Shameless Picture Posting

This is a very fine example of the Milk Coma. When she's eaten good, you can't wake her, no matter how uncomfortable she looks. At this point, she'd been passed around and jostled and sang to and loved on for a good 45 minutes. And still - just like a bean bag doll.

ps - that's her great-grandpa Coffman. He thinks she's a "pretty good looking girl, there".


We have this outfit in 4 consecutive sizes. Guess someone thinks she really IS the cutest ever!

This was a few minutes ago.

Isn't she beautiful?

My girl may just be a girly-girl. She doesn't like sleepers with legs, she much prefers gowns. And if you have the nerve to put her in a sleeper with legs, she will squirm around until she can get both of her legs into one sleeper leg. That right leg is just a spare, I guess.


See? She's not ALWAYS asleep. Here, she's making eyes at her Grammy Kathy - who may just be making eyes back...

And curled up on her Daddy. Sigh.

The Land of the Living, and weight loss....

In the last few days, Callie and I have ventured out into the Rest of the World. I have learned that I can, in fact, handle taking her in and out of her carseat on my own. I can also shoulder the awesome responsibility of having the most precious cargo in my car, on the road, surrounded by hundreds of potential maniacs in 2,000 pound deathtraps. I have also learned that, when going to the yukky, germ-infested local Wal-Mart, a sling is a wonderful thing. It keeps my baby close and comfy while safeguarding her from the General Public's yukky germ-infested breath.

In other news, I have ankles and the tops of my feet have returned to their normal state. As an added bonus, I'm down from 180+ to a shocking 152 lbs. I also just completed 24 hours of no pain meds - not even Motrin - for that annoying delivery-related tailbone injury. Yay, me!

Miscarriages suck.

Yup. I know, "hand of God" and "It's probably for the best" and (my personal favorite) "There was probably something really wrong with the baby", etc etc etc. They still suck.

Some family members of ours found out a month or so ago that they were expecting their 2nd child. A baby that is very much wanted and planned for. They were so happy. About a week ago, her morning sickness disappeared. On Wednesday, the Doctors confirmed that there was no heartbeat and her HCG lavels had flatlined, then started going down. Her d&c is scheduled for today. All I can do is pray and pray and pray for their broken hearts and that they will have strength.

My best friend since we were 12 (that's 19 years, if anyone's counting) has wanted a baby for as long as I can remember. She, like me, has had two previous miscarriages. When we realized that my third pregnancy looked like it was going to stick, her baby fever kicked into high gear. In July, she got a positive HPT. We were so excited that we would be able to raise our babies together! Last week, she suspected that something was wrong. She refused to make an appointment until after Callie was born because she didn't want for anything to ruin Callie's arrival. At her appointment on Monday, Dr K confirmed that there was no baby. She didn't want anyone to go to the appointment with her, so I bundled Callie up and we sat in my car in the next parking lot, because somehow, I felt like if I could SEE her (or at least her car), I could support her better and maybe she wouldn't feel quite so alone. She started the Cyotec on Wednesday. I want so much to hold her and whisper words of comfort, but I can't. I'm the very reminder of what she wants and doesn't have. All I can do is pray for her. Feverishly.

I have had two miscarriages, one at 13 weeks in February 2002 and the other at 12 1/2 weeks last September. They both sucked. I found out that my uterus is mis-shapen and that my hormones are wacky, and I MAY have a blood clotting disorder. I held my breath until 14 weeks with Callie. I didn't make any drastic changes, buy anything, or tell anyone beyond close family and friends that we were pregnant until about 16 weeks. One of my Bible Study Ladies "claimed this baby in the name of God" and had unwavering faith that this baby would be born in Spetember, and I wish that my Faith had been as strong as hers from the beginning. Still, I mourn the babies that I lost. As I look at Callie, I know that if I had been able to continue carrying my April 2008 baby, I wouldn't have her, and I am torn. I would have a six month old son instead of a week old daughter. How different would my life be? How dare I question God's Plan?

I wish that more people recognized that miscarriages are not that uncommon. I've been told that as many (probably more) as 20% of confirmed pregnancies end in miscarriage. That's only confirmed pregnancies. That doesn't take into account the ones that are chalked up to a late period or where the mother isn't paying attention to her cycles.

And, still, there's nothing that stops a conversation faster than the subject of miscarriage. People (myself included) don't know what to say. I can't speak for every hopeful mother, but I can tell you on my own behalf that the very best thing that anyone said to me at that time was "That sucks. I'm really sorry. We are praying for you, your husband, and your baby. Please, can I (fill in the blank:) bring you some lasagna, I've made extra; come clean your house; take the kids for the afternoon; etc." Be specific, if you just say "let me know what I can do", I'm not going to take you up on it. At some point, I'll probably want to talk about my miscarriage, especially with other women that have had them, but for right now, I don't want to hear how your mother's best friend had a miscarriage and then was pregnant three months later. I don't want to hear that it's God's Will - I'm already mad at Him.

My heart hurts for my cousin and my friend. My heart hurts for anyone that has wanted a child and instead, suffered losses and dashed hope. My heart hurts that there are unwanted babies all over the world at the same time as there are women that would give their right arm for the chance to raise a baby. My heart hurts that I am looking at my beautiful, perfect baby, while others are mourning the loss of their own.

Lord, have mercy.

Things that surprise me about Mamahood

1. I really DO think that my baby is the most beautiful baby on the planet. I even demanded that my friend tell me if/that my baby was ugly so that I don't turn into one of those moms who thinks that her baby is beautiful even though it looks more like a troll.... She told me that my baby is beautiful.
2. Breastfeeding is easy. Callie latched great. She seems to be satisfied with the quantity/quality of my milk. She's gaining weight. My nips don't hurt. I never got any "uncomfortable engorgement". I don't find it inconvienient to be tied down, feeding "all the time". I'm not nearly as modest as I thought I'd be.
3. Pitocin induced labor wasn't bad at all. My contractions, even after my water broke, weren't even as bad as period cramps. Apparently, I either have really really bad period cramps or really really easy labor contractions. Wes said that I got up to the top of the little moniter graph, so.... To be completely honest, I got the Epidural anyway, out of fear that they would get worse, but, according to the moniter, they actually got a little less intense.
4. Usually, I'm all for all the advice that I can get. In this case, I'm really not interested. I mean, I'm interested in what you did for your kids, and I might even borrow some ideas for myself. BUT, the second that a well-intentioned mama starts assuming that her way is better than mine or that I really should (whatever), I've already shut down. I'm quite confident in my ability to do what's best for my child and my family, thankyouverymuch.
5. Interestingly a little bit tied to #4: Sometimes the person that you think is going to be the intrusive, pushy, advice-giver turns out to be the unconditional support-giver. And vice versa.
6. I can get by on much less sleep than I thought.
7. It's not boring AT ALL to stare into the eyes of a stranger that you love so much for hours on end.

September 10, 2008

...is the day that my Beloved and I chose to be the birthday of our daughter.

Callie Marie was born at 3:34 pm, weighed in at a whopping 6 lbs, 11.8 ozs, is 19" long, and has a head full of dark hair. She nursed immediately and is teaching her mama a thing or two. She is beautiful and calm and so very strong. She has the best of my qualities all mixed up with the best qualities of her dad. The whole world looks different, and I can't imagine it without this baby.

For posterity, our Momentous Day is outlined as such:

4:30 am I wake up. It's a Very Exciting Day, and I can't get back to sleep.

4:32 am I wake up Wes. It's a Very Exciting Day, and if I can't sleep, well, neither can he.

6:58 am We arrive at the hospital to discover that they are "full". I asked if we should come back tomorrow (only half joking). The nurse looks up my name and says that they have a plan for me, and that I should stay.

They put us in a "pre-check" room: there are three curtained off beds in one room that share a tv and a bathroom and the door (which is always open) opens to the main hallway between the nurse's station and the nursery. The first section is a woman that is going back for a C-Section. Wes and I are in the middle section. The back section is a girl that, from the sounds of it, is about to DIE. I am determined that I will not sound like that!

Dr. K comes in and out a couple of times. He was on call Tuesday night and delivered 3 babies, preformed the C-Section on my neighbor in the pre-check room, has a hysterectomy scheduled for 10, and then I'm it.

8:30 am The nurse has taken my information and gotten most of our paperwork filled out, filled all of her little vials of my blood, put in my IVs, and hooked me up to the moniters (both are external - those big velcro strips that wrap around my belly) one for Baby's heartbeat and one for my contractions. The moniters spit out these cool graphs that Wes can look at and see how much I'm supposed to be hurting.

They start the Pitocin drip.

Now, this was my Big Fear about induction. Everyone, everywhere, says that Pitocin contractions are terrible. That it will make my labor so much harder, and that I will want the Epidural to handle the pain, and that the Epidural will slow my labor down. So, at this point, I'm expecting for my mild belly-tightening sensations to turn into these wicked contractions that will make me climb the walls or turn into a screaming, panting animal like the poor girl on the other side of the curtain. Nope, they started coming regularly (about every 5-6 minutes) but they still felt the same (somewhere between 6 and 8 on the cool little graphs, according to Wes.)

The OB Tech comes to help me with all of my cords, wires, and tubes while I go to the bathroom. Wes told me that there was a big wet spot in the bed, and we joke that maybe my water's leaking. Haha, Dr K is supposed to come break it in a little while.

10:10 am The nurses and OB techs come to take me (and the girl behind the curtain) to our delivery rooms. Apparently, they are moving new mamas out of delivery rooms and into Courtesy Rooms to make room for us. My MIL is there now (waiting in the waiting room) and packs up her Bible Study and comes with us and sit quietly and unobtrusively in the corner. We had been pretty ademant about it just being the two of us in the delivery room, but I'm starting to realize that Wes needs support in order to support me, and besides, Sandy promised that I could kick her out whenever I was ready and her feelings wouldn't be hurt. I love her.

10:20 am I felt something that felt like a really hard kick. At the same time, we heard a KA-Sploosh! on the heartbeat moniter. Then, I realized that I was peeing myself. Oh, wait. I think my water just broke. On it's own!

Contractions got even more regular and closer together (maybe 2 minute contractions, with a minute or so in between), but they still don't really hurt. Wes says that they're 8s and 9s.

The nurse comes in to check me, says I'm dialated to about 6.

11:00 am I'm next in line for the Epidural Man, and am considering just telling him not to worry about it, but then, the next contraction is just a little bit more uncomfortable and I remember that I'm no hero.

11:30 am The Epidural Man is here. He is the same anesthesiologist that I had when I had the D&C last year, and is wonderful. The most painful part was when he did the local at the beginning and it felt like he was putting a thumbtack in my back.

2:00 pm Wes says something about running over to Braum's to get some lunch, and that he'll sneak me a couple of fries (I'm STARVING!). I make a joke about that he better hurry so that he doesn't miss anything. Sandy looks at Wes and says that she'll go get his lunch for him.

2:05 pm The nurse comes in to check me. I'm complete. She tells the OB Tech to go get a baby cart. Oh, and look at all that hair!

Wait, you mean we're ready to have a BABY?!? Are you sure? and she has hair?

Yup. They turn on the Cooter Spot Lights and start setting up.

2:30-ish pm The nurses tell me how they want me to push and promise to help me hold up my legs, which I cannot control, thanks to the fabulous Epidural. Dr K is in and out, checking out my progress over the nurse's shoulder, watching the hurricane on the Weather Channel, looking out the window... sometime in here, he puts on his gear and sits down. This is when I actually realize that we're having a BABY!

3:00 pm I have got to throw up. I'm trying to hold it in because I don't want to miss anything or mess anything up... there aren't any extra people in here to clean it up and I sure don't want to smell it.... Apparently, trying to not vomit is not condusive to labor pushing. Someone brings me a bucket and Wes, my most Wonderful Husband, tries to hold my leg, tell me when to push, hold my hair AND the bucket, comfort me, and manages to do it all at the same time.

3:34 pm Apparently, vomiting IS condusive to labor pushing. Our baby was face up, with one hand over her head, and Dr K was able to use his suction thingy to rotate her and guide her out. It felt a little wierd, but then, I was busy puking and missed all the good stuff. Wes cut the cord and seemed to be at the baby cart with her at the same time as he was wiping my face while I finished vomiting and Dr K finished up his thing.

The nurses wiped her off, wrapped her in a blanket, brought her to me and asked what her name is.

Callie Marie Moore

It's our baby. She has hair. She is TINY! She is beautiful, so so beautiful. And ours. A little bit of me, a little bit of my Husband, all mixed up in this one brand new person. Here, safe and sound. Oh, praise God!

And then, Wes looks at me, HIS eyes well up, and I'm sobbing again.

Our baby. Safe and sound. Praise God.

We had some family bonding time and Callie nursed (!) and somehow, I forgot to ask anyone to take a picture of the three of us.

Bring on the family. Apparently, there were some waiting in the hall (I'm certain that I told them that they had to wait in the waiting room...) and some were a phone call away, but they all got to come in and meet the baby and take pictures. She stayed with us until the nursery staff came to get her and Wes at about 6:30. We didn't have a basinet and she was still naked, wrapped in that towel, but they let Wes carry her down the hall (just this once!) and learn to give her a bath. It was about then that I noticed the Braum's sack and drink sitting on the counter just inside the door. The straw was still wrapped and laying beside it, so I guess he never got lunch...

She stayed in my room with us for the entire stay. Callie was the only one that slept. I had only one melt down and there were a few dramatic moments, but I'll save them for another day. Today, what is important is that there is a beautiful, healthy, happy baby wrapped in a pink striped blanket, sleeping in a Moses basket at my feet.

I love her.

Praise God.

Soooooo...

Ok, so we (I) weren't "inclined to induce". Now, we (I) are. Actually, Wes has had it on the brain for a while and was confused as to why I didn't, but was keeping his mouth shut and waiting for me to see the light on my own.
Basically, the way our hospital works, if I go into labor during office hours or schedule either a C-section or an induction, I get my doctor. If I go into labor outside of office hours, I get whoever is on call. My doctor, who I LOVE, shares call with 4 other doctors, who I don't love - in varying degrees ranging from "don't know anything at all about him" to "actively don't like, don't trust, besides, he gives me the heepie-jeebies".
My Dr also pointed out that a night delivery had a disadvantage over a day delivery in that, should something go wrong, we were looking at needing to assemble a surgical team, which would mean maybe 20 minutes to get her out, vs 5 in the daytime.

So, there are our two Big Reasons Why We Decided to Induce. Tomorrow. Ta-Da!

We're having a baby tomorrow. Pinch me.