy every day for a little bit, okay? It will be like that time when you stayed with your aunt, uncle, and baby cousin and got to play in that fun place with the ball pit. Wasn’t that fun? Yes, this will be just like that.
My only complaint? This power struggle with food. I know it’s not about the food, but I’m getting to my wit’s end over here. I mean, some days you gobble up salad, but most days you will only eat yogurt and toast with butter. And yet. I hear that at daycare you will eat noodles, or chicken nuggets, tacos (none of which you eat at home, btw). What’s the deal? I’m starting to look like a chump with the lunches that I pack, the items that you eat at home but not at daycare. I mean, is macaroni & cheese really “gwoss”? Don’t you think you should taste it first? My hope is that this is a developmental storm that we’ll get through, but I’m chronicling it here and now for when you have your own picky eater someday. Karma's a bear my love, Karma's a bear.
Love,
Mama
Happy 28th month birthday! You are such a fun little guy. We’ve been doing a lot of activities lately, and I have so much fun making puzzles, legos or racetrack with you, especially since we just got a new activity table from Melissa & Doug (thanks Jojo!). Seriously, kid, I’m having so much fun I don’t even get mad at Daddy when he disappears to the Internet while we play.
Soooo, very soon, you will be a big brother. Holy moly, I know that’s big news. I also know that you probably have NO idea about what’s coming your way. I mean, you are so good with babies, but when we bring the baby home from the hospital, he or she is going to stay with us. Forever. So you are stuck with each other, and man, that is a good thing. You are going to need someone to complain about your annoying parents. Someday I hope you will thank me for making you share your crib, your room, and our hearts.
Speaking of the hospital, there’s going to be a few days where you won’t see us, and we’ll come home with a baby, but don’t blame the baby, okay? You are going to have a really great time with A&P, and hopefully they can bring you to the hospital to see Daddy every day for a little bit, okay? It will be like that time when you stayed with your aunt, uncle, and baby cousin and got to play in that fun place with the ball pit. Wasn’t that fun? Yes, this will be just like that.
My only complaint? This power struggle with food. I know it’s not about the food, but I’m getting to my wit’s end over here. I mean, some days you gobble up salad, but most days you will only eat yogurt and toast with butter. And yet. I hear that at daycare you will eat noodles, or chicken nuggets, tacos (none of which you eat at home, btw). What’s the deal? I’m starting to look like a chump with the lunches that I pack, the items that you eat at home but not at daycare. I mean, is macaroni & cheese really “gwoss”? Don’t you think you should taste it first? My hope is that this is a developmental storm that we’ll get through, but I’m chronicling it here and now for when you have your own picky eater someday. Karma's a bear my love, Karma's a bear.
Love,
Mama
Monday, February 01, 2010
39 Week Checkup: Loooking gooood. . .
BP: 130/74 Fundal Height: 40 cm
Weight: +2 lbs
Cervix: 50% effaced, 1 cm dilated, -2 station
Oh Internet, I can hardly contain my excitement! While the above stats may look like a bunch of numbers to the average eye, they are happy numbers that bring some really great news.
Let’s start with the cervix, shall we? Hmmm, there's an ice breaker. . .Anyhoo. So my cervix is soft and thin, which is what you want at 39 weeks. I’m 1 cm dilated, and -2 station, which means that Keiki has started to move down into the pelvis. The baby starts at -3, and all the way out of the birth canal is a positive 3. This explains the fact that while my abdominal pain has passed, I’m feeling lots of pressure and discomfort in my pelvis. That said, it's a good pain, a pain that feels right. Even without jumping jacks, Keiki is moving along. Dr. B said she could feel Keiki’s head. Isn’t that wild?!
For the first time, Dr. B has been excited about VBAC. For the most part, she’s been pretty conservative and open about that from our first conversation about VBAC, when she said her success rate was 85%, mainly due to the fact that she is conservative about all the stars aligning. We talked about potential interventions, such as stripping membranes (to move along the dilation process), breaking my water, maybe a little pitocin, and while I’m not so keen on interventions (the pineapple that I just ate doesn’t really count), the discussion itself made me feel like Dr. B was giving her seal of approval. It was felt hard-won, and that felt wonderful. I didn't want a doctor who pushed her own agenda or completely cave to my agenda, whatever that may be. I hope that every pregnant woman can have such a great advocate.
Today’s physical exam, along with last week’s ultrasound has given us some really great news. And by great news, I don’t need to schedule a C-Section anymore. The plan has always been that if I get to my due date, we’ll schedule a C-Section, but that is no longer a necessity. Oh sure, lots of things can happen in the next week or two that may shift the tide, but right now, we are looking good for VBAC. And after a nice walk through Target, I’m cramping away and it hurts so good. Go, Keiki go!
After I had Jacob, I just immediately assumed that I needed to have a C-Section, done deal, that’s all she wrote. And then I started learning about VBAC, and opening up to that choice, as well as all the emotional work required to keep my options open. Despite all the good news above, I may end up with a C-Section after all. While I can’t say how I’ll handle that, what I know right now is that I’ve done everything I can to make the best choice for me and my family, and I am so grateful for that. I know that if I had stuck rigidly (barring medical necessity) to one camp or the other, I would have regrets and what ifs. My feeling is that the best birth is one that you feel good about and feels good to you, regardless of how the kid comes out. I don’t know that I would always have defined it as such or even thought about it at all, but I'm sure glad that I have. Go, Keiki go!
Weight: +2 lbs
Cervix: 50% effaced, 1 cm dilated, -2 station
Oh Internet, I can hardly contain my excitement! While the above stats may look like a bunch of numbers to the average eye, they are happy numbers that bring some really great news.
Let’s start with the cervix, shall we? Hmmm, there's an ice breaker. . .Anyhoo. So my cervix is soft and thin, which is what you want at 39 weeks. I’m 1 cm dilated, and -2 station, which means that Keiki has started to move down into the pelvis. The baby starts at -3, and all the way out of the birth canal is a positive 3. This explains the fact that while my abdominal pain has passed, I’m feeling lots of pressure and discomfort in my pelvis. That said, it's a good pain, a pain that feels right. Even without jumping jacks, Keiki is moving along. Dr. B said she could feel Keiki’s head. Isn’t that wild?!
For the first time, Dr. B has been excited about VBAC. For the most part, she’s been pretty conservative and open about that from our first conversation about VBAC, when she said her success rate was 85%, mainly due to the fact that she is conservative about all the stars aligning. We talked about potential interventions, such as stripping membranes (to move along the dilation process), breaking my water, maybe a little pitocin, and while I’m not so keen on interventions (the pineapple that I just ate doesn’t really count), the discussion itself made me feel like Dr. B was giving her seal of approval. It was felt hard-won, and that felt wonderful. I didn't want a doctor who pushed her own agenda or completely cave to my agenda, whatever that may be. I hope that every pregnant woman can have such a great advocate.
Today’s physical exam, along with last week’s ultrasound has given us some really great news. And by great news, I don’t need to schedule a C-Section anymore. The plan has always been that if I get to my due date, we’ll schedule a C-Section, but that is no longer a necessity. Oh sure, lots of things can happen in the next week or two that may shift the tide, but right now, we are looking good for VBAC. And after a nice walk through Target, I’m cramping away and it hurts so good. Go, Keiki go!
After I had Jacob, I just immediately assumed that I needed to have a C-Section, done deal, that’s all she wrote. And then I started learning about VBAC, and opening up to that choice, as well as all the emotional work required to keep my options open. Despite all the good news above, I may end up with a C-Section after all. While I can’t say how I’ll handle that, what I know right now is that I’ve done everything I can to make the best choice for me and my family, and I am so grateful for that. I know that if I had stuck rigidly (barring medical necessity) to one camp or the other, I would have regrets and what ifs. My feeling is that the best birth is one that you feel good about and feels good to you, regardless of how the kid comes out. I don’t know that I would always have defined it as such or even thought about it at all, but I'm sure glad that I have. Go, Keiki go!
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