Pretentious

According to Webster.com, Pretentious is an adjective that means, “expressive of affected, unwarranted, or exaggerated importance, worth….”

There are things that, as a new mom who has to make special arrangements to simply take a shower, are pretentious for me right now.

Here’s my pretentious list, which is in no particular order:

Jewelry.
I had to take my wedding and engagement rings off about 8 months into my pregnancy because I couldn’t get them off one day. Zel said to take them off and leave them off; after all, we didn’t want them to be cut off and then have to pay for them to be repaired. I also don’t wear my necklace, watch, or bracelet any more. I probably will some day, but today it’s not important. Besides, I’m a bit nervous that I’ll scratch Baby Kaos.

Shaving.
This includes my legs and my pussy. I finally did break down and shave before Baby Kaos was born. In spite of the fact that it was a lot of work at the end of my pregnancy, I had to shave it up, yo. I just needed to feel human. I’m going to have to shave at some point, though. I’m starting to not be able to stand it. I’m starting to feel like a bit of a Goonie Goo-Goo.

Waxing my eyebrows.
In college, Mel trained me to pay close attention to my eyebrows. She’s meticulous about her eyebrows. Before I went to DC in February, I made sure my shit was cleaned up and presentable to the Eyebrow Queen. But right now, I just don’t really give a shit. I’ll eventually breakdown and wax them, but I think I’ve a couple more weeks on this one.

Lotion.
Not only do I not have time to moisturize, I don’t give much of a shit. But, I have to put my face lotion on my face. I also have to put lotion on my hands because I wash them frequently (lots of diaper changes = lots of hand washing). I also have to put lotion on my feet, otherwise, someone will get shot.

Curling my hair.
Do I really need to expand on this one?

Comment of the Day, September 26, 2006

We went to get Zel’s hair cut today. The woman who does our hair is simply lovely. Although I didn’t get my hair cut, I decided to tag along, since she called me last week to see if we’d had Baby Kaos yet.

A woman at the hair salon said to Zel and I: “Is it a boy or a girl?”

I’d think the fact that Baby Kaos was dressed in a light blue onesie and dark blue pants would’ve been a clue. Apparently, I was incorrect.

so glad I don't have to do that

I'm sitting at my computer, and a robin out my window caught my eye. She's picking up worms, and will take them back to her baby robins to feed them.

I'm so glad I don't have to do that to feed Baby Kaos. Forage for worms, partially digest them, and then spit them back up into my baby's mouth.

I know it's part of her species. That's how they survive, and that's fine.

But, really, boobs are a great thing.

He’s Finally Here!

Baby Kaos has finally decided to make his entry into the world! Zel and I decided he takes after his mother and his Auntie Melanie, since he was late to his own party. Baby Kaos was born 14 days late, on September 10th at 2:11 p.m. His birth weight was 8 lbs even, and he measured up at 21.5 inches long.

The entire labor lasted about 13 hours. I did everything naturally, and only said, “This fucking hurts, you guys,” one time. I didn’t request drugs and I only said I couldn’t do it once, about 90 minutes into the two hours of pushing I did. I was pretty quiet throughout the entire labor and delivery. Our doula described me as being stoic, which is a nice compliment in this situation.

I have to give credit to the birth team: Our doula; two nurses, one of which is the mother of our doula (and it was very cool!), our doctor, and of course, Zel, who didn’t leave my side during the entire ordeal.

I ended up having to be on oxygen for the last half of pushing, because Baby Kaos’ heart rate was dropping a bit. I also had an episiotomy, because let’s face it, fitting an 8 pound baby through my 5’2” frame was a bit tight. Besides, I’ve been telling Zel I have the tightest pussy around for years, and now I have scientific proof.

The doc ended up vacuuming Baby Kaos at the very end. The doc said I did 99% of the work and just needed a bit of help to get Baby K out.

I also lost about 20 ounces of blood due to hemorrhaging. It makes me thankful and incredibly upset for all the women who have experienced massive blood loss during labor and delivery. It also makes me thankful that I have a great doctor who was able to get the bleeding to stop. I recognize that if I would’ve been picking apples and delivered this kid in the middle of an orchard, I would’ve died. The doc is 2- 0 when it comes to saving lives in our family. If he moves, we're moving to where he moves.

Baby Kaos and I are both healthy. He's great at eating, pooping, and sleeping.

I’m a bit sore, but that’s to be expected. He’s worth every stitch.

No Guarantees

There are no guarantees in life. We all know this. But for me it really hit home this past week.

On Wednesday, Zel, Baby Kaos and I went to The Good Doctor for our weekly prenatal visit. We talked a lot about inducing, and all agreed that I’d check into the hospital that night, and we’d start inducing.

There were several reasons for our decision:

1. There was room at the inn. In our little town, there is one hospital, which has four labor/delivery rooms and four recovery rooms. On Wednesday afternoon, there were two moms and babies recovery rooms, and no moms in labor/delivery rooms. May as well take advantage of that situation.

2. As much as we can, we’d like to avoid Baby Kaos having 9/11 as a birth date. We don’t want him to hear everything from, “You must be the most patriotic kid in the world!” to “What a horrible day to be born!” and everything in between.

3. I’m really tired of being pregnant, and I’d like to be done. Besides, I’m a spoiled brat and I’d like to have my body back to myself. I don’t feel like I’m going to be pregnant forever, I’d just like to be done.

4. I’d been dilated to 1 cm for 2 weeks. I have to get to 10. Let’s get the show on the road, already!

Once in the hospital on Wednesday night, The Good Doctor examined me and basically said, “Well, you’re still at 1 cm, so I’m going to insert this small tea bag full of medication into your vagina. It needs to stay in for 12 hours.” It was a prostaglandin, which is a suppository that causes labor. I had to remain lying down for the first two hours, hooked up to a monitor: one belt measured Baby Kaos’ heart rate; the other belt measured my contractions.

In the morning, about 12 hours later, The Good Doctor removed the tea bag and I was still at 1 cm. What the fuck? The good news was that my cervix was thinner (a thin cervix is required for delivery).

So, they started me on an IV drip of Pitocin, which is a synthetic form of oxytocin. Oxytocin is a hormone that starts contractions. It is also responsible for releasing orgasm in both men and women, and helps with emotional bonding.

I’ve heard horror stories of Pitocin, and it wasn’t something I wanted to experience. But, it wasn’t as bad as I’d heard. They started me at a pretty low dose, and gradually raised the level throughout the day. I was having contractions, but they weren’t major. By Thursday afternoon, I was at the maximum level, and I was sleeping through my contractions. Not a good sign, so they stopped the Pitocin.

The Good Doctor came in and said I was at 2 cm. Woohoo! Progress! And, then I felt some pretty intense pain. Without warning, he stripped my membranes. I’m glad he didn’t warn me; it would’ve sucked more than it did. He basically stuck his fingers inside my cervix and ran his fingers around until the amniotic sac separated from the cervix.

Then came the blood. Lots of blood. A frightening amount, really. But, The Good Doctor, as well as whoever the Wonderful Nurse was at the time, said that it was normal and to not worry. The blood was caused by ruptured blood vessels.

Thursday evening, they started the Pitocin again. The contractions were more intense, but I was still able to doze through them. Of course, it helped that they gave me a sleeping pill. Based on my contraction monitor, they stopped the Pitocin in the middle of the night because I wasn’t contracting frequently and intensely enough.

Friday morning, because I wasn’t going into labor, and the bleeding had largely subsided, I was sent home. No baby. My consolation prize included lots of super-mega pads and a couple pairs of disposable underwear.

Zel and I were under the impression that if a woman goes into be induced, that she goes home with a baby. Apparently that’s not always the case. Being induced into labor isn’t a guarantee that you’ll get a baby. But, they don’t mention that in childbirth education classes. And I’ve never heard of such a thing.

I’m disappointed because I spent 42 stressful hours in the hospital and have no baby to show for it.

I’m frustrated because in the 42 hours I was in the hospital, there were 6 babies born.

I’m worried because I’m at 42 weeks today, and the longer Baby Kaos is in his current home, the more likely it is that placenta will stop nourishing him.

The plan is that if nothing happens between now and Tuesday, we’ll try inducing again.

But, I’m home, and my contractions have increased, which is good.

Hopefully this kid will come into the world naturally and not on 9/11. But there are no guarantees in life.

My Great Aunt Tildie*

My Great Aunt Tildie, who is my Mother’s Dad’s Sister, called on Sunday, August 27, the day Baby Kaos was due.

The last time I spoke with my Great Aunt Tildie, I was 16, and my Parents, My Little Brother, and I took a trip to New York. At the time, she lived on Long Island. Several years ago, she moved to Massachusetts, to be closer to her grandchildren. She’s in her 80’s, and she’s pretty sharp.

Everyone should have a Jewish Aunt named Aunt Tildie who lived on Long Island. She always sends me a birthday card; she sent cards when I graduated high school and college. She sent Zel and me a nice set of metal bowls for our wedding, saying she’s had similar metal bowls for 50 years and doesn’t cook a meal without them. She sent a card as soon as she heard the news about Baby Kaos.

When she called last week, she said, “Is this my favorite Grand Niece who lives in the Pacific Northwest?” I don't know if she has any other Grand Nieces who live in the Pacific Northwest, so I selfishly answered yes.

She wanted to know if “her baby” had come yet. She said she was so excited that she couldn’t stand it and wanted to know as soon as her little Great-Great Nephew was born.

We spoke for 1 minute and 28 seconds, according to my phone.

My Great Aunt Tildie called again this morning. “Just checking in on my baby,” she said.

I told her he still wasn’t here and we were being as patient as we could be, although it was getting harder to wait. We spoke for 1 minute and 8 seconds.

“I’m sure I’ll hear from you as soon as he arrives,” she said.

“Aunt Tildie, you're at the top of the call list” I said.

“You’ll call? No, you’ll be busy. I’ll probably hear from your mother,” she said.

It’s pretty funny, really: I don’t talk with the woman for 17 years and she calls two consecutive Sundays, and we speak for a total of 2 minutes and 36 seconds.

And, yes, she's at the top of the call list.

*Tildie is a nickname our family calls her. I’m not sure what her real name is.