A few more photos of Bean are up at Flickr. The light’s been low (autumn coming) so they seem a bit grainy. Grandma has a much better camera and will share her photos later.

You don’t see any photos of me and the baby because, except for feeding attempts (which because of the supplemental nursing system require me to be topless), Husband and Grandma have been taking care of baby. I had an elevated temperature last night and am trying to rest.

I also took a self-portrait of myself nine days postpartum (dressed of course) and that’s up on Flickr as a public photo.

Home at last.

Exhausted beyond comprehension.

Problems with breastfeeding and some weight loss.

A few photos up at Flickr. Not great quality — a hospital isn’t the best setting. Don’t know when I’ll take more or upload more. Responded to contact friend requests.

Pain from incision. Hormonal.

She is our beautiful pixie and the most amazing, miraculous event of our lives. Yes, a person can be an event.

I am in awe of her.

And in love with her.

Thanks for all the well wishes.

Out.

While the hospital has wireless access, it blocks certain sites, and one of them is Flickr. So until we get home, we are unable to upload photos or approve contacts. I promise to upload asap and will post when they are up.

We likely won’t be going home until Wednesday the 12th. I was in labor for 22 hours, but dilation did not progress well and Bean’s head wasn’t fitting in the birth canal. I ended up with a C-section shortly after midnight on the 8th. This experience was the hardest physical and emotional test of my life up to this point. Someday maybe I’ll want to recount the details, but not anytime soon.

I’m beyond exhausted and in some pain. Husband is wiped out too.

Bean is gorgeous and sweet. She makes cooing sounds and little chirps. She loves to nurse and within an hour after birth was at my breast (while I was in the recovery room).

Thank you for all the well wishes and love. We are in awe of our daughter!

We were called and went to the hospital at 8 p.m. A cheery nurse did an exam and said I was one centimeter dilated, 60% effaced (up from 10% last week), and the baby was much lower. All good. In fact, she said I was in the ideal stage for the gel and induction.

She monitored me awhile and then administered the prostaglandin gel at 9:15. Then I was monitored for two hours to see how I reacted (and how baby is doing). Within 15 minutes of the dose I felt a steady, low-grade ache like menstrual cramps. The gel was doing its work (and still is).

At 11:15 we were sent home with instructions to call at 6:30 a.m. to see if there is room for us. As happened Wednesday night, if they are full, they’ll call us in as soon as there’s a room.

We were advised to get some sleep if possible. I aim to do that as soon as I hit “publish.”

Thank you for all the loving comments on the previous post. They really helped. After I wrote that I took a CD my parents sent — Music for Little People’s 20th Anniversary Lullaby Collection — and listened to it while lying down. Sweet dreams.

This post is updated; see below.

Yesterday we took a walk to let gravity help get things going. Little One responded with much activity, squirming and positioning herself further in the pelvis. She was active late last night, too, and in the wee hours. I also had backache/cramps in the wee hours.

Then it subsided. Today I’ve spent mostly laying about, napping. The roofers finally got to our roof around 1 p.m., and I’ve enjoyed a symphony of nail-gun pounding harmonized with blaring Hispanic radio. By resting, I may have lulled Little One as well.

At 12:30 p.m., I had not felt much movement at all from Little One in many hours. I drank water and lay down to do a kick count; I felt faint movements and dozed off. I awoke at 3:30 and drank cold grape juice, then ice water (12 ounces of each), and felt a faint poke. Usually an infusion of that much cold, sugary fluid stirs her into break dancing. I took a shower, which also jostles her into activity, then walked to our mailbox and back. Nothing.

Husband is on his way home. I’m going to call the doctor and see what she says. Probably all is fine and well. I’d rather be safe than sorry.

I hate to leave a post like this. The good thing is, El Camino Hospital has wireless Internet access throughout, so geeks like me can bring their laptops. I can update this post quickly. (And won’t I feel silly if we get there and she’s just dandy!)

Say it with me: All is well. All is well.

Update: Husband got home and I lost composure. He asked me if I’d done a proper kick count, and I said I thought I had, I’d lost track. We called the OB office and were told to head to labor and delivery at the hospital. Before going, though, Husband said, “Let’s do a proper kick count.” I had another glass of cold grape juice, and we lay down together on the bed. The result: 13 movements in 31 minutes (probably more, we gave half credit to some moves that weren’t especially strong), which is great. We called the hospital and told them the situation; they were pleased to hear it and grateful we let them know not to expect us.

Little One’s moving as I type this. We’ll do periodic counts throughout the evening and tomorrow. Tomorrow at 6 p.m., providing the hospital has available beds, I’ll go in for the prostaglandin insert. Then we go home and wait for the hormones to do their job of softening and effacing my cervix; at midnight (again, providing they have beds) we go in for the Pitocin induction. (If they don’t have beds, they’ll tell us to keep calling every couple of hours until they do.) If I end up going into labor on my own, we’ll simply go in when we’re in the active labor stage and be admitted. So I admit: I’m Crazy Pregnant Lady. I feel a bit silly for having gotten all astir, but I suppose I’m not the first. And we were right! All is well.

Well, I wish I had news to share.

But as of this moment, Little One continues to hang out. Early this morning I awoke to a dull low backache that lasted for a few moments, but otherwise all is quiet.

Believe me, when the action starts in earnest, I’ll definitely post the news. 🙂

At nearly 9:00 p.m. it’s still 81F. I spent the afternoon at my friends’ home just sitting. I couldn’t sleep for the heat, but at least the windows were open and it was quiet.

So, the doctor visit… I am one centimeter dilated but not effaced at all, and baby still sits high. My induction was scheduled.

Next Wednesday, September 5, I will go to the hospital at 6:00 p.m. to have prostaglandin inserted. This will begin to ripen the cervix (cause it to soften and start effacing). Just after midnight on September 6, we’ll return to the hospital to begin an IV delivery of Pitocin to start my labor. Let’s hope it works. The doctor said there’s a good chance and it’s worth trying. I’m trying to get square with the idea that I may end up having a C-section if the labor doesn’t progress.

Maybe Little One will come on her own before then.

I’m headed for a cool shower and if I’m lucky, some sleep.

Forecast for today: Sunny, high at 93F.

Last night at 10 p.m. we had a false alarm. I thought my water broke. Turns out it did not, but this required an exam at the hospital to be sure. (Something leaked, and I know for sure it was not urine, dammit.) The staff were lovely to us; I’m sure they get lots of first-timers with false alarms.

We got home around midnight and I went to bed exhausted. But I couldn’t sleep, so I read until 4:30 a.m. I dozed off lightly but woke at 5:30, 6:00, and 7:00 a.m. Then I slept until 8:30, when the roofers came. It sounded like the aliens on the roof from the movie Signs.

I’ve developed a hearty cough that emanates from my chest and leaves a metallic taste in my mouth. My head is full of cotton. I’ve sneezed through a box of Kleenex.

We have an OB appointment at 11:50; I don’t feel alert enough to drive. Husband stayed home from work to drive us there.

As I type, the roofers are ripping off our shingles. Husband will drop me off at a friend’s home after the appointment, where I will dally the afternoon away eating bonbons and reading sleeping (I hope). He’ll retrieve me this evening sometime around 7:00 and we’ll go home, open the windows, and turn on all the fans. Then we’ll finish watching Flushed Away, and maybe get a good night’s sleep.

It is 88F outside and the windows are closed.

Today the roofers began tearing off the roof of the building next door, and they have not only blocked me in my garage, they have made it impossible to walk out my front door because the ladders and supplies are on the porch we share with the neighbor. By this evening it will be all cleared out, but for now this is the way it is. They are also very loud with the banging and clanking and air compressor for the nail gun.

Tomorrow they will begin the demolition of our building roof. We’ll leave for a doctor appointment in the morning, and I’ll try to spend the day out of the house.

Not that I feel much like going anywhere. I feel worse every day with this head thing — I think I’ve caught a cold. I can’t hear well, taste much, or breathe easily. My head aches. I developed a cough. I sneeze. I have zero energy. I hope it is a cold because that means it will go away, whereas if it truly is an allergy to what’s in bloom right now, it will hang on until whenever the pollen abates, and that could be weeks.

I slept until 1 p.m., and I want to sleep some more.

I live in a haze of waiting right now. I’m lethargic. I force myself to eat and to move. My upper right back muscles have hurt for several weeks; coughing, sneezing, or certain movements send a shooting pain that grips the area. Wonder what that will feel like when contractions start? My left knee also complains; I’ve just stopped mentioning that or caring much.

It’s odd how difficult and bleak life can seem when one’s health isn’t perfect. I know life is good, but I don’t feel that way. I feel flat, gray, and inert. I am distracted from the curiosity of when labor might start and actually feel disinterested. Baby is in there. We coexist. She’ll come when she comes. Until then she’s part of my life like my lungs, heart, bladder. She is not a separate entity but instead is something that drains my body of energy and requires whatever resources I have that aren’t directed to fighting off the allergy/cold.

Tonight’s prescription will be to watch Flushed Away and stay horizontal. Tomorrow will be another day; maybe I’ll feel better and write a cheerier post.

Well, this is the due date for Little One. The majority of babies do not debut on their due date, but I thought it worth noting here.

I have allergies to something in bloom — chenopods, I believe — so my ears are clogged, my nose stuffy and runny, my throat is sore, and I sneeze. It’s gotten worse since last week. I occasionally pop a Benadryl (which actually does make the sore throat better); since I don’t really have much to do, spending my days feeling drowsy doesn’t much matter. But these symptoms on top of the final whale stage of pregnancy reinforce my desire to stay home.

Yesterday I felt enervated, occasionally queasy, slight cramps, and the usual “practice” contractions. I lost my mucous plug, too. (That’s probably more than you wanted to know.) This event sometimes precedes labor by a few days, but it’s also possible to lose the plug and go for a couple more weeks before starting labor. Husband and I lay about on the sofa and then took a very long nap in the afternoon.

Today’s to do list:
Laundry (small load)
Nap
Read
Pet the cat
Run dishwasher
Watch a stupid movie (Snakes On a Plane)
Rest
Rest
Rest

What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. These are but trifles, to be sure; but scattered along life’s pathway, the good they do is inconceivable.

–Joseph Addison

Where the river meets the ocean sits a lighthouse on a jetty. The area is jumbled with driftwood.

Yesterday I awoke at 11 a.m. and accomplished many household tasks. I finished a knitting project. Cooked a nice pasta dinner. Took a walk with Husband.

Around 9 p.m. until 1 a.m., Little One was rearranging the furniture inside. I have never experienced so much activity. You could see my belly rolling with bumps and nudges, jiggling like Santa’s. We laughed that she must be getting ready. At one point I think she turned herself sideways; I could feel something large and round and firm in my side, and I think it was her head. That’s not the direction we want her headed in, and now I don’t know if she’s in position anymore. But there’s time, and the doctor will check tomorrow.

Anyhow, as usual I was not sleepy until 3-4 a.m. I went to bed, but I could not get comfortable. I felt crowded in the bed and kept getting up to use the bathroom, because all of me was restless. Finally I gave up and took a hot shower at 5 a.m. Then I dressed and went to the grocery store. I’m never out at this time of day, and it felt like a secret adventure. Shopping was blissfully easy. I was the only customer in the whole store. Staff were in the aisles replenishing shelves, and I was greeted many times. Very pleasant! Perhaps I should shop at this time more often. I found everything I needed.

When I returned home I made scones from scratch. And then a wave of sleep washed over me around 7:30 a.m., so I headed to bed. Didn’t even change into jammies. I awoke when Husband readied for work at 9:30; he asked why I was in street clothes. I told him. He helped me peel them off and get into bed. I slept until 1 p.m. and now feel very off-kilter with the order of ordinary life. My body cycle is as turned around as my daughter is in my belly. I suppose we’re both preparing. I’ve given up on routine sleep at the moment, which is good practice for what’s coming.

Week 38! I look pretty much as I did two weeks ago. Tick-tock…

To my relief, Husband was excused from the jury summons because he served earlier this year, and we had a copy of the last summons to prove it. (I’m so glad we save that kind of stuff.)

Another thing I’m pleased about is that I tested negative for Group B Strep. It’s a bacteria women can carry but not be affected by (30% of all women have it, I read), but that can infect newborns in the birth process and cause pneumonia. Women who test positive receive intravenous antibiotics throughout labor to alleviate that risk. I may end up hooked to IVs or monitors, but at least this is one less, and that’s good!

Let’s see, other things we’ve done… we installed the car seat base today and practiced putting the infant carrier in and taking it out. I’ll take it to an inspection place so experts can confirm if we’ve installed it properly.

We decided on her middle name now! [rant] Just for the record, I’m not one of those people who thinks it’s possible to look at a newborn and say, “She doesn’t look like a [insert name]! She looks like a [different name]!” and then change to a backup name. I’ve never believed anyone looked like a name — at least, not when they are just freakin’ born. We’ve spent a lot of time thinking about her name and its meaning and what we hope for her, and that’s not going to change if she has red hair instead of brown or something. I’ve had more people say that to me than I care to think about, and I actually find it irksome. If you think that might be the case for your child, fine, but don’t utter it as a truism. [/rant]

Husband fixed the guest/baby bathroom shower. I’d kind of given up on that getting done, so I’m inordinately pleased. The shower had sliding glass doors instead of a curtain rod. It’s our only tub, and it felt claustrophobic to use. The door would make it hard to bathe a child; I want to be able to easily reach her. (I realize at the beginning she’ll be too small to bathe there, but soon enough she’ll grow; meanwhile, I’ll certainly want to take a hot soak.) So we removed it and put it in storage. Tomorrow I’ll buy a curtain rod and put up a shower curtain. Much more civilized, I think.

My mother sent some more clothing, some of it for cooler weather (coming soon!), so I need to sort and put that away.

Someone recommended putting three layers of fitted sheets on the crib with each layer separated by a waterproof pad. That way when baby leaks in the middle of the night, all one has to do is pull off the top wet sheet and the pad underneath, and there’s a clean, dry sheet waiting. It seems like a helpful idea, so I’ve got the items. I need help putting them on, because this belly of mine really keeps me at arm’s length from most things these days.

Our bag is packed. I keep telling her there’s more room out here, but I know she’ll get here when she’s ready. Until then I’m going to knit, listen to books on CD, take short walks, and love on the cat, who is in for a rude awakening.

I’ve written before that the roofs of our town homes will be replaced in August, and that when our building is being done (it takes eight days) we will need to have all our windows closed — and we have no air conditioning. Today we received notice that the roof demolition and replacement project for our building will begin on August 29.

My due date is August 27.

So the roofing project will take nine days (until September 7), because Labor Day falls within the project time frame and I’m sure no one will work that day. This sucks!!! If I go beyond my due date (and it’s probable), then I might go into labor during this project, and being inside a hot, stuffy building with banging overhead until I’m far enough along to check in at the hospital just sounds awful. When I first read the notice I cried.

However, I’m going to have to suck it up because I’ve no control over this. And for all I know I’ll go into labor sooner, or end up having a scheduled C-section or something. I just wanted to post my protest for posterity.

And on the bright side, this means when my brother visits the 17th-21st, he won’t swelter as he sleeps in the loft.

This wasn’t just plain terrible, this was fancy terrible. This was terrible with raisins in it.

–Dorothy Parker

Artwords is another creative project that posts a theme on Sunday and invites people to use sketches, photos, paintings, collage, digital art, altered art, etc. to depict a story.

As a change of pace from the drawings, I selected a photo I took back in Austin. The resulting movement in the image depicted how time seems to move for me: shifting, often blurry, streaking past me.

This is me in a few weeks:

Wow! It so happens that my submission for “Discovery” was chosen as the Pick of the Week over at Illustration Friday. How neat! There’s an image on the front page — it changes weekly.

This week’s theme is “Poem.” I’ll ponder that one.