Why does this happen?

This whole baby raising thing is filled with fears that you are doing the wrong thing. For example, just now I was just doing my best to finish a Sunday Times crossword (it is my goal to complete one before Emmett heads off to either college or the army) while Emmett was sleeping and Andrea was reading a book of what each week of Emmett's life should bring, and Andrea read aloud that one should never handle a reptile and then a baby as reptiles carry a very, very bad form of salmonella. Well, this week I have been watching the neighbors' pets and Emmett was a little fussy yesterday so I took him to their house on the one day that I had to feed their snake. Feeding the snake meant putting the snake into a paper bag with two dead mice so I set Emmett on the bed and touched the snake, too. Now, I do not like touching snakes or reptiles at all, and in fact I would bet that I haven't touched a snake for something approaching twenty years prior to yesterday, but as soon as you put a newborn in my hands I am Steve Irwin. I have been spending the time since Andrea's reading trying to reassure myself that I did, indeed, wash my hands immediately and that, either way, I only touched the snake with two fingers, but this seems to be yet another on the list of things that you only find out after the fact that you are not supposed to be doing. Why I wasn't told at Emmett's birth not to touch snakes I just don't know.

Fourth weekend and a few firsts

This was Emmett's fourth weekend outside of Andrea and it was a weekend of firsts. Yesterday we got ourselves motivated (Andrea and I more than Emmett) and went downtown. Rather than drive, though, we took a chance and introduced Emmett to the local bus system. As we neared being ready to go we checked nextmuni.com to see our options only to learn that we had a bus arriving two blocks away in five minutes and after that about a 25-minute wait for the next bus. In the pre-Emmett days, having five minutes to catch the bus was no big deal, but with all of the things that are necessary to collect to leave the house now it was no small feat. We did get out the door with a fighting chance at catching the bus, though, and as we approached the stop the bus was pulling up. We hurried across the street, I pulled the top half of the stroller apart, Andrea quickly collected the train-wreck that resulted from a top-heavy, diaper-laden stroller bottom half, and we made it aboard. Once on the bus we were able to take the seats that are reserved for "seniors and those with disabilities" (though not explicitly new parents) and enjoy the MUNI system. As it was Saturday the buses weren't as crowded which was good for parental germ fears, and, like always, I kept from touching ANYTHING with my hands so I felt pretty safe still touching Emmett. Apparently there was a Greek parade or something like that on Market, so the bus could only get us to about Market and 10th. We walked to Van Ness station and took one of the underground MUNI trains, so Emmett got to take his first train ride, too. Yes, I really do love public transit.

Andrea did a little shopping downtown while Emmett and I cruised the streets. He was really good and just napped in his stroller as we rolled around making discoveries like a frozen yogurt shop I didn't know about. After Andrea was done we headed for home. We had intended to take MUNI home (Emmett's second bus trip!!), but unfortunately the Greek parade which we only heard about but never saw (I didn't even know about a sizable enough Greek population to not only have a parade, but to also shut down market for said parade) put about a 45-minute block on buses. We walked home along the bus line, stopping to change Emmett's diaper in the City Hall grass, and were pretty tired as I carried Emmett in my arms from City Hall home and Andrea is still not as healed as she would like to think she is.

Last night was dinner with Belinda and Nick at Millenium: the best vegan food money can buy. Unfortunately our reservations were so early that none of us had had sufficient time to have lunch settle, so we didn't get to eat as much of their food as we would have liked. The night was special as we wanted to ask Nick and Belinda if they would be willing to be Emmett's god-parents, and luckily they said yes. The waiter gave us a free dessert to celebrate Emmett's arrival and even though we were all stuffed we were still able to make room. (it is amazing, in their cookbook, and easy to make. For those interested you can search "millenium almond midnight" in google, it will show up as a google books link).

Today we were to attend Emmett's first post-birth baby shower (I guess he went to three while still in the womb). For those who don't like going to parties for fear of standing in the corner, drink in hand, no one talking to you, may I recommend attending a baby shower with a newborn. Sure, many of your conversations will be along the lines of: "oh, how cute...is it a boy or a girl;" "how old is he;" and "gosh he looks like such a good sleeper," but it sure beats staring at your shoes for an hour. The shower was very nice and was in a great space. It was kind of funny being on the other side of pregnancy and turning into the advice-givers. We walked home (uphill this direction) and after a little late-afternoon meal Emmett and Andrea are now spending a little downtime together.

For the diehards

There is something kind of nice about a moving picture as compared to a still, so I present for this rainy Friday night's entertainment a video of Emmett falling asleep!!! Yep, just as exciting as it sounds, but I assure you that those willing to spend the 39 seconds watching the video will receive a smile payoff near the end. Sleep bliss, indeed.

Registered with Uncle Sam

Emmett is official. His social security card showed up in the mail, so Emmett is now numberfied---although he is not allowed to sign the card until he turns 18 unless he gets a job before then. This reminds me about something I didn't mention in the blog earlier: when doing the whole birth certificate thing on day 2 the woman asked if we wanted to get a social security card at the same time. I was in a little bit of a wise-cracking mood and said something along the lines of "of course...he has to start earning his way soon, right?" to which the woman responded by telling us that there have been a number of times that temporary social security cards have had to be faxed to newborn parents (keep in mind we got Emmett's by his third-week anniversary of birth) as they were "working" as newborn models for places like Gap Kids or what-have-you. So, yes, Emmett could be supporting us already and is hence already a slacker that just sleeps and eats. I was wondering just now, though, what is to be done about a signature on the social security card if a baby starts working, but then remembered that I have never signed mine. I guess a working baby is a law-breaking non-signer, just like me.

Fun times in the city

Busy couple of days and only getting back to this now. Sunday was Emmett's first Easter (his parents, heathens they are, didn't realize it was Easter was coming until a day or two before). The day was beautiful in the city and a whole gaggle of friends got together in the park for food, conversation, bocce, and badminton. It is pretty great to know that Emmett is going to be around such a great group of people that really care about him, too. Speaking of Emmett, he was a pretty good kid throughout with the exception of an explosive potty show that he put on for onlookers (I apologize for fixating on this as a theme for him, but that is pretty much all he offers for entertainment right now).

Monday was back to work for a part-day. My mom came into town for her first visit with her first grandchild (and for her first visit to my workplace). She ended up holding Emmett for a five-hour sleeping stretch on Monday night that was only interrupted around 12:30am when I decided I really wanted to go to bed so we were going to have to move him.

Tuesday, today, we went into the park to the Conservatory of Flowers' butterfly exhibit. It was pretty neat and I was glad we made it. Emmett didn't seem all that excited about the butterflies, though part of the reason, no doubt, is the fact that his has about an 18" range away from his eyes over which he can focus on objects---and unfortunately no butterflies would hover within that range. The one thing that he was really excited about was the cut-out board that he could put his face through and have his picture taken. I have attached one at left.

The rest of the day was slow and relaxing. He just completed a 5ish-hour nap and post-eating seems like he is ready for bed (as am I).

Record distance

Andrea, Emmett and I hit the road for our longest post-birth walk together to date. We headed out the front door unsure of what direction to head finally settling on "Castro direction." I had a credit at Aardvark books burning a hole in my pocket, so this was our one defined destination. We made our way through Duboce Park where we checked out a prospective play area for when Emmett comes of age, walked very pretty Noe St., and finally made our way to Crossroads on Market where Andrea and I each picked up a shirt and Emmett napped. Next Aardvark Books to use that credit, and afterwards Burger Meister where a burger, fries and malt gave us the strength to make it back toward home. A quick stop at the video store for a dvd that we are now too tired to watch, and the rest of the night has been spent recovering. Using bikely.com I was able to put together our route, shown on the map at left, giving a grand total distance of 2.9 miles. Yes, post-birth recovery is in full-swing.

The fine art of sleep

Lest there be those that think that one is born with natural napping skills, I present for you exhibit one, at left, where we compare 14-day-old Emmett's form to 5.75-year-old Malcolm's (much more in cat years). One can see how at ease Malcolm looks with his weight perfectly balanced, all appendages held tightly to the body for warmth, and his head lightly resting on his head. Emmett, on the other hand, still struggles for comfort with half his body in the crack of the couch, arms uncovered, and face pressed against the fabric in a way that is sure to leave a mark. Sad.

However, I can report that Emmett is improving, and the picture below, taken just a few minutes ago (day 16), illustrates that he is starting to pick up the finer points of napping (more comfortable position, etc.). Yes, although we see progress, he still has a lot to learn from his brother, Malcolm---who was tutored by the nap grandmaster: Jackson.

C Student

Today we went to the pediatrician where Emmett weighed in at a whopping 8lb3oz, passing his birth weight by a full 6 oz. He is gaining 1 oz/day, which is right on schedule for a newborn. Oh, he also is up to 21" and his noggin is now a full 36cm (I love the mixed measuring units between cm and inches in the same doctor's office---when will we learn?).

The doctor plotted Emmett's weight on a curve that has the distribution of weight and height as a function of age. For a two-week-old baby Emmett is sitting right at the 50 percentile mark in both measurements, so we learned that he is a very average baby---a regular ol' C student.

Tonight I completed my first ever Emmett sewing project (and second lifetime, as well): a diaper pail cover. We had a Diaper Champ that we had bought second hand to hold diapers and we hated it (it had gotten undeserved rave reviews for use with cloth diapers), so we purchased a new all-metal can (couldn't find one used) with a simple metal lid and I made a elastic-topped liner that could be tossed in the machine with the diapers on each washing. Sure, it is a simple project, but I kept thinking of it as a training run for making Emmett's halloween costumes and then costumes for him for his future roles in plays directed by Laura and set-designed by Carlos, when they return to the city from their respective advanced-degree studies on the East Coast. Next in the training program will be diaper covers.

The honeymoon is over

Today was my first full day back to work since Emmett popped out two weeks ago. Unfortunately Emmett decided that today would be his first full day of not being a happy, sleepy baby. Apparently Emmett rested and relaxed until around 11:30 this morning and then decided that he would be whiny and want to feed constantly from then until just before I arrived home at 6:00pm when he would finally take a nap and pretend to be an angel for me. I was not fooled by the sleepy one as Andrea had called me around 4:30 telling me that the lunch she had prepared for herself just as the whole episode was starting was still sitting on the table, uneaten. At least we have pictures like the one at left to remember when he was still a peaceful child.

It is no fun going back to work and leaving Andrea and Emmett in the morning. Luckily we have our second pediatrician appointment tomorrow for which I will be returning after only a half-day of work. We will find out if Emmett is back to birth weight then----perhaps making weight tomorrow is the reason for the 6 hour feeding frenzy that occurred today?

Things I have learned, Vol. I

-What a onesie is. For the trip home from the hospital, Andrea had chosen a favorite onesie for Emmett to wear made by a student of Allie's. Unfortunately, I dressed him and didn't know a onesie from a t-shirt. For those who, like me, are not in the know, what makes a onesie special is that it has a long tuxedo-like tail in the back and a matching one in the front, each with snaps that allow it to wrap around the diaper (the reason one wants it to do this I have yet to learn). I learned what a onesie is by not utilizing these snaps and instead allowing the tuxedo tail in the back to insert itself into the diaper where Emmett's very green movements drastically altered the color of this favorite, white onesie. It is good to know that a day in the sun will do a good job of naturally bleaching a greened onesie back to white. Side question: are those shirts that seemed popular about 10 years ago for women that perform essentially the same function called onesies as well?

-Babies are often (always?) born with a hole that resides between the butt cheeks that is not the anus. During the first changing or two I actually thought this was the anus (it is located north of the anus) and only when I really lifted him up did I learn that there was a more important hole to clean. I ended up asking our pediatrician about this secondary hole on our day 5 doctor visit, and she informed me that it has to do with the termination of the spinal column and that it is only something doctors care about if the bottom can't be seen easily by the eye. You can see the bottom of Emmett's (I was going to post a picture, but thought better to keep the blog PG).

Late night reading

Emmett is a sleepy baby much of the day, but there is something about the 10-11pm feeding that wakes him right up. Andrea and I have gotten into a little pattern where she feeds then I hang out to wide-awake Emmett for an hour or two until he is ready to sleep, we go to bed, then Andrea gets up with him to feed when he wakes again. Emmett's and my awake time has been filled with reading quite a bit, and I am learning that there are some things that are much easier to read out loud than others. I have read him a few articles from the newspaper, mainly concerning deciding the Democratic nominee for president (Emmett feels like this has taken up most of his life and he is ready to be settled on a candidate), and these have worked out OK. He and I have recently finished the first book in the "Series of Unfortunate Events" collection. We chose this book as the Magnetic Fields were the last concert Emmett heard but didn't see due to complete obstruction by uterine wall and Lemony Snickett appeared as special guest in the form of Daniel Handler. This was very easy to read out loud (one might even say designed to be so), so although we didn't love the book we might give the later books a try.

One miserable failure was the Jon Anderson's biography of Che. Much of this was my fault as I was 550 pages in when I started with Emmett: the motorcycle trip through S. America had taken place, Cuba had been overthrown, and the Bay of Pigs and missile crisis had already taken place, so Emmett did not really get what really drove Che's desire to spread revolution throughout both S. America and the Congo. The other thing was that it really was not easy to read out loud with the names of places, people and events that did not roll off the tongue as easily as "Count Olaf," "Justice Strauss," or "Violet Baudelaire" from Lemony Snicket. We tried as best we could, though, but Che's story went back to the library this weekend after three renewals and a few overdue days unfinished. There is some kind of lesson in this, but I can't seem to put it into words.

Emmett in action

Boring, I know, but for those who want to see what the real, moving Emmett looks like I thought I would put a video on youtube (the seeming annoyance and finally boredom with the camera is pretty cute, though). We have been pretty fortunate as this video is a pretty good example of "fussy" so far. Let it be known, however, that we don't think this is the way things are going to stay.

Ratios

While waiting for our prescription yesterday, Andrea, Emmett and I went into Gap Kids (aka the best place in town to buy children's clothes handmade by real child laborers---we didn't buy anything). In the store they had a sign that listed the length of baby's feet with age, and I was surprised to see that they said that a 18 month-old child has feet that are about 5" long, which is about 1/2 the length of my foot, whereas the rest of an 18 month-old is much less than half my size. So, I thought I would look at the fraction of a Damon Emmett is currently:

• Height: Emmett 20", or about 27% of me
• Weight: Emmett 7 lb 9 oz, or about 4% of me
• Head circumference: Emmett 13.8", or about 59% of me
• Foot length: Emmett 3.1", or about 31% of me
• Hand length: Emmett 2", or about 27% of me
  

It is completely fascinating to me that there is such variation in how much growth he will undergo to make it to adulthood for his different parts. I guess, though, the only things that are aberrant are a baby's large head and its low weight. The rest of a baby is pretty much a quarter-sized adult. That is nuts.

Shared due date party

Today our friends Alex and Anne brought their son Augie to our house for a walk in the park. Though Augie is two days older than Emmett, they shared the same due date (today, March 13), and as a result the same conception date which means that though Augie is older than Emmett, he is not really. So strange.

This was both Emmett's and Augie's first play-date with anyone. As you can see in the picture, they really seemed to have a good time together (Augie, left, Emmett, right). The walk in the park was Andrea's longest stroll since popping Emmett out, and was therefore very encouraging for Andrea's recovery.

The day's other big event was Emmett's umbilical cord fell off this evening. I took the bike and trailer to pick up a newly purchased dehydrator and when I returned Emmett's cord was sitting on the edge of the sink (Andrea placed it there). The waiting is over: we now know that Emmett has an innie. I just took the picture below and while trying to properly record the new belly, the uncovered water rocket just south of the belly button fired on the camera and Emmett's face---the reason for the dour look.

Out for lunch

We got out of the house to take care of a few things. One was to weigh Emmett (still floating around 7lb 9oz, so not back to his peak weight just yet) while another was to pick up a prescription. Afterwards, to celebrate Emmett's one-week anniversary of being outside Andrea, we went to lunch at Cafe Gratitude, where Andrea was rich and elated, together we were bountiful, I was celebrating, and Emmett was just plain tired (for those not from San Francisco or at least familiar, all dishes and drinks at Gratitude have names like 'I am enchanting', one orders a dish by repeating this name, and the waitperson then gives the affirmation 'you are enchanting' or whatever you ordered is titled. It is a locale not for those those unable to restrain their sarcasm---luckily Andrea and I can at times). We finished with their living or raw pumpkin pie (sorry---I am creative), which is one of the best pumpkin pies in the universe. I bought their recipe book after lunch when I saw that the recipe for the pie is in it.


Upon arriving home, everyone was tired out so it is nap time in the front room while I play at the computer. Even Malcolm got in on the action (camouflaged on the couch on the right in the picture to the left).

Note to future guests...

Emmett has transitioned to peeing in the toilet, so you can feel comfortable washing your hands in our sink once again. Thank you

Elimination Communication (aka peeing in the sink)

I woke up at 4:00 this morning deciding that I was going to take the first steps toward diaper-free living. Our landlord told us about the new rage amongst touchy-feelie parents called Elimination Communication, or EC for short. It is based on what those in some countries still do to this day and we in the "developed" countries stopped some time ago, which is be in touch with your child enough that you know when it has to pee or poo and hold the child over the container where these things go (wikipedia entry about EC here, more serious website here). I was intrigued when told about it and was motivated by Emmett's desire to urinate every time he is uncovered, so at 4:00 I gave it a go while Andrea got ready for a feeding.

The method was pretty simple: hold him with his back to my stomach aimed where I am hoping the pee will go and make a 'sssss' sound to encourage (example technique, left). Right off he did it---hooray...one diaper saved. I have tried with subsequent pees and am batting about 4.5-for-7 with the .5 coming from the fact that half went in the sink (what I am using now---all future guests please know that I am cleaning the sink afterward) and after I thought he was done half went all over the floor.

I am going to have to read up some more on how to do the poo part (I know the trigger sound can be a grunt, but know little else). It is a little embarrassing how excited I am about this.

Three pictures

A few favorite pictures so far. I will try to get better with adding pictures.

Pediatrician visit

We survived our first weekend at home. I started this blog a few days behind, so I am going to have to give up on what has happened a couple of days ago and get up to the present with a quick jump. I will just mention that Andrea has had a pretty rough recovery healing her tears (rhymes with fares not years), though she has made significant progress through the weekend. In fact, today was her first time outside the house since returning home from the hospital and the reason was a trip to the pediatrician.

Sadly, we were a little nervous as this would be our first time collecting all necessary Emmett paraphernalia (diapers, spare clothes, etc.) and we decided to give ourselves an early departure goal. There was a bit of a miscommunication on the goal and I thought that we were late for the appointment as we drove off, but Andrea informed me that we were just barely late on the goal and pretty early for the appointment. Actually, we were half-an-hour early to the appointment and as a result we learned how newborns are treated at the pediatrician. While we were sitting in the waiting room the receptionist asked a toddler and parent to please leave the waiting room and wait in the hall. I thought that the toddler might be ill and considered it thoughtful to do this. However, the next toddler came, checked in, and was promptly asked to wait in the hall. As toddlers were stacking in the hall, we realized that they were asking and other children to wait in the hall as little five-day-old Emmett was susceptible to anything the kids might be carrying so, as we were still 25 minutes early, our two adult bodies were taking up very few of the possible seats, and pretty soon the hall would be filled with uncomfortable toddlers, we left for a walk around the block so that those germ carriers could have the room.

Returning at the proper time, Emmett was checked and the doctor seemed happy with his progress. His last weighing was Saturday where he tipped the scales at 7lb 4oz. Today he was 7lb 9oz, and one ounce a day is what is expected. Him returning to his initial fighting weight (7lb 13oz for those who might have forgot) means we sleep as long as he does rather than waking him for feeding, so it could be any day now. His jaundice is on the out (an example of our effective treatment pictured below---he loves this and conks out immediately---I think he is related to malcolm) and he grew slightly (20" to 20.5"), though the pediatrician admitted that the height measuring is very inaccurate. He peed all over the scale, so that was good, too. We realized that in the packing we forgot plastic bags to bring the dirties home, but I believe that was our only oversight.


The other exciting event was Emmett and I made our first trip to the hardware store together. This was all the way to Haight Street to get dowels for a project that will probably get discussed here soon. We were cruising the stroller that our friends gave us (pictured below) and that thing is rock and roll. Emmett was out the whole trip and Andrea got a nap at home, too. It was pretty funny how I noticed every Haight-hanger's cough, lit cigarette, etc. along the way and steered Emmett far away, whereas I had walked Haight without paying any mind many dozen times previously. A different world for us now, indeed.

The hospital stay

Something that I haven't mentioned yet is that not long after the birth Andrea and I settled on the name: Emmett Foster. I hadn't heard Andrea say this before, but she said that the way we should spell his name is with two e's, two m's, and two t's, so that is how it is. Within about 90 minutes of birth Emmett was having his first go at breast feeding and he seemed to pick it up pretty quickly. There is nothing that warms the heart more than seeing your wife supply nourishment for your child, I am convinced of this.

Two hours after birth, all of the clean up and post-birth testing and measuring was done. Andrea was put into a wheelchair, Emmett was piled on top, and I collected our hospital bag and other trinkets from the room and we were moved to the post-delivery room. The room we were given had a great view facing south from the hospital (California and Parker) on the fourth floor. There was a typical hospital bed with its accompanying feeding tray, an uncomfortable plastic chair, a rolling sleeper/carrier on wheels for Emmett and (eventually) a foldout cot where I would sleep. We had our own large bathroom with a shower. We were in the room by 11:00am, and throughout the day we had a number of excited guests. It was really great to have so many people thrilled to meet little Emmett and congratulate Andrea on a job well done.

By 10:00pm, the last of our guests had left. Andrea and Emmett had spent the day learning how to breast feed (good at times, more difficult at others) and all three of us were very tired as Andrea and I (and Emmett??) had been awake for something like 40 hours. Emmett and I slept together on the cot for a couple of hours before Andrea fed him again (3 hour schedule). After the feeding he was fidgety and I couldn't get him to settle and stop crying. Finally, in the lowest of low points of my life (well at least the lowest for Emmett's short life), I had to ask the nursery if the could watch him for a couple of hours while Andrea and I got a little sleep before Emmett's next feeding. Asking them to take him away is embarrassing to admit, even now, as I feel like we were failure parents already, but we were really falling apart at this point. That short, uninterrupted sleep was immensely helpful, though, and Emmett has not been out of our sight since.


The next day (Thurs, March 6) was much of the same with friends and family visiting, continued breastfeeding practice, and occasional visits from the nurses or doctors for checks on Andrea and Emmett. Our pediatrician informed us that Emmett and Andrea have somewhat incompatible blood types which had given him a slight jaundice which could be treated by short spells in the sun and lots of bowel movements (by Emmett), so the faster Andrea's milk came in the better off we were going to be.

An interesting side note on the exams of Andrea: I had no idea that when a woman gives birth her whole belly doesn't go away pretty immediately. This was news to me, but apparently a woman looks like she is about five months pregnant after giving birth. Since Andrea had been in bed pretty much straight since birth, I didn't know she still had a five-month-pregnant body until the nurse arrived to give the first post-birth check that her uterus had shrunk properly (another amazing thing that happens, but I am going long here), and started pressing very deep into Andrea's still-pregnant-looking belly. For someone that had to be trained to be extremely careful around that pregnant belly, I have to tell you that this was a very troubling sight---akin to being trained through life not to touch a hot stove and watch someone rest an open hand on one. I really felt sick to my stomach when I saw this.

Oh, also on day two was Emmett's hearing test. For this they put a ear-covering speaker over each ear, an electrode on his forehead and two on the base of the back of his neck. Sounds play in each ear and they measure reactions while trying to subtract off the random movements he is making just being a baby. The technician explained the test and that Emmett had to score 160 in each ear to pass. I had been told about the test earlier in some class and that it is not uncommon for children to fail and that they often pass when the test is administered again a week or so later. Well, Emmett passed in one ear and failed in the other (with a score of 158). The technician fully expected me to go into one of those psycho parent "what's wrong with my child? will kids make fun of him? will he get into harvard?" sort of things and kept saying "I am sure he will pass later. Are you sure you are OK?" and so on. She said she could re-administer the test right then since he was all hooked up, I said sure, and he passed with a 210 or something like that (the accuracy of this test is no doubt in question by the wildly different scores, but also the fact that during the test the technician continued to move the speaker around saying "sometimes the numbers improve if I do this" made me very suspicious of the test telling much of anything). It was comforting to know that at age one day Emmett had already failed and then passed his first test on the re-try---he's a strong C student.

They gave us a "fancy" celebration dinner (little nicer food, table cloth, bubbly apple juice) that night. After the meal (but not a result of), our second night's rest was much better. Our swaddling had vastly improved, we had gotten some rest the night previous, Emmett was finding satisfaction in the colostrom Andrea was providing, and we were practiced in the art of meconium removal from Emmett's bottom. At four in the morning, a nurse came by to take Andrea's vitals and to take Emmett away for a blood screening. The trick with this, I am convinced, is to take the baby away in the middle of the night so that the parents will just let him go and not witness them prick the child. I was having none of it however, and dragged my bleary-eyed, morning-breath self into the nursery with Emmett. Surprisingly, he only wimpered with the first prick (had to be done twice) and didn't complain as the nurse literally milked the blood out of his foot. I had my finger in his mouth the whole time to sooth him, and it worked wonders. They also re-weighed Emmett and he had dropped to 7lb 3.7oz, a 7.5% decrease (10% max is considered good).

The rest of the night was a good sleep (Emmett bouncing between Andrea's bed and mine), and the next morning we were pretty antsy to get home. A last visit from the ob/gyn, another from the pediatrician, and we were cleared for Emmett to get to see his new home and meet his older brother, Malcolm.

note...

Just in case anyone is reading this, I am trying to get caught up with what has happened to date, so it is best to read from the very first post (at the bottom) upward.

The "just after"

Our doctor immediately put the baby on Andrea's chest and he gave a little wimper. I haven't mentioned this previously, but there were a number of times throughout the process that I got teary eyed---at times actually crying. When we were told that Andrea was 10 cm dilated, I was so incredibly proud of and impressed by her that I got teary-eyed. When the head first appeared, I had troubles continuing my counting for similar reasons. However, when the whole baby was brought up onto Andrea, there was no holding back. I was so amazed by Andrea to have gone through what she had without any sort of pain-relief and I was so happy for what looked to be a real baby, even with a little bit of a cone head.

Andrea, however, is a little different. Her sister calls her the "ice princess" as Andrea is not one to get teary for much of any reason and she actually kept dry eyes for the arrival. This, of course should be tempered by the fact that she had gone through something extremely painful and difficult, but even without tears it was very obvious that she was an extremely happy mother.

The rest of the "immediately after" was pretty much as one would expect: a quick wiping down of the baby with a towel, the attachment of a hat so that we would still love our child with his cone head, the cutting of the umbilical cord (although the texture is as gross as I imagined, yes, I cut it), and general clean-up. With a pretty much effortless push the placenta came out, and the doctor then went to work stitching up the not insubstantial tearing that Andrea had suffered (it is amazing the medical work that can go on a person with little notice if that person has her newborn in her arms).

We kept the baby on Andrea for about an hour before I went with him to do have a few procedures performed: weighing (7lb 13oz), measuring (20"), vitamin K shot, and eye treatment. We passed on the Hep-B, the anti-bacterial washing (benefit for nurses: they don't have to wear gloves to handle baby. benefit for us: they have to wear gloves to handle baby...plus antibacterial stuff is icky when not needed), and circumcision. After the stitching was completed, Belinda, Nick, and Luisa came in and there were few dry eyes in the house (Andrea's only?). Happy times indeed.

The big push

Andrea started out pushing on her back sometime around 5:45am with only the attending nurse and me in the room. There were a number of things that didn't seem to be clicking for the pushing---the goal was three 10 second pushes per contraction and Andrea was on her back for this stage. She was getting very dizzy with each push and would only get one or two full pushes per contraction. Additionally, her technique was a little off so she wasn't getting the baby far down the tube (it started at -1cm pre-pushing for those in the know). At about 6:45 a couple of things changed: the nurse decided that Andrea should give pushing while on her side a try and our ob/gyn showed up (after the change of position). The nurse had called our physician a little earlier without telling us why, so I had a feeling that something was wrong as the pushing wasn't going anywhere. However, when Andrea went to her side some progress was made so that by the time our ob/gyn walked in the door it looked like the baby really was going to make its way out, easing my fears.

Not long after our physician's arrival, the head made its first appearance (a quick side note: if you would have asked me a few months ago I would have never thought that I would have anything to do with any action taking place south of Andrea's belly button. I don't have a great fondness for some medical procedures, so I figured I would spend all of my time being a cheerleader in the face region. However, not long after Andrea was up on the table, I was peeking down to the action region). The head was a hairy, strange-colored, pea-sized mass that only peaked through for a second during a contraction and then went back into hiding, and without a professional by my side I am not sure I would have identified it as a head. The excitement that the doctor and nurse showed at the appearance of what they said was a head was infectious and their encouragement that the baby would be out in a few minutes was great news. Not long afterward another nurse showed up to relieve the first nurse (somewhere around 7:15 I would guess), and as the first nurse left she told Andrea that with a few good pushes the baby would pop out.

By this time, it is worth noting, Andrea had the art of pushing much more under control. She was not getting dizzy with the pushes and would survive three and sometimes four pushes per contraction---she was really quite amazing. However, progress was very slow. The pea-sized 'head' made its way to black bean, garbanzo bean, kidney bean, and so on over a series of very painful contractions. The new nurse brought with her a very positive and encouraging demeanor and every time the head would climb the bean ladder before returning into hiding I was convinced by her words that the next push would be the last one. This was not to be the case, however, and there would be another set of pushings, another appearance, another disappearance, and another wait for the next contraction. At one point I commented to the doctor that it is kind of surprising the the body, once pushing starts, slows contractions so much from their 2-3 minute spacing during the earlier labor. She let me know that I was crazy and showed me the chart that had the contractions maintaining the same frequency, and I realized how strange this all was where you pass from one part of labor where you dread the contraction giving the feeling that they come too fast to the part where the baby is on its way and you (as observer, not as mother, perhaps) get so excited for each contraction and the possibility of the child popping out that the time between contractions feels like an eternity.

Something that I forgot to mention is that the first nurse mentioned that the baby had a bit of a cone head. That will be an important detail soon. Anyway, the visible part of the baby's head continued to get larger with each push, and though the doctor, the nurse, and I were more excited with each little bit more that showed (and encouragement that the next push was 'the one'), Andrea found it difficult to share in the joy we had as she was paying dearly in pain for each increase in appearing bit of head. Apparently Belinda, Nick, and our friend Luisa (who we didn't know had shown up at the hospital as further support) had a very different impression on the other side of a closed door of what was taking place, as there would be excited countings of ten and encouragement to "push through the pain" that would culminate with a not-so-pleasant yelling or screaming at the end of our counting. I didn't think Andrea was yelling very loudly, but from what I was seeing from my vantage point I thought that every syllable (even the profane ones) was well-deserved.

Somewhere around 8:15 or so I learned that a full term baby's head is not the size of a silver dollar. When our baby's silver dollar-sized head appeared it looked like the completed edges of a full head and when that appeared I was convinced that the one birthing term I knew, "crowning," would be declared and Andrea could rest, her work done. No, a baby's head is not the size of a silver dollar. The coned head that was mentioned earlier was all I was seeing and the blood, etc. that covered this bit of head shadowed it in a way that could convince those that think that a baby head is the size of a silver dollar that the end has been reached---especially when that someone can hear the agony that his wife is going through and wishes dearly that a baby's head is indeed that small.

Andrea continued to push with each push more painful than the last. The doctor applied copious amounts of mineral oil to the baby's head to ease its exit and real progress was being made. A change happened in the doctor at around 8:30---she had been massaging Andrea's perineum and adding oil, and without saying that things were actually really progressing (they had said it could be the "next push" for at least an hour now) she started putting on the full-protection outfit with booties, gown, plastic sheet for the bed, etc. The end of the table had a special fall-away section that I didn't know about which allowed the doctor in her space suit to get up very close to the action and she made that adjustment. She really believed that things were progressing apparently and at 8:49 the baby's full head (larger than a silver dollar) appeared, the doctor had Andrea slow her pushing, and in what I am confident was less than two seconds the entire baby was out. Our doctor held it up and said "here is what you got" knowing that we didn't know the gender and at once we could see that we had a new little boy.

Hospital

Belinda and Nick showed up in no time and the four of us (baby doesn't count yet) made our way to the hospital. At 2:00am we arrived and were shown to the pre-admittance screening room. Andrea was hooked up to devices to measure the baby's heart rate and contractions, and the nurse performed a cervical exam where she found that Andrea was 4.5-5cm dilated and therefore would be admitted to a labor/birth room. In the birth room Andrea was outfitted first with hard-wired probes for heart rate and contraction and shortly after cordless so that she could move around. For the next few hours Andrea endured contractions in many positions, but seemed to spend the primary amount of time in the rocking chair or on the birthing ball. Belinda and Nick were in there with us the whole time and were good support to have. The two of them and I even played a round of hangman on the room's white board during the in-between periods of Andrea's contractions when she would go to the bathroom. We didn't erase it and later during delivery the doctor was impressed that Andrea was so relaxed during labor to be playing games.

At one point Andrea and I walked down the hall a few steps to mix things up and she was hit by a strong contraction. While bent over on the wall's railing (a great addition for a laboring hall---these places think of everything) a nurse who we hadn't met came by and told Andrea something along the lines of "you don't have to suffer like this...we can give you something to ease the pain," which was a little bothersome as Andrea wanted to try to do the birth without medication, but this offer wasn't taken and we headed back to the room as walking wasn't all the fun it was advertised to be.

Back in the room contractions continued. They had a running paper feed of the monitoring similar to a seismograph with one half dedicated to the baby's heart rate and the other Andrea's contractions. It was actually kind of nice to have this monitor around so Belinda, Nick, and I knew (should Andrea's breathing, wincing not betray it) that a contraction was beginning or ending. Somewhere around 5:00am or so the contractions' representation on the sheet switched from the smoothly increasing and topped mountains that they had been to very jagged-topped contractions. In our pregnancy class, the stages of labor were described with pictures showing the rise and fall that were smooth and then jagged and I thought that this was just supposed to be a representation of how the contractions become very painful to the point of being overwhelming, but apparently they really change in a measurable way and that is what these plots were showing (I found a pamphlet and took a picture, below---the cartoon faces were actually pretty accurate).


When this change happened Andrea started to question if she could continue on without pain relief. However, the nurse who was monitoring from the nursing station came in about that time saying that she would like to do another cervical exam (second of the evening). The nurse found that Andrea was 9.5cm dilated, however she still was examining when the next contraction came and that one pushed Andrea to a full 10cm. The nurse started preparing the room for the actual birth and Belinda and Nick went to the hall to wait out the pushing.

The lead-up

At 4:30pm, Tuesday, March 4, I got the call at work. Not THE call, but the call that alerts me to the fact that Andrea, who has not felt so much like donning clothes and attending big social situations, felt like going to her school's annual Board appreciation dinner and that I would need to rush home to get ready for the event. Attend we did, and Andrea's appearance was an extremely well-received surprise to those there. We both were provided much information for general baby care and given a list of many tricks (some of which we had already employed) to speed the baby's arrival. The party was fun, though Andrea was feeling a little strange physically. We arrived back home at around 9:30: Andrea went to bed to read and I went to the living room to finish disc 2 of "Les Enfants du Paradis" due back to the library the next day. At 10:30 I heard my name called out from the back of the house and when I got back to the bedroom to find Andrea, still dripping, standing in a puddle of clear liquid telling me "I think my water broke." This water breaking, the gusher kind seen in the movies, left little doubt to even the untrained such as ourselves that a water breaking had indeed occurred. Andrea told me that she was in bed when "something felt a little strange" and she headed to the bathroom. Three steps away from the bed was where she was when I found her and where the source of the strange feeling had made itself known.

In the next 20 minutes calls were made to Angela for advice (expect contractions soon---same sudden water breaking had happened to her), Belinda as a warning of the impending trip to the hospital, and various other friends and family. At 11:10 I started a journal of the contractions (science degrees pay off for something) watching as the first 30 second one was followed by a 50 second one 13 minutes later, and after that there would be no more than a 9 minute gap between any two. For the next two hours I tried to help Andrea through each contraction and spent the in between time taking care of all of the last minute tasks (collecting food and cell phone chargers, cleaning cat boxes, putting the infant seat back in the car, take a last picture of a full-term Andrea (shown to left) etc.). Luckily Andrea had packed the hospital bag on the day previous, so there wasn't too much for me to do.

By 12:15 the contractions had started at a regular 5 minute spacing. It was actually quite amazing that they would show up really close to five minute spacing on the nose. Andrea was a real champ through this time and did a great job of relaxing in between. At 1:15 she passed the required mark of one hour of five-minute-spaced 60 second contractions and I called the doctor. We were told to come in, so I called the excited Belinda and Nick who hadn't yet slept and told them that the time had come to make our way to the hospital.