Thursday, March 27, 2008

You're here!!

First of all, welcome to the world! I love you intensely. I won't repeat the whole birth story here, I don't think, but I'm sure you'll hear it plenty of times.

Hindsight is 20/20, and I just re-read the last post. Well, it turns out that I was right the first time -- my water did break at 1:15 on Sunday. And all that stuff where you were "pushing downward?" Yeah, those were contractions! Who knew?

Anyway, none of that matters nearly as much as the fact of you, how amazing and beautiful and strong and powerful and brave you are. You had a pretty rough start, but you fought your way better. Holding you is the best feeling in the world. You feel good, smell good... You are incredibly beautiful. Your dad and I just can't get enough of holding you and being with you.

Unfortunately, we're at home tonight without you. But I know the nurses are taking good care of you, and we will be there in the morning. We hope to not leave without you again.

Remember when I was still pregnant and I said I loved you already? A supernova atom bomb big bang of love has happened since then. It came in and exploded my heart.

I love you,


Monday, March 24, 2008

The beginning of the birth story...

Includes a lot of false starts. Your due date came and went. On Saturday the 22nd, I felt a lot of pressure and heaviness in my pelvis, and I had felt out of sorts all day. I woke up at 1:15 and felt moisture on my leg, so I got up and went into the bathroom. Whatever was on my leg was clear, so I peed and stood back up, and there was my mucus plug! Ew! I wasn't sure whether the clear fluid had been my amniotic fluid or not, so I put on a liner and went back to bed.

At 4:30, I woke up again, sort of checked the liner, and it wasn't wet. I had to go to the bathroom, though, so I got up anyway, and then some fluid gushed out. It was clear, maybe two tablespoons. I peed again, and my pee was florescent yellow due to all the vitamins I take. So whatever leaked out wasn't pee. I called Kaiser and they said to come in.

I took a shower, woke your dad up and asked him to toast me a bagel (he was very groggy and I had to explain why and what was going on), then packed a few things and called your grandma, who was set to take us to the hospital. Your dad took a shower, too, and then your grandma came and we all went to the hospital.

Well, the nurses there didn't have a record of my call or whom I had talked to. I think I accidentally called the other Kaiser hospital in the area. But they got me all checked in. I was not having any real contractions or in any pain, but they said I had to come in if my water broke, and I was pretty sure it had. I was worried that they were going to induce labor, which is supposed to make it hurt more!

We met our nurses, Debra and Janet, I think. They were both quite nice. Debra looked my age, but was about to have her third grandchild! Her daughter's name was Kara, too. They called the midwife in, and I thought she looked like she had just woken up from sleep. She was rubbing her eyes, and her scrubs had bits of down on them. Later, your dad said he noticed a sign that said "doctors' sleeping area," so I think she must have been asleep!

She checked me internally and said she didn't see any water hanging out, so she did an ultrasound to see whether there was still enough amniotic fluid for you. She found two pockets and said that because you still had enough fluid and I wasn't in labor and didn't seem to be leaking any more, they were going to send me home. I was relieved, actually, because I didn't want to be induced. I was hoping to start labor naturally. At that point, I was 3 cm dilated, 90 percent effaced, and you were at -2 station (which means about 2 centimeters away from my cervix).

That day was Sunday, and when we got home I went back to sleep and had a long nap, then read the paper. Then I called your grandma and we went to see a movie (Paranoid Park) and get dinner. That evening I watched some TV while your dad played on the computer. For some reason, you decided to start kicking up a storm! For probably two straight hours, you twisted, stretched, kicked, poked... I had to push on my belly to keep you from hurting me by stretching out too far. And when you stretched straight downward (which you were doing a lot of) it really hurt! Your dad read to me and patted my back, and then we both went to sleep when you calmed down.

At 12:45, I got up to use the bathroom and felt another gush of moisture on my legs. It was clear again, but I didn't want to be tricked into thinking it was my water breaking again. I used the bathroom, put on a pad, and went back to bed. There was more mucus plug, so maybe that's what it was before, too.

It's now 2:30, and I was restless and hungry and couldn't go back to sleep, so I'm playing around on the internet and having a bowl of Kashi. I decided to write this all down because I think you have a long birth story ahead and I don't want to forget stuff.

Love you already, and looking forward to the next chapter (so hurry it up, would you?)

Friday, March 21, 2008

Ollie ollie all-come-free!!

That's right; today's your due date. You can come out now! This has been a wonderful experience, pain and awkwardness aside. I have loved being pregnant with you, even when it was scary. But now I'm ready to meet you in person! I want to hold you, know what you look like, give you your name for real, feed you, watch your daddy hold you, nibble on your little feet, get to tell everyone all the dirty details, like just how much you weigh, how tall you are, what time you were born... I want to know what your birth story is.

I was so sure you'd be early. I've been dilated, you dropped, I'm HUGE... But just to prove me wrong, I think, you're hanging out inside. Now, I'm sure it's warm and comfy in there, but you should really come out and check out the world. You already missed Nowruz -- are you going to come on Easter? That's not nearly as cool, baby.

Well, I love you, and can't wait to meet you. Come out whenever you're ready (but the sooner the better!).


Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Almost time!

Dear Peapod,

I've been thinking a lot about you. I sit in your room and look at your crib and your things and just imagine what our life will be like.

What amazes me today is how much of your little life is already determined. Your genetics are, of course, and who your parents are, but so much more. When you're 80, if someone asks me where you were born, you will still say "Sacramento." Your childhood home is determined. Your first pet (although she's mine, I'm sure you'll think of her as yours) is curled up next to me.

I am also thinking of my role in your life. Until the instant you are born, I am not a mother -- no one's mother. But the instant that you are born, I will be your mother, forever and ever, and you will never know me as anything else. Isn't that amazing? And even when you see pictures of me as a kid, me as a teen, me and your dad before you were born... I will still be your mom, and you won't be able to really comprehend that I could have even been anything else.

I hope I deserve that. I mean, I know I get to be your mother just by virtue of getting pregnant and giving birth to you. But I hope that I do an admirable job. I hope that when things are rough, I am patient. I hope that when you are sick, I am comforting. I hope that when you talk, I listen. I hope that when there are choices to make, I make the right ones. I hope that you remember the things we do together -- walks, trips, reading, cuddling, singing songs... I hope I stick to my ideals most of the time, like healthy eating and little TV. I hope we have a lot of fun. I hope I help you become fully yourself, not something I want or your dad wants or the world wants, but something you want. I hope you know you can always come to us, that our love for you is unconditional. I hope you are happy. I hope you always feel you can count on us. I hope we don't let you down much. I hope someday you will understand how much we love you. I'm not even sure I know yet, but it feels like a lot.

I'm really looking forward to meeting you.

I love you already,