4th of July

This year was our first 4th of July in Oklahoma. We mostly just took it pretty easy and hung around the house, watched a movie, and caught our breath; life has been hectic lately. I didn't want to keep TJ up late enough to see the real firework show (it started at 10, and TJ's usual bed-time is 7:30), so we invited some friends over for for a swim at the neighborhood pool and little fireworks in the front yard. The pool ended up closing early due to "weather" (ha ha, only it wasn't so funny), so we just let the kids run in the backyard with the kiddie pool and the hose as the adults bemoaned the heat.

Fireworks were fun. TJ was timid and wanted to stay close to dad, but overall liked the fireworks. Particularly the red ones. Last year fireworks just made him cry at first, and I'm not sure if he ever really warmed up to them, so he's definitely come a ways from last years' reaction: although he still didn't want to hold a sparkler (this actually does surprise me, he's such a spunky kid).

2 Months Old

Andy turned 2 months old this weekend. He has made alot of progress during the past month, and we are all getting more sleep. In fact, his night-sleep has made leaps and bounds, and he is sleeping through the night 75% of the time; when he does wake up, he generally eats and goes back to sleep. Bliss. Life is looking so much better than it did four weeks ago. He's also gotten really smiley this month. I STILL haven't gotten a really good picture of a smile, despite numerous attempts; although some of these are definitely happy faces, and you can see the echo of a smile contained therein.

He's gotten more aware of the world, and is looking around and interested. He can push his torso up to an up-dog (or push-up) position easily, and is ridiculously strong. He has rolled from his tummy to his back many times now, although I believe it's always been an accident and has scared him (this usually happens in the middle of the night, and is contributing to the 25% of NOT sleeping through the night). But the biggest acheivement of all is that he went from being a really difficult baby, to a really nice baby. He overcame his illnesses and ailments, started on reflux medication, and it has really helped him. Now that he's feeling better, he has really calmed down and is settling into his own skin and adjusting to the world and being alive.

The rudiments of a schedule are starting to take place: he is starting to wake up roughly the same time every morning (between 6:30-7:40), and he is ready for bed about the same time every night (8pm or so). I'm also seeing daytime sleep just beginning to organize. It's really bothered me not having a schedule; in fact, I think the hardest thing about a new baby for me is the lack of structure and a schedule. It makes me realize just how structured I have become.

One night just before I went into labor, I sat down and wrote out TJ's schedule, such that a stranger could have taken care of him easily-- the point is that TJ had a set schedule; he gets up the same time, eats the same time, naps the same time, has similar activites at a set time every day. And that's the way I like it. Infants have no such set routine until the parent helps them form one. I'm in that process with Andy, and life is definitely getting better. He is a really pleasant little chap.

Kitties

TJ loves cats. Curious George used to be the only television show he was interested in, but about a month ago Rob recorded a documentary about kittens off of Animal Planet; now he asks for the kitties more than he asks for the monkey. I can't remember exactly when the cat-love began, but it was prior to Christmas, since one of the things I looked the hardest for for a Santa gift was a big stuffed cat. Anyways. Sufficient to say that the cat-love has gone on for a while, and he's had time to accumulate a menagerie of cats.


You may notice he has two of the little white calico cat; the first rather mangy, the second a recent and miraculous acquisition--it's his favorite that he hauls everywhere with him, and I've learned the hard way how important it is to him: in late February the cat fell out of the car (unbeknown to us) during a long, busy Saturday of errands. We did not notice his absence until bedtime. Now if you know TJ, you know how important it is to him to have all of his precious treasures present for bedtime. The sorrow and devastation was sudden and absolute. In the face of such tragedy, there was really nothing to do but jump in the car and start searching (after an Internet search confirmed that the cat had been discontinued, and was sold out everywhere). I drove from Edmond, to the Mercy campus, to downtown Oklahoma. It took at least an hour. It was a blustery, cold day, and I'll never forget the relief I felt when my headlights lit upon a small black and white lump in the parking lot of the Indian restaurant we'd had dinner at. He'd been run over, and was definitely worse for the wear, but I'd found him. The first thing TJ said the next morning, was, tearfully, "the white kitty-cat?". I felt like a super-hero when I presented it. Just before Andy was born, I came across the second white cat at the bottom of the clearance rack in PBK. Remembering that night(and since he won't sleep without it), I bought the last two they had in stock.
TJ plays with his cats all the time.





He carries the white one around everywhere. He sleeps with all of them. He watches TV with them (George, or one of the many cat documentary and nature shows now filling our DVR). He even eats with them at the table. He likes to line them up in rows


And study them intently until he has them arranged just right















The past couple of days he's been carrying his cat around in this little red bucket


I just love this kid.



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Andrew's Blessing Weekend

We blessed Andrew this weekend (June 18-19). It ended up being a little earlier than we had originally planned, because Grandpa Tom and Grandma Sandy are moving (boo!). We have early church, so did not take pictures beforehand; I knew this would prove to be a mistake, and it was, as Andy peed all over his cute little linen blessing suit before we could do pictures. So I need to wash it, and take pictures of him in it later. He was mighty handsome.


We had a nice dinner, complete with watermelon,


and chocolate cake with almond roux frosting



Grandma and Grandpa alternately snuggled and romped with the boys


















We are SOO going to miss having them so near! It was a bittersweet weekend.

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Level 1: Complete

Dear Baby Andrew,
You are one month old today. Last night you slept nearly 6 hours at once(!!!!). It was awesome, and far and away the longest you've slept yet. I hope you do it again tonight.
You are a very sweet and alert baby, and I cannot believe how strong you are. You have been holding your head up almost since the day you were born. When I lay you on your tummy, you can inch along, and have moved up to 15 inches all on your own. Mostly, you just turn 360's; you get mad, and kick your feet, and one foot must kick harder than the other, because you will just turn circle after circle that way. I think this means you will be an early crawler.

Bath times are NOT your favorite, but you are beginning to like them a little better. Last night, you actually stopped crying when I put you in the water.

I've started sleeping you on your tummy, and you obviously prefer it, because you are doing to much better. You are so strong, you can lift your head and turn it side to side.



Big brother TJ is getting more and more interested in you. He likes to hold you, and there have been several times when you have stopped crying when TJ held you. I hope you two will be great friends as you grow up together.
You have not smiled yet, but I can see it coming. It will be soon.
Thank you for coming to join the family.
Love, Mom






I had to throw out a few pictures of TJ as a baby. I cannot believe how different these two boys look. Andrew is so fair, he looks nearly bald (he's not), although he does not have near the hair TJ did.


Baby Andrew is 1 month old today. And I have to say, it's been a long, grueling month, and I'm not real sad to see it end. I am so grateful to have had such an awesome delivery, because there simply was no time in the month for me to recover; I am so grateful to have had the strength to deal with all that May dished out for us.
Andy was born on May 2nd, a Monday. We left the hospital on Tuesday. Thursday night, he cried ALL NIGHT LONG. I nursed him for hours and hours, and finally, at 5am, I handed him off to Rob, along with a bottle of formula. He guzzled the bottle and fell into exhausted slumber... and my heart broke. I went through such horrible breastfeeding problems with TJ, I just didn't know if I had it in me to do it again. Friday was spent rushing to appointments trying to diagnose the problem: Andrew was tongue-tied; he had been unable to latch properly, and hence had not properly stimulated milk production. Bottom-line: all the hours of nursing I had been doing were inadequate, and the kid was starving. Literally. He had lost more than a pound (and when you're only 8lbs to being with, that's a big deal). The hospital was unable to get me in to clip the tie until Tuesday; fortunately, I happen to know a guy who got me in for a private appointment within the hour (I KNEW marrying a doctor would eventually hit pay-dirt). However, fixing the problem wasn't enough, since my milk supply was now lagging far behind what was needed. So began the awful cycle of feeding, supplementing, pumping, stimulating. It was a nightmarish week. He cried, I cried, TJ cried for lack of attention, I cried more from feelings of guilt and inadequacy... The tears poured and poured. By the end of a week, I had made huge progress, and was nearly there...
That's when Rob got sick.
Then TJ got sick a few days later.
By Sunday, the 15th, Andrew had it, and was so snotty and congested he could barely eat anyways.
And I went down on the 18th.
You know those long, miserable, awful cold viruses, the ones you only get maybe one of per year? The ones that you just have to almost totally hibernate for days to get over? Yeah, it was one of those. And since no one was doing any sleeping, no one could get over it. We STILL sound like a family of hacking, coughing, sniveling chain-smokers. Sans the stinky smoke-smell, of course. I spent at least two weeks sitting next to a humidifier holding one child or the other. Usually in the middle of the night. My most valued possession became this nasty little snot-sucker. Buy one. Shove it in your bathroom cabinet, and forget it; but I promise you, at 2AM someday, you'll be so grateful it's there. It seems gross. I know. But it works. And, it's endorsed by several pediatric ear nose and throat physicians, including Dr. Glade. He has lots of personal experience with it. Too much, after last month. Anyways. By the 26th, Andrew was still miserable and not sleeping, which means that I was near-crazy from all the not-sleeping. I finally took him to the pediatrician, which I never bother to do (I practically live with one, why would I expose my precious ones to those germ-infested offices?). The pediatrician made me laugh. He looked in Andy's ears. Then he looked again. Then he hummed and hawed. And looked again. "Well?" I prompted him. "Well..." he said, "in anyone else's kid I would say that it's a double ear-infection. I'm a little more hesitant to call it in the ear specialist's kid." Would you believe that I had neglected to have Rob look in the poor baby's ears? Sure enough, he confirmed the two ear infections.
Later that day, a friend asked me if Andy was a good baby. I nearly burst into tears (okay, I did indeed burst into tears, but I made it out of the room first). Was he a good baby? I had NO IDEA. The first week of his life he was starving to death, so that's why he screamed all that week. Then he was sick, and screamed for 10 days because he was miserable. Then his ears hurt, so that's why he was screaming. So is he a good baby? I think the answer is "yes", but really I'm only going off of like 3-4 days of experience here. Since Tuesday of THIS WEEK, I think he finally feels O.K., for the first time in his short life. And I feel like I have a whole new baby, one that can eat, sleep, and breathe. How novel.
So I've made the past month sound awful, and it kinda was, but it definitely had it's good, as well. Mostly, it was just HARD. Really, really hard. But new babies are always hard. I'm glad that it's over, and I have a huge sense of accomplishment because we made it through, and I've learned so much about Andrew and how he works and what he needs. And I also feel like I know how bad the worst days can be, when both kids and both parents are sick, and both kids need alot NOW, and it's good to know that we can make it through those on our own. I'm grateful for all the help we had from two awesome grandmas and one swell grandpa. And I'm really excited to see what next month brings us. It will be better.

Birth Story (long version)

I think I'll always have a hard time answering the question, "when did you go into labor?", or "how long were you in labor with Andrew?". It mostly started on Tuesday, April 26th. I had a doctor's appointment Tuesday morning, and as I was driving downtown to it, I had the strongest feeling that I needed to get everything finished in the next couple of days, because I would have the baby by the end of the week. I'd been having increasingly strong contractions, and had had a few other signs that labor was nearing. At my appointment, she recommended that I have my membranes stripped. I said was fine with that, so she went ahead with it. The rest of the day was quite miserable because the procedure definitely intensified and increased the contractions I was already having. Wednessday I stayed home and cleaned like a maniac, and I still had that feeling it would be soon. And the contractions kept on coming. Thursday and Friday Rob had to be out of town for work. I was really, really nervous about it, even though he was within driving distance. As much as I wanted to have the baby, I was relieved when the contractions slowed a little on Thursday. Thursday morning TJ also woke up sick, and threw up all day. It was a rough day for everyone. By Friday the contractions, although infrequent, were strong enough that I couldn't do much else while I was having one. I didn't dare drive anywhere that day, and was super relieved when Rob made it home that night. I went to a photography class that night, and the teacher took the one real picture of me pregnant with Andrew.
Saturday I sprang up out of bed with loads of energy. We packed up the car and headed downtown to the Arts Festival, went out to lunch, and generally had a nice day. That afternoon we went to the park to practice what I'd learned at my photography class while TJ played, and then we picked up take-out. I'd tried to stay busy enough all day to ignore whatever was going on with my body, but as we walked in the door, I suddenly wasn't so sure I'd be able to eat. All that night the contractions continued, although they never established a regular pattern, but they did continue slowly building in intensity. Because of the contractions (on top of the pregnancy, and the heartburn, and the bladder, etc etc), I had not been able to sleep more than a few hours a time since about Tuesday. Saturday night I was so exhausted, I just fell into bed, and did okay. Sunday morning the contractions were every 8 minutes apart, and were as strong as anything I'd experienced with my first labor. I'd had alot of bloody show over the past couple of days, so we called Rob's mom and told her to begin the two-hour drive to OKC. We were in a flurry of preparations, packing the car, and readying the house. But by the time Rob's mom arrived, the contractions had STOPPED for the first time in days. I was furious, I was so miserable, and tired of waiting for something to happen. It was a rainy, cold day, so I couldn't even go for a walk. I called the doctor, looking for some sort of reassurance or something (I couldn't help but be worried about the bizarre path the contractions were taking); the doctor on call told me that until the contractions established a regular pattern, and got closer together, nothing was going to happen, and that women could spend WEEKS in the stage I was at. I was devastated, certain I would be pregnant forever, having these erratic contractions that I could neither talk nor drive through. I had Rob drive me to Walmart so I could walk and wallow in my misery (it seemed an appropriate place), since it was too wet to be outside. I walked for a long time, came home, and the day drug on. The contractions resumed just before dinner, but again were irregular and erratic, but still gaining in intensity. I was going nuts, Googling every sign and symptom, and kept coming up with the same result: labor could be hours, days or a week away. I hauled Rob along on another long walk, this time outside. We walked three miles through the neighborhood, and although the contractions never subsided, I felt like they were diminishing in intensity. We all went to bed, and I was so tired, I slept.
I woke up suddenly and completely at 2AM to intense contractions. I turned on my phone to try to time them, but holding myself in a relaxed state was about all I could do, and I was not very successful at it. I knew they were getting pretty close together from the amount of work I was having to do to keep really relaxed and ride through them. I woke Rob up at 3AM and asked him to time for me. He only timed two or three, before jumping out of bed and starting to throw the few remaining things in the car (it was still packed from the Sunday morning false alarm). I was trying to get myself ready, get dressed, get some makeup on, etc, but I was having a really hard time doing anything except holding it together. I remember trying to put my mascara on, and that's when I started shaking. In retrospect, it's easy for me to recognize that I was entering transition, but at the time all I knew was that I could not stop shaking, and it was so hard to get up off the floor. Child's Pose (yoga) felt so good to me, it was all I wanted to do. I could hear Rob telling me that the contractions were 3 minutes apart and I HAD to get to the car, but it was just so hard to get up, and I couldn't bring myself to feel that anything was urgent other than riding the next contraction out. I think he had to half-drag me to the car.
That car ride stands out as the worst part of the entire labor. My back hurt so bad, I couldn't sit, so I hung myself over the top of the seat and rode backwards with my chest against the head rest and my weight on my knees. The dark streets and the lights and the cars on the freeway blurred into my consciousness, and it was so hard to relax, I just held on and tried to breathe. Somehow I was able to get out of the car and walk those endless hospital hallways to L&D. Rob checked me into Triage, and the nurse checked me. I was dialated nearly to a 9, and things started to move pretty fast after that. I was thrown on a gurney (still on hands and knees) pushed into a birthing suite, and there was a flurry of activity all around that I mostly ignored. They briefly made me roll onto my back (AGONY!!!) but I flipped back to my hands and knees the moment I could. I was really deeply involved in the work of labor, but also really disassociated from it. I was aware of the pain, but somehow it wasn't hurting ME, it was hurting another me. My first push broke my water, and it felt so funny hitting my calves and feet. I remember thinking "so much for those socks" and that I was so happy I wasn't wearing my favorite socks, because I was kneeling directly over my heels in a modified wide-kneed child's pose. I heard the doctor come in, and I remember really wanting to see her face before she delivered me (there wasn't time for my own doctor to arrive, so I had never met this lady before). She leaned over the side of the bed and introduced herself, and I went to work. I remember feeling really in control, and knowing it wouldn't last much longer; I was also aware of the way I was screaming my head off with every push. What can I say? It really seemed to help. I could feel the baby moving through my pelvis, and I could feel when I needed to stop and stretch for a moment. I kept thinking about "the ring of fire" I had read about when the baby's head crowns; I didn't think it felt like a ring of fire at all, just really really tight. I remember the feeling of easing the baby through, the feel of the head, the shoulders, the body, the last leg... Done! Deep breath! I could hear the baby crying, I started pulling the darn monitors off my belly, the blood pressure cuff, so I could roll over onto my back for the first time and finally see what was going on in the room around me, see my baby, see Rob beside me, see the nurses... Delivering the placenta was really easy, and happened about 5 minutes (maybe... my grasp of time wasn't so great at the moment) later. The doctor told me I didn't tear at all, and that made me so very very happy.
And they handed my baby over to me. I have to say, he looked worse for the wear after his long, long labor and ride through the birth canal. Poor kid. He latched right on, nursed briefly, and went to sleep shortly after. I threw my socks away, took a shower, and asked for a Motrin.
Compared to TJ's delivery and recovery, this has been the most amazing recovery ever. I went for a walk the day I delivered. Saturday (12 days after delivery) I ran 1/2 mile. I can't get over how great I feel. Sleep-deprived and exhausted? Yes. But I feel GOOD, and like I have the physical strength to tackle this whole motherhood thing ...
And that is the story of how Andrew was born.