Post from 16 weeks (forgot to post):
Pookie (sorry kid) is truly amazing, and gaining ground in many areas, not the least of which, mass. She is just shy of 20 lbs now, 16 weeks into life. Eric and I keep handing her off as arms tire and regain strength. She is incredibly smiley, a huge smile to start every morning, and has an absolute need to roll over regularly throughout the day. First roll-over inklings started with Grandma Eggler's visit 3-4 weeks ago. Now she whips herself over like a hot potato pancake. My favorite thing, just in time for mother's day, is her voice. She talks to us about all kinds of things, explaining them patiently to us. See the video for some footage. OK, its my second favorite, the first being that she's now giggling, and ticklish!
And now a note to you directly, my new love. Had a driveway moment during an NPR interview with Brad Meltzer, about his new book "Heroes for my son". From one of the stories of heroes, Lucille Ball had a rough childhood, chickens for friends, but found humor everywhere. What she learned is "Love yourself first and everything falls into line."
"If I could pick one lesson to teach my son, that's it. I want him to have perseverance, I want him to have kindness, but it's the battle we all fight with ourselves every day to accept ourselves for who we are," he says.
Nough said. Love you kid.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Declaration
Hmm. I may regret this at some point. But in the spirit of me now sharing intimate bits of my life with whomever decides to read about them, here is a link to a new experiment for me, losing weight. By May 31, 8 weeks from 4/5, I'll weigh 144 lbs. It's 6 lbs above my pre-pregnancy weight, so a generous 3 lbs each for the new additions. Wish me luck!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Wisdom from Wyoming
My first post. My public journal, capturing these moments that flow by so quickly, now inhabited by Hana May. These are for you baby. You now (literally) sit pooping on my lap as I type one handed. And you are soooo beautiful, child. Our Buddha baby.
So much wisdom I think is a reminder, things we forgot that we know. At the Chill spa, mountainside in Teton Village, after my heavenly facial (ice wine was in one of the masks), I sunk into the fuzzy couch with cucumber water in hand. And opened the box of zen wisdom cards, a bit skeptical and a tiny bit self conscious in my robe. But the compassion card was there just for me. Everyone is doing the best they can. Judge no one. Try to imagine what it's like for the other person. What a possibility! It totally "greased the wheels" for me for the rest of the great if somewhat sleep-deprived trip. I realized I was being a subtle and pretty constant jerk to Eric and told him, and felt my love for him deeply and newly.
Jean and Edan put on a gorgeous wedding in Jackson Hole. Everything was filled with love and lusciousness. I'll never forget the wild-caught tenderness of the cod at the Amangani reception, esp now that I've made a memorandum of it. Another highlight of the weekend was meeting Stacy and Frank Teasley and their 200 dogs. Specifically, their hospitality, Stacy's hand-cracked crab legs, Frank's stories about getting their whole operation going, and howling at the full moon with the 200 dogs in chorus. Stacy is Eric's coz Janet's husband John's sis. Extennnded family. Eric got to go on a snowmobile run to hotsprings with them too. Thanks g
uys! No boarding for me, still healing up, but I got to hike, and Eric shredded the mountain for both of us.
Speaking of family, here are all the cousins at the wedding. Aren't they gorgeous?
Today was a walk in the gift of 70 degree weather with Hana in Wicker Park. Sooo good roast beef sandwich at Milk and Honey Cafe. Something Hana teaches me is to look her in the eye when I engage with her. It lights her up right away. Babies are straight from God.
So much wisdom I think is a reminder, things we forgot that we know. At the Chill spa, mountainside in Teton Village, after my heavenly facial (ice wine was in one of the masks), I sunk into the fuzzy couch with cucumber water in hand. And opened the box of zen wisdom cards, a bit skeptical and a tiny bit self conscious in my robe. But the compassion card was there just for me. Everyone is doing the best they can. Judge no one. Try to imagine what it's like for the other person. What a possibility! It totally "greased the wheels" for me for the rest of the great if somewhat sleep-deprived trip. I realized I was being a subtle and pretty constant jerk to Eric and told him, and felt my love for him deeply and newly.
Jean and Edan put on a gorgeous wedding in Jackson Hole. Everything was filled with love and lusciousness. I'll never forget the wild-caught tenderness of the cod at the Amangani reception, esp now that I've made a memorandum of it. Another highlight of the weekend was meeting Stacy and Frank Teasley and their 200 dogs. Specifically, their hospitality, Stacy's hand-cracked crab legs, Frank's stories about getting their whole operation going, and howling at the full moon with the 200 dogs in chorus. Stacy is Eric's coz Janet's husband John's sis. Extennnded family. Eric got to go on a snowmobile run to hotsprings with them too. Thanks g
uys! No boarding for me, still healing up, but I got to hike, and Eric shredded the mountain for both of us.Speaking of family, here are all the cousins at the wedding. Aren't they gorgeous?
Today was a walk in the gift of 70 degree weather with Hana in Wicker Park. Sooo good roast beef sandwich at Milk and Honey Cafe. Something Hana teaches me is to look her in the eye when I engage with her. It lights her up right away. Babies are straight from God.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Buddy, meet Hana
On the advice of our doula, we brought home a blanket with baby smell on it before bringing baby home, allowing him to lick her feet upon her arrival. At first, he was intensely curious; he’d want to sniff her face at every opportunity and he’d sometimes jump up when we’d be standing with her. He’d also get very anxious whenever she’d cry, sometimes letting out a yelping bark.
Three weeks later, Buddy is seldom perturbed by her cries, and we are now able to sit on the couch with him with the baby in our arms! I think it’s mostly a function of time, but we’ve also tried hard to shape his behavior using positive reinforcement only - lots of clicking and treating. I confess that one time, when he jumped up as I stood with her, I impulsively blocked him with my knee sending him back to the floor on his side with a thud. He seemed unfazed, but I felt like a jerk.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Birth Story
Eric gets home from work just before 6 pm, and Aimee walks in minutes later, shuffling slowly with a slight forward bent and says, "I think this is it, Papa!" . The baby has been right occiput anterior (ROA) for as long as we could tell, and we know she needs to turn clockwise, past the posterior position, rotating the long way around to left occiput anterior (LOA). So we set out to turn her before active labor can begin. We start following a technique, provided by our doula, Abi Lynn, who came to our birthing class. Mom lies on her right side until the baby passes the right hip into posterior position. When the baby is posterior, we are to flip to left side lying--gravity should then assist her into LOA.
After some time lying on her right side, we're not sure of her position. Is she turning? We don't know. And then the back labor begins. We read about the signs of posterior position: constant back pain - check. The right hip which bulged as baby passed it, should now be even with left hip - check. Now for the most prominent sign of posterior position: a slight depression around the belly button or just below it. Holy moly, check! So we go for it and flip to left side lying. At first, there is respite between contractions and Eric goes to pack the bags, returning to apply counterpressure during each surge. Eventually, the back labor is constant and incredibly intense, and Eric has to apply constant counterpressure. For about two hours, we alternate positions: leaning over a ball and the kitchen counter, left side lying, etc. She doesn't seem to want to come around. Finally, our doula suggests left side lying in a tub of warm water. Aimee finds this heavenly. Eric pours warm water over her body when not applying counterpressure. Apparently Hana likes the water, too, for she turns after only about 15 minutes in the tub! We're ready now for the contractions to slow a bit, as our midwife Karla and Abi predicted. We hadn't been timing them during back labor. But now we find they are two to three minutes apart, and a minute in duration. Aimee says from the tub, "Eric, we need to go NOW!" Trying to get the rest of the bags packed while Aimee is surging regularly is almost comical, as is Aimee going down the stairs backwards to the car and kneeling in the front seat of the car facing backwards. She's afraid the baby might turn back (though almost impossible), and it just feels wrong to sit at this point. Aimee feels every bump in the road; who knew Ashland Ave was so rough?
Arriving at the hospital after hours, we go in the wrong entrance, and there's a long hallway between Aimee and the ER check-in desk! She takes a few steps, surges, moans, and shuffles forward again. Finally, they arrive at the desk and check in, and Aimee sits in a wheelchair awaiting someone to take her upstairs. And waits. Finally she gives up decorum and kneels backwards in the wheelchair, leans over the back, and moans away. Still no escort. Abi arrives, and convinces the clerk to let her wheel me up herself. In triage upstairs, Aimee is 9.8 cm!
She's pretty ready to push this baby out, but needs to get antibiotics in and working before getting down to business because she's Strep B positive. After hee-hee hoo-hoo breathing to delay the pushing phase for about an hour, Aimee starts pushing. And something pops out! It's the intact water bag, an apple-sized water balloon suspended there. And no meconium! After the bag is popped by the midwife because it was no longer providing cushioning for the baby, the baby drops from 0 to +2 almost instantly. After about 45 minutes of pushing, using the squat bar, sometimes biting the bar, Aimee gives a huge push and Hana May dives into the world and Eric's arms. Her two arms present along with her head, hands at her face, and the cord is wrapped around her neck. A bit blue and lethargic, it takes about 15 minutes of the nurses stimulating her to get her pink and screaming. Born 7 lbs, 10.7 oz at 1:13 am on January 20, she is just this side of Aquarius. Our little water baby.
After some time lying on her right side, we're not sure of her position. Is she turning? We don't know. And then the back labor begins. We read about the signs of posterior position: constant back pain - check. The right hip which bulged as baby passed it, should now be even with left hip - check. Now for the most prominent sign of posterior position: a slight depression around the belly button or just below it. Holy moly, check! So we go for it and flip to left side lying. At first, there is respite between contractions and Eric goes to pack the bags, returning to apply counterpressure during each surge. Eventually, the back labor is constant and incredibly intense, and Eric has to apply constant counterpressure. For about two hours, we alternate positions: leaning over a ball and the kitchen counter, left side lying, etc. She doesn't seem to want to come around. Finally, our doula suggests left side lying in a tub of warm water. Aimee finds this heavenly. Eric pours warm water over her body when not applying counterpressure. Apparently Hana likes the water, too, for she turns after only about 15 minutes in the tub! We're ready now for the contractions to slow a bit, as our midwife Karla and Abi predicted. We hadn't been timing them during back labor. But now we find they are two to three minutes apart, and a minute in duration. Aimee says from the tub, "Eric, we need to go NOW!" Trying to get the rest of the bags packed while Aimee is surging regularly is almost comical, as is Aimee going down the stairs backwards to the car and kneeling in the front seat of the car facing backwards. She's afraid the baby might turn back (though almost impossible), and it just feels wrong to sit at this point. Aimee feels every bump in the road; who knew Ashland Ave was so rough?
Arriving at the hospital after hours, we go in the wrong entrance, and there's a long hallway between Aimee and the ER check-in desk! She takes a few steps, surges, moans, and shuffles forward again. Finally, they arrive at the desk and check in, and Aimee sits in a wheelchair awaiting someone to take her upstairs. And waits. Finally she gives up decorum and kneels backwards in the wheelchair, leans over the back, and moans away. Still no escort. Abi arrives, and convinces the clerk to let her wheel me up herself. In triage upstairs, Aimee is 9.8 cm!
She's pretty ready to push this baby out, but needs to get antibiotics in and working before getting down to business because she's Strep B positive. After hee-hee hoo-hoo breathing to delay the pushing phase for about an hour, Aimee starts pushing. And something pops out! It's the intact water bag, an apple-sized water balloon suspended there. And no meconium! After the bag is popped by the midwife because it was no longer providing cushioning for the baby, the baby drops from 0 to +2 almost instantly. After about 45 minutes of pushing, using the squat bar, sometimes biting the bar, Aimee gives a huge push and Hana May dives into the world and Eric's arms. Her two arms present along with her head, hands at her face, and the cord is wrapped around her neck. A bit blue and lethargic, it takes about 15 minutes of the nurses stimulating her to get her pink and screaming. Born 7 lbs, 10.7 oz at 1:13 am on January 20, she is just this side of Aquarius. Our little water baby.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Notes to self on cleaning a route
1. Don't forget to ascend without your rappel device. But if you do forget, your belayer will tie it to the rope and send it up to you, but only after laughing and taking pictures of your stranded ass. (At this time you do not know how to tie a Munter hitch or any other improvised device so you are forced to accept the ridicule.)
2. Clip in direct(ly) to the top bolts. If you're me you use a single sling and notice a nascent kernel of panic as you ease your some of your weight on to it, wondering about the age of this borrowed equipment. Then the next day, you go out and buy two slings and vow never to use just one.
3. You are going to untie from your harness, so to prevent you from dropping the rope, you knot and clip the rope to a quickdraw on a left gearloop of your harness. Ask your belayer for sufficient slack as you do this.
4. Untie the rope from your harness and let your belayer know they can take you off belay. Your weight is now fully supported by the sling. Observe and control your panic response as you contemplate the risk exposure of a single point of failure. Remember again to go buy two slings.
5. Feed the rope end through the anchors (not the quickdraws!) from left to right. Through the anchors, not the draws. Left to right.
6. Knot and clip the rope into a (quick)draw on a right-side gearloop. You're doing this because you are about to unclip/untie from your left side, and this will prevent you from dropping the rope.
7. Unclip and untie the knot at your left.
8. Draw the rope through the anchors, from left to right, until you've brought the center of the rope to you; it's marked with a dye.
9. Set up your rappel device.
10. Since the rope is now secured by your rappel device, unclip and untie the rope from the draw on your right harness gearloop.
11. If there are any draws clipped to the top anchors, remove them and clip them to a gearloop.
12. Using your rappel device, cinch yourself upwards to put slack in the sling(s). Keep the brakes on. Unclip the slings. Your life is now in your brake hand. It's a good idea to let the folks on the ground know that you're now "off direct."
13. Easing off the brakes, descend to and pause at the next bolt, unclip the draw from the bolt, but leave it clipped to the rope. Drop the draw and let it slide down the rope to the next bolt where it will stop.
14. Repeat until you arrive at the first bolt.
15. All the draws you've just cleaned will have piled up at the first bolt. Instead of unclipping the last draw thereby letting them all clatter unceremoniously to the earth, first clip the many piled-up draws to your harness. Then unclip the final draw from its bolt and clip it to your harness.
16. Ease yourself to the ground.
17. Detach yourself from the rope, and pull the rope through the top anchors, right to left. Before the rope starts falling, warn the people around with a call of "ROPE!"
18. Bonus exercise: catch the end of the falling rope and you're owed a beer. Catch it such that the end is hidden inside your fist and you're owed a case. Need clarification on from whom these beers are owed.
19. Thank your belayer for a lesson well taught.
20. Bask in the relief of safety and the afterglow of adrenaline.
2. Clip in direct(ly) to the top bolts. If you're me you use a single sling and notice a nascent kernel of panic as you ease your some of your weight on to it, wondering about the age of this borrowed equipment. Then the next day, you go out and buy two slings and vow never to use just one.
3. You are going to untie from your harness, so to prevent you from dropping the rope, you knot and clip the rope to a quickdraw on a left gearloop of your harness. Ask your belayer for sufficient slack as you do this.
4. Untie the rope from your harness and let your belayer know they can take you off belay. Your weight is now fully supported by the sling. Observe and control your panic response as you contemplate the risk exposure of a single point of failure. Remember again to go buy two slings.
5. Feed the rope end through the anchors (not the quickdraws!) from left to right. Through the anchors, not the draws. Left to right.
6. Knot and clip the rope into a (quick)draw on a right-side gearloop. You're doing this because you are about to unclip/untie from your left side, and this will prevent you from dropping the rope.
7. Unclip and untie the knot at your left.
8. Draw the rope through the anchors, from left to right, until you've brought the center of the rope to you; it's marked with a dye.
9. Set up your rappel device.
10. Since the rope is now secured by your rappel device, unclip and untie the rope from the draw on your right harness gearloop.
11. If there are any draws clipped to the top anchors, remove them and clip them to a gearloop.
12. Using your rappel device, cinch yourself upwards to put slack in the sling(s). Keep the brakes on. Unclip the slings. Your life is now in your brake hand. It's a good idea to let the folks on the ground know that you're now "off direct."
13. Easing off the brakes, descend to and pause at the next bolt, unclip the draw from the bolt, but leave it clipped to the rope. Drop the draw and let it slide down the rope to the next bolt where it will stop.
14. Repeat until you arrive at the first bolt.
15. All the draws you've just cleaned will have piled up at the first bolt. Instead of unclipping the last draw thereby letting them all clatter unceremoniously to the earth, first clip the many piled-up draws to your harness. Then unclip the final draw from its bolt and clip it to your harness.
16. Ease yourself to the ground.
17. Detach yourself from the rope, and pull the rope through the top anchors, right to left. Before the rope starts falling, warn the people around with a call of "ROPE!"
18. Bonus exercise: catch the end of the falling rope and you're owed a beer. Catch it such that the end is hidden inside your fist and you're owed a case. Need clarification on from whom these beers are owed.
19. Thank your belayer for a lesson well taught.
20. Bask in the relief of safety and the afterglow of adrenaline.
Monday, March 30, 2009
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