Archive for July, 2012

July 30th, 2012

cookie monster

David has a Sesame Street book called Rosita and the Beanstalk. It’s basically Jack and the Beanstalk with Sesame Street monsters. David LOVES to read about the “monsters” and often takes the book to bed with him. In the monster version, Cookie Monster is the giant living at the top of the beanstalk.

A week or so ago, David was playing as usual in our apartment when our upstairs neighbors came home — loudly. David pointed at the ceiling and said, “Noises?” I told him that the noises were from the people living upstairs. Suddenly David lit up “Tookie Monster! Tookie Monster!”

He thinks Cookie Monster lives upstairs. It’s cute.

Apparently Cookie Monster listens to loud rap music. Not so cute.

July 27th, 2012

this, is David

Allow me to put a smile on your heart.

 

 

 

July 26th, 2012

one month

I realized yesterday that I’ve only written one post about Lilly. I’m so sorry.

Lillian is already a month old. Yikes that was fast.

 

Lilly continues to be a wonderful baby, and we’re all so in love with her.

Two things:

  • She eats and sleeps like a champ, by newborn standards. We’ve had a couple long nights, just to remind us how good we have it the rest of the time. Seriously, David typically gets up more than she does at night.
  • Lilly is strong. She holds her head up for long periods of time and tries to push up on her arms during tummy time. Oh, and she ROLLS over and scoots herself all over her crib. I almost never find her where I left her.

David still loves her to pieces. We have to watch him closely because he doesn’t always know when he’s being too rough or that he can’t carry her. I can never leave him alone with her, because he tries to carry her off or feed her or push her in her swing (with such enthusiasm it might as well be an amusement park ride).

I let him help me burp her and change her diaper. When she cries when I’m getting clothes, diapers, putting something away, etc, David will stand next to her and say, “Shhh, mommy coming, mommy coming.” It’s the sweetest thing. He tries to share his toys and play ‘catch’ with her (that never ends well).

This is what happens when I do leave them alone, even for a minute: Lilly sleeping and hanging half off the couch because David tried to take her somewhere.

 

Here is David trying to “play” with Lilly. He doesn’t know she can’t breathe. I was actually trying to just take a picture of her with her headband, and right when I took the picture he decided to pinch her nose.

July 4th, 2012

my mother’s daughter

I grew up listening to stories of my brother being born before my mom could even change into a hospital gown, and my mom going from nothing to delivering my sister in 27 minutes.

I should have been more prepared.

Lilly was born about 35 minutes after we parked in the hospital parking lot, and 10(ish) minutes after my water broke. If you want the short version of what happens when you deliver that fast, here it is: no delivery room, no epidural, no doctor, one push.

The long version, for the curious few:

Around 9:30 Sunday night my contractions were 40 seconds long and 2-3 minutes apart, so I decided we’d wait an hour and then go to the hospital. I was painstakingly waiting for the ‘one-minute long, 3-5 minutes apart for an hour’ contractions they tell you to. I was also annoyingly paranoid of being one of those women who show up at the hospital ‘in labor’ and get sent home, so I kept waiting.

Feel free to laugh at me.

At 10:40, we called the babysitter (my sister). At this point, my contractions were uncomfortable, but still manageable. I didn’t feel like it was urgent that we get to the hospital. During our brief drive to the hospital, I looked at the clock at 11:16 and joked with Matt that unless she was born in 45 minutes, she’d be born on June 25th. It wasn’t so funny later. I also made a comment about how I didn’t think I was more than 3 centimeters dilated.

Feel free to laugh at me again (I was off by 5-6 centimeters).

We get to the hospital, the slowest nurse on duty eventually comes with a wheelchair, we go into a generic exam room to change into a hospital gown, and answer dozens of questions I felt could have been asked at a different time. After about 20 minutes of questions and waiting for the nurse to do something, I started jokingly asking about an epidural (I wasn’t really joking, I was just trying to be pleasant. I should have been like those screaming women in the movies).

Shortly after me ‘joking’ about an epidural and the nurse telling me that she was ‘almost done’ asking me questions and then she’d get us moved to a delivery room and check to see how far along I was, my water broke (it was about 11:50). That’s when I knew we weren’t leaving the exam room. The nurse finally checked to see how progressed I was and declared, “holy crap girl, you’re nine and a half centimeters” and left the room mumbling something about my epidural under her breath. She came back with a wheelchair and said that they were going to try to move me to a delivery room. She came to help me get into the wheelchair, but soon left the room swearing. With the wheelchair. (No one told me this then, but apparently they could all see Lilly’s head.)

It’s a sad moment when you realize you’re giving birth without so much as a cough drop for pain. And yes, at this point I was in considerable pain. I don’t have the words to describe it, and you probably don’t want me to anyway. I’ll admit that I was no longer trying to be pleasant, no longer just sitting in silence through contractions, and my arms hurt for two days after because of how hard I was gripping the side of the bed (and Matt). Eventually I resorted to biting the sleeve of Matt’s shirt and squeezing the life out of anything I could get ahold of.

The next 10 minutes were spent in frantic insanity. Nurses were RUNNING in and out with supplies to deliver a baby (this room had only a bed, sink, and computer for asking questions), my doctor was finally called (he didn’t make it in time), I was yelled at not to push. Suddenly I was told, “push for the shoulders” and Lilly was born at exactly midnight.

It’s hard to convey in written form just how fast it all happened; it went FAST.

My ‘recovery’ has been great. Aside from the painkillers they finally gave me almost 2 hours after giving birth, I only asked for 2 ibuprofen for a nurse-induced headache a day or so later. The hospital has a big jacuzzi tub in the maternity wing that I could use literally whenever I wanted, and that my friends is how you spend your nights at a hospital: in a big jacuzzi with water as hot as you can stand it and jets blowing full-blast.

Lilly is absolutely worth it. She’s seriously the BEST baby. I’ve been ‘on my own’ for the last few days, and so far having two kids is completely underwhelming. I’ve honestly been a little bored. I’ve cleaned the bathrooms, reorganized the pantry, cleaned out the fridge, made bread, did all the laundry, played with David, and napped.

If you’re not sick, feel free to visit.

July 1st, 2012

Miss Lillian

World, meet Lillian Grace.

Lillian was born at exactly midnight (12:00:05 to be precise) June 25, 2012*. She was 7 pounds, 2 ounces and 20.5 inches long.

During her insanely fast delivery Lilly swallowed some fluid, so when she was born she was ivory colored and immediately rushed to the NICU to have her lungs pumped clear and given oxygen. When Matt and I met her a couple hours later, she was already a healthy pink and doing very well. She stayed on oxygen overnight, so we didn’t get to hold her until about 8 am after they took her off oxygen. They kept her in the NICU for observation for two days, and we stayed one more night just to make sure she remained stable completely on her own.

It didn’t take long before we were all calling her “Lilly,” and I often find myself calling her Miss Lilly; she’s very dainty and lady-like. Not to mention, it’s easier for David to say “Lilly” than Lillian. The name is a combination of family names and personal taste: Lillian  is my great aunt’s name (a very special figure in our family) and Grace is a family name from several generations ago. We liked the sound of Lillian Grace, and Lilly is just the cutest nickname.

David LOVES Lilly. He gets jealous when I’m holding her and he’s not. He loves to hold her and kiss her and play with her hands. We have to watch him closely because he’ll try to pick her up (often bum first) and take her somewhere. The last few nights of Lilly sleeping in the crib, David has slept better than he has in a month. He loves to have “Baby Lilly” with him.

Don’t get me wrong, there has been some adjusting for David. He has his moments when he wants our attention when we’re giving it to her, but those aren’t super common. He looks for opportunities to test his limits and see if we’re paying attention, but for the most part he’s done phenomenally.

Lilly is the the most wonderful baby. She eats and sleeps well, already eating every 3 hours and sleeping for 4 and 5 hour stretches at night. She has dimples on both cheeks and smiles constantly in her sleep, and often when she hears David.

If you want to read about the labor and delivery, a post will follow. Trust me, this delivery deserves a post all its own.

* Our anniversary is August 25, Matt’s birthday is September 25, and my birthday is October 25 — So June 25 is the perfect birthday.